Well...I finally wrote the after-Broken one-shot. I'm writing a sequel...eventually, and it's going to be called Catalyst...so if I refer to it later, don't be confused. This is quite long...I was considering breaking it up into chapters, but I didn't like that idea so...hope you can survive the length.

Slade cocked the pistol against her temple. "Now, this gun might not be loaded…Are you willing to take that chance, Robin?"

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, this was his worst nightmare, except this time he wasn't sleeping. "D-don't…p-put her down…"

"There is one way to save her, Robin…but I'm sure you are unwilling to do it." His finger pressed down on the trigger.

Robin stared into her horrified eyes…he wanted to scream and thrash and cry. "I'll…I'll do anything…j-just put her down…"

Slade grinned. "Good boy. Now listen carefully, because I am only going to say this once. If you tell me what I need to know, I will let her live. But if you refuse…" He dug the pistol into Raven's temple, making her wince in pain.

"I'll do whatever you say, just…don't hurt Raven." The desperation in his voice would have melted any heart, but unfortunately, Slade didn't have one.

"Excellent. Now, tell me, once and for all, who is Batman?"

Robin froze, his brain going numb. He couldn't…Bruce had made him swear never to tell anyone, much less a known enemy! Slade wasn't just curious…if he knew, he would try to destroy Bruce. What if he succeeded? He couldn't tell…But what about Raven? Slade would killher if he remained silent; Robin knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt. He could not let Raven die…she was his soul, his strength, his purpose. He would die without her. "I…"

"I am growing impatient, Robin."

What to do? Both choices ended in the harm of someone he loved. He couldn't choose, he couldn't!

"5…"

Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, his brain throbbed as he franticly searched for a solution. He could lie…but Slade would know. Slade would kill her.

"4…"

He would never betray Batman! He was his father, the only person that had cared about that scrawny, emotionally dead little orphan all those years ago. How could he betray Bruce?

"3…" Slade pressed the gun into Raven's temple.

His breathing was ragged…he loved Raven. He had always loved Raven. He could never live with himself knowing that she had died at his hands.

"2…"

His heart thudded loudly in his ears, Raven's eyes burned into him…

"1." Slade's finger tightened around the trigger…

Robin's eyes widened in horror as he tried yet again to yell out the name Slade wanted to desperately to hear, but not a sound escaped his mouth. Blinded with fear, he staggered towards Slade, begging and pleading in his mind for the villain's mercy--

A defeaning shot tore through his eardrums. Even as it played out before his eyes, his mind could not comprehend it. This...this wasn't how it was supposed to happen...

He screamed as blood seared his eyes, blood. Raven's blood. On his hands. Blood...

---

"Ten minutes, Robin." All the color drained from his face as the voice of Slade echoed in his ears. Ten...ten minutes? "No...let me go!"

"Raven!" Robin swore breathlessly, scrambling to his feet, his hand darting to his utility belt...and the pistol Slade had given him. Robin was a master of wriggling out of the tightest of places, but thist time, he could see no escape. Someone...Mina, would have to die to keep Raven alive. And he would have to kill her.

"R...Robin, what are you...?" Mina stared, wide-eyed and slightly fearful as he withdrew the gun from its compartment. No! He couldn't do this...her green eyes bored into him, silently asking why. The gun shook in his hand, his breath coming in short, irregular bursts. No...

"Seven minutes, Robin." The words turned his blood to ice as faint screaming echoed in his ear. Slade was hurting Raven. "No...Robin!"

He swallowed hard against the golf ball in his throat, his hands so slick with sweat that he could hardly grip the pistol. To kill...to take a life. Such a crime was utterly unforgivable, unimaginable. Murder. That word would carry him well over the line between good and evil, drag him into Slade's domain, never to return. A living, breathing, perfect human being, beautiful, young. Extinguished at his hand.

"Five minutes, Robin." "ROBIN!"

Mina stared at the gun, panic rising in her chest as the barrel darted from her head to her heart, shaking violently. His face was as white as chalk, his eyes wide behind the mask...but he was determined, too.

"Three minutes, Robin." Her screams rang in his ears, desperate, pleading. Slade was killing her. The girl was trembling slightly, all color gone from her pixie-ish features, fear in her wide eyes. It was the same fear he felt in the presence of his Master. His stomach turning in disgust, his mind screaming in panic, Robin leveled the gun at Mina's chest.

"One minute, Robin." The screams were silenced, an eerie quiet in their wake. He would do anything for Raven...anything at all.

"Robin..." Mina choked, all the air stolen from her body as though the bullet was already lodged in her heart.

Robin clicked back the safety. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as his finger tightened around the trigger...

And kept tightening.

Something was wrong...where was Bruce? He should have come by now--

Before he could stop himself, the bullet was released, spiraling through the air. Time seemed to slow down around it as he watched it approach her with agonizing grief. His mouth opened in a silent scream as her eyes squeezed shut, a single tear glistening on her cheek...then...

Impact.

---

He frowned as he felt the warmth of his breath crowd around his face, almost suffocating him, like keeping your head under the blankets for too long. He tried to reach up to see what was blocking his mouth, but his hand wouldn't obey him. Instead, it dived toward his waist, whipping out something that glinted in the dim light, and pointing it at Batman.

He squinted, trying to see Bruce better...but in vain. It was as though he was seeing the world through one eye...

In one blinding flash, he knew. Slade, the gun...had to do something, had to stop it... With all his strength, he struggled to drop the weapon, but it remained firmly in his hand, a finger tightening around the trigger...

No! Not again, wake up! Please let me wake up!

Unbidden, unwanted, he felt his lips curve into a sneer behind the mask, felt a hideous pleasure tingling through him even as his mind screamed in panic. There was nothing he could do to stop it. His fault...

A gasp of pain ripped through the still air, ripped through his mind as Bruce Wayne fell. Pain-filled eyes stared up at him, burning holes in his soul. "Why? I...I'm your...father."

The sneer grew wider, though every muscle in his body was rebelling against it, the sadistic pleasure coursing through him bringing a rushing noise to his ears. He...he was enjoying this.

"I already have a father." His lips formed the words without his permission as he pulled the trigger again, finishing Bruce Wayne with a clean shot to the head. Maniacal laughter burst from his mouth as tears streamed in neverending rivers from his cold, gray eye.

---

"You think they care about you? You think that once I am dead you can go back to your precious tower and everything will be fairy-tale perfect? Think again. They respect you out of fear, Robin. Fear of what you could become, and deep inside they know they need you. They keep you around because, without you, they are nothing. They're using you, Robin."

Dead. Blood. Murder. Murderer.

"And of course there is Raven. She claims to love you unconditionally, swears to stay by your side always, showers you with tender words and sweet kisses. But answer me this, Robin. How long will that last?"

Dead. All dead.

Slade narrowed his eye knowingly. "I thought so. Well, let me answer that question for you, judging from...experience. It won't. Soon enough, your nature will begin to frustrate her, even frighten her to some degree. She will grow tired of you, and that young foolish love she swore would ast forever will shrivel up and die before your very eyes. Raven will leave, and you will be alone with nothing to shield you from the truth."

Raven. Mina. Bruce. Dead. Gone. Fault. My Fault. All My Fault.

"NOOO!"

"Robin!"

"No...No...No..."

"Dick, it's ok!"

Robin shook and shivered with fear, violent tears racking his body as the images burned into his very soul. It took him a moment to realize that he was not alone.

Bruce was crouched beside him on the ground, concern in his dark eyes. He was in a bathrobe, hair slightly ruffled...Robin felt instantly guilty for waking him from the sleep he got so little of. Bruce, however, didn't seem to mind.

"Shhh...it's ok, Dick," he whispered, wrapping his arms around the boy and smoothing back his jet black hair. "It was just a dream, just a nightmare. It's over now. You're safe."

The moment was entirely surreal, so impossible that Robin almost believed it to be yet another dream. Well, if it was a dream, he might as well enjoy it.

Feeling as though he was eight and afraid of the dark again, Richard buried his face in Bruce's bathrobe, closing his eyes and breathing in the comforting smell of Old Spice as Bruce rubbed his back and stroked his hair, whispering words of comfort in that calm, slightly raspy voice that had always been able to sooth him. The nightmare slowly faded, fear was chased away, and sleep crept up on him once more.

Eyelids drooping, a sleepy smile on his face, Richard ran his hand along Bruce's fuzzy black bathrobe. "I love you..." he yawned, "Dad."

Bruce watched as Richard's eyes closed, his body relaxing into deep, even breathing. The kid looked peaceful for the first time in a long time.

Lifting him with a little too much ease, Bruce carried him over to his twin bed, moving an extremely abused teddy bear out of the way as he settled him down on the pillows and pulled the blankets up over him. For a moment, he just stood there, watching him sleep...

With a guilty glance over his shoulder, Bruce hesitantly leaned over and gave him a peck on the forehead. Robin stirred slightly, a tiny half-smile tugging at his lips as he turned over, somehow managing to find the bear.

With one last look, Bruce made his way to the door, pausing on the threshold. Awkwardly, he whispered the words to the quiet room. "I love you too, Squirt."

As the first sunbeams of the day crept in through the curtained window, Robin sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Wait...he was in bed.

Puzzled, he pulled back the covers and put a bare foot on the carpet. He hadn't woken up in bed for quite some time now. He always started out that way, but somehow...he couldn't get used to how soft it was. Morning after morning, he woke to find himself curled up on the floor, back to the wall. He didn't like to think about why that position was comfortable to him.

Still wondering about his recent change in sleeping patterns, Robin pulled on a pair of faded blue jeans and tugged a black t-shirt over his head. He was halfway out the door when he froze, putting a hand to his face. In seconds, he was back in the room, taking the mask from his nightstand and placing it over his hazel eyes. He just...didn't feel right without it.

"Master Dick! I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to crawl out of that bedroom of yours. What's that you used to say about the early bird, sir?"

Robin grinned, giving Alfred a quick hug as he entered the kitchen. "Oh well, I never was all that crazy about worms. Too slimey for me."

Alfred chuckled, smoothing Robin's bed-head. "Rightly so, sir. Well, since you've certainly missed the worm," he gestured to the grandfather clock, which now read eleven thirty, "would you settle for some blueberry waffles? With plenty of syrup, of course. Need to put something on those bones of yours."

Robin smiled and nodded enthusiastically, settling down on the barstool with a glass of chocolate milk. He noticed with a start that he could no longer swing his legs, kicking the counter and drumming out a delightfully annoying beat, as he always used to. Apparently, he'd grown more than he thought in the last two years.

While skimming casually over the newspaper headlines and watching Alfred make the waffles, Robin asked himself why he felt so...happy? Content? Peaceful, even? Something was different today; he felt truly hungry, for one thing. Here he was cracking jokes with Alfred and laughing over the funnies, as though he hadn't a care in the world. Why?

A vague, hazy memory of the night before drifted back to him, and a frown crept onto his face. Bruce... It could have easily been a dream, but then, since when were any of his dreams good?

Three waffles and five glasses of milk later, Robin sat back in his chair, licking the syrup off his fork and watching Alfred bustle around the kitchen. Feeling almost wary, he asked, "Um...where's Bruce?"

Alfred stopped what he was doing and gave Richard his full attention. "I believe he's down in the Cave, sir. He asked me to send you along to see him, after you'd finished eating." He smiled as he glanced at the only remaining waffle. "I don't suppose you have room for another, Master Dick?"

Robin laughed, shaking his head. "I think I'm disadvantaged as it is, especially if Bruce wants me for something. Did he say what it was about?" he asked curiously.

Alfred shook his head. "No, sir. I suppose you'll just have to find out when you get there." He winked, then turned back to the dusting.

Feeling slightly apprehensive, Robin headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks for the waffles, Alfred!"

Robin took the stairs slowly, running over everything Bruce could possibly want in his mind...but in the end, it wall all just useless speculation. He would have to talk to him to find out.

At first, the cave appeared empty...until he caught sight of a black shadow, barely visible in the corner of his eye. He whirled around just in time to catch the flying projectile headed for his head. He nearly dropped it, however, and stared at it inquisitively to find that it was a weighted bo-staff, each end considerably heavier than the middle. This brought the grand weight total to an estimated fify pounds.

Puzzled, he lifted his gaze to se a grave-faced Batman standing barely a foot from him. "What's this?"

"Your first assignment."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "Assignment?"

"For your training," Batman responded, voice even and emotionless.

Robin slowly backed away, arm muscles straining with the effort of holding the staff. "Wait...what are you talking about? You've already trained me, you've taught me everything y--"

"I taught you the basics, Robin. I would have been insane to do anything else with an eleven-year-old. I taught you how to take down the average lunatic on your own and assist in defeating the more serious villains. I never expected you to face someone of Slade's caliber alone." Batman ignored Robin's flinch, pressing on as though he had given no reaction. "Your training begins today. It will be extremely challenging, it will push you to your limits, but if you complete it...you'll be prepared to face him again. At this point, he sees you as an incompetent teenager that he can toy with. When I'm through with you, Slade will see you as a worthy opponent."

Robin stared, wide-eyed, as the information sank in. It made perfect sense that Batman wouldn't have taught him everything all at once. The fact that the Dark Knight considered him worthy of that instruction now brought forth a certain level of pride in Robin. And, of course, he could hardly resist the offer to kick Slade's sorry posterior to Hades and back. All things considered, it was a sweet deal. "Sounds good." He gestured to the staff in his hands. "So you want me to work with this, to build the muscles in my arms?"

Batman nodded. "Before you agree, there's more."

Robin's suspicion mounted. "And that would be...?"

"You will be required to eat four thousand calories per day--" he raised a hand to silence Robin's protest, "including protein, fiber, carbohydrates; a balanced diet. Training will be no good if you're starving yourse--Robin, will you let me finish?" he asked, slightly exasperated by the boy's continuing interruptions.

Robin fell silent, scowling at the phrase "starving yourself", and allowed Batman to continue.

"I will expect a set amount of weight gain per weak, and if you don't achieve it, you won't advance in your training. These strict requirements will be lifted once I feel that you are back to your former health, but if you attempt to return to your old ways, the schedule will be even less to your taste. I think I should mention that Alfred is in on this, so 'I'm not hungry' is not going to get you past him anymore. Any questions?"

"Are you going to 'require' a set amount of sleep as well?" asked Robin, the innocent expression on his face not quite masking his sarcasm.

Batman grinned evilly, and Robin wondered with increasing unease what he found so humorous. "Oh, don't worry about that. I have a good feeling you'll be wishing you could have more rest, when you've had a couple days of training. You're a little rusty and incredibly out of shape. A slight breeze could blow you over, squirt." He surprised Robin by reaching out and ruffling up his hair. Before the boy could say one word in protest, Batman returned to his professional manner. "Now, go get changed and meet me in the training room in ten minutes."

Robin gave him an odd look, then nodded, bending over to put down the staff--

"Take that with you. You need to get used to the weight...and you now have nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."

Grumbling, Robin turned and struggled up the stairs, sweat standing out in beads on his forehead. Despite his complaints, Robin was...excited. Something told him that Batman was about to supply exactly what he had been needing for so long.

Robin soon fell into the rhythm of his new routine.

At five o'clock every morning, he dragged himself out of bed and raced down to the training room, where he did whatever Batman told him to for two hours. A quick shower, then down to the kitchen at seven thirty for a large and nutritionally sound breakfast with Alfred. Eight o'clock saw him jogging up and down and all around the grounds, preceeded by an annoyingly arrogant Batman and spurred on by the ocassional taunt. When every trace of breakfast was burned away, it was back into the manor for weight-lifting. Lunch came at noon and disappeared all too fast for his liking; his appetite was back...with a vengeance. At twelve thirty there was meditation: an agonizing hour and a half of complete and utter stillness; a simple muscle twitch earned him an extra five minutes. That was followed by two hours of peculiar and entirely unpredictable martial arts training. Dinner came at four o'clock, being the one meal that involved talking; a.k.a. endless discussions on the politics in Gotham, recent developements in the Justice League, and news from Arkham Asylum and S.T.A.R. Labs. Robin often dosed off during these conversations, sometimes falling asleep in his food. Five o'clock signaled the beginning of free time, in which he could do just about anything he wanted. Batman's list of things Robin could want to do included: walking around the grounds, spending some extra hours in the training room, reading in the enormous library, doing whatever it was he liked to do on the computer, cleaning his room, and writing a book. Out of these, Robin usually managed to read the e-mail from Raven and give a semi-decent response before showering, picking up his dirty clothes, and falling on the bed in instant sleep. In what felt like no more than ten minutes, the alarm was screaming at him...and another beautiful day began.

But, strangely enough...he was the happiest he had been in a long time. Exhaustion made dreaming almost impossible, he was slowly gaining back weight in solid muscle, and his mind was almost entirely free from thoughts of Slade. He was, in every sense, too busy to bother about the psycho...for the time being, at least. Of course, he still had days...Days when all the memories flooded back, all the pain clouding his senses... On these days, Batman left him alone and Bruce spent the day with him. He felt like...like he had a dad again. For the first time in a long time, he was making progress...in every sense of the word.

The one thing that stayed in his mind throughout it all was Raven. Her absense was a fire in his chest, a hole in his stomach, a knife in his heart. Every waking moment was spent in her name, every punch was for her. Day by day, week by week, month by month...year by year, he fought knowing that he was pushing himself that much closer to being worthy of seeing her again. He made a promise...and Robin didn't take his promises lightly.

Raven sighed, rubbing her temples as she pulled back Robin's desk chair and set down her mug of tea. The computer whirred to life with the touch of a button, and Raven watched the screen impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground. It was one o'clock in the morning, and the rest of the team was at last settled in (sound like a babysitter term? well, there's a reason), giving Raven some semblance of peace for the first time all day. She made a mental note to pat Robin on the back (figuritively, of course) once again for how well he had handled his leading duties. In fact, he made it look almost easy--a decieving impression.

When the screen finally popped up, she typed in his password (nosyargkcid), waited for a few seconds, and signed in to messenger. A tiny smile crept across her face as the little window popped up and chirped happily: You have 1 new message in your e-mail Inbox.

Taking a sip of her tea, Raven settled back in the chair to read.

To: Rae (quoththeraven)

From: Wonder Boy (the-one-and-only)

ugh, very very VERY long day. its all i can do to keep from falling asleep on the keyboard.

batmans pretty harsh with training lately, he has no problem wacking me with that stupid fifty pound staff...laughs but i got him good today...wacked him smack dab in the middle of his forehead. grins he went cross eyed for a sec, but in the end all he said was "well, that was certainly...better." MUAHAHA! take that, bathead!

Raven chuckled quietly, picturing Robin's victory dance and Batman's dazed expression.

you would be pleased to know that im fat again. pats stomach yup, im putting on the pounds...now ill never fit into that new bathing suit! what shall we do? laughs hard not to gain weight, with alfreds cooking. he makes this tea drink that i think you would appreciate...puts honey and ginger or something in it. maybe ill get the recipe and whip it up for you sometime...but the real deal is his blueberry waffles. drools dang it, now im hungry again! enough talk about food!

so...how are things there? hows mina doing? bb and cy arent tearing each other apart are they? is cy still giving you grief about leading? any new criminals? has larry popped in for a visit?

...hows your tea?

Raven froze, eyes widening as she looked from the screen to her half empty mug and back again. Shaking her head and laughing, she read on.

yswns wde enuff to swallir chima wrll geuss il ggo to bud now...sltp well rae...ily.

Raven's eyebrow shot up, then she laughed again, translating his typo-ridden farewell. "You must have been dead tired, to make a typing error...or ten." She always felt a little worried when he casually mentioned his daily cuts and bruises, but overall, she loved the fact that Batman had him on such a strict schedule. He was eating, sleeping, and joking again...and he hadn't mentioned Slade in months. Batman really was keeping his promise...

A frown crept up on her out of the blue. It had been over a year since he left, a year since she last saw him. The pit in her stomach deepened. All she wanted at this point was for him to come home...selfishness had surfaced at last and she didn't care. She had sacrificed long enough.

Moving jerkily, Raven clicked Reply.

To: Wonder Boy (the-one-and-only)

From: Rae (quoththeraven)

You too, huh?

Lol glad to hear that you're finally getting him back. I'm sure he's happy to see you improving. Bathead? Hmmm...that's original. Is the staff really fifty pounds, or are you just exagerating?

Ew...you don't even want to know the image I got from that. You and I both know that you were never fat, Robin, so I'm guessing that would mean you are no longer anorexic and your uniform is no longer two sizes too big for you. Yes, I am glad to hear it...being that thin is far from attractive, Wonder Bread. Hmm...that sounds interesting. Sure, get the recipe if you want. Blueberry waffles? I've heard of blueberry pancakes, but not waffles. Are they really that good?

sigh Well...the tower is still standing. Mina is doing quite well...she's moving right along with her training and improving with each lesson. I expected her to befriend Starfire or Beast Boy, but, oddly enough, she's taken to hanging out with me. And my room doesn't frighten her in the least. Well...lets just say they are still, for the most part, intact. Cyborg still doesn't seem too pleased about your decision, but he listens to my orders and shows me some kind of respect. Lets see...some idiot who appears to be a flower child and wants to "spread the love" in an exceedingly violent way, a couple of gangs, an alien (no, not Starfire), and a rabid werebunny. Other than that, nothing new. Larry? No.

It's lovely, thank you, Robin. I'm not even going to ask how you knew I was drinking some.

Wow...I almost needed a Delirious Boy Wonder translator for that one. Lets see...somehow I can picture you swallowing China quite vividly. I'm sure I will sleep just fine, and I have no doubts that you will as well. ily too.

Robin...when are you coming home?

Raven stared blearily at the screen, blinking away silent tears. Subconsciously, her right hand went to her left, twising the ring around her finger and tracing over the familiar paths of the thorns and petals. True to her word, it hadn't left her finger since she first put it on.

Wiping her eyes and scolding herself for that lapse as a birdarang exploded on the work bench behind her, Raven reached for the mouse, ready to send her message...

Before she could move a muscle, she felt a hand roughly press something into her face. Struggling and trying not to breathe in, Raven stared wide-eyed at the screen, her eyes falling on the words she had last typed.

Help...

Her mind grew dark, her eyes became heavy...

Robin...help me...

The world went black.

"Raven!"

Robin sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath and drenched in cold sweat. Seeing the familiar walls of his bedroom at Wayne Manor, he relaxed slightly, though his eyes still burned with the dream. He had been so sure that it was real; her voice sounded as though she was standing right next to him, her plea for help making his blood run cold. It was just so terribly realistic...

"Just a nightmare," he told himself firmly, making his breaths deep and even. "You've had thousands of them before, and they were all just as realistic as that one. Just go back to bed."

Glancing at the clock, Robin groaned as "1:30" burned into his eyes. Three and a half hours before he would have to crawl out of bed, and he still felt just as tired as he had when he went to bed. Falling back on his pillow and closing his eyes, Robin searched desperately for sleep...but it elluded his grasp. Memories...

She will die, Robin.

Snatching up his pillow, he tore back the covers and made his way to the corner, curling up on the floor with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door. Sleep did not come.

"Robin? Anyone in there?"

"Wha...?" Robin was surprised to see Batman waving a gloved hand before his eyes. "Oh...sorry. Is it time for lunch?"

Batman frowned. "We ate lunch two hours ago. Where's your head, Robin? I've hit you at least ten times in the last half hour."

He frowned, struggling to remember the blows...well, that would explain the searing pains in just about every part of his body. "I'm fine...just...didn't get much sleep last night."

Batman nodded understandingly, a look of concern in his eyes. Surprising both himself and Robin, he tossed down the bo-staff. "Let's call it a day. See you at dinner." With that, he turned and left Robin to his troubled thoughts.

Back in his room and seated at his desk, Robin was relieved to see the little window pop up on his screen: You have 1 new message in your e-mail Inbox. And then he felt unbelievably stupid, for letting himself get worked up over a stupid dream. Raven was perfectly fine.

Clicking the window, he settled back in the chair with a crooked smile on his face, wondering what Raven would say this time...

But the e-mail wasn't from Raven. Reading the very first line, Robin's face immediately paled, his eyes widening as his stomach churned and fear crept into his veins.

we dont want to bother you, but...ravens missing. she disappeared last night--

There was more, but Robin was already running, knocking the chair over as he raced for the door. "Bruce!" he yelled, pounding down the hallway as panic surged through him. No...please no...it couldn't...he can't... "BRUCE!"

Whoa...that was...tiring. Fun to write, but such a pain to type up. Now, before you yell at me about how out-of-character they are, let me just say this: this is my story, therefore, I'm going to take a certain amount of creative license in deciding what the characters would or would not do. I'm not saying I'm going to have Raven wear a clown suit and BB recite poetry, but the rest is really opinion. Raven's email address was inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's poem...yes, their email adress was in parantheses, but it wouldn't let me type the rest of it. Now, with the training that Batman gave Robin...think Rahz Al Gul (or however you spell that) with morals. Ah yes, it is a cliffhanger...but I think you've figured out by now that those are simply in my blood. The sequel will come...I don't know when it will come, but it will come. Some parts of this were inspired by Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker...poor Tim Drake, I think he needs a hug. -cough- I'm done. Review please, cuz if you don't review this you'll never get the sequel. -Dusty