Disclaimer: Characters and places belong to DCU unless otherwise stated. Plot belongs to MarkTwainTwo (hi!).

Note: Okay, so the last chapter was a little iffy. I think some characters got a little OOC... hmm... We'll see.

Without futher ado...


Damian liked silence. Some people might say that silence was scary, or uncomfortable, but in general, Damain thrived in silence. He was trained from birth in silence. His feet never made any noise against the ground- in fact, he would say that it was an effort to make noise if he tried. He sought clothes that were conducive to quiet movements. Father had confiscated the wearing of his League clothing (when he had first joined Father's household, he had thought it to be a test, but now he believed it to be just another inane rule created to make him forget the League's training. As if he could forget). So he made an effort to select the clothing most akin to it as possible. Black turtlenecks were the obvious choice, even if jeans were the more accepted form of clothing on one's lower body, especially in a climate like Gotham's.

When Damian first arrived in Gotham with his mother, he had also had the full intention of keeping his mouth shut as much as possible as well. He had no need for snappy comebacks in the League, although he thought up plenty of them in his head. Voicing anything except agreement or thoughtful questions came with great danger of punishment. Disrespecting Grandfather would get him killed. Besides, Damian loved the quiet intimidation he could create without opening his mouth. There was no need to put a stain of sound on a world that didn't need his comments (especially after the first few times he died, and he woke up from nightmares of screaming screaming screaming). Then he got to Gotham, and claimed his place in his Father's mansion, and everything changed. It was all so wrong. Punishments consisted of grounding- which was not, indeed, buring one underground to either find a way out or suffocate -and the occasional benching from patrol. The family members were adopted, but still treated as if they were worth more than Damian, and Pennyworth was a servant but Father deferred to him, almost. So, he let the snappish comments out to defend himself from the merciless changes to his environment. If he didn't understand something, out came the discrespect and comebacks. Let them see the illusion of thick walls he'd built up, not the broken rubble behind it.

So Damian moved quietly, and spoke loudly. He still preferred silence.

Though, maybe not this particular silence. This was the kind of silence Grandfather would inflict just before issuing a punishment. The disapproving silence. The pressuring-a-prisoner-into-talking silence.

And all of the Titans fixed this silence on Damian as Raven's portal closed behind his younger self.

All the same, Damian was not willing to break this silence either, because he was content not answering the questions he barely knew the answers to himself.

Unfortunately, Starfire broke it with a steely, "Explain, Robin. Now."


Starfire

"There is very little to explain." Robin crossed his arms. "My younger self obviously time-traveled here by the ability of some magic. I do not know what kind or why. I would say it could have been an accident, but I am not an idiot. Either way, I could not allow the timeline to be altered more than it already has, and acted accordingly."

"By ordering us around and masking and attacking a young boy?" Raven mirrored Robin's crossed arms. "A young boy who happens to be you from the past?"

"Wait, that means Robin just got ordered around!" Jon pumped his fist in the air and grinned. "Awesome!" Then the grin was replaced with a frown. "...You were pretty mean, though."

"It was the most efficient course of action. And the most believable," Robin said. Kori's brow furrowed. The most believable? He'd been outright hostile to his past self. Surely Batman hadn't recruited the boy when he was- what, seven? -so why would he believe an unfeeling series of orders over kindness?

And why had the boy, not Robin, the trained and violent vigilante, attacked first?

"Your name's Hafid?" Jaime spoke up, and Starfire was reminded of what Robin had said originally that caused the new arrival to stop so suddenly. Her eyes snapped back to Robin's lenses, and she wondered whether he would be distressed at the identity reveal. To her surprise, he didn't look remotely as affected as she'd thought he would be.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly. "It used to be. The name won't do you any good, though. Anyone who knows it would both kill and die to protect it."

He sounded so sure. Kill and die to protect it? Kori felt a chill go down her spine. That sounded a little too much like a threat.

"How do we know the kid-" ("Hafid," Jon whispered) "-yeah, how do we know Hafid isn't, like, planning our murders in wherever Raven sent him?" Garfield asked. "He looked pretty murder-y. And you're murder-y," he pointed at Robin, "and Hafid's mini-you, so he probably is murder-y. A murder-y child should not be left to his own murder-y devices."

Raven facepalmed. "Please stop saying the word 'murder-y'."

"Why? Are you going to turn murder-y and murder me?" Gar grinned, but Raven sent him a glare. The grin melted and he turned into a cat and retreated behind Kori, who sighed.

"Okay, Robin. Let's say we can keep your secrets- Hafid's secrets -in whatever box he and they came from. I hate suspecting a child of anything, and I do trust you and Nightwing, but we need some idea of what to do with him for the time being," she said.

Robin uncrossed his arms, and to everyone's surprise, just shrugged. "It does not matter. He will do anything I wish of him, and by extension, anything you wish of him as long as it does not go against my own commands." His hand dropped to the hilt of the knife at his side, and Starfire tensed slightly out of reflex from his early days of randomly attacking them, but he did nothing apart from grip it. Even through the lenses of his mask he wore a distant expression, and she had a suspicion that touching the knife hilt was an instinctual movement.

"You never do anything anyone tells you," Jon pointed out. "Why would he?"

Robin smirked, but there was no mirth. "That is for me to know and you to hopefully never find out. Look, just give him food at least once a day. If you want him to do anything else, specific instructions are best. Try not to be idiots and give information away." He turned and pushed through the door before they could question him further, but called over his shoulder, "If he does attack, tell him you're my allies."

Then he disappeared in the manner of all the Bats.

Superboy groaned and flopped onto a chair. "I'm still tired. It's very early in the morning. Is it too much to ask to just get one night of rest?"

"A whole night?" Raven said. "That's rather selfish of you." He gave her an incredulous look, but rolled his eyes when the corner of her mouth twitched in a telltale sign that she was kidding.

"No," Gar said, "It's rather shellfish of him." Then a green crab existed in the place where he used to be, and everyone groaned.