By Weirdnessmagnet
January 15, 2007

Summary: The best-laid plans of mice and Robins...
Universe/Continuity: Teen Titans v.3, post-Infinite Crisis, pre-9/2011 Reboot.
Rating: PG
Author's notes: For 3jane's birthday. I promised a drabble, she got 423 words of Tim and Kon. Plus several more chapters.

***

Robin had had a good feeling about this one. In hindsight, that was the warning he should have paid attention to.

His hands fly over the controls. Everything was going well, better than well in fact, and the readings don't explain why --

"Containment failure in thirty seconds."

-- this is happening.

On the plus side, the problem -- whatever the problem *is*, because the readings don't explain that at all -- happened while he was nearby. And although this clone isn't finished, he's further along than the others had been when they failed, and maybe, just maybe --

"Containment failure in fifteen seconds," the computer drones.

"Shut up," Robin mutters. He makes a mental note to reprogram the computer's voice to something less annoying in a crisis.

"Animation sequence activated."

"No, no, no, no. Computer, cease animation program, emergency authorization code Robin-gamma-one-two-four."

"Cessation not possible. Full animation in twenty seconds."

Robin abandons the console and moves for the tank itself. The infant doesn't look like he's in trouble floating in the greenish fluid, but the monitors beep faster as the baby's heart rate increases.

The valve pops before he can jump over the railing and the fluid in the tank is a third drained by the time he reaches it. He watches the fluid level lower and lower, watches the baby sink towards the floor. He waits for the monitors to flatline once again, waits for the beeping to become a dull steady whine of yet another failed attempt. The last of the goo drains from the tank, leaving the infant on the slippery bottom.

The monitors keep beeping.  Robin grabs a suction bulb.

The tank's door was designed for someone to walk out of it. The seal makes a wet pop as he opens the door. He steps carefully onto the slick floor.

The baby is warm and slightly chubby with a shock of dark hair. His face crinkles slightly as Robin suctions his nose.  "Breathe," he commands quietly. The baby blinks in the too-bright light.

He shoves the bulb deep into the baby's mouth, sucking out green fluid. The baby coughs, then lets out an irritated howl.

Robin reaches for a towel, shakes it out and awkwardly wraps the baby with one hand while cradling him in the other. The baby shivers and wails as if to say he'd been perfectly content in his tube, thank you, and was now demanding to be put back in.

"It's all right," Robin says, drying Little Kon off. "I've got you."