Hey there. Long time no, uh, see? I know it's been over four months---I'm terribly sorry, but there was nothing I could do about it. I won't bore you with the details, but I'd love to thank all the wonderful people who kept reviewing and sending messages and generally being lovely about the whole thing.

The bright side? Gotham at Daybreak finally has an ending. Oh, it's not in this chapter----but I finally have it. Took me awhile, huh? You have to remember, this thing wasn't originally supposed to go on for more than three chapters... so, technically, it's going to end up with a lenght triple that of the orignal projection...make that 9 chapters and probably an epílogue.

Anyway, chapter 7 is as follows. Oh, and I don't own the Teen Titans, Batman, or any concept, name, place, etc even vaguely related to them. So please save youself some trouble and keep 'em lawsuits away from poor little Fée.

"You're really going, then?" Robin's voice startled Cyborg right out of his musings. He looked up from the tool kit he'd been attempting to pack into place, and saw the Boy Wonder standing at his door as if waiting for permission to enter.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Taking his acknowledgement as consent, Robin entered the room and took a seat.

"Anything I can do to change your mind?"

"I don't think so, Rob." Abandoning his tools altogether, the half-robot sighed. "It's crazy, man, like you wouldn't believe. These last few weeks-----the secret was killing me. I'm even glad it's out------even if BB is furious at me. But he has a right to be, I guess…" he trailed off. "Hardest decision of my life, no question. But I love Bee--------God, how I love her-------and if retirement's what it takes to be with her, then I have no choice. I can't give her up. So I guess it wasn't that difficult a decision after all." A brief silence followed. Hesitantly, Robin broke it, carefully weighing his words.

"Look, Cy----and don't take this the wrong way-----don't you think it's a bit unfair, what she's asking you to give up?"

"I suppose it might look that way to you, man, but to me it's simple: I love her. And I love her like people used to love each other-----I want to marry her and buy her a little place in suburbs, to come home after work and share a nice, home-made dinner with her. Introduce her to Grandma and all that stuff. I want to have children with her, and a minivan whose trendiest gadget is the DVD in the backseat." At this, Robin gave him a disbelieving look. Cyborg smiled sheepishly. "Well, maybe something a little more sophisticated. Point is I don't think I was ever meant to do this…superhero thing for long. It's more frustrating than I can stand.

"Machines, you see, they break and you fix 'em and that's that. If you can't, then you just throw them out and start over. But this crime-fighting business…it really pushes my patience. You're never done. As soon as you lock up one bad guy, three others take his place. And by the time you put those three away, the original one is back in the streets. No, I think I'd rather save the world another way…maybe I could design more effective holding cells, keep 'em thugs locked up for a bit more…

"Anyhow, even if I felt differently, Bee is more than worth the price." Here he paused, as if giving time to Robin for the concept to sink in. Then he shrugged and returned to his tool kit. "'Sides, she's asking no more than I've asked of her. We're both quitting and that's that. Well, not quite that. I'd be more than happy to keep supplying you with awesome, kick-ass tech you guys can 'bring down baddies' with."

"But how are you gonna live? Do you honestly think all those criminals are just going to go 'oh, he retired, okay then, game over'? Do you really think there will be no one waiting in the sidewalk outside your kids' preschool? No shadow keeping tabs at Bee through the kitchen window from across the street?" Robin knew he sounded harsh, but he just had to make sure Cyborg knew exactly what he was getting himself into. "How are you gonna pull this off?"

"Anyway I can, man. Use holographic technology to cover up the more obvious particularities of my appearance. Move to the Midwest, the East coast, the South-----anyplace far from Jump City where no villain can track us down. Leave the country------I don't know. I'd hate to leave Jump----it's my home. I know no other. I was human here. I had a life, a real life, with girlfriends and football and school and girls on the side. I lost that, here, too. All of it. And I won it back, maybe…no, better than before… Jump's been good to me, all things considered. I've been happy here…" he sighed heavily. "But you gotta do what you gotta do, right?" Silence followed his question. Then,

"You love her that much?" The Boy Wonder's eyes were fixed on him, his gaze penetrating, as if studying his reaction.

"You have no idea." Maybe I do.

"And you're positively sure I can't persuade you to stay?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Robin held his gaze for a minute more, then smiled.

"Don't leave Jump."

"What?"

"Give me two weeks, and I'll ask…I'll settle up everything you need: identities, history, papers-----the works. Coupled with your holographic technology, there'll be no need to leave Jump. And you and Bee can have as normal a life as you want."

"You mean that, man?" Robin stood up and walked closer to the cybernetic hero. Standing face to face, he offered his hand.

"Two weeks." Cyborg looked at him, then smiled that huge grin of his and took the offered hand.

"Two weeks." They shook on it, and too much passed between them-----words, thoughts, feelings, promises…an entire friendship, crumbled and rebuilt too many times already. Letting the huge hand go, Robin turned to leave. Halfway to the door, he turned around and continued walking backwards.

"And Cy?"

"Yeah?"

"The team won't be the same without you."

"I know, man."

"Just checking." Robin called over his shoulder as he left the room. "And talk to Beast Boy!"

"Will do, Rob!" Cy called back as the door swished close behind Robin. Still smiling, the Boy Wonder made his way to the kitchen, hungry for the first time in days. As he went by the living room, he was pleased to spot a slumbering Beast Boy passed out on the couch. Does he ever use his bed? Shaking his head, the Titan leader stopped in front of the refrigerator. Dare I risk it? Deciding he was in a good enough mood to brave possible death by way of blue fungus, he eased the door open and began to cautiously rummage the icebox's contents: nothing but mustard, empty milk cartons----someone here drinks milk? -----and old takeout boxes. Oh, and a half-eaten apple that looked to be older than he was. And…wait a second! Could it be? Yes! Some ham seemed to have survived the fridge experience-----just enough for a sandwich. And----dare he hope? Was that…cheese? Yes! Cheese! Score!

Feeling ridiculously blessed, Robin took the ham and cheese out of the fridge, along with a tiny portion of mustard whose absence he was reasonably sure would go unnoticed by Star. There was bread in one of the cupboards, as well as a single, lonely tomato… but no root beer. There was, however, a brand new box of thyme-flavored tea bags. He put the kettle over the fire, and set about preparing the best sandwich he could, considering the meager ingredients available.

By the time the kettle whistled, Robin had completed an alphabetized grocery list with the heading 'PRIORITY' in bold red letters and stuck it to the fridge with a 'Wine Me, Dine Me, 69 Me' magnet that had somehow found its way into the Tower. Pouring the boiling water into his 'R'-cup, he placed one of the teabags in it. Two teaspoons of honey, and one of milk later, his tea was ready for consumption. He took a cautious, slow sip…and spit it right back out into the cup. Agh…this tastes like gym socks… He poured the entire contents of the cup on the sink. The kettle would have followed, but Robin thought better of it…He filled the black mug to the brim, stuck a tea bag on it, added a teaspoon of honey and a twist of lemon. He washed down the last of his sandwich with tap water, took the cup, and wandered back into the living quarters. He made his way up to the roof where, sure enough, he found Raven deep in meditation and levitating a hair's breadth from the Tower's edge.

Robin allowed himself to stare at her for a second of two, to memorize the way the last of the day's sun rays brought out indigo highlights in her dark hair and silhouetted her curvy frame, before plucking a particularly lovely flower from the small roof garden that was Beast Boy's pride and strolling toward Raven. Once beside her, he deposited the tea cup and flower on the ground. Taking one last, long look at her, he left the roof.

Days like this, when the Tower was silent and in peace, were rare. Robin enjoyed the quiet, his eyes trained on the view of the bay through the living room window. It occurred to him that, despite the silence, the Tower felt completely full. Energy cackled through the walls, vibrated in the atmosphere-----everything screaming, Beast Boy! Starfire! Raven! Cyborg! Hell, even Silkie! And…Robin! That was the biggest surprise of all.

He thought back on Cyborg's words about Jump City, about his home, and recalled Beast Boy's certainty that Gotham would always come before Jump in Robin's eyes. Even Starfire had expressed a desire to explore 'Friend Robin's home' upon her arrival to Wayne Manor… Which was it, though: Gotham or Jump? The Tower or the Manor? Was it…Was it possible for one to have two homes? And what about Hally's Circus, the Big Top, and the packed sawdust floor? Wasn't that his home, too, up there in the trapeze? All three cried out to him, tugged at his heartstrings with peculiar waves of homesickness.

His room was exactly the way he'd left it one, two, three, four? days ago. The bed was made, but the drawers were uncharacteristically open, as was the closet. He suspected the latter had been raided by Beast Boy and Starfire in his absence, as was their custom whenever he left the Tower for any significant amount of time. With a sigh, Robin proceeded to tidy his room into its usual somewhat-ordered state. That done, he stripped, and locked himself in the bathroom for a well-deserved hot shower.

With scalding water running down his back, his head heavy with vapor, Robin forced himself to think back on everything he had learned from Torque. Too much time had been lost already, and Bruce's killer was still on the loose. Not for long, he isn't. Dealing with team crisis was all very well and good----his job as leader, after all,----but his insides ached with frustrated vengeance, a feeling he hadn't experienced for many years and wasn't at all sure he was supposed to ever feel again. Vengeance was taboo----you can never do it for vengeance, never give in to the hunger for revenge or the bloodlust.

Nevertheless, somewhere out there was a man in possession of Bruce Wayne's heart…and justice demanded that what was stolen be returned to its rightful owner. That purpose he could serve, would have done so by the time the moon rose over Gotham tomorrow-----and what a lonely, strange moon it will be, with no Dark Knight silhouetted against it…

And after that…he would be free.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Robin felt guilty. Yet, he could not help it; he longed to be freed of the ugly burden of retribution, of the stark guilt that hung his heart, the self-imposed penance whose completion appeared impossible. How can I make it right with you, Bruce? How can I let go?

Abruptly, he turned off the hot water and opened the cold to full blast. The shock gave him goose bumps, left his toes and ears numb, but he endured it for a couple of minutes. When he stepped out of the shower, he felt refreshed and invigorated by the chilly water. He took the red 'R' towel from its rack and shook most of the water off his hair. Patting himself dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist and faced the mirror. His reflection startled him-----it did not match the picture of himself he held in his mind. When did I get so old?

Shrugging the eeriness off, Robin brushed his teeth and set about applying a healing balm on his most recent scars; some might never fully disappear, but at least they'd soften and join dozens others in their crisscrossing across his body. A pair of red boxers and a white undershirt replaced the towel, which he left on his shoulders as he exited the bathroom, still tousling his hair dry.

Raven was there, standing by the window, looking out into the rocky beach, the sunflower in her hands. Pleasantly surprised, Robin joined her by the window.

"Hey."

"A sunflower, Robin?" Her voice was uncharacteristically shaken.

"Excuse me?"

"There are violets in the garden. Roses. Orchids. Carnations, even." She turned to face him. "And you pick a sunflower."

"So?" What the hell was this about?

"Sunflower." She twirled the offending organism, willing him to examine it carefully. The way she said it…Sun-flower. It sounded almost like…Oh. Understanding dawned on him. "Not exactly…my cup of tea."

"Oh?"

"You sure you got the right girl, Robin?"

"I picked the sunflower," he told her, taking the flower from her hand and carefully putting in on the desk, then placing both hands on her shoulders. "Because it was the most beautiful flower in the garden… and it reminded me of you that way. Its being a sunflower------you don't need to read that much into it."

"Really?" her tone was a step down from sarcasm.

"Really." With a sigh, he gave his hair one last tousle and went to hang the towel. A minute or two passed in silence, then,

"Thank you." Robin did not answer, only stared at her. She was standing across from him, on the other side of the bed, looking decidedly abashed and not a little pleased with herself. And so beautiful… he didn't realize he'd opened his mouth until his own question reached his ears,

"You really don't give a damn about who I love?" Raven was a little shocked by the abruptness of the question, but recovered enough to answer honestly. As she did, he walked towards her until they were hardly three feet apart.

"Robin…look, whatever this is…I…" she was having the hardest time looking him in the eye-----damn beautiful green glass----"I hold no pretences. I don't know what this is. I…care for you a great deal. And I'm…." she hesitated to find the correct word to describe the bizarre lightness that had possessed her insides for the last couple of days, but despaired of it, settling instead for an insipid, "pleased with the developments in our relationship. Anything other than that----I'm in the dark."

"So you're…happy?"

"…Yes."

"I'm glad." He shivered for no apparent reason, "…because I….I also care a lot for you." Hesitantly, almost shyly, he drew her to him. She didn't resist. "Raven, I… I think… Someday, I could definitely…" Love you.

"Shh…" Me, too. "You can stop embarrassing yourself now." What he heard through her jab did little too soothe him, especially when he read her eyes and saw what definitely lay shimmering, bright and constant, amongst heliotrope swirls.

Someday soon, Raven. Please, wait for it. I don't love you yet-----but give it time; I will. "Fine." He said into her ear, and was pleased with the resulting shiver. "Although…." He added, purposely brushing his lips to the rim of her ear, "if you're only pleased with the developments in our relationship, then I fear I must be doing something wrong." He pressed himself softly against her body for emphasis, letting her feel every contour and sinew of it. His hands dropped to her hips, fingertips lazily tracing circles against the thin material of her leotard. She purred in satisfaction, and pressed harder.

"Believe me," she whispered back, "you're doing a hell of a lot of things right." Her arms rose to his neck, her mouth hovering just under his. A light brush. Another one, rougher this time. She was teasing him, goading him into breaking and kissing her full. He gratefully relented, swallowing her lips in the kiss he had been craving for hours. His hands left their nonsense drawing and instead circled her waist, their pressure lifting Raven up the few crucial centimeters that were needed for them to be face to face. She moaned as he broke the kiss, his mouth finding its way wetly to the juncture where neck became shoulder. She threw her head back, the better to give him access and to enjoy the thrill of Robin so close, his arms crushing her, of his scent wrapping her and tugging at her heartstrings.

Raven understood what Robin had been trying to say. I think...I already…I might already love you, Robin. I think I have for quite a while… But I can't say it, not just yet, so it's just as well you don't feel that way------though I believe you when you say you will. Still, I never lie: I was telling the truth when I said I didn't give a damn about who you loved. Your love is so much more than I would have hoped for… but I don't need it. I wouldn't ask for anything in return of the… feelings I bear for you. Those feeling are in themselves enough reward----I never thought I would experience them, ever. And yet, here I am. And all this…wholeness, this wonder inside me, the fire and the tenderness and the hope and the constant yearning and near suffocation-----you've brought them on. I've you to thank. And I really won't mind doing so for as long as you allow me to------I sense I'd be just as happy with loving you for the rest of my life, even if my feelings are never reciprocated.

You're free to love whomever you want, Robin. But if it's me-----then all the better for both of us.

Robin's mouth found hers again, and Raven lost her already rather inconsistent train of thought. Her feet were back on the floor, and she used them to pull Robin backwards and closer to the bed. Suddenly its edge was pressing against the back of her legs; Raven gave in to the pressure and both of them collapsed on the mattress, Robin's weight over her body making the air rush out of her lungs.

Barbara's head was heavy and pounding. The buzz from her laptop was quickly becoming deafening. She hadn't been able to sleep for days now; as soon as her eyes close, the vicious picture of her mentor's desecrated body would take over her mind, growing more and more disfigured with each passing second. Thus, with sleep being an unreachable experience, she'd thrown herself headfirst into research. Now that the primary wave of grief and revulsion was somewhat over-----suppressed, at least------Barbara could finally allow the cool deductive powers she'd honed over many Gotham nights and her own prodigious memory to produce answer concerning the Batman's demise.

She'd swiped the murder file from Dick's desk, read it once, twice, God knows how many times, and it still made no sense when compared to her and Alfred's recollection of the facts. And while she had faith in Dr. Jennings's assessment----she had had opportunities to verify his accuracy in the past----there was no question in her mind over what she's seen that night or on Alfred's words. And yet…how had Bruce survived the shredding of his internal organs? The removal of his heart? How had he walked to the Manor on entirely crushed legs? How had he endured to talk on these conditions?

She was about to give up entirely when something from the tox-screen caught her eye.

"What is that…? Cl14 and…" she checked the interpretation; they'd put it down as some kind of innovative drug that had yet to hit the streets-----not entirely unexpected in bored, billionaire playboys. "But then why does it ring a bell?" She looked closer at the formula. "Wait a minute…" Quickly, Barbara browsed through an older file------one headed 'Bane'. "I knew that looked familiar! Venom…" So that's how he survived…they pumped him full of Venom and God knows what else…still doesn't explain how he made do without his heart, though…or how he managed to walk…

Aiming to get lucky again, Barbara scanned down the file names in her computer. Man-Bat…Scarecrow…Lady Vic…Killer Croc…Charaxes… "Well, what have we here… Perhaps….No… Or maybe…" The name 'Charaxes' had given her an idea; could it be that the armored Bat-suit acted as some sort of… exoskeleton, providing Bruce's body with enough support to compensate for the uselessness of his bones? Sighing, Barbara shook her head. "You're reaching," she told herself, "and it's from lack of sleep." Stretching, she looked at her bed. "Well, the Venom's a good finding… maybe there's something else in there, and I'm just too tired to see it. Time to crash."

After forcing her desk into some semblance of order and sending a quick e-mail explaining her theories to Dick, Barbara went to bed. As she lay in the dark, the picture of Bruce's corpse looming closer and closer, one last question kept running through her head, Why go to all that trouble and then allow him to escape?

The stars seemed especially bright that night, or at least they did in the little patch of might sky that was visible through the infirmary's window. Starfire sighed, wondering if one of them was Tamaran-----was her godfather looking at the sky, feet planted in one of those bright diamonds, wondering which of the glittering night-eyes was Earth? Maybe… and maybe Blackfire was in another one, though her sister probably knew exactly which of the tiny jewels was Star's. And what about her mother and father and brother? Was Heaven one of those distant firelights?

The door sliding open startled her. She turned around and there was Beast Boy, looking disheveled and sleepy.

"Hey," he said, and his voice was sticky with sleep, "I didn't think you'd be awake. I just wanted to check on you."

"I appreciate your concern, Friend Beast Boy. My condition is excellent-----I no longer feel any pain."

"That's-----that's good." He hadn't moved from the doorway. "Ah, well----uh, here." He walked over to her and placed a yellow mug on the small bedside table. "I brought this----in case you were, you know, awake, and, uh, thirsty."

"Oh-----many thanks to you, Friend! This is most thoughtful of you." Cautiously, she reached for the mug and gave its contest one big gulp. "Mustard! Oh, my heart rejoices!"

"Uh, I'm----good. Well, okay, I'll just…." He made as if to leave, but hesitated. "Ah, okay, Star, dude, see…." Sighing in defeat, he elaborated, his eyes fixed on the floor, "I'm sorry… you were hurt because of me. I didn't mean for any of it… I feel terrible." Gathering his courage, his eyes left the floor. "Do you think you could, uh, maybe… forgive me?"

"I already have----I understand that you could not control your actions, and I do not blame you for my injuries. As you can see, I am quite recuperated and it is only because of our friends' insistence that I remain here in the Lab of Med."

"Oh, ah, good---- I mean, awesome! You had me, all of us, actually, so worried… But it's good that your fine now, Star. Thank you so much… for forgiving me, I mean."

"And thank you for your apology, though it was unnecessary. And for the mustard." She was smiling now and so was he, green eyes as bright as the stars she'd been pondering on not six minutes before. It warmed Starfire's heart. For some reason, she'd never noticed the color of Beast Boy's eyes. She supposed that among all that green they had always gotten lost… but how, she couldn't explain. They really were an extraordinary shade of green-----lush and fresh, like a sea of grass after the rainy season.

"Cool, dude, I mean, Star." He ran a hand through his hair, and yawned. "Well, I'll leave you to sleep, then. Just wanted to make sure you were, you know, okay."

"Good night, Friend Beast Boy. May your dreams be filled with pleasantries."

"Yeah, you too, Star." His smile was soft as he squeezed her hand and then left the room. Starfire's gaze returned to the stars. Maybe Friend Beast Boy could lend assistance to my search.

So beautiful… His head rested just beneath Raven's breasts, his moist breath warm against the skin over her ribcage. It was the first time she'd see him asleep, and he looked so…young, almost childlike. Well, not his body, obviously-----how could it, with all that muscle, those shoulders, such hands, so many, many scars… But his face-----like a boy's, even with that jaw and those cheekbones, there was a certain…innocence to his face, a wistful, almost playful, turn to the corners of his mouth…

Suddenly he snored, and violently rolled off her. Raven could hardly contain a yelp of surprise at the abruptness of the motion. She calmed down when he appeared to be still again, lying on his stomach at the edge of the bed, on arm dangling from it and the sheet only just under his waist. Raven sighed and rolled on her side, deciding she'd better go to sleep too. After a few minutes, drowsiness had begun weighing her down but she couldn't let go and sleep----warmth called to her from across the bed. Dammit, Robin; I used to like sleeping alone! Finally she gave in, muttered a curse, and rolled besides Robin, resting her head on the back of his shoulder and draping an arm across his back. Strangely comfortable, Raven dozed off.

Robin's dreams were a blur of color and a steady ticking that might've been a clock, or maybe a heart. When he woke up there was the insipid sunlight of early morning pouring in though the window and hitting him square in the face. He hadn't woken up to that in years, having almost completely replaced it with the eerie tension of darkness just before daybreak. He didn't even own an alarm clock. Or did he?

And Raven. She was asleep beside him, his arm thrown possessively across her midriff. She looked soft, familiar, tender. Dammit, Raven; I didn't use to like sleeping the night through! He watched her for a minute more before sighing and leaving the bed. She murmured something and rolled on her side, still asleep.

Seconds later, a soft melody confirmed the existence of a radio-alarm clock, tuned to Classic 106.9.

I'm not afraid to die

I'm not afraid to live

And when I'm flat on my back

I hope to feel like I did

Robin was about to turn it off, before it could bother the sleeping sorceress, when a dark tendril of energy sneaked past the bed and blew the thing up to pieces. He studied Raven carefully; she was still asleep. Robin shrugged it off, but the half-recognized tune stayed in his mind. Creed, maybe? U2?

He took a quick shower and dressed in jeans, his mask, boots, and a muscle T-shirt, grumbling good-naturedly the entire time because he'd envisioned himself out of Jump and already at work by that time. Raven was still asleep when he left the bathroom, and for a minute he debated whether or not to wake her and have her come along. Finally, he wrote a note and left the room.

Beast Boy and Starfire were already in the kitchen, uncharacteristically quiet as they discussed something between bites of pancakes. He bid them good morning.

"Good morning, Friend Robin!"

"'Morning, dude," greeted Beast Boy, his mouth full of tofu bacon.

"Should you be out of the Med Lab, Star?"

"I feel wonderful, Friend Robin!"

"Okay then. But take it easy, all right?"

"I will."

"Where're you going, dude?"

"…Gotham, first. Still have some business to take care of." A brief, tense silence overcame the kitchen. Then,

"Need any help?" Robin bit back his answer, pausing to think. Starfire and Beast Boy were studying him looking at him intently, expectant for his answer.

"I… might." The entire room seemed to sigh with relief. "Keep you comm.-link nearby." Stealing a bite from Star's plate, Robin walked out of the kitchen. "Oh, and Beast Boy, don't forget---they're expecting you over at STAR Labs before noon." For a moment, Beast Boy's face darkened. Then,

"Right. Later, dude!"

"Be cautious, Friend Robin!" That I will.

It was mostly habit that had Barbara up that morning, after only four hours of sleep; habit, and three cups of coffee. The fourth cup was currently steaming on her desk, and after a second's thought, she moved it farther away from her computer before settling down to continue her research. She'd barely logged in when the creak of her door being swung open startled her. She spun around in her chair, only to find Robin standing at her door in civilian clothing, a duffel bag on his shoulder.

"Dick!" she yelped, diving to retrieve her robe from the floor beside her bed; she hadn't bothered to change out of her sleepwear, which consisted solely of her underwear and a camisole. "Ever heard of knocking, ya moron?"

"Chill out, Babs. It's nothing I haven't seen before…" he sounded distracted, so Barbara let it slide.

"Jackass…" she grumbled, tightening her robe, "what are you doing here so early?"

"Early?" he asked disbelievingly. "It's close to noon! What's the matter? Had a rough night?"

"You could say that…" she answered, stifling a yawn. Cracking her wrists, she continued, "You didn't answer my question, Boy Wonder."

"I'm taking you out, Babs." He had unzipped the bag, and part of his Robin costume peeked out from it. "Throw on something snazzy----we're having a night out on the town."

"Cute, Dick." She told him as she dug out her costume from the bottom drawer and went into the bathroom. "You get my mail?"

"Haven't checked it. Why?"

"I found…several interesting things. You can check it out later, just… Dick, they used Venom on him." No need to ask who him was. Robin stopped halfway through tugging his shirt on.

"How do you know?" His throat had suddenly gone dry. She stepped out of the bathroom, walked to him.

"The chemicals showed up on the tox-screen." Her voice was soft, her green eyes downcast. "Zip me up?" He did.

"…It doesn't make any sense. He still ought to have been…" His shirt finally on, he plopped down on the bed.

"I know… but I don't know what else…" she sat down beside him, gloved hands toying with her cowl.

"We'll just have to ask, then." His resolute tone took her by surprise. It invigorated her, too.

"Who're we asking?" she followed him as he left the room and briskly made his way downstairs.

"Some first-hand witnesses." He was being deliberately vague, obnoxious even, and he knew it. Still, she didn't complain as he handed her an extra helmet and they both climbed on his R-Cycle.

"Really?" Her hands interlaced at his waist were so familiar, they brought him comfort. Working with Babs was good. "And where are we going to find them?"

"Oh, on this little spot of paradise called… Bludhaven." And then the bike roared to life, and they sped off in direction of Gotham's neighbor to the North.

Red Notes:

So...what say you? (...) Kind of a bridge-type chapter...but hopefully has enough meat to stand by itself. I'll make them notes quick:

Venom---that's the thing that originally made Bane the way he is...I think. Just in case anyone out there's like me and needs help with them Batman references... Some people have brought up the impossibility of Batman's injuries versus his actions, and they're quite on target. I just want to say, however, that I meant for them to make no sense. My reasoning is that if any of us could link them logically, then Robin should be able to solve the mystery in a breeze, seeing as we're getting exactly the same information that he has and he's supposed to be the World's Second Greatest Detective or something like that...and having Robin crack the case that easly just wont do...

The sunflower thing...Well, it might have been the ungodly hourin which I wrote that bit, but it seemed to me thatn the word 'sunflower' sounds a lot like 'starfire'...again, it was 3 am, so I hope you can forgive the ridiculous plot gimmick. That whole scene---the converstation between Robin and Raven---is the main focus of the chapter. As you might've noticed, it marks the first time in the story Robin and Raven have even remotely addressed the developments in their relationship. The talk's short, I know, and doesn't get much straightened out... but neither Robin nor Raven is ever portrayed through the show as being particularly open about their feelings... or talkative, at all. I figure it's easier for them to communicate through actions and physical nearness than through verbalizing their feelings. Physical nearness is a great source of comfort, which I think they both need desperately. ...of course, I might be way off but, hey, that's fanfiction for you...

I hope Cy hasn't been too OOC... I just can't really get a vibe from him... And BB's thing hasn't been conviniently forgotten---it's being dealt with 'off-camera' (ha!) and will be shown in ch.8...

On a side Note (ha!), the roof garden, though entirely nonexistent, is plausible, I think... After all, Beast Boy does have a 'green thumb'...hahaha I kill me.

Somebody made a fairly good guess concerning the direction of the storyline... I just wanted to acknowledge that and say it's pretty cool to know someone's putting that much thought into this story—thank you! The theory, however, is incorrect. Yes, the events leading up to the Nightwing series were the inspiration for some situations and characters (Torque, for instance)... but that's mainly for color and trivia's sake. The story is going in an entirely different---and hopefully exciting---direction. You'll see.

Lastly---chapter 8 will be up a week from Thursday at the earliest, a week from Saturday at the lattest---it's shaping up to be quite exciting, which is to say, the truth about Batman's death is FINALLY revealed... Also, there's gonna be a couple of one-shots showing up during the next couple of weeks... read them if you get the chance, and tell me what you think! The shorter one's titled (tentatively) 'Heroes', and it's set right after the 'Aftershock' episodes, but echoes through the rest of the series; it's a short, hopefully interesting, exploration of self-sacrifice and the expectations of life as a hero. The longer one is titled 'VICE' and it's my baby---some of you might remember me mentioning another one-shot called 'Sacrifice' and another titled 'Frost'...well, this is what they evolved into...

Anyway, the Notes are up... Thank you so much for reding---I hope this chapter lived up to any expectations you might have held...Please, review and let me know what you think! I love to hear from you...

---Red Room Flare