Smoke billowed over them in a tsunami of chalky white shadows, and Robin pressed a hand over his mouth as he watched the mess swallow up his teammates. His staff weighed heavily in his other hand, his nerves sending it flickering about in the pale soup around him. It was just as—to be honest, probably more so—likely to hit one of his companions as it was their adversary, but…

It had been four months, and Jump City had been…silent. Abnormally so. And then…

Raven's shades flashed stark figures in the shroud around him, her voice rising in anger as she shouted at Cyborg. Robin let out a slow breath, dropped his hand from his mouth. If Raven was arguing that vehemently with Cyborg, the stuff was perfectly breathable.

"Robin."

It was a hoarse, ragged sound, barely audible and little more than a whisper. Robin's eyes snapped away from the illuminated figures of his friends, and a solid weight fell into him. He stepped back, boots slipping on the slick, dewy metal beneath him, and they plunged out of the smoke together.

Robin was intimately familiar with the mechanics of falling, and a cold feeling settled in his gut as he realized the other's weight was too slight to do anything more than minutely affect his speed. Red X was nothing but skin and bones.

His hand reached out, hooked around a pipe. Again, the drag was little more than he would have felt if he'd been alone.

The punch still hurt like a bitch.

He reflexively released the pipe, and they fell again. In the precious seconds before he could recover enough to stop his descent, he slammed into something hard—he knew what wood felt like, especially when it splintered and cracked beneath him—and tumbled, wheezing as the breath was knocked from his lungs, deeper into the building.

It wasn't, like he'd assumed, a miracle they'd ended up in an abandoned part of Jump City. Red X's presence proved that abundantly, in the way he'd distracted the others and brought him here for—for what? A fight? He doubted that. Not with the way things had gone so far, not with the way Red X just…lay there, breathing as if he'd been running for ages, after they'd landed.

"Why the fuck are you still here?"

"You're on top of me."

Robin caught Red X's wrist as he sat up, stomach twisting when he realized just how weak Red X truly was—he couldn't even pull free of him.

"You fucking dumbass—why aren't you in hiding!?" There was an intensity, a bone-deep panic and wide-eyed fear in Red X's voice that chilled Robin to the bone.

"What are you talking about?"

He let out a hiss, sagged in Robin's grip. His forehead dropped, rested against the Titan's collarbone, and Robin could feel the press of his breath even through his clothes.

His mask must have been cracked—broken, maybe? It was too dark to see anything beyond an inky silhouette where Red X was, but…Robin had built that suit himself. He knew what it was made of—if Red X had been wearing it when it had gotten broken…something with that much force should have killed him.

A frigid coil of dread unfurled in his stomach.

"Are you alright?"

"You fucking—don't—are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Who are they fighting?" Robin asked, voice sharper. Red X was terrified, desperate, and he didn't know why, but this threat—it wasn't an idle speculation. Especially if the thief was that panicked over it.

"J—They owe me. They're fine, but—why the fuck are you still here?!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Raven did the same thing, if she was angry—talked in cycles without explaining anything. Robin knew full well not to get angry back, to coax the answers out of her. He wasn't angry now—he was terrified, his fear growing the longer Red X refused to speak clearly. Still, applying that to Red X should have been harder than it was.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? What you started? The Brotherhood—you fucking bastard, you think they'd let you walk away from that?!"

"The Brotherhood's gone. Has been since—"

He couldn't quite catch Red X's other hand in time—he was expecting a punch, not a slap—and the sound echoed painfully in the dark.

"Use your fucking brain, Boy Wonder. You were a tool. Once they had all the big boy's pets, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted, and none of those assholes would do a thing, because the Brotherhood would have had you. And you fucking—you fucking let them live!"

His words stabbed hard, deep. It wasn't the first time he'd been told he'd made a mistake, in showing mercy.

But, fuck, he hadn't saved everyone there. Some of the Titans had been pretty damn clear they were going to get their revenge, whether he sanctioned it or not. And after what had been done to some of them—

But fuck it all if he was going to let the Titans be anything like—

"I'm not a murderer." The words fell, numb, from his lips. Red X leaned closer, the chill of his mask brushing Robin's cheek.

"And they're going to die because of it." The words were hissed out, dripping with venom, and Robin closed his eyes.

"A bunch of snot-nosed brats crash your base and fucking destroy your plans. You gonna let them live long? You made it personal, and you return home like nothing happened? You give them time—four fucking months, you stupid piece of shit—and broadcast your fucking location like a fucking lighthouse and—" Red X's voice caught, his fury stumbling and tripping to a halt as he replaced his head against Robin's shoulder with a deliberate slowness.

"Even if you thought that wouldn't happen, aren't you willing to protect them?" And he sounded young, tired, exhausted. A boom shook the building above them, sent dust raining down atop their heads and a sliver of dull moonlight spooling towards the floor. Shapes flickered across the light, high above, and Robin felt his heart seize.

They were up there, fighting. His teammates.

"I'd…"

"Being willing to die isn't enough, Robin."

The silence that swallowed them was heavy and thick, hard in his throat.

"You sound like him."

Fingers brushed against his cheek, as Red X again lifted himself up into a sitting position. Bare skin against his flesh, Robin realized, and his eyes widened as Red X pressed a thumb to the place where his mask met his skin, very gently removing it.

He'd known that the thief had known for a while now. Red X was subtle in ways Robin could barely fathom, but Robin had connections, stale as they were, and Alfred had let him know when questions had been asked in Gotham.

"You can't even keep your identity a secret, Grayson." Reproach, maybe. Robin couldn't be sure.

It was strange, to see the world without his mask. The light flickered, casting sharp illumination onto Red X's face, and Robin saw the extent of the damage. Pale skin, an ancient ivory scar tracing a thin line above his jaw line, thick locks of dark hair all peeked out at him.

Washed out, faded of color as the light passed. But still clearer, etched like crystal into his memory.

"Why did you come back?"

The implication was clear. Robin knew he'd left, had tracked his progress with a constant, intent eye. The last crime Robin had managed to link him to had been in Africa. Before that, he'd been in Russia. Touring the world, leaving a wake of impossible robberies behind him.

Red X lifted a hand again, not the one holding Robin's mask, and laid it on Robin's cheek. He could feel the fibers of his glove, the scratch of dried blood. Something he was familiar with.

He felt faint, almost. Like it wasn't really happening. But just for a moment.

"You owe me, you little bastard."

Red X dropped against him again, and Robin finally lifted an arm to steady the thief. Rather than meeting his side, however, Robin's hand passed impossibly far before meeting resistance.

Robin didn't even need to hear his hiss of pain to know.

"You're—"

"Yeah." He swallowed, hard.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" A smile graced Red X's mouth, more of a snarl when Robin dropped one of Cyborg's overcomplicated flashlight spheres onto the ground beside him and activated it. The light was blinding, but it illuminated everything around them clearly.

"Like I said, you owe me."

The wound was huge. It looked like most of his stomach was missing from just before his spine on outwards on the right side—Robin couldn't understand why he was even still alive. But it had been cauterized, the entirety of it. Maybe a laser had caused it—something that would produce intense heat, in any case.

"Why—"

"Not as hush-hush as you think. That race? They know I helped you."

Red X didn't elaborate. Robin didn't need him too.

"How are you still—"

"Told you. They owe me." His voice was softer, body more relaxed now. Robin grabbed his arm, fingers digging painfully into the material of the suit.

"You can't sleep."

"Can't go to the hospital either, Boy Wonder."

It wasn't a request, or a plea. He wasn't even asking.

"You rely too much on other's goodwill." Robin whispered, and they were both fools.

Too weak, too trusting. Bruce had always warned him of that. He'd wanted his son to be stronger than he was, stronger than Gotham.

Robin had run instead. To Jump City, where things were calm and safe and even when they got bad, they were never quite so horrible as the past. To where his biggest concern was stopping fledgling villains from causing too much property damage and keeping his teammates from going for each other's throats.

So he'd known from the start, when Slade had shown up and later the Brotherhood, that it was his fault. Gotham left that sort of mark on its people, black and bloody and festering. And he couldn't run from something so soul-deep.

"I didn't think I'd make it in time." He whispered in response, and a hot sort of relief crashed over Robin, at the somberness in his tone and the steadiness in his hands when the thief handed him Cyborg's flashlight.

Robin didn't respond. He put the flashlight away, and pulled out his communicator. Red X eyed him curiously, not warily, like he should have been. He hurtled it into the darkness around them.

"Will you be fine if-?"

"I've made it this far."

The sounds of fighting had long since passed over their heads. When the fight was over, the Titans would look for him. Track his communicator there, and continue searching.

It gave them time. Robin knew instinctually that the thief wouldn't want the others to know about this, and Robin meant to honor that.

Red X looped his arms over Robin's neck, let out a dry, raspy laugh.

"How are you still breathing?"

"Jinx." Robin understood immediately, and shot the thief a glare.

"…You—fuck, Cyborg is going to murder you."

"Watch your tongue, Boy Wonder."

Robin scowled at him, but rappelled up to the hole they'd fallen down from. Red X was silent on the way down from there to the street, and while they waited for Robin's cycle to arrive—Cyborg had been able to replicate and improve upon Bruce's technology years ago, something Robin had taken full advantage of. It came screeching down the alley in minutes, slowing to a halt in front of them.

Robin pretended not to notice how Red X flinched against him at the sound.

Once the thief was situated in front of him, he flinched again when Robin swept a purple cloak over him, entirely obscuring his features.

"What—"

"Raven keeps an extra cloak on it, just in case. We're trying to be discreet, aren't we?"

"…Oh, fuck me."

But he hunched over, pressed his back tight against Robin and only elbowed him once when he laughed.

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

Red X looked so very small in the infirmary bed that it gave Robin chills.

He was emaciated, gaunt and hollow and riddled with wounds. His chest barely moved as he breathed, one arm splayed out across the mattress and the other resting across his forehead, keeping his shattered mask in place.

Robin's mask was still clutched in his hand. His clothing lay in a charred, bloody pile at the foot of the bed.

"I…"

"I know you've got some shit up here that can heal me. I've seen you shatter bones beyond repair and be roof-jumping the next day."

"No."

His voice came out a little harsher than he'd intended it to.

"I—No. That—"

"Don't lie to me, Grayson." The use of his last name was not in any way meant to be a warning, and Robin knew that. But the wound was still there, a husky sort of threat chasing the tone of his voice.

"…I didn't mean it like that. That stuff isn't….If I'd known what it'd do to me, I wouldn't have let him use it on me."

"Which one?" God, that made him flinch. He hated that, how the mention of either of them could scare him so badly.

"Both." It came out a shaky whisper.

"….Ah." And there was sympathy in his voice, sorrow, understanding. Robin swallowed, hard, and unclenched his fists.

"Anything that'd interfere with my, ah…profession?"

"Light way of putting it." Robin murmured, and opened a cabinet. He withdrew the supplies he'd need, and some he prayed he won't.

Faith was for the weak, Bruce had told him once. Only you could change the outcome of a situation.

"Other ways are just too judgmental, y'know?" And damn it all, Red X's smile was audible.

"…It won't cripple you. It just…if you ever wanted to start a family or…"

"…Is that it?"

"No."

"Is that the worst of it?"

"If you ever get hurt again, you will have to come here. This stuff—your body won't be able to heal on its own. It'll become dependent on it."

Silence fell over them, and Robin set the things he'd gathered out on the table beside Red X's bed as the thief let out a slow breath.

"And…you'd…"

"I'll leave my window unlocked."

His shock was palpable.

"You can't—fucking seriously? Robin, there is a shit ton of people after your fucking head, and—"

"Then you'll have to stay. But I won't let you die. Now or later."

He lay there, frozen, and Robin was still as well. They were running out of time, but this was not time wasted. And they both knew it.

"…They'll notice me."

"Raven will."

"Not the others?"

"It isn't that hard. To…they aren't very observant here."

"You talk like you don't. Love them, I mean."

Robin shook his head once, sharply.

"Of course I love them. We all have secrets, though, and we can all get around each other if the need arises. We just know we'd never do anything that would endanger the others. We trust each other."

Red X's gaze was heavy, and Robin refused to meet it. He grabbed a needle instead, and set to work. The thief was silent throughout, while Robin took samples of everything he'd need, injected a painkiller, hooked up an IV, cleaned him up as best he could.

It took a quarter of an hour to calibrate the serum to Red X's body, another to make sure it was entirely stable.

"We can try something else, if you don't—"

"No. Go for it." His voice was weak, little more than a whisper. They had been mostly silent while they had waited, Robin shaking him gently every so often to make sure he was awake.

And Robin nodded once, twice to reassure himself, and injected the serum.

The screaming was unbearable.

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

It was horrifying, to watch the hole in his side close up. Blood started to flow as burnt tissue regenerated itself, and continued to seep into the blankets, sheets, mattress, to drain in rivulets down his arm, his wrist, his palm, his fingers and the mask clutched there, to pool beneath it on the ground. Ivory nubs extended outward, exposed to the cold air of the infirmary as flesh bubbled and crawled along the shaft, as pulsating organs grew and inflated beneath them.

The other wounds peppering his body were much easier to watch, but they would most likely heal without so much as a scar left behind. Robin had to watch his side heal, to make sure that the process went smoothly. The serum had never been tried on such a massive injury before, and he was worried, especially with how slow the process was. He had been sitting there three hours when a display went off, alerting him, as he'd requested, to the entrance of the other Titans.

Cyborg would check the security system first, realize Robin had entered. They'd all come to the infirmary if he didn't do anything about it.

He stood, moved to the only video screen that didn't show the bed Red X lay on, and activated it.

"Raven? Can you come up here?"

"Robin! Where have you been?! Your communicator—"

"Sorry. I was in a rush. I got a call from an old friend that couldn't wait, and I dropped it on my way out." His words sounded hollow in his own ears, but Starfire bought it immediately. Beast Boy was already heading into the kitchen, waving a hand over his shoulder dismissively. Cyborg scowled at him, anger flashing across his face. Raven's gaze was expressionless

They, at least, knew it wasn't like Robin to be so careless.

"We were in the middle of a fight, man! What's so important that—"

"Are you hurt?" Raven interrupted. Cyborg shot her a look, but she slid in front of him effortlessly.

"No. I just need your help with something. Shouldn't take long."

"I'll be right up."

Cyborg's gaze was still suspicious, mouth twisted into a hard frown, when Robin closed the communication line.

Cyborg would find out. He'd go through the Tower's systems, see Red X lying on the bed. But he wouldn't say a word to the others—though Robin, most definitely. But he'd be trustworthy. He always was.

He felt the familiar chill of Raven's magic behind him, heard the soft click of her heel against the linoleum. He turned his head, studying her curiously, but she hadn't noticed Red X. Instead she walked up to him, touched his temple with one pale, cold hand.

"Where's your mask?" Her eyes were darker than usual. Something had upset her, recently if he had to guess.

"The bed." Her gaze drifted past his head, and she let out a noise of disgust.

"Of course. Is he dead?" She asked, striding towards the thief.

"N—No! He's just—"

"—Injured." Raven finished. He nodded, following her.

"This one of those things we don't tell the kids?" She asked, looking up at him. Her gaze was unwavering, even when he scowled at her.

She had always referred to Beast Boy and Starfire as 'the kids'. And Robin knew that, when she wasn't talking to him, he was lumped in as well. Cyborg was the only person she seemed to truly believe could handle himself. It didn't mean she didn't respect them—it just meant she wanted to keep whomever she was calling 'the kids' safe. Protected.

His heart ached at the thought.

"The Brotherhood did this to him."

That, at least, caught her by surprise.

"What? They're gone, Robin. I—" Her mouth snapped shut with a click, sudden wariness flickering across her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"….It's my fault." He hadn't meant to speak. Didn't realize he had until she drew him into a hug.

She'd known for a long time just how royally fucked up he was. She'd been in his head, in his soul, and he'd been so fucking terrified then to look at her, to see her reaction, after that mess.

She'd been…fine with it. She'd understood. Showed him just how royally fucked up she was. So when things got hard and he couldn't handle the blood any longer, he went to her. When Bruce had come into town, had insisted on seeing him, she was the one he'd brought with him.

And, honestly, thank god he had.

"Why?"

"He let them live." And as dry and raspy as Red X's voice was, as crackling as it was with pain and discomfort and anger and exhaustion, there was a gentleness to it too. He didn't pull away, and neither did she, but she turned her head to face Red X, her hair brushing his sharply.

"No. Only about two-thirds of them made it out of there alive."

"That's fucking wonderful. You fucked them over, pissed them off, and killed their friends. That makes the situation so much better." Robin pulled away from Raven, looked at the thief whose eyes refused to leave him.

"So what'd they want with a little stick like you?"

"Him."

Raven's eyes widened for half an instant, though she masked her surprise well.

"How are you still breathing? Not now, with the shit Robin dosed you up on, but beforehand." The subject change didn't go unnoticed, but Red X was in no shape to argue with her over it. Robin moved around Raven, resuming his vigil at the thief's side.

And it was getting better. Still deformed, shattered, broken, but better. Still pumping out blood. The only reason he hadn't died was because of the serum, replenishing his body's supplies as quickly—if not faster—as they ran out.

"…Had a…contact. Not everyone there wants to be there. Some were forced." There was an obvious deliberateness, a provocation, in Red X's words. In his voice.

Robin could feel the sudden coldness radiating from Raven, could damn near feel her suspicion, slow and rising with her anger. She held out a hand, fingers splayed above Red X's body, eyes already tinged red.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"

Red X's body glowed black, purple, white, blue, pink. A rainbow of hues flashing and interlocking in the shape of a body, ghostly organs moving not-quite in-sync with those still growing, melded perfectly with his flesh. Magic, he realized. Raven's, Jinx's, something else.

She shifted in the blink of an eye, the colors vanishing, her magic swirling around her in an inferno.

"Malchior!"

She didn't roar, she didn't scream. The word was hissed, spat out from behind clenched teeth and tears.

And then she was gone.

Oh.

"…She knows him?"

"…She's going to destroy him." Robin whispered, and he couldn't help a raw sort of laugh from escaping his lips as he sank down into the chair beside him.

"Not kill him?"

"No. Raven loves him too much for that."

"Not reassuring." The thief snapped, and Robin felt a ghost of a smile cross his lips. She'd never truly recovered from Malchior's betrayal. It had broken her heart, in more ways than one. Trapping him in his old prison, binding him with her own magic—that revenge had helped her, somewhat. But she'd never gotten rid of the book, and Robin had known that Raven couldn't let him go.

"It looks like it's working fine. The serum."

"…Yeah. I hope so."

"This fucking hurts. How can you stand it, when it keeps on happening?"

"…Necessity. I never…I never had a choice in the matter. B—Batman had…has some enemies that make everything here seem like nothing. I got careless, and…He made that decision for me. My body got used to it, and…" He trailed off, shrugging. Red X's gaze met his, sharp, knowing.

"…Thank you, Grayson. For…all of this."

Robin shook his head, slumped forward in his chair.

"I don't—"

"You do. Deserve to be thanked."

"I let them live."

Chilled, bloody fingers closed around his wrist, and Robin lifted his head.

"….Yes. Of course you did. You're weak like that, Robin, and you always will be." His voice was soft, kind.

"But you're still a good person. Or trying to be. I don't see much of a difference. And I still want to thank you for that."

"It's—"

"Your fault. Yeah." As the thief spoke, he sat up. Robin let out a noise, eyes widening as he jumped to his feet, trying to push the thief back down.

"You're—"

"Look, if my wound's not contaminated by now this isn't gonna do shit for it, alright? Stop interrupting me." Red X slapped his hands away as he spoke, stubbornly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Robin backed off, scowling as the thief promptly swayed and fell back, face paling rapidly and jaw tightening in pain.

"You can't even sit up, Red X. Don't try to get up."

"Wasn't. Gimme a minute, asshole."

His movements had agitated the wound, and blood was pouring out at an alarming rate. The serum might have replenished his body's resources, but he couldn't take much more of it.

Robin started prepping the necessary equipment, anxious as Red X's gaze tracked him.

"You're looking at the problem wrong, Boy Wonder."

"I can't—I can't do that again. Not…No."

"…You're pathetic."

Robin swallowed hard, placed everything he'd gathered down deliberately on the table beside Red X's bed. The thief was sitting up again, body ramrod straight as he tried to keep from any sort of telltale swaying.

"…Do you know what that did to him? And I had to watch that. See what it was doing to me, too. I won't put them through it." He worked as he spoke, voice terse, hands trembling only slightly. The thief lifted a hand, hooked his fingers around the back of Robin's neck and drew him close, until his breath tickled his ear, his throat.

"Will you stop getting so fucking defensive? I'm trying to talk, damn it!"

"I—"

"You're pathetic. And it is your fault. And you will get them killed if you keep acting like this. So listen." Red X's grip slipped, and he fell back again. Robin stood, frozen, and stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before jolting himself into action, tending to Red X's wounds and prepping a blood bag for transfusion.

"I'll kill them for you. Let you know when they're coming. And you're gonna repair my suit, give me everything I need to power that shit up. And if I ask for your help you better fucking give it. And not a word about what I do in the meantime." The last was an afterthought, the thief realizing then what Robin was and the extent of what he was asking.

"…I don't want you dead, Grayson. Don't know what I'd do if you did."

Neither of them spoke for a while after that. Red X let Robin treat him, hook him up to a number of machines, and lay down.

"…What do you even do?" Robin hadn't meant to ask. Red X had never asked him about his business, and he'd never asked the thief about his. Red X had asked him not to. But it slipped out before he realized he was speaking, and the thief's half-smile made it clear he knew. The shattered remnants of his mask made him look spectral, ghastly, with the black against his still-too-pale skin.

"Answer for an answer?"

"…Sure." His grin widened, and Robin eyed him uncertainly. He might, he realized, regret agreeing to it.

"People hire me to get shit. I take things that gain my interest. I like the challenge. My turn?" Robin nodded slowly. He wasn't nervous about telling Red X the truth. The look in the thief's eyes, however, was another matter entirely.

"You ever have a normal life? Like, what they do?" The thief jerked his head towards the window, not the door. Something inside Robin loosened, relaxed.

"…No."

"Figured. Me neither."

"…Careful. You might let too much slip." And Robin's voice was teasing, just barely. The thief's eyes closed, a smile on his lips, and he drew in another breath to speak.

The door slid open, and Robin stood immediately, jolting to his feet in surprise.

Cyborg strode in. His gaze was frigid, colder than Robin had ever seen it before. His gaze focused on Red X, wounded and nestled into a basket of wires and tubes. Then to Robin.

"Where's Raven?"

"Visiting an old friend." If ever there was a tone so clearly mocking, so clearly confrontational, it was the thief's.

"She's fine. Red X pissed her off and she left." Robin interrupted, shooting a warning glance at the thief.

"So you just brought this criminal into the tower? Are you insane?" Despite his obvious anger, Cyborg's voice was dangerously calm.

Robin grabbed his arm when Cyborg strode up to him, a hulking monolith of circuitry and flesh.

"He is lying in a fucking lake of his own blood right now because of us. He probably saved our fucking lives, and risked ending his to get here. You can be angry with me, but don't you dare—don't bother him."

Cyborg went still. Robin's voice had faltered, near the end. He didn't want to insult or anger the Titan—Cyborg wouldn't hurt Red X, not when he was so injured, and insinuating he would would. But he still intended to keep Red X safe.

"So tonight—"

"Distraction." The thief was being hostile, difficult. On purpose—he'd been perfectly fine before Cyborg had shown up. Before Raven, too.

"Fucking sedate him, Robin, or I will."

"It'll interfere with the serum."

"..You better start explaining."

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

Starfire and Beast Boy were sitting at the table, Beast Boy's eyes narrowed. Starfire had her hands folded in her lap, not a word escaping her. She hadn't said much since Robin had started speaking. Cyborg had his eyes closed, jaw tense, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the wall behind him. Robin was sitting in a chair he'd pulled away from the table.

He felt almost as if he were being questioned, though no one had asked anything of him. He tried to focus on his breathing, but it didn't help as much as it usually did.

"…So we're in danger." Beast Boy finally broke the silence.

"Where is Raven?" Starfire's gaze was uncertain, flickering from Beast Boy to Robin to her hands, folded on her lap.

"Malchior helped Red X escape. She wanted to…talk." Cyborg's voice was nowhere near as angry as it had been before. Robin swallowed, his relief making his head swim. He had no idea what he'd have done if Cyborg would have fought him on the matter.

"So what's the plan? I mean, besides wait for Rae? If they're—"

"Notify all Titans. The League too, but I'll do that. And then we go into secure mode."

"Meaning what? Those assholes will still be out there attacking people. Are we supposed to just sit back and let that slide?" Beast Boy sat up as he spoke, hands clenched around the rim of the table. Robin sat forward, opened his mouth to speak, but Beast Boy cut him off.

"This is our problem, Robin, not the League's. We can't—"

"This is the League's problem. If Red X's information is accurate, this was all just a ploy to fuck with them. They didn't expect us to fight back." Cyborg snapped.

"How do we know Red X is telling the truth? Can he not be lying? He is not an ally, Robin." Starfire's voice was quiet, but there was a conviction in her eyes that surprised Robin. She'd never liked the thief but…she'd never even looked at Terra that way.

"He is."

Raven's voice surprised them all. Robin's head snapped around, and his eyes widened. Raven stood in the doorway, holding a baby. Two children clutched her cape, and a giant teddy bear that was quite possibly the most horrifying thing he'd ever seen loomed over her shoulder. There was a book tucked under Raven's arm, glittering a pale silver-blue.

"Telling the truth. By the way, I'm not risking the kids on this one, not after what they did to him. So they're staying."

Non-negotiable. Robin didn't care. Red X wasn't going anywhere, either. Raven's room was too big for her anyway. Not that he'd ever say that to her face.

"…Just don't take them in the infirmary." A grin flickered across her mouth and she nodded, pleased. It was gone in an instant, but it helped ease Robin's nerves. Whatever was going on wasn't so bad Raven couldn't take a second to ignore it.

"You're a mom? Rae, that's so—ow!"

"But—"

"The Brotherhood has a healer. With a touch, you're golden. Red X saw a lot of her while he was with them. I didn't poke around because I don't want to alert them—the last thing we need is them knowing what we know. But he hasn't lied, and he won't, and this is more serious than Slade, or my father, or intergalactic civil wars. What they're doing—I don't even know if the League is prepared to deal with it."

Raven's voice was lighter than her words were, an obvious attempt to keep the children from panicking.

"…I'll go contact the League. See if there's anything else that he can tell us." Robin's voice was quiet, fainter than he would have liked. His blood chilled at the idea of contacting them, but…there was no other option.

"I wanna go!" One of the kids, a tiny blonde girl, started bouncing up and down.

"No, you're coming with me. Bobby too. We're going to get situated. You can bother Robin later."

Amidst the chaos of herding the children out of the kitchen, Cyborg shouted that he'd start contacting Titans. Robin waited until Star and Beast Boy agreed to help before taking his leave.

It would be strange, to have children in the Tower. Mas y Menos were young, but they weren't that young. And Robin knew they could handle themselves. Raven had told them stories of her kids' prowess in battle, but…it wasn't something Robin had seen for himself. He believed her, but he wasn't going to risk them unnecessarily.

Or the bear.

He was halfway to the infirmary before he remembered he was supposed to be contacting the League.

An arm slid around his waist and he jumped, eyes widening in surprise—but it was just Raven, looking smug and dangerously pleased with herself.

"What…? Are you alright?"

The smirk softened, as did the glint in her eyes, but only for a moment.

"You're half-dead, Robin. Go get some sleep before you call in. You know he's gonna answer for them. And you'll need Red X with you when you do so."

"If they seem him healed, they won't think anything of what happened. They won't take it as seriously as they should."

"…True. Alright, let's go."

"Raven—" She stepped in front of him, pressing herself to his chest as she wound her arms around his neck. She was rarely cuddly. The last time she'd been so close to him had been after Malchior's betrayal. She'd slept in his room for a while. She hadn't been able to handle the dragon's presence so close to her, not without breaking down.

"I trapped him in the book. And he's not happy with this, so—" Which explained a lot. Half of the reason she'd sought out Robin's company afterwards had been because it pissed Malchior off, she'd confided once. This was no different. Not that she was using him for her own purpose. She wouldn't touch him if she didn't honestly want the contact.

"But you still—"

"You're dead on your feet and he's dead on his bed. You're going to go do something that will fuck you up even more, and we both know that he's going to do something stupid to defend you." Robin shot her an incredulous look, which she ignored.

"You need me as a buffer. Now c'mon."

Really, there was no arguing with her when she was like that. He scowled, but allowed her to lead him to the infirmary.

"Start mopping up the blood or something. Wait, hold on." Red X blinked lazily at the two of them as Raven rubbed her hand through his hair. Robin jerked back, startled, and scowled again when strands fell in front of his eyes.

"You look more like shit now. Gotta hammer the point home."

"You—" Raven cut him off completely by removing her cape. Not because that was something she rarely did, but because it uncovered her wounds.

Every inch of her arms and legs were scarred, each cut deep and the flesh around it twisted as if it had been burnt. The markings were more like tattoos, with the faint lines of pulsing red light eminating from them, but—Robin sucked in a deep breath, stepping forward—he hadn't seen them since—

"They don't hurt, Robin. And I didn't lose control. They just—I got too mad. They showed up when I bound him. They'll fade, but…" It took a moment for him to process why she'd uncovered them, that she was alright, that it was nothing to worry about.

She wanted the League to see just how serious the situation was. Didn't want to deal with any doubt or another, 'deal with your own messes' speech, especially if—not that it was in doubt—he picked up on the other end. To see Raven, who had spent her entire life perfecting control, in such a state of disarray…

And to see Robin such a mess, helping a criminal….

"Do you do this often? Manipulate the shit out of people?" Red X sounded amused. He met Robins' glare head on, but only received a shrug from Raven as a response.

"What's going on, then? Talk went well, I hope?"

His voice was light, flippant, but his orbs were dark and guarded when Robin met them.

"…You're calling the League with us." Robin muttered, and started trying to clean up the mess he'd made of the infirmary. It distracted him, kept him from having to look up at Red X.

"…Why?"

"We're supposed to handle our own business. If we call in because of this without serious evidence it's bigger than we can handle, or that it isn't our business, the League won't do anything. They won't take us seriously."

"…Wow. Tough love?" Red X sounded incredulous, but the shock in his voice died off when he saw Robin flinch.

He put together the pieces. Grabbed Robin's wrist, when he reached down to wipe blood off of the bed frame.

"…They're making you do this?"

"If I don't…take responsibility for what happened, it'll be worse. Bad enough Raven will be with me." It was said stiffly. His hands were still trembling.

"Why?"

"Macho shit. Pisses me off. Obviously pisses you off too, which is why you will shut your mouth and play nice during the call." Raven interrupted, stepping up to the thief's bed and leaning over him, close enough that her hair dripped forward in a wave.

"You do not want them to find out you give a shit about Robin. 'Cuz you're their only lead. Our only lead. And—" Raven cut herself off, glancing at him apologetically before turning and fiddling with the screen.

The silence that enveloped them was thick, heavy. And then there was only a warning blip, before the wall in front of Raven shivered and went blue—a holographic screen shivering again as it connected to the League.

Red X squeezed his wrist briefly, and let go. There was a moment of static, and then his face appeared. He was masked, not so much as a thread out of place and alone in his office.

Robin glanced down, continued cleaning the thief's blood up as Raven rattled out a string of code words meant to verify their identity.

Bruce listened, motionless, and gave the proper response. Robin glanced at Red X as he straightened, set the cleaning supplies onto a counter. The thief had somehow gotten a cooling pack placed over what remained of his mask, effectively obscuring his features. It was about all that could be done, but…Robin hoped it'd be enough.

"…Robin. What's this about?" Bruce studied both of them for a moment, eyes lighting on Raven's marks, the blood, the mask-less Robin, before speaking. He could see the anger flash across Raven's face, to be ignored when she had initiated the call herself.

But that was how he thought. Subordinates didn't matter. The leader should be doing everything that could even potentially fall beneath his job's description. Robin knew he'd be hearing it from Bruce later, for letting Raven handle anything to do with the call, but…

"We've uncovered information that the League needs to know concerning the Brotherhood." He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. He was too tired to really think hard about what he'd say, and…Bruce was always picky about how he worded things.

"Urgent, I see." A jab at the mess.

"Got blasted in half, buddy. Can't get any more fucking urgent than that." Red X rasped, and Robin let out a slow breath, Bruce's eyes narrowing.

"I assume this urgent matter concerning the Brotherhood has everything to do with why there is a wanted criminal in the Tower, beneath your care, Robin?"

He didn't flinch only because Red X's gaze was heavy, solid. Not sharp or dangerous—not that it was safe, either—but it was something that grounded him. Kept him together.

"…The Brotherhood's initial attack plan—to neutralize all of the Titans—wasn't aimed at us. It was to hold our lives over your heads. They didn't expect us to fight back, never mind win. And we decimated their ranks in that final battle. They've decided to return the favor."

"I fail to see—"

"Red X has been an ally to us in the past. They assumed we were partners, or that at the very least he had information they could use against us. They tore half of his torso up past his rib cage off in response. We're contacting all Titans and taking the appropriate precautions. I'm handling it on my end. I expect the League to handle it on theirs." Robin had no idea how he wasn't trembling yet. His voice, his hands, his body, his gaze—all of it was steady, iron-hard and unforgiving even as Bruce's aura darkened. Because Robin had interrupted him. Wasn't allowing him to say his piece. For fuck's sake, he hadn't even been this defiant when he'd left.

"We're being targeted as part of an attack against you. We can't do anything about our position in regards to you, and we don't have the manpower or resources to deal with an organization as deeply connected as they're revealing themselves to be. We'll send you what information we have when we've finished compiling it. I—"

A loud, shrill beep sounded, cutting Robin off. The life support systems he'd hooked up to Red X earlier were activating.

"Fuck—"

Raven flew past him and Robin spun around sharply, eyes widening in horror. Red X was convulsing, choking—

"What's—"

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" Raven's magic flared, blazing so strongly, so brilliantly that it whipped around her like a storm. Something black—a different shade of black than Raven's, not warm or comforting but cold and poisonous—rose up out of the network of magic intertwining around the thief's body, and Raven's orbs zeroed in on it.

"Robin, hold him down! Don't touch his wound! Some sort of spell—shit!"

Robin was exhausted, and though the thief was in even worse shape than he was, his spasms held more strength then humanly possible. Still, he managed to pin him down—and their orbs met, and though he looked panicked, scared as shit and pissed off, he didn't look away. Didn't blink, either.

It took a long time for Raven to finish casting, and Robin was too dazed to fully recognize the moment she stopped. They just kept staring at each other, barely conscious. He vaguely realized somebody was shaking him, but—

—the last thing he was aware of was falling.

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

He drifted in and out of sleep for a long while before summoning enough strength to open his eyes. The light in the infirmary was dim, mostly just the pale blue glow of machines and safety lights, but it illuminated the bed beside him sharply. Red X's form wasn't quite so misshapen, though the surrounding area was still a mess. The scent of blood and magic was still thick in the air.

"Asshole."

"…Morning." Robin rasped, and let out a slow sigh as his eyelids drifted shut.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"…Days? Got insomnia."

"Insomnia my ass! That's what pills are for! You've been out for damn near two fucking days!"

Robin remembered the call to the League, remembered—

Holy shit. He was really exhausted if his fear wasn't strong enough to do anything more than make him open his eyes and gasp.

"The Lea—"

"The tin can cut the call off right afterwards. Came in because of the alarm. Raven's been drifting in and out of here since." The thief sounded irritated by that. Robin let out a hum, felt the tension leaving his body.

He wasn't aware his eyes were shut until there was a hand on his shoulder and the warmth of someone's breath on his cheek. It was difficult, though, to convince himself to care enough to open them.

Red X was standing, shaking. He eased himself down agonizingly slowly, nudging Robin closer to the other side of the bed.

"…What….?"

"You were screaming, most of the time you were asleep." His voice was quiet. Pitying? No. Sympathetic? No, not that either. But something similar.

"I don't…your wound—"

"Shut the fuck up, Grayson. How am I supposed to rest with you crying over here?" He snapped. And, really, Robin was too tired to argue with him. He was asleep before the thief had even finished throwing a blanket over them.

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

"Fuck."

"Language, Grayson."

"Then do this yourself!" Robin snapped, tossing the tablet onto the bed beside him and burying his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Throwing a tantrum, are we?" But the thief picked it up, swinging himself over the bed and leaning against Robin's shoulder.

His suit was still being repaired, but Robin had managed to fix his mask—though there wasn't much left, all of the important tech bits had been in decent enough condition. Though the thief's flesh had been melted, cauterized by whatever had hit him, it hadn't been something that actually produced heat—it had likely been no more than a side-effect of the spell Raven had had to flush out of his system.

It had been tailored to kill him if he survived to heal past a certain point. Jinx and Malchior hadn't known it—but their abilities weren't meant for healing, and so they'd only done would they could in keeping Red X breathing. The serum had triggered it. Raven said she'd barely been able to dispel it, but…

"This…"

"Just do it yourself." He could feel the thief's attention, sharp and edged as his head snapped up.

Robin had no idea what information he was supposed to give, what he was supposed to hide. Whatever happened, Bruce would dig for more. He would suspect Robin would hide something from him—he'd demand they arrest Red X, that they get all they could from him. Raven had been right to be worried.

"…He's not going to be able to find shit, no matter what it is you tell him. Here."

The report was far more descriptive than Robin would have sent, but…

"You don't need to make yourself out to be a villain. Not—not in this."

He probably should have jumped, when the thief threw an arm around his shoulder, pressing his head against Robin's shoulder.

He'd done so in the report. Made himself seem like he'd gone to the Titans because he knew they could save him. That he'd been more desperate than he had been—not that he hadn't been. Like he thought they owed him.

And Robin knew that he didn't. He sent the file to Raven, turned the tablet off, and set it off to the side.

"Oh, but I am. I'm your villain, and you're not getting rid of me."

"…You don't…" He was at a loss. He couldn't find the words to say what he wanted to, and…

"What else am I going to do with my time? You know how easy it is breaking into places?"

"Really wish I couldn't answer that question." He muttered, and buried his head in his hands. Red X let out a chuckle.

"Soon as the suit's ready, I'm going."

"…Where?"

"…Know there's a couple of 'em hiding somewhere up north. I'll be safe, go one by one." Robin felt the chill that ran through him, the churning of his stomach as the thief spoke so calmly of matters like—

"You—"

Fingers grasped his chin, turned his head to face the smooth oval of the thief's mask.

"Isn't time for your weakness."

""That's—"

"It's not like I don't know what I'm doing, Grayson." And Red X's voice faltered, the sharpness in it blunting and his hand dropping, head tilting away from Robin.

He closed his eyes, let out a slow breath. Felt the tension in the thief's body as if it was his own.

"Shit."

Robin pressed against Red X's shoulder, leaning into him carefully. It was his left side that was the bad one, and the last thing Robin wanted to do was to injure him any further.

"I…" He still couldn't find the words he needed.

"I don't want this to—I don't want you to. It's…you said before it's my weakness and I—"

"And you can't. Fix it. Do anything about it. You've made it this far. Might as well make it the rest of the way, you know?" Robin had never heard him sound like that before. Not weeping, or crying, or weak in any sense of the word but…

"You're not any different." Robin whispered. Red X leaned against him, rested his head on Robin's shoulder for a moment before standing, stretching.

"I am. I owe you. So get the Titans safe, whatever it is you want to do."

"If you leave, the League—" And Red X pulled away from him when he reached for him.

"Can't protect me anyway, Boy Wonder. But I'll be in touch." He said softly, studying Robin intently. Then he turned, and left.

Robin didn't chase after him. Didn't return to his room, either, until late that night. And though he hadn't told the thief that was where the suit was being repaired, it was gone.

Robin stared at his window for a moment—closed, but not locked—and sighed.

"If you die, I won't forgive you."

The words were quiet, dull, and they fell like heavy objects in the thick silence of his room.

He left the window unlocked.

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

"He's trying to dig around in our system." Cyborg muttered, poking the slice of cold pizza in front of him with a fork. He hadn't been eating much in the past few days. None of them had been, really. Too busy getting everyone safe, together, underground.

"Who is?" Starfire asked, gaze flickering up to Robin and back down to Cyborg almost too quickly for him to catch.

"That asshole at the League. Batman. Still thinks we didn't give him everything about Red X." Cyborg had the tact not to look at him when he spoke. The comment had been made in warning—get your information out, now—not out of a threat. Robin's fingers clenched around his knee, jaw tightening, but…

"We keep all of our important information on physical copies—our system should be empty save the bare minimum."

"It is. I've still gotta deal with this shit and I'm sick of it."

"Can you not call the League and ask—"

"Star, it won't change anything. He's convinced we have something we don't. Don't you remember the last time we dealt with the League?" Cyborg sighed, finally dropping his fork. Robin was on his feet and out of the kitchen before Starfire could respond.

He was usually quick to get a hold of himself, but halfway through the tower to his room, and he was still struggling. He spotted something out of the corner of his eyes, and it snapped him out of his thoughts.

There was…something in front of Raven's room, head resting on the door. Robin paused, gaze flickering his door, just down the hall, and back to the thing sighing in front of him.

It was humanoid, but…not flesh-and-blood. Made of paper, aged and cracked and covered in ink so old it was barely more than a shadow scrawled across each page. A handful of loose pages fluttered in circles around him, caught in some silent wind. As it shifted, stepped back and turned and froze when it saw him, Robin could see the flashes of blue-white magic crackling beneath it.

Oh.

"…If you hurt Raven again, we'll get to you first."

It—he—narrowed the space between two pages, orbs of magic darkening behind them. Probably supposed to be eyes.

"A repeat of last time? As I remember it none of you could do anything more than watch." Malchior growled.

Robin drew in a slow, deep breath. He was tired. He'd promised the team that he'd take something and get some sleep that morning, after nearly two days of nothing but work. He didn't have the patience to deal with Raven's…whatever Malchior was supposed to be.

He stepped forward, until he was right in front of the dragon, and met his gaze readily, eyes unblinking, unmoving.

"Do anything to Raven and I will kill you."

Malchior didn't say a word as he stepped away, past him and down the hallway to his room. Not about his threat, or the way Robin's entire body shook, trembled.

He slid to the ground, back against his door. Stayed there for a long while, trying not to think, not to worry.

All week had been a mess. The Titans hadn't believed, at first, or even later, that there was a threat. Thought it too far fetched.

Robin had had a hard time dissuading them of that belief. Because that was what the Titans were supposed to be—safe. More a refuge for anyone with abilities, a safe place for them to train and survive and learn to control their powers, then a coalition of superheroes meant to save the world. That was the League, their business.

The Brotherhood must have panicked, after Red X's escape. They'd attacked Aqua Lad, messily, clumsily. But it had been meant to kill.

Organizing safe places, aliases, getting the League what they needed and making sure everyone was going to be safe, had been…more than a full-time job. But it had been done. And now he could finally-

It disgusted him. That he felt like sleeping so badly, that he wanted rest that much, that…

He stumbled to his bed, somehow, and managed to down the pills and glass of water Raven had left on his nightstand.

They worked quickly, which was good. He never remembered what he dreamed of, when he took them, though he knew it was bad. But he felt rested, like he'd finally gotten the sleep he so badly needed, and that was worth it.

He wasn't even aware of falling asleep.

XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX-XxXxXxX

He woke to movement, somebody shifting beside him and the soft click of metal on plastic. The thief smelled of smoke, of blood and cold air, and he murmured something quietly as he settled beside Robin.

It was difficult, to tear himself out of sleep and roll over to face Red X. His limbs felt like they weren't his own, as if he wasn't actually moving. It was a feeling he was gradually growing used to, growing more comfortable with. By no means did that mean he enjoyed it, but…it meant he'd be clear-headed and rested, when he woke. And he needed that desperately.

"Awake?"

"…Sort of."

"Slurring your words. 'Course you're not."

"Fine." Robin murmured, shaking his head. Or maybe not—he thought he did, but it might have been too slight a movement to register. He did reach his hand out, press it against Red X's side. Relief flooded him, dizzying with his exhaustion, when he met something solid..

"Still in one piece, Grayson. Fine this time. Go back to sleep." And, really, he was far too persuasive for Robin to argue with.

"…Window?"

"Locked, set, now go to sleep."

"…Sure?"

The thief sighed, and threw an arm over Robin.

"'Course I am. Everyone safe?"

Robin nodded again, eyes drifting shut. The thief murmured something else, the sound faint, incoherent.

And then Robin was blinking sunlight out of his eyes, chasing the fog from his head as he sat up.

"You obsessive over shit too much."

"…Sorry?" Robin rasped, wincing at how hoarse his voice was, and looked over at his desk, where the thief's voice had come from.

Red X was shuffling through printouts of the Titan's security system, logs and security reports. Robin had been running check after check alongside Cyborg, to make sure everything was ironclad. Bruce invading their systems, whether there was anything on it or not, was…well. If they couldn't even keep him out, how would they keep the Brotherhood out, or worse?

"Why's Malchior here?"

"Didn't ask. Raven's got it under control."

"Really?" The thief sounded entirely unconvinced.

Robin eased his way out of bed, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he stood.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine. Told you last night." He sounded…irked. Irritated.

Robin plucked the papers out of his hands and dropped them on his dresser, frowning at the thief.

"How did it go? I…heard there was a fire." Read, more like it. Red X was not the type of person to make a mess of a job. He preferred subtlety—he was a thief, after all. That he'd burned down one of the largest libraries Robin had seen since the Gotham Public Library meant something had to have gone wrong.

"Mmm…guy had candles everywhere. Knocked a couple over on accident. By the time I could afford to check, whole place was burning. Dry paper and leather, went up like tinder. Figured the locals could handle it." He added carelessly, shrugging.

The movement tugged at his suit. He wasn't wearing his gloves, or his cape, and the suit's cloth pulled back on his flesh to show the dark, ugly bruises staining his wrists, his throat.

"…Any sign of healing?" Robin asked quietly, fingers brushing the inside of Red X's wrist. The thief jerked away, an involuntary hiss escaping him.

"N—Dammit, Grayson, just leave it alone! It'll be fine!"

They stared at each other, Robin's eyes never leaving the thief's red-splashed mask.

Robin swallowed hard, then, and clenched his jaw.

"…I told you. Not to—"

"I'm fine with it, Boy Wonder. I told you already. Just pissed I got caught."

That surprised both of them. Red X sort of withdrew, entire body flinching almost imperceptibly. And Robin could only stare, shocked.

"If you're still—"

"I froze. Fucker wasn't even one of them, but he knew who I was, and he—all he did was say shit. Like a fucking little kid, just spouting shit out to mock me. I got him, but he—I'm that fucking weak, that all it took was a few words, and I couldn't—" His voice cracked painfully, and he cut himself off. Trying to reign himself in, bring himself back under control. Dispel the memories of his capture, of whatever he'd gone through.

"…We've all been there. Because we're valuable, or special, or are connected to those who are." Robin's words felt cheap. Useless, dry, sour little things with no comfort or strength behind them—because who was he to say it was alright? He couldn't even pick up a gun and keep his family safe, for fuck's sake, and Red X was—

"…How'd you deal with it?" The words were a whisper, barely audible.

And Robin and crossed his arms across his chest, gaze finally dropping to the ground.

"I—I left. After I'd…I don't want to turn out like him. I don't regret it for…I regret it because of him. But they deserved it. I don't—it's not their deaths that upset me. It's just…I can't be him. Won't. So I left."

They were silent for a while. Robin realized, after a while, he was shaking.

And then Red X was standing in front of him, tilting his head up.

"You killed them?"

"…Yeah."

He expected the word to crystallize when it left him. To carry all of the weight it should have, all the emotion it did. But nothing materialized. Nothing fell, or broke, or—or—

"And it…helped?"

"You don't have to look over your shoulder. Or wait." He said softly, the words shuddering free of him.

"You don't sleep, though."

"Never could."

"Oh." It was the quietest he'd ever heard the thief. Considering, thoughtful. He'd…gained something, from what Robin had said.

And then he leaned forward, draped himself across Robin's shoulders.

"What's for breakfast?"

Robin blinked, processing the sudden change in the thief, what he'd asked. And then scowled.

"I offered to fix you, not feed you."

"I'll make you cook it if you're not careful, Grayson."

"Fuck off."

"Oh ho! Language! Now you're gonna have to cook for me!"

He got the feeling that the thief was smirking, behind his bruises and his mask. Masks.

But that was fine.

"Infirmary first."

Robin thought he was, too.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I ship this so hard -_-

If you couldn't tell, I wrote pretty much this whole thing feeling tired as FUCK. Sorry it turned out like Withheld (supposed to be like, 5 pages…this is almost thirty).

This is actually part of a series (supposed to be. Other parts aren't done yet). Kinda somber, I think, but I feel that it fits these two very well, even with the snark.

This has an assumption: Being that Batman has killed, been a darker force behind Robin, Robin was exposed to that, and Robin left bc of that. I don't know if that's legit in the comics or not, nor do I particularly care. It's called fanFICTION for a reason, no?

Prompt #96 from a 100 Theme Challenge: X. Couldn't not do Teen Titans with the prompt, Lol.