Disclaimer: The characters and situations depicted here are the property of DC 
Comics. I have used them without consent, for entertainment purposes only. No 
profits are being made.

8/23/02


SOFTLY COMES THE NIGHT
By Libby (scooterkitty@comcast.net)

***

	The brisk, late October night air ruffled Robin's yellow cape and tickled 
the light hairs on his bare legs. The view from the rooftop of the seventy-story 
Marshall Tower was quite impressive. Gotham City lay spread out before him in 
all its glittering glory. From this high up all one could see was the lights of 
the city, the sparkle of moonlight on the nearby harbor and the vague outlines 
of the buildings. You couldn't see the dirty streets, the congested sidewalks, 
or the sinister figures lurking in the shadows.

	The night had been fairly quiet, an oddity for Halloween, especially when 
it fell on a Friday. Expecting the night to be much more busy, Batman had asked 
Batgirl to join them on their rounds, but so far, there had been very little for 
the red-haired beauty to do.

	Robin shot a furtive glance in her direction. She looked absolutely 
radiant, with the sharp wind blowing back her hair and bringing a flush to her 
pale cheeks. An excited smile graced her face and her green eyes glittered in 
the moonlight. She didn't appear to mind the interruption of her college studies 
in the least.

	"Well, let's make a last pass by St. Peter's Cemetery," Batman said, 
interrupting Robin's thoughts. "It's a favorite spot for trouble-makers on 
Halloween night. If everything is as quiet there, as it has been everywhere 
else, we'll call it a night early."

	"Maybe you can still get a few hours of studying in after all," the masked 
vigilante added to the young woman beside him.

	"On Halloween? On a Friday night?" the girl asked incredulously. "I don't 
think so. My roommates are throwing a costume party, so I don't think I'll get 
much studying done for my medieval literature test, even if we do call it quits 
early. Beer and Beowulf just don't mix… Well, then again, maybe that just 
depends on what fraternity you belong to."

	"Yes, well, maybe you could join your friends for the festivities."

	"Yeah, and since I don't have a costume, I could just go like this," she 
said brightly, gesturing to her crime-fighting uniform.

	Batman gave her a sharp look.

	"Just kidding," the girl said quickly. "Let's go."

	The two younger crime-fighters held back a moment after their mentor had 
deployed his jumpline and leaped into the night. 

	"Well, somebody's in Grumpy-Bat Mode," Batgirl said quietly to Robin.

	"When isn't he?" the boy responded.

	"True, but you'd think he could lighten up once in a while, like tonight, 
when things are quiet."

	The younger boy gave her a look that clearly said, fat chance.

	"Right," the girl said with a sigh.

	"After you, good sir," she continued, gesturing grandly toward the edge of 
the building.
	"Oh, no, ladies first, I insist," the boy said with a dramatic bow.

	"You are too kind."

	Leaping together, they soared out over the busy streets far below. 

~*~*~*~

	Alighting on the ground, just outside of the tall, ornate, wrought iron 
gates of St. Peter's Cemetery, Robin and Batgirl glanced around for their 
mentor. Dense, overgrown shrubs lined the iron fence on both sides of the gate 
and the streetlights here were notorious for the fact that they rarely ever 
worked. All of which gave the cemetery a creepy, horror-movie-set kind of feel. 
Which, of course, was what made it so popular with the low-lifes, that, and the 
fact that it was one of the oldest and largest cemeteries in the entire state of 
New York.  Many of the original Puritan settlers were buried here. It was even 
rumored that a few condemned witches were buried here.

	"What took you two so long?" a low voice rasped from behind the two young 
vigilantes, startling both of them.

	"Oh, Jeez!" Batgirl gasped, pressing a hand over her rapidly beating 
heart. "Could you, maybe, not do that?"

	Seeing that the tall, dark-caped man's eyes were narrowed at her 
suspiciously, waiting for an answer to his question, Batgirl began to grow 
uncomfortable. Wherever Robin was involved, she always felt that the Dark Knight 
just didn't quite completely trust her.

	"We, uh, took a little detour, down by 9th street. We just wanted to take 
a quick peek at the drag queens in all their … holiday finery."

	She took a quick glance over at her fellow miscreant and saw that his head 
was bowed as he tried desperately to hide his smirk.

	Batman made a noise that sounded something like a cross between a sigh and 
a growl. "There's a car parked on that side street and there's someone inside 
the cemetery. Let's go. Try to keep up this time."

	As soon as his back was turned, Batgirl stuck her tongue out at the ever-
serious crime-fighter. She heard the slight hiss of Robin's suppressed laugh 
behind her as they trailed after the large shadow of their mentor. He led them 
to a section of the fence that was badly rusted and had been bent back. This 
section was hidden behind a particularly large bush, so it would be easy to miss 
if one didn't know that it was there. This was evidently how everyone managed to 
bypass the locked front gates. 

	Just managing to squeeze his broad, muscular frame through the narrow 
opening, Batman entered the cemetery.  He waited on the other side for Batgirl 
and Robin to join him. They both slipped through much quicker and easier. The 
three spread out to cover a wider area in their sweep through the grounds, but 
stayed close enough to maintain visual contact with each other. 

	Seeing faint light coming from behind a large, tall cluster of trees and 
shrubs ahead of them, Batman gestured for Robin and Batgirl to circle around the 
bushes to the right, while he would take the left. Rounding his side of the 
hedges before the younger members of his team, Batman was the first to come upon 
the grisly scene.

	Two teen-agers, a boy and a girl, lay tangled together, their combined 
blood staining the grass beneath them black. The boy's wrists had been slashed, 
while the girl had an ugly wound at her chest. The bloody knife was still 
clutched in the dead boy's hand. Spray painted in white, on the grass nearby, 
was a large, upside-down, five-pointed star, surrounded by a circle. A single, 
propane lamp provided the dim light that had attracted the team's attention. 

	"Wow, he must have killed her and then killed himself," Batgirl said 
softly, walking up to join the elder vigilante.

	Batman glanced up quickly at her arrival. In his shock at the scene before 
him, he had momentarily forgotten about his two younger partners. Batgirl seemed 
to be handling the situation well. She was already kneeling beside the bodies, 
examining them for clues, careful not to touch or disturb the crime scene.

	Robin was another matter. The sixteen-year-old crime-fighter stood well 
back from the bodies, staring wide-eyed, and his face pale, looking terribly 
young and vulnerable. Glancing down at the two bodies, Batman realized that the 
two teens were probably very close to Robin's age. Batman dearly wished that the 
boy had not seen this. It was one thing for him to be exposed to the violence 
and ugliness perpetrated by adults, but it was something else for him to see it 
done by his own peers. Weren't children supposed to be innocent and sheltered? 
Despite their occupation, Batman had done his best to keep Robin that way. 
Tonight, he had failed badly. Not only had he failed to protect this innocent 
girl from a predatory male, but he had also failed to prevent Robin from bearing 
witness to the consequences of that failure.

	"What's that?" the boy whispered dazedly, pointing at the star symbol.

	"It's a pentacle," Batgirl answered. "It's a symbol of evil."

	"Actually, it's a pentagram," Batman corrected, his voice soft. "With a 
pentacle, the 'head' of the star is at the top. With a pentagram the 'head' is 
at the bottom. It's essentially an upside-down pentacle, which is a positive 
symbol. The pentagram is the symbol of Satan."

	"Are you thinking, what I'm thinking?" Batgirl asked, glancing up at her 
mentor. "Like maybe, the girl was supposed to be some kind of virgin sacrifice? 
Maybe she put up too much of a fight. Maybe he just couldn't handle what he'd 
done."

	For a split second, Batman wanted to throttle the red-haired young woman. 
How could she talk about these two children so callously while Robin stood 
nearby, visibly shaken by the entire scene? But then he reminded himself that 
she was kneeling with her back to the boy. She couldn't see how ashen his face 
was. Batman knew that she would never do anything deliberate to hurt the boy. 
Regardless, he needed to get Robin away from this scene.

	"Robin, I need you to radio the police. Tell them to send an ambulance. 
Tell them, we've got two D.O.A.s," Batman said. "There are a lot of trees around 
us. Why don't you go outside the cemetery and make the call. I think the signal 
will reach better. We'll meet you by the front gates in a few minutes."

	"Yes sir," the boy whispered before turning and heading toward the break 
in the fence where they had entered.

	That wasn't a good sign, Batman thought. Normally the boy put up an 
argument if he thought he was being coddled or sheltered from something. The 
fact that he didn't this time showed just how upset this whole thing had made 
him. Batman had always assumed that as the boy got older and more mature, the 
emotional aspects of their work would get better. The boy would be able to 
handle things better. But instead things seemed to be getting worse. The boy had 
frequent bouts of moodiness. He was starting to show definite streaks of 
independence, unfortunately, often at the most inopportune times. And worst of 
all, he had begun to keep things from his mentor.

	For instance, only the year before, the boy had had some sort of run-in 
with Catwoman. And while he had managed to apprehend the feline thief, the 
incident had still left him in mild shock, with a concussion and a separated 
shoulder. Batman had never gotten the boy to tell him exactly what had happened 
that night.  He was at a complete loss over how to deal with any of this.

	"Huh, take a look at this," Batgirl said, interrupting the Dark Knight's 
dark thoughts. "Look at the way their bodies are positioned. They're all tangled 
up together, like they were still struggling with each other right up until they 
both died. His right hand is holding the knife. His left hand is still holding 
onto her wrist. There's no way he could have stabbed her and then slashed his 
own wrists. He must have slashed his wrists first and then stabbed her, but why 
would he do that?"

~*~*~*~

	After making the call to the police with the small transmitter on his 
utility belt, Robin began pacing, agitated, back and forth in front of the 
gates. What is the matter with me? he asked himself. It's not like I haven't 
seen dead bodies before. Why am I so upset about these two?

	Because they're probably the same age as me, he realized, because they 
could have gone to my school. They look just like countless other kids I pass in 
the halls every day. How many of them also harbor homicidal and/or suicidal 
tendencies? It was quite a disquieting thought.

	And then there was the girl. He couldn't get her image out of his mind. 
With her long, straight, dark hair and grayish-green eyes, she probably would 
have been very pretty. That is, if she didn't have that gaping wound in her 
chest or if her skin didn't have the gray pallor of death.

	A sudden wave of nausea rose up in the back of the boy's throat. Breathing 
deeply, he sat down quickly near the bushes by the gate and put his head down 
between his knees. I will not get sick, I will not get sick, he whispered to 
himself, despite feeling a bead of cold sweat trickle down his temple.

	"Hey, are you okay?" a soft, female voice asked.

	Oh God, the boy thought, mortified, not Barbara. Please don't let it be 
Barbara. It's bad enough that she saw me after that humiliating incident with 
Catwoman, but now this too. She's gonna think I'm the biggest wuss in the world.

	Slowly, he lifted his head to turn and look at the person who addressed 
him. He was relieved to see that it was not Batgirl. It was a young girl about 
his age with long, straight, dark hair and a pretty, oval-shaped face. Robin 
felt the blood drain from his face as he realized that, although the wound in 
her chest seemed to have mysteriously disappeared, this was the same girl that 
he had just seen lying, dead, in a pool of her own blood. He also noticed a sort 
of slight, shimmering, silver aura surrounding her. He felt a cold lump of fear 
solidify in his stomach and he was sure that if he had been standing, his legs 
would have been shaking.

	"Mulo," he whispered, scooting back away from the apparition, while 
reflexively holding his right hand out in a gesture that Gramma Lilya had always 
taught him would protect him from evil influence.

	The girl's brow knit together in irritation. "What did you just call me?" 
she asked.

	Seeing that his protective gesture was having no effect on the girl, Robin 
lowered his arm.

	"Uh, s-sorry," he stammered softly, his heart still pounding loudly in his 
ears. "I called you a mulo. It's the Romany word for ghost."

	"Oh. Yeah, I guess I am," the girl said, glancing down at her softly 
shimmering body. "What kind of a word did you say that was? Roman?"

	"No, Romany, um, … Gypsy."

	"Oh. You're Gypsy?"

	"Yeah."

	"Cool."

	"Yeah," Robin breathed, not really sure how else to respond to this 
completely surreal conversation. "Wh-what happened to you? We found your body 
and you had been stabbed and-."

	"Um, I don't really want to talk about that right now," the girl 
interrupted.

	"Okay."

	"So, am I the only one you've seen? I mean, you haven't… seen Todd around, 
have you?"

	"Todd? The boy you were with? Uh, no, I've only seen you."

	"Oh, so then, he lived?"

	"…No, he didn't."

	"So, then he must have… moved on…"

	"Yeah, I assume so."

	"Oh, then I'm all alone."

	"Well, would you have wanted him to be with you? I mean, he did this to 
you."

	This seemed to confuse her and she had to think for a moment before 
responding. "Well, I guess some company is better than being alone, you know?"

	"Yeah, I guess. Um, so, what's your name?"

	The girl moved to sit down on the grass across from him. "Tammy, Tammy 
Scarsdale. What's yours?"

	"Robin."

	Noticing the way the boy was dressed for the first time, Tammy said, "Oh! 
You're THAT Robin. As in Batman and …?"

	"Yeah."

	"Wow, that's really cool."

	"Yeah." Again, the boy didn't quite know how to respond to this statement. 
The girl seemed to be taking the whole death/ghost thing quite well, so he 
didn't want to say or do anything that would upset her. He was freaked out 
enough himself, without having to deal with a hysterical ghost, as well.

	"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" the girl asked despondently.
	
	"I don't really know. I guess we should contact your family."

	"Robin? Who are you talking to?" another female voice called from behind 
him.

	The boy whirled around to find Batgirl watching him closely, concern 
plainly evident on her face. He gestured to the apparition across from him. 
Batgirl glanced in the direction to which he pointed, then back at him. It was 
obvious from her expression that she saw nothing.

	"I don't think she can see me," Tammy said.

	And since Batgirl did not react to a disembodied voice, she obviously 
couldn't hear Tammy either.

Climbing to his feet and thinking quickly, the boy said, "I was just thinking 
out loud. We should probably contact the parents of those kids."

	"The police will deal with that when they get here and determine who those 
kids are. We couldn't find any I.D. on either of them… Are you okay? You look 
pretty pale."

	"Yeah, I'm fine."

	"Are you sure?" she said, moving closer to him. "Listen, if you want to 
talk-."

	She was interrupted by the distant sound of approaching sirens. A moment 
later, Batman appeared beside them.

	"There's nothing more for us to do here," he said. "The police can take 
over. Let's get back to the Batmobile."

	Noticing that Batman did not seem to see the ghost-girl either, Robin 
glanced over at Tammy, but she was gone. Looking around quickly, he couldn't see 
her anywhere.

	Maybe I just hallucinated the whole thing, he thought, suddenly feeling 
light-headed.

	"Robin, is something wrong?" Batman asked, his voice unusually gentle.

	"No, everything's fine," the boy said quickly. "Let's go."

	Great, he thought, as he readied his grappling line, now Batman thinks I'm 
losing it, too.

~*~*~*~

	They had left the Batmobile and Batgirl's motorcycle hidden in an alley in 
the warehouse district. Arriving back at the vehicles, the team found that the 
telecommunicator in the Batmobile was already beeping loudly. Seating himself in 
the sleek, black, custom car, Batman activated the telescreen. Almost instantly, 
the face of a beautiful, blonde woman appeared on the screen.

	"Batman, thank goodness, I've been trying to contact you for over an 
hour," the blonde woman said urgently.

	"Black Canary," the Dark Knight intoned calmly in his trademark deadpan. 
"What is it?"

	"We've got a crisis here at the Watchtower. We need you here right away, 
as in, yesterday."

	"I see," he sighed. 

Damn, he swore silently. He had been hoping for an early evening. He had been 
hoping to have a long talk with Dick. The boy was obviously still shaken up by 
what they had found in the cemetery. He had wanted to try and help him come to 
terms with this. Unfortunately a global crisis was something he couldn't ignore. 
Justice League matters always had to take precedence.

"Very well, Canary, I'll be there as quickly as I can," he said.

"Great, I'll let Superman know." 

The woman's image faded as the screen returned to black. Batman turned to face 
his two young partners who were standing by the open car door.

"Well, you heard her. I'll have to leave at once. Robin, advise Alfred, he knows 
what arrangements to make if I can't make it back by Monday morning. Batgirl, 
can you give Robin a ride back to WayneTech headquarters? There's a spare 
motorcycle in the parking garage."

"No problem, Boss," the red-head said with a grin, throwing an arm around the 
boy's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "I'll make sure our little birdie gets 
home in one piece."

Noting the way the masked vigilante's eyes narrowed, the girl let her arm slide 
from Robin's shoulder and took a discreet step away from him.

Turning back to the boy, Batman asked, "Are you going to be all right, Robin?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry, everything's just fine. The JLA needs you."

"All right, we'll talk later, when I get back," the elder crime-fighter said as 
he settled back into the seat of the car.

"Sure," the boy agreed, knowing full well that "later" would most likely never 
come.

Closing the door and turning the ignition, Batman brought the vehicle roaring to 
life. In a blast of searing heat and jet engines, the batmobile sped off into 
the night. Once they were alone, Batgirl turned to her fellow junior crime-
fighter, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"So, looks like somebody's got the rest of the night off, and the night's still 
young," she said, with a smile. "Alfred won't be expecting you home for a few 
hours yet. Wanna go to a party? College girls…"

"No, I don't think so," the boy said. "I'm not really feeling up to it and 
Batman would kill me if he ever found out."

"You sure?" she asked. 

She had been hoping to cheer him up. He had seemed so serious and ill at ease 
since they had left the cemetery. She had hoped the party would provide some 
distraction for him. She was certainly not going to let him drink and she had 
been entirely joking with the "college girls" remark. She would have killed any 
tramp who dared to lay a hand on the boy. 

"Yeah, I'm sure," Robin said. "I just want to go home."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay."

Climbing onto the dark blue motorcycle, she opened a side storage compartment 
and took out her helmet, as well as a spare. She tossed the spare helmet to the 
boy and kicked the cycle's engine to life. Robin's stomach did a couple of 
somersaults as he climbed on behind her and reached out to lightly clasp 
the young woman's slender waist. He knew that sitting so close to Barbara, and 
in such a suggestive position, was going to be torture. He said a quick, but 
fervent, prayer that his hormone-charged, adolescent body wouldn't do anything 
to embarrass him.

As it turned out, he had nothing to worry about. His body didn't have time to 
get any ideas of its own. He was too busy just hanging on for dear life as they 
hurled, at break-neck speeds, towards mid-town and the financial district, where 
WayneTech headquarters was located.

Arriving at the underground parking garage for WayneTech, Batgirl bypassed the 
public entrance, which had a gate and a full-time security guard and headed for 
Batman's personal, secret entrance that led to another, deeper underground 
parking area. This was Batman's personal parking space. There were numerous 
vehicles of various types and styles parked here. Another dark blue motorcycle, 
very similar to Batgirl's, sat waiting.

As Robin stepped away from the bike and handed the helmet back to Batgirl, she 
said, "Okay, last chance, Wonder Boy, you sure you're alright?"

The boy didn't respond right away. Frankly, he wasn't sure what to say. He still 
felt a little shaky and light-headed, but at least he wasn't hallucinating any 
more dead girls. No, he decided, he had embarrassed himself enough already 
tonight; he didn't need to add any more.

"Yeah," he finally answered. "I'm okay."

"You sure…?"

"Yeah," he repeated, although evidently not enthusiastically enough for Batgirl.

Climbing off the bike, she pulled her helmet and mask off and moved closer to 
Robin. Grasping his shoulders, she leaned down to look intently into the shorter 
boy's eyes. 

"Hey, Dick, it's me, just me. No big, grumpy, testosterone-laden bat in sight. 
Talk to me. We used to do that, remember?"

It was true, he and Barbara had been very close in the past. He had shared many 
of his secrets with her, once. But everything between them had changed after 
that night that he and Catwoman had … Now, every time that he and Barbara got 
serious or physically close, like right now, he would start thinking about that 
night and his body would start to get ideas and … things would get … 
uncomfortable. He couldn't seem to be alone with Barbara without thinking about 
that night. Sometimes he really hated Catwoman because, however unintentionally, 
with that one simple act, she had completely altered his relationship with 
Barbara. And the worst part of it was that he knew that Barbara was aware of the 
change, but he just couldn't seem to bring himself to explain to her the reason 
for it.

"Everything's okay, Babs, really," he insisted, as sincerely as he could manage. 
"I'm fine. You should go to your party. Hang out with your friends, have a good 
time. I'm just going to go home and go to bed."

"Okay," she sighed, clearly not believing him. "But you call me if you change 
your mind. I mean it, call me. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"I'll see you later, Munchkin. You take it easy," 

After watching Batgirl tear off, out of the small parking garage, Robin walked 
over to the row of helmets hanging along one wall and pulled one down. Heading 
over to the waiting motorcycle, he was about to pull the helmet over his head, 
when a voice startled him.

"So, who was she?"

The boy spun around, fists up and ready to fight, only to see that the ghost 
girl from the cemetery was back.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, lowering his hands.

"I followed you."

"I didn't see you."

"Yeah, evidently, I can control when you see me and when you don't. It's kind of 
cool. But you didn't answer my question. Who's the girl?"

"She's, sort of, part of the team. She's also a friend."

"Yeah, she seemed pretty friendly."

Robin was silent, not knowing how to respond to that statement.

"She called you Dick. You told me your name was Robin."

The boy felt distinctly uncomfortable knowing that the girl had obviously 
listened to his conversation with Barbara.

"Well, Dick is my real name. Robin is my … professional name, I guess," he said 
reluctantly.

"Why didn't you tell me your real name before?"

"No one's supposed to know. That's why they call it a secret identity."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't count. I mean, you're the only one who can see or hear 
me. So, who am I going to tell?"

He had to admit that she had a point there, but he was still uncomfortable with 
her knowing his secret. He decided to change the subject.

"I wonder why that is, that I'm the only one that can see you," he mused.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because you're Gypsy. Aren't Gypsies supposed to have 
powers? You know, like, the Evil Eye, casting curses, stuff like that?"

"That's just superstition and stereotypes. We Gypsies don't have any special 
powers. We just tend to be more superstitious than you gadje, but contrary to 
popular belief, that doesn't mean we actually have any control over any of those 
things, at least, no more than anyone else would. And every culture, at one 
time or another, believed in the power of curses."

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed.

"Maybe it's just because we're so close in age," Dick said softly.

"Yeah, maybe … So, what do you look like under that mask?"

"What?" He asked, feeling a sudden surge of panic flare in his chest.

"Take it off. I want to see your eyes."

"Why?"

"Relax, I just want to see what color they are," she said, laughing.

"Blue."

"Prove it. Let me see them."

"I-I can't."

"Why? Is it glued to your face or something?"

"No, it's just that its not allowed."

"Not allowed by who? Batman? He's not here. He left to help the Justice League. 
It's just you and me. Who's going to know?"

Great, he thought, she'd been listening to that conversation as well. He was 
still hesitant, not really trusting her. After all, what did he know about her, 
except that she was dead? And that was not exactly a reassuring thought. 

"Why won't you let me see your face? Are you afraid I'll recognize you?"

Dick realized that the possibility of the girl recognizing his face from an old 
circus posterbill or from the rare occasions that his picture had been in the 
paper with Bruce, were slim to none. No, that was not why he was hesitating. 
Frankly, he just plain didn't trust her.

"Why is it so important that you see my face?" he asked.

"Well, it's just that you're the only one that can see me," the girl said 
softly. "You're the only friend I've got. Friends trust each other, don't they? 
Why won't you trust me?"

Suddenly feeling guilty, Dick remembered that this poor girl had just gone 
through a traumatic experience. Hell, she had been murdered! She was dead and 
had somehow gotten left behind. And here he was treating her like some sort of 
criminal, when she was the victim. Forcing his feelings of unease to the back of 
his mind, the boy reached up and pulled off his mask.

A slow smile spread across Tammy's pretty, ghostly face. "Wow, you're really 
cute."

Despite his previous misgivings about her, Dick felt himself blushing. "Thank 
you," he mumbled self-consciously.

"So, now what?" the girl asked.

"I don't know, but I have to get home. Maybe you should go back to your house, 
too. Maybe that's why you're still here, you needed to see your family again."

"I doubt it. Frankly, I'd be surprised if anyone has even noticed that I'm gone 
yet. Mom's probably passed out drunk by now and Dad's rarely ever around, which 
is good. The only time he ever comes around is when he's drunk and needs money. 
Then he just beats Mom up and takes whatever she's got."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Why? It wasn't your fault and it's not your problem. I've gotten pretty good at 
taking care of mysel- … Well, I was, pretty good, … sort of …"

Both teens were silent for a long moment, each lost in his, or her, own 
thoughts. After a moment, a mischievous grin came across the girl's face. 

"You know, maybe I'm still here because I've never been properly kissed before. 
I mean, a girl can't go to heaven until she's had her first real kiss …" she 
said, looking at Dick pointedly.

"Oh…n-no," the boy breathed, backing away, his heart rate abruptly doubling.  He 
found he could only retreat a few feet before he found himself cornered between 
the motorcycle and the wall.

"What's the matter, Dick? Haven't you ever kissed a girl before?"

"Well, yes."

"What? Didn't you like it?"

"Yes," he whispered. But the last time, the female he had kissed had still been 
alive, he thought to himself.

Putting her hands on his chest, the ghost girl leaned in and placed her lips 
against his. Her lips felt cold, but solid, real. Moving closer and deepening 
the kiss, Tammy slid her hands down and around his waist, pressing her body 
tightly against his. To Dick, it felt like being hit with an icy shower, so 
painfully cold that it took his breath away, as if he had been physically 
punched in the chest. His lungs now empty and unable to regain his breath with 
Tammy's lips sealing his, the boy began to struggle against her. 

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl said, releasing him, her eyes wide with innocence.

It took a moment for Dick to gulp in enough air to refill his aching lungs. 

"I have to go home," he gasped, watching her warily. "And you have to… move on."

"No, please, I'm sorry," the girl said quickly. "Really, I didn't mean to hurt 
you. Don't leave. I don't know how to move on. Don't you think I would have, if 
I knew how? Do you think I like the idea of spending the rest of eternity 
alone?"

"I'm sorry. Truly, I am sorry for what happened to you, but I can't help you."

"But you're the only one that can see me. Don't you think that means something? 
Like, maybe, it's fate that we're together?"

As she spoke, the girl reached out and lightly caressed Dick's face. Her fingers 
felt like icicles. 

"Please, don't," the boy whispered.

A strange look passed over Tammy's face and she let her hand drop as she turned 
and walked away from him.

"Fine," she said. "Leave me. Just like Todd did. Just like Randy did, before 
him. Just like everybody does. Everybody leaves me. I guess, I'm just not worth 
sticking around for."

"What do you want from me?" Dick asked. "I can't help you. I can't bring you 
back to life."

The girl turned to look at him, her eyes shining with silvery tears.

"I don't expect you to. I just want a friend. I don't like being alone… It 
scares me."

This was something that Dick could certainly relate to. After his parents had 
died and the state had taken him away from the circus, the thought of being 
alone had frightened him more than anything else about his uncertain future. 
Even after Bruce had taken him in, for several weeks, Dick had been alone in the 
huge mansion. Well cared for, but largely ignored, by the billionaire playboy 
and his efficient, but austere, butler, the boy was as isolated in the luxury of 
Wayne Manor as he had been at the Gotham City Youth Center. For a child who had 
been raised in the crowded, bustling, privacy-deprived environment of the 
circus, this was tantamount to solitary confinement.  

It wasn't until Bruce and Alfred had opened up to him and shared their secret 
world with him that Dick had overcome his fear of being alone. Although, even 
now, he occasionally woke from nightmares where he had been left, abandoned, in 
some lonely, deserted place. It was not so much a fear of being physically cut 
off from others which tormented him now, but more the feeling of being 
emotionally bereft, of having no allies, no one who cared about him, no friends.

"Yeah," he whispered at last. "It scares me, too."

"So, what do you say? Take me for a ride on your motorcycle before you go home?" 
Tammy asked shyly.

~*~*~*~

	"Woohooo, faster!" Tammy whooped, the long tendrils of her hair whipping 
out behind her as she clung to Robin's waist.

	Evidently she's enjoying the ride, the boy thought, smiling at her 
enthusiasm. Despite her urgings for even more speed, he was not going to 
accommodate her. They had been speeding around town for nearly a half hour and 
she had been demanding more speed the whole time. As it was, they were already 
going faster than he had ever taken the bike before and he was beginning to get 
a little nervous. The motorcycle was hurtling through the deserted warehouse 
district and it was all he could do to maintain control. He knew they were 
rapidly approaching the harbor and he was frantically trying to remember where 
the next turn was.

	Giggling, Tammy leaned closer, reached around and put her hands over the 
faceplate of Robin's helmet.

	"Use the Force, Dick!" she squealed. "Use the Force!"

	"Tammy, what the hell are you doing? I can't see!"

	The boy reached a hand up to try and pry her fingers away, but the girl 
would not let go. She was surprisingly strong. Knowing that they must be nearing 
the water's edge, Robin tried harder. At the last minute, Tammy did release him, 
but only to grab onto the handlebars and yank them hard to the left. The boy got 
only a brief look at a stack of wooden crates in front of him, before he was 
crashing through them and he and the motorcycle went into the dark water.

	As the frigid water closed over him, the boy kicked himself away from the 
bike to keep from being dragged down with it and he struggled to free himself 
from the helmet that was rapidly filling with water. Finally pulling it off, he 
let it sink out of sight and began stroking towards the surface. Abruptly he 
felt something latch onto his ankle, preventing him from reaching the air. 
Glancing down, he saw Tammy's pale, ghostly form shimmering in the black water, 
her long, dark hair swirling around her eerily, like shadowy tentacles. She was 
holding his ankle and smiling up at him serenely.

	The boy kicked hard at her face with his free leg and she released him. He 
kicked out again and made for the surface, his lungs burning. He just managed to 
burst free for a moment and gasp in a lungful of sweet oxygen before he was 
pulled back down. Under the water, the girl clamped her mouth over his and he 
once again felt the numbing, breath-stealing cold invade his lungs.

	As black spots began to creep into his narrowing vision, Robin finally 
managed to wrench himself away from her. Returning to the surface, he made for 
the pier. Being a naturally strong swimmer, as well as having been trained by 
the Bat, Robin was able to reach the dock before the girl could grab him again. 
She caught up to him just as he was pulling himself onto the pier.

	"What the hell's the matter with you?" the boy demanded, turning to face 
her, still breathing heavily. "Were you trying to kill me?"

	"Oh, come on, I was just having a little fun," she pouted, bobbing in the 
water effortlessly. "No one lives forever and wouldn't you rather spend the rest 
of eternity with me?"

	"No, I wouldn't! I'd rather stay alive, thank you. Is that what this is 
all about? You can't stand the thought of being alone, so you want me to join 
you?"

	"Well, yes, actually. I think I'm starting to get the hang of this being 
dead thing and its not so bad, really. I mean, think about it. You never have to 
grow up or grow old. You never have to listen to adults anymore… But it would be 
much more enjoyable if I had someone to share it with."

	"And you want me to be that someone?"

	"Yeah. You're pretty hot. You're kinda fun. Why not?"

	"Well, if I were to die, how do you know that I won't just… pass on, like 
your boyfriend, Todd, did?" Robin said, trying to reason with the girl.

	"Well, I don't know that you won't, but it's a risk we'll have to take."

	"I don't think so. That's not a risk I'm willing to take."

	"God, you sound just like Todd. He tried to back out on me, too."

	"What? …He didn't kill you, did he? You killed him, because he wouldn't 
kill himself for you."

	"Hey, he stabbed me, remember! Okay, so I slashed his wrists first, but he 
killed me, too!"

	"That was self defense!"

	"Whatever."

	Fully realizing for the first time just how much of a threat this girl 
posed to him, Robin reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small taser. 
Activating it, he tossed it into the water near Tammy's bobbing, ghostly form. 
There was a loud buzzing sound and the girl squealed, then sank out of sight.

	Robin felt a stab of guilt, but firmly reminded himself that she was 
already dead. He couldn't kill someone who was already dead. Turning on his 
heel, he sprinted back up town. Once he got back among the taller buildings, he 
took to the rooftops, able to travel faster with his jumplines. He was standing 
on the ledge of the eighty-story Kressler building, preparing to launch another 
line, when a voice from behind startled him.

	"You tried to kill me."

	The boy whirled around to find the ghost girl floating a foot or so off 
the rooftop. She did not look 
happy.

	"Reality check, Princess; you're already dead!"

	"Yeah, but it's the thought that counts," Tammy said dangerously.

	"May I remind you that you tried to kill me" the boy responded.

	"No, I tried to help you."

	"Yeah, into an early grave."

	"I am trying to help you escape your fate. Do you want to spend the rest 
of your life being Batman's bitch? Risking your life night after night, for a 
pat on the head and 'good job, son'? Don't you want more?"

	Feeling a little irritated that the girl had so quickly and correctly 
understood the crux of his relationship with Batman, Robin had to admit, "Yes, I 
do want more, but I don't think I'm going to find it with you."

	"What are you talking about? I can go anywhere, do anything …" 

	"Yeah, and no one can see you or hear you …"

	That made the girl pause and she fell silent for a moment, staring down.

	"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she said softly. "Todd told me that 
he loved me. We were supposed to be together for all eternity, but he left me 
behind …"

	"Look, Tammy, I'm sorry for you, really, but none of this is my fault or 
my problem. I can't help you and I don't want what you're offering. I want you 
to leave me alone. I'm leaving now. Don't follow me."

	"I guess his love just wasn't strong enough to keep him here, or maybe he 
just lied," the girl continued talking to herself in that soft, dreamy voice, as 
if she had not heard a word the boy had just said.  "I hate being alone, being 
left behind. It will not happen again."

	Her head suddenly snapped up and she glared at Robin with fierce eyes.

	"You are not leaving me behind!"

	Flinging herself forward, she tackled the surprised boy, sending both of 
them tumbling over the side of the building. Long hours of training and 
meticulous preparation with the Batman allowed the boy to keep a calm head even 
as he fell. He was still holding the cable launcher the team used to propel 
their swing lines long distances. Looking around for a suitable anchor for his 
line, Robin spotted a sturdy-looking flagpole projecting out from a nearby 
building.

	Calmly and carefully aiming the launcher, he fired his line at the pole. 
The hooked, weighted end shot out and wrapped itself securely around the base of 
the pole. The boy prepared himself for the jerk from the line that would prevent 
him from becoming abstract art on the pavement below, but could rip his arms 
from their sockets if he weren't ready for it.

	Abruptly changing directions in mid air, Robin was jerked away from Tammy. 
Still not entirely comfortable in her so recently acquired ethereal form, the 
ghost girl could not change course fast enough to keep up with him. She could 
only watch helplessly as he alighted on a lower rooftop and disappeared into the 
night.

~*~*~*~

	Robin decided to stick to the roofs of lower buildings this time, hoping 
that he would be a less conspicuous target, and that any potential falls might 
be a little less fatal. So far, he had not seen Tammy again, but that hadn't 
stopped her from popping up before. He didn't know how she kept finding him, so 
he didn't really know how to lose her. He could only keep moving and listening 
to his instincts.

	Landing lightly on the roof of a low tenement building, the boy found 
himself in a jungle of washing lines. Evidently many of the residents of this 
building used the rooftop to hang their laundry out to dry. There were several 
lines heavily loaded with clothes. Spying a pair of gray, workman's coveralls, 
it occurred to Robin that he would also be much less conspicuous if he covered 
his brightly colored costume.

	The coveralls had the logo for Hanson's Auto Body stenciled on the back 
and a patch with the name Gary sewn on the front. Whoever Gary was, he was not 
an overly large man, because the work clothes were only slightly too big for the 
teenager. Pulling off his mask and stuffing it into one of the many pockets, the 
boy looked himself over as best he could. Satisfied that he would not draw any 
attention to himself with his appearance, as long as no one looked too closely 
at his feet, where he was still wearing his short green boots. He had not been 
lucky enough to find appropriate footwear lying around. 

	Batman had always insisted that Robin carry cash in his utility belt for 
emergencies and it came in handy now. Taking out five, hundred dollar bills, the 
boy stuffed them into the pocket of a pair of jeans that were hanging on the 
same line with the coveralls, along with a hastily scrawled note explaining the 
disappearance of the clothes and a thank you. He signed the note with a letter R 
and a small bat logo.

	Climbing down the building's fire escape, the boy headed for the nearest 
subway entrance. Hopefully Tammy wouldn't think to look for him underground.  
Being a Friday night and Halloween, the subway was still quite crowded despite 
the relatively late hour. Surrounded by boisterous people, many in costume, Dick 
tried to keep to the thick of the crowd and blend in. Glancing nervously around 
him, he did a double take as he saw a young man standing nearby wearing a fairly 
accurate replica of his own crime-fighting costume. The young man's taller, 
beefier companion was dressed as Batman. As the boy stood watching the two men 
surreptitiously, the taller man slid one hand up and under the yellow cape of 
his smaller companion. The smaller man suddenly jerked forward, one hand 
clutching his backside.

	"Stop that!" the younger man admonished in a loud, coy whisper. "Can't you 
wait 'til we get home?"

	Dick quickly looked away, his face burning. He felt acutely embarrassed, 
hurt and slightly angry. Is this what people really thought about Batman and 
Robin, that there was something sexual between them? Is this why Batman had 
started becoming so distant of late? Did people also think there was something 
sexual between Bruce and himself? Some of the curious stares he had received 
from a few of Bruce's guests at recent parties made much more sense now. A sort 
of painful hollowness seemed to fill the boy, as though all of his emotions had 
slowly bled out his pores with this realization. 

	He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that the boy almost didn't notice 
that the subway train had arrived and the crowd was thinning around him as the 
people boarded. Moving mechanically, he joined them and slid into the nearest 
empty seat he found. The ride uptown was long and uneventful. Dick rode the 
subway to the end of its line, at the northern boundary of Gotham City. Leaving 
the subway, he continued on to Wayne Manor on foot. 

~*~*~*~

	It was quite late when Dick finally made it back to the Batcave. There was 
a tray with a thermos of hot chocolate and a plate of sandwiches sitting on a 
table beside the computers, but the boy wasn't hungry. Exhausted and numb, he 
sank down on the computer chair and almost immediately felt himself drifting off 
to sleep. Shaking himself awake, he glanced over and saw a blinking light on the 
computer indicating that there was a message waiting. 

	Pressing a few buttons, he turned to look at the large monitor. After a 
moment, Barbara Gordon's ace appeared on the screen. She was wearing street 
clothes and her red hair hung loose around her shoulders. The sound of loud 
music could be heard in the background.  She must have sent the transmission 
from her apartment.

	"Hey, Munchkin!" the girl said brightly. "I know you said that you didn't 
want to talk earlier, but I thought maybe you might have changed your mind. I 
know, I know, just call me Mom. Listen, give me a buzz when you get back. I 
don't care what time it is, call me. Bye."

	Switching the transmission off, Dick leaned back into the chair with a 
sigh. He would call her back tomorrow. He didn't feel like talking to anyone 
right now. Normally any kind of communication from the lovely red head would 
elicit delicious thrills in the pit of the boy's stomach, but this time he felt 
only mild irritation. He was not irritated at the girl herself, but at the 
knowledge that his relationship with her had changed as he had gotten older in 
much the same way that his relationship with Bruce had changed. There was a 
certain awkwardness between him and Barbara that had never been there before and 
had nothing to do with Catwoman and he hated it. 

	Everything had been so much simpler when he was younger. Now it seemed 
that all of his relationships were haunted by some sexual tension, whether that 
tension was from within himself, or projected onto him from others, it was 
there, like some great predator, waiting in the shadows to pounce, and bring 
with it shame and disgrace. He had fallen victim to that beast once already and 
he still bore the scars. If this constant tension and awkwardness were part of 
growing up, Dick wasn't sure that he wanted any part of it.

	"God, growing up sucks!" the boy whispered aloud.

	"That's what I tried to tell you."

	Dick whirled around to find Tammy floating in the air a few feet away. 

	The boy felt his heart sink. He had nowhere left to run. His last 
sanctuary had been breached. He was trapped.

	"Tammy, please…," he whispered.

	"Shhh," she hushed him, gliding closer to place her icy fingers over his 
lips. "It'll be alright. It'll be quick. Just close your eyes. I'll do the 
rest."

	Dick knew that it was pointless to try to fight her. She was beyond his 
reach, in many ways. And perhaps he didn't really want to fight. Perhaps 
everything would be all right. Perhaps he would move on and not linger. He could 
pass into the Otherworld and, at last, rejoin his parents. It would be nice to 
see them again.

	He felt Tammy's lips pressing against his and felt the now familiar, 
breath-stealing cold invade his lungs. As the icy breath continued to work its 
way deeper into his body, threatening to freeze his heart and numb his very 
soul, Dick's instinctive sense of self-preservation kicked in and he began 
struggling against her, but the girl had already snaked one arm around his waist 
and the other hand grasped the back of his head, holding him firmly in place.

	Flashes of color began to appear behind the boy's closed eyelids and his 
world was starting to spin slightly. Some detached, and strangely calm, part of 
his mind, the part ruthlessly developed and trained by the Bat, recognized that 
he was about to lose consciousness. Death would follow shortly after.

	A strange rushing, flapping sound gradually managed to register to Dick's 
increasingly sluggish mind and he briefly thought of the wings of angels from 
the stories his mother had told him. He imagined that he could even feel the 
feather-light touch of those seraphic wings brushing against his cheeks and arms 
and ruffling his hair slightly, as if he were surrounded by an entire flock of 
angels. Was this what it felt like to die? This wasn't so bad. He had thought he 
would be frightened, but instead, he felt quite peaceful.

	Abruptly, the icy chill pressing against his mouth and body was gone and 
sweet warm air filled his lungs as his body reflexively gasped it in. As his 
vision and consciousness gradually cleared, the boy found himself on the floor 
of the Batcave, on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. The sound of wings 
and now a high-pitched wail, were still there.

	Looking up, Dick saw that Tammy had stepped away from him and was covered 
with bats, an angry swarm of biting, clawing and tearing bats. Their high-
pitched screeches and squeals almost, but not quite, drowning out the girl's 
terrified screams. As she swatted at them and tried to shake them off, she 
took a couple of stumbling steps back, unwittingly propelling herself towards 
the edge of the cave floor, which terminated in a vast cavern of an unknown 
depth.

	"Tammy, behind you!" Dick cried out.

	His voice was lost in the echoing screams of the girl and her tormentors. 
Before he could get to his feet and move to help her, she had taken those last 
few fatal steps and had plunged into the void, the bats still tenaciously 
clinging to her. The boy ran to the edge and looked down. The girl had already 
disappeared into the darkness, but her screams continued to echo for several 
more minutes before fading into silence. 

	Dick stood staring into the darkness for a long time, shocked and 
confused. What had just happened? The cave had always been filled with bats, but 
they had never behaved aggressively like that before. They had always largely 
ignored the humans who frequently cohabited the cave with them. How had the bats 
been able to see the ghost girl and what had made them attack her? Was she 
really gone this time or would she simply pop up again later? Something told him 
that she would not, that somehow she had finally moved on, whether she wanted to 
or not, and perhaps not in the direction that she had intended.

	After several long minutes, the doorway at the top of the stairs, which 
led into the manor, opened and Dick heard Alfred's voice call down. 

	"Master Dick, Master Bruce, is everything all right? I thought I heard a 
scream."

	"Yeah, Alfred, everything's okay," the boy answered dully.

	"Very good. Is Master Bruce with you, lad?"

	"No, he got called away on… uh, other business."

	"Ah, I see… Are you all right, young sir? You sound a little upset. Would 
you like to come up and talk? I can make us some tea."

	"No, thanks, Alfred. It's late. I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll see you in 
the morning."

	"Very well then. Don't stay up too late, sir."

	"No, I'll be up in a minute."

	"Good night, then."

	"Good night, Alfred."

	Dick looked around the cave for a moment. Was it just his imagination or 
did all the bats seem to be watching him intently? It almost felt as if there 
was another consciousness in the cave with him, watching him. Oddly, he found 
this thought comforting rather than disturbing. It was as if there was some 
protective entity there in the cave looking out for him. Had this entity sent 
the bats to help the boy or was this consciousness part of the bats themselves? 
Dick gave his head a shake. Or am I just tired? Perhaps the strange events of 
the long night were simply playing havoc with his imagination. With a heavy 
sigh, the boy turned and headed up the stairs to the mansion.

	Behind him, in the shadows of the great cave, thousands of tiny, 
glittering black eyes watched his retreating back.

***

-fin-