Blah, I have no reason for such a long gap between updates… I'm just lazy…

And I am still being lazy right here, so…

Thankyou to: Seductive Angel, Poison's Ivy, Super Chaos, LoopyLouise123, Kami-Elf, Me, Athena's Wings, YamiTai, Raven Victoria Grayson, Rocky-White Wolf of Curses, Simmie, Narroch, Quinn and His Quill and Guardian of Azarath.

Yes, I'm lazy. Sorry.

But hey, would you look at that. No long boring ANs for you to wade through today!

Appreciate it while it lasts…

Skies of Dust and Blood

What the hell happened here?...

Robin stood on the stone steps of Jump City Museum, gazing out wordlessly over the wreck of a city that was sprawled before him. The museum was in Central Jump, and everything around it was… demolished, boarded up, burnt out and broken. He looked back the museum; it no longer had its splendid oak doors, its bronze plaque was faded and scratched, the Greek-style pillars were cracked and broken, the white Bath stone the building was constructed from was dirty and crumbling…

He walked down the wide marble stairway, clutching the Clock of Eternity to his chest. What had happened? He had set the clock to take him back ten hours, so that he could prevent himself and his friends from dying; instead he had ended up here. Some kind of… devastated future world, it seemed.

But how far into the future? Starfire had described the future she had been thrown into as being like this – cold, desolate, demolished – but had he truly been thrown twenty years ahead, as she had been? Or was it more than that, or less?...

He wandered down Main Street, his footsteps echoing on the cracked sidewalk. Everything seemed to be broken and destroyed; he saw the mall, smashed and boarded up, he recognised the remains of Bruce's favourite rich-boy Jump City hangout, Jazz Central USA – the same place Raven had told him they had tracked Terra to, to enlist her help in freeing him of his demonic possession. The panel-picture of Elvis Presley was actually still intact, but the glass covering was shattered, the broken glass long since gone from the sidewalk, and Elvis was barely recognisable beneath the covering of moss and fungi that had spread across the front of the whole club. He recognised the comic book shop – it looked as though it had been hit by a bomb, there was that little left of it.

He needed to get higher, to see what had truly become of his city.

He pulled out his grappling hook and sent it soaring skyward, hoisting himself and the Clock of Eternity up onto the flat roof of the broken mall. He put the bird-shaped holster away and left the clock down, going to the edge of the mall's roof.

The sight that met his eyes was a long way away from the glittering splendour he was used to setting eyes upon – the complex matrix of a city that had always sprawled below him as the Titans responded to the distress call it was giving out.

This was a new land.

Everything was just… gone. Looking out across the river his heart jerked as he saw Titans Island… and only the ruin of Titans Tower. It had been torn down, so that only the bottom of the framework was left standing, and around it what looked like broken rubble and whatever else was left of the legacy of the Teen Titans.

And beyond that… he could no longer see the distinct silhouette of Gotham City. From what he could see, it appeared to be in just as much ruin as Jump. Wayne Enterprises was certainly gone, a huge hole cut into the skyline where it had once stood.

He could not see anything of Metropolis, but somehow he got the feeling that Superman had failed to save the day too, just as Batman had, and just as the Teen Titans had.

And all he had left was… he pulled the knife out of his belt and looked at it, heaving a sigh. All he had was this knife, the Clock of Eternity, the Blood Diamond hanging around his neck, and the very clothes that he was standing in – a symbol of what he had lived for, and what he had died for.

Justice.

And now it seemed that justice too had died, just as he had, and just as his friends had.

He sat on the edge of the mall and looked out over his broken city once more.

And cried.

TT

It was a while before he had calmed down enough to think everything through. He didn't know how he had ended up here; he had fixed the clock so that it would take him back ten hours, but instead it had thrown him forwards, but how many years?

Was the stupid thing broken?

No, it couldn't be, because it had brought him here.

So it could just bring him back, thankyou very much.

Ok, the logical thing to do would be to… set the clock back ten hours again, and see if it reversed what had happened. If it didn't, and threw him forwards in time again, then he would set the clock forwards twenty hours, and that should reverse it, and at least put him back where he had started. And then he could fool around with it and try again, this time intentionally going back ten hours and stopping all of this from happening.

There was nothing else he could do. He would rather have been on his own in his own time than been on his own here, where he didn't even know what year it was.

He removed the glass case from the clock again and started to wind it back ten hours. When he was done he waited for the second hand to reach XII… then pushed down the button on the top.

And waited.

Nothing happened.

He stared at the clock in horror and dismay. Was it really broken now? Had he broken it when he had landed on it? It certainly hadn't felt like it – more like the other way around – but maybe it hitting to floor had done something to it.

He shook it desperately, hoping to trigger it into throwing him into that dark timeless oblivion again.

Nothing.

He tried setting it back again, starting to panic. Pushed the button down… nothing… It wasn't working; he'd broken it…

He tried it a few more times, then gave up, near tears again. His friends might have been dead in his own time, true, but he was better off there than here, alone in a place he barely knew anymore, a place where it seemed that not only were the Teen Titans dead; everyone else was too.

Okay, calm down… I can find a clockmakers or something... they can fix the damn thing for me. There must be someone left alive in this city…

He got up and put the glass case back over the Clock of Eternity, silently cursing himself for coming up with this bright idea. Starfire and her stupid scrapbook…

He caught himself. No, it wasn't right to blame Star; it wasn't her fault. She hadn't told him to do this. How could she?

But why had he been so quick to jump on the time-travel bandwagon? There were other ways of reviving his friends; well, one.

Ra's al Ghul's Lazarus Pit.

Ra's himself was thousands of years old; he preserved himself by using the Lazarus Pit. It could prolong life… or restore it. The catch was that when you came out of the pit you were utterly stark-raving mad for about ten minutes, during which time you could be extremely hard to control. But after that… you were literally returned from the dead.

Just as he was.

He doubted that it had been the Lazarus Pit that had revived him, but if only he'd thought… But still, it wasn't like Ra's would just let him turn up in the Middle East and dump his four dead friends in the pit, only for them to emerge as four temporary lunatics wielding extreme power. But Bruce knew where the pit was – Talia, Ra's al Ghul's beauteous daughter with a bit of a thing for Brucie – and it was a pretty mutual feeling – had taken him there, and she would probably do it again, if Bruce asked her.

Talia was not evil, and neither, Robin supposed grudgingly, was Ra's, really. Ra's was just a bit of a fanatic about human resources, and seemed to think that killing off whole civilisations was the way to amend world issues. And Talia… was just loyal to her father. There was a deep bond between them, and even though Talia often didn't agree with her father's ways and methods, at the end of the day, as she always justified, he was still her father.

Robin swung down from the high roof of the mall, landing heavily on the broken sidewalk. It was dark and very, very cold, although he supposed it could be winter in this time, whereas it was only September in his own time. Robin pulled his cape around his shoulders, clutching the Clock of Eternity tightly to his chest in fear of dropping it and breaking it even more, and began to walk through the remains of his city, looking for some sign of life.

TT

Two hours later – as the not-quite-broken Clock of Eternity told him happily – found him sitting on the steps of Jump City Library, tired, hungry and half-frozen. He had been wandering the demolished streets of Jump City for that exact amount of time, and had found nothing. There were no people living here anymore; they were either all dead, or they had all cleared out years ago.

Although he had begun to pick up the pieces of what had happened, even though he still wasn't sure of how much time had passed since then.

Slade had taken over the city, and destroyed it. In this future, somehow… the Teen Titans were not alive.

He had found pieces of commando armour, circuits, faded newspaper pages lying abandoned in old dusty boarded-up stores.

All little clues that made up the big picture.

Whether Slade had unlocked the Orb of Azarath or not, he had finally achieved what he had always wanted; to get the Teen Titans out of the way, and then take over the city. And with one city in the palm of his hand, it would have been easy for him to expand, take Gotham too, and then take Metropolis…

The Teen Titans had lost.

Slade had won.

And now Robin was witness to his worst nightmare – allowing Slade to get what he wanted.

Robin shivered, looking up at the murky night sky and pulling his cape more tightly around him. What was he going to do now? There was nothing of Jump left; the buildings were demolished or simply rotted to nothing by neglect, there was no food, no water, no vehicles and no gasoline on which to run them… there seemed to be nothing left alive at all, apart from the many rats he had seen, and they didn't exactly seem full of life either.

He supposed the next move would be to go to Gotham City, see if anything was left there. Gotham was a bigger city than Jump, it was possible that there were still people living among the ruin.

Surely Bruce would still be alive?...

But then, Robin didn't know how far he had been thrown forwards. This could be 50 years into the future, or 100… or it could only be 5 – he simply didn't know.

And it was a terribly long walk to Gotham City; it took a good twenty minutes to get there by the T-car. It would take him all night to walk there, and when he did it might be in just as much ruin as Jump was.

Maybe worse.

He looked up as the sound of… a motorbike… met his ears. But as he sat there on the steps of the boarded-up, demolished library – freezing his ass off – it seemed too unreal. There was no life here at all, he knew that there wasn't…

He was proved wrong as the sound became louder and suddenly a motorcycle screeched around the corner, carrying someone – he assumed it was a man, but he couldn't quite tell from this distance – dressed all in black leather. Robin thought that the bike would just roar straight past him, but to his surprise the bike stopped in the middle of the street, right in front of library.

The biker turned off the ignition and pulled off their helmet, and Robin could instantly see that it was definitely a man. He was blond with startlingly green eyes, and he frowned at Robin sitting on the steps with his black cape drawn around his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked, as though he thought it stupid to be sitting on library steps in the freezing cold; although, actually, Robin had to agree with him.

Robin shrugged, shivering again.

The guy stuck his black helmet on the handlebar of his bike and got off it, coming over to him. There was something about him that reminded Robin of Seth Elliott; maybe it was the green eyes, or the slender physique, or the tight black leather pants.

It wasn't him, though. What the hell would Seth Elliott be doing here? He probably had more Azarathian senators to kill…

"How come you're sittin' there, kid?" The guy asked him again. "Little thing like you, all by yourself in the dark?"

Outraged, Robin stood up abruptly, flicking his cape back so that the guy could see his whole body.

The guy raised his eyebrows.

"Ok, sorry, you looked younger," he said flatly, holding his leather-gloved hands up in surrender. "It's your face." The guy took hold of Robin's chin in his firm grip. "It's really young-looking. Sort of… I dunno, chubby. I thought you were like, twelve."

Oh, it's really nice to meet you too…

Robin pulled his head out of the guy's grip, scowling as he backed away.

"I'm sixteen," he spat.

The guy shrugged.

"Still shouldn't be out on your own. Mind, it's not like you're gonna get mugged or anything; there's no-one in this dump no more anyhow."

"What… what happened?" Robin asked him quietly.

The guy snorted.

"Hell, where have you been for the past fifteen years?"

Robin blinked.

"Fifteen years?"

The guy nodded.

"Yeah, fifteen years ago, guy called Slade turned up and took over this city. It was supposed to be protected by some superhero team, Team Titans, I think they were called…"

"Teen Titans," Robin corrected immediately.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, this Slade guy, he killed them and took over, killing and destroying and whatever… and then he got Gotham, and he got Metropolis, and Blüdhaven, and that other dump… Some of the other superheroes all banded together, you know, to try and stop him, but he managed to whittle them all down. I think they're all dead now."

"Who?" Robin pressed. "Which ones?"

"I dunno, some of 'em I'd never seen before. Uhh… Batman an' Superman, I think, an' a few others…never did much good, you know."

"How come you're here?" Robin went on suspiciously. "I thought you said that no-one lived here in Jump anymore?"

"No-one does. I don't live here – I live in Gotham. It's almost as badly wrecked as this in places, but people still live there. Well, the ones that are left…" He turned around, thumbing over his shoulder; Robin saw the logo on the back of his leather jacket, reading "Gotham City Motorcycle Club", or "GCMC" for short.

"Of course, the club doesn't exist anymore," the guy explained, turning around again. "But I used to be a member."

"What are you doing here?" Robin probed, still suspicious of him.

The guy shrugged.

"Tch, I just like to ride around on my bike. Gets me away from the crap I have to live with in Gotham."

"Are you going to Gotham now?"

"Yeah. Why, do you need a ride?"

Robin nodded.

"I lost my bike," he replied truthfully; well, he had. His Bat-cycle was still outside Jump City Museum, in his own time.

"Sure, hop on," the guy said, going back to his bike. "Can't leave a little kid like you out here on your own, can I?"

"I told you, I'm sixteen," Robin snapped as he went after him, carrying the clock.

"Hey, don't get stroppy," the guy replied irritably, "or I'll dump you off again. And what the heck is that thing you're carrying?"

"A clock," Robin replied complacently, holding it up.

"You're not putting that on my bike."

"I need it," Robin argued, taking it back to his chest. "And besides, do you know how much it's worth? I can't just leave it here…"

"Alright, shut up already…" The guy had put his helmet back on and was already seated; he patted the leather seat behind him. "Lucky you're skinny, kid; there's plenty of room. Now sit your ass on it and let's go."

Robin straddled the bike, placing the Clock of Eternity between his legs and hoping that it didn't fall off.

"Ok, I'm not one for getting cosy with people I pick up off the street," the guy said, his voice a little muffled through his helmet, "but you'll have to hold onto me, or you'll fall off. Just cling onto my waist…"

Robin nodded and did as he was told.

"Where in Gotham do you want to go?"

Robin thought for a second.

"Wayne Manor," he said finally. "Take me to Wayne Manor, please."

"No problem, kid…"

Robin wasn't prepared for the take-off, almost getting thrown off as it started down the street at a reckless speed. He gripped the guy's waist so tightly he felt sure he was actually hurting him, but he daren't loosen his grip in fear of falling off the saddle. The clock seemed secure enough though, wedged between his thighs and against the guy's back.

However, the empty roads made short work of the journey, and soon the bike was screeching to halt outside the gates of Wayne Manor.

"Here's your stop, kid," the guy said brightly, turning off the engine and pulling off his helmet again.

Robin opened his eyes and peered around the guy's back.

He gasped in horror.

Wayne Manor was… in ruin… Half of it was little more than rubble, as though it had been burned to the ground, while the other parts that still stood were crumbling away, torn apart by veins of unruly ivy. The windows were smashed, the doors torn from their hinges, the once-beautifully-kept grounds a mess of weeds and debris from the mansion…

Robin slid wordlessly off the saddle of the bike, picking up the Clock of Eternity as he did so, and went to the gates of the grounds. One was missing, while the other was dented and twisted, as though it had been smashed in with a battering ram.

"Terrible, isn't it?" The guy said, coming to his side at the gates.

Robin turned to him.

"You knew?" He asked hoarsely. "You knew that this had happened?"

"Of course I did," the guy replied softly. "Everyone knows about Wayne Manor. It was destroyed… oh, about eleven or twelve years ago. Only Wayne and his butler in the house, of course. Both killed."

Robin stared at him.

"Bruce Wayne… killed?"

"Mm. Whole place looted then burnt to the ground. Never found Wayne's body, although they found the butler…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Robin asked hysterically.

The guy shrugged offishly.

"You seemed desperate to come here. I was only doing what you asked."

"Yeah, but…" Robin turned back to the sight of the demolished Manor. "I didn't realise this would have happened."

"Where the hell are you from, kid? Sweden?"

"No."

"Then how come you didn't know? You were wandering around Jump like you'd never seen it before. Didn't you know about Slade taking over?"

"It's… complicated," Robin sighed.

The guy shrugged and didn't pursue the matter.

"How come you're looking for Wayne, then? You knew him, or something?"

"Yeah." Robin nodded. "Yeah, I knew him very well."

The guy was silent for a few seconds, frowning as he studied Robin.

"You're Grayson, aren't you?" He asked finally, his voice quiet.

Robin blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Grayson. Richard Grayson." The guy folded his arms, peering very hard at him. "Bruce Wayne's ward. He went missing right after Slade took over Jump City. No-one ever saw him again, not even Wayne. But you're him, aren't you? And you've come back after all these years, looking for him. What do you need, money?"

Robin stared at him; ok, the guy was right about one thing. He was Richard Grayson, but how could this guy be making that connection, especially when he stood in his Robin uniform, the mask over his eyes, the weapons in his belt?...

But then… how old was this guy? Mid-twenties, maybe? The Teen Titans had been killed in this time over fifteen years ago, allowing Slade to take over. That would have made this guy about ten, maybe less. Robin and the Teen Titans would have been around before he was really aware of them. And Robin had left Batman's employ two years previous to that, so then this guy would have been about seven; he probably didn't even remember the idea of Batman's sidekick, Robin the Boy Wonder.

But even so, the guy had said that he had first thought that he was twelve, because he looked so young; Robin had irritably corrected him, informing him that he was actually sixteen. Hadn't it occurred to this guy that Richard, or "Dick", Grayson would be, like, thirty by now?

"No," he answered finally. "I'm not Bruce Wayne's ward."

"You're not Richard Grayson?"

"No."

The guy studied him skeptically, then shrugged.

"Sorry. I suppose you wouldn't be, would you? You're too young…"

"Yeah. I'm not the ward of the man who was killed here." And it wasn't a lie; he wasn't. This Bruce, the dead one, would have had his own Dick Grayson, a future one, and he, the present Dick Grayson, or "Robin", had his own Bruce Wayne.

"What are you gonna do now, kid?" The guy asked him.

Robin shrugged hopelessly.

"Well, I'm heading into Downtown Gotham. I'll take you with me if you like, and drop you off somewhere."

"Okay, that would be great."

Robin turned away from Wayne Manor and went with the blond guy back to the motorcycle, getting onto the back again; and this time not finding it within him to cling so tightly.

Yeah…

Review or something…

…And then you get to find out what happens next!

In theory.

RobinRocks xXx