Stealing. He could live with that. He could always right that wrong. But the irony of who he was going to stealing from had not left him.

"Where is this thing you want me to steal?"

"Wayne Enterprises. Have you heard of it?"

"No…"

He wondered if Slade did know who he was—his connection to Bruce Wayne. Would Slade expose him to his friends, or somebody who could do real damage with that information, like the Joker?

Maybe. There was always that chance. But then again, maybe Slade would always silently enjoy the power he had over Robin. Like he was doing now.

"Who knows? I may even become like a father to you."

"I already have a father."

Slade turned away from him. Robin let his thoughts wander.

How did I become a psychopath's apprentice? How did he come to see me in himself—

Before he could react Slade hit him in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. Robin fell to his knees—to his shame—taken aback by the blow.

"What was that for?"

"You need to be ready for attacks like that. You must be ready for anything I throw at you so you can be better prepared for what others will throw at you. If I was your enemy, I wouldn't have stopped with that blow. I would've kept going until you were dead…"

Then why don't you?

"But I will teach you to recognize when attacks are coming. I will increase your tolerance of pain. As my servant and apprentice I will teach you everything I know."

Servant….Servant?!

Robin hit Slade as hard as he could in the jaw.

"Why you little—"

"You said I was supposed to be ready for attacks, why not be ready to initiate them myself?"

Why not tell him the real reason you sucker punched him? Are you afraid of punishment from him? He's not your superior …

"Ha. Very good. That was ruthless and dishonorable. Good boy."

The line on his face went up just a little, and Robin matched it.

"I see what you did there."

"An eye for an eye."

Robin immediately regretted that.

If Slade didn't hit him hard before, he sure was going to him hard now. Slade's good eye grew wide, and his smile grew and yet faltered. He didn't even have to tell Robin that was a low blow, it was simply understood. Robin shivered. He was at a loss to understand how they'd developed this odd connection—a connection no one, not even his friends could understand.

Then Slade tripped him. Robin felt himself falling back and Slade grabbed his shirt and held him in such a way that Robin's feet weren't fully on the ground, and if he let go of his shirt Robin would fall and hit the ground hard.

"When I let go, I want you to hit me with everything you've got, understand?"

You sound a lot like…but that's not possible. It's not.

"I may become like a father to you…"

Slade let go. Robin hit the floor, Slade tried to punch him but Robin ducked out of the way. He got up as quickly as he could, but as soon as he did, Slade was there, waiting. He hit Robin in the jaw and then kicked him in the back twice.

Robin smiled. He could taste the blood, his heart was going to come out of his throat it was beating so fast. This was what he lived for.

Alright, you wanna go?

Slade smiled. He knew that was what Robin lived for.

"Yes. I told you to hit me with everything you've got didn't I?"

Robin hit him in the ribs, the jaw, the leg—

But Slade wasn't taken in. Every time Robin went on the offensive Slade hit him somewhere he could've protected if he gone on the defensive.

Slade hit him in the back on the left side for the fourth time. That wasn't Robin's Achilles Heel but they both knew it could be if Robin didn't step up his game.

Robin pulled a move he hadn't pulled in a while. A back flip. That hit Slade in the chin. Robin saw his handy work—Slade staggered back, surprised. Robin hit him again in the jaw.

Your Achilles Heel just happens to be the golden goose everyone seems to be after—what's under the mask. And I'm gonna find out who you are under than mask, even if I have to beat it off you.

Robin made sure to hit him on the side that Slade couldn't see, just feel. Just when Robin thought he had the upper hand, Slade grabbed his arm and pulled it back. Panic took over.

OhGodhe'sgonnabreakithewoulddoittoo.

Slade pushed him to the ground. He put his foot on the left side of Robin's back. All of Slade's weight was pressing on those ribs.

He bent down and whispered in his ear, "That was very good. Very, very good Robin. But I blocked your moves too often. The move that surprised me was the backflip. Where'd you learn that—the circus?"

Slade's breath smelled like blood.

He knows. And he knows I know.

"First thing you've got to learn from me is to give someone their own weaknesses—don't just wait for them to reveal themselves to you. But you will learn in time. Now come with me."

Slade got off of him and waited for him to get up. Every part of his body was tired. He just wanted to lie on the cool ground and sleep. But knowing Slade, that wasn't an option.

Slade offered him his hand.

"If you serve me, I'll let your friends live."

If Robin too his hand…that was his Rubicon. If he took the hand of his greatest foe…He didn't even realize he'd already started to hold out his left hand to him.

Slade took his hand with a firm grip and pulled him up quickly. Robin's back felt like needles were piercing his ribs and lungs in his back. This wasn't something he was going to recover from anytime soon. And Robin knew Slade knew it hurt—that was why he'd offered his right hand, because Robin would have to reach out with his left where it hurt.

Slade took out the remote that could kill Robin's friends. The tension returned to Robin's muscles, the adrenaline began its cycle again.

"There is something I want to show you about this remote—and the probes in your friends."

Slade seemed to be waiting for Robin to say something, but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes fixed on the remote in Slade's hand.

"I can adjust the level of pain they feel when the probes activate inside them. Pick one of them."

"What?"

"My hand is on level one. Now pick one of your friends to experience level one."

"You said you wouldn't hurt them if—"

"If you did exactly what I said, I know."

"Well then what did I do wrong?"

"It's not what you've done, it's what you're probably not going to do."

What is he talking about? What am I not going to do?

"Pick one of them, Robin. Now."

"But—"

"Robin."

Robin sighed, "Raven."

If anyone's got a tolerance to pain, she does. She can fight it. I pray to God she can fight it.

He watched the probes activate.

I'm so sorry Raven. Better to have you alive in pain then to be dead.

The probes were active for about five seconds, then Slade deactivated them and put the remote back in his pocket.

"From now on I want you to call me master. No one will ever know about this, I promise. This is your second lesson—patience and self-control. Control when you shouldn't have to be controlled. Patience when every instinct you have does not want to be patient. Obedience when you want to rebel."

Slade looked from Robin to a mop in the corner.

"Will you go clean up the blood on the floor before you go bed?"

No. I won't do it. I won't say it. I won't.

But Robin looked back at the screen showing the probes flowing through Raven's body. He hated himself. He hated Slade for doing that to him, for doing that to her.

He took a deep breath and muttered, "Yes."

"What did you say?"

"I said yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes…master."

That was what would always haunt him-how Slade hadn't gotten in his head and used and abused him. What would bind them together would be this moment, this secret. Robin knew Slade would never tell anyone he had gotten Robin to call him master because that would spoil the fun. The connection they had was founded on mutual respect as rivals, and an empathy that neither could fully understand-and now this secret.

Slade nodded and turned away from Robin.

Robin cleaned up the blood and went to the little area of Slade's domain that was his. There was a mattress on the floor, and a restroom a few yards away—in short, it wasn't much. Robin's anger boiled inside him. He didn't know if he wanted to hit something, scream, or say every cuss word he knew—or do all three.

He went into the restroom and looked in the mirror. He bruised and bloodied all over. Dried blood came from his nose and mouth, and cuts near his eyes were still bleeding. He wondered if Slade's face was similarly beaten like his under the mask. Robin took off his shirt to see the damage done to his back. The left side was black and blue—shoulder blade and ribs. The his chest was bruised too, but compared to his back, the bruising was sky blue compared to his back which was as black as night.

The anger was about to boil over. He looked at his own body in disgust. He'd never taken such a beating in his entire life. He'd never called anyone master before and had never thought he would. Slade hadn't just broken a few ribs, he'd also broken Robin's pride, and what made it worse was that he used one of Robin's friends to do it. The anger boiled over and Robin threw up blood into the sink and collapsed to the floor and got in a ball.

Oh Bruce…if you could see me now you'd laugh in my face and spit in my eye. How have I sunk so low? How have I sunk this low? Calling Slade master? How did I sink so low?

When his friends told him Slade was dead, he wanted to believe them. But the pain was too real.

Slade kicked him down the stairs, and kicked him in the same place he'd always kicked him: the left side, in the back. Right on the shoulder blade or in the ribs. The old, familiar pain returned.

"Slade…"

Slade kicked him again.

"Master…stop…please."

"No, Robin. I won't stop."

Slade grabbed him by his shirt so that his feet weren't even touching the floor.

"I am the thing that keeps you up at night."

"I may even be like a father to you someday…"

"The evil that haunts every dark corner of your mind."

"Where did you learn to do that back flip—the circus?"

"I will not rest, and neither will you. Lesson four, son—conviction."

Slade knocked the wind out of him with one hand, and threw him to the floor with the other.

"My friends say you're not real."

"You think you could've gotten all those bruises from someone who wasn't their?"

"All these bruises…and you don't have a scratch. Nothing. The last time I fought you, I made you bleed. You're good. You're very good Slade, but you're not that good."

"I am the evil that haunts every dark corner of your mind."

"Every dark corner…my friends are right. You're not real."

"You and I, we had a connection. We understood each other. Dead or alive, I will always be your master. That is the secret truth you and I both know. I've always been your superior in fighting and psychology and we both know it. And I'm real enough to finish you—"

Robin turned on the lights and Slade, the phantom, the master, the psychopath was gone.