Disclaimer: After reading this, I'll probably never have a chance to own the Titans or Deathstroke or Luthor. Maybe in another life.

A/N: Well what do you know; I got time to write this chapter…well if you call not wanting to do your homework or other stuff of more pressing matters time, then yeah. Boom baby! And this is going to be a nice long, long one. Probably the longest chapter I've written ever. Ok, so a heads up, this is going to be a violent chapter due to a fighting scene, duh Dark Austral. It's not that bad to rate it up to a mature rating, but I'm just warning you guys right now.

Ch. 16: When an angel and a demon clash

Lex Luthor leaned back in his chair slightly, his fingers drumming on the arm rest. Mercy stood off to the side, her back straight, eyeing the door.

"Something the matter?"

The blond woman turned, her face stoic as ever but Luthor could tell the small signs that she was nervous.

"Are you sure about this, Mr. Luthor? Do you really trust him that much?"

Lex eyed the woman coldly. Usually, when someone dared to talk that abrupt about his decisions, the man ended up buried in many of the marshes lying outside the city. But Mercy had long ago proved her absolute loyalty to him and thus gaining her the small leniency of speaking such questions out loud.

"No I am not sure. One can never have absolute faith in a plan when humans are involved. Something always goes wrong. But, when you told me that the boy was going on with the little mission, my faith in this little trial increased." Luthor leaned forward; steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the desk. Glancing out of the window, he eyed Jump City. Lex Corp was near the outskirts of the city, far out for him if need be to make a quick escape and close enough to keep an eye out on his investments.

The door to the small office opened and passing through the small opening, the massive figure of Deathstroke filed into the room. The man's black, steel clad uniform could scare the average man, but Luthor merely just shifted back into his original position, the chair squeaking.

"You're a bit late."

"Didn't you get my email? Traffic was backed up for miles on the interstate."

Luthor frowned, "Don't toy with me, Deathstroke. You knew very well that all electronic communications are down."

Deathstroke stopped in front of Lex's desk and folded his arms across his chest, "And you know about the pile-up on the interstate."

The two super villains stared at each other, testing the waters before the plunge. Luthor was the first to dive. "You got it."

Deathstroke unfolded his arms and held in front of him a yellow envelope addressed to Lex Corp.

Luthor turned his palms upward, "I'm glad to know that picking a mailbox is not out of your talents."

Deathstroke narrowed his gray eye and tossed the envelope on the desk, "Watch your tongue, Luthor."

"And you watch your apprentice. I have no doubt this whole mess is of his creation."

Deathstroke didn't respond, merely sitting himself on the chair position next to him. Only Lex Luthor knew Reaper was his apprentice besides two other people, not counting the heroes. The man still had yet to figure though that Reaper was Robin, which was information Slade was not willing to part with. Sitting now, he too leaned a bit back to show Luthor that he meant no harm…at least not physically. Their deal was simple. Luthor would hire him to follow Kumi and Reaper and make sure the mission was accomplished. All he had to do was retrieve the envelope from the mailbox and deliver it into Lex's hands. In return, Deathstroke gained a bit more money in the bank account. Then again, that was the appearance of their deal. Below the surface, was a whole other agenda.

Lex took out a small silver knife and opened the envelope. Tilting the package, he smirked lightly as a blue pouch with a golden seal fell into his hands. "The boy did good."

The mercenary merely nodded. Lex took the knife and opened the pouch, "Seems that he followed the rules."

Out of the pouch fell a white card and a tiny blue disk. Holding up the disk to the light, Luthor allowed himself a full grin. "Finally, all the identities of the superhero community will be known. With this knowledge, we'll be able to destroy Superman and his little Justice League."

"Don't you think it's kinda of odd that they would be so…stupid and have such vital information stored?" Deathstroke knew the question was a bit out of character for him, but he liked to have a bit of small talk with Luthor almost as much as he did with Robin.

Luthor raised an eyebrow at the masked villain, "This disk is a backup disk of their main computer files. They created one just in case something happened to the main computer up in their Tower. Besides, they need to keep track of where other superheroes are in and out of costume."

"Hm, what's in the card?"

The bald man placed the disk gently on the desk and opened the card. His gleeful aura soon dissipated into dark, seething rage. "What is the meaning of this?" spat Lex as he flung the card at Deathstroke. Jumping onto his feet, the chair crashed into the wall, Lex slammed his hands on the desk and towered over it. "Care to enlighten me what your little apprentice is planning?"

Bowing his head down, Deathstroke picked up the card and opened it. Inside was a tiny message written in a fine print, making it hard to pinpoint a certain writing style. The pencil marks were light and already smudging. But the message was clear:

The chip won't do you any good. Revealing the secret identities of superheroes won't do the damage you wish to inflict on them. You want to know a way to destroy them; I can give it to you. But, I want in on this plan between you, Luthor, and Deathstroke. You know how to reach me. Contact me in 24 hours and we'll talk then.

Reaper

Behind his mask, Deathstroke allowed Slade to smirk. Closing the card, he glanced back up at Lex. "I did not tell him a thing, Luthor. The boy is smart and whatever he is offering…planning, I suggest you take it. It would be a good investment."

Luthor pondered over Deathstroke's words, sighing out his frustration as he sat back down. Narrowing his eyes a spot on his desk, the mastermind spoke in clenched teeth, "You've gotten cocky, Deathstroke. This boy has done that you."

A dark glee shimmered for a brief seconds in that charcoal eye, "I have my reasons."

"Reaper talks like he knows the superhero community…like he has been in the inside." Shifting his gaze upward, Lex eyed Deathstroke, "I have heard rumors of your involvement here in Jump City, Slade Wilson. The Titans and the HIVE academy tend to leak out a lot of information when one knows where to look."

Deathstroke leaned forward; locking his gaze with Luthor. One of the reasons why he hated dealing with Luthor coming to the surface: the man was too damn smart for his own good. "Just say it."

"The boy…Reaper…he wouldn't be by chance a former hero would he?"

"Whom did you have in mind?"

"Robin the Boy Wonder."

"He's with the Titans still."

"Yes but who survives getting shot?"

"He does."

Leaning forward, Lex whispered, "If he was the real Robin, then why are the Titans not following his lead? I've watched them, Wilson. They distance themselves from Robin, don't listen to his orders and Robin himself seems a bit depressed…out of character." Pausing, he watched for any reaction from Deathstroke but there is none and so he continues, "In the end, I find myself questioning why this change? And now…" Eying the card, he smirks, "I believe I found the solution."

"Be careful of your accusations."

Lex swallowed and leaned back into his chair, smirking and distancing himself from the killer. "Reaper is Robin, simple as that."

Deathstroke bit his tongue from lashing out at Lex, wanting to rid the man of that triumphant look.

"I must say you did a splendid job. The Robin here is almost as perfect as the original. And what you did with the original, I must say, Deathstroke, I have to applaud you."

Shifting his shoulders in a predatory grace, Deathstroke straightened his back, "With that thought in your mind, are you going to accept Reaper's offer?"

Lex's face fell back into a neutral stage. "Do you trust the boy's turn?"

"Do you trust that Mercy over there won't turn you in?"

A small laugh and Lex eyed Deathstroke again, his eyes shining in mirth, "I see, it is that kind of relationship. I would have thought absolute control suited your tastes."

The two-toned mask tilted to the side, "I learn from mine and other people's mistakes, Luthor."

Luthor nodded and stood up, followed by Deathstroke. Stretching out his hand, he offered it to the mercenary, "I am willing to see what your apprentice has to offer, Deathstroke. If he is to be a future ally, I must see how deep his loyalty runs."

Deathstroke shook the mastermind's hand, "As do we all. But none of this leaks out or you might just have plan out your spot in the marshes soon."

The other man bowed his head slightly, "Agreed. His and your secret is safe with me."

Letting go of his hand, Deathstroke began to walk back to the door, stopping at the arch when Luthor called out to him. "We must do this again, sometime. Make it a threesome, say same place, same time."

The one-eyed narrowed his eye at the businessman, "I suggest you enjoy the show." With that said, he walked out of the room and disappearing down the hall.

-Titans Tower-

Robin turned off the motorcycle, threw his helmet down on the ground and sprinted into the building. Entering the main chamber, he noticed the room was dark, the only light coming from the screen, showing Starfire breaking Mad Mob's staff while Beastboy knocked Killer Moth unconscious. Raven was in the next screen, encasing three criminals in a black orb. And lastly, a screen with numbers filed by showing that Cyborg was working hard to disengage the virus.

"Cyborg?" Robin walked down the steps, eying the room for the cybernetic hero. "Cyborg?"

Turning around the corner, he spotted his fellow Titan lying face down on the carpet. Kneeling quickly, he noticed that Cyborg's eyes were closed. Someone had come in and knocked the boy unconscious. Running a hand down the Titans' back, Robin eyed the open circuit board. After knocking him out, the attacker had shut down the machine part of Cyborg and rewired him so that the battery was slowly draining.

"Gizmo?" But the thought was squashed. It wasn't Gizmo's style to render his opponent unconscious and then drain him of his power. Flexing his gloved fingers, Robin quickly wired Cyborg the correct way and closed the circuit board. His breath wanted to come out in harsh pants, but the robot quickly pushed away his emotions. Cyborg had saved his life once and now it was time to return the favor.

Hosting the older boy up onto his back, Robin for the first time was grateful not to have a human body. With a steel enforced skeleton, he was able to carry the heavier Titan back to his room with no difficulty. Gently laying the dark-skinned boy on his bed, Robin plugged him into his power source and smiled when a green light blinked on. Tiptoeing out of the room, Robin closed the door and locked it. His face fell into a stern expression.

Walking quietly through the halls, he seeked out the attacker. Nothing seemed to be disturbed. Every room he checked: Starfire, Beastboy and Raven's but nothing was out of place. Finally, he reached his own room. Pulling out his bowstaff and extending it, he hugged the wall and pressed the button to open the door. The door swished opened but he did not bother to go in. A few seconds later the door began to close and he sprinted between the narrow opening and into darkness.

Halting for a minute, Robin waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Scanning his room, he noticed that the closet was wide open, uniforms strewn about. Walking silently to the closet, he spun around when the bathroom door slide open. Bright neon light hit his face, stinging his eyes. Blinded, he staggered backwards a bit; hit the edge of the trunk lying at the base of his bed.

Raising his arm, he made out a blurry figure leaning on the doorframe, holding up one of his uniforms. He watched as the figure tilted his head, revealing a calculating gaze of an eye.

Gritting his teeth, Robin lowered his arm and fell into a defensive position and hissed, "Slade."

The figure chuckled and stepped back into the room, allowing the bathroom door to slide close, the room falling back into darkness. Spots danced before Robin's eyes as he blinked quickly to readjust back to the dark. The figure stopped in few feet away from him and that was when he noticed his mistake. The man was not as tall or muscular as Slade. Instead, he seemed to be the exact opposite. Small, slim built and then the uniform constituted of loose clothing, not the tight fitting metal outfitted uniform.

Robin was about to speak when the man whispered, "You wish." With that, he raised his hand and snapped once. The room's lights slowly began turn on, the dull light creeping up like dawn, banishing away the darkness. Robin took a step and fully turned at the man, whose face was masked not by just a ski mask but a hood as well. The only thing he could make was the black eyes that shone just underneath the edge of the hood.

"Who are you? Were you the one who attacked Cyborg? Why?"

Tightening his grip, Robin watched the man's eyes twinkle with amusement. Through the muffled cloth, he could make out the subtle hints of laughter, "God, you're good. You're down to a T, almost perfect. Kinda scary actually."

With that, the man tossed the uniform on the bed and began to circle around the superhero with a predatory stride, his hands folded behind his back. Robin felt the color drain from his face. "He might not be Slade, but he screams him nonetheless," whispered Robin's mind, the fear starting to snake down into his hands. To restrain his hands from shaking, he gripped the bowstaff harder.

The man seemed to sense his rising fear and stopped, unfolding his arms and stared at his hands. The black eyes seemed to look different but the angle they were cast at made it hard to see it. "Guess being with him all this time, I picked up some of his habits." The voice sounded resigned and the shrugging of the shoulder only made it seem that acting like Slade was just a side note.

Confusion made Robin narrow his eyes. The man looked back up at the other, his eyes a crystal blue. "What don't recognize the voice?" He waited for a response then closed his eyes, sighing. "It's amazing that I lived this long being this stupid in the beginning."

With that, he reached up, pulled the hood down and tugged off the mask. Raven locks fell in a mess, bangs hovering over the unmasked eyes. The metal bowstaff fell to the ground, the clanging echoing in the room. Robin took another step back, his foot stepping on one of the many discarded uniforms. The slick material gave way and he fell on the floor. It was the face he would stare at everyday, the face that haunted his mind, the thorn in his heart. Yet, despite the exact duplication, Robin noticed the changes. He still retained his innocent, childish looks that would have remained if the original Boy Wonder had not disappeared. The man before him though, had matured and aged greatly. He might have the same facial structure and everything else; heck people might not notice the differences. But he did.

The face was a bit more taut, revealing hollow cheek, drawn eyes, and thin lips while the skin was weathered with tiny wrinkles tugging already at the corner of the eyes. He also noticed the small stubbles of a beard trying to grow, clicking in his mind that the original Robin had not shaven in awhile. His gaze turning downwards, he could make out that the man had grown a little taller, and definitely lost weight. The dark clothes were giving an aura of combat material, especially something you would wear out in some form of military excursion. From what he could make out, a belt was present with familiar pouches decorating it underneath the trench coat, which was spotted with mud and specks of dried blood.

Swallowing, the robot returned his gaze back up at the face, his face jerking with the cold stare that greeted him. The darker blue eyes seemed lost as if remembering something. Licking his lips, Robin stood up, "You're eyes…what happened to them, they keep changing?"

Blinking slowly, the other Robin answered in an emotionless voice, "I saw the light…literally."

"Robin?"

Life sprung back into the eyes and the other man snarled, "Robin is dead, boy. The name's Reaper, now."

"Reaper? No, you're not him, ok. You're Robin, the real Robin. The one we've—the Titans have been searching for."

"Searching for huh? Well, they didn't search hard enough. Besides," Reaper's hard gaze fell upon the yellow R, "You're Robin now. And as such…" A cruel smirk graced his features, "You're going to help me in getting the point across that Robin is dead…that there is no such thing as heroes or villains, just people striving to live and met their selfish goals."

Robin reached out to grasp Reaper, "That's not true! Don't believe all the nonsense that Slade has been telling you…torturing you into thinking!"

Reaper knocked away Robin's hand, "Torturing, ha! Master Deathstroke never tortured me. He set me free, made me see the truth. I was torturing myself being something I am not…a hero."

The brightly colored hero felt his mouth drop open, his worst fear coming true. It was an unvoiced fear that the Titans and Batman shared: what if when they found Robin, he didn't want to go back? What if he wanted to be a villain?

"…No…you're….wrong!" With that, Robin enforced his view the only way he knew of. Lunging forward, he raised his fist and delivered a punch at Reaper's head, "I'll make you remember who you are! Even if it takes beating you up to break free of Slade's hold on you!"

In the past, the original Robin might have leaned back and taken the offense but not Reaper. He was sick of retreating and only knew of achieving his goal. Leaning forward, he dodged the punch and delivered an uppercut. Robin's head snapped back. Reaper continued his onslaught as he drove his other fist into the boy's side, feeling the strain of ribs underneath but not yielding.

Stepping back, he watched as Robin slumped onto the ground, gasping, his arm draping over his bruised ribs, a tiny trickle of blood dripping down his chin. Reaper scoffed, "You're a robot, not human."

The bluntness of the tone struck home with Robin. His masked eyes shot up and looked at Reaper as if he was an alien or had grown another head. Reaper merely continued as if stating the facts, "Normally, Slade's robots are just a pile of trash after those two blows, but he designed you differently, built you superior to them." A pleased look fell on his face, "Hm, I feel a bit…honored."

"Honored?" spat Robin as he wiped away the blood. Shock at this changed Robin was giving away to anger, "Honored? What the heck did he do to you? Drug you or something?" The yelled question punctured the tense air.

Reaper shook his head and sighed. "Look upon me and tell me what you see. Is it insanity, drugs, fear of what Slade might do to others or me? Ah, you can't find the symptoms and I'll tell you why because it is really simple." Leaning forward as if addressing a child, Reaper lowered his voice to a husky whisper, "I'm sane for the first time in my life."

The pain on Robin's side and chin died in the crashing wave of anger. Gritting his teeth, Robin roared a battle cry. Reaper leapt back and flung a twirling blade at Robin. The Boy Wonder rolled to the side, watched as the three-pointed dagger embedded itself in the carpet. Grabbing his fallen bowstaff, he jumped at Reaper slamming his staff at the boy's head.

Reaper pulled out his own metal staff and blocked the blow. His feet strained to keep in place, but he knew that fighting here in this small room would only lead to harm. Sliding the staff across Robin's own, Reaper rammed the other end at the switch. The door slide open and he ran into the hallway. Robin chased after him, twirling blows at Reaper. Reaper kept blocking each one, walking backwards. He knew the layout like the back of his hand and thus did not need to worry about glancing behind him to know which turns to take.

Robin jammed his pole at Reaper's stomach. Reaper leapt backwards, doing a flip before landing in a crouch. Twirling around, he kicked open the door, leading to the staircase. Running up the stairs, he heard Robin giving pursuit. Slamming the door open, he jogged into the center of the roof, turning around to wait for Robin. The robot was not far behind and skidded onto the roof, masked eyes narrowed in hard-core determination.

"What running away? Is it because you're afraid that I might win?" mocked Robin.

Reaper just twirled his pole, his other hand resting on his side. "Who said I was running?" His once empty palm pulled out a disk and flung it at Robin's feet. Ice-shards erupted into the sky. Robin leapt backwards, surprised at the lethal weapon. His own ice-disks just made a flat surface slick. But Reaper's version was now designed to not only render an opponent useless but wound or kill him as well. Hearing a swish, Robin looked up to see Reaper flying over the shards, his pole slamming down towards him. Robin raised his one bar and blocked the blow. The metal staff groaned under the pressure and soon it snapped in half. With the leverage, Reaper flipped over Robin and sent a kick into his back. Flying forward, Robin ducked his head and smashed through the ice. Rolling on the ground, he shook off the ice. He just had time to briefly stop and look up before he had to roll to side, avoiding another powerful kick.

Flipping onto his feet, Robin twirled the two broken pieces of the staff before lunging at Reaper. Aiming one part of staff at Reaper's head, he watched as the villain raised his staff to block. With the pole cast down, Robin used the other staff to slam the other half of the pole into Reaper's upper arm. Biting his lower lip, Reaper staggered to the left, his arm screaming in pain. Robin used the distraction to spin around and smash one of the poles into Reaper's face before finishing off with a steel-boot kick in the stomach. Reaper skidded across the roof, before slamming into the small concrete wall at the edge.

Leaning forward, the ex-superhero lifted himself off the ground. He searched the area for his bowstaff only to watch Robin pick it up and toss it over the edge. He hated to admit it, but it was starting to get a bit annoying that the robot had hung on for so long.

Robin eyed Reaper's rising form and couldn't help but smirk. Even though, he was panting, he noticed that Reaper had too begun to breath slightly heavier. "I told you I would knock some sense into you." Laying down one of his poles, he pulled out his communicator and was about to flip it open when a dagger embedded itself in it. Electricity flew out and sparked across his hand. Screaming, Robin dropped the communicator and looked down at his burnt, twitching hand. He heard the pounding footsteps and looked just in time to cross his arms in front of his face and block the punch.

Reaper heard Robin skid backwards before throwing himself into a spin kick. Knocking away the crossed arms and the broken pole. Finishing his turn, he raised his fist and prepared for another punch. Robin lunged forward locking his arm with Reaper's left one and spun around the boy before locking the other arm behind him. The dark clad fighter snarled as he tried to free his pinned arms from behind his back.

"Stop it, you're only making this worse for you."

Easing his struggle, Reaper narrowed his eyes on the ground. Robin felt a sense of relief that the original Robin had stopped but his instinct was on overdrive. He wouldn't stop unless he was planning something. "Robin…Don't do something stupid."

Reaper took a deep breath and with one swift jerk popped out his left arm out of its' socket. Feeling the arm go limp, the villain yanked the arm out of the sleeve. His right hand gripped onto the loose coat as he lumped into the air and did delivered another kick at Robin's side. Letting go, his right arm slide out of the coat as Robin stumbled backwards from the blow.

Robin quickly threw the coat on the side, expecting a surprise attack from the other man. But to his surprise, he watched Reaper clad in a slim fitting black uniform walk over to the cement wall and ram his left arm back into its' socket.

Wide masked eyes did little to convey the amount of shock that was driving through his system. "You're…you're insane!"

Reaper rolled his shoulder, easing the pain away. He had set enough dislocated limbs during the war to know the inner workings of how to perform such a move as he did just now. "You talk too much."

With that exchange the two heroes ran at each other, the short pause only adding more fuel to the fire. The two aerialists flew, danced and flipped around each other's bodies. Punches and kicks were blocked. Blood and spit flew from scraps, cuts and mouths. At one point during the fight, though neither can remember, both had threw belts to the side, the weapons and gadgets gone or useless in hand-to-hand combat. The two heroes knew each other's fighting style, proving how identical they really were. Robin had grabbed a hard lock on Reaper's wrist, struggling to maintain it as Reaper was trying to break his wrist on the opposite hand. It was then that he noticed amongst all the cuts and scraps on Reaper's body there was a bleeding patch on his left side that he knew he didn't create. Seeing his opportunity, he kneed Reaper in the gut. As the man let go and double over, Robin bent to the side and drove his elbow into Reaper's wound.

For the first time in the fight, Reaper couldn't bite back his groan and a small scream of pain burst forth from his lips. Tears filled his eyes but he blinked them away. His breath coming in the short gasps of rage, he drove his fist into Robin's lower back where the kidneys were. Robin's back arched into a C and a pain filled scream filled the air.

Pure white pain blossomed within Robin, but by a miracle he kept his mind free from the pain. Long enough to reach down and grab a broken shard of a bird-a-rang and without aiming or looking thrust it behind him. He felt Reaper stagger away from him, giving the two fighters space to breath. Robin turned around and rested his shaking hands on his knees. This fight was going on forever and he was getting tired. He couldn't remember the last time he had fought at such intensity.

Reaper pulled up a part of his shirt and ripped a strip of cloth off. The robot had been lucky and had sliced his upper left arm pretty good. Tying the cloth over the wound, he tightened the temporary bandage while taking Robin's beaten form. The colorful uniform was tattered, blood oozing from countless sources. Sweat plastered his hair to his face and the white mask was tilted and had a tiny cut that you could almost see the clear blue eyes from behind it. Reaper found himself drawing his lips into a line, for a robot, the thing acted and bleed like a human.

Robin felt the continuous stare and glanced up to look at Reaper. The man was in a slightly better condition than him. The black uniform was ripped but the cloth was not like spandex and was more durable to handle close combat. The raven locks were dripping with water but otherwise, nothing seemed to hint that the boy was ready to surrender or even if he was tired. He watched as Reaper tucked his hand underneath the black shirt where he had spotted the patch of blood. Fingering the wound, he could only assume that the ex-superhero was assessing the wound and then tightening the makeshift bandage.

"Give up, Robin. We know each other too well, the moves, everything. This is a waste of time!"

Cold blue eyes raised themselves to meet the pleading white mask. "No." Running at Robin with new founded strength, Reaper made it clear that this fight was only going to end when one of them ended up dead.

Sliding into a position, Robin waited for Reaper to leap into the sky and deliver a kick. He never expected the change of fighting style. Not leaping, Reaper charged ahead, making Robin lean back in surprise. Noticing countless openings, his fists flew into each area right on the bulleyes. Robin closed his eyes as fists rammed into his sides, stomach, kidneys and jaw. One punch to the left side sent him spinning away and falling flat on the ground.

Coughing up blood, the battered hero couldn't help but think that the style was just like Slade's type of fighting. Blinking to help retain his conscience, Robin noticed that he had landed near the bird-a-rang that could transform into a sword. Reaching out with a shaking hand, he watched his only last resort inched closer and closer to his grasp.

A shot rang out in the silence…followed by a blood-curled scream.

Robin was huddling on the ground, his burnt hand cradling a bleeding hand that was shot clean through by a bullet. Shaking, he glanced up and saw Reaper holding a gun, cocking it to reload the barrel.

"…Where…"

"Never carry your weapons all in the same place," stated Reaper as he raised his arm and aimed at Robin.

Robin's eyes widened, "You…you…wouldn't….you can't kill in cold blood!"

"I've done it multiple times before, you are no different. Don't worry though, on the other side is only darkness."

Robin eyed the barrel of the gun and a serene peace numbed his mind. For some odd reason, the last observation he noticed was that it wasn't raining. Everywhere he read about big battles between good and evil, the sky always cried to represent the angels that were weeping for the lose of a hero or innocence. He didn't feel the wetness of water, but instead felt the warmth of the sun's rays peaking up over the buildings. It was the beginning of a bright, new day. Dawn had come to bring life to a sleeping city.

"I guess I'm not worth crying over since I couldn't bring him back," whispered Robin, "I'm sorry everyone."

And then there was nothing.

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A/N: OMG!!!!!! 12 pages long in word! Holy Moses, I had way too much fun writing this chapter out. I hope the other fight scenes that I have plan live up to this one. Then again this is the one that I've been waiting to write for and now you know why.