Please leave all pitchforks and torches at the door, thank you very much, and have a nice day.

Thank you, Chuck Dixon and Alan Grant, for bringing the Boy Wonder back to life in the comics.

A-A-A-A

Tim could see the Titans fighting off Slade's army of battle droids on the screen. They blasted down anything in their path as they battled their way towards the central control room where he was being held prisoner. His jailer stood watching the fight on the massive computer display with his arms locked behind his back stiffly.

"Here he comes; the disillusioned Teen Wonder and his allies ready to save another youth from destruction," Slade said with disgusted sarcasm. "And once again, he will fail."

"Nightwing's no failure," Tim said boldly.

Slade shifted his head to the left side were the lone eye gazed intently at Tim. "If only you knew how many other children he's jeopardized, you'd think twice before calling him a friend."

"Just ask Nightwing who Terra was," he added.

The doors below them were heard ripping from their hinges with a loud noise. "I see Cyborg still keeps his entrance with an attitude," Slade noted aloud.

"Aright, let's do this!" Tim heard him yell. There was the furious growl of an animal, perhaps a lion or a tiger? Either way, Beast Boy was duking it out with his own ways. Slade leaned over the platform and placed both hands on the metal bars keeping Tim and himself above the Armageddon where the Titans attempted to fight off his army of commanding robots.

Starfire flew above laser beams only stopping long enough to hurl starbolts down at the oppressors. Raven was concentrating with all of her energy to fling whatever inanimate objects she could at the droids: steel beams, chunks of rock, wooden crates, and more.

Raven was so preoccupied in her duty that she didn't see one droid aimed a gun at her head. Raven turned around just as the fiery red beam hit her squarely in the chest and she was knocked against the wall like a kitten. The young woman fell to the floor in a heap. Raven struggled to her hands and knees but already several more oppressors had encircled her.

"Moonchild!" Tim hollered. Unable to see her hurt, he shut his eyes tightly and prayed for help.

The end of a long thick snaky green tail lashed across the room knocking droids aside. Tim opened one eye to see a Tyrannosaurus Rex roared aloud, his mighty tail sweeping the metal men back and forth until they were heaps of crumbled tin men.

Beast Boy morphed into his smaller form and ran over to Raven. "Are you ok?" he asked, pulling an arm around his shoulder. The dazed girl blinked and looked at her rescuer.

"I am now," she said softly. "Thanks."

"Anytime," Beast Boy smiled back at her.

Nightwing seemed to be cornered in one part of the compound-but not for long. The staff smacked each droid's laser beam to render it unarmed. Then he punched them all to the ground with his bare fists, releasing gasps of anger and air whenever Nightwing hit something.

"Tim! Tim, where are you?" Nightwing yelled out.

"I'm right here," he shouted, squeezing tightly on the ropes.

A grappling hook shot into the air and landed on the platform near Slade. Nightwing hosted himself up from the battle and onto the second level with Slade and Tim. He landed on all fours but quickly stood up like a soldier: tall, slender, and livid with rage.

"Slade," he growled in a voice seething with pure loathing.

"Nightwing," he was answered with a nod of the villain's head. "How good to see you again. I was hoping tonight's business wouldn't be so dull if I just delivered your little friend over to Two Face."

Nightwing landed on his feet, twirling his staff around fiercely. "I'm taking Tim back whether you like it or not."

"You will fail," Slade retorted.

The captive Tim was powerless to do anything but watch the two men fight. Staffs collided and punches and kicks were delivered. Slade was certainly stronger of the two but Nightwing continue to move nimbly and give several minor injuries to the other man. Once or twice Slade swung an arm that nearly knocking Nightwing off his feet yet he managed to regain his footing quickly. To Tim it was like a choreographed dance, a familiar fight that both Slade and Nightwing had memorized from constant attacks to each other.

It looked like Nightwing finally succeeded when he swept his staff at Slade's feet, causing the man to fall to the ground. Slade landed near a pile of oil-filled barrels flat on his face. The Teen Wonder walked over to him.

"Giving up so soon, Slade?" Nightwing said over his shoulder.

"On the contrary," he murmured. Tim saw Slade reach for something.

"Nightwing, look out!" he cried.

A thick metal chain lashed through the air and snaked around Nightwing's right wrist causing him to be trapped in his nemesis's grasp. Slade gave a ruthless yank on the chain, which sent Nightwing crashing against the metal bars of a catwalk.

"I'm just getting started," he said.

A steel clad hand whistled through the air and hit Nightwing squarely in the chest. Tim heard him gasp in a shrill breath and several drops of blood flew from his mouth. He was badly injured from the blow. Slade grabbed Nightwing by the throat to restrain his air pipes.

"You're getting sloppy, Nightwing," he spoke with disdain. "So sloppy that I'll assume you haven't even faced your facts with your precious baby brother. Does he know about our past little 'deal'?"

"Don't-say-it," Nightwing hissed.

"What? Do you fear the truth, Nightwing? You may have a new mask and uniform but it's the same foolish relentless child underneath." Slade threw Nightwing to the ground like a worn rag. The young man struggled to get up but Slade's boot slammed down on his back making Nightwing into nothing but a parasite in his adversary's eyes.

This was too much for the captive boy to bear. "Stop it!" Tim screamed, kicking his feet against the bottom of the chair. "Stop it, Slade! I'm the one you want, not him!"

He heard the man chuckle softly behind his metallic cover. "The irony is overbearing. I sought one Robin and he refused my gratitude. Now I try to remove another Robin and he begs for submission."

Something was making Tim's flesh begin to crawl. That suspicious feeling made the hairs on neck stand as they did when something fishy was going on. He didn't think he wanted to know what Slade was talking about but he dared to ask.

"What are you taking about? What deal?"

Slade glanced from the tied up boy to the injured young man on the ground. "You mean, you never told him?" he asked Nightwing softly.

"Told me what?" Tim said. He looked down to see Nightwing's body jerk when he tried to move or exhale. His handsome face was marred with black and blue bruises and his lip was bleeding. He had probably fractured a rib in the fight.

"And he calls himself an honest crime fighter. Such a pity to be dishonest with others".

Slade grabbed Nightwing by the scruff of his neck and tossed him aside into a pyramid of metal cans. Then, as if he had grown weary of this game, he turned to face Tim and spoke four horrible words that sank into his stomach like stones:

"Nightwing was my apprentice."

Tim's blue eyes widened. He gasped in alarm.

"No . . ."

"Yes."

No way. It just wasn't possible, it couldn't be true! Nightwing would never work for a criminal, he'd rather die. He was too strong and righteous in Tim's eyes to succumb to such a disgusting action.

Nightwing struggled to his knees but Slade kicked him in the chest with one of those steel tipped boots. He doubled over in pain, pulling his knees into his chest.

"I made him betray his friends. I made him betray his father. I was his master and he was my slave, willingly and obediently."

"Liar," Tim retorted.

"No," Nightwing muttered under his breath. Blood was streaming from his nose down his face. "He's right."

"And you're dead meat!" came a younger but just as enraged voice. Beast Boy had morphed into a ferocious tiger and was circling Slade persistently. His cybernetic friend had also joined the fight on the platform. Cyborg's attention was directed towards Nightwing on the ground but the leader only waved a weary hand to Tim.

"Don't worry about me, get Tim," Nightwing muttered, putting both hands on the ground to propel himself up.

"Come on, Drake," Cyborg said behind him. One of his fingers twisted open revealing a tiny slim razor blade. "We gotta get you out of here."

Out of the corner of his eye Tim saw Slade fending off the green tiger with his fighting staff. He felt the vibration of the razor scrap against the ropes binding him. Cyborg quickly sawed through them and with a snapping sound, he had cut Tim loose. The boy began to massage his wrists at once.

"The T-ship, put him inside," Nightwing ordered Cyborg. "He'll be safe for now."

"And what about you?" Cyborg demanded.

Nightwing just drew the back of his hand across his mouth leaving a ragged red smear against his cheek. "I'll be fine," he said grimly.

Tim found himself being picked up by those muscular titanium-covered arms and before he could do anything, Cyborg was running away from the battle. "Hey!" Tim exclaimed.

"Sorry, kid. It's for your own good," he said. Cyborg leapt off the platform and landed on a side of the warehouse away from the droids. He started running towards the T-Ship with Tim in his arms like a teddy bear. When they finally reached the vehicle, Cyborg opened up the cover window and dropped Tim inside.

The boy landed in the cockpit's seat with a soft thump. "But what about Nightwing?" Tim asked. "I've got to help him!"

He looked up just as Cyborg had slammed down the window and locked it up.

"Hey! You Titans can't just leave me here!" Tim argued, banging fists against the window. But Cyborg had already left. Frustrated, he tried pressing the buttons on the control panel but none of them would work.

Tim pressed his hands and face to the glass. By squinting he could see Slade had wrestled with the green gorilla that was Beast Boy and gotten him into a headlock. Beast Boy made the mistake of trying to get in between morphing phases. In that split second, Slade had snatched a droid's laser gun and fried the gorilla. A defeated Beast Boy landed at his feet.

"No!" Tim gasped. Cyborg was also slammed back to the ground easily. Nightwing had struggled to his feet only to be answered with those steel-clad wrists in his face. From the way he was moving Tim guessed he had some critical injuries. Though he was holding out longer than most people would, Nightwing was certainly going to lose to Slade at some point or another.

Tim's palms were getting sweaty by now. His was shaking down to his bones with trembling wonder. The sky-blue eyes could not stop looking or playing over Nightwing's defeat again and again. Tim had to do something. He wanted to do something.

A new feeling was rushing through his blood madly. Tim couldn't recognize this new emotion that was bubbling up inside of him. What was this quivering sensation that was struggling to get out? Fear?

Tim's eyebrows went down and his teeth began to grind against each other.

No. Not fear, but something else.

Anger.

An anger upon realizing that his friend was being hurt by a criminal and he was just sitting here. An anger that made him want to do something to punish that madman.

"You're not really thinking of going out again, are you?" a giggly voice taunted him. Tim retracted his hands from the glass. JJ's chalky face and grotesque smile starred back at him.

"Yes," Tim said. The little clown's face in the window was looking more and more annoying with every passing second.

"Good luck, sucker. The last time you put on a mask it got you bashed," JJ snickered.

"Nightwing is hurt. I can't stand here and let Slade destroy him," Tim argued back.

"Oooh, what a good little boy you are," JJ cooed to him. "Tell me Tiny Tim, what are you going to do about it? Run crying to the Bat-fart or get a gun and blow Slade's head off like you did the other time?"

Tim's lips were trembling with vehemence. He wanted to answer but the words were chocked in his tight throat.

JJ started to chuckle. "The Joker's dead and he's taken Robin with him! Tiny Tim's alive but Robin's dead!" He burst out into uncontrollable jeers of laughter. "Ha ha ha! Robin's dead!"

He kept laughing. Tim's ears kept ringing.

What could he do? What should he do?

"A sacrifice can be noble, but not the sacrifice of a madman."

"Your heart is as black as mine."

"Robin does not give up. He does not cower into the shadows. His very name represents a legacy that you failed to uphold."

"He won't let me go! He won't let me go!"

"I believe that Robin is still alive inside of you somewhere."

"Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird . ."

"In your heart, don't you want to go on living?"

Tim slammed his hands onto the glove compartment in frustration. The compartment door flopped open causing something tumbled out onto his lap. His mouth hung open in alarm.

How? Just how was it possible?

He grabbed the fabric and held it up. Tim got a good look at the colors and the imprint of a familiar letter on the clothing. The mere touch of it was sending an electric current past his fingertips into his chest, spreading throughout his body with a surging energy that he once had before.

Was this a sign? Could he embrace his secret identity once again?

Tim thought about the fear that once chilled him to the bones. No longer did it seem to paralyze him with haunting memories. His anger, a hot bubbling source of courage, was coming back into him. It was pushing that fear and JJ back into the darkest corner of his mind. He slid a hand down his back feeling the scar on his skin.

Tim heard a high-pitched cry coming from outside the T-Ship. He could see Slade delivering punches and kicks to a much wounded Nightwing who was sprawled out on the ground. The sight of his older brother having his wings broken again and again was making that rush of blood flow through Tim's veins with unparalleled fury.

Dick needs me.

Tim started to pull off his t-shirt.

A-A-A-A

Nightwing's fingertips lightly touched his lower abdomen, feeling for a sign of severity in his injuries. He was answered with yet another a swift kick of Slade's boots to the flesh.

"Beg," Slade commanded him. "Beg for mercy and I might just spare you."

"I'd rather rot," Nightwing muttered loud enough for Slade to hear him. He spit a glob of blood and saliva at Slade's feet.

The tall man grabbed Nightwing by his long black hair lifting him a foot off the ground. Slade's eye starred into the masked ones of the Titans' leader. He raised a fist to deliver the final punch.

"That can be arranged."

Something small whizzed through the air slicing across Slade's chest. He let out a shout of astonishment causing him to release Nightwing. There was a tear in the black fabric across his stomach leaving a slim yet visible line of blood where the weapon had scraped down to his skin. Slade brought a hand to his chest, growling softly upon the realization that he had been attacked.

"Don't you know that you can't kill a robin?" a young perky but feisty voice piped up.

Nightwing lifted his head towards the voice. So did Slade.

"We never die. A robin only flies away where it's warm for the winter."

The metal weapon gracefully flew back into its master's open palm.

A small lanky teenager in a red and black uniform was standing on the catwalk. His yellow lined cape billowed out behind him. His eyes were covered in a black mask. A familiar symbol in the shape of a yellow R was imprinted over his heart.

Nightwing's chest contracted painfully. "Tim?" he whispered.

The newcomer jumped down, landing nimbly on his black booted feet. He placed both hands on his hips boldly.

"Robin," the boy announced.

He starred back at the two men with fierce determination clearly imprinted on his youthful face. Looking back, Tim never knew how he managed to muster up enough courage that night to put the mask back on. Perhaps, in the end, it was because he couldn't do it for himself alone but to save others-his friends.

The Titans' leader did not look too pleased with this transformation. He was mortified more than anything else. "Tim, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Nightwing hissed angrily.

"I'm putting another nail in the Joker's coffin," he answered back. Tim saw Slade cock his head to one side, surveying the newly changed boy. His left eye was taking it in, just looking at every detail on the new red-and-black Robin uniform with fascinating bewilderment yet interest.

"Amusing," Slade commented at last. "It seems that the name of Robin is indestructible."

He lunged for the boy. "Alas, Timothy, but you are not."

"I wouldn't bet on it!" Tim said, jumping back into an old yet familiar defense stance.

He knew this man had the upper hand when it came to strength and skills. But Tim's past training, though rusted from the Boy Wonder's time in dormancy, was still there in the back of his mind.

The traumatized Tim Drake was gradually dissolving away with the memories.

Robin was finally coming out after months and months of endless slumbers in fear and darkness.

He'd have to rely mostly on his nimbleness and chatter to keep himself at bay. Tim jumped up above Slade's grasp allowing himself to land safely on the other side. He had so many words that were pushing up out of his throat demanding to be spoken. He wanted all of them to be heard. Right now.

"You're right, Slade. I'm not like Nightwing at all," Tim began. "I'm not like any other Robin you'll ever meet."

He slid between the man's legs and quickly jumped onto the railing.

"I'm a mischief little elf that you just can't catch."

One of Tim's small boots swiftly kicked against the metallic rim of Slade's helmet. He heard the psychopath's voice react with alarm and saw him stagger back from the blow. Score another point for the kid.

Tim landed on his feet with fists clenched tightly. "I've stolen doughnuts from cops just to eat. My old man skipped town and left me to deal with Puke Face. I've been a pickpocket and a troublemaker from day one. But guess what? I'm still Robin."

Tim's hands went to his utility belt and he felt a tiny prick of panic. He only had two batterangs!

Better make the most of it, Tim told himself. His attention fell on something and he threw out one of the batterangs.

Slade saw the oncoming weapon and dodged out of the way smoothly. The batterang's target, however, went straight past him and sliced through the ropes holding up a stack of iron pipes. The metal tools fell from their position and into the path of the madman who was buried under them. It was music to Tim's ears when he heard the sound of those thick pipes clattering to the ground sending loud painful vibrations all over the warehouse.

Tim leapt down and walked up to the pile of pipes. "This isn't a self righteous fanatic justice-obsessed Robin that you're up against Slade," he said in a voice rising with courage. "I don't need a mask to make me a hero. I already am one!"

A large steel-encrusted wrist shot out of the pile of metal and grabbed Tim by the shirt. Slade emerged from his entrapped state with his eye was glowing like an angry cobra.

"And you're going to be a dead one," Slade warned him. Those massive hands had swiftly encircled Tim's neck, pushing him against the railing in a painfully tight block.

"Slade, no!" Nightwing yelled from behind them. "Please, I swear I'll do anything you want! Just let him go!"

"No, Nightwing. It's far too late for begging at this point in the game," Slade snarled.

Slade began to apply pressure to Tim's throat. The boy's face was starting to change color while his voice grew high and whispery. Tim was getting lightheaded. He could hear Slade's voice melt from its brittle harsh tones to a smooth eerie chuckle.

"I could crush you in an instant," he said softly.

Tim's fingers curled around the very last battering behind his back. He couldn't shake the man's grip, but he could at least give one good maneuver if he saved his energy. Yet how could you attack a mercenary whose entire body was protected in armor?

Slade's face was up against Tim, the midnight tinted eye leered into his young masked face cruelly.

No, not everything. Everyone has a weakness.

Wait, just wait. Tim's brain was wracking itself to focus on the target. This was the change he had to save Nightwing and himself. He had to concentrate on this moment that was dangling on his single strand of life.

"Any last words, Timothy?" Slade asked him.

"Yeah," Tim gasped, positioning his hand for this one and final shot.

"Peekabo."

With one final force, his arm reached up and he drove the batterang as far as it would go into Slade's left eye.

Tim really didn't want to know what he was feeling. But it certainly was a nasty squishy sound heard where the metal hit soft flesh instead of metal from his attack. Tim drove the batterang deep down into Slade's eye socket as far as it could go and tried not to think about the puncturing sound of guts he was creating until he had let go of the batterang.

He heard Slade roar in pain and saw thick crimson blood streaming down the side of his mask. The winged tip of the batterang was still embedded in that hole yet Slade's arms had lunged for Tim, even in his blinded state.

"I'll clip your wings!" he thundered, shaking Tim's body like a rag doll until his teeth rattled.

Then his stomach doubled up over again. Tim's mouth flew open uncontrollably and he braced himself for being strangled or losing his lunch all over the mercenary.

Everything happened so fast that Tim tried to remember but it was a blur. A million colors and voices were spinning around him faster and faster. He saw the green blaze of Starfire coming towards him, heard Nightwing giving orders, and finally noticed Raven had pulled him backwards and there was the rustling of her imperial blue cape against his body before she yelled:

"Azareth Metreon Zinthos!"

The ground vibrated under their feet. There was a powerful blast of wind and the Titans and Tim were all plunged back into a swirling black vortex. He shut his eyes to block out the dizziness and grabbed onto a handful of Raven's robe.

Within the blinking of an eye the motion sickness ride was over. Everyone landed on their feet clumsily, grabbing onto each other for support. They were standing on the bay that looked out onto Titans Tower under a soft lavender sunset.

"Everybody ok?" Nightwing spoke up.

Tim staggered back and forth. He discovered that he had been leaning on Raven's arm the entire time and there was a foul aftertaste in his mouth.

"I think I made a mess on your cape," he apologized.

"You didn't," she informed him. "That must have happened just before we teleported out."

"Robin?"

Tim whipped around automatically from Starfire's voice. He had been called Robin. She fell to her knees and hugged him tightly to her chest.

"You were so brave," she said in a chocked voice that was trying not to cry. "Thank you for assisting Nightwing."

Beast Boy starred at Tim. "If you just did, what I think you did, on who I think you did, then I have one thing to say."

"What?"

"Way to go, Robin!" he said with thumbs up. "You're the only Titan who's ever tossed cookies up in Slade's face! What a great victory!"

"Beast Boy, Starfire," Nightwing chastised them. "He's not Robin anymore. Tim's been retired. And he's not a Titan."

"But he puked on . ."

"Don't go there," Raven interrupted him.

Tim had heard what Nightwing had said: He's not a Titan.

It was a sudden puncture in the rush of excitement that he had just experienced. It bothered him. Yes, he wasn't a Titan. He knew that. But somehow, someway, it mattered to him; made him feel isolated from their team.

He's not Robin anymore.

But wasn't he?

Tim was wearing the uniform, yes, but it's only a mask to conceal the fear within. He was trembling all over with exhilaration that came after the rush of doing something that frightened him more than anything else on earth. But he had survived the crisis. Twice. Robin was still here.

Starfire rested a hand on his shoulder. "Timothy, are you all right?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Um, I'm ok. Really. I feel fine."

A-A-A-A

Some time later:

"But I'm telling you, I didn't do it," Nightwing argued against Tim. "You're the one that packed your bag, remember?"

"Then Alfred must've stuffed my uniform inside."

"Why'd he want to do that? You can be honest, Tim. I understand if you thought having it around would make you feel stronger."

"Dick, I'm not lying! I didn't put the suit in my bag, I swear it!"

"So if you didn't do it, then who did? Bruce would never . ."

"You must've stuffed it into the T-Ship when he wasn't looking."

'Tim, I-OW!"

Raven looked up from her dutiful job of examining his injuries. "It would be a lot easier if you'd sit still, Nightwing," she ordered him, dabbing the swab of iodine-soaked cotton at his skin.

Nightwing scowled but he stopped talking and slumped back in the chair, allowing her to finish the healing process. Tim watched Raven's fingertips lightly trail over Nightwing's slightly purple bruised arm. Her lips pursed up when her eyes scanned further down to his chest.

"You were lucky," Raven said. "Slade could have cracked your ribs in half."

The other Titans were all in the infirmary as they underwent the painstaking examination of their various wounds, bruises, and injuries. Nightwing, though the only member of the team with the most severe damage, had not surrendered to giving off a yelp of pain until just now.

His black uniform shirt was pulled up to neck while Raven was focusing her powers on his lower rib cage. Already a thick white bandage encircled Nightwing's abdomen while she used her powers to heal whatever internal injuries he might have.

Tim was sitting on one of the metal beds, swinging his legs back and forth while he watched with keen interest. Raven had pressed her index fingers together, and was now focusing on the bruised area while she chanted. A small cloud of black power materialized around Nightwing's waist for a moment. Raven continued to murmur words under her breath.

Finally she stopped chanting and the aura vanished. Tim noticed how the swelling had drastically gone down on Nightwing's skin.

Raven retracted her hands and stood up. "I'd suggest you don't hug him too hard," she cautioned Starfire. The alien girl nodded and just held Nightwing's hand for support.

"Thanks Raven," Nightwing said. His attention drifted from her to the newly resurrected Robin on the side. "Maybe you should take that uniform off," he told Tim.

"Can't I wear it a little longer?" he begged Nightwing. He had forgotten the firm feeling where the fabric hugged his body yet left him plenty of comfortable movement. He missed the bright beautiful red colors that made him so animated whenever he put it on.

Noticing the pleading look on Tim's face, Nightwing reluctantly consented to his wishes. "All right. But only for a little while longer. You-know-who will have a fit if he sees that."

"Is it true that you worked for Slade?" Tim suddenly piped up.

To be fair, he saw frustration flicker across Nightwing's face but he didn't seem annoyed with Tim as much as himself. "Yes," Nightwing answered. "But you must understand, Tim, that it was under his conditions."

"How?"

"Slade had secretly injected nanoprobes into our bodies without us knowing," Starfire explained. "Had Nightwing not complied with Slade's detestable orders, then we would all be dead."

It all sound too crazy to be true, but Cyborg nodded his head. "We've got a sample of the nanoprobes in the archives. Slade's technology can be very threatening."

"What kind of orders?" Tim asked.

"Stealing, mostly. Weapons from STAR Labs and new cloaking devices from Wayne Enterprise. Attacking and crippling any officers that dared get in my way. And he made me fight the Titans upon his command."

Tim frowned a bit. "How come you didn't you tell me?" he asked Nightwing.

Nightwing struggled to find the right words to say. At last, he exhaled and his shoulders slumped. "I wanted to be a good role model, Tim. I felt that you wanted to look up to someone," he said gravely. "I didn't want to let you down, knowing that I had spent time . . . as a criminal."

Tim mulled over his words for a moment.

"You never did, Nightwing. You'll always be a hero to me," he promised. The boy gave Nightwing a smile and a thumbs up which startled the Teen Wonder and made something stir inside of himself.

"Thanks, Tim," Nightwing said. "Thanks a million."

"That's him, our one-of-a-kind-tights-wearing-staff-welding-Kung-Fu-kicking leader for you," Beast Boy said proudly. The changeling started to pick at a neon-blue band-aid plastered over his right temple. "Now how about we order in a pizza?"

"Good idea," Cyborg said, glancing at their security screens. "Cuz we've got company coming now."

"Bumblebee wants a combat practice?" Nightwing suggested. "Sorry, but I'll sit this one out."

"No, it's a big black flying saucer."

Nightwing bolted up madly. "What? He's here now!"

Despite Starfire's protest he pulled his shirt down to cover his wounds and shoved his feet back into his combat boots. The Titans all ran off after Nightwing with Tim trailing behind, his cape flapping all the way.

A-A-A-A

The Batwing and its owner were standing on the roof.

Nightwing had been dashing up the steps before he came to a grinding halt that caused all of the Titans, and Tim, to crash into him. They saw Batman, dark and solemn as ever, on the other side of the playcourt and fell silent at once. Nightwing had known his mentor long enough to know when his silence meant everything was all right or something was deadly wrong.

Now he knew that he was in serious trouble.

He felt like he was walking to the gallows as he stepped forward with his friends. Nobody said a word. Then Beast Boy took one look at Batman and with a small squeak, turned around and ran back towards the entrance to the Tower.

Finally, Batman spoke. "Come here, Tim," he said coldly.

Nervously, Tim stepped out from beside Nightwing and crossed the playcourt until he was on the other side with Batman. The Dark Knight's penetrating stare was on Tim, looking up and down his costume with loathing hatred. The white slits in the cowl narrowed angrily when they rested on the yellow R badge.

Batman reached to Tim's face with a gloved hand and ripped the mask off his face. Tim felt his skin start to burn with shame.

"What are you doing in that uniform?" Batman demanded.

"Nightwing didn't make me do it. I chose to," Tim said boldly.

He grabbed Tim by the shoulder abruptly. "We're going home," he ordered Tim.

"But. ."

"NOW!" Batman thundered.

Tim reluctantly started towards the Batwing. Batman didn't follow him into the plane yet. He just walked up to Nightwing with his face set as hard stone and his black cape sweeping the ground like the Grim Reaper.

The Titans were all holding their breaths when they saw the their leader standing face to face with the enraged Dark Knight. Nightwing remained unflinching and as calm as ever.

"I'm extremely disappointed in you, Nightwing," Batman said in a cold controlled voice. "You gave me your word that nothing would happen to Tim, remember?"

"Yes, sir," Nightwing answered without a trace of emotion in his voice.

"But you've endangered his life and he was threatened by not one, but two dangerous criminals," Batman went on.

"How did you know that already?" Cyborg asked.

"I received the latest police report in Gotham," Batman answered with a slight turn of the head. "Twenty four of Two Face's men were found dead on the outskirts of town just an hour ago. Two Face himself had suffered severe spinal injuries and nearly had his neck broken."

"Slade," Nightwing said.

"Deathstroke the Terminator knows no mercy, Nightwing. You of all people should have known that. He could have killed Tim and even if he didn't, the boy could relapse into another crime-related shock attack!" Batman was finally mounting to the pinnacle of his anger.

"Before you go defending yourselves and saying that you rescued Tim in the end, let me say that he should never have been endangered in the first place. You went back on your word and have lost my trust. I knew this was a terrible idea from the start."

"Batman, its ok," Tim piped up behind him.

"This is not 'ok'," Batman snapped. "I know you'll think your fine but once we get back to Gotham, you're not leaving the house unless its for an appointment with Dr. Thompkins."

Tim's mouth fell open in horror. "No!"

"Yes."

"This isn't right for Tim," Raven said, stepping forward.

"With all due respect, Raven, I appreciate what you've done for Tim," Batman said in a cold civil manner. "But this debate does not concern you."

"I believe it does concern us, Batman," she said firmly. "Locking Tim up forever won't change his past, but it could damage his future."

"A future that I want to be better for him," Nightwing went on.

"And he fought most courageously against our enemy," Starfire added. "Perhaps he is stronger than he appears to be."

Batman waved a hand to silence the Titans' protests. "I've said enough. Tim is coming home with me." He started walking towards the Batwing. "And I will deal with you later," he added harshly to Nightwing over his shoulder.

"Wait!" Beast Boy called out. He came running back with a package in his hands.

"Excuse me, Batman, sir," he said feebly between puffing breaths of air. "Can't we just give Tim his good-bye present?"

The Dark Knight glared menacingly at Beast Boy who shrank back from the penetrating look. But he stuck out a skinny arm and handed a square package to Tim. The unmasked Robin accepted it willingly.

Tim took a deep breath and tore open the wrapping paper. His hands found the soft cotton fabric of a T-shirt. Unfolding it, Tim held up the shirt for everyone to see.

His eyes began to widen and his mouth trembled when he saw the letters painted on the shirt: I BARFED ON SLADE'S BOOTS AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT.

The boy began to shake. His fingers were quivering and he hugged the shirt to his chest. He didn't say anything. Batman saw the change in his face and reached out with one hand.

"Tim?"

The boy tilted his face up to the sky and exhaled. Then the most incredible amazing noise broke out from Tim's lips and fell onto the ears of Batman and the Titans:

Tim was laughing.

It was not the insane chuckling that had driven Tim into madness before. This was a deep heartfelt belly laugh that rang out from Tim's throat and filled his body with newborn energy. He was doubled over with that wonderful sound that kept coming from his mouth and making him clutch his stomach with delight.

Nightwing just stood there listening to the sound of Tim laughing over and over again. The contagious sound was already making Starfire giggle and Beast Boy snicker. One by one, the Titans were breaking out into constant laughter.

A year ago Batman would have considered this impossible. He would have never forgiven Nightwing or himself for jeopardizing Tim's life. But now, as he saw tears of real genuine happiness streaming from Tim's face, he saw the child finally coming back to life after the Joker had tried to kill everything good inside of Tim before.

Tim Drake was alive again.

Robin was alive again.

And Bruce knew in his heart that he would have willingly given up his entire empire and wealth down to the last dollar just to hear Tim laugh like that again. He bent down and carefully rested a gloved hand on Tim's shoulder.

"Batman," Tim finally gasped for breath. "I don't think it's going to do any good now". He wiped the tears off his flushed face. He saw his surrogate father fall to his knees and bring his arms around Tim, embracing him securely and with unparalleled gratitude. Tim heard something escape Bruce's throat, perhaps a gasp or a strain from his own tears that he had always refused to show.

"Father, I'm alive. I'm reborn. Robin is back."

"I told you he was just like a Titan," Beast Boy defended himself.

"I . ." Batman's voice trailed off. He broke the embrace and stood up. His lingering gaze on Tim lifted and slowly went from one Titans to another before resting on the black-haired young man.

"I believe I owe you an apology," he said to Nightwing.

"Apology accepted," Nightwing answered.

"I still want you to continue seeing Leslie," Batman told Tim. The boy nodded willingly and rubbed his wet cheeks.

"Does that mean I can go back to being . ."

"We'll see," came the answer. "But if you want to keep fighting, I know I can't stop you now. You must get all of your strength back."

Tim nodded eagerly.

"Right. So, when are you going to pull down our Tower?" Cyborg asked casually.

Batman shook his head wearily. "It doesn't matter anymore. You'd just build it up again, just as strong."

"That we would," Starfire nodded bravely. "Yet now I fear it is time to bid Timothy goodbye."

Tim crossed the rooftop back to the Titans for the last time. He exchanged high fives with Beast Boy, thanking him for the shirt. Cyborg got him into a light headlock and rubbed his knuckles across Tim's scalp just enough without scrapping his skin.

Tim was getting a "puppy dog" look on his face, making Raven wince when her turn came. "No offense, Tim," she said with her hands waving out defense. "I'm not really the hugging . ."

He threw his arms around her neck and embraced her tightly, catching Raven completely off guard. Her eyes flew open and a gasp escaped her lips from the loving gesture.

"Thank you, Moonchild," he whispered. The corners of Raven's mouth started to pull up into a smile that only he could see.

Starfire was the opposite when she said goodbye. The alien had to be careful not to crush Tim's ribs when she hugged him. Tim caught the scent of earth's fragrant flowers in her hair. A tear formed out of the edge of her emerald eye yet came no further.

"Goodbye, Briar Rose," he said.

"Farewell, Robin," she answered back. "We will see you again, someday. That I know."

A-A-A-A

One week later:

Leslie was finishing up the medical record when she heard the knock on the door.

"Come on in," she said, still scribbling down the last few lines of information. The door creaked open followed by a rich smell of cinnamon and hot coffee that drifted into the room.

"I hope there's no peanut butter in those," she warned without looking up. "Some of the children are allergic too . ."

Leslie looked up and the pen fell from her limp hand.

"Oh my god," she gasped.

"Good morning, Leslie," Tim smiled from the doorway. He was balancing two piping hot cups in one hand and holding a paper bag of muffins in the other. His thick shiny black hair was combed neatly, a smattering of brown freckles was spread across the bridge of his nose, and his cheeks glowed from the cool wind of Gotham's streets.

But it was his eyes that caught Leslie's attention. They twinkled with a familiar animation that she thought had been lost so long ago. Now the two sky-blue pools reflected Leslie's face with restored life and hope.

"Tim! You're, you're . . ."

"I'm hungry. How about you?" he asked. "I still think coffee tastes like chalk but you can have some of my hot chocolate if you want". Tim balanced the cups back and forth as he walked up to Leslie's desk and set them down.

Leslie pulled off her glasses, rubbed eyes, and continued to stare at Tim.

"I've heard of medical miracles before but this is unheard of. Just looking at you, I'd think you were . . were. ." She couldn't find the words to describe it. "Just what on earth were you doing with Richard?"

Tim shrugged. "Just a little beach air, I guess. Now how about that peanut butter muffin?"

In between bites of a late brunch, Tim followed his doctor's instructions. They went over his usual exercises and as Leslie had hoped, Tim had made excellent progress. She could see it in his eyes, his smile, and his rosy cheeks. His voice didn't have the exact same sharp mischief sound in it that he had two years ago, but it was defiantly good to hear Tim laughing again.

They even took a break while the boy started up with his story of his adventure with the Titans from his very arrival on the rooftop down to Beast Boy's present to him. Leslie listened with great interest along the way to hear about the Tower, video games, ice cream, and a supernatural team of the most wonderful Adolescent Avengers.

"I have to say, Tim, that after your time in Jump City it sounds like you're going to need a real vacation."

Leslie handed Tim a porcelain mask that he turned over in his hands. She watched his brow crease in thought before he spoke.

"I still think JJ is inside of me sometimes," he said at last. "But so is Robin. And I don't have to be as scared about what I might become cuz I know I can handle it. That's something that the Titans taught me."

"Just to make sure," Leslie cautioned as she reached for her drawer. Tim didn't flinch even when she put the music box back on her desk and open it up. The same familiar haunting song began to play:

Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird don't sing

Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring

To be fair, she saw something flicker across Tim's face. He gripped the edge of his chair quickly.

"Tim?"

Instead of relapsing into a state of shock, he closed his eyes and began to sing a different song:

When the red, red robin comes Bob, bob bobbin' along, along,
There'll be no more sobbing when he starts throbbing
His own sweet song.

Tim took a deep breath and continued:

Wake up, wake up, you sleepy head,
Get up, get up, get out of bed,

Leslie listened to the words before her lips parted and she finished up the rest of the nostalgic song singing, "Cheer up, cheer up. The sun is red . . live, love, laugh and be happy."

"Did you feel any fear when you became Robin again that night?" she asked him when they were done.

"Yeah, I did. But I was even more scared of letting Dick down. I guess I had to want it bad enough to come out," Tim suggested. He leaned forward and placed his hands on his kneecaps. "Leslie, do you think it had to take a big shocker like that to get me back?"

"It's hard to say, Timothy," Leslie answered. She slid her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose.

"I want to go back to being Robin. It's the only way I can stand up and save myself," Tim announced boldly.

Leslie took off her glasses. "What does Bruce say?"

Tim paused. "I don't think he'll let me do any active duty for several months. But he says it's ok if I monitor from the cave with Batgirl. What do you say?"

"I have to agree with Bruce that you can't rush your body into this or don a costume for a good long time until your condition is stable enough," Leslie said slowly, studying his medical records. "Perhaps not even for another four to six months."

Tim opened his mouth to protest but she had already leaned forward and gazed into his eyes with her own with crystal-gray ones.

"But I have the suspicion that Robin is already back," Leslie whispered with a smile.

A-A-A-A

Tim ran out of the clinic and down the block to the waiting limousine where Alfred was going to pick him up. He was in such a hurry that he turned around the corner and crashed into someone.

She gave a yelp and dropped a pouch held in her right hand. The contents spilled out onto the sidewalk, scattering at their feet.

Tim straightened up and held the girl's shoulder to balance her. "Oh man, I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to . ."

The girl looked up at him and into his eyes. Tim's breath was caught in his throat when he met a familiar pair of pale azure orbs and golden-fringed bangs.

"S-Stephanie!" he blurted out.

The girl raised a blonde eyebrow in bewilderment. "Are you a psychic or something?" she asked him.

"I, I saw your face. . in a window .. the Jump City Mall," he stammered.

Stephanie cocked her head to one side allowing her hair to tumble over her slender shoulder. She studied Tim's face for a moment and then her eyes brightened up. "I saw you too," she said at last. "With your friends. In the Fashionably Fabulous store."

"Yeah! You remember," Tim said, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair. Was it combed right? Did Stephanie think he was a geek?

Then Tim's attention drifted downwards when he saw the mess on the ground.

"Oops," Tim said. "Sorry about that too." He bent down and began to help her gather the small colorful glass balls.

"Its ok. They don't break easily anyhow."

"You like marbles?" Tim asked. Stephanie winked an eye and dropped a handful of the red and yellow gems into her sack. She had a dimple on each side of her face when she smiled.

"Yeah, I do. I know they're just for little kids . . but I've got a few secrets up my sleeve."

She gave a soft merry laugh that tickled Tim's now reddened ears. He dropped some glossy blue marbles into her bag. Stephanie tied it shut and they both stood up slowly, starring at each other.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, um .. I'm Tim Drake."

"Tim. Nice to meet you," Stephanie said. She put offered her hand and he shook it nervously. Tim cleared his throat, trying to find something else to talk about.

"Um, yeah. Well. ."

Stephanie had pulled a pen and a small strawberry-shaped eraser out of her pocket. Tim watched, rather puzzled, as she wrote something on the eraser and then unexpectedly took Tim's wrist and dropped it inside of his hand.

"Bye!" she said over her shoulder just before running off. Tim watched her head of blonde hair get smaller and smaller until she turned off a street and disappeared.

The gleaming black car had pulled up next to him and blown its horn at Tim.

"Master Timothy?" Alfred asked as he pulled down the window. "Are you all right?"

Tim was still starring off even as he got inside the car. Alfred stepped on the gas and they pulled out of the area and onto Park Avenue. Inside the limo, Tim sank back into the luxurious leather seat, turning the pink pearly eraser over in his fingers and reading the message in thick blue ink:

Stephanie Brown

555-3910

Call me!

"Stephanie Brown," he said aloud. Tim liked the way "Ste-pha-nie" sounded when the name came out of his mouth. His fingers closed with delight over the gift.

"Dare I ask who this Ms. Brown is," Alfred asked from the driver's seat.

Tim quickly pocketed the eraser. "Just a girl, Alfred," he explained abruptly. The butler glanced at Tim's reflection in the rear view mirror, a merry twinkle in his eyes.

Master Timothy looked far better than he had in months; that was for certain. "Just a girl indeed," Alfred said with a chuckle, turning the driver's wheel to the right.

Tim's heart was beating slightly faster now.

What if I've been blue?
Now I'm walking through fields of flowers,
Rain may glisten, but I still listen for hours and hours.
I'm just a kid again, doing what I did again, singing a song,
When the red, red robin comes bob, bob bobbin' along.

-Al Jolson

A-A-A

"So where's Two Face now?" Nightwing asked him.

"Puke Face is taking the month off in the Stonegate hospital," Tim said over the phone. "I don't think he'll be doing much golf lately."

"Good. That's another madman off the street," Nightwing said with relief.

"But Slade got away," Tim pointed out. He shifted the receiver to his left shoulder so that he could finish unpacking with both hands.

"It doesn't matter. You stood up to him and wounded Slade's pride. If I know him, he'll be nursing that wounded ego for a very long time."

"So he just bumped off Puke's men and took his money?" Tim asked. His eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"A consolation prize," Nightwing suggested. "Slade won't stand for total failure. At the minimum, he's got to win something back after he was humiliated."

"What a sore loser," Tim said. "I really scared him, huh?"

"You've outdone his expectations. Mine too."

Tim stopped taking out his shirts and sat down on the bed.

"Thanks, Nightwing. I needed that."

There was silence on the other end.

Then he heard Nightwing's voice say, "Did you put away all of your stuff?"

Tim almost dropped a pair of socks. "No, why? Is there something I should-"

Click!

A rather started Tim looked at the phone. Nightwing had hung up on him. "That's funny," he muttered to himself. "Maybe the Titans just got an emergency call."

Not wanting to keep his dirty laundry gathering fumes for Alfred, Tim got back to work on his suitcase. No more than three minutes passed when the phone rang again. Tim let it go until there was a knock on his door. Alfred leaned his head inside the boy's room.

"Forgive the interruption, Master Timothy, but you have a phone call from Metropolis."

Tim picked up the phone again and put it to his ear. "Hello?"

"I wanna talk to Tim! I wanna talk to Tim!"

"Get off, Bart. I go first."

"You're always first, Kent."

"Excuse me, but who's paying for this phone call?"

Somebody sighed in the background.

There was a shuffling sound followed by the scratching motion of someone putting the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Drake. How's Jump City holding up?"

"You won't believe it," Tim said.

"Try me," Conner shot at him. "You missed this awesome fight over here when Braniac came into town against Superman. Talk about a fried satellite! Its going to take the city a few weeks to get all the power back so we've been doing some 'super secret clean up' duty while no one's been watching."

"Sounds good to me."

"And what about you?" Conner asked.

"I got taken hostage by a mercenary who tried to beat Nightwing to a stuffing. Then I stabbed in him the eye and accidentally puked on him."

"Cool!" another voice spoke up from the receiver.

"Bart, it's not your turn yet—oomph!"

The receiver switched talkers.

"Maru de kurai daichi ni saku akai bara no you ni sa," Bart sang slightly off key. "Its no good, Tim. I'm hooked."

"I thought you'd like it," Tim grinned.

"What? Singing techno pop songs done by adorably cute girls that I can't even talk to? Hello, I haven't even been to Tokyo yet!" Bart Allen yelped. "No more CDs from you, ok?"

"Fair enough. Nightwing's a great leader but he knows zip about good music."

Tim was starting to open his smaller bag when he lifted it up and down for a minute. It felt heavier than the last time he held it. Curiously, the black-haired boy pulled down the zipper and looked inside.

"Hey!"

"Whatsa matter, Drake? They put snakes in your bag?" Conner teased through the receiver.

"No . ." Tim pulled out some new brightly wrapped packages. "I think they're presents." Lo and behold, there were names printed on each of them: Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire.

"How about Bird Brain?" Bart wanted to know.

"Nightwing's done a ton for me already," Tim pointed out. "He's probably going halfsees on this stuff."

They chatted a bit more until Conner realized that he was running out of minutes. The boys quickly made a date to meet up in Gotham next Thursday to discuss future plans. The livid trio exchanged good-byes and then Tim hung up.

He pulled paper off the no-longer secretive gifts and studied each one with amusement.

Cyborg bought Tim a hand held Game Station with Mini Monkeys Four, the miniature game version of Mega Monkeys. Raven had given Tim a pendant that he was to hang over his bed like a dream catcher. Starfire's present was a potted plant and a stuffed animal that looked like Silkie. Beast Boy had given him the King Kong lamp.

He found himself yawning and flexing his arms over his head. Things had been pretty busy lately. He wanted to get a good night's sleep before tomorrow. Eyeing the Silkie "plushie", Tim picked it up and placed it near his pillow. It just might come in handy tonight.

Tim put his hand back into the bag for the last time to retrieve his toothbrush. Instead, he found a white envelope at the bottom. He tugged it out and read the message inside:

When there's trouble, you know who to call.

-R

Yet again, Tim reached inside and was surprised to feel a thin round circular device placed at the bottom of the duffel bag. Tim's fingers curled around the object tightly and he pulled it out.

It was a Teen Titan communicator.

END

"Everyone is necessarily the hero of his own life story"

-John Barth