A/N: M'kay, this is actually, like, a really fast update for me as plenty of other readers will attest to *wince*. But really I'm actually quite proud of myself all things considered. Normally it takes me forever to edit and stuff (the reason for the relatively short chapters and long waits between updates), but actually, it was really easy writing drugged out Robin. Slade, on the other hand... grrr. From Robin's point of view, it's not too bad, but Slade's pov is just - just - GAH! I'm going to kill him!

Enough of my rambling already. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, by the way. You guys rock!

Aw cripes, I forgot the disclaimer on the prologue didn't I? *checks* Yup, yup I did. Bad, bad Everwild!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable from Teen Titans, in this chapter OR the prologue. So there!

Anywho, here ya guys go! Enjoy

Revised as of 8/5/2010. Really, it's not much, just a few things I wasn't happy with.


Chapter 1: In the Clouds

… For the longest time, there was only quiet, only the pitch darkness swirling out from the previously untouched corners of his mind, only the absence of pain and the blissful ignorance of unconsciousness…

… Then the dreams - the nightmares - came to him, inevitable and unrelenting…


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

The gears and cogs clicked away in the background, swallowed up in the shadows. The four screens showing the inside of his friends' bodies cast an eerie red glow.

"I already have a father."

On the roof of one of Wayne Enterprise's many branches, Slade's weapon lifted and fired up, pointed straight at Starfire's heart. God, he didn't want to do this.

"Robin, you are my best friend, and I cannot live in a world where we must fight. If you are truly evil, then go ahead, do what you must…"

He couldn't do this.

"Robin, calm down, we just want to talk!" Cyborg, one of his best friends…

"I guess there's nothing to talk about." Beastboy, angry, ready to attack him.

Then they were hurting, they were dying because of him - no! Because of Slade. Screaming and burning… he didn't want this, he had never meant for this to happen.

Everything he didn't want to be, everything he had fought against since the day he took that vow years ago in a dark cave, everything he hated… he had become.

So disappointed, so disappointed in me… Bruce, I- I wish… I've let him down. God, he's going to hate me, won't even be able to look at me now. Nothing more than a common criminal.

For them, it's all for them, but they don't even know… they think this is who I really am, a thief, a liar. Traitor.

So, so tired… Slade's hand tangled in his hair, yanking and pulling. I want to punch his sadistic face in!

"All my knowledge, all my power, all for you… and all you care about are your worthless. little. FRIENDS!"

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

I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy, I'm not going crazy!… I'm losing my mind

A flash of orange and black, vanishing almost before he could recognize its presence. Driving him insane.

I'm nothing like him! I'm not!…

No,

No,

NO!

… Silence again, blessed, sweet silence… no more dreams.

… There was pain… all over… he was dead, he knew he was dead.

… Every inch of him hurt, not terribly so, but he still felt positively wretched. His throat was the worst of it, throbbing, burning, so hard to swallow. The inside of his mouth felt like sandpaper. Each and every breath was agony, scraping against his throat, drying his parched tongue. Perhaps he was alive after all.

Robin moaned but didn't dare open his eyes. His head felt so very heavy, and his mind was all muzzy, his dreams still flickering behind his eyes. There was no way in hell he was going anywhere, and why would he even want to? Whatever it was he was laying on was perfectly fine for the time being, his limbs felt like lead, dragging him down. He couldn't move an inch if he tried.

Something warm touched the side of his face, fingers gently carding through his hair… It felt sooooo good, so nice, like his mother was there beside him, silently soothing him as he fought off a fever. He could picture her perfectly, perched on the edge of his bed, a sad little smile, warm eyes watching him.

He sighed, wincing slightly as the air rushed harshly over his tender throat.

"Almost there, my apprentice…" The words didn't even register in Robin's mind, nor the familiar voice that spoke them.

Unconsciously, Robin leaned his head towards the hand that was petting him, enjoying the light tingling feeling that spread down his spine at the touch, raising goosebumps on his arms and neck. "Mmmm…" he sighed, utterly content.

He heard a light chuckle - Who was laughing at him? he thought, indignantly - and then the hand went away, leaving him feeling a little colder than before. No, come back…

There was some sort of white noise in the background, so loud, beating against his eardrums. How had he missed it before now?

Awareness trickled in slowly… That sound… An engine? Where was he?

Robin opened his eyes, peeling them open one at a time, wincing at the painfully bright light that was all around him. Another groan.

"Welcome back, my boy." He knew that voice, he knew it from somewhere… The thought faded quickly from his mind, forgotten only a moment later.

When his eyes had adjusted properly, he realized that he was actually strapped upright in a chair in the back of a cockpit. Odd, he could've sworn he'd been laying down.

Slade was sitting in the seat to the front and across from his, leisurely steering the plane through the clouds. The man turned back and looked right at him, cold grey eye sparkling maliciously, piercing him straight through.

Robin attempted to lift his head into a more dignified and comfortable position, but immediately let it fall back against the seat with a dull thud when the world started to spin dizzyingly around him, bringing to focus his rolling stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Don't push yourself, Robin. The gas is still working its way out of your system, and I'm afraid I can't allow you to stay awake too long anyway." Slade's smooth voice reached him through a long tunnel, fuzzy and quiet. Robin felt absolutely miserable.

He saw Slade flip a switch up front and a green light came on. The man stood and came over to sit beside him, rifling quickly through the contents of a duffle bag lying on the floor. He removed a little brown bottle and shook it slightly, squinted at the label for a moment before he moved in, looming over him where Robin sat drugged and immobile.

Robin didn't like him so close! This man had done terrible things - terrible things to him… if only he could remember what they were.

"Unghnnooo…" he mumbled, the words coming out slurred and garbled, "D-don'… mmmm…wannenny…" His tongue was a heavy, fleshy weight in his mouth, so difficult to get it to move the way he wanted. He was tired of talking, he just wanted to get away.

"Just relax, Robin. I'd really rather you didn't struggle: it'll make this much easier for you if you don't." said Slade calmly, watching him, "Less painful for you as well."

Panic squeezed Robin's heart as Slade popped the lid off the tiny bottle and brought it right up to his slack mouth. At the cool touch, Robin instantly sealed his lips shut, shaking his head slightly from side to side. He tried to shuffle back, to move away from whatever poison was in that bottle, but he just couldn't. His body felt so heavy.

Slade laughed quietly, amused. When would the boy learn?

Indifferent, he shrugged. "So be it."

A large black clad hand clamped around Robin's jaw and yanked him around so that he was facing the dark, blurry man beside him. No! Unforgiving fingers dug into his cheeks, forced him to open his mouth enough for Slade to pour a dribble of the clear, bitter liquid inside. Robin held the stuff on his tongue, refusing to allow it to slide down his throat and do God-knows-what to him.

Adjusting his position, Slade moved to hold his mouth tightly and ruthlessly shut while his other hand darted forward and pinched his nose. Suffocating, eyes watering, Robin swallowed and Slade released him.

"Good boy."

He frowned. God, how Robin hated that voice. He didn't want to hear it anymore, wanted it to just go away. "Leeeave… uhhh… mmme 'lone."

Slade responded simply and with the utmost confidence, not even bothering to look at him, "Never."

The single word was damnation, a promise of hell to come, and somewhere in Robin's blurry mind he understood this.

A deadening haze crawled over him and Robin's eyes drifted shut once more. The aches, the fear, the anger, all of it slipped away and Robin just felt so tired. He was falling… falling…

Just like they fell all those years ago…

He watched them tumble through the air, saw their eyes widen the moment the cable snapped… heard the sickening crack as their bodies collided with the ground…My fault… I should have done something.

Then it was dark once more, and Robin was alone…


Slade watched as the boy's head fell to the side, masked eyes closed, breathing in short gasps. It was unfortunate that he had to keep Robin sedated throughout the trip - unfortunate but necessary, and actually quite entertaining for him to watch.

The boy had nightmares, he discovered, occasionally mumbling in his drug-induced sleep, giving Slade a unique insight into the boy's psyche. Not all of it was coherent, but the man had a general idea what was tormenting his apprentice. Mostly, to his immense satisfaction, the dreams had been about him and the boy's time as his apprentice, but they eventually evolved to focus more on Robin's friends and occasionally his old mentor, the Batman.

How sweet.

Slade sighed and leaned back against the leather seat, eyeing Robin carefully. The boy looked especially young like this, a child who was in way over his head. But Slade knew that an intelligent mind worked behind that face and that the boy's lean muscles had been trained to fight, possibly kill. A worthy choice, if only he would drop his ridiculous delusions about 'good and evil'. The world was not so black and white as the boy believed, and that was one of the first lessons Slade was going to have to teach him.

Slade smiled.

One day, Robin would realize what a fool he'd been to refuse him. And that day would mark the end of the Batman's brat, the dawning of a new age. Together, they would be an unstoppable force.

But all of that would come in time, with the proper training and discipline, of course. Soon, it would no longer be an issue of force but Robin's own willingness to come to him, to obey and to learn.

Slade glared down at the stubborn boy, currently oblivious to the world and his scrutiny.

Mine! he thought fiercely, with pride.

Slade turned towards the window to judge their location and smiled as he watched the rolling hills far below. "Home at last," he said quietly. Then, with a quick glance back at his apprentice, "We're home at last."

Though the plane was perfectly capable of landing itself, Slade picked himself up and took his seat in the pilot's chair once more, fingers already flying over the different controls. Hand resting on the accelerator, Slade allowed his eyes to close for a moment, savoring the feel of the plane's engine at his fingertips. He should really fly more often.


Robin really was far too light for a boy his age, Slade mused as he walked down the darkened corridor, footsteps echoing off the hard wood all around the walls. He was carrying the boy, bridal style, to his new room, which he had previously decided would be on one of the lower levels of the aged mansion, and Robin had not yet stirred.

Slade turned, left, left, right, down another flight of stairs, right, right… Ah, there it was - the only door with an electronic lock, halfway down the hallway. He punched in the code quickly and slid the key card home, opening the reinforced, steel door with a quiet hiss.

The room was large enough, and well furnished, not even remotely close to the prison-like cell Robin would probably be expecting. The only thing that set this room apart from any other was the advanced security on the door, the denser and more durable walls, and the three small cameras situated throughout the room at different strategic angles.

Quickly and silently, Slade plodded across the room and dropped Robin's still form unceremoniously on the large double bed. Slade's single eye narrowed as he gazed down at his apprentice; that gaudy uniform of his would definitely have to go.

He stayed like that for a few seconds more, picturing the boy in his colors, orange and black, standing proudly by his side. But then, with a small almost inaudible sigh, he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

Now to see how the rest of those damned Titans were faring against the Brotherhood…


The first thing Robin noticed upon waking, besides the pain in his throat, was that he was lying on something delectably soft. Silky sheets caressed him, a mound of fluffy pillows rested beneath his head. His entire body felt reasonably sore, but the comfort of this bed he was on nearly cancelled it out.

He sighed and opened his eyes.

This… wasn't his room.

He was lying on a queen-sized four poster bed in the middle of a lavishly decorated bedroom, a little bigger than the one he had back at Titans Tower. Robin puzzled over this for a moment, brow furrowed, mouth gaping… and then it came back to him.

Slade had taken him from the Brotherhood of Evil's headquarters, using some sort of gas to knock him out, and he remembered something about a plane, a little brown-tinted bottle. But even so, this was… unexpected. The few nights that he'd spent working for Slade, he had slept in a small box-like room, empty but for a thin sleeping pad in the corner. So why had Slade put him in here? It made no sense.

Robin decided to just drop the issue; since when had anything involving Slade ever made sense? Besides, a gilded cage was still a cage, no matter how comfortable and inviting it seemed at the time.

Rolling his eyes, Robin forced himself up into a sitting position, wincing a bit as a pounding headache made itself known. Stupid gas…

Robin swung his legs over the side of the bed and paused a few moments to mentally prepare himself for the sickening dizziness he was sure to feel upon standing. He wasn't disappointed.

Swaying slightly, Robin walked across his room and automatically jiggled the door's handle. Locked of course, but it would have been ridiculous not to try it anyway. He gave it a sharp kick, putting all his strength behind it, but all he got for his trouble was an aching foot.

It didn't matter, he told himself, he'd find a way out of this eventually. Slade couldn't just keep him here forever. He had kidnapped him for a reason. That door would be opened from the outside at some point during his stay, and the moment Slade had his back turned, Robin was so out of there.

Determined, Robin looked more closely at his cell (it couldn't be called anything else, regardless of the comfortable atmosphere) and spotted at least two cameras hidden in the shadows along the walls. He smirked and removed them, crushing the small electronics in his fist. There wasn't anything else as far as he could tell, nothing in the suite bathroom, nothing in the bedroom.

That couldn't be all of it, he thought, maybe he put some tracking device on me while I was out.

Robin scanned every inch of his suit, patting himself down in search of the little protrusion such a device would make, examining his cape, his boots, his skin. When he had at last reassured himself that there was nothing on his body that hadn't been before, he slumped into the nearest chair and put his head in his hands. Slade might've been able to place something under his skin (shudder) but he couldn't find any new scars or cuts either, so he put the thought from his mind and focused on another matter that was bursting to be addressed.

He was worried, not only for himself, but for his friends as well, and the new allies that they had searched all over for and, subsequently, placed in immediate danger. How long had it been since he'd last seen them? How many days had gone by while he had been held captive, unconscious, useless? They could be out there, fighting for their lives at this very moment or possibly already frozen by the Brotherhood of Evil, and he was sitting here in this luxurious room, unable to try and help them.

They'll be alright, they're strong, much stronger than I am, and the Brotherhood can't track them anymore. They couldn't all have been captured, not yet.

There was nothing he could do for them, at least at the moment, so it really wouldn't do any of them any good to sit there thinking about it. Escape first, then find the Titans.

"You can't keep me here forever, you know," he muttered, knowing that somehow Slade would be able to hear him, "I'll get out of here, just like last time, and then I'll take you down."

"What makes you think you can, my boy?"

Robin started violently at the sound of the man's voice so close and jerked his head up to see his arch enemy standing serenely before him, hands clasped behind his back, as if he didn't even view Robin as any sort of threat.

"I've done it before." he growled, getting - as quickly as he could in such a miserable state - to his feet.

"With the help of your friends. On your own, however, you don't stand a chance."

All the frustration, guilt, and fear rushed to the forefront of his mind and he lunged forward without a second thought, a furious battle cry tearing from his abused throat.

The first punch missed as Slade dodged smoothly to the side, and the second was caught in a gloved fist, temporarily immobilizing him. Slade then dealt a swift kick to his midsection that knocked the boy painfully to the ground on his back. Clutching his once more rebelling stomach, Robin jumped to his feet, stumbling when the familiar blackness encroached on his vision. Slade took advantage of this, sending a quick uppercut to the Boy Wonder's jaw that very nearly knocked him out.

"You can't fight me, Robin, especially not as you are." said Slade, indicating Robin's slack form.

"Oh yeah?"

Robin charged once again, and he nearly tripped over his own feet, still extremely dizzy and light-headed. But he ignored this and prepared to kick Slade hard in the jaw. He paid dearly for it a second later, when Slade caught his foot mid-strike and threw him carelessly into the reinforced wall.

Panting, Robin tried to push himself up once more, but to his own immense frustration, found that he couldn't. His body was just too tired, muscles still a less responsive from the sedative.

"I'm glad we had this little chat, Robin, but unfortunately I have other business to attend to and no more time to spare for your childish tantrum. Enjoy your new room."

The door clicked shut behind him as Slade left Robin to his unhappy thoughts, grinning in satisfaction. Robin was forced to lay there for another several minutes before he was finally able to move. He got up slowly and stood, glowering at the door. Slade could play his sick little games as much as he wanted, but the next time that man stepped through the door, Robin would be ready, and Slade would pay for his various crimes.

Robin groaned. Who was he kidding? Slade could kick his ass with or without the sedatives running through his system.

He was so screwed.


A/N: So yeah, I hope you liked it. :D Slade's a creeper.

Drop me a line and tell me what you think in a review. Pretty, pretty please?

See ya next chapter!