A/N: Mmmph. So I'm back from camp. It was so much fun, and I got so sunburnt, but I came home with two hermit crabs named Anthony and Carlos el Cangrejo (which is crab in spanish, in case you were wondering). My sister named the second one, and I have nicknamed them Race and Itey, respectively. Anyhow, this story is beginning to annoy me to some degree. Particularly because every time I try to write a chapter by the outline, it ends up being ridiculously long and not actually going where I wanted it to. I know I promised more action, but it would appear that is being held off until next chapter. Sorry, guys. I hope you all like it anyway, even though I'm really not that worried about it. Oh crap, I'm late for rehearsal... Enjoy!

Btw, Eavis, yes that was my favorite part too. It just seemed so fitting, and a great way to end the chapter. methegirl, that's kinda the point, making you feel bad for him anyways. And I'm glad you found it interesting. :)

Chapter 11: Moving Up

It took dem several weeks ta round everybody up, though a'course dey never caught Rhino or Demon. What wit' da riot, I figured Rhino at least wouldn't blame me for it. My only concern was what Cowboy planned ta do wit' me.

Blink recovered from his own injuries shortly afta I finally came to, an' dey pulled a stunt dat would never work again. While Blink went wit' Bruce ta da Lower East End, Spot led da charge into Murder Alley. Neither gang knew what hit 'em. Blink, of course, was ecstatic 'bout gettin' his first real trial run as Robin.

I think it was den dat Spot really realized just how far he'd come. We'd all seen da small changes, but he really saw da improvement when he's up against da Murder Alley Gang wit' nuttin' but da GCPD ta back him up. I'd guesss da feelin' was somethin' similar ta puttin' alla your money on a bet dat you's not too sure of an' windin' up on top. An' for once he weren't arrogant 'bout it.

Soon's dey was done roundin' up da gangs, though, I really did catch it. Dere was no end'a looks an' comments from Spot an' Blink. But da worst was da lecture Cowboy gave me. Startin' out, I resented him for it. But da more he talked, da more I realized how truly concerned he was. Still, no amount of concern could ever make up for his betrayal. In a way, I think I resented him more for it.

It didn't help dat Spot was really startin' ta pull away. I dunno if he was mad at me, or if it was just Oracle, but he was spendin' less time wit' us an' more time wit' her. Dat on top'a Blink's trainin' really kinda made me feel isolated. I's beginnin' ta wonder why dey kept me aroun'.

Da worst, though, was when Spot started talkin' 'bout leavin'…

The harsh light from Oracle's computer lit up her face as she intently scanned the various readouts. A dark shadow stood in the doorway, watching her, but she didn't acknowledge it for several silent moments. Finally, with an air of something bordering on impatience, the dark figure slunk forward to stand behind her chair. A faint grin crossed her face, but she never took her eyes off the screen. "You're out of the mansion," she intoned casually. "That must mean Tim's finally awake."

The figure sighed and shook its head, stepping just close enough to the artificial light to reveal a set of ice-blue eyes behind a black domino mask. "More or less," Robin replied wearily. "He's still sleepin' a lot, and he's in a lot of pain when he's awake, but at least he's conscious."

A small blip appeared on the map that took up the majority of one of the screens. Oracle tapped several keys to bring up the data readout, then dismissed the information in disappointment. "You're not still feeling guilty about it, are you?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly, letting his eyes drift over the screens for a moment. "Not so much. I'm worried about him, though. Bruce and Alfred are going to try to get him to quit smoking, 'cuz of his lungs and all. He ain't gonna like that one bit."

"Well, if it's for his own good…" She trailed off distractedly as another marker lit up on the map.

"He's never done anything simply because it was 'for his own good'," he scoffed bitterly. A third marker came up on the map, and he leaned in close to examine it as Oracle tapped away at her keyboard. "What you up to?"

"I'm trying to get a lock on Demon's location," she answered with a frustrated huff. "So far he's been pretty elusive. No one seems able to get any kind of solid lead."

"Maybe he's skipped town."

"It's possible." Again, she trailed off absently, searching the computer screens. "Here," she mused after a moment. "Best lead we've got is in Blüdhaven, actually."

Robin straightened, his lips pursing into a firm line. "Alright. Let's go then."

"Woah, there, cowboy." One hand still on the keyboard, she held up the other to stop him in his tracks. "Bruce doesn't usually like to go stomping around in someone else's territory."

"So whose territory is it then? We'll call them."

A data file on Blüdhaven appeared on the main screen. "So far, nobody's," she replied, scanning the info. "Their police department is heavily mired in some serious corruption issues, though. I highly doubt we'd make much legal headway, and there'd be no going in at this point without stirring up some trouble."

With a frustrated sigh, he slapped his hand down on the oversized desk. "We can't just let him get away like this, Babs," he pleaded. "We have to do something."

"I know, Dick," she soothed gently. "I know. But the only way to do it at this point is if someone went in and claimed the territory permanently."

A bitter tone laced his voice as he shoved away from the desk and started walking toward the door. "Then it's hopeless. Nobody'll go for that."

She nodded in agreement. "Everybody wants a piece of Gotham. Not even Huntress would make the move. Unless…" A brief silence hung in the air between them as something in her tone made him stop and turn back. With some hesitancy, she turned to face him for the first time. "You could do it," she suggested softly.

A decidedly shocked expression settled on Dick's features. "Me? No. No, I'm… I'm Bruce's partner. I can't just up and leave like that."

"He's already training Jason to take your place," she reasoned. "And you work well on your own. You proved that well enough when you went after Rhino's gang in Murder Alley."

"We still never caught Rhino, either."

"So? You did well all the same, and Demon is most definitely the more dangerous of the two. We need someone to bring him in before he causes any more trouble or hurts anyone else, and right now this is the only option. It's the best lead we've got."

Dick gave an exasperated sigh and dropped his gaze to the ground, as if searching for some other excuse there. "I can't leave them," he said quietly, shaking his head. It sounded weak to him, but it was the only reason he could think of, and oddly the one that stood out the most to him. "They're the only family I've got. I can't just leave them like that."

Barbara shook her head firmly, a defiant confidence shining in her eyes. "You wouldn't be abandoning them, Dick. You'd be helping them."

Race hobbled shakily into the kitchen. It had been several months since the incident, but he was finally up on his own two feet. Well, sort of. He still required the use of a crutch to get around since his entire left leg had been shattered, and most of the upper levels of the mansion were currently out of the question. But he was finally out of bed, and that was all that mattered.

Blink was seated comfortably on the counter with a carton of ice cream, contentedly shoveling the frozen concoction into his mouth with a spoon. As Race pushed his way in the door, he made an acknowledging sound in the back of his throat and went right back to work.

"Hey, hey! Leave some'a dat fer dose'a us dat needs it," Race slurred out, his accent coming through particularly thick. After being out cold for three weeks straight and then only partially conscious for another couple months, he was still recovering. In fact, he'd only just been able to form a coherent sentence about a week ago. The fact that most of his throat was scratched and swollen didn't help much.

"You don't need nuttin' but a good rest," Blink muttered, his mouth full. "And maybe a smack in the head for idiocy," he added once he'd swallowed.

Race glared at him, but ignored the last comment. "I been mos'ly asleep fer… How long was it?"

"Two, three months maybe?" Blink shrugged indifferently. "I dunno, I lost count."

"Whaddever." Race absently waved his free hand, brushing the petty details aside. "Point is, I stay in'at bed much longer'n I'ma go crazy."

"You're already crazy, Tim."

"M'not."

With a sigh, Blink set the carton aside and leaned forward, grabbing the front of the counter to balance himself. "Look, I dunno what was goin' through your head, and frankly I don't think I care at this point. The fact of the matter is, what you did was stupid. Extremely stupid. Like, I know we've all done our share of stupid things, but yours is the mother of all stupidity. I told you, no one takes a shortcut through Murder Alley. And of course, you couldn't just stop at 'taking a shortcut', no, you had to go and get yourself involved with a gang. And to top it all off, you found yourself stuck between the two nastiest thugs in Gotham City. Real smart, Race. Of course you're not crazy. Real sharp." He scowled and rubbed at his right eye in frustration.

"I di'n as' fer dis."

"No, you didn't. But you didn't avoid it very well, either. Don't you get it?"

Race heaved a small sigh and limped over to a chair at the table. His head was starting to spin a little. "I get it, Blink. I get it. It was stupid. C'n ya drop it, maybe? Ain't like it's da end'a da world or nuttin'."

Blink dropped his gaze to the floor and shook his head. "No, you don't get it. You go on and on about how Bruce lied to us, but you lied to us, too. Ya realize that? You told Spot you'd get it taken care of, so we didn't go to Bruce about it, and the next thing we know we find you face-down in some alley—"

"I di'n as' fer dis!" Race repeated, much louder this time. He winced at the sharp pain it brought to his head and went on in a softer tone. "Ya think I wanted t'ings ta go's far's dey did? It got outta han', a'right?"

"What got out of hand, Race? What exactly went on down there? What the hell did you do that almost got you killed? Because I know you, Race. You're not a criminal. And yet, somehow, you managed to get the most dangerous thug in Gotham City angry enough at you to want you dead. I can't help but wonder how."

There was silence between them for several moments as Race let his gaze wander to the other side of the room. Then finally, without looking at Blink, he muttered, "You's right ta begin wit', you an' Spot. It was a bad idea. What more ya want from me?"

Blink drew a deep breath. "I want you to promise me that it won't happen again."

"Can't," Race said simply.

"What do you mean, can't?"

"I mean I can't promise ya dat. I c'n try'n stay outta trouble, but Rhino's got me. I can't promise ya I won't go back ta work fer him if he… asks. He gots ways'a convincin' a fella ta do t'ings."

Silence once again descended on the pair as Blink reluctantly picked up the carton of ice cream and started digging absently with his spoon. Suddenly he didn't have much of an appetite. He let out a deep sigh and just sat there for a moment, listening to Race's shallow breathing and the ominous ticking of the wall clock before finally attempting some change of subject. "So I don't know if you'd heard yet," he began awkwardly, "but Bruce's got me takin' Dick's place starting next week."

"Where's Spot goin'?"

"Blüdhaven, apparently."

"What?"

Blink just shook his head. "You know him. Never been much of one to stay under anyone else's authority for long. Babs is startin' him out here in Gotham as some new cape, and once he's got the experience he needs, he's headin' out to Blüdhaven to follow some leads they got on Demon."

A scowl began to form on the Italian's face. "Sure, use Demon as an excuse ta up'n leave."

"Race, would ya quit thinkin' 'bout yourself for once? That's all ya done since we got here. He ain't walkin' out on you. He's doin' this for you, numbskull."

"Don't I wish," Race groaned, rubbing at his temples with one hand. "Ya know, speakin'a which, you's not so sympathetic's ya should be."

"Hey, you got yourself into this mess," Blink replied dismissively. "Far's I can see, you deserve every second of it."

Race groaned again and slumped in his chair. "S'not fair," he mumbled.

Blink chuckled as he hopped off the counter. "C'mon, let's get you back to bed."

"Nightwing?"

Spot nodded as he ran his hands over the black and blue uniform that Alfred had just finished with. "A shadow in the dark," he murmured, half to himself. "The criminals of this city won't know what hit 'em."

"It's a big step," Bruce commented.

"I know. That's why I took a different name, a different uniform. To symbolize that."

There was a pause as Bruce hung the Robin uniform in its place beside his. "You think Jason's ready?"

"I think so," Spot replied with another nod. "But even if he's not… Well, it's not like I was entirely ready either."

"Then I just have one more question for you."

"What's that?"

"Are you ready? To go out on your own, I mean."

A slow smile spread on the younger man's face as his blue eyes came up, confidence shining out clearly even in the dark of the cave. "I was born ready, Bruce."

A/N: For anyone who was interested, I posted a link to the poster for this story on my profile. Under the Legacy of Robin heading, where I hope you'll also notice that this series had grown immensely. Please review!