Robin
String music blares through wall speakers in low tones. He strides past gold embroidered white walls. Men with pristine red suit jackets and white gloves nod to him as he passes. He steps to the tempo of the music, eyes everywhere. He wears his best black tuxedo with a red tie. He smirks at everyone he passes; the grin of a rich, arrogant guy who knows how good looking he is and likes to flaunt it. The kind of customer the Iceberg Lounge loves to have. A blond woman saunters toward him, her hips swaying back and forth. Her dark eyes fix on him, an eyebrow raised just slightly. She looks young for her age. Most people would guess early twenties, but he's better trained, he knows she's in her thirties. Her lips curl as she nears him, her black dress tightens around her body in all the right ways, and she knows it. Knows how to use it, too.
She opens her mouth to speak. He gives her a smile and a nod. She flushes and freezes as he passes her by. He resists the urge to shake his head, then squares his shoulders, and marches for the elevator at the end of the hall. A man in a red jacket opens the elevator for him, and another man inside presses the button for him. He lets out a contented sigh as they make their ascent. He's wearing the mask of a socialite prince well. He's hiding his contempt for the socialite lifestyle well, too. The elevator doors open to a circular, multilevel ballroom. Red carpets with intricate gold patterns line the floor. He steps out of the elevator. A red jacket hands him a champagne flute. He nods and heads down the stairs. He winds around the pathway, eying the dancers down below. He sets the champagne down on an empty table as he heads to the bar. Pulling up a stool, he sits at the bar, casually watching the long mirror behind the bartender.
"What'll it be, sir?" the bartender says.
"Whiskey. Neat," Robin says.
A deep, familiar voice speaks next to him, "You're favoring your shoulder."
Batman. Of course. Robin turns with a painful shrug. Batman— Bruce Wayne— sits on the next stool over, also wearing a black tux with a red tie. The most eligible billionaire in Gotham and his young ward back on the town. The bartender pours Robin's whiskey and places it in front of him. They don't ask for I.D at the Iceberg Lounge. He holds up his whiskey and Bruce holds one of his own. Same tux, same drink. Just like old times. Having been trained how to endure more drugs and poisons than you can imagine, one whiskey can't touch him. Even so, he wants to be sharp. He takes a sip, motions for another and lets the bartender take the near full whiskey away, placing a new one in front of him. A good trick to make the appearance of heavy drinking while staying completely sober.
He looks over at Bruce again. "Have to say, I kinda expected the heavy approach."
"If you expected it, they expected it. Don't tell me the extra muscle around here escaped your notice."
"About every fourth table, men with bulges in their jackets, women with heavy purses, people milling on the dance floor without dancing— shall I go on?"
Silence.
Robin keeps watching the mirror, pretending to drink. Bruce does the same. They are waiting. Waiting is always the hardest part of any mission. Stray thoughts of Raven won't leave him alone, giving him an uneasy ache in his stomach, and leaving an awful heat in his chest. He can't explain it, and hasn't given it enough thought to figure it out. He stares down into the amber liquid. It was something about her eyes, he thinks. She had this look… Things had been going so well, hadn't they? So why does the thought of their last conversation make his chest hot with dread? Something is wron-
A short, round, beak-nosed man passes by the bar. Behind him, walks five bodyguards.
Oswald Cobblepot— The Penguin.
Dick and Bruce each order one more, pretend to down it, then they stand up and walk after the Penguin. They only need two things: misdirection, and speed. Trailing Penguin at a safe distance, they maintain their tipsy facades. They wait for the posse to enter a narrow corridor, no doubt heading for Penguin's office. One of the guards turns toward them, a scowl on his face. He points and opens his mouth to speak-
The lights go black thanks to a nifty device Bruce cooked up. In the stillness of confusion before people start screaming, the Dynamic Duo act fast, putting on goggles that let them see in the dark. Dick pounces on the guard, taking him down and knocking him out with one blow. Bruce sprints past, plowing through two more without even slowing. Dick pulls three wing-dings and launches them, knocking down the last two standing guards and the Penguin himself. Two kicks from Bruce and Penguin's guards are all out for the count. All of this occurring in but a few seconds. Now, the pandemonium starts. People start screaming, acting out of panicked self-preservation, glass shatters, more screams. Misdirection is a powerful tool. Bruce picks Penguin up by the waist of his pants.
The scrawny pest squawks above the rioting crowd. "Unhand me, you-"
Bruce cuts off the Penguin's curse with a swift blow to the manhood. While dazed from the blow, they tie his hands, and gag him. Bruce throws him over his shoulder and they head for Penguin's private elevator. The great thing about restricted areas: you can carry protesting little cretins through them without people seeing you. Dick reactivates the power as they reach the elevator. Alarms start blaring, the lights come back on. Dick presses the button and the doors open. They step inside and Dick hits the button for the roof. They make their ascent in silence, the goggles doubling as masks to protect their identities.
The doors open and they step out into the cool night air. The moon shines bright behind an overcast sky, and the city lights glimmer all around. Bruce slams Penguin down near the edge of the roof, masking his voice.
"We know you had a hand in the Asylum breakout," Batman growls, then rips the gag free from Penguin's face, "the gala, and the attempt on Robin's life."
"I am an innocent business ma- AAAH!" Penguin screams as Batman stomps on his ankle.
"Wrong answer."
Penguin wheezes. "You have… No proof!"
"Do I look like the court of law? I don't need proof."
Penguin curses. Batman punches him again.
"We know you're Grundy's shot-caller," Robin says. "Who hired you to stage the breakout?"
"Talk!" Batman growls. "And I might not break your ankles."
An explosion sounds from within the building. Batman clenches his jaw and looks to Robin. That wasn't part of the plan.
Penguin smirks. "You have no idea what you stepped into. And without all your toys."
(******)
Raven
She floats down the hall toward the common room. This is the first she's left her room since she ran from Medical. She hopes it's late enough that people have started turning in, and she hopes not to see Robin. Happy voices reach her from down the hall.
So much for people turning in.
She prepares herself and floats into the room. Gavyn and Starfire sit at the counter with Beast Boy while Cyborg digs through the fridge. Raven breathes a sigh of relief that Robin isn't there. Though she shakes her head at the mess. Empty plates line every available surface of the kitchen, including parts of the floor.
Beast Boy turns his head. "Raven!" He grins ear to ear. "C'mon, join us!"
"Oh, yes!" Starfire says. "Please, join us, friend Raven!"
These people are way too happy. "I just came to get some tea," she deadpans.
Beast Boy gives her a mock-scowl, and Starfire deflates a bit. Carefully, Raven tries to navigate the kitchen to find her teapot.
Cyborg emerges from the fridge with a bottle of hot sauce. "Found it!" He beams and slams it down in front of Gavyn. "Try it!"
"Oh, yes!" Starfire says, the epitome of elation. "You must try it!"
Gavyn smirks and pours a hefty amount on whatever charred meat Cyborg had served him. Raven finally finds her teapot and starts filling it, watching the water as it slowly fills the pot.
"Are you sure Robin isn't avoiding me?" Gavyn says.
Raven's heart skips a beat at the mention of Robin. She curses herself, urging herself to remain in control, trying not to ponder what Gavyn meant, trying not to wonder where Robin is. The teapot starts overflowing, and she curses herself again, hastily shutting the water off.
"No way, man," Cyborg says. "Robin ain't like that."
Beast Boy gives Gavyn a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, dude. Trust us. He wouldn't have left except a mission came up-"
"He left on a mission!?" Raven says, trying to keep her voice in check.
The kitchen's occupants shrink together a tiny bit under her intense glare.
"Well," Beast Boy says timidly, "he talked to Batman, and-"
"He's in Gotham!?" Raven says.
They all nod timidly.
"And you let him go!? He's in no condition for a mission!" Raven says.
Cyborg looks away, rubbing his thumbs together. "Well, you see he ... uhh- he's kinda the leader, and he's mature enough to make his own decisions…" he trails off, eyes everywhere except Raven's face.
She shakes her head.
"Perhaps," Starfire cuts in, "if you had been here with us, you could have stopped him."
Raven turns her harsh gaze on the princess. Starfire holds steady, glaring right back. The others watch them in fearful silence.
"What's going on?" Speedy says from the doorway of the common room. "Is it too late to get some food?" He approaches them warily. "Everything okay? Did something happen to Robin?"
Was Raven the only one who didn't know what Robin was up to?
Gavyn clears his throat. "Not that we know of."
"Good," Speedy says. "Would hate to think of something happening to him."
Starfire raises her eyebrow just a little bit, then turns to her husband, giving him a smile.
"Look," Cyborg says, "Robin knows what he's doing, and he's with Batman."
Ever the peacemaker.
Raven finally nods and goes about making her tea in silence while the team tells Gavyn about past missions. Was she really angry at her friends? Or was she angry at Robin for leaving again?
Both?
Or was she really just angry at herself for not being around to stop him?
She puts two teabags in the pot of hot water, grabs her cup and heads for her room without telling her friends goodnight. Just as she reaches the edge of the common room, an alarm starts blaring. Cyborg runs to the tv screen.
"Looks like downtown," he says.
"Hey," Gavyn says. "Can we come too?"
Cyborg gives him a happy nod. "Titans. Go."
(******)
Robin
Batman stomps on Penguin's hand, earning a sharp moan. "Talk fast."
"You want to know who's attacking your friends?" Penguin asks. "Do you even know where they are right now?" He grins like a kid who just cleared out the cookie jar.
Just as Robin opens his mouth to speak, his comm goes off. An image of Cyborg appears on the screen, hunched over behind a brick wall.
"Calling all Titans," he says. "We need immediate help. Repeat: immediate help!" The comm fuzzes out, then comes back. "They came out of nowhere."
Beat Boy's voice shouts from somewhere near Cybrog: "There's too many- AGH!"
Cyborg fires off his cannons, filling the screen with blue light as he barks orders. "Send everyone! Send-"
A loud explosion drowns out his voice, then the screen goes black. Robin stands horrified, looking at Batman, both men knowing the truth. Leaving Penguin as a loose-end wasn't a mistake. They were using him as bait. And Robin was all-too-easily lured away from his friends. He looks down at the comm, trying to get the link back up, trying not to even think the worst.
Experience has taught me to be most cautious when it appears I'm getting what I want.
An old lesson Batman had taught him. An old lesson Robin failed this night-
Boom! A thunderclap explodes in the night.
Something smashes into him, taking his breath away, sending pain screaming throughout his battered body and knocking him to the ground. He blinks, trying to stay conscious. He hears Penguin laughing as the elevator doors open.
"Well, well," a new voice says. "Look what we have hear."
Robin knows the voice. Knows it all-too-well.
Deadshot.
One of the most deadly assassins in the world.
The man who shot Donna.
He strides out of the elevator, wearing his red jumpsuit. He laughs and lowers his arm, his gauntlet cannon aimed right at Robin's head.
"Say goodnight, bird-boy."
Author's Note
Helloooooooo, everybody! How is everyone? Part Nineteen! Did you ever think you'd see it? Did you ever think I'd write it? Sorry bout that. Honest. I wish I had a good excuse- at least- a better excuse than just 'life'. But oh well. Part nineteen is up, and I so hope you love it. Part twenty is underway, hoping to have it up for you very soon.
Please leave me a review. I need to know if I still have a grasp on these characters after so long of being outside their heads. And I *LOVE* hearing from you.
Special thank you to PrincessTrekkie for all kinds of encouragement, and to LimitlessDarkness for helping me to keep motivated to write this chapter.
My thanks to everyone who has read even a piece of this story can not be overstated- but I especially wish to thank my reviewers. You have no idea how encouraging your reviews are.
Thank you Arlecchina-Rosa, for the review! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you liked the characterization, and noticed my writing getting better as it went. Phew! I try hard to avoid the infodump, so thanks big time for that!
Thank you That one guy, for the reviews! "Tops some novels that they sell today"- that is just music to my ears, man.
Thank you JuneGrayson, for the review! Thanks so much. I tried to keep the pace up here as well, and I'm hoping the next few chapters can keep it up.
Thank you PrincessTrekkie, for the review! Phew! I was worried about where Part Eighteen took it, so thanks for that.
Thank you LimitlessDarkness, for the review! Glad you liked it.
Thank you, Chinaluv, for the review. You wanted more. Here it is.
And finally, thank you all who have followed/favorited- or just read it in any capacity. You are all awesome.
Well, that's it for Part Nineteen. I hope to see you all for Part Twenty.
Until next time, dear readers. I hope life finds you all well.
mojo