A/N: I hope the fanfiction is still pleasing you guys.

Thanks to the following for reviewing:

718darkstar , twilightluver95 , debbiegirl , ari dark princess , JammyDodger217 , raerobgal , Nikki-4 , Krimzontrigue , anstar54 , and nomanslandvicki .

If it weren't for you guys, I wouldn't really have the inspiration to update this story. So thanks for dropping a message. ^^

Previous Chapter:

"You killed off two of my men."

"They were useless."

"So was the girl."

"..." He spun around to face Mr. R. Somehow, he had traveled the length of the room and now stood before Eric. "And once I have had my revenge on dear old Dick, what then? Will I die too?"

"No."

"Will she?"

"...In a matter of speaking..."

Chapter 11: Here comes the moon...again

It was as if the sound around their ears was vacuumed out from around them – then released. Once Raven had mustered her powers to envelop them in the nick of time – preventing their certain death – they had teleported out of the club. And landed in their hotel room. For the length of a breath, they allowed themselves to pause, to take in what had happened. The bed sheets underneath them lay messily as they had left them. Robin's breathing was harsh. Raven's was slightly muted as she rested her chin against the foldings of the covers.

"We have to move," he recovered, and stoically stood up. His hands shrugged off his jacket and loosened the tie at the same time. Raven's eyes followed him out of the bedroom before jumping to her feet and making her way to the closet. Leaving the dress where it fell, she placed on practical clothing and stepped out, her and Robin's clothing packed and in her hands.

"Got the clothes." He nodded, concentrated on wrapping up cables for connections to the hotels and the traffic cameras' systems and making his way to the small duffel bag near the desk. Raven dropped the bags on the bed and wrapped a bandanna over her hair. Slipping on her glasses, she bit her lip. Robin didn't say a word. He smashed unorganized-ly the stuff into the bag and began to zip it up.

Suddenly, they heard someone attempt to turn the doorknob to their room.

Both froze. Discreetly, Robin slipped a bird-a-rang from his pocket. He side glanced at Raven, whose gaze remained on the door.

"Room service!" a cheerful voice called out. They shared a look. Yea right. Fishing something else from his pocket, Robin turned to Raven.

"Ready?" She glanced down to his hand, and throwing their belongings behind the recently overthrown couch – by him – she nodded. He pressed into the back of the R encrypted sphere ball and threw the projectile towards the windows/wall. Immediately, he jumped over the thrown furniture and joined her.

A blast rang out.

Not waiting for the smoke to clear out, Robin sped to the new balcony of their room and shot his grappling hook. Raven followed suit. The 'room service' began to pounce at the door. Sparing a look behind themselves, she grabbed both of their bags – lighter now that a few clothes were spared and left behind – and wordlessly, he grabbed onto her waist.

They jumped off of the edge.

Dawn was breaking over the horizon. Police cars raced to the ear-drum shattering sound. Their shadows were the only evidence they left behind as the landed on the nearest building top. Not risking themselves more exposure – now that Raven's telepathy was like a beacon to the Reaper – they disappeared.

"What now?" she whispered. Now, they lay in a vacant broken-down apartment complex, on the top floor. The room obviously hadn't been occupied in months. Robin paced back and forth. He hadn't sat down for an hour. The sun was well up into the sky; though it stayed hidden behind the dark curtains they found and placed over the windows. A single bed side was lit, which stood beside the bed. She sat on the matress, her hands going through her normally pigmented hair, as she watched her leader pace back and forth.

"I...I dunno." She peered up at him through her lashes. With an agitated sigh, he sat down on the bed. She looked away. She figured she should be pissed beyond reason – who said she wasn't anymore? – at him for kissing her. And more so for being melancholy about it afterward. But...she couldn't find it in herself to be pissed off at him at the moment. Right now, they – she – had to put their personal problems behind and figure out how to bring down the Reaper.

Easier said than done.

She glanced at him again.

"I don't mean to be a bitch and state out the obvious," she mumbled, eyes half lidded, "But we need to come up with a plan to stop the Reaper, save Gordon and the rest of the officers, and –"

"Don't! Don't finish that sentence," he warned, still not looking at her. She closed her lips. She had meant to say 'finish off Eric'.

"...then...what are your thoughts?" He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his eyes.

"...Our priority is obviously Gordon," he shook his head, mentally scolding himself for involving them, she assumed, "And the rest of the squadron."

"Yes."

"And...do you remember, anything, about Reapers in your studies?" she felt a flicker of annoyance at his reference of her reading time as studies but she didn't think to mention anything at the moment.

"Vaguely...and we cannot contact the Tower in fear of them tapping onto our frequency and finding us. Or worst, them."

"Yea." He stopped. "And you can't conjure your aura for the time being. At all. It leaves you open for him to enter your mind. We figured that out the hard way," he saw her wince at the memory of her display of the hotel's lobby. He stood. "That clear?" She scoffed under her breath.

"Yes."

"Good. I'm going out," he continued before she could fix him with a look, "To look for something we can eat. We'll be staying here a while and there's definitely no dining room downstairs. I'll stay out of sight as much as I can," he took off his dress shirt, disregarding if she saw him or not, and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "Stay put." He grabbed a piece of his superhero equipment, a cap, and his wallet. He stopped at the doo, facing it. "Raven?" The bedroom wall served as a barrier for both of their sakes as it stood between the view of the door and the contents of the bedroom.

"Yes?"

"...stay safe." He stepped out. Chin stuck out, she looked out towards the windows. She disregarded the pain she felt in her lips at the pressure she was biting them with.

"...You too." She closed her eyes and fought to maintain her emotions within herself. She couldn't alert the Reaper where they were. She wouldn't allow him to reach them. Especially if he still had a deal with Eric. And knowing Eric as much as she did, then she was sure that the Reaper – if he ever caught up to them – would do them harm.

And she would rather be dead than see Robin come to harm.

The memory of his lips on hers came back, haunting her. She angrily looked away, as if it would help the memory go away. But of course, it did no such thing.

She broke apart from him and leaned against the opposite wall. Which wasn't much since the stair way was so constricted. Her eyes were wild.

"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered venomously. Robin licked his lips and looked into her eyes, a sudden nonchalant expression on his face. Talk about bipolar.

"I kissed you."

"No shit, Sherlock," she wiped at her mouth.

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"I'm not a woman who can you discharge your urges with, Robin! Don't believe that for a minute, do you hear me?" she warned.

"Right," he answered.

And she still stood by that. She was not a woman of who could be made fun of. Beast Boy still hadn't learned that lesson.

"..I'm not saying I'm sorry. Or that I regret it," his words haunted her closed eyes. That bastard. If only he knew. If only he knew what Tara and she knew – now – for sure. She had feelings for him. Not your typical friend-like feelings. Or colleague-like feelings. Not even teammate feelings. No. Something deeper.

With a groan, she fell back onto the creaky bed.

She loved him.

That kiss had taken her for surprise. She never expected a move from him like this. This was her leader. The man she looked up to. The one she knew always had her back. And the one of the few things she held for sacred. Untainted by her darkness. But now, he had kissed her. And for what? In fear that it was their last moment alive. Would a normal person do a brash thing like that if they feared it was their last moment? She certainty wouldn't. And it seemed so out of character of him....

She groaned.

"What have you caused, Boy Wonder?" she mumbled to herself, "I tried to distanced myself from you in this mission because of my infatuation of you. And what do you do? You feed the fire by kissing me." She shook her head as she realized she held no audience but her inner selves.

Her response to his advance suddenly returned to her.

It's not like she should have responded with a sudden and out of the blue declaration of her love for him. No way. But was the way she had reacted the proper way to have handled things? She rubbed at her forehead in fret. What happened to her plan of detaching herself from the mission? To treat it as if it was any other? She sighed. She was the biggest procrastinator she knew at the moment.

The door jingled and Robin came back in.

"Raven?"

"In here." He stepped in, plastic bags in his hands. Through a glance, she inspected their contents.

"Not the healthiest looking dinner."

"All I could find," he mumbled, placing the bags on a small side table. He took off his glasses, jacket, and hat and sat on the bed, inching the side table closer. The microwaved "burrito" made her wince. But ...if she planned on taking on the Reaper, she needed all the strength she could muster.

"But...burritos?" She heard a whisper-like chuckle escape him, and his eyes search hers. She avoided his gaze and concentrated on opening the "burrito" while maintaining the contents inside the tortilla.

"I know you like Mexican food."

"...this isn't Mexican. This is processed-cheap-corner-store Mexican food." His lips turned into a smirk.

"Alright, alright," he picked up a plastic fork and began to pick at his own burrito. Her gaze escaped towards the contents still in the bag and found herself wincing inwardly. He had gotten her a bottle of water, Styrofoam cups and tea bags. Tea. He knew she only felt calm with her tea. So, he'd gotten her some. She swallowed what seemed beans. He sipped his can of soda. She breathed out.

"So..."

"So," he chewed, then swallowed. "We rest tonight. I don't think neither the Reaper or ...Eric will harm Gordon and his squadron. They aren't their objectives. We are." he paused.

"...You think they'll still be in the hotel?" By "they", she meant Eric and Mr. R.

"No. Eric and...his associate, will probably be in hiding for the rest of the day. Local police will probably be looking into the club. Someone was bound to have heard the gunshots."

"Have you heard about the people inside the club?" She wiped her mouth, rolled up the plastic wrapping and tossed it onto an empty plastic bag.

"In the corner store," he paused, then looked up. Raven flinched inwardly. His eyes looked so much older than he really was. They looked haunted, "The clerk had the news on. I saw a clip. No one was killed last night. They all made it out safely." They both shared a sigh of relief.

"The club?"

"I'm sure it'll be closed when the police investigate. If not," he shrugged, "Not really our biggest concern."

"...right," she nodded and made to get up.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

How the hell hadn't she noticed before?!

"....You're hurt!" Instantly, his eyes followed her gaze down to his chest. Where the bullet from one of Eric's goon's had "grazed" him. He frowned. Some blood had begun to bleed through his 'clean' shirt.

"...oh, yea."

"Oh yea!? Oh yea!?" she snapped. She angrily ran a hand through her hair. "What the hell is the matter with you?" He tsk-ed and got up. He began to shrug off the now stained shirt. "Robin-"

"I'm fine," he warned, glancing at her over his shoulder. He walked into what would have been a small living room except the only furniture in there was a small table and two mismatched chairs. The room was connected to the small kitchenette, which at the moment was broken. The light bulb above it illuminated both rooms. He tossed the shirt onto a chair and picked up his duffel bag.

"Yea, clearly," she cynically snapped after him. She faltered a step behind him, arms crossed under her chest. He sat down on the remaining chair and filtered through the contents of the bag. A piece of foil like paper fell to the ground. He ignored it and found a small white box, seeming to be the first aid kit. She huffed. "How deep?"

"Just a graze," he monotonously replied. He reached for a gauze. Her hand snapped to his. Her breath left her for a moment, the now bittersweet sensation slithering down her spine at the contact.

"Let me."

"I'm fine. I can do it myself."

"You don't posses healing abilities-"

"Which you can't use-"

"This isn't a major effort in my abilities-"

"He could still find you!-"

"He can't-"

"How do you know he won't?-"

"Because-"

"I'm not going to let you get hurt!" he yelled, standing up and towering over her. She stood her ground and glared right back up to him. "Stop! We're going to get through this fine! Without casualties, without the use of unnecessary exertion from both our parts. We're limited in resources. We're backed into a corner." He looked away, a fallacious smile on his face, his brows drawn down, "Hell, I don't even know if we'll make it out alive!" He looked back down into her gaze, chilling her for a second, "The damn odds are against us, Raven. And I ain't taking chances!" His voice seemed to echo around them. Her face was withdrawn. His cheeks were slightly red from the explosion. A pregnant pause seemed to stretch before them. She was the first one to break away, reaching robotic-ally for the gauze. Robin made a move to walk away.

However, she would have nothing of it.

Her pale hand reached out and grasped his naked bicep closest to her and gently brought him back down onto the chair. He complied. He seemed suddenly so tired. Robin leaned an elbow onto the small table and his hand held up his head.

"We've been through this before," she started, her voice semi-distant, "We've feared for each other's safety, remember?" He didn't seem to hear her, "And I'm not just talking about my father's appearance, but other missions where the possibility of either one of us being in peril, has come into sight."

"Your point?" he mumbled flatly.

"My point," she applied a now alcohol moistened gauze onto the pink-red wound on his chest, about a hand's length wide, "Is that, we know what we're getting into when we go into these missions. We know that...'hero's work' isn't games. We know," she paused, "...and we can't let it affect us on our performance on the ...'job'." He gave a whispered scoff and looked away.

"You gave me this same speech back in Jump."

"Why do you think I'm saying it again?" she rose a brow, neither making eye contact. His body gave no visible reaction to her touch or the alcohol penetrating the sensitive skin.

"I don't have to hear this," he stood, knocking her hands from him.

"Robin-"

"No," he called over his shoulder, either way stopping. "I know damn well how I'm suppose to act in a mission. I wrote the goddamn 'guidebook' for the novice TITAN, for god sakes." She blinked and let the gauze fall back on the table. She crossed her arms and faced his naked back. Faint scars and markings crossed the landscape of the toughly constructed muscled back. A back who was weighted down every day with the problems of not only his own, but everyone else's. "So...don't remind me of what I already know."

"Then stop worrying about me." His back became rigid. Her remark somehow got stuck in her throat.

"...I can't...." She should have left it at that. She really should have. But she spoke without thinking.

"Why?" He inhaled deeply.

"...That's a stupid question to ask..." Her head began to ache. So much emotion. So much emotion hovered around them. She blinked. Her eyes hurt.

"Stupid or not," she whispered as he turned to face her. The light from the room only illuminated so much. The shadow fell across his face, leaving his eyes and up shrouded in darkness, mocking the mask that disguised his identity normally, "I'm asking. Why?" Her hands turned into fists at her ribcage. Robin grimaced.

"Don't ask me that...not now..." something hurt in her chest.

"Not ...now?"

"No...we...we have to get this mission over with," he shook his head and headed back into the bedroom. "It's messing with the both of us. We're not ourselves. He's using our bond to intimidate and throw us off." She blinked.

"...so," she followed him, "From the beginning...he's been messing with the both of us?"

"Yes." Raven breathed out – in relief? But what Robin said, it didn't make sense. Her feelings hadn't been tampered with. Her gaze escaped back to him. Robin's, however.... Had he been entangled in something the Reaper had devised to make their mission unsuccessful? Her eyes widened. Is that why he had kissed her?!

"It…would explain your strange behavior back in the club. Why you," she'd never admit it but her face reddened, "Kissed me?" He reached for his small bag of toiletries.

"Could be." He walked away, into the hall and towards the small bathroom down the hallway before she could read his face. So...it had all been a lie? Robin didn't feel like...She shook her head.

"Get a grip," she whispered harshly to herself. She mimicked his movements and filtered through her own duffel bag for her own bag of toiletries. If she deduced correctly, he would tell her that it'd be wise to sleep for now. She glared up at the reflection of the sunlight that managed to filter through the holes of the drapes. Even if it was broad daylight. Raven sighed. How come it had gotten so goddamn complicated?

Robin wiped the soap from his eyes. Tepid water showered him in the floral curtained shower in the small bathroom of the whole final floor. He leaned his fore arms against the same wall as the shower head and leaned his forehead against the off-white tile.

"...Because, I can't bare the thought that I might loose you..." he whispered, too late.

Had heard this from someone else or even in a movie – in which he often did when it was Starfire's movie night of choice – he might have thought it tawdry. Cheap. But – his hands fisted – in reality, he was scared.

Not of Eric's return. But of the Reaper.

Behind his closed eyelids, Robin saw the fixation the Reaper suddenly seemed to have on Raven. It was a split second long. The V.I.P. room had been badly lit. The tension in the room had been too much. Adrenaline had pumped through his system, distractingly.

Yet, Robin had seen it.

The Reaper's eyes had changed. His demeanor had completely changed. It wasn't about Eric anymore. His fist began to tremble.

"Damn it, Rae," he cursed. That kiss. He shouldn't have kissed her like that. Not then. But what else could he have done? He felt that –

"You almost done in there?" Robin froze.

"Yea," he called out, turning off the water. He stepped out of the tub and slipped a long towel around his waist. He opened the door. The red-headed guy at the door looked up, looking comically like a chubby guy from the cartoons, with a bathrobe on, towel over the shoulder, flip flops, bar of soap in one hand and in the other, a yellow rubber ducky.

"Sorry, I didn't know anyone attended the top floor now. I heard it was vacant since months ago," the guy apologized, smiling shyly. "Guess I was wrong." Robin gave a half attempted smirk.

"It's alright." He turned to grab his belongings.

"The water cold up here, too?"

"Yea," he mumbled, all the while attempting to hide a bird-a-rang he kept in every pair of bottoms he owned, from being seen by the stranger.

"Darn, I was hoping for warm water," he joked. Robin nodded absentmindedly and made his way around the man. "Well, see you guys around."

Before the man knew it, Robin had him held up by the neck against the hall's nearest wall.

"What the hell is he planning?" Robin growled. The man's eyes widened as he attempted to pry the Titan's hands from his throat. Robin released him but immediately pinned him again, the man's feet now at the floor. "What does Eric want with me? Why is he alive?" The man's limbs released his toiletries. They fell roughly to the ground. Gagging noises escaped his reddening throat.

"Wha – choke – hell – choke cough – let ...go!"

"What is Eric's business here?!" He re-slammed the guy's body against the wall. The man's head jerked once then fell forward. Robin's eyes widened and his body went cold.

Suddenly, the man's head snapped back up, his eyes completely black.

"He doesn't tell us why he's planning to do what he does," a darker-non-friendly tone of voice escaped the slightly blue lips of the large man. Robin released him and took a few steps back. The demon-possessed man growled and rubbed a hand on his throat. "For a mere human, you are strong." The Titans' leader remained silent. The florescent lights above them flickered.

"I don't believe he keeps you ignorant. You know something."

"Oh, I know something. But it isn't the something you're looking for," the man's bathrobe disappeared and was replaced by a black sharp business suit with a red tie and white collared shirt.

"Talk."

"Eh...don't feel like it." Robin inched forward. The demon looked up and actually flinched. He attempted to recover by smiling a cruel smile but failed.

"What is it that you know?"

"That he emerged because of Eric," he dusted nonexistent dust off of his shoulder, "But now, he has his own business to attend to, too."

"His own business?"

"Yup."

"Like what?" He made eye contact with Robin. A chill sped down the Leader's spine.

"What the heck do you think Reapers do? They make deals. If not, they take away the dead," the demon scoffed. He murmured under his breath.

"Is that what he's doing? Making more deals?"

"I dunno for sure."

"You're not sure, or you won't say?" he interrogated darkly. The demon glared.

"He said that he found a jewel among swine. Finally, a worthy bounty to take back with him." Blood began to rush through Robin's ears. He inwardly shook his head. He had a bad feeling. To prove his point, goosebumps rose over his arms and the hair on the back of his neck rose.

"Why are you helping me?" The demon looked suddenly shocked.

"I'm not," he looked away, crossing his arm.

"Alternative motive, I see."

"...could be. Could be not."

"... who's the lucky person?" The demon looked back at him.

"What?"

"Or rather, the unlucky bastard the Reaper has set his eyes on?" That uneasy feeling hit Robin tenfold. The demon's eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"How's that 'wife' of yours?"

He semi-slipped into the room, never stopping to walk.

"Raven!" his yell echoed eerily in the room. Fisting the knot of the towel in one hand, in the other, he pushed himself against the wall to turn into the bedroom.

Empty.

He shook his head. He turned into the living room/kitchen. Nothing. He felt pain and ice-like throbbing pulsate through his spine. No. No! No!!

"Raven, answer me!"

He knew he was being stupid. He was standing in an angle in which he could clearly see across the whole complex without turning around. And still no sight of Raven.

"Damn it!"

"Told you," the demon re-appeared. In the blink of an eye, a bird-a-rang was embedded into the wood an inch from his head to the right. The demon's eyes glared at the weapon. "That could have killed this vessel, you know."

"Where is she?" Robin whispered murderously. The redheaded man sighed.

"Probably in his clutches."

"Why?"

"I told you, she was a-"

"A "jewel among swine"?!"

"Yea-"

"Shut the hell up!" Robin stormed forward. Raven had been taken. And if she had been taken, it meant that she'd put up a fight. And lost. His eyes now took in the overturned chairs and table. The bed sheets spread out onto the floor. His gaze returned to the demon, now a few feet away. "Where is he?"

"He who?" Robin inched forward again. "Eric?"

"Your boss." The demon-possessed man looked around the room, deliberately avoiding the Titan's stare.

"Could be anywhere," gradually, blood irises appeared in the depths of the black eyes, "He could even be here right now." Robin took a step back and braced himself.

"You!" The now Reaper-possessed man smiled a sharp toothed smile. The room's pressure seemed to suddenly rise and make everything seem hazy. Robin discreetly shook his head to clear it. He blinked hard. The vessel began to shake. Mr. R appeared besides the redheaded man, and said man fell limply to the floor.

Suddenly, the room seemed to be getting darker.

Robin glared.

"Where…is…she…?" A high-pitched ring echoed in his ears. The pressure was getting worse. He fought the urge to cover his ears. And yet, Mr. R maintained undisturbed. His cane appeared from under his extended hand. He composed his demeanor into that of a man with not a care in the world.

And that pissed Robin even more.

He couldn't help wincing as the pressure increased. He could actually feel blood begin to ooze out of his ear canal. But he wouldn't break off his stare from the Reaper's.

"Pity…" he answered with, instead, "But I guess a deal's a deal. He wants you all to himself."

In a blink of an eye, Mr. R disappeared. Sound returned and the pressure was removed. Instantly, Robin fell to one knee. He fought to clear his slightly blurred vision and calm the ringing of his ears. He spared a glance at the body not two feet from him. He closed his eyes. The man wasn't breathing.

The priest prepared for the afternoon mass. He straightened a book more orderly and spared a glance through the tall windows of the chapel. Odd. He glanced down at his watch. It was barely six in the afternoon and it was already dark. Frowning, he rubbed at his suddenly chilled body. Strange weather. The priest turned and faced the alter. He crossed himself and breathed in deeply.

Out of the corner of his eye, a shadow moved.

"Who's there?" he called out. He grabbed onto the edge of a pew. The shadow moved again, and this time towards him. Black steel-toed boots came into the remaining rays of light - now moonlight. A black cape incased broad shoulders. And iris-less eyes glared towards the priest. It took the religious man a second for him to recover. "Who…who are you?"

"You don't know me personally, father, but I need your help."

"My…help?" Who was this oddly dressed young man?

"I need you to help me defeat death. To defeat a Reaper."

A/N: um....I didn't really like this chapter. But meh. You guys are the final judges. Took a spin I didn't see coming. Hope this doesn't offend anyone in anyway. I'm just sayin'…