The sequel to Lab Rat, this is set three years after the epilogue from that story. For a better understanding of this story, the reader might want to refer to or read Lab Rat first. Also, this should probably be a crossover between Batman and Young Justice, but I wanted the story to be easily found by those who had read Lab Rat, so . . . This is the original YJ team from the beginning of season 1. This IS an AU, so if you notice Superboy has X-ray vision instead of infrared or that M'gann can pass through walls; just go with it and realize that they are, both of them, cooler in my version.

You will find that this particular story is kind of a two-parter all on its own. (2 in 1) There is definitely a division line between the first and the second part, and you'll recognize it without any help from me. Even so, the second part begins with chapter 32. It probably should have been its own story, but hindsight and all that jazz. Hope you enjoy . . .

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys . . . And Robin is probably thanking his lucky stars.

"T" for violence, horror, angst, and suicidal thoughts. This is not a lighthearted romp, but I believe I have ended this on a happy note. It is Robin-centric and contains plenty of Robin whump and DaddyBats. **No heroes were killed in the writing of this story, you'll be happy to note.**

No Warnings for this chapter.

Alfred paused inside of the gymnasium to admire the surprising strength and agility that his youngest charge displayed on the rings. Truly the boy was a world-class athlete. Such a shame that his night work prevented him from competing professionally . . . Alfred would have relished polishing the gold medals that Richard Grayson-Wayne would have won.

The butler smiled briefly, enjoying using the boy's full name even if only in his head. Although the adoption had only just gone through a month ago, Alfred felt it was long past due; five years past due, in fact. The picture of his two charges celebrating over a cake that he had baked especially for the occasion was gracing Master Bruce's desk at his office. A copy also sat in a place of honor in Master Dick's bedroom. The kind of changes wrought in their lives upon the entrance of this delightful child were astounding to say the least and had been long-sought after by the manor's majordomo.

Had he ever thought that bringing a traumatized young child into this gloomy abode a bad idea? Well, yes, he had. Alfred had argued long and hard against such madness, but as usual Master Bruce had been determined to do something for the boy who had suffered a fate so similar to his own. Alfred had never dreamed that the child was capable of banishing the heavy clouds of grief that had hung over the manor for so long, nor that the boy had had the ability to bring sunshine back into the tortured life of its haunted master.

But he had. And he had done so in a most prodigious manner.

Oh, Master Bruce was still driven; still dedicated to his crusade that drove him out every night to fight crime, to save the lives of the innocent, and to instill justice in this long-forsaken city. So much so that it hadn't taken but a few short weeks to draw one grief-stricken boy into his personal war.

But that wasn't being entirely fair and Alfred prided himself on his fairness. Young Richard had craved justice with the same fervor as his guardian; to the point that he would sneak out of the manor in order to find it. Both he and Master Bruce had hoped to give the child another path than the one that had led to the creation of the Batman. Instead, in order to save the child's life from the filth that roamed the streets at night, Batman had taken the boy into his confidence and Robin, the Boy Wonder had been born.

The same path . . . Alfred mused. It was hardly that. That bright, optimistic child hadn't been the brooder his mentor had been and, quite frankly, still was truth be told. Robin wouldn't fall prey to the darkness that had once threatened to consume the Batman's soul. And, thankfully, now it seemed that neither would Master Bruce.

Ah, the boy must have seen me, Alfred thought, as he watched Master Dick perform a spectacular dismount. He nailed the landing. All tens, and the crowd goes wild . . . The butler applauded. The boy turned to face him, beaming. He waved and bowed with a flourish that would have made any Shakespearean actor quite proud.

"Very impressive, Master Dick," he told him. "Simply amazing, in fact!"

Grinning, the boy grabbed his towel and his water bottle. Wiping his face as he walked toward the elder man, Dick laughed; delighted with the praise. "It was a good dismount," he admitted. "Is it time to wash up for dinner already?"

"Dinner will need to be eaten on the run, I'm afraid, young sir," Alfred said. "I believe the mountain was mentioned."

"You mean Mount Justice! So the team has a mission," Master Dick asked excitedly.

"It would appear so."

The boy whooped; all energy despite the exhausting workout. "Where's Dad? Is he in the Batcave," he asked, already headed in the direction of the secret entrance.

Another smile momentarily graced his normally stoic, very proper English mien; something that would happen whenever the boy forgot himself and let slip the unofficial title that he had gifted Master Bruce with several years ago. Most of the time, the boy called his recently adopted father by his Christian name, but during times of stress, injury or illness, or excitement as was currently the case, the young master would inadvertently drop the term "Dad" into his conversation. It pleased the elderly retainer to no end. And he suspected it did the same for Master Bruce.

"I believe so, yes," Alfred told him even as the boy disappeared around the corner.

Alfred's smile slid off of his face. He knew that the boy was in for a bitter disappointment, although he had not lied. The team did indeed have a mission awaiting them. Unfortunately, Robin did not. Worse yet, was the fact that the reason for Master Robin's benching was one of ongoing contention between Batman and the boy; the only serious disagreement that has repeatedly plagued the Dynamic Duo over the past three years.

At eleven and twelve respectively, Robin had not done more than pout and stomp his foot at what he felt was a breach of trust. But at thirteen, full of newly emerging hormones and fresh teenage angst, Robin was now a member of a burgeoning and successful team of his own. Alfred highly doubted that the boy would let the matter go so easily this time and he dreaded the epic row that was destined to occur in short order.

Robin rushed out of the changing room, skidding to a stop by the Bat-computer. Bruce had already changed, but the cowl was back. He was typing fast and had several screens up simultaneously. Robin narrowed his eyes as he attempted to pull information from the displays and come up with a logical conclusion. His brows pulled together as he realized that he hadn't seen any of this information before now.

"From what case file did this come," he asked, curious.

There were a couple of screens with different security footage on them. One was of the docks, and showed at least two large ships in the image. The other showed numerous dockworkers milling around, going about their jobs in front of a warehouse. The number on the warehouse was 113.

He saw what he recognized as digital copies of shipping manifests that Robin assumed came from the ships in the footage. Another screen had a display of a chemical compound that looked familiar, but the Boy Wonder couldn't quite place it . . . Yet, he thought smugly. The last screen was a police report dated from two weeks ago.

What? Robin wondered why he hadn't seen or heard tell of it before now when it obviously piqued the interest of the Batman. He started reading . . .

Arkham Asylum. Break out. Five guards injured; two killed . . . Who, Robin wondered; his eyes skipping to where he knew he would find the answer. Joker entered his mind first, but then, there it was . . . His eyes widened and his breath caught.

Scarecrow!

The entire screen shut down; went blank. But it was too late. Robin had managed to scan enough from it in the thirty seconds it took Bruce to hear his question and the time it took the computer to shut its monitors off. That Robin had managed to do that much was a testament to the intensity of Bruce's focus. Normally, he would have done this before Robin had exited the changing room.

Bruce turned in his chair, his gaze sweeping over his son. He grabbed his cowl and pulled it over his face; changing him from Dick's new father and into Robin's partner and mentor is seconds.

"You ready to go," Batman asked, getting up and moving across the cave.

"Scarecrow escaped two weeks ago and I'm only hearing about it now?" Robin followed.

"You wouldn't have heard about it at all if I had my way," Batman muttered.

"Yeah, I noticed that you were concentrating pretty hard," Robin said, anger edging into his voice. "I hope you didn't lose any information when you shut down so quickly."

"It was only the monitors," he said, briskly.

"Why are you doing this? It has been three years . . ." Robin asked in frustration.

Batman swung around so hard and fast that his cape swirled dramatically around him. Only excellent reflexes kept Robin from plowing into the bat splayed across the man's breastplate.

"You know why," he growled. "Enough. End of discussion. It's time to go to the mountain."

Robin's mouth tightened in aggravation. Batman wouldn't even discuss it with him, as usual. Shut down the monitors, and then shut down the conversation . . . I'm not ten anymore, he wanted to shout, but that would just make him sound like he was ten and hurt his argument.

So, to keep me out of it, Batman is sending the team on a mission, Robin huffed inside his head. But it was better than being forced to stay home and in his room. The last two times Scarecrow escaped, Batman had changed the security code to the Batcave entrance. When he was eleven, it had worked. When he had turned twelve, it had taken him two days to break the code, but by then Batman had rounded the villain up and was delivering him to Arkham.

He was thirteen now, however. His hacking skills were over the top. With the computer in his glove, he could very likely hack into any system on the planet, including Batman's security. Another very good reason to get me out of the house and out of Gotham, he thought. Of course, it wouldn't do much good because the computer system at Mount Justice was linked to the Batcave's. Unless Batman could keep him busy, Robin would be able to get into any digital file he had stored there.

There was a bag sitting by the zeta tube. How long did Batman plan for him to be gone anyway? A plate was sitting on the table nearby with sandwiches on it. Robin picked up the sandwiches and stuffed them into the duffel bag and hitched the thing up on one shoulder. At least, he knew the score going in.

Batman: 1

Robin: 0

It wouldn't stay like that if he had any say about it . . . And he did. Scarecrow had almost killed him three years ago; he could kill him still . . . It was time for a little payback: Robin-style!

Yes, this is technically a crossover between Batman and Young Justice, but I wanted everyone who read the first story to be able to find this one easily.

REACTIONS? Because I really want to know what you think . . . You guys are such a help and inspiration to me. So, let me hear from you!

Also, a really Big, HUGE THANK YOU to Katherine, Triscribe, and TheImaginativeFox for all your help.