Author note: Hello again everyone! Sorry for not updating in awhile, I've been extremely busy with summer drawing to a close. I start school next Wednesday, but hopefully I will get the next chapter out to you fairly soon. Good luck to those of you who have already started school! It can be a stressful experience, but worth it in the end. Thank you so much to all of you who have followed, favorited, and especially reviewed this story. Please continue to do so, as it motivates me to keep writing and I'm sadly not feeling as motivated as I should right now.
Also, I strongly encourage you to skim the last chapter, as to remind yourself what has happened, since I've been infrequent with my updates. With that being said, enjoy!

Disclaimer: The character's aren't mine

Chapter 7: Frustration in Many Forms

Robin flew along the highway, his motorcycle speeding across the asphalt. Wind whipped across his body, putting uncomfortable pressure on his burns and wounds, but it felt like winds of heaven. He had been so disgusting that any breeze was welcome, and this constant wave of air not only cooled his sweaty body off, but also put him in high spirits. He was free, wild, and breathing pure air at last.

As time passed on, the road led Robin through barren land, devoid of human establishments yet flourishing with cornfields. The sky above was a vibrant blue, and the high sun seemed to cheer him. By its position, the Boy Wonder guessed it to be around one or two o'clock in the afternoon. Without his communicator and mental link, Robin had no way to contact his teammates. Combined with the fact that he had no idea where he was, this would easily seem a depressing situation, but the teen felt so such weight. The day was simply too beautiful and full of promise for such negative thoughts.

It struck Batman's protégé as odd that there were no other cars on the highway. As he rushed onwards, he did so alone. There weren't any signs of human life. Where on earth was he? Surely there had to be somebody out here? His mind pricked with apprehension at the thought that he might not even be in the United States. He could be in a completely different country, for all he knew. The thought was highly unlikely, yet possible. All he could do was drive on and hopefully wind up in a town.

To Robin's great relief, that's exactly what happened. One minute he was riding along, eyeing a cloud that looked like a killer whale, and then his gaze dropped and there were buildings. Not many—in fact, it looked like this town was more of a pit stop for travelers on the highway—but something man-made nonetheless. As he drew nearer, Robin's guess turned out to be true. There was a gas station, convenient store (which apparently had a Subway restaurant inside), motel, and several houses off to the side. The teenager drove to the gas station and pulled up beside one of the gas tanks. Fortunately, he reserved one of the slots in his utility belt for money. Batman had insisted on it, in case this kind of situation would arise.

But, as Robin opened the slot, his jaw dropped. "Damn!"

It was completely empty. It seemed highly unlikely that his pocket had magically opened in the struggle at Arkenson Industries, so Scarecrow or Sportsmaster must have been rummaging through his belt while he was induced in that horrid nightmarish state. The thought of either of them groping at his unconscious body made Robin extremely uncomfortable, and he was all the more glad to be away from them. He hastily fumbled at his other pockets, pulling them open only to find all other items in place.

Letting out a harsh sigh, Robin climbed off the motorcycle and kicked out the foot brake. Glancing around, he strode over to the nearby convenience store and went inside. The sight of food made his mouth water—he couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten. But, to his great surprise, he wasn't actually that hungry. He was about as hungry as he would be if he ate a small breakfast and skipped lunch. Yes he wanted food, but didn't crave it as a person would if they hadn't eaten in days.

"Hello?" Robin called, peering over the stocked shelves. There was only silence, and the uneasy feeling inside him grew. Nobody was here either? The door had an "Open" sign on it—the entire situation was just weird.

Despite not seeing a storeowner, the Boy Wonder hurried to the shelves and inspected the food. He took a large bottle of Diet Coke and small bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. Upon spying the small Subway section inside, he walked to the counter, eyeing the toppings and bread options with wide eyes.

"Hello?" he called again, growing impatient. "Is anyone here?"

There wasn't so much as a whisper.

Robin hesitated, then propped his elbow on the glass counter and jumped over it. When he landed, the teen placed his chips and drink by the cash register, freeing his hands. He then proceeded to make the most delicious sandwich he had ever laid eyes upon.

Emotion churned in his stomach, and he was pretty sure it wasn't hunger. Guilt boiled inside him, but he pushed it down. He had been planning on negotiating with the owner. He was a famous symbol, a widely known hero, and surely the worker or manager would be happy to lend him some food. He would promise to pay them back, and maybe they would have some sympathy as they saw how horridly roughed up he was.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Robin reached for the lettuce, only to accidentally knock the bag of Doritos onto the floor. He bent down, reaching out to retrieve them when suddenly there was a noise.

A door in the back could be heard opening, and soft footsteps followed.

Robin suddenly felt a rush of relief—there was somebody here! Quickly, he snatched up his chips and popped up, smiling. His eyes immediately locked with a woman. She looked to be in her thirties, and had a pin on her shirt that said "Manager." He watched as her eyes grew wide, and winced internally that she had to see him in such a condition. But, as she paled and stumbled backwards, her face a mask of terror, it was his turn to be shocked. The woman let out an ear-piercing scream, and he in turn flinched backwards, knocking into the wall.

"P-please!" he stammered, speechless at her sudden behavior. "It's me! I'm Robin! Surely you must—"

As he took a step forwards, she cut him off with another shout and thrust her hands in front of her, seemingly wanting to put as many barriers between them as possible. "Don't!" she wailed, pure terror welling up in her eyes. "Stay away from me!"

He felt as if he had been struck. Usually people were surprised to see the Robin. Some (although not criminals) even asked for an autograph or picture. But not this. Anything but this.

"I'm Robin!" he practically shouted, unable to think of anything else to say.

Her face twisted into a snarl. "I know who you are! You keep away from me. I know self-defense—stay the hell away!"

"What?!" the Boy Wonder sputtered. "I don't want to hurt you! I would never do that! I know I look bad, but I will protect you in any condition!"

The woman seemed to swell up, making Robin press back against the wall. "LIAR!" she screeched. Then, she turned her head towards the door she had come through. "Dave!" she howled. "Dave, help me!"

Robin gaped at her, completely shocked. "Please, I mean no harm! I'm Batman's protégé!"

Just then, a burly, bearded man burst through the door, brandishing a black gun. He was like a giant, heaving buffalo, Robin noticed. His face was red and, as his eyes swept the room, they locked with the teenagers.

Immediately, Robin's hands were in the air, letting his sandwich fall to the floor. "Look, I know what this looks like but—"

"It looks the hell like a robbery," the man Robin supposed was Dave growled. "The Boy Wonder finally shows his face—finally gathered up an ounce of courage."

"What are you talking about?" Robin, hurt by the man's words, suddenly took the defensive. "I was locked up by Scarecrow! Can you not see my face? These burns? I was a prisoner, but now I escaped!"

"Lies!" the woman spat.

Dave now turned to her and walked beside her, in between her and Robin. He shot the teenager a glare, before looking at the woman. "Linda, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I just…I just can't believe Robin would show up here." She regarded Robin with narrowed eyes. "What did we do to make you steal from us?"

"Nothing! I was held prisoner, and just escaped, and I need some food and—"

"The audacity!" Linda spat. "Do you even have money with you?"

Oh hell, Robin thought, wincing. "Not exactly. Scarecrow must have—"

Robin had to cut himself off as he sidestepped, watching the flashlight whistle past his head and crack against the wall. "Er, Linda, please don't throw things at me, I—"

"No! Dave, shoot him before he hurts us!"

Dave, without hesitation, raised the gun.

Upon seeing a flame of determination in the man's eyes, Robin dropped to the ground, hiding behind the counter. There was an explosion of sound, and Robin watched three bullets hit the wall he was facing and ricochet. Thankfully, none of them hit him, and he dug into his utility belt.

From his position behind the counter, Robin's view was rather limited. He didn't want to peer too far over, unless Dave shot at his head, but he needed to think of a plan and fast. As he listened, the Boy Wonder could hear Dave slowly approaching.

Robin rapidly tried to process the situation, but couldn't seem to gather his bearings. The people thought he was going to hurt them! Why would they think like that? Did something happen while he was stowed away in Scarecrow's dungeon?

"Come out, Little Man. I have a gun, and even your Bird-a-rangs can't beat that."

The voice was close—to Robin's left. He had to do something. Now.

Praying that he didn't accidentally hit Linda, the teen lept up, pulling out a smoke bomb. In one swift movement, it was sent flying through the air. There was an explosion in one of the isles, and then black smoke surrounded them.

Robin sprang into action. He could hear Dave's disoriented grunts as the older man stumbled around, yet dared not fire the gun in fear of hitting Linda. The teen wasn't sure where the woman was, but sprang through the fog, regardless. He had to be quick, or else get a bullet to the brain. Sprinting, he ran though the small store, remembering where items had been when he first perused the isles. He grabbed a new bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, another large Diet Coke, clothes, and a map.

Then he launched another smoke bomb and was gone.

.

.

Superboy eagerly bit into his hamburger, letting the flavor sink it. He was happy to finally fill his groaning stomach—he had been working so hard and long that even this low-quality food tasted like it was made by Gordon Ramsey. As he glanced at his teammates, he was sure they felt the same way. But even the much-needed food couldn't lessen the anxiety that had been rising inside him throughout the day.

After reading Scarecrow's note and poem, a brief discussion broke out among the heroes. However, Superboy figured it could easily have been called an argument as well. Upon remembering the note, one word came to his mind: headache. The note was confusing, to put it simply. Batman had been so angry at Scarecrow, yet unable to guess the code for the iPhone, that he had plummeted into another fit of rage. Unable to help, the teams unhappily discussed (or rather, violently discussed) what to do. It soon became obvious that figuring out the password would take a great deal of time, so Barry pointed out that they clearly needed to rest their muscles and get some food. Hawkwoman and Red Tornado had also decided it would be best to have someone in the Watchtower, so they had departed for there.

In the present, the remaining members were at the local park, eating away at what they bought at one of the food stands. Superboy, supplied with a burger, fries, and a soda, was sitting beside the Young Justice team in the lush grass. Several picnic tables surrounded them in a circle, and were seated by the Leaguers. Batman sat on top of one, glaring daggers at his untouched hamburger. Superman, who was resting beside him, talked to the other man quietly, taking bites of his pretzel in between sentences. Superboy, able to depict the other's quiet words with his super-hearing, chose to focus his ears on the sound of his own teeth chomping away at his food. Even he was well-mannered enough to respect their privacy.

For several minutes, nobody spoke, aside from the whispering pair. They were all either remembering what food tasted like, or contemplating Scarecrow's note, Superboy figured. He quickly gulped down his French fries, and finally someone spoke.

"Alright," Black Canary said, setting her empty ice cream cup down, "I think we should all discuss Scarecrow's note now that we've gotten stocked up on food and re-energized."

There were murmurs of agreement from the assembled parties, and Batman raised his head. In the last few minutes, it seemed Superman had talked him into eating a few bites of his hamburger. "We need to figure out the code for the iPhone," the Caped Crusader growled, his mouth a thin line. "The hint Scarecrow gave us was this: 'When I went on a road trip to Texas in my car, I took two extra tires.'"

Wally frowned. "That offers us practically no information. How the hell does he expect us to figure it out?"

"Maybe he doesn't," M'gann commented, her eyes large with worry. "Maybe he just wants us to waste time sitting here and thinking. I don't come from this planet, but that hint is very unhelpful by all standards."

"We can't give up!" Superboy insisted, setting his empty soda bottle aside. "We've come too close."

"It may be hopeless, but we don't have any other leads," Wonderwoman agreed. "We can't stop trying until we have an answer."

"She's right." Batman stood and began pacing around them, his arms crossed. "Does anyone have any guesses to what it could mean?"

"Maybe it's centered around Texas," Wally suggested. "It seems like a very random detail to throw in there. He said he was driving to Texas."

"The whole thing is random if you look at it that way," Artemis grunted.

"It's a good point, but what about Texas? That state has thousands, millions, of tiny details about it," Black Canary added.

"It would take ages to analyze the entire state," Superboy sighed.

"Like M'gann said, maybe that is what he wants," Green Arrow said. "Maybe it's indented to take a long amount of time to find the answer. It would be a good idea to start looking for information now."

"I don't think so," Aqualad argued. "Yes, the answer is probably supposed to take a great length of time to find, but searching in that manner would most likely prove futile. The information regarding Texas is too great, and we do not have very solid information."

"I agree," Aquaman said. "But, the answer may not be hidden in information at all."

"What do you mean?" Batman asked, continuing to pace around them.

"I mean that maybe the answer isn't hidden in what the words mean but in the words themselves. Like, maybe if you rearrange the letters in the sentence they read an address or something like that."

"That seems highly unlikely," Green Arrow said. "How on earth would we possibly unscramble them correctly? It would take forever and there are a thousand things the words could say."

"Well, he is a professor of sorts," Superboy said uncertainly. "The answer is sure to be a clever one, no doubt."

"But not that clever." Wally scowled. "We could never figure that out."

"The paper may be worth looking at," Flash piped up, extending his hand. "Batman, can I take a look at it?"

With a curt nod, the Dark Knight handed the paper to him. Barry unfolded and examined it. "Continue with the discussion," he said, staring intently at Scarecrow's scrawled handwriting. "This may take awhile."

M'gann raised her head. "Maybe it has something to do with a car. He is apparently taking a road trip to Texas. Maybe a car has something to do with it."

And so began the discussion that continued for several hours. The entire time, Superboy, like everyone else, was aching with worry for Robin, anxiety, and frustration that they were unable to solve this riddle. They entered proposed passwords countless times, and the phone had responded exactly how Artemis had said—by shutting down. The most frustrating times were when they were unable to even try a password for a great stretch of time. Tempers were raised, feelings were bristled, and, altogether, it was a very unpleasant. They had thrown out many suggestions, but nothing seemed right and they were only willing to test the most reasonable ones, as not to lock up the iPhone. Superboy could only frown and watch as the sun sank lower in the sky.

Then, hours after they had arrived at the park, Barry had an idea.

"Does anyone have a pencil?" he asked, shooting up his head suddenly.

Before anyone could respond, he was gone in a blur of red. Seconds later, he was back, sitting in his exact same seat, clutching a pencil in hand and scribbling on the paper.

"What are you doing?" Batman demanded, stalking over.

"Maybe what Aquaman said was right," the speedster said, his hand rapidly in motion. "Maybe we aren't supposed to focus too much on the words, but draw out a picture and use that to help figure it out."

"The numbers," Wonderwoman added, nodding in approval. "We are looking for a four-digit number code. Maybe he is hinting at which numbers to use by his choice of words."

"Seems confusing," Wally said, uncertainly looking at his uncle. "How would somebody driving to Texas look like anything?"

Superboy stood and walked over to see what Flash was drawing. On the paper was what appeared to be the outline of Texas, with a road and a car next to it. The car had two extra tires, as said in the note.

"Maybe the extra tires have to do with something," M'gann said, eyeing the poorly-drawn picture. "I now we already tried to figure out how the extra tires were incorporated into this, but maybe they are represented by the number eight. Two tires look like the number eight."

"Good idea," Barry said, drawing the image alongside the car. "Any more suggestions?"

Several people offered ideas, which the Flash added to the paper. Then, he pulled out the iPhone and began testing some of their theories. After two unsuccessful tries, the air was crackling with tension. One more chance. If it was wrong, the phone would lock up again and they would be helpless for another two hours.

Then, Wonderwoman suddenly slammed her hand down on the picnic table, making Wally flinch. "I think I have it," she said, excitement barely concealed in her voice. "If you think about it, cars have four wheels on them. Each side of a car makes a pair of two. That could mean who number eights. The spare tires are separate—they would be portrayed in two number zeros, seeing as zeros look like tires. The mention of Texas is a very random detail—most likely intended to throw us off. But the code would therefore be eight-eight-zero-zero."

All eyes turned to Barry. He hesitated, took a deep breath, then extended his hand, clutching the phone, to Batman. The Caped Crusader took the device immediately, and stared at it for several seconds. Then, his blank face hiding all emotions, he entered the code Wonderwoman suggested.

8-8-0-0

The iPhone made a sliding sound and unlocked.