When Robin awoke the next morning, he was in the wrong room. Bolting upright in bed, he realized belatedly that the space was his room at Mount Justice. But that made no sense; they'd all fallen asleep in the Batplane on the way back to the cave, and after that there was nothing. How, he frowned, had he gotten here?

Noticing the bandages wrapped around his injured wrist and fingers, he judged that there had been an adult involved in his migration. More confused than ever, he climbed out from beneath the covers and started towards the door. A quick glance in the mirror told him that he had a mask on above his pajamas, and with that reassurance he stuck his head into the hall.

A quizzical red-topped face was looking out of the portal opposite his own. "...How'd we get here?" KF queried when he saw Robin. "Oh, hey, how's your arm?"

"It's okay. Kind of hurts, but whatever. Other than that, I don't know. All I can think of is Agent A, but..." But why would Alfred move all of them to Mount Justice? He, at least, should have been in his bed at home...

A yawn sounded as another door opened. "...What's going on?" Artemis asked sleepily. "I thought it was just going to be Conner and I here today."

"We don't know," Robin explained. "Do you remember anything after we fell asleep in the plane?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "But...oh, hey, Kaldur."

The Atlantean had appeared at the end of the hall while they'd been speaking, and now he stood looking at them with an unusually excited expression on his face. "I'm glad you're all awake. You should proceed to the lounge."

"Where are Conner and M'gann, though?" Robin frowned. "Are they already down there?"

"No. They are both still in their rooms. But I'll get them." Kaldur waved them towards the lounge. "Go. There is a surprise."

The other three blinked at one another. "A surprise?" Artemis repeated.

"A Christmas surprise," KF grinned. "You know that's going to be good. And...wait...I think I smell bacon! 'Scuse me." With that he vanished, leaving his door to close on its own.

"...Should we check it out?" Robin asked the girl.

"Might as well," she shrugged. "It can't be bad, right?"

"Not if Kaldur's smiling about it, no."

They both stopped cold on the threshold to the lounge. "...Whoa," Robin breathed. The gathering room had sported a decent enough tree and a few other holiday decorations the last time he'd seen it, but now it was decked from top to bottom with garlands and greenery. "This is amazing!"

"How...this wasn't like this last night!" Artemis exclaimed. "Who...what...?"

"We took a vote," Superman answered, "and decided that a party was a pretty good reward for saving Christmas."

"A party and presents," Flash pitched in. "It's not Christmas without presents."

"And food," KF added from where he sat behind a plate piled high with breakfast food and cookies. "...Lots and lots of...mmm...eggs..."

Staring around, Robin realized that all of the Young Justice mentors were present save Batman. "You did this all in one night?" he asked, trying to ignore his disappointment. "Wait...how long did we sleep?!"

"About twelve hours," a familiar gravelly tone answered from behind him. "...Long enough for Agent A to coordinate all of this. He'll be back with the last load of supplies shortly."

Robin spun around, joy flooding him. He wanted to throw himself at his mentor, whom he'd missed for days, but he restrained himself out of respect for Batman's sense of public propriety. "You're back," he grinned instead.

"I am. A little late, from the sound of things. But it seems that you handled things without me, so..."

There was a hint of melancholy in that trailing sentence, and Robin made a mental note to address it in private later on. At the moment, though, there was a party to attend. "Sure we did. And now we're going to celebrate." Grabbing hold of a night-black gauntlet, he tugged the man into the room with him. "C'mon, Batman," he urged. "Everyone's here and the Joker's in jail. If those aren't the makings of a perfect Christmas, then I don't know what is."

When everyone had eaten and drunk their fill, all of the presents had been torn into, and the story of the Joker's downfall had been told at least a half dozen times, the party began to break up. Robin was having so much fun that he was tempted to ask permission to spend the night at the mountain again, but he refrained. Batman was wearing the grimace that meant it was time to go home, and even Agent A seemed to be getting antsy. Besides, he he had a lot of catching up to do with his mentor once they were away from everyone else.

Once all their goodbyes had been said the trio stepped into the Zeta tube. "Man," the teen smiled when the Batcave had materialized in front of them. "...That was a great party. Thanks, Agent A."

"You're very welcome, Master Robin," the masked butler nodded. "You and your team more than deserved it, I'd say. Wouldn't you agree, Master Batman?"

"...You did well," Batman allowed. His hand landed heavily on Robin's shoulder, and he began to steer him towards the back of the room. "Now let's get changed. I've been wearing these clothes for six days straight, and I imagine you'd like a shower after last night, too."

"Yeah...a shower sounds great, actually."

"Then I'll see you both in the living room, hmm?" Agent A, now transformed back into Alfred, asked.

"Yes," Batman replied. "...The living room."

"For more Christmas?" Robin asked hopefully. The items that he had opened at the mountain had clearly been things intended for night work, and that meant that there was still a tree full of civilian goodies waiting upstairs. Surely he wouldn't be made to wait an extra day just because his Christmas Eve had been spent apprehending the Joker.

A rare chuckle sounded from beneath the cowl. "Yes, Robin. For more Christmas."

"Excellent!"

Despite his eagerness, he didn't race up the stairs once he'd showered and dressed. Instead he sat down on a bench and waited, listening to the water run on the other side of the wall as Bruce scrubbed off a week's worth of grime. He was just on the verge of nodding off when the flow stopped. Jerking upright, he shook himself, determined not to let his guardian see how tired he still was.

"...Dick?" The billionaire frowned as he came around the corner in his weekend clothes. "I thought you would have gone straight up to the living room."

Dick stood up and stepped forward. "I wanted to wait for you," he said quietly, resting his head on the man's shoulder. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him in carefully. "...I missed you."

"I missed you too, chum." The words breezed through his damp hair, making him shiver. "...Cold?"

"No." Nevertheless, he nestled closer. "...Bruce?"

"Hmm?"

"We...we did okay, didn't we? With the Joker?" He knew they had, but he wanted to hear the words spoken by the person whose opinion he valued most in the world.

The hands on his back tightened. "...Dick, from what I've heard things couldn't have gone any better if I'd been there myself."

There it was again, that edge of depression. It tainted the joy that wanted to well up in his stomach, and he frowned. "Then why do you sound upset?" he asked.

"Do I sound upset?"

"Yes. Well...sad is a better word, I guess. You sound sad."

A sigh was heaved. "You're just growing up on me, chum," Bruce murmured. "That makes me a little sad, even though I know it's a good thing. But it also makes me proud, and pride...pride is by far the dominant emotion. So forgive me if I sound a bit upset when you triumph, or," he gave an amused hmph, "if I laugh when you get excited about Christmas like you're nine years old again. It's not that you've done anything wrong; it's just that I'm trying to hold onto the past. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed. "But Bruce?"

"Mm?"

"I'm not going anywhere, you know. I'm still your Robin."

"I know, kiddo. Thank you." He paused. "Speaking of Robin...there's something he should know before we go upstairs. It's about last night."

Dick pulled back and studied his guardian's expression. "...It's bad, isn't it?" he guessed.

"It's not pleasant, but there's nothing you could have done about it. I just thought you might want to hear it from me instead of from the news."

"Did one of the hostages die?" He'd freed them as quickly as he could, but maybe it hadn't been fast enough...

"No. The hostages you and the team rescued are all recovering, according to the Commissioner." Bruce led him back to the bench as he spoke, then gestured for him to sit. "I didn't think anything of it until you were telling everyone what had happened in the castle and mentioned the Joker wanting you to play a game."

Dick narrowed his eyes. "Wait...is this about what was in the boxes he had the elves standing on?"

"...Yes." Bruce hesitated. "Maybe this should wait until after you've opened all of your presents."

"No," he refused. "...No, I want to know. What was in those boxes, Bruce? What was it he wanted me to put together?"

"He...he wanted you to put together Santa Claus, Dick."

"...Santa Claus?" It took him a moment, but once he recalled what the Joker had said when he was explaining the rules of the game everything clicked into place. "He...he told me that if I won he would take off his suit and give it back to its rightful owner," he whispered. "Bruce...he put a person in those presents, didn't he? He murdered the man who was playing Santa when the mall was attacked and put him into the boxes. Into...multiple boxes."

"Yeah, chum. He did."

Moaning, Dick slumped into the warm figure at his side. "...That poor guy," he lamented. "Did...did they at least find of all of him, for his family? The Joker said there was a fourth box that he'd give me at the end. It had the most important part, he told me. Did they find that, too?"

"Gordon said they found everything. Arms, legs...everything."

Dick couldn't keep his mind from doing grotesque calculations. Arms in one crate, legs in another, torso in the third...that left only one thing, and the Joker had mentioned that the fourth box was the smallest... "It was his head, wasn't it?"

"What?"

"The fourth box. It was his head."

"...Oh. Yes. It...it was his head."

I tried, he cried silently. I tried so hard to save them all. First the mall security guard, and now the mall Santa...and he said there were others, too...but I tried...what more could I have done? He shivered again, and the arm around his shoulders squeezed. "...Sorry."

"Hush. It's okay. You have every reason to shudder after something like that. But listen to me; that man was likely dead before you even knew the Joker was out of Arkham. There was nothing you could have done to save him or the others who were killed at the beginning of the siege. So instead of mourning the people you had no way of helping, do what you do best."

"What's that?" Dick asked, swiping at his cheeks.

Bruce caught him by the chin and turned his face until their eyes met. "Laugh in the face of horror," he said firmly, "and keep on smiling."

"...You mean I should go upstairs and try to have an extra happy day just to spite the Joker?"

"To spite the Joker and to honor those who should have been able to enjoy today themselves, yes. I don't think the ones who died last night would mind, chum, and I know that the people you saved wouldn't. So don't cry." The billionaire's thumbs rose and gently brushed away the tears still clinging to Dick's face. "...Not on Christmas. Please."

It took him a minute, but finally his sniffling ceased. Bruce was right; there was nothing he could have done for those who had been killed during the takeover. He felt bad that they'd lost their lives, but it was outside of his control. Furthermore, he'd be doing their memories and himself a disservice if he let the events of the previous night ruin his Christmas Day. Even worse, being upset today would hurt his guardian, and if there was one thing he refused to let the Joker do it was force him to wound the man holding him. "...You know what I want to do, Bruce?" he said slowly.

"What's that, kiddo?"

"I want to go upstairs, eat cookies, drink cocoa, and open presents. Screw the Joker; let's utterly slay this Christmas."

The billionaire gave a relieved-sounding laugh and squeezed him tight. "That's a damn good plan, Dicky," he complimented. "Lead the way."

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this year's countdown to Christmas! Thank you so much for reading, and double thanks to those of you who were so kind as to review. Be sure to look for next year's countdown, 'A Third Counting of Days', beginning on 1 December 2015.

In the meantime, 'The Silent Treatment' will resume on Tuesday, and there will be a Spark in the Dark New Year's special short featuring Bruce, Dick, Clark, and Wally on the 1st of the year (Thursday). Happy reading, and happy holidays!