trans_9 | The thing you should know is that everyone is in really big trouble. Yeah. Even you.

Tim doesn't respond to this. His attention is more focused on jumping over Terry's leg, and not stumbling when one of his feet get caught.

It's not really helping that Tim--the real Tim--is gloating a little in the back of his mind.

I knew he wasn't going to rise to the bait. You're going to lose.

"Shut up."

No. You're going to lose, because Brainy was smarter than you gave him credit for, and that Andalite kid found you and make you tip your hand too soon. I don't know who he is, but I'm going to make sure to thank him when this is all over.

"What makes you think this is going to be over?" he snarled. "I'm not planning on giving this body up."

It will. Because Terry's good--I guess we'll find out if he can take me, but my guess is that if he's good enough for Bruce to say he can be Batman, then he's more than good enough to give me a run for my money. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. Sucker.

"Lets see how that theory holds up when you kill him, too." And Tim goes on the attack again, aiming several sharp strikes at Terry with his staff.

Tim seemed to be talking to himself. It was more then a bit unsettling. And then came the staff again. One strike managed to catch Terry in the ribs, and another right on the bullet graze he'd received so recently. That one managed to get a sharp intact of breath and a second of blinding pain from Terry. But it was enough to get his head cleared from everything but the fight.

Before too many more hits could land, he dodged out of the way, flipped up and over on a hand-stand to get some distance from the staff.

Think, Ter. You've fought Tim before. How did you win that fight?

The talking. Of course. It may have been the Joker's style, but the slugs in Tim's brain now seemed to like chatting. It brought about an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu, but it might just work.

"Kill him?" Terry said with a dark laugh. "Oh, come on. You might be in control, but that's still Tim Drake's body. Tim Drake, trained by Bruce Wayne, the coward. If the old Bat had had any sense, he would have trained the kids not to show mercy. If any of the Bat family was capable of killing, do you think The Joker would still be around? If any of them had enough balls to kill, Jason Todd would never have died."

It hurt to say that, it really did. He respected Bruce's choice to never kill. But maybe he could reach Tim with those words. Make Robin angry enough at him that he'd get some control back.

Tim's eyes narrow in real, honest fury. He stands down, gripping his staff in a half-ready stance. "That's bullshit," he hisses. "Unwillingness to kill doesn't make one a--"

His voice cuts off like someone threw a switch, and his grip on the staff goes to a better guard position. There's a different kind of anger on Tim's face, now. "Nice try," he snaps, glaring at Terry. "It won't work again."

There. That little spark of rage, that little bit of human. Terry had reached Tim, if only for a few seconds. It was a distraction, and a confirmation. It was all Terry needed.

Terry crouched, then sprung towards Tim, one arm flying up to block the staff, the other coming in for a punch to the solar plexus.

"Maybe that's what Bruce says." He hissed once he was close enough to Tim, "But can you trust his morals, when he didn't have a family to teach them? Maybe I just think this way because I still have family alive that I want to protect."

It was a low blow. He made a mental note to make it up some way to Tim. Hell, if letting him try out the future Batsuit was what it took, then he would happily turn the security functions off. But that was assuming they'd both make it out of this alive.

Tim feels the hit, and the breath rushes out of his lungs. He staggers backward, gasping a little to get his breath back.

He gives Terry a slight sneer. "That hit him pretty hard, Terry," he says in an almost conversational tone, a cold smile on his face. "You know his father only just died--because he didn't get there fast enough to stop it? So he's really feeling that jab right now.

"As for me? I don't care."

He uses the staff to vault him into the air, aiming a flying kick at Terry.

Even though he tried his best to dodge, the kick clipped Terry's chin. It was enough to knock him off balance, and send him sprawling on the floor. Not to mention it hurt, and he really didn't want to hit back too hard. Kicking Tim's ass had been a lot easier when he had the face of that bastard clown.

The fall had knocked the wind out of Terry, but he was still able to talk. "You really don't care, huh? Then could you tell Tim to stop pulling his punches?"

He shakily got to his feet, then swung around in a round-house kick.

Tim let out a short, dry laugh. "Funny." He blocked Terry's foot with the staff and threw it back at him, trying to knock him off balance as he moved it.

Tim wasn't making him pull his punches.

Right?

Terry did slip a bit, but he was getting the hang of Tim's moves. It was that damned staff that was the problem. So he quickly knocked the staff away with one arm, leaping forward and trying to elbow Tim's face with the other.

"What can I say? I'm a funny guy. Unlike you."

Was that insult aimed at the Slug, or was it some residual hate from a different meeting with Tim?

Tim curses when the staff flies out of his hands. That... is inconvenient. He has to leap backward and away from the lost staff to avoid the elbow to the face. Damn it. He's good with the weapon, and it's comfortable in his hands.

Well. He'll just have to let Terry see how good he is without it. He leaps in again, angling low this time, going for Terry's knees.

"I never claimed to be the funny Robin. Just the smart one."

Good, the staff was gone. That was helpful. But Tim was still a great fighter without it. Terry was once again knocked over by the tackle, but rolled with it, using his own legs as leverage to throw Tim off of him.

"If Tim were really that smart, he wouldn't have let you into his head. Gettin' a bit cocky, aren't ya?"

Tim lands in a roll of his own, bouncing easily to his feet again. He gives Terry an unpleasant smile. "You think it was a choice?"

"The way I see it, it must of been. That, or Tim is a really crappy Robin."

I'm not really thinking this Tim. I'm so sorry. I'll make this up to you, I swear.

Terry sprung up in a back flip, and rushed at Tim, this time aiming a sharp punch at the arrow-wound on his arm.

Tim's eyes flash, and he narrows them at Terry. "I'm a very good Robin," he snaps, his face set and determined. "Now why don't you do your job, Batman, and take. Me. Down."

Shaking a little with the effort of controlling his own damn body long enough to not move, he lets the hit connect.

And it hurts. A lot.

He grunts in pain and staggers backwards, the injured arm shrieking in agony. "Don't do that again," he growls.

I told you--you're going to lose.

Terry didn't like hurting Tim like that. But even so, he had a wry grin on his face. Being called Batman by someone he truly respected was... a rush, really. And enough to give him the resolve to keep fighting.

"First it's 'Take me down', then it's 'don't do that'... jeez, you're worse then my girlfriend."

Terry didn't wait for Tim to recover before going for another attack, using a single-knuckle punch to hit the wound again, and his other hand to jab at Tim's ribs.

"Terry! Move and cover you ears!" Hey Tim, really should have remembered that Danny was still alive. Especially taking into consideration the fact that his ghostly wail hits like a freight train filled with 1000 damned souls.

Tim stumbles back from Terry's strikes, and glances up at the sound of Danny's voice... just in time to get hit with what feels like a wall. Which knocks him back against an actual wall, and really, Tim's in a whole of of hurt right now.

When he slips into unconsciousness, the expression on his face changes from pain and fury to something like relief.

He won't be able to hurt anyone now.

Remembering how badly that wail during the Roach fight had hurt, Terry ducked away from Tim, covering his ears. It helped, but when it ended, there was still some nasty ringing.

That wasn't important, though. Tim. Tim was the important thing. Terry knelled down next to the fallen Robin. "...You think he's okay?" He said quietly to Danny. He was wondering if they should take him down to the Med Bay... but he was hesitant to touch him. The slug might force him awake and start some serious havoc.

"He'll live, but there's no way he's getting up from that anytime soon." Danny said, looking around.

"Shit! Jaime!" He shouted, noticing Jaime's body on the floor.

Kara arrives back from her medi-trip with Brainy.

"Yeah," she says, coming up behind Danny. "That's..." she trails off before looking towards Robin. "Need my help in getting his belt off?"

Jaime Reyes' body is still among the rubble of the statue he broke through in his fall, the last wisps of smoke and steam still drifting off it.

The stillness is why it's so alarming what happens next.

His body starts doing something a little...funny.

The armor, given time by feigning broken-ness has amassed the resources to fix itself. Little blue sparks shoot up from the gaps as the broken parts seal over.

There is the tiniest flutter of his heart, but even Kara likely can't hear it, with it muffled by the armor.

However, they're not going to miss the next part.

There's a high-pitched whine and Jaime's body suddenly jerks as it's electrocuted.

Edited 2009-02-25 06:39 (UTC)

Kara takes a step back and the belt that Brainy had given Kara springs a force shield around her strong, lithe form. "Guys? I'm thinking he's not so dead."

No, Kara, he's trying to be not so dead. Or the scarab is trying to make him that way, at any rate. It does that sometimes. (Just ask Dan Garrett).

His body convulses again, but still nothing.

"Jaime? If you can hear me? Get the hell back into your body now."

What? Danny's part ghost himself. It's completely possible that could work.

"Absolutely not." Terry said immediately to Kara's request. Really, the idea of getting the belt away from Tim was a good one, and he hadn't thought if it. But right now? He couldn't trust anyone as far as he could throw them.

He was just reaching for the belt when Jaime started... defibrillating himself?

"Wow. ...I need to tell Bruce to work that into the suit."

Maybe he hears Danny. Maybe third time's the charm. Either way...

Jaime shudders and this time, he suddenly gasps and turns over on his side, coughing and sucking in deep breaths.

"Owwwwww. Dying hurts."

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