Author's Note: Thanks a bunch for the helpful reviews! ^^ I'm glad that you're all enjoying it! ^_^

As with everything in life, writing is something that takes time and effort to develop. I've been writing for years and I only believe that I've truly improved within the past year or so. So, for all aspiring writers, time, work, effort, and great desire will help you achieve greatness. ^^

That's an excellent idea, Swallow Tale. I'll definitely try to weave that into the story.

On with the story!

Chapter Four

Wisdom of the Past

Only halfway through his sandwich and the tears were overflowing; streaming down his cheeks in deep waves. Robin kept his head down, unable to stop them; wishing that Slade wasn't the witness of his complete breakdown. It felt as if everything he had kept bottled up inside was pouring out of his soul.

He was weak.

He was a liar.

He was hungry.

He was exhausted.

He was the son of a criminal.

All he could do at that moment was swallow the sandwich that was laced with his tears. Why did he have to break down now, here of all places? Why'd it have to be in front of him? Anyone else would've been better. Anyone. Why'd it have to be Slade?

Robin finished sandwich, his breathing erratic and his chest heaving as he tried to regain his control. But it seemed as if it just wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Everything was just too much for him now. He was being crushed by all his faults, all the horrible lies that he had built around himself; just to protect himself.

But it wasn't protecting him at all; it was killing him.

Robin kept his head ducked, his hands clenched into fists as they were rested against the countertop. His shoulders were shuddering, racking beneath his silent cries. The hot beads of his tears continually streamed down his cheeks. Gosh, he felt such like a girl. He hated when this happened to him. Why couldn't he stop these tears—these freaking tears?!

Shame beyond anything he had ever felt rose up inside his entire being. He was at his weakest point at that very moment – he hadn't reached this low in eight years since his parents' deaths. And his weakest moment had an audience of one; and that one just had to be him.

No, no, no!

Why'd one have to happen now? Why is this happening now? Why can't I ever control these?!

Something slid into his sights. It was a box of tissues. Robin jerked his head to the side, avoiding it; his shoulders shuddering even more in their racking state. The box followed his head movement.

"I don't need it," snapped Robin, his voice choked and hoarse. Ugh, Robin hated just how weak his voice sounded at that moment.

"Really? Should I get a mirror?"

"Shut up."

"It's just tissues, Robin. Use them."

There was the sound of a tissue being pulled from the box as Robin did so. He pulled out another; and another. The tissues became soaked in his overwhelming wave of tears. But why couldn't his sobs be stopped? Why couldn't he ever control these awful weak moments? Why couldn't he have full and complete control over himself like Batman? Why couldn't he be a hard brick with his emotions; unbending and resilient.

And why was he losing it in this man's kitchen?!

Robin immediately tensed as he felt hands gently clasp his shoulders. He felt the man try to maneuver him away from the countertop. Robin gave in, allowing himself to be led away. Soon, Robin was pushed to sit down on the sofa. The box of tissues was placed inside his hands.

Robin kept his head down, not wanting to look up at the man and see his expression. Would there be a sneer there? Or would there be a look of pity? Or perhaps would there be a look of confusion? Whatever look was there, Robin just didn't want to see it. Each one meant something different and Robin wasn't sure which one he preferred to see.

A moment later, Robin felt something cold touch his face and he flinched slightly in shock.

"Drink this," said Slade. Robin turned his head to the side slightly to see a perspiring can of lemonade in Slade's hand. Robin accepted it.

"Thank you," whispered Robin automatically. He popped the can open and quickly took a deep drink from it; running the cool, sweet, yet tart liquid over his tongue and down his throat. It was gone in a few moments. His body shuddered slightly as another wave of tears slid down his cheeks.

Robin quickly ducked his head again, clutching the can in his hands so hard that they trembled.

He just couldn't understand it. Why was Slade being so… so kind? Everything the man was doing was so simple and soft; something that a normal human being would do when a distraught teenager had an emotional breakdown in their living room. Since when was Slade anything but a criminal? And why did he have such clean, orderly living quarters?

Robin's shoulders still shuddered underneath his weight; everything bearing down on him with its back creaking weight. The burden of protecting the city, the burden of lying to his friends, the burden of being a criminal's son, the burden of everything Robin ever knew was crashing down on him in a merciless compress.

Thus, time passed.

Time passed for Robin as he sat there, soaking endless tissues with his traitorous tears.

But then, finally, finally, the tears began to slow down. His hungered stomach began to settled slightly. His emotions began to settle down while further exhaustion set in. Everything seemed to lift slightly, the emotions clearing themselves away. The fog that had been over his mind began to lift.

Now what settled in its place was pure mortification.

Robin was completely mortified at himself. He was totally embarrassed, ashamed, humiliated that he had lost all control over his emotions right now. Not only that, he just happened to lose all that control in Slade's living room!

"Here," came Slade's voice. Robin felt something freezing touch his cheek again. Robin bolted to the side slightly, looking up at Slade without being able to stop himself. He was surprised by the man's impassive expression. He was neither sneering, nor pitying, nor confused – in fact, he looked like he knew exactly what he was dealing with here.

The man was holding a Häagen-Dazs ice cream bar. Robin blinked in surprised, his wet eyelashes sticking together slightly.

"Wha…?"

"Eat it," said Slade.

Robin slowly accepted it; unwrapping it before taking a bite. He set his empty can onto the coffee table. Slade sat down in the nearby single armchair; eating a bar of his own.

Now Robin was thoroughly perplexed.

But he ate the ice cream bar without questioning; just thankful to put something into his stomach. He found he liked Slade's choice, a vanilla chocolate bar with almonds. He ate in silence, his torrent of emotions beginning to fully calm down finally. At the end, he licked the stick clean and put it back into the packaging.

Somehow, he was beginning to feel a lot better now.

He quickly used more tissues to clean his face and blow his nose, shoving the used tissues into the packaging of the ice cream bar. After a moment, Robin took a deep cleansing breath.

Slade leaned forward in his chair, placing his finished stick inside its packaging and laying it onto the coffee table. Then, he leaned his elbows onto his knees as he observed Robin.

Robin felt heat rise in his face as the wave of embarrassment flooded over him. Oh gosh, he'd never been so humiliated in his entire life. Just what was Slade going to say? Just how much was he going to belittle him and make fun of him?

But for some reason, a part of Robin didn't think that Slade would do so, not after all that he did.

"These emotional breakdowns…" started Slade in a slow tone. Robin stiffened. "Do they happen often?"

Robin swallowed, going on the defensive. "Why do you care?"

Yeah, they happened often.

But Robin would sooner die then tell anyone. They were never as bad as this, though. This had to be his worst attack yet. He never could get them under control. There would just be those moments where everything seemed so heavy on his shoulders. He had managed to hide them from his friends.

But after the Red X incident, they were getting worse. The sleepless nights were getting worse; the lower appetite; the burdens of his job just seemed to get worse.

And then the best topper of them all: son of Slade.

All this culminating stress fell upon his shoulders ever since Slade had shown up in his city.

"Mary…" started Slade. Robin's eyes widened at his mother's name. "She would have moments like these. Quite often, in fact."

"Sh—she would?" gasped Robin. Slade nodded.

"She had some low blood sugar issues," said Slade, the light in his crystal blue fading slightly. "There would just be times where she would simply lose control over her emotions. A proper meal and a good bout of sugar usually did the trick. I learned to carry lifesavers in my pockets fairly early on. Pun was intended."

There was a small twitch in the man's mouth, as if he were trying to stop himself from smiling.

"I… I never knew," whispered Robin.

"She got better as she grew older," continued Slade. "She also learned how to prevent such things from happening."

Robin looked up at Slade, sinking his gaze deep into the man's crystal blue eye; seeking answers from the man.

"Have you been sleeping properly?"

Robin's jaw clenched and he had to avert his gaze. He just shook his head, not wanting to voice the reasons why.

"What about your eating habits?" asked Slade. Then, a wryness entered his tone. "Although I have a pretty good idea since the Teen Titans consume more pizza than the world can make."

Robin had to bite his lower lip in the effort to stop himself from smiling at that. Instead, he shrugged; still looking away. Slade let out a low sigh.

"Your lack of sleep and improper eating habits will account for such things. You need food; simple as that. You've probably inherited Mary's low blood sugar issues. When you feel yourself slipping like this, just eat something. It'll probably make you feel better and help you regain control over yourself."

It was so strange listening to Slade tell him this; tell him something so mundane and simple. But Slade's voice wasn't so annoying, so grating on Robin at that moment. The smoothness was actually soothing. The man's tone didn't have that usual smugness to it, which was the biggest irritant to Robin. It was simply a man's voice; deep, masculine, smooth, almost lulling in its manner.

Robin found himself studying Slade; looking at every contour of the man's face, soaking in the man's voice.

"So, are you going to tell me why you reached this point of no control?" asked Slade. Robin's eyes widened and he glanced away, his face flushing deeply. His chest lifted in a heaving double hitch of his breath.

"Why am I here?" whispered Robin, choosing to ignore the man's question.

"Why indeed?" responded Slade. "We made a deal. You visit three times a week, I refrain from criminal activity. You miss a day… Well, I'll have to entertain myself some way."

"Why is my visiting so important?" asked Robin, looking back at the man. "How is my visiting the thing that holds you back?"

An older, aged crystal blue eye bore deep into Robin's soul.

"You are Mary's son," said Slade, his eye flashing strongly. "You are my son. Had I known you were my son, things would've played out far differently."

"How?" breathed Robin, unable to lift his voice higher than a whisper.

"I would've raised you."

Robin swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as the mixture of feelings began to play over him. Just how would've things turned out if Slade had been his father? Just what would his life had been like? Would he have turned out like he had or would he have turned into something darker?

"Raised me… into what?" asked Robin, looking down at his clasped hands in his lap.

There was a long moment of silence where it seemed as if Slade was heavily considering Robin's question. Then, the man's smooth voice lifted into the air.

"Into a young man who grew up with a constant father in his life."

Robin's clasped hands began to tremble terribly in his lap.

A constant father…

What would've that been like?

Then, Slade stood up and came to stand over him. Robin had to look up at the man's towering height. A fleeting thought passed through his mind, wondering if he'll ever reach a height that tall.

"Would you indulge me?" asked Slade, his expression soft.

"In what?" whispered Robin. There was something reverent about Slade's tone, making him match the man's tone. He watched the man swallow once, his protruding, prominent Adam's apple bobbing once.

"I want to examine your face."

"Oh…"

Robin found himself extremely startled by this. The man wanted to… examine his face? But why? Why would he want to look at his face? Hadn't he already seen it? What was so important about his face?

But Robin could only nod gently in agreement, unable to deny the sincere look on the man's face. Slade knelt down in front of him. Robin grew nervous by the sudden closeness between them. Robin sat up, straightening so that the man could do whatever he was wishing to do; feeling more and more nervous as each moment passed by.

Because of the man's height, Robin only had to look down slightly into the man's face. Slade's large hands reached up to his face. Robin flinched slightly once they touched him; unnerved by the familiarity from an adult. But they were so gentle, so tender as they traced the lining of Robin's jaw. Being so close to Slade, he could readily see the flashing emotions that were passing through the man's usually impassive expression.

It was such a contrast that these hands were the same hands that could produce so much pain and sorrow.

Robin wanted to close his eyes, feeling so strange as the man studied him. But he was too drawn into the light that was glittering inside that crystal blue eye. There was such a deep, unbending pain within that light. Pride and then deep longing flashed over that eye. Then, the pain entered once again; the sorrow embedded intensely within.

The gentle hands traced Robin's cheekbones.

Emotion beyond anything that Robin had ever felt rose up inside his chest. It took every ounce of his self control not to collapse beneath it. The way the man was so softly, so kindly, so longingly studying the features of his face made Robin yearn in return.

What if?

What if the past had been completely different and this man had raised him?

How many nights would be filled with reassurances after the nightmares? How many monsters under the bed would've been chased away? How many tears would've been wiped away from a fall and skinned knee? How many hugs would there have been? How many gentle kisses? How many times would a baseball been thrown? How many times would advice, comfort, knowledge been extracted?

Fate was cruel.

It was horribly cruel.

If Slade had raised him, would Robin have been the man's apprentice like he wanted? Would he have been his partner, been at his side like Robin had been by Batman's side? Would he be a criminal, too? Would he have learned at the man's side? Would he have fought with him and thus run away to another city, only to form the Teen Titans?

Would the man have not come after him like Batman had not?

The hands fully encased Robin's cheeks; thumbs gently stroking right beneath his eyes.

"You haven't been sleeping much lately," murmured Slade. Robin could only swallow; so unnerved, so surprised, so still by the softness and the tenderness that the man bore in those hands.

Then, those hands finally withdrew. For the first time in such a long time, Robin actually felt distressed by the withdrawal of adult affection. He hadn't had it after his parents' deaths. Batman wasn't an affectionate man – at all. So, Robin learned to live without it.

But now with such an overwhelming flood of it, Robin found just how much he missed it.

How could he desire such a thing from this man? Was this man Slade – the very same man he had hated with his entire being a mere day ago? What was changing? What was making Robin change his thinking?

"You have my jaw line and cheekbones, but your overall look is so Mary," said Slade, deep sorrow and yet, deep pride in his voice. "There's so much of her in you."

Further emotion writhed inside Robin's chest at the sound of that.

Slade stood up, walking away towards a hallway that laid at Robin's left. Robin looked down at his clasped hands in his lap. He was so confused by the feelings that were rising up inside his heart.

He was seeing a different side of Slade he hadn't imagined. The man was actually soft and gentle – there was no doubt about it. There was a stern exterior, one that hid emotion well; but it seemed that when faced with something that touched his soul, the man's emotions flashed through his face with perfect precision.

Was this really the same man Robin had been fighting all this time?

A few moments passed before Slade came into the room again. He was holding a large manila envelope. He walked back to the armchair and sat down.

"Here," said Slade, handing him the envelope. Robin lifted an eyebrow and accepted it.

"What's this?"

"Open it and find out."

Thus, Robin did so. It took him a moment as he fumbled with the metal prongs on the back; his fingers trembling from his nervousness. Finally, he got it open. Slowly, he pulled out a document. His eyes widened as he realized that it was a wedding license.

"Mary's maiden name was Cardei," said Slade.

Robin scanned the document, seeing that Mary Talaitha Cardei was on the document and then the name Slade Joseph Wilson was also on the document.

"Wilson?" asked Robin, glancing up at the man. Slade hesitated for a brief moment before he gave him a nod.

Richard… Wilson…

Robin tried to push all the tormenting and conflicting feelings that were once again rising up inside his chest. It was then that he noticed that there was more within the manila envelope. Tentatively, Robin reached inside. His hands nearly dropped what he saw.

There were a number of photographs.

All wedding pictures.

Robin's breath caught inside his throat as he saw a picture of a very young Mary and a very young Slade. Robin hadn't seen such a young picture of his mother, but he recognized her immediately. Slade was young and sharp looking, wearing a full military uniform – and he didn't have the eye patch.

They looked so happy in these photos.

"Mary was seventeen and I was nineteen," said Slade. "Her father… He didn't like the fact that she was dating a man in the army. He disowned her when she wouldn't break off the relationship. She didn't have any other place to go and to keep things proper between us, we got married. I wanted to wait until she was eighteen, but there was no helping it."

"You two were… so young," said Robin, tracing the edges of the photo with a finger. His mother was so radiant, so happy. He had never seen her this happy – not this level. There was this never ending joy that was emanating from her face. And Slade, too, looked just as happy.

They looked so normal – like a family.

"We met two years prior," said Slade. "We dated for a year before the marriage. But I'll admit, I fell in love when I first saw her."

Love at first sight…

It was so romantic; like an idyllic dream. It was the dream of every child to hear about the love story of their parents; to hear the how, the why that brought them together and that kept them together. It was one thing Robin never remembered his mother talking about.

Why had she married John Grayson then?

"So, what happened that caused my mother to be married to my fa—to John Grayson?"

Robin amended himself midsentence. While he was used to John as his father, Slade was also his father and it was beginning to get confusing in his mind. He had always called his parents Mama and Papa. But when talking about them, he always addressed them as his mother and father. It was pretty childish at his age to call his parents by 'Mama' and 'Papa' but he still did when he was alone. That's who they were to him.

But now Slade was entering the picture.

"Obviously, I don't have the full story," said Slade, his entire stance going rigid. "But what I do know is four years into the marriage, I was called away on a… military medical assignment – experimentation that I had foolishly sighed up for when I joined the army at sixteen."

Robin noticed that the man sounded extremely resentful when he spoke of the military.

"It put me into a two year coma," said Slade in a deep, low undertone; emotion filled within. Robin's eyes widened in shock. "The military told Mary that I was deceased. Later on, I found out that everything I had ever owned disappeared. Upon saying that I had died, they also erased my very existence."

Robin's heart stilled at that. The army… erased Slade's existence? How…? Why…?

"When I woke up, I looked for Mary. But when I saw her with him and with a two year son, I thought the worst. I honestly thought she had forgotten about me. I thought you were his son. I look back now… I should've confronted her."

"What stopped you?"

"I… honestly don't know," said Slade, terrible sorrow filling his tone. "But you can only imagine how I felt. Seeing the only woman you ever loved with another man and not only that, with a son… It's far more painful than you can imagine. Far more painful…"

Slade trailed off; his voice dying off.

Robin didn't know what to say. He could only feel the hurt, the pain, and the sorrow that the man expressed through his tone. There was another moment before Slade stood up. The man swallowed once.

"I have some more pictures that I can find. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Slade left the room down the hallway again. Robin laid his head against the back of the couch. The information was spinning inside his mind; everything swirling and surging. It sounded all so horrible. Slade truly had been dealt a terrible fate. Robin could only imagine how he'd feel if he saw the girl he loved with another guy. It'd be heartbreaking. He wouldn't know what to do or how to feel at that point.

Robin closed his eyes. It was all thoroughly exhausting, to be honest. Everything was; the burdens, the lying, the knowledge – he was so tired. He wished he could just rest in some simple peace sometimes, but with the nightmares plaguing his nights, it wasn't possible. No matter what he did, there was no escaping them. He couldn't sleep, even if he wanted to.

And yet, that's just what he did; slipping off to sleep as the complete exhaustion overtook him.

It was a few moments later that Slade walked back into the living room to see the lad fast asleep. He set the other pictures aside. Without bothering him, Slade grabbed the extra couch blanket and draped it over the boy's shoulders. He watched him sleep for a moment, the boy's breathing deep as he slept.

He knew it; the lad was pushing himself too much; placing too many responsibilities upon himself. He was so much like Slade in that regard; driven, determined, focused. But since he was young and without guidance, he couldn't balance it.

And just whose fault was that?

It was true that certain events had unfolded in the past, but now that Slade heavily thought on it, he knew he messed up; missed his chance to rectify things. He should've been more assertive. But grief and betrayal were powerful emotions in a person; and Slade had allowed them to consume him.

But this changed everything.

This boy was his son. That alone changed everything Slade had ever known in the past fourteen years. It told him something important about Mary as well. She never had a son with that man. She had only one child and that child had been Slade's.

Slade sat down in the armchair and leaned forward onto his elbows; clasping his hands together to rest his chin on them. He continued to watch the boy; the boy that was his.

So many years wasted. How could fate align themselves to such an outcome? It should've been completely different. Mary should still be alive; Slade at her side. Robin should've grown up within their safety; within their love. He should've grown up with many brothers and sisters; should've been a carefree child.

So many should haves; so many regrets.

All the thoughts of revenge, all the thoughts of anger, all the thoughts and pursuits that had been his entire focus were now erased from Slade's mind. All the things he had built for himself the past fourteen years after waking up from his coma were now useless. They didn't matter.

Even though the bitterness and hatred he felt for a certain faction still existed, it was not more important than this boy. He should've long shoved such feelings away and thought logically on the entire matter.

Maybe then Mary would still be alive.

This boy, this son was now his only concern. But he knew past animosities were hard to overwrite. He always said that trust was easy to destroy, but difficult to build. Building trust with a boy that had viewed him as his ultimate enemy, his ultimate adversary would be extremely difficult.

But build it Slade was going to do.

No matter how long it would take; no matter how many sacrifices had to be made – Slade would form trust with this boy, this son. He was willing to do anything. He had loved Mary too much to allow the bitterness of his heart to warp the potential clarity that was now given to him. Fate had dealt him a terrible blow, but now it seemed as if it was giving him a second chance; a chance he wasn't going to allow pass by.

He would do anything for their son.

….….…

Robin bolted upwards, his breathing terribly erratic. He gasped, shivering slightly.

Was it another nightmare? He couldn't remember. There had been a long moment of peace inside his heart, but it had panicked somehow; forcing him to bolt upwards out of his sleep. He felt warmth surrounding him and noticed that a blanket was draped over him.

Robin glanced around, blinking a few times as he took in his surroundings. Then, his heart began to panic inside his chest; pounding rapidly.

He was still at Slade's place. He had fallen asleep here.

Robin threw the blanket off him and bolted to his feet. He glanced around the dimly lit room for a clock or anything that would give him a clue of the time. Then, he caught sight of a digital clock on the stove. It said twenty-three minutes past eight.

In the morning.

Robin was shocked. He had slept soundly, catching up the sleep he hadn't had in weeks, even months. How the heck did he manage to get through a night without a full blown nightmare? How did he manage to get through the night without once waking up?

Slade walked into the room from the hallway, carrying a book in his hands. He stopped, catching sight of Robin.

"You're awake."

"Yeah…"

Robin couldn't believe it. He had fallen asleep here. How could he have lowered his guard that much? The man could've done anything to him. He had been in this criminal's home unguarded, unprotected. How foolish was that? Batman would severely berate him for such a stupid move!

"I was wondering if I should wake you," said Slade, setting the book onto the middle countertop. "But you needed sleep."

Robin could only nod, noticing the man was wearing different clothes in a similar fashion as yesterday. He never imagined Slade would be a clean cut, stylish kind of man – but he was. The man had a sense of style and taste that was pretty impressive.

He was also wearing a different tie – a dark green mixture of burgundy and trimmed yellow in design.

"I wasn't supposed to stay all night," said Robin quickly before he could stop himself. He felt nervous and jittery. Then, more panic flooded through his entire being.

His friends!

They'll be wondering where he'd been all night. What was he going to tell them? Another lie? Just what could he say to them? There was no way he could explain all this; no way he could tell them what happened. He'd have to explain why he lied in the first place.

More lies, more webs of deceit – just when was he going to be free from them?

"Turns out you did, though," said Slade, a dry smile lightly tugging at the edge of his lips.

The panic was still eating Robin alive. His friends would be awake now. They'll be wondering why he wasn't in the tower. Starfire had watched him leave; she'll tell the others; they'll figure out he'd been gone all night; they'll be curious; they'll be concerned; they'll ask what's going on.

Robin would have to explain himself.

Robin swallowed, curling his arms around his chest. He was going to have to lie to them again and again. When would it stop? When he destroyed everything by his twisted words?

What was he going to tell Starfire?

Slade suddenly threw him a banana. Robin managed to catch it expertly.

"Eat that."

"I don't need—"

"Eat it," said Slade with a firm light in his eye. "You need to eat regularly. You'll keep breaking down like you did last night if you don't. You look like you're about to have another nervous breakdown."

Robin stripped the banana halfway and shoved half the fruit inside his mouth, chewing grudgingly with a scowl on his face.

Who did Slade think he was telling him to eat? He wasn't about to have a nervous breakdown, thank you very much. Robin didn't need to be told what to do! Who did he think he was, his father?

Oh, dang it.

Robin felt the familiar wave of mixed feelings flood through him. He stole a glance at the man. Slade was working in the kitchen, preparing something. It felt strange that the man had instructed him to eat, as if he were looking out for him. How could the man tell he was breaking down? Was it that well written across his face?

Or was it more?

"I really need to go," said Robin with a mouthful of banana. He swallowed. For some reason, he felt the need to tell the man he needed to leave. He felt like he couldn't just leave without saying… without saying so.

"A few more minutes won't hurt now," said Slade, his back still turned to him. Robin finished the rest of the banana, walking into the area of the kitchen and tossing the peel into the garbage can. He walked a little more into the kitchen to see Slade at the stovetop, flipping a pancake. In another pan, there were a number of sausage links.

"What…"

"You stayed the night," said Slade in an even tone, turning a sausage around. "Might as well as send you on your way with a hearty breakfast."

Robin opened his mouth for a moment, but then closed it. Things were just getting stranger and stranger by the second. Slade making him breakfast? What kind of alternate dimension did he travel to in the middle of the night?

"It's not really necessary," said Robin.

"It is."

Robin wasn't sure what to say in reply to that. The man looked determined to cook breakfast. A plate was beginning to pile with freshly cooked pancakes.

Robin was at a loss. He was confused, felt guilty for even being here; and yet he felt drawn to the man. He felt extremely drawn to this man now. Slade was displaying things that Robin had never even imagined possible. The 'criminal' demeanor that Slade had usually displayed was slowly fading into something different.

Into someone that Robin was beginning to realize was the true man.

And Robin was drawn to that man; very much so. There was something about him that was powerful, yet comfortable – familiar even. Robin could almost imagine what it would've been like if his life had been filled with this man as his father. His life would've been very different – different from John Grayson; different from Bruce Wayne, alias Batman.

Robin was unsettled by how much he could learn to like this man.

So, if this was the true Slade, then why don the mask and become someone so different? The criminal Slade was far more annoying, far more irritating, far more everything. It was such a contrast. So, what led the man to become a criminal? What were his motives? Would Robin gain the answers if he continued with this arrangement?

What would he do with the answers?

A few minutes later, Slade pulled a glass plate from a cabinet and piled four pancakes and four sausages onto it. He handed it to Robin.

"Syrup is in the fridge. Butter is on the table," said Slade, continuing to cook more pancakes.

Robin held onto the plate, trying to makes head or tails of the current situation. It was so unreal, Robin had a little difficulty for a moment. He must be dreaming. Why wasn't he fighting with this man? Where was all the anger and hatred that had been in his heart all towards this man?

"Why are you doing this?" asked Robin, before he could stop himself. "Why are you so different? What happened to the psychopathic Slade that I've been trying to stop all this time?"

Slade turned slightly, looking down at him.

"I was never psychopathic."

"You tried to destroy the city with a giant fire monster!"

"I was never planning on destroying the city. That has never been in my plans."

"What about those computer chips?" protested Robin. "The ones you had Red X steal for you? What were they and what were they for?"

"You stole technology without even knowing what it was?" asked Slade, a smirk stretching his mouth. "Robin, you're slipping."

Robin growled.

"They were held in a high security facility!" snapped Robin. "Of course, I didn't know what they were. I only stole them to get close to you!"

"Maybe I'll tell you another time," said Slade, dishing another plate full of pancakes and sausages. "Don't you need to get back to your friends before they miss you too much?"

"You're changing the subject here!"

"I am not," said Slade, turning off the fires on the stovetop. "I am merely saying that you cannot expect all the answers in one day. Come back again."

"But—"

"Robin, eat your breakfast."

Robin clamped his mouth shut, feeling extremely annoyed. The Slade he had been obsessed with bringing down had surfaced and was thoroughly irritating him – the Slade that withheld information; the Slade that taunted him; the Slade that haunted his dreams.

All those awful dreams.

Robin didn't realize he was trembling until a hand rested onto his shoulder. He startled, nearly dropping the plate of food in his hands. He looked up into Slade's unmasked face.

"Sit down. Eat," said Slade. "You're becoming unstable again."

"I am not!"

Slade firmly clasped Robin by his upper arms, leaning down slightly to stare directly into his face.

"You are destroying yourself," said Slade slowly. "By refusing to eat, to sleep, to take care of yourself, you are beginning to unravel."

Robin wrenched out of Slade's grip; a sausage flew off his plate as he did so. He slammed the plate onto the middle countertop and another sausage plopped off the plate, flopping onto the countertop.

"Just whose fault is all that?! I was fine before you showed up," shouted Robin, slicing a hand through the air fiercely. "Some father you are!" A subtle flash of injury crossed Slade's face, but Robin was too angry to notice. "You're the reason I can't sleep at night anymore. You're the reason I have nightmares. They're all about you!"

Robin covered his face with a hand as his chest heaved with his anger and resentment.

"All I hear is your taunting voice mocking me. 'Robin, is that the best you can do? Robin, excellent work; I think your skills are improving. Robin, you and I are so very much alike.' I can't stand it anymore!"

Robin's head dropped; his shoulders hunching over as they began to tremble. He hated this. No matter how many times he had tried, he just hadn't been able to reveal the man beneath the mask. It hadn't been in his power to do so. And now here was the man, but he was far different than Robin had ever imagined.

He had been powerless; completely powerless and even now he was still playing in this man's hands.

"But I can't even stop you," said Robin in a low, injured whisper; keeping his head low and hating the truth as he spoke it. "I'm powerless against you – our fight proved that much. There's nothing I can do to stop you. You've really just been playing games with us all this time."

Robin looked back up at Slade.

"The only reason why I'm here, why I'm lying to my friends is so I can protect this city."

There was a moment where Slade simply stared back at him. But after the moment passed, Slade spoke.

"You aren't the least bit curious about me?" asked Slade with a tilt of his head; his expression excessively impassive. Robin swallowed and ran a hand over his face, shaking his head.

"I don't even know anymore."

There was a long moment of silence. Robin didn't look up at the man, unable to understand the flurry of feelings and emotions that were running through him at that moment. The confusion, the anger, the hatred, the worry, the guilt – everything was overpowering him.

It was as if it all had a gripping grasp around his neck, trying to choke the very life out of him.

"You should eat and then go," said Slade finally, breaking the suffocating silence. "Answers will come with time. I will… answer them for you."

Robin looked up to see Slade dishing two sausages from his own plate onto Robin's. The man pointed to it.

"Eat and you'll feel better."

"I'm not hungry."

There was an automatic growl from Robin's traitorous stomach.

"You're a bad liar."

Bile rose up inside Robin's throat. That wasn't true. He was a terrific liar. After all, all his friends still thought he was telling them the truth. They didn't second guess him. They didn't realize the deception he was painting around them. Of course, he was only painting himself into a corner.

What would he do then?

"You'll find that I can tell when you're lying to me," said Slade. "Even without the glaring clues your body gives."

Robin flushed and turned his head away. Without another word, he took the plate and walked to the table; sitting down in a chair. He stared at the plate, realizing he forgot a few things, but didn't really have the energy to figure out how to find them.

A fork and a knife were set next to him; along with a jar of maple syrup and a tray of butter.

Robin glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye. The feeling that was rising inside his chest was constricting his heart, yet he didn't know what it was.

Robin ate the food in silence. Slade didn't attempt to talk to him either while he ate as well. The two of them just sat at that round wooden table, eating their breakfast in a mutual silence. Robin tried to eat as quickly as he could without making himself sick. He was ready to leave. He couldn't stay anymore. He needed a break from all this confusion; all this familiarity and peculiarity.

When he finished, he placed his fork and knife onto the plate.

"Thank you," murmured Robin, feeling awkward. Slade merely inclined his head in acknowledgement. The man stood up and handed Robin his pair of black sunglasses.

"You'll be wanting these."

"Oh… thanks," said Robin, taking them. He slipped them on and the lighting dimmed in his eyesight. He slowly stood, feeling awkward and strange again. "I guess… I'll be going now."

Slade merely nodded.

Robin turned away, walking towards the door that led into the dark haunt of the criminal side of Slade; contrasting itself with the brightly lit living quarters – reiterating the presence of two sides of the enigma that was Slade.

"Are you really going to abstain from criminal activity if I continue to visit you?" asked Robin, turning to face the man as his hand touched the handle of the door.

"I gave you my word."

Robin watched the man carefully; staring deeply into that crystal blue eye. The man truly did look sincere; Robin could read it. But it was so strange to think that this man was the very same man who wore that mask.

Robin couldn't help his question.

"Is that worth something?"

"I should hope so," replied Slade without pausing. "It's all I have left."

Robin swallowed once, unwaveringly watching the man still. His breathing was slow as the silence lifted into the air.

Was he really going to keep visiting this man? Was he really going to keep discovering more about him? What would happen when he reached a point of no return? He could still opt out now, before it was too late. Just because this man was his father didn't mean they could come to any real understanding. This man was Slade, wasn't he?

It's not like years of absence and months of hatred could be cleared so easily.

Right?

"I'll come back in two days," said Robin, before leaving through the door and closing it behind him.

….….…

Next Time: Chapter Five: Absolute Authority – Robin keeps his next visit with Slade. However, the stress that he's placing upon himself is starting to greatly affect his health and through his foolishness, he discovers the unbending authority that Slade claims.

Author's Notes: As I'm writing, I'm finding that this Slade is definitely a bit different than normal Slades – especially different than Forgotten Bonds' Slade. I think it's because of some of the things I plan to weave through him with the events that'll unfold. Kind of fun writing such a different side to Slade. ^^

And Robin; man, I hadn't been counting on giving him a physical issue, but wow it sure unfolded that way. I really like it, actually. As humans, we're all susceptible to such things. I myself have experienced low blood sugar, so it's something I understand. I like writing about a Robin who has to deal with these types of things on top of all the other stress that he goes through.

So, I've decided. Updates will happen on either Tuesdays, Thursdays, or Saturdays – basically the opposite days to Forgotten Bonds. I'm writing this one as I go – meaning I don't have future chapters really as prepared as I do with my main story, so I cannot guarantee an update. But when I do update, it'll be on one of those days and more than likely at least once a week, if not twice.

Thanks for reading! See ya next time! Reviews = love and ideas! ^.^