Disclaimer: Not mine. Rated T for language and violence.
Gotham Holiday
Chapter Ten: Destiny
Raven and Beast Boy reappeared atop Wayne Tower. The shape-shifter hugged his shivering arms despite the winter uniform he wore. The city, half-white with snow, stretched out like a sea of lights as far as his gaze could see. Sirens and flashing lights echoed up skyscraper walls. Somewhere far away, a store alarm was ringing.
"Too bad we didn't have time to sign Speedy's cast," Beast Boy offered as a half-hearted joke. Gazing out across the city, he wondered just how long it would take for them to locate Robin. "So, which way was the Bowling Alley again?"
"The Bowery," Raven corrected. "Follow me."
Beast Boy transformed into a falcon and Raven led him through and around the city's Gothic architecture. They flew so high that the cars looked like little toys, but the pair still managed to sweep between arches and over high, spindly towers. Eventually, Raven touched down on a flat, unremarkable roof. Beast Boy transformed as he landed beside her. At first, he was confused as to why she'd chosen to stop there, but then he saw Robin's bo-straff, covered in a thin sheen of frost, lying near the rooftop's edge.
"I saw him chasing Scarecrow," Raven said as they approached it; their shoes crunching in the snow. "I could have helped him... but there was a chance Batman would have seen me. I didn't want to cause another problem after the spaghetti-pocalypse... But that was stupid of me. I should have helped him catch Scarecrow."
Beast Boy stooped down to retrieve the bo-staff. He held it in both hands as he stood back up and met Raven's eyes. "It's not your fault, Rae. You were just sticking to the plan. I know Robin wouldn't blame you either."
Beast Boy collapsed the weapon and tucked it into his gray utility belt. Raven's eyes widened, and he turned to see what had surprised her. High in the dark clouds, a brilliant column of light was displaying the Bat-Signal. Throughout the city, the sounds of sirens and alarms became an increasingly more frequent, haunting echo.
Several blocks away and beneath the cold streets, Batman, Cyborg, and Starfire reached the abandoned subway station. The collapsed tunnels and large piles of debris, combined with the eerie, flickering lights, made even the large space seem claustrophobic.
"So this is where you last saw Robin," Cyborg said; continuing to scan for anything that might give them a clue as to which way Slade had taken their friend. Right away, his sensors detected Robin's blood. They led him to a red smear and Cyborg felt his stomach sink. There was no point in calling attention to it; Batman had already told them Robin was injured, and Cyborg definitely didn't want to rub Starfire's face in the fact. He left the stain in the shadows; the searchlight attached to his shoulder tracing the station walls until he found Batman and Starfire on the far side of the room investigating one of the collapsed tunnels. He joined them and instantly picked up more, smaller instances of Robin's DNA on the scrap and debris piled high in the tunnel's entrance.
Batman was checking a map on his gauntlet's screen. "This tunnel leads towards the bay. You can tell that someone's recently disturbed the debris here... at least, enough to slip through the top."
"And drag Robin after him," Cyborg agreed. "No way I'm fitting through there though."
"Stand back." Starfire's eyes and hands glowed; casting their eerie green light on the debris. Once Cyborg and Batman had obliged, she blasted through the piles of stone, trash, and wood until the tunnel entrance was clear. Dank air wafted into the subway station, causing the teenagers to cover their noses.
"Ugh! What is that!?" Cyborg gasped.
"Sewage." Batman passed between the two gagging Titans and into the tunnel.
Soon their boots were squelching as they slipped out of the unfinished subway station and back down into Gotham's underbelly. The only light in the disgusting darkness was from the searchlight built into Cyborg's shoulder; however, Starfire had always been able to see well in the dark and Batman didn't seem to have any trouble either.
Guess his cowl gives him bat-vision or something, Cyborg figured. Along with a hovering Starfire, he followed the older hero deeper into a circular tunnel that was caked in filth and smelled worse than rotting fish. Only a thin current of icky water ran through the tunnel and everyone was mindful not to step in it.
They came to a fork. Cyborg could see the faint imprints of large boots heading left. Batman must have seen them, too, because the hero did not hesitate in leading the Titans that direction.
Alfred's voice came over Batman's communicator. "Sir, reports are circulating of a man wearing orange and black armor attacking at random. He's shot multiple victims throughout the city with a weapon that is being described to police and the media as a 'red laser'. I'm tracking him via our link to the city's various surveillance systems. It's definitely Deathstroke. Unfortunately, he's somehow managing to be in four different areas of the city simultaneously. I've already dispatched Raven and Beast Boy to intercept him at the Market District. ...I've sent you the last known locations where 'Deathstroke' has been sighted. As you can see, he's left quite a large area to cover."
"Deathstroke must be trying to draw us away from Robin," Batman replied to his gauntlet.
"Diversion is definitely his M.O.," Cyborg agreed. "He must have brought some of his Sladebots with him. We can't just let those things run around Gotham shooting even more people up with his nanoscopic probes."
"Alfred, have there been any reports of people suffering attacks from the probes?" Batman asked.
"None as yet, sir. Do you think perhaps that these attacks are merely his way of bluffing?"
"Let's hope that's the case," Batman said, "but Cyborg's right. The robots have to be stopped and any potential victims need to be helped to the hospital. You two join the other Titans. I'll keep searching for Robin."
"There's an access point to the surface ten kilometers north of your current location, Cyborg," Alfred told him. "And sir, more bad news, I'm afraid. Apparently the Joker and Harley Quinn have become quite active. They've robbed several toy stores in succession. Bizarrely enough, they're reportedly dressed as Saint Nicholas and an elf... GCPD is attempting to apprehend them as we speak."
Batman suppressed an irritated sigh. "Gordon will have to handle it for now."
"Man, Batman," Cyborg said, "don't you have like a whole, you know, League of friends that could help out? Superman's even right next door, right?"
The Dark Knight wasn't facing the Titans, so they didn't see his dark, however brief, scowl. "Most of the League is in another sector of the galaxy dealing with... a crisis. Although Superman wasn't a part of that mission, he's been off the radar."
"I have attempted several times to contact Superman to warn him about the Scaredust that was transported across the bay," Alfred added. "There's been no response."
"He must have gone to help with whatever's going on out in space," Cyborg said, sharing a wary look with Starfire. "It's not anything we little Earthlings should be worried about, is it?"
"There are multiple crises occurring at any given moment on a global and intergalactic scale. The League is spread thin at the moment. For now at least, we're on our own," Batman said as he turned to continue up the tunnel. "Be safe out there. If you can, capture the robots without damaging them or the weapons they're using to spread the nanoscopic probes. They might be useful in helping us stop Deathstroke."
"Don't worry, Batman," Cyborg said as the distance grew between them, "we won't let you down. Let us know right away when you find Robin, okay?"
Starfire echoed, "Yes! Please, do not hesitate to call us! Or should you need assistance!"
Robin had been a hero for half of his life, but nothing in his experience prepared him for the pain he now felt.
It erupted in his head, split through his bones, and seemed to twist in vicious knots of agony around his stomach muscles, pulling them tight and sending him into breathless pain. The floor smacked his face. With no strength left, he could only twitch against the concrete floor. His lungs fought desperately for air. He wanted to black out and escape the searing torture.
Stinging pinpricks of pain stabbed across his skin, between his fingers and toes,
Robin panted, lying on his back. His heart raced a moment. Robin covered it with a hand.
Almost there. I can make it. I just have to be stronger than this.
He'd woken up on a steel table in a small medical room. The wound across his shoulder blades had been cleaned and re-bandaged, as evidenced by the bloody bandages he'd spotted in a nearby waste container. His tights and the tattered remains of the top half of his uniform were his only defense against the bitter cold permeating the room. Apparently Slade had taken his shoes, cape, and gloves. Fortunately, the mask was still sealed to his face.
Although Robin was pretty sure Slade knew his identity anyway. A sobering thought for sure. But he had a different problem in that moment. He'd woken up alone in the room. Other than the bed and some built-in cabinets and a sink, the room was empty. There was an old metal door leading to who-knew-where, and it was his singular goal to make it the ten or so feet from the steel bed to that door. Unfortunately, Robin had learned quickly that the probes were triggered to go off the instance his weight left the steel table (which, of course, was bolted to the floor and wall in ways that would require a hydraulic cutter to reverse).
He would just have to fight through the pain. Surely Batman and the others were looking for him. The first step was to get out of the room. The Titan sluggishly rolled over onto his stomach. His glowing arms shook as he pushed himself up from the ground and got back to his hands and knees. Robin tried to crawl forward, but his arms felt like they were made of gelatin. His right palm slipped and he landed on his face—smacking into the concrete floor with a frustrated growl.
Slade's boot nudged against his ribs.
When did he get here!? Robin cast a wary, angry glare up at the man, who was still clad as a GCPD officer. Stupid Slade and his stupid games!
"A pity. And you were so close this time. A mere foot and you would have made it," Slade taunted. "You're welcome to try again. In fact, you can try all night, or however long it takes for the lesson to sink in."
"You know… It's not my fault… your brother…"
"Focus, Robin. Or surrender."
"You wish." Robin started half-crawling, half-slithering across the floor towards the door. He wasn't sure how he was going to get it open. It didn't matter. He was going to get there and then he'd figure it out. But the threads of fire slicing through his body kept intensifying. The word carved across his shoulder blades burned so that he felt each line of every letter. M.I.N.E. Robin's spine arched as the probes inflicted twice the pain before. He saw white flashes. It became impossible to breathe.
Slade opened the door as if daring Robin to go for it.
The Titan didn't hesitate. He shoved himself forward a final time and collapsed. Flat against the concrete, Robin turned his face so that he could see the hallway. He reached for it desperately; stretching his arm. The door's threshold was just beyond his fingertips.
So close! I'm so close!
But the blinding, flashing lights overwhelmed his vision, the pain was too much, and Robin's arm dropped. He found he couldn't move. His skull felt ready to explode, right along with his heart and lungs.
Slade disengaged the probes, grabbed the hero by a foot, and dragged Robin to the other side of the room.
The Titan awoke seconds later with his face against the concrete floor. He groaned.
"Well, Robin. Are you ready to try again? Third time's the charm they say, but since that didn't work out so well for you, maybe this time will? How about a fourth attempt?" Slade leaned against a wall with his arms crossed and waited to see what the young hero would do.
Robin realized he was back at the opposite end of the room where the bed was bolted to the floor and wall. He sat up on his knees; his body was shaking from the aftershocks of pain. He couldn't make the trembling stop.
"What's the point?" The Titan ran a shaky hand through his dark hair. Bitterness laced his voice. "If I get close you're just going to knock me out again."
"That's exactly the point," Slade said. "You can't win. You can't escape. And if you insist on trying, you will continue to suffer and have only yourself to blame. But you should remember, Robin, that you and my half-brother are not the only ones infected. At least a dozen other civilians, poor innocent people of Gotham, were also hit by my laser tonight."
Robin's masked eyes widened as he looked up at Slade. "You're not saying that—"
"Yes, Robin. Every time you make me activate the probes, you make them suffer the same fate that you bring on yourself. Only… I'm not so sure they're handling it as well you are," Slade said with mock concern. "Some of them might have weak hearts… old hearts… medical conditions. One woman even looked pregnant. Do you really think an unborn child could survive such torment?"
In a burst of anger, Robin was on his feet. He growled and swung a fist, Slade caught it easily, and before Robin could see how, the probes were activated again. The hero gave a strangled cry and his knees buckled.
Slade caught him. He held Robin by the arms, just below the shoulders so that the boy was kept standing as the probes burned him from head to toe.
"How many of them have already died?" Slade wondered. "Imagine their loved ones; unable to do anything—to even comprehend what's happening. Only you have the power to end their torture. They're out there right now, screaming for someone to make it stop. Can you recall their faces? The people you saved from the bus."
"You don't have to hurt them!" Robin tried to twist and kick, but his muscles were exhausted. "Stop this!"
"Not until you accept that you cannot escape," Slade said, tightening his grip on Robin's arms, "that my probes will always overwhelm you, and that you can only hurt yourself and others by trying. When you try to escape—you cause them to suffer. You choose for them to die writhing in pain. And you, Robin, choose when their pain stops."
"Then stop!" The boy's glowing, masked eyes beseeched him. "Stop hurting them!"
"Get your breathing under control," Slade admonished. "It's important to breathe deeply when you're being tortured. It gives your mind something to focus on and releases endorphins. …And …if you stop resisting, my updated probes will deactivate automatically. Do you understand? It is completely within your power to shut them off, but this can only be accomplished if you're absolutely still. The only way you can stop it on your own... is to surrender."
A few tears escaped the corners of Robin's mask and ran towards his ears. He ducked his head.
But Slade had seen. "Robin… there's no need to be ashamed. I've tested these probes extensively over the past year on subjects your age and size as well as grown men. Their mental and physical barriers collapsed long before this point; well, the ones who were still alive. None of them survived the worst these probes can do for longer than a few mere seconds… I wonder if you could?"
"Even if I can," Robin said, taking a shuddering breath as he struggled to get himself under control, "the other people infected—"
"The people I experimented on were physically fit comparable to you in varying degrees," Slade said. "Your unlucky co-sufferers, however, assuming some of them are still alive, would surely perish if the probes were set to maximum for longer than ten seconds."
"Stop hurting them," Robin ground out again. Slade said I can make it stop, but I can't. I can't get my breathing under control. I can't help them. I can't even move. I'm totally useless.
It both angered and frightened him to know that only Slade's hands were keeping him on his feet.
Slade fell quiet, and Robin was left alone with the probes eating him up inside.
They seemed to chew on his muscles. They crawled like fire ants.
He was sure it would never end.
And then he realized they were gone.
It was just the echo of their pain that the hero still felt reverberating up and down his body.
Robin released a shuddering breath of relief. Frowning, he wondered, Did I get them to turn off… or did Slade do it?
"Should I turn them on again?" Slade asked; his grip on the boy's arms tightening as he felt Robin's body give into fatigue. "Are you going to make innocent people suffer for the sake of your own stubbornness?"
"I won't try to escape," Robin promised with an upturned glare, "but that doesn't mean this is over. My team and Batman will figure out how to stop you just like last time. You won't win even with these new probes."
"But I will," Slade assured, using his grip on the boy's arms to push Robin up against the wall. He leaned close. "One way or another, Robin, you will do as I say. You will accept your place as my apprentice. There is no more time to stall. It's happening, and it is happening now."
"That was over a long time ago," Robin said; grimacing as the wounds on his back were mashed against the cinderblock wall. "You lost."
"It was never over. It was always coming another day. I admit that the day has come much sooner than planned, thanks to my dear half-brother, but here we are. We might as well make the best of it." Slade released him.
Robin braced himself against the wall and slid down until he was seated against it. He brushed an unsteady hand across his face.
"Not that I want to put anyone else on your radar or encourage the whole idea," Robin said; exhausted, "but there have to be plenty of other people out there who would actually want to be your apprentice. And I don't mean confused people like Terra. There are people with your worldview out there already, so why can't you just pick one of them?"
"Wanting it and sharing my worldview are hardly standards worth considering," the man replied. "Accept it. I've chosen you. It's not something you have a say in. However, I will promise you this, if you're a good boy, I will leave the others out of it. No one else has to know who the Batman is, where he lives, the names of his closest loved ones. Can you even begin to imagine what could become of that butler you seem so fond of? Or perhaps better yet, how do you think dear, old Alfred would handle being infected with my nanoscopic probes?"
"Don't you dare threaten my family," Robin growled. His fists curled, but there was no energy left in him. He was stuck against the wall and they both knew it. Angry, he snapped, "How long have you known our identities, anyway? After you sent me to Wayne Enterprises, I figured you might know."
"I've known for a long time," Slade told him. "It's information worth capitalizing on someday, don't you think? Or perhaps not. I'll leave that up to you, too, Robin."
Irritated, the boy said, "I just don't see why you're doing this when you know it's not going to work out. You know that Batman and my team will never stop looking for me—especially now that they know you're behind this."
Slade had a guarded look in his eye. "If it helps, think of it as destiny."
"I don't believe in destiny."
"Believe in this—As my apprentice, you, your future and your choices… your very life—all belong to me, but don't worry," Slade's voice lost its hard edge, "you are a responsibility that I have never taken lightly."
Robin was conscious again of the word carved into his back. "Sounds like you just want someone that you can boss around and control. You don't want an apprentice, Slade; what you really want is a slave."
The villain scoffed as he checked his blood-streaked wristwatch. The badge on his stolen uniform read O'Connell. Robin wondered if Slade had really killed the officer… and then the Titan wondered how... and if O'Connell had a family.
"Slave? Really, Robin. I'd have to give you a frontal lobotomy, and then what fun would you be?" Slade flipped open a device Robin didn't recognize and regarded a screen as he spoke. "Besides, I hardly need slaves or henchmen at my beck and call when I have an army of robots. Although, I suppose since Chang is still on ice I'll have to either thaw him out or find another person to manufacture them if I want to rebuild that army. As it stands, I still have more than enough drones to accomplish my present goals."
Slade put away the device. An armored Sladebot entered the room from the hallway and leaned against the wall by the door. It looked exactly like Slade and even somehow emoted his detached smugness. Robin gave it a brief scowl before returning his attention to the real Slade.
"Speaking of," Slade said, "should Penguin or his thugs try anything incredibly stupid, I have posted several of these nearby—just in case he chooses to ignore the promise I made to him should any harm come to my apprentice."
Robin said, "You say that like I'm supposed to be grateful. I've had to learn to live with the fact that we have some things in common, but I was raised to be a hero. It's who I am, and nothing you do will ever change that. This can only end with you being disappointed, Slade."
"Not if my expectations are realistic," Slade countered. "And my demands are so few. Trust, loyalty, and absolute obedience."
"You can't command those things," Robin said; his head lolling against the wall as he looked away from the villain. Muttering, he added, "And how can you seriously expect anyone to ever trust you?"
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"Not outright," Robin admitted; looking back to the villain, "but you've deceived me. There's no way I could ever trust someone as manipulative and cruel as you."
Slade ignored the barbs and offered a few of his own. "Deception. Manipulation. Cruelty. I believe your little friends felt like applying some semblance of those qualities to you after you deceived and manipulated them into thinking you weren't Red X."
Remembering how he'd betrayed their trust, along with the hurt in their eyes when they realized what he'd done, made Robin's head dip almost imperceptibly in shame. Almost. "That was a mistake."
"No. It was a strategy," Slade corrected. "But we can discuss your track record when it comes to underestimating advanced opponents later. I believe we were discussing, at present, why you just can't bring yourself to trust me."
"You've kidnapped me and used my friends to control me. You've hurt my friends," Robin started listing. "You tried to—"
"—Really, Robin," Slade interjected, sensing a long tirade of accusations that he really didn't care to hear, "you have to admit it's hardly fair to hold me to a standard you even haven't held yourself to. You've demonstrated your capacity for deceit and manipulation, and yet even your former friends, idiotic as they can be, found the maturity to understand your motives and trust you again."
"Maybe. But they'll never forget," Robin said, more to himself than Slade. "And I can never take it back."
"I have faith in your capacity to understand my motives," Slade continued, "though it may take some time, considering your stubborn nature."
Robin drew in an exasperated breath. "You think we're so much alike? Fine. Then imagine if our positions were reversed. How would you react to someone trying to hijack your life, Slade?"
The villain's eye narrowed at the boy's choice of words. "Believe me, dear child, I have considered it for quite some time. It's the reason why, for the most part, despite your constant insolence and ingratitude, I'm able to maintain my patience. Otherwise, I would have strangled you by now and left you to rot at the foot of your precious Tower."
Robin tensed, and Slade added, "Relax. I'm on your side."
"It doesn't matter if you think you have my best interests at heart. This is never going to work," Robin insisted. "I'm Robin. I'm a hero. A Titan. It's who I am."
"You may always be Robin, my dear apprentice, and… you may even sometimes be heroic, but you will never be their Robin again. That life is over." Slade's hand cut through the air. "It's finished, and the more you struggle to hold on to the ghost of it, the more you and those who are tied to you will suffer. I will infect as many as it takes to help you understand. Submission is your only option if you want to save the innocent people infected, your friends, and… of course, the ones you hold most dear."
He reached down and grabbed Robin under the arm, fingers tightening in a bruising grip as he lifted the boy. Standing, Robin met his eyes bitterly. The steel bed pressed against the small of his back. Slade leaned close.
"So… do we have a deal?"
1) Rajun: Yes, calling her "blondie" keeps the Titans and especially Beast Boy from demanding to see the video file.
2) Guest: My inner map of Gotham is a mix of pretty much every Gotham map ever. I drew it out on an index card in an attempt to be consistent though. =3 The way I imagine Gotham is the way it appears in Batman: The Animated Series.
4) XaoOfTheMist: You're right! I just meant that the BTAS version of Dr. Leslie is the one I'm imagining in this story (not that she originated in BTAS). For example, I cited Scarecrow from the Arkham games as the particular incarnation of the character that I'm envisioning.