Fear

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans. If I owned them my OTPs would be declared "Earth Law".

The mission was simple. Go inside the old warehouse, get the codes from Brain's new molecular disintegrator, dissemble it and leave. It was relatively easy, especially when your squad has all those amazing superpowers at your lead. Yeah, some of them were still learning to follow orders and work as together, but they weren't completely amateurs. They knew what they were doing and there were not major risk to fail.

He tried everything. Batarags, smoke bombs, grenades, but nothing worked. And now his team was getting beaten down and with no chances to win.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. Phobia wasn't supposed to be there.

He opened his eyes to the pain, trying to focus his blurred vision to his opponent. There she stood, wearing black and green and with that disturbing smile in her face. Falling on his knees, he felt his arms and legs immobilized as an electric wave trapped him and couldn´t let him to react or motion. Suddenly the last traces of conscious started to leave his body and the limits between reality and fiction became almost invisible as he finally closed his eyes.

"Robin…"

It was like a whisper, a soft groan in the wind, almost inaudible.

"Robin…"

Slowly, he opened his eyes to find he was no longer in the warehouse. It was dark and smelt of burnt wood. The only source of light was two big stage lights hanging from the ceiling, illuminating a single spot in front of him. He stood straight feeling like a noisy drum was inside his head, making the mental pain worse than the physical. Bet not even M´gann could scape Phobia's power. Speaking of her, how would his team be? Everybody was by their own, with none of their teammates to help them. What if they couldn't break Phobia´s illusion? He had to move his butt, and fast if he wanted to help the others.

"First I need to figure out where the hell I am." he told himself, scratching the back of his neck while looking around him. There were seats, hundreds of them in the whole perimeter. And those fabrics hanging next to the…

"A theater." he finally stated.

"Gotham's old theater, to be more specific."

It was like a knife piercing his skin. That voice, his voice. What was going on?

Heavily he turned around to encounter the owner of that voice, his eyes widened with surprise.

"Hello, Robin. Or I must say Nightwing."

"W-What are you doing here?" it was an attempt of shouting, but it barely sounded like a contended cry."

"What a way to say hello. I haven't seen you in a long time since our last encounter." he answered him with that polite tone Nightwing hated. It was like he was making fun of him.

"Answer me! What are you doing here!?" he asked again, now his vice more confident than before.

But, why was he caring at all? It all was a fake. He was aware that the man was another part of that mirage, but his only presence made Nightwing's nerves tense. Maybe because he seemed so real, same voice, same attitude, same appearance.

Same infernal smile hidden behind that mask.

"Visiting the neighborhood. What a lovely place, don't you think, my old friend."

"We are not friends! I wasn't finished with you last time, I'm gonna put you in jail!" he yelled at him, preparing his escrima sticks to confront whatever new trick his imagination was playing on him.

"Now those are big words for you, but I guess you're a big boy now."

"You guessed right. This time you're the one who's going to lose."

Nightwing could see how he smirked behind the fabric that covered his face. He hadn't changed at all, he though; still thinking he could manipulate him. Not now. Now he was prepared.

"Is that so? You really thought I would come here without something really special for you. After all these years I've been preparing this for when we meet again."

"Cut that crap, Deathstroke! Whatever you're planning it won't work!"

"Watch your manners, Boy Wonder." Deathstroke remarked with a chuckle. "There's a lady with us in this room."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not the only friend I made a visit tonight." he breathed, walking into the light. "I managed to pass and knock to someone else's door."

He extended his arm to the old and dirty curtain of the stage, pulling an inert body from behind it to the ground, under the lights.

"No…"

She fell on her belly, her body hitting the ground soundless. She wasn't tied, but for some reason she didn't move or react. That was what worried Nightwing the most

"I must say she wasn't pleased to see me either. She can be really aggressive sometimes, just like I remember her. But nothing a few chemicals can't solve."

The escrima sticks echoed in the whole theater when his hands dropped them. His heart stopped pounding for a few seconds and his breath became as cold as ice. Nothing would have ever prepared him for something like that. All confidence he felt a moments before was gone, now replaced with fear.

His greatest fear.

Deathstroke walked until he was next to her captive's body, never taking his gaze from Nightwing. He enjoyed it, how little bird's face horrified and paled with horror. He didn´t need to see his eyes to know despair already consumed him. And this was only the beginning.

"Leave her out of this! This is between you and me."

"On the contrary, my friend. She's involved in this as much as you are."

He kneed before her and, with one hand, stroked her long hair just to make Nightwing lose his mind at madness.

"Get your fucking hands off her!"

"One more step and I'll covered you with her blood." he said, suddenly taking a gun from his belt and pointing it to her head.

All Nightwing's muscles tensed as he saw the weapon just millimeters from her temple.

"Now, my little princess, stand up to say a proper hello to our friend here present." Deathstroke whispered in her ear, making Nightwing's blood boiled in his veins.

She tried to get up. She did. But whatever that maniac gave to her didn't allow her to even stay on her feet. Trembling, she kneed, supporting her weight in one leg first and then the other. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably and her face had lost all trace of color. But what scared Nightwing the most was her eyes, almost dead.

She collapsed, hitting the floor dreadfully.

"You'll have to excuse her…" He said while he turned her body with his boot to make her face him. "She's a little… indisposed"

"You bastard! When I get my hands on you!" Nightwing yelled, fists clenching so strong he felt his fingers numb.

"Robin…" it was like a whisper, a soft groan in the wind, almost inaudible. It was her voice.

"Oh, look at that, Nightwing. It seems she's a little confused, too. It must be the drugs, I guess."

With a fast move Nightwing took the eskrima sticks from the ground and assuming a battle pose.

"Are you really going to fight me, Nightwing? Don't you fear of your friend?"

"I have news for you, Deathstroke. This isn't real. It's an illusion, I've faced it before and this time it won't work." He said loudly so Phobia would listen to it too. He had to take the control again and broke this spell.

"Really? If this is an illusion…" he side now walking around her motionless body. " then you wouldn't mind this." He shot. A weak howl of pain.

Blood.

"That didn't feel like an illusion, did it?"

He lost his mind to anger and rage. It was so sudden. With a mad cry he pounced to The Terminator, attacking him with his fists punching everywhere he could. Face, arms, chest, there was no place protected. Thank God the gun was already in the ground, if not he'd be dead by now. He had dropped his sticks again. He didn't need them. He wanted to make him pay with his own hands. He wanted to hurt him, just as he hurt her moments ago.

Just as she was hurt right now.

"Starfire…" he murmured, petrified if what he just had realized.

He got up from his enemy's body and went directly to the body illuminated by the stage lights, blood shining bright red.

"Star… Starfire! Come on, baby. Open your eyes." He said placing a hand in her cheek. She was so pale. "You'll be fine, I promise."

He inspected the wound, a tiny hole in her right front shoulder. It wasn't bleeding as much as he expected, but it was still grave.

A big hand posed on his shoulder and, before he could react, his body impacted to a nearest wall. He groaned in pain, shaking his head to clear it.

"You shouldn't have done that, kid!" Deathstroke yelled, his voice showing he had already lost his temper.

The assassin approached to him, his gun back to his hand. Supporting against the wall, Nightwing managed to get in his feet. He swore when he noticed he was too far away from his weapons, and his body wasn't responding properly.

"You just got into big trouble, Nightwi—" he couldn't finish the sentence.

Deathstroke fell to his knees when a massive ball of energy hit his back.

"Get away from him…"

Nightwing was shocked. Both of them. He saw her, panting and with her arms extended to The Terminator, preparing a new starbolt.

Deathstroke looked at her from behind his shoulder. He didn't see it, but Nightwing swore he saw the man smile again.

He was too slow, but he predicted it. Starfire's starbolt died in her hands when she felt Deathstroke's hand grabbing her neck. And before Nightwing could get to his feet, the muzzle was already on her chest.

"Your biggest weakness, Nightwing. Your biggest fear. I'm about to make it real."

"No!"

"Say goodbye to little princess."

…

The trigger was pulled.

…

The bullet was shot.

…

And he wasn't fast enough to stop it.

…

Always so slow.

…

"Starfire!"

…

Author's note: Hope you liked my second attempt of a fanfic. Again, if you find any mistakes please forgive me! English is not my native language. If there is a mistake with the grammar or orthography please let me know, I would be very grateful.

So, this is a crossover. This is what happens when my OTP invades my head again. It's set on Young Justice universe, including some Teen Titans characteristics. It will be a two-chapter fic, so if you liked it, wait for the next chapter.