Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans.

A/N: Hello Internet! I have returned. This is just me writing some warm-up oneshots since I didn't really write any fanfiction this past month. This isn't a story, but here I'll be posting some deleted scenes from Northern Star. Scenes that were deleted, scenes as they were originally written, concepts that never made it to the final cut and random head canon scenes that I wrote for my own amusement will be posted here.

This first one happened before the events of Northern Star. Remember that I skipped ahead a few months. This is a flashback that I cut out. It deals with the day that Dick stopped wearing his mask and started allowing Slade to call him Dick.

-DG-

Jump City, California

Slade's Haunt

Like every morning here at the Haunt, Dick found himself being shaken awake by Wintergreen.

When he opened his eyes found himself facing a blank white wall. Sometimes he woke up hoping that this whole apprenticeship was some horrible dream, but that was only wishful thinking. As soon as he was awake Wintergreen left the room. He probably had more important things to do than make sure that Dick left on time for training.

As Dick dressed he tried to remember what the date was. At first he didn't try to keep count of the days because he was sure that he would free himself in no time. He had been that optimistic, or perhaps arrogant was the correct word.

It was my own arrogance that brought me down, he thought glumly.

Once his initial defiance began to wear down he realized that he was ready for the Titans to come rescue him. He was ready for Batman to come rescue him. Still, every morning he woke up with the beginnings of an escape plan in his mind. By the end of the day he would come to the same unfortunate conclusion: it would never work. Slade had everything too figured out. The only weak point to Slade's blackmail was the fact that Slade never carried the controller around with him at all times.

He glanced at the tally marks he had made on the small space of walls behind the frame of his bed. He quickly counted the days and tried to come up with a date. His eyes widened in shock when his mind found one.

Is it really…he thought for a moment. Yes, it was the anniversary of his parents' deaths today. He collapsed back onto his unmade bed in astonishment. Had he really been here for so long? Somehow, the anniversary of his parents' deaths made everything seem more real. There was no way Slade would understand. He didn't expect Slade to understand and he had no intention of telling Slade what today was.

Well, he shouldn't stay here for too long or else Slade would get mad. Dick forced himself to stand up and make his bed. There was a military air about this place. Despite the fact that Slade was the villain here it seemed as though the Haunt was unnaturally clean. Sterile, almost. Dick didn't need anyone to tell him that Slade expected him to keep this room clean. It was an unspoken thing.

He picked up his mask and frowned at it. Slade already knew his secret identity. What would be the point of wearing it? Dick placed it back on his bedside table. Slade would make him take it off anyway. Up until this point he wore it as an act of defiance and to annoy Slade.

Today he just didn't care.

Dick walked out of his room and down the long, dark hallway towards the main room of Slade's haunt. He wondered vaguely what he had to do today. Then again, did it really matter? Even if he didn't want to learn how to break into banks or hack into White House security he would have to anyway.

He's trying to manipulate me into doing everything he orders without question, he thought unhappily. He doesn't even have to use the trigger to control me. That's what makes this all the more infuriating.

Dick didn't want the situation to become personal even though it already had. He understood just how precarious the situation was: even though Slade was capable of controlling him without the trigger he still felt the need to use it as a threat.

I guess the real question is: do I want to be controlled by him with the Titans alive or the Titans dead?

It was an unpleasant thought, but Dick found that he had too much time to dwell on such things. Besides, he wasn't sure what he would rather think about today: his current situation or the fact that today was the anniversary of his parents' death.

"You're not wearing your mask today," Slade said.

Dick didn't comment. He didn't want Slade to bring attention to the fact that he wasn't wearing his mask. But who was he kidding? Of course Slade would do that. Why wouldn't Slade do that?

"What? No backtalk today, Dick?" Slade shrugged. "Well, I'm not complaining."

Dick looked up at him, but said nothing. He didn't even say anything about Slade calling him by his real name. Usually, Dick would correct Slade and insist on being called Robin. But for the first time in years Dick felt as though the name was an insult. After all of the crimes Slade made him commit he didn't deserve to be called Robin anymore.

Especially not today, he thought, Robin marked the beginning of my vigilante career with Batman. My parents never knew me as Robin. Only as Dick Grayson.

He went through the motions, seemingly on auto-pilot all day. He demonstrated his insouciance by hardly speaking, his robotic answers to Slade's questions and his less-than-enthusiastic movements. After a few hours Slade began to get annoyed.

"Poor quality, Dick."

The younger man's eyes flickered upward, but still he said nothing. What else was Slade expecting? The insult didn't quite get through to Dick.

"When I ask you to do something I expect you to do it well. I shouldn't even have to tell you that."

"That was never part of the agreement."

Ah, now that made Slade mad, but Dick didn't care. Mere seconds after he spoke Dick knew that he was in trouble. Although he didn't feel like starting an argument he did feel the need to explain himself.

"I agreed to work for you, but I never said I would do it well."

He didn't speak with an angry, but rather a tired one. It wasn't that he was physically tired—but mentally so. It was because he knew that today was the anniversary of his parents' deaths. He hadn't even realized how long it had been since he had been blackmailed until he remembered what today was. Even though he felt as though this should make him fight back he just felt so tired. He was still angry at Slade, but for today he was tired of fighting.

A sudden punch to the face interrupted his thoughts. Dick stumbled backwards, his cheek stinging.

"What—?"

"Fight back."

Slade hit him again and again until Dick finally had enough. Dick's fist shot out as Slade goaded him into fighting back. They got into a scuffle that ended in a few seconds. For those few short seconds he felt angry enough to fight again. He actually tried to take his simmering anger out on Slade. He wanted to be away from here. He wanted to be in Gotham, to visit his parents' graves just once to say how sorry he was for getting himself into this mess.

"Had enough?" Slade asked.

Dick wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His anger faded as he looked away from Slade. The fight would only last as long as Dick wanted it to. Or unless Slade was severely pissed off.

"You started it."

"You don't listen well." Slade grabbed his arm and yanked Dick to his feet. "What's gotten into you today?"

Dick didn't answer. He didn't want to answer, but he also didn't want to make Slade angry. Today he felt like complete crap even without Slade's help. He felt as though he had failed his parents. He couldn't save himself. He couldn't get himself out of this situation and he was ready for Batman and the Titans to come help him. He couldn't do anything right. Dick forced himself to look up at Slade.

"This morning I realized that I won't ever win. You've won this battle, Slade. I accept that."

Perhaps it wasn't the best—or the most truthful—answer. But it was a safe answer that played to Slade's motives. Slade regarded him for a moment. To hear Dick accept his defeat was probably surprising, but again Dick didn't care. He just didn't want Slade to bother him anymore today.

"I'll say it again: everything you do I expect you to do well." Slade paused. "Even when you fight back."

Slade let go of him and turned to leave the room. Dick glowered at Slade's back. Usually, it was the other way around: he tried to annoy Slade because it was the only thing he could do nowadays. It annoyed him even more that he wasn't even allowed to passively go through this apprenticeship.

I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, he thought. I shouldn't have gotten myself into this.

A/N: Ultimately, the real reason why I decided not to add this is because I didn't want the story to get too angsty. I mean, yeah there's a lot of angst but if Dick starts bitching too much then I would want to slap him. Some of the other deleted scenes here were deleted because he started bitching too much and annoyed me. So what I would do is start out really angsty and then I would tone it down a bit.

There will be a few more. There aren't a lot of deleted scenes, but I said that I would post them.