Big thanks to krikanalo, Livie201, and toolazytoobored for reviewing the last chapter. Virtual cookies for you all!
"Look around Robin, observe," Slade held out a hand, as though presenting Gotham City to Robin. Robin's eyes were wide behind his domino mask, and a smirk was working its way onto his face. It was dark, dingy, and altogether unexciting – but for Robin, this was a treat. "You see Robin," said Slade as they walked together, both shooting disgusted looks at the two homeless people fighting over a meal by their feet, "there are the filth," he then nodded his head towards a thug, who was attempting to steal a car, "the low criminals – and in Arkham there are the high criminals." Robin nodded his head in understanding and he shot a glare at the low-life thug. The only criminals worth their time were the ones in Arkham Asylum. He wondered if they'd get to visit there, he'd love to see all of the famous criminals.
"So, why are we here?" asked Robin after a while, kicking a rock out of his path on the sidewalk. Slade didn't answer, but Robin was used to this. Slade would eventually tell Robin why they were here, he just needed to be patient. He'd learned that it's always best to be patient with Slade. He'd end up getting an answer out of his master sooner or later. Impatience with Slade either got him nowhere or a visit to Wintergreen sporting a rather nasty bruise.
They continued to walk in silence, Robin observing everything around him. He began to wonder why Batman – why anybody – would try to protect a city such as this. Robin almost rolled his eyes. Superheroes.
"You look lost in thought," said Slade, and Robin shrugged. "Just wondering why anybody in their right minds would try to protect a city like this."
"Who said the Batman is in his right mind?" asked Slade rather slyly, and Robin chuckled. He probably was crazy. He did dress up as a giant bat after all. Crazy people did that. Dick Grayson went under the name Robin, but you didn't see him wearing a bird costume. No. Batman was definitely crazy. "You look happy," Slade said, breaking Robin from his thoughts. "It isn't a good look for you."
Robin didn't say anything to that. He wasn't sure whether to be ashamed or not. Slade had found him when he was eight, and took him in after his parents' death. He wasn't a father figure, far from it, but he was all Robin knew since… that night… he didn't remember too much of it, but what he did remember wasn't pleasant.
Dick was curled up in a ball, his body racked with sobs, ignoring the people shouting his name. His parents were dead. Dead! Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. He couldn't help but to remember their faces right before they fell. The way his mom had looked at him, had whispered his name, the fear in her eyes speaking more than words ever could. She knew that they were going to die, and that was the worst. A terrible scream. He wasn't sure who had made it – his parents or him. It took only seconds for them to hit the ground, but for Dick it was a lifetime. He watched as their slender bodies fell down… down… he couldn't look away, even when their bodies smacked the hard ground.
There were screams from the crowd, and a loud wailing coming from the circus tent. He knew he should have gone to his parents' side, but he couldn't bear to see their bodies. He had fallen to his knees, unable to comprehend what had happened. His cheeks were stained with tears, and his eyes were burning. He felt hollow inside, like he had died instead of his parents. Never before had he wanted to die, but he would gladly do it if it meant he could bring his parents back. He couldn't feel his heart beating, and for a moment he wondered if it had stopped. He didn't care. He wanted it to stop. He couldn't live without his parents. He kept replaying his parents' faces right before they fell. He was numb to the world, he didn't want to live in this world anymore. He wanted to die. Die and forget about this pain. He didn't feel the hand that rested itself on his shoulder, but he managed to look up. He wondered why there was a random blur standing next to him, when he realized that tears were covering his vision. He blinked his eyes, managing to catch a glimpse of the person. He was handsome, and there was a type of horror and sadness in his eyes that Dick couldn't comprehend. This man didn't know his parents. He didn't watch them die in front of him. He shouldn't be looking at Dick with understanding eyes. He knew nothing!
He had ripped himself from the man's grip, whoever he was, and raced away. He heard the man calling after him, and for a split second wondered how he knew Dick's name, but it was quickly replaced by the urge to run. To run and never look back. Maybe if he ran far enough, his parents would be alive. Maybe if he ran fast enough, the pain wouldn't hurt as much. And that was how he had been found by Slade. Curled up under a tree, crying his eyes out. Slade didn't have his mask on – he had white hair slicked back in a ponytail, and an eyepatch. Slade hadn't said anything, just told him his name. Dick hadn't responded, he didn't care about what this man's name was. His parents were dead, and that was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Slade told him that crying wouldn't make the pain go away, and that Slade knew how to make it go away. All Dick had to do was go with him… and Dick, an emotional wreck of a small child, went with who could or could not have been his savior…
Since then Slade had taken Robin on as an apprentice. He acted kind at first, even soothed Robin when he had nightmares about his parents, but as Robin grew older and more mature, Slade became colder and more firm with him. It was like he was a completely different man, and Robin often wondered if the nice Slade had been an act. He had stopped referring to Slade by his name. Instead he was forced to call him Master. Slade put him through brutal training, though he wasn't sure why. Now he knew, that Slade had wanted an apprentice all along. Richard "Dick" Grayson had been announced as dead (though no body was recovered) so Robin didn't use that name anymore. It rarely slipped past his lips – only Wintergreen was allowed to call him that and get away without a scratch. "So, where are we going?" Robin finally gathered the courage to ask, mentally flinching when Slade glared at him. Surprisingly, he answered Robin this time though. "We're visiting an old friend of mine who owes me a favor. He's allowing us to stay with him for a while until we… ah… sort things out."
"…okay." Whatever that means. He wanted to ask more questions, like who this person was, and why they were going there, and if he would be allowed to take his mask off, and if Slade would make him rob anything.
No, me. He automatically rebuked himself. You're supposed to be the one who enjoys robbing things for the hell of it, Grayson, get a grip on yourself.
Robin straightened himself up at this. He did enjoy stealing – he loved the thrill, the adrenaline that pumped through his body. He loved knowing that he could get caught, but always managed not to. This didn't make him cocky when he was committing a crime though – he didn't want the stupid pigs to be able to pin him down because his ego got in the way. No. He waited until he was home with his newest treasure to gloat and boast. Slade never seemed to mind this, though he did have to warn him not to let his ego get in the way at times. Robin had wanted to yell that Slade did it all the time, but who was he to judge? He was just a kid, a usable apprentice, it wasn't his place to talk to Slade disrespectfully.
This didn't mean he didn't have opinions – he just kept them to himself. He mentally groaned as they continued walking. He was starting to get bored. The city streets did nothing for him, in fact, he was pretty certain he'd passed the same house three times already, but he didn't say anything to Slade in fear of… well…
"We're here," said Slade finally, and Robin almost cried with joy. He turned, expecting to see something as extravagant as the mansion that they lived in, and winced at the sight of 'here'. Gotham City didn't seem to house rich people very much, but damn. The place looked like a warehouse revamped to appear like someone's home. That's probably exactly what it is, he realized. It was obviously old and not very well-kept. White paint was peeling off of the siding, which looked like layers of rust melted together. The windows were completely boarded up, and the door looked as though it would be very easy to kick down. Slade seemed to sense his apprentice's disgust at the sight, and hid a smirk. "I know it's not nice to look at," he said in a low voice, "but it's completely safe."
At first, Robin wondered exactly which part about this warehouse was 'safe'. Then he noticed the barbed wire fence surrounding the warehouse, and the almost unnoticeable camera's that looked as though they'd been installed for the purpose of spying. He shrugged, he would have preferred it to be more fortified, but he couldn't really complain. Especially not in front of his master. "Alright." Alright? That's all you have to say, Grayson?
Yes it is!
He had long ago separated Robin and Dick Grayson out in his head. He wasn't quite sure which was the voice of reason, but the two voices seemed to hate each other a lot. It didn't really strike Robin as odd that he was hearing voices in his head, even though it sounded like only crazy people heard voices in their heads. But this was different; he was hearing his own voices in his head. They just tended to argue with each other a lot.
…okay, so it did sound kind of crazy. But he just preferred to keep Robin and Dick separated, because their personalities conflicted too much, and he was pretty sure he'd be a drooling maniac if he allowed them to collide with each other. Robin was blood thirsty and didn't care about anyone or anything, while Dick was friendly and polite. For the most part anyway.
He trailed slightly behind Slade as they approached the warehouse. He had no idea who they were meeting, and he wasn't exactly thrilled to be there in the first place. Let Slade deal with it. This is so beneath you.
Even the ghost of Dick had to agree with that, you deserve a lot better after all you've put up with.
This was probably one of the only times his personalities seemed to agree with each other. He sighed; he should probably take up meditating or something, to try and keep the voices in his head from making random appearances. It didn't do well for his image as Robin or Dick Grayson. In fact, Robin really wasn't sure he even had his own voice to try and smooth out any argument that was going on up there.
Okay, he was definitely starting to sound crazy now. If he told that story to anybody, he'd without doubt be chucked in a loony bin. He almost chuckled at the thought of telling someone. "Yeah so I have two voices in my head that hate each other and always argue and it's really distracting me from stealing and stuff, so if you wouldn't mind telling them to shut up because I can't that would be terrific." He could practically see the person's scandalized face with these thoughts. He definitely wouldn't be telling anybody about the voices in his head.
Great. Now even he was referring to them as the voices in his head. Maybe him and Batman could get together for tea and talk about how crazy they were. The very thought was so amusing he accidentally let out a snort. Slade gave him a questioning look, but he lowered his face so that Slade couldn't see the curve of his lip. As if…
Deciding to ignore his apprentice, Slade knocked on the warehouse door three times, but not before he told Dick: "During our duration here, you will refer to me as Master or Deathstroke."
Um. Okay. Weird. But whatever. I refer to him as Master half the time anyway…
There was complete silence, and for a moment Robin thought that maybe they had gotten the wrong place. Please let us have gotten the wrong place…
His hopeful thoughts were quickly trampled down when a rustling came from the door and it opened. He narrowed his eyes through his mask, trying to block out the offending light that greeted them. "Come on in," a husky voice said, and Robin felt a hand wrap around his arm, gripping him tightly and pulling him inside of the warehouse. He ripped his arm from the grip of… whoever… and glared at the man. "You could have just said please," he spat out, rubbing his sore arm. The man ignored him, and Robin got a good look at him… or rather, what he was wearing.
"Black Mask," Slade said coolly, and Robin decided that the name was fitting. The man's face was completely covered by a black mask, formed with rather creepy skeletal features. Despite the fact that the mask was covering his whole face, the man's words weren't muffled as he spoke to Robin's master. "Deathstroke, I presume?"
"Correct. Meet my apprentice, Robin," he motioned for Robin to stand in front of him, and he reluctantly did so. He could feel the man's eyes boring holes in him even though he couldn't see anything behind the mask. He had to fight the urge to shiver… he didn't like this man very much. Then again, he didn't like a lot of people. Though he'd never really been creeped out by any before. This man accomplished something he didn't know anyone was capable of.
"Pleasure," said Black Mask finally, and Robin forced out a "Nice to meet you," through gritted teeth. Black Mask didn't seem offended in the least at Robin's less-than-welcome attitude, and Robin wasn't sure whether he should be happy or angry at that. "I guess it's time we got you situated then."
Robin narrowed his eyes beneath his mask, hating to think about what 'situated' would mean. It was obvious they'd be staying in this… forsaken warehouse… but that didn't mean he had to like it. In fact, he despised the very thought of it. Why couldn't I have just stayed at Slade's house with Wintergreen? This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I thought of visiting Gotham. What happened to not associating with low-life's Slade? Just because he has a 'bad guy' name, doesn't make him automatically a decent bad guy! Hell, if it weren't for the mask I'd completely brush by him!
Part of him knew he shouldn't be thinking bad things of his current host, but his pride was too injured at the thought of having to sink to this level during his stay in Gotham City. Maybe if I'm lucky we'll visit Arkham…
"Follow me," Black Mask said to Robin, who sighed and trailed after the man. He took a good look at his surroundings, becoming even gloomier at the mess which Black Mask obviously considered to be his 'home'. Black Mask halted so suddenly Robin almost crashed into him. "This will be your room while you're here, Robin." The only thing that Robin hated more than Black Mask addressing him by his name was the fact that he actually had a room in this dump.
"Thanks," he said in the most ungrateful voice he could manage. Somehow, Black Mask managed to ignore his tone, and pushed him until he was inside of the room. Robin sighed and looked around – it looked nothing like his house in the mansion, though he hadn't expected it to. He had no dresser, no desk, and no windows. He barely had space to put his duffle bag down, much less find a place to store his clothes. His gaze traveled over to the side of the room, where… is that a cot!?
It was better than sleeping on the floor, he supposed, but he despised the fact that he would have to go from sleeping in a comfortable bed to sleeping in… a cot. With one blanket hastily thrown on top of it. At least there was a pillow. Not to mention, the room was absolutely freezing. He turned to glare at the Black Mask, forgetting for an instant that the Black Mask wouldn't be able to see his angry expression through his domino mask. "Do you like it?"
Robin was about to answer truthfully, but then he saw the look in Slade's eye, which clearly stated: 'Say yes or you're in for a world of pain.'
"It's sufficient," he finally managed to get out, and he could have sworn the Black Mask was smirking under his skeletal mask. He obviously knew that this was killing Robin, which was the worst part of it all. Slade knew it too, though Robin couldn't hold it against him since Slade also looked very unsatisfied with the living situation.
"Good, good. I thought you might have found it to your liking."
Yeah. I'm sure you did.
"It's late, you should probably get to… bed… Robin," said Slade, seeming to hesitate over the word 'bed'. He too had spotted the uncomfortable-looking cot, and obviously wasn't very pleased by it. Robin would bet a million stolen bucks that Slade was hoping he wouldn't have to sleep in a cot at that moment.
"I don't mind staying up!" Robin said quickly, flinching at the angry gaze Slade fixed on him. "Now, Robin!"
"Yes Master," Robin mumbled, stumbling over to the cot. He didn't bother taking off his costume or armor – if anything, it would make the cot more comfortable to sleep on. Hopefully.
"Goodnight," said Robin unnecessarily, because Slade and Black Mask had already started walking away. Robin sighed and laid down on the cot, already feeling the back-ache that was sure to come. Hello restless sleep. Miss me?