A/N: You guys are awesome. Thanks for those reviews, they truly inspired me to hurry up and write this chapter. I should be studying but the class is easy and I can always write and study at the same time Once again, Robin and Slade are not mine to own but the others are all from my crazy mind.

Ch. 10 Number 1318666

Robin stared out of the truck, his blue eyes longing for freedom. Around him where other boys his age or older huddled against the truck, fear written on their faces. They knew where they were going and seemed to accept it despite their fear. But Robin didn't want to get involved with a civil war. He had heard and learned about the things that went on during civil wars; none were pretty. Sighing, his breath condensing into the gray air, Robin continued to look out of the truck. He could jump, could run away into the woods again.

But he didn't. He stayed.

Something in him was holding him back from escaping. Something in him had cracked. Pulling his large coat closer to him, he could smell the dank body odor of Vlad. The man had died because he was supplying the enemy. And once again, Robin couldn't save him. Resting his chin on his knees, Robin's eyes drooped to the floor.

"But if you helped him…saved him…then you would be considered an enemy as well. You would have gotten killed as well, and then where would you be? One thing for sure, you wouldn't be with the Titans," pondered Robin.

Pulling out the clip, Robin stared at the picture. His thumb caressed a circle around the four main Titans. Did they miss him? Where they happy that they were able to defeat the Brotherhood of Evil with or without the help of the real Robin?

"Titans."

Robin jerked his head up and looked at the man beside him. The man looked to be about 18, his dirty blond hair tied in a ponytail. Green eyes looked down at the picture and the young voice whispered again, "Titans."

"Yes, Titans!" Robin couldn't believe it. Maybe this boy could translate the rest of the article. "Do you know English?"

The man grinned, "Yes. I speak bit. Father was translator."

"Can you translate this article for me?"

A man across from them in his twenties spoke to the green-eyed boy in their native tongue. The boy nodded and turned to Robin, "I translate in return, you help us fight."

Robin frowned. Translating and fighting were not an equal trade. But he wanted to know what was happening on the outside. Nodding, Robin felt that he had signed his fate, "Deal."

The boy smiled, "Mihail is my name and that man over there is Pavel."

Robin's mind began flying. He needed a name, but if he gave him his real name then his cover would be blown. "Dimitry."

Mihail nodded and grabbed the article. "Titans escaped and destroyed the Brotherhood of Evil base. Um…No deaths. Most of villains were frozen. Some escaped. Now Titans back in States."

"Anything about Robin?" questioned Robin.

"No. It says cont—continued on 8th page," finished Mihail.

Robin frowned and leaned back. He took the picture from Mihail's hand, folded it and stuck in into his pocket.

Mihail tilted his head, watching his young companion, "Special to you?"

Robin looked up at Mihail, a small sad smile on his face, "They bring me hope."

"Ah."

Pavel muttered something, running his hand through black thick hair, his black eyes narrowing at Robin.

Robin raised an eyebrow at Pavel.

"He says you should learn language to survive," translated Mihail.

A stoic expression fell onto Robin's face. Pavel was right. If he learned the language then he could get out of this country alive and prevent any more blood from being spilt. "Alright, since we got nothing else to do."

Pavel nodded and Mihail grinned.

By the time the truck stopped at the camp, Robin had learned the basic rudimentary words and sentences of the language. The language was somewhat similar to the German Robin had learned. Standing in a line, Robin's mind listened hard to the conversations. He understood only a word or two.

"But at least I'm getting somewhere," boosted Robin to himself. He needed to keep his moral up. But just looking around and seeing the soldiers, he felt himself already falling into depression.

The line moved forward and Robin trudged behind Pavel. The three had began to form a friendship and soon branched out into the rest of the company in the truck. The twenty-five of them now looked at each for reassurance and comfort in the bleak world. The routine was simple. A soldier threw a basket at you and you dumped all your belongings in there, later to be give to you at the end of the processing. After that, you were stripped down, head shaved and blasted with cold water. Then the doctors came in and inspected you.

Robin remained calm as the doctors inspected his back. The doctor touched his wound then nodded at his assistant. The assistant handed the doctor a pair of scissors. Robin heard the doctor snip at the stitches and remove them from his wound. Getting a slap on the back, Robin heard the doctor mutter "Good" and then he was dismissed to get into his uniform.

At the end of the line, a main pinned him and told him, "You are number 1318666."

Outside in the dirty uniform that was definitely a hand-me-down, Robin tucked the picture of the Titans in the pocket over his heart. Running a hand over his baldhead, Robin allowed a small smirk to appear on his face when he noticed a familiar group forming to the side. Running over to join them, Robin skidded next to Pavel. Pavel looked down at the younger boy. The boy was too young to join in this war and since he didn't even know the language was another reason why the outsider shouldn't be here.

"Escape," whispered Pavel.

But Robin shook his head and replied in their tongue, "I promised to stay."

Mihail was one of the last to arrive. The boy was cursing about losing his long hair. Supposedly he was growing it to attract a woman. The twins of the group snickered at Mihail. The actor of the group made a puppy dog, starry-eyed face about the woman whom Mihail was hinting at. Others in the group shook their heads, but it was evident that everyone was enjoying the light-hearted entertainment.

A major in glasses stood before the group and began addressing the new squadron. Rifles were being handed to each of them. Robin weighed his rifle in his hands. Learning to shot would not be a bad thing in terms of hunting for food while he escaped. He would escape but when he felt that he could leave his companions in a safe environment. This time, he wouldn't fail in protecting them.

Coldness seeped into his bones as Robin watched the major demonstrate how to fire. Looking over his shoulder, Robin froze. Behind him was a tall man, a colonel by the looks of his rank, watching him with one eye. Blond hair was cropped with a black patch over his left eye, leaving a crystal blue eye to observe Robin. Robin couldn't help but shudder.

"Colonel!"

The man nodded at the major before gazing over the group, "You will be under my command. In the next few weeks, I will be training you all before we are deployed into battle. Don't let me down." Finished with his speech, the colonel placed a hand on Robin's head and patted him before leaving. Robin couldn't place it, but he felt that he had been just touched by the devil.

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A/N: Yes, sneaked in another chapter. Hehehehe, there's a significance behind his number, if anyone can tell. I've been pondering over new names for Robin, but it's hard to find one. So if anyone has any suggestions I'd greatly appreciate it. Coming up with names is one of the things that I don't like about writing, but once you find the right one everything flows perfectly. Well, off to write on my other story. Then maybe I'll squeeze in some studying, lol.