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"Are you out of your fucking mind?! There's no way I would /ever/ be with you again, Giselle! Not after this!

You hate me for lying to you about the Artist? Fine. You hate me for getting you killed? Fine!" Tim snarls, moving toward the entertainment center. He can't believe this plan ever had to come into effect, because he never expected to be attacked at home by his dead ex-fiancee. He never expected to be this defenseless.

He never expected to watch another woman he loved die in front of him ever again.

"But this...you're no better than Wells is. You could have killed me and had your revenge, and I'd have been fine with that.

Now, when I send you back to the afterlife, I'm cremating the body." Tim growls.

He reaches for his grappling gun and a small detonator as he presses a small red button behind the television. He didn't tell J'anna about the evacuation plan as he never planned for her to live with him or be home if he ever had to use it. And even if he did, fire didn't hurt her. He was the only one taking any risks.

And now, Tim Drake realizes that J'anna is dead, like Giselle, because of all the things he never told her.

"Go back to hell, bitch."

(RAGE)

Tim turns and dives from his third story window, suddenly glad that he purchased the empty brownstone when he got to Star City a year ago. He always knew it wasn't permanent, but his way of dealing with this situation is.

As he falls, he counts down ten seconds. This is the amount of time it will take for everything in his computers to download to his bolthole base in the sewers of the Triangle.

When he counts to one, Tim presses the button on the detonator, firebombing the entire brownstone in one brief flash of light and heat, then fires the grappling gun and swings away. He counts himself lucky that it's late at night and not broad daylight, or his secret would be out.

But he'd scream to the heavens that he's Red Robin and that he was once Robin, the Teen Wonder, if it meant he could have J'anna beside him right now.

I'm sorry, Martian-girl. I'm so sorry I failed you.

And he swings away into the night, intent on finding out who did this and how...because that person or persons just shot to the top of his list, even over the League of Assassins, if it wasn't them.