Young Justice -:- Hooked

Author's Note(s): Thanks to everyone for leaving the nice shiny comments! I'm getting some mixed responses as to whether or not Bats would know Romani, and actually I agree that he probably would because, you know, he's Batman. The reason why I wrote it otherwise is because I wanted to completely isolate Robin with the whole literally not being understood thing and give him lots and lots of delicious angst :D

And to Moth165 – Good eyes! :D There were a good few days between writing those two scenes and I didn't catch it until the read through, but I decided to leave it and hope nobody caught the mistake lol. My theory; Batman keeps a spare cowl at the office :P

But anyway – Enjoy!

Chapter Five -:- Nightmares

It was eerily quiet on the Watch Tower.

Dick didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. On the one hand, it meant that he didn't have to face the embarrassment of trying to hold a conversation while his brain could spew nothing but Romani. However, it also meant that he was alone with only his thoughts for company. And right now, that was dangerous.

He didn't remember a whole lot of what had happened. He knew that the Joker had been involved (that maniac's laugh was kinda hard to forget) and that it had hurt, a lot (it still did). From what he could feel through the painkillers, he figured that there was barely an inch of him that had escaped unscathed, even though he could tell that it had been a lot worse. He could see the concern in the faces of everyone who had dropped by to visit. They would all look at him like a fragile china doll that could break at any minute.

It was grating, to say the least.

But that wasn't the worst part.

He lifted his hand (the one that wasn't attached to the end of his currently useless arm) and gingerly brushed the bandage on the side of his head. Some of his hair had grown back in the time since the surgery, but he had the sneaking suspicion that he still looked a little bit like Two-Face, though he had yet to be allowed to see his reflection to confirm this. He knew that beneath the gauze was the reason why his ability to speak English had vanished. He could still understand what people were saying, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get the right words to come out.

He worried what the team would think of having a brain-damaged hacker along on missions. But then again, he doubted that Bruce would even let him anywhere near them until he was fluent again – if he was ever fluent again. Bruce was probably worried that it would compromise his civilian ID or something.

Not that Dick knew what his mentor was thinking. He had barely seen him since he had woken up for real six days ago. Bruce had given him this horrified look as they had both realised that something was terribly wrong with the Boy Wonder, and then… well, they hadn't had a proper conversation since.

Was he disappointed with him? Did he think that because he hadn't managed to survive an audience with the Joker with all his faculties still intact that now he somehow wasn't good enough? Was Dick right to think that he was failing as Robin…?

Gah! Dick internally huffed as he tried to reassure the doubts that haunted him as he was trapped in his hospital bed. He wished that Bruce would just talk to him. Hell, he wished that he could actually ask the questions that plagued him and be understood!

"Hi, Robin," the Flash greeted as he appeared in the door frame, smiling lightly. His bright red costume was slightly torn and scorched as if he had just come back from a mission; his cowl pulled down so that he was half-speedster and half-forensic scientist Barry Allen. Dick gave a small wave in response, not even bothering to try and say 'hello'. "I heard that you're getting out of here today. Looking forward to going back home?"

Dick nodded.

Barry grinned, and then sped over to take Bruce's glaringly vacant seat. "Wally would be so jealous if he knew that you were up here on the Watch Tower," he said, and then shrugged. "Though under different circumstances, of course…"

Dick looked down at the blankets as he imagined what it would be like if he could actually tell Wally, or Roy, or anyone what had happened. He could picture them joking about how lucky he was to visit the secret satellite base (even though he had honestly only seen the one room…) that they were banned from until they were Justice League material. What would it be like if he could actually talk to them, without worrying about his secrets or lying every other sentence…?

Not that that would ever happen. Especially not now. He'd open his mouth, spout gibberish, and they'd just look at him like the damaged goods he was.

"Look, Rob, it's going to be okay," Barry said reassuringly, as if he could read Dick's expression like a book. "You're going to be okay. Dinah is pretty damn sure that this… that this setback is just temporary. Some speech therapy, a couple of months of R&R, and you'll be back to quipping and kicking the bad guy's butts like nothing ever happened."

Dick highly doubted that. "Dar Bruce…"

"Is freaking out right now," Barry finished, making Dick give him a highly incredulous look. "It's true. You know him better than anyone, Robin. He claims that he doesn't feel fear, but that's because he just runs away from it. He cares about you, like a father."

"Atunci de ce nueaici?" Then why isn't he here? Dick asked, not even caring that he wasn't speaking English.

Barry seemed to get the gist of the question anyway. He leaned forward and placed a hand on Dick's less damaged shoulder. "He was here the whole time. I don't think that he ever left this chair the whole time that you were asleep. He even let Superman go after the Joker."

"Realmente?" His stunned expression said it all, making Barry laugh softly.

"Yeah, really," he agreed. "Don't worry so much. Just concentrate on getting better, and this whole thing is going to end up feeling like a really bad dream."

Dick smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. The doubts weren't gone, far from it, but he was beginning to see that things might just get better. He was still alive after all, which was more than he had been expecting while he had been hanging in that warehouse. Maybe once he was better he could convince Bruce to let him pay the Joker a visit in Arkham. What he wouldn't give to see that psychopath's face when he realised that he had failed.

Barry said his goodbyes and vanished in a gust of wind, leaving the Boy Wonder on his own once again. But he didn't stay that way for long.

Bruce appeared in the doorway, his eyes purposely looking at anything other than Dick. Behind him was Dinah and the wheelchair that would be his transport between there and the zeta-tubes.

"You ready to go home, kiddo?"

A visit to Arkham Asylum was never fun.

As Batman swept through the halls, flanked on either side by two guards, he silently took in the dismal gothic architecture and the constant soundtrack of wailing and moaning that seemed to come from the very bricks and mortar. The low lighting and damp air made the place feel more like a medieval castle than a medical facility, the building just as deranged as its patients.

They didn't head towards the cells, but took a left, heading along the North Wing and towards the asylum's medical bay. Batman had almost smiled when he had been told where the Joker was currently taking residence, though he still regretted not being the one to put him there.

Superman had shown great restraint when bringing the Joker in. The Clowned Prince was only in a full body cast.

Batman paused outside the door to the secured room as one of the guards stepped forward and unlocked the door. Once the Dark Knight had crossed the threshold, they locked the door behind him and stood to attention outside.

"Oh, Batsy…" The Joker wheezed around one of the many tubes trailing between him and the machines around him, his grin widening as he took in his visitor. "You're alive! I knew you would be – you're far too good to be taken out by one little bomb!"

Batman glared at the homicidal clown, his gloved hands clenched so tightly by his sides – the only outward sign of his struggle to restrain himself.

"I was worried about you," Joker pouted. "When you sent the big Blue Boy Scout after me instead of coming to get me yourself, I feared the worst! But then again, I'm sure you had other things to clean up. Tell me, how long did it take you to find all the pieces of the Boy Blunder?"

Batman forced himself not to react, not to give anything away. The egotistical part of him wanted to smugly tell the Joker that he had failed to kill Robin, to rub in the fact that Batman had beaten him once again. But the more sensible part of his brain told him that if the clown thought that Robin was dead, then he wouldn't go after him again. He could keep his son safe from this psychopath.

"When is the funeral?" Joker asked, as if honestly expecting an invitation. "I'd imagined it will be a closed casket…"

"Why Robin?" Batman interrupted, not particularly wanting to imagine his son's funeral.

The Joker smirked. "I would have thought that'd be fairly obvious, Batsy. Because it was fun."

Batman took a step forward, barely stopping himself from crossing the room and wrapping his hands around the murderer's throat.

The Joker laughed gleefully, though he ended up coughing painfully rather quickly. "There you are, Batsy! My Batsy! All glowering and dark and deliciously angsty! That's what I've been craving for so long! No more distractions! No more Wonder Boy stealing your attention away from me! Just you and me! That's the way it was always meant to be!"

"No, Joker," Batman said forcefully. "You made a mistake. You went after my protégé. You pissed off the entire Justice League. You are never leaving this cell again."

The Joker smirked. "Oh, Batsy. Greif is making you naïve! You and I both know that I can leave here whenever I want. Arkham is just a halfway house for me. I can walk out the front door tomorrow." He giggled a little and gestured at the body cast. "Well, maybe not tomorrow. But when I can walk, we'll be back to playing our little games once again. I just can't wait!"

"This wasn't your game, Joker," Batman retorted.

The glee vanished from the clown's white face, the grin dipping into a dangerous sneer. "And what is that supposed to mean, Batsy? This was my plan, my idea to get you back from the little birdie…"

"Oh sure, you get some creative credit – the Last Laugh nightclub was a nice touch," Batman interrupted, taking another step forward. "But you were just the distraction."

"No!" Joker spluttered, his heart monitor spiking.

"It was Black Mask that arranged the prison break," Batman explained, just about resisting smirking as he destroyed the Joker's illusions of grandeur. "He transferred Springheeled Jack from England – only a foreigner who didn't believe your rep would agree to work with you – and set him up to lead Robin to where you were hiding out once you escaped. He used you to keep me occupied while he made a move on the Penguin's territory. The Black Mask is more powerful than ever – and you're here. Tell me, Joker, how does it feel to be a pawn in someone else's game?"

"No!" Joker yelled, as he tried to get up and move while constrained in the body cast. As he thrashed weakly, Batman closed the distance between them and studied the machines and wires attached to the criminal. "I killed the Bird! It was my plan! My idea! I killed him! I killed the Bird!"

Batman found the controls for the Joker's morphine drip.

"About that," Batman muttered, unable to resist twisting the knife just a little deeper. With a casual flick he turned off the supply of pain medication. "You didn't really think that a trap like that would beat me, did you?"

The Joker stared wide-eyed at the Dark Knight for a moment. "No… I killed the bird…" he murmured.

Batman just smirked, and then he left the room, enjoying the Joker's scream of frustration.

"NOOOOOOOO!"

"Robin, hack," Aqualad ordered.

The Boy Wonder blinked, glancing at his team leader before taking in his surroundings. They were in some kind of high tech facility – maybe Cadmus, though Robin couldn't really be sure. Everything was bright and white, like a lab, but there were no windows. The air tasted dry, like it was being recycled – maybe they were underground or something.

Kid Flash nudged Robin in the shoulder, trying to inspire action. Robin winced, as if the speedster had hit a bruise, and then looked down to find a data port right in front of him. Quickly, he activated his wrist computer and pulled out the connector cable, line after line of data suddenly appearing on the holographic display.

But he didn't actually know what he was looking for.

Robin threw Kid Flash a helpless look, managing to communicate the question even from behind the lenses of the domino mask. The speedster groaned impatiently. "He's forgotten again!"

Robin furrowed his brow in confusion as Aqualad studied him carefully. "Perhaps it was too soon after the accident to have put him back on active duty."

"Ya think?" Kid Flash asked sarcastically. The Boy Wonder flinched at his best friend's irritation, wondering what the hell he had done wrong to annoy him. And what was the accident that Aqualad talking about? "Okay, for the hundredth time, Rob, we're looking for Supey. Cadmus took him and put him back in a pod, so if you could stop spacing out every five minutes and find him already…"

"Kid Flash!" Aqualad admonished. The speedster shrugged as if he wasn't the one doing anything wrong. "Guard the door."

The redhead did as he was told, but not before passing one more frustrated look at the bewildered hacker.

"I'm sorry, Robin," Aqualad apologised as he placed a reassuring hand on the Boy Wonder's shoulder. Pain spiked throughout Robin's entire arm, making him shrug away from the touch and stagger backwards. Aqualad looked at him sympathetically. What the hell was going on? "Kid is just upset from losing Superboy; he does not mean to be so short with you."

"I don't understand what's happening," Robin replied. "I don't remember how I got here."

Aqualad sighed. "Can you locate Superboy?"

That wasn't any of the answers that Robin was hoping for, but he guessed that a kidnapped teammate was kind of more important than his memory problems. He nodded and then returned his attention to his wrist computer. Within moments he pulled up the file for Project Kr and skim read through the information. "They've got him on level sixteen, but there's se…"

"Where?" Aqualad interrupted.

Robin threw him a questioning look, but repeated himself regardless. "Level sixteen. But they've increased…"

"Robin, where is Superboy?" Aqualad asked again, this time loud enough to draw Kid Flash away from where he was half-heartedly keeping watch.

"Level. Sixteen." Robin ground out, feeling himself getting angry. "But there are geno…"

Kid Flash tutted irritably. "He's doing it again."

Doing what again?!

Aqualad silenced any further comment from Kid Flash with a look and then turned to Robin. "Can you show us?"

Robin huffed, wondering what the hell was going on but playing along anyway. He lifted the wrist computer and jabbed at the keyboard, pulling up the building's blueprints. His teammates studied the map briefly, and then turned to leave.

"Come on!" Kid Flash called as he sped off, leaving Aqualad to follow in his wake.

"Wait!" Robin yelled, but his team leader ignored him as he vanished from the room. "They've updated security, there are hundreds of genomorphs… why aren't you listening to me?! Gah!"

Robin ran after them, ignoring the odd burning sensation in his chest as he quickly ended up panting from exertion. He skidded on the linoleum floor as he rounded the corners too fast, all the corridors looking the same no matter which way he went. He was going far slower than he knew that he was capable, but for some reason he couldn't push himself to go any faster. He couldn't catch up.

By the time that he had reached the elevator, Aqualad was already inside and speeding downwards. Kid Flash had taken the stairs and was probably already nearing level sixteen. He had to catch up to them. He had to warn them. Stop them.

He pried open the elevator doors, ignoring the complaints from practically every part of his body. Why did he hurt so much? Was it the accident? What accident? He looked down the shaft, watching the rapidly descending elevator car get further and further away. He took his grapple gun from his belt and fired it at the top of the structure, and then fearlessly jumped into the depths.

He was in free fall for a few moments before the line caught to slow his descent. The jolt that vibrated the entire length of the rope and down through his arm made him cry out in pain. His vision whited out from the sensory overload, and when it finally came back, he realised that he wasn't holding his grapple anymore.

He was falling.

Robin flashed back to that night in Haly's Circus, watching his family fall. He couldn't tell if he was hearing their screams, or if it was his own that tore unbidden from his throat. The drop seemed to go on for so much longer than just sixteen floors.

He landed on the elevator car with a jarring thud. The metal dented beneath him so that it curved around him in a hard embrace. He knew that he should be dead. No one could have survived that fall. But for some reason, he was still breathing. He dragged himself onto his hands and knees, trying to figure out what was broken (because seriously, something had to be) but his body had hurt so damn much anyway that he couldn't tell the difference.

With a short shake of his head, he decided to worry about it later and focus on saving his friends for now. He found the hatch in the roof of the car and climbed inside, grateful that he then only had to press a button to step out onto the sixteenth floor.

The corridor was made up of the red, gooey architecture that they had discovered as they had ventured deeper into Cadmus the last time. The pods that looked like teenage pimples had all been popped, spewing foul-smelling liquid onto the floor, their previous occupants long since freed. The sounds of a struggle came from further down, and Robin took off running towards them.

He found himself in a huge cavern like space that should not have been possible within the Cadmus facility. It was full of seemingly every variation of genomorph, from the hulking G-Trolls, to the shoulder limpet G-Gnomes. Sparks of electricity showered from the G-Sprites that were meant to purely be the facility's power source, and the dim red light reflected in the blade-like claws of the G-Elves.

Aqualad and Kid Flash were greatly outnumbered. The Atlantean had his water bearers drawn and was using them in whip form, slashing through as many of the genomorphs as possible. Kid Flash sped between them, getting in a lot of super-fast hits, but he never had been very good at running on slippery surfaces.

As Robin watched, Kid Flash lost his footing and went sliding into the centre of a horde of G-Elves. They were on him in an instant, but the speedster was just as quick. He was up and fighting back, but he couldn't break out of the circle surrounding him, stopping him from building up speed. Fresh rips and dark crimson marred the red and yellow of his uniform.

"Wally! Behind you!" Robin yelled.

But Kid Flash couldn't understand him. The G-Elf's claw tore right through the lightning bolt emblazoned on his chest, green eyes growing wide behind his goggles.

"NO!" Robin screamed. He ran the distance between himself and his best friend, skidding between the legs of a G-Troll. He dropped to his knees in the growing pool of blood and dragged Kid Flash onto his lap. He held him tight, rocking manically as the battle continued to rage on around them.

Eventually, Aqualad knelt in front of him and tried to take Kid Flash out of the Boy Wonder's arms. But Robin refused to co-operate, too lost in his own grief to realise the danger that they were in.

That was until a G-Elf cut Aqualad's head off.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred called urgently as the de-cowled Dark Knight stepped out of the batcave. He gave a questioning look to his butler as the grandfather clock slid closed behind him. "It is Master Richard, I cannot wake him!"

Bruce was immediately running towards his son's room with Alfred hot on his heels, the elder gentlemen pretty spry for his age. They sprinted the length of the corridor of the sleeping quarters before barrelling through the bedroom door that had been left open.

Locked in the horrors of a nightmare was Dick Grayson, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in pain and fear as he thrashed and groaned. Bruce was by his side in an instant, leaning over his son and trying to restrain him without hurting him any further. "Dick! Dick please! Wake up!"

Alfred came around to the other side of the bed to remove the IV before it was ripped out in the boy's struggles. Fresh blood stained the white bandages from the stiches that had been torn and the sling that had been keeping Dick's badly injured shoulder stable had been pulled free. If he continued to panic and flail as he was currently, all of the hard work would be completely undone.

"Dick! Dickie please!" Bruce called desperately. He let go of his son's arms as Dick screamed in agony, afraid that he was hurting him. He tried instead to lightly slap Dick's cheek, trying to break him free of whatever he was seeing. But it wasn't working. Dick was so lost in the visions his mind was feeding him that their attempts to wake him were futile.

Dick tried to roll onto his side and curl up, but he accidentally left his injured arm behind. The sudden movement ripped all of the delicate stitching, blood soaking through the bandage so fast that it was dark red in less than a minute. If they didn't wake him soon he could lose use of that arm permanently…

Bruce glanced around for something, anything to wake up his son. His gaze settled on the glass of cold water that Alfred had provided within easy reach. The butler watched as Bruce reached for the glass, both of them prepared to catch the boy once the water had done its work. Taking a deep breath, Bruce tipped the glass's contents on to Dick's face.

The Boy Wonder shot up as if he had been blasted from a cannon.

Tears were streaming down his face as he gasped and panted, wild blue eyes darting around to try and ease his disorientation. Bruce wrapped Dick in as tight hug as he could without breaking anything, whispering random, soothing words until Dick finally calmed down.

By the time that Dick broke free from the embrace with an embarrassed smile, Alfred had already found a towel and brought it back for him. He dried off as best he could; trying to subtly scrub away the tears before either Bruce or Alfred could notice and comment. The images from the nightmare played out again and again in his mind's eye. He could still see Kaldur's stunned face as his head rolled a long way away from his shoulders. He could still feel Wally's blood, warm and sticky on his hands.

Bruce studied his son carefully, taking in his ghostly pale skin and shivering body. Alfred would need to redo a lot of his stitches, but Bruce decided that that could wait for a moment. They needed to talk first. "Alfred, can you give us a moment, please?"

"Of course, sir," the butler nodded, giving both of his charges an almost imperceptible cautious look before taking his leave and closing the door behind him.

Dick flinched as the door clicked closed, and then looked up at Bruce as if only just realising that they were alone. He parted his lips as if he were about to ask a question, but then frowned and sunk back against his pillows.

"I've given this a lot of thought," Bruce began tentatively. Dick watched him apprehensively, as if he already knew what was coming. "In light of recent events, I think that it's best if we retire Robin for a while."

"Ce?" Dick demanded, his voice rough from crying out in his sleep. Bruce glanced at the bloodied bandages that covered almost every inch of his son's body, but then quickly looked away. He couldn't identify the emotion that burned in his stomach and made his convictions waver, so he tried to ignore it, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. "Dar…"

"You can't be Robin anymore," Bruce reiterated, a little more forcefully, his gut clenching painfully as his words hit home. He so desperately wanted to leave, to get away from the betrayed expression that was etched into every bruise and stitch on Dick's face. "You said that you were having doubts about your abilities and your role on the team, and with the way things went, maybe you were right."

Dick physically flinched as if that sentence had been an actual punch to the gut. It had come out so wrong, but Bruce couldn't think of a way to back track without making things worse. "Asta nu a fost ceea ce am vrut să spun…"

Bruce shook his head in frustration, wishing that he could understand his son. He just wanted to keep him safe. He never wanted to see Dick in so much pain again – to hear him scream in agony like that. He knew that taking Robin away from him would hurt, but it was for the best.

"I'm sorry, Dickie," he murmured as he stood and headed for the door, leaving a shell shocked ex-Boy Wonder to stare at his retreating back.

It was for the best.

Awww, poor Dick. The hits just keep on coming. And silly Bruce for his terrible timing… Both of them are going to end up needing Black Canary's therapy sessions once I'm done with them :D

Just a quick warning: Chapter six is likely to be late. I haven't even started it yet and I've got work the next few days. Hopefully I'll have it done and posted by Tuesday; Wednesday latest. And then this fic is officially finished :)

TRANSLATIONS: (Courtesy of Google Translate – Romanian)
Dar: But
Ce: What
Asta nu a fost ceea ce am vrut să spun: That wasn't what I meant