Well, here's the final chapter. Thanks to all of you who have read and reviewed; this has been a lot of fun to write. I'm already working on another story, so if you feel any inclination to stick about, you may expect more from me within a couple weeks.

Also, I drew a picture to go with this story, though I can't seem to get a link to function. Look up heimeldat on deviantart and you should find it.

A Night in the Life

Chapter Twelve

"I still won," said Sun Wukong.

Dick laughed before he could think. Part of him was just laughing because he was exhausted and hurt and scared and if he didn't laugh he'd cry. But partly he wanted Sun Wukong to know he'd lost. If the villain won, Robin wouldn't laugh, right?

Batman was standing. Robin couldn't stay on the floor. He jumped up fast, before his body could remember how much it wanted to disobey him. The motion sent a flash of white pain down his arm and up his neck. The adrenaline that rushed through him when the gun fired and the door exploded and he knocked his chair over was gone now, and he ached all over. But they'd beat the bad guy, and that gave him enough strength to smile and step forward beside Batman.

"You didn't win," he said. "I'm still alive."

Sun Wukong smiled back. "I made my mark. You won't forget me."

Robin laughed again. "You mean Petra made a mark." He forced both hands to stay by his sides, resisted the urge to curl around the pain and hug his wounded arm to him. "I'll have a scar to remember her by. But you?" He started to shrug, thought better of it as his shoulder screamed protest, and settled for copying Sun Wukong's sneer. "I've lost count of how many times I've gotten kidnapped, tied up, and stuck in death traps. Nothing special."

Sun Wukong's smile slipped, then crumpled up like a dirty tissue.

"Time to go," said Batman, and Robin realised he could hear sirens approaching. Bruce's mouth was a hard, cold line below the mask. That meant he was still worried or angry.

Dick turned his smile toward Bruce and tried to make it say: I'm all right, I knew you'd come, everything's fine now. Out loud he just said, "I could do with some breakfast." He suddenly realised he had been fighting and running and battling poison and blood loss for hours without any food. No wonder he felt so weak and shaky.

He barely made it outside before he collapsed against Batman. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight back the pain, but it wasn't working this time. It seemed like Bruce could always work through pain, but he wasn't Bruce. "Sorry," he breathed. He crossed his arms, curled the left one against his chest, protected it with the right. His shoulder was on fire and now he felt bruises starting where he'd hit the floor. His upper arm and hip were going to be black and blue tomorrow.

Bruce steered him across cracked, uneven asphalt, away from the faint warmth of dawn into deeper shadow. He could feel the change in temperature without opening his eyes. They were in an alley now. He stumbled along for what felt like forever, with Bruce's arm steady around his waist. The hard edges of Batman's gauntlet pressed into his back.

At last they stopped. "Sit," said Bruce.

Dick slid down to sit on damp pavement with a cold brick wall behind him. He opened his eyes and realised they'd only come fifty feet down the alley, around a corner into a grimy sort of courtyard formed by the backs of several buildings.

"Alfred," said Bruce, "send the backup car to our location."

"Of course, sir." Alfred's voice crackled through Dick's radio as well, soothing and steady as ever. "I shall also take the liberty of preparing further medical attention for the both of you upon your return. And I shall have breakfast ready as well."

"Good." Bruce sat beside Dick and bent over his shoulder again, examining the injury more carefully. "You know you'll be off patrol until this heals."

Dick made a face, but didn't have enough energy to be annoyed right now. "I figured." He sat silent for a long moment, then said, "He told me he was as good as dead."

"He stole a large amount of valuable property from R'as al Ghul and sold it on the black market. The Demon doesn't forgive."

"So he just wanted to…go out with a bang?" It sort of made sense. The guy was still crazy, but if he was expecting to die, Dick could see him wanting to make a last, desperate grab for something bigger or better.

"To steal immortality from the gods," said Bruce. "To be remembered by heroes." His voice was cold and heavy with disgust.

Robin shuddered. He never forgot the ones who came this close to killing him. Did that mean Sun Wukong won after all? It really was a kind of immortality, wasn't it? "Was he right?" he asked quietly.

"No." Bruce met his eyes. "You were right. He was nothing special." The white lenses said nothing, but below the cowl, his mouth softened, almost smiling. "Just another night in the life of Batman and Robin."