Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Teen Titans. DC comics does. Still, I like to dream....
Robin pressed a finger to his ear subconsciously, wondering if Slade was still listening to him. He leaned against a wall of a crowded coffee shop, grateful for this small bit of freedom. For a year he had been Slade's apprentice. A year of pure hell. Robin lifted his head and gazed around. Sometimes Raven would haunt this coffee shop.
If the Titans came in here now, would they recognize him now? His black hair, spiked back in the days he was a Titan, was flat and cut short military style. No—he corrected himself—he was still a Titan. A Titan dressed in a villain's costume. He was dressed in casual cloths, just jeans, a black shirt and matching jacket. To anyone else in the coffee shop he would appear to be a kid in his late teens.
No one of consequence.
For the past year he had cultivated his image carefully, biding his time as he concocted a plan of escape and betrayal. At first he resisted, enduring Slade's punishments and threats in youthful defiance. He was a hero, trained by Gotham's Dark Knight to solve crime, not the apprentice of psychopaths. He consoled himself by repeating over and over that he would gain Slade's trust, learn all he could about him, and then turn. When he and the Titans failed to resolve the situation by violence Robin was forced to acknowledge the fact that he would have to outwit Slade. Somehow.
"Richard!" the barista called.
Robin strode towards the counter and grabbed his coffee, not quite meeting the barista's eyes. He turned and sat down resolutely at an empty table, determined to try to enjoy his ten minutes of freedom. He was not in costume now, neither as Robin or as Slade's apprentice. Slade had long ago torn down the fragile barrier between hero and civilian. Robin's fingers tightened around the warm coffee cup. He couldn't even have the solace of his real identity to hang on to. Slade first took away his identity as Robin, the boy wonder and protégée of the Dark Knight, and just recently took away his identity as Richard Grayson the acrobat.
The official story in Gotham was that Dick Grayson went to an international boarding school, somewhere where reporters could not find him. Although Robin chided himself for not escaping the situation himself, he wondered when Batman would come. Bruce was the world's greatest detective, surely he could figure something out. But no.
"Haha Joey!" a child's voice called out shrilly. "You can't beat me!"
He turned at the sound of the voice. Two boys, no older than eight and ten, played with action figures as their mother ordered coffee. To his surprise he saw that the older boy was playing with a Robin action figure while the other boy played with a Power Rangers figurine. Robin didn't even know that people made these things based on him. He found that he could not stop staring at the figurine as the boys continued to play.
No one would ever make an action figure based on Slade's apprentice.
"HEY!" the boy shrieked. "YOU BROKE ROBIN!"
Their mother turned angrily to quiet them, but the boy burst into tears as he clutched the Robin figurine. Its arm was broken off. Some of the other costumers glared at the mother, blaming her for the disturbance of the peace. Without thinking Robin held out a hand to the wailing boy.
"Let me see it."
"Why should I?" The boy asked, pressing the broken action figure to his chest. "You could break it even more."
"I can fix it."
Hesitantly, the boy clambered into the seat opposite Robin and handed him the action figure. Robin glanced down at it, examining the damage. It wasn't broken. The arm could be easily snapped back into place. Robin pushed the arm back into place and handed it back to the boy.
"What do you say, honey?" the mom asked, noticing Robin.
"Thank you, mister," the boy mumbled.
"Really, thanks," said the mom. "He loves that thing. He's been holding onto it ever since Robin disappeared."
Joey, the boy's brother, wandered over to Robin's table. He took another seat and began to play with his action figure on the tabletop. Robin glanced casually at his watch. He still had a few more minutes before Slade would come meet him here.
"Strange, isn't it?" Robin replied, sipping his coffee. "I wonder where he's gone."
"Jump lost a fine hero," the mother replied, now taking a seat at his table. "I remember when he first came onto the streets in Gotham as the boy wonder."
"No older than your son is now," he said. "A boy wonder indeed."
"He'll come back!" exclaimed the little boy. "He has to!"
Robin looked at the boy with a despondent expression. Ever since living in the Tower, he only heard about his alter-ego at school. His classmates spoke of Robin with awe. It was a small shock to find people who still knew of him, who still wished for his well-being even though he disappeared without a trace. But after all he had done he didn't deserve the public's goodwill. Not as Robin or as Slade's apprentice. He glanced at his watch again. Five minutes.
"I don't know if I can."
He spoke in a low voice, low enough only for the family to hear. At first they looked confused, but the boy reacted first. His eyes grew wide with awe as he answered in an equally-low voice.
"You're…Robin?"
"Not anymore."
"But…but…how can I be sure that you're the real Robin?"
His heart began to pound against his chest. What was he thinking? Batman warned him never to reveal his secret identity to anyone. He hadn't even revealed his identity to the Titans—but still, Slade knew. How ironic. From an inside pocket he pulled out his old communicator. It was broken. Slade threw it against the wall when he found out Robin still had it. He handed it to the boy.
"I am. I'm still around, but not as Robin." Robin finished the last dregs of his coffee and grimaced. "In a few minutes the man who is holding me captive will come in."
They sat in silence. What had began as a pleasant conversation over coffee had turned into something more sinister. The mother pressed her children closer to herself. Robin wished his mother was still alive to give him hugs. Then he would have never known Bruce, never known the Titans…Starfire…but above all he would not be in this situation at all.
"I think we should go," the mother said. "Should I call the police or—"
"Please don't do that. I am in constant danger and so are the Titans." A sudden thought struck him. Robin pulled out a pen from an inside pocket and began to write on a napkin. "But before you go, could you pass a message onto the Titans?"
He handed the mother the napkin. She took it with trembling hands and put it carefully into her purse. It was just a short note. He said nothing about the nanobots or Slade's threat, for he figured he could probably wrote a novel on the subject. Besides, Slade may find out. Robin didn't want this young family in danger because of him. Robin could see Slade ambling down the street dressed in civilian attire, passerby glancing nervously back at his eye-patch.
Thirty seconds.
"Put it in an envelope addressed as fan-mail…name the sender Richard Grayson."
"All…alright," she replied softly. "Let's go."
The family left. Yet again Robin was left alone. No family. No friends. Nothing except the bitter relationship between him and Slade. Some days he wanted to crack, wanted to betray his intentions prematurely to allow his bottled-up rage escape him. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Slade walk in, the open door bringing in a gust of cool air. The mercenary sat across from him, occupying the chair that the boy sat in.
"Good afternoon, Dick."
Robin forced himself to meet Slade's eye. Sometimes he wondered if Slade knew of his plan to betray. It wouldn't surprise him if Slade did. The man could use 90 per cent of his brain, after all. He was a brilliant tactician.
"'Afternoon," Robin replied, resentful that Slade used his old nickname. "I presume everything's in order?"
"Of course. Are you ready?"
"Since the day I was born."
In unison they stood up. The detonations were set. Some of the guards may get hurt, but it was all part of the plan. The Titans would probably show up, but by now they accepted his betrayal and fought without holding back. Even Starfire.
Robin thrust a hand into his pocket, but to his surprise he found something there. Without taking the object out, he felt it. It was one of the action figures the brothers had. The younger one, Joey, must have slipped it into his pocket when he wasn't looking. A smile spread across his face.
"I am glad to see that you are excited," Slade said, putting a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Excellent, my apprentice."
Author's Note: Okay, only my second oneshot! Reviews appreciated for both this and "Here for you"! I'm contemplating expanding this into a full story. I know the apprentice episodes have been overdone, but I those episodes are still my favorite.