What's best for you

Author's note: I was actually re-reading the previous chapters and it occurred to me that Slade eats and has his mask on. I'd just like to say this is a plot hole I do not care to fix so we're just going to Slade's magical and he can eat with his mask on. And forgive the little spelling and grammar mistakes I sometimes look over. I write a lot of this on my lunch break.

"No!!" Robin struggled against the man as ferociously as he was held against the wall. Slade easily restrained his upper body and then in one swift motion, kneed the boy right in the groin. Robin immediately ceased all movement and Slade let him drop to the floor. Robin's hands immediately flew between his legs and he trembled and whimpered as Slade knelt down beside him.

"It doesn't feel so good when your opponent doesn't fight fair, does it?" He hissed.

He then stood up, walked over to Robin's discarded shirt and picked it up. He tossed it on Robin, watching it land on the boy's head and said, "Two more months, Robin."

--

Robin lay in bed that night, biting his bottom lip in agony. He longed for a bag of ice to put between his legs, cold water, anything. As much as it hurt, however, he was glad that's all Slade had done. He removed the pillow from behind his head and placed it over his face, breathing heavily. He thought of his friends. He thought of pizza. He thought of videogames. He thought of all night movie marathons. He thought of his own gym, his own room. He was terribly homesick for all of it, and though he felt like crying, he didn't. He was too drained, too tired. He rolled off the bed, wincing slightly at the sudden fire in his boyhood and marine-crawled over to the far wall. He curled up into a little ball and fell asleep.

--

"Sheets need changed?"

He awoke to Slade's voice, but didn't move. Maybe if he pretended he was asleep, Slade would just go away. It was unlikely, but not impossible.

"No, sir." Robin felt a pillow land on his head. "We're not playing that game. Get up."

Robin sat up, sighing through his nose. Slade eyed the bed and then him. "What happened last night?"

The boy only shrugged his shoulders. He expected Slade to get angry about it, to demand an explanation, but he said nothing else about it.

"Take a shower, get dressed, and meet me in the gym."

Robin did as he was told and was surprised that Slade did not give him his boots once in the gym. He stood there in his black workout shirt and shorts, waiting for something to happen, anything. Slade, however, only hem-hawed around in his mysterious cabinet without a word.

"You know, Robin," he finally spoke without even turning around. "You've had your good days here, and you've had your bad days here."

'What good days?' Robin thought bitterly, but said nothing.

"And I've been going fairly easy on you." Slade turned around and Robin's eyes widened. The masked man was holding a large knife with a long, sharp blade. It was half the size of a sword.

He subconsciously backed up as Slade moved towards him. "I think it's time we get a bit more serious," the man hissed.

"You're…"Robin found it hard to even get the words out. "You're going to stab me?"

It seemed a little extreme, even for Slade. Slade himself must have thought so too because he chuckled.

"No, Robin," he assured him. "I'm not going to stab you."

He snapped his fingers and two robots entered the gym carrying a large crate. Robin watched curiously as they went to work unhinging the latches and a large, panting dog scampered out, wagging its tail.

"You're going to stab the dog?!" He asked in disbelief. "That's horrible!"

Slade chuckled again. "I never said I was going to stab anything," he said.

"Then…" Robin was confused. "What's the knife for?"

"Oh that." Slade looked bored. "You're going to kill the dog."

"What?!" Anger surged through Robin and he clenched his fists. "No! I would never-"

"Never say never," Slade interrupted him. He then nodded his head at the robots and they briefly disappeared. When they returned, one of them was carrying a small, crying boy. He looked no older than three or four years old.

"NO!!" Robin roared, charging forward, but Slade grabbed him by the back of his shirt.

The robot set the child down who looked as terrified as anything. Robin struggled against Slade's grasp.

"You have a choice," Slade said calmly, still holding him. "You can either kill the dog or I can kill the child."

"The hell you will!" Robin flipped himself nearly upside down , the balls of his feet coming in contact with the bottom of the masked man's face. Slade's head jerked back and he stumbled slightly, releasing Robin. The Titan raced forward and scooped the child up, and with his acrobatic skills, he jumped partly from the cement wall to grab hold of a beam. It was difficult to swing up and onto it with one arm and extra weight, but he managed. The little boy wailed and Robin hugged him to his side.

"It's going to be alright," he told him, looking down at Slade.

"I suggest you get down here and kill this dog," the masked man looked back up at him. "You know as well as I do the only way that child gets out of here alive is with my say so."

On one hand, Robin wanted to tell Slade to fuck off, but on the other, he knew he was right. With a defeated growl, he jumped down and walked over to a far corner. The little boy was reluctant to let go of him, and as Robin gently pried him off he said, "Listen." He knelt down to be eye-level with the child, placing his hands firmly on tiny, shaking shoulders. "I need you to sit here, turn around, close your eyes, and cover your ears, okay?"

The little boy nodded, doing as he was told. Robin dragged himself over to Slade who handed him the knife.

"Can't I have a gun?" He pleaded weakly, staring at the blade.

"And turn it back on me?" Slade turned him around to face the dog. "I don't think so."

The dog was large, but looked friendly. He trotted over to Robin, who knelt down and held out his hand. The dog licked it as he stood there, panting and wagging his tail.

"Please, Slade." Robin turned to the man, his eyes begging more than his words.

Slade only shook his head. "I can't go soft on you this time."

Robin turned back to the canine, trying to decide the best way to do it. The most humane way. Strangle it? Break its neck? He held the knife before him, part of his reflection glinting against the shiny surface. And idea struck him and he did a back flip, lunging at Slade with the weapon. He was stopped in his tracks when he saw the child in the man's arms.

"Wrong target," Slade said coldly. He then pulled a gun from what seemed like nowhere and held it to the child's head. "Do it," he ordered.

"Don't make him watch!" Robin half demanded, half begged.

"NOW." Slade's finger pressed against the trigger.

"Please don't make me-"

The gun cocked.

"Slade, please!"

His finger tugged.

"Stop it!"

It tugged harder.

"DON'T!"

--

Robin didn't know which sounded worse-the cry of the dog, or the cry of the child. He stood there, blood on his bare hands and legs, an equally bloody knife in his hand. The dog lay on the floor, whimpering, and through clouded eyes, Robin did it again and again, hoping the animal would just hurry up and die. The little boy sobbed as he watched, and when it was all over, Slade set the child down and the two robots returned.

"Return him to the city," he ordered.

One of them picked up the hysterical boy and they disappeared once more.

"What a sight." Slade walked over to Robin, taking the knife from his hand. "What a delicious display of slaughter."

"I can't believe you did that," Robin said quietly, staring at the mutilated corpse.

"Don't you mean you?" The man nudged the dead animal with his boot.

"You made me!" Robin screamed, throwing a punch at him. Slade caught his fist and twisted his arm. "Maybe you'll learn to get serious now," he said calmly.

--

Robin didn't eat that night. He just stared at his plate, his hands glued to his lap. Slade looked up at him briefly. "You were following orders, that's all," he told him.

"I've never killed anything before." Robin felt his breathing become clotted and his eyes became wet. Before he could gain any kind of composure, he began to cry. It was painfully embarrassing, but he couldn't seem to stop. He wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand, but the tears kept coming. Slade only swirled his whine around in his glass and said, "Come here, Robin."

The boy shook his head.

"NOW."

Robin got up and walked around to the end of the semi-long table. Slade picked up his napkin and wiped the boy's face. This only made Robin feel worse and it showed because he began to blubber all over again. Slade stood up and said, "Let's take you to your room."

When they reached to by's room, Slade pointed to the bed. Robin sat down.

"You know, Robin," Slade said, smoothing out the unmade covers. "If you'd just quit being so stubborn, you wouldn't have to kill."

Robin only wiped his eyes. 'Don't listen to him!' His mind screamed. 'He's in the wrong, not you!'

Slade eyed him, knowing he was thinking about it. "If you'd just accept it," he explained. "I would give you your bo staff back, I would allow you to wander the base freely, to train by yourself whenever you liked."

Robin thought about it for a moment. "I could train by myself?" He asked meekly.

Slade nodded. Robin knew he shouldn't consider it, but he couldn't help it. What more did he possibly have to lose? He'd already been starved, beaten, branded, hit by a car, kicked in the groin, forced to kill. What was left? 'Your dignity!' His mind barked. 'Your self-respect!'

He shook his head and backed away from Slade, getting off the bed. "No!" He started crying again, but this time, his tears were out of anger. Tears of unfair rage.

"Why me?!" He screamed, smacking his hand into his chest. "I don't have powers! I'm not big!" He walked over to the wall and kicked it hard, his toes burning in pain. He leaned his head against the cold cement, his sore foot rubbing against his other one. "Why me, Slade?" He whispered.

He jumped slightly, but didn't fight as the man's large hand touched his shoulder and pulled him away from the wall.

"Who says you have to have powers to be a worthy fighter?" He tilted Robin's chin up with his fingers. "Look at me," he ordered. Robin looked at him sullenly.

"Think it over, Robin." Slade released him roughly. "Consider what's best for you."

To Be Continued…