Before this even starts, I NEED to give a shout out to Katla1 for their never-ending support of my works. They give constructive criticism that REALLY helps when writing, it's always in the back of my head, and it has helped me more times than I can count. Not just that, they are an all-round AMAZING person, who always gives positive support for everything I do.
Just know your always the first person that I look forward to seeing review, whether it's on things that I could improve or just seem a bit off character wise, or a simple 'Good Chapter'.
Katla, you are an amazing, beautiful person, and now I am formally extending my love an gratitude for you. :)
And thanks for all of you for sticking with me. Sorry this is REALLY late, but it hope you enjoy anyway!
Robin forcibly swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, the fact that it was even there disgusting him. The dampness that he was sure was plainly visible in his eyes was even worse, and he clenched them shut before they could spill over.
The teen could practically feel Slade's eye boring into his face, his features solid as stone, trying to find the best way to approach the situation he found himself in.
It wasn't every day you had a random teenager breaking down in front of you, after all.
Robin felt the hand on his shoulder clench slightly, and despite who it belonged to, he clung to the anchor like a life line.
His mind was panicking, just like in the alleyway. Robin felt his hands shaking slightly, and clenched them shut in an attempt to stop them. It was futile, the shaking continuing, spreading to the entire length of his arms and then his entire chest.
His breath hitched before he realised what was happening, and was it just him or was it getting harder to breath? The air grew thick and his previous calm, controlled breathing turned into short, little gasps.
His arms came to wrap around his middle, his entire frame shaking now.
Robin knew what was happening, of course. He had panic attacks before, back in his own dimension. When things went wrong in their circus act. When nightmares grabbed him by the ankles and refused to let go. When everything just became too much.
Batman had taught him how to get past it. He could feel the memory trying to break through the haze of his mind, pushing against the panic.
The lump in his throat returned, and with it the memory evapororated completely. Robin's small gasps of air turned long and wavering, his lungs desperately trying to get more oxygen to his brain.
He barely registered the hand tightening even further on his bare shoulder before his knees collapsed on him. The hand stayed where it was, even as Robin folded in on himself.
His breathing increased, and he felt his head get lighter. His mind flitted back and forth, not knowing what to do. The neurons firing in his brain were going haywire.
One second Robin felt panicked; How would he ever get out of here he was stuck he would never see Bruce again or Alfred or Wally Artemis Kaldur Connor M'gann never see them again he was going to die-
Then anger; Why in the world did he have to get captured he was so STUPID and he should have just listen to Batman's orders like he was supposed to even though those rules were just as STUPID-
Sadness; Everyone would be wondering where he went if he was alive and they would grieve for him and Bruce would fall even deeper into that hole he had made for himself and maybe they would even have a funeral that would be nice they at least deserved that much-
Paranoia; What exactly happened to him would he have any permanent affects and where was the Joker he should have come to finish the job by now and why was Slade being so weird and why was no one acting like they should-
Wait. Slade. He was still there. The warm spot on his shoulder. Hand. That was a hand. That was his hand. He hadn't left, he was still there, and he had to pull himself together so he didn't look so weak in front of an ENEMY-
His breaths started to get deeper, and as more oxygen returned to Robin's brain he dully heard a noise in front of him.
A voice. Slade's voice. He was talking to him. The man's voice, the deep baritone that sounded so much like Bruce's in the haze of Robin's mind, peirced through the veil of thoughts and Robin desperately latched onto it.
"Robin, you need to breath." Slade stated, his voice taking on an uncharacteristic softness Robin would never expect a man like him to possess. "Calm down. Just breath."
Slowly, with the help of Slade's coaching, Robin found himself heaving in deep breaths, the torrent of thoughts steadying into a small stream. The hand on his shoulder carefully propped him up into a more upright position, and Robin risked opening his eyes a sliver.
Slade crouched in front of him, his other arm resting on his knee. His face was just as hard as before, but there was a gleam in the man's eye that Robin almost mistook for sympathy. And maybe even guilt.
Good. He deserved to feel guilty. It was his fault Robin even had a panic attack in the first place.
The sympathy, however, Robin couldn't help but dismiss as him reading it wrong. Why would Slade, a mercenary who killed people for a living, feel pity for him? A random kid that he decided to kidnap?
Everything in this world was so messed up.
His breathing now under control, Robin's arms lossened around his middle, and he ducked his head, now content on avoiding the man's gaze.
"Are you alright now, Robin?" he asked softly, Robin's cheeks going aflame as what had just happened fully caught up to him.
He was angry at himself, but all that was overshadowed by the pure embarrassment. He hadn't had a panic attack that bad since he was ten. Simply the loss of control was embarrassing enough, but to have it happen two times, in the same month, and one of those times to be in front of Slade, of all people?
Everything was falling apart. And it seemed that no matter how hard Robin tried to keep it glued together, the peices kept falling out. It was frustrating to no end, but he had no idea how to fix it.
He thought he had gotten past all of these confusing emotions a long time ago, but now it was coming back all over again. Robin's (semi) stable life was once again ripped away and he still didn't know how to properly handle it.
"Robin?" Slade prompted once again. Robin sniffed and brought up his right hand to wipe against the wet tears tracks he felt on his cheeks.
His hand brushed over the scars there, and he flinched, quickly bringing his hand back down.
"I'm fine, just...forget about that. " Robin mumbled, still refusing to look Slade in the eye. His cheeks were still tinted pink, and he didn't want to turn and decipher what the man was thinking.
"Robin." he said after a pause, a bit more forcefully. Robin felt a finger under his chin, and jerked his head away. When it came back, however, he gave a huff and allowed his head to be turned towards the man's, not seeing the point to resisting anymore.
But while he faced the mercenary, Robin's eyes still gazed down to his lap.
"Look at me." Slade ordered, but his voice was still soft. Robin kept his eyes down for a few more seconds, then slowly brought them up to the man's gaze.
"This is nothing to be ashamed of, Robin." Slade started, and Robin felt his cheeks get even more red. But before we could refute that, yes, this was definitely something to be ashamed of, Slade continued. "I know just from you're appearance that you have been through horrors that would ward away adults. And you're eyes tell an even more gruesome story."
Robin quickly darted his eyes away, a bit wary at the way Slade had just read him. He knew people could figure out a lot about a person just from their eyes, but it was still creepy.
"You are just a child, Robin." anger flared up in Robin, and his eyes went back to Slade's. The man's lips quirked up, his one eye crinkling in amusement. "And yes, fourteen is still only a child. But for being you're age, I can also see a great wealth of wisdom and potential in you, boy."
Robin's cheeks flamed once again at the compliment, not even caring who it was coming from anymore.
"You are entitled to have your moments. Do not think for even a second it is alright to build up a wall around you're emotions. No matter what anyone may have taught you."
The teens breath hitched at the last comment. Even if Slade had no idea who he was or who taught him, it felt as if that was a direct reference to Batman and his ways.
It was no secret that Batman had little to no emotions out on the field. It was what made him such a good superhero. To the outside world and most of their villains (with the exception of the Joker), Batman didn't let emotions cloud his views or judgements. It made him ruthless.
And, in a way, that way of thinking was passed on to Robin. It was not entirely intentional, as Batman was always determined to make sure he didn't end up exactly like him, but it had happened anyway. That is what happens when an impressionable kid spends so much time with someone.
Batman may have tried his best, but his way of dealing with stress did get passed on. It was only now that Robin fully realized how much.
"Do you understand?" Slade's voice interupted his thoughts, and with a small squeeze of his shoulder Robin nodded mutely.
"Good." was all the man said in response, and as if Slade only just realized what he was doing, he briskly stood up and turned away from Robin. "Dinner will be ready soon."
Robin stayed where he was on the floor, staring at the man's retreating back. Now that his mind was clear, he realized that this entire picture was even more crooked than before.
Why did Slade comfort him? The man could always be trying to manipulate his thoughts and actions by feigning kindness, but what Robin saw in his eyes was real. The pain, the sympathy that he saw couldn't be faked. It was clear that it was from experience and not for some con.
Everything was still skewed. Even after his breakdown, this whole situation just screamed wrong. Deathstroke wasn't supposed to be nice, homeless men shouldn't be that charitable in Gotham, Clark shouldn't have cared that much about some random kid, he shouldn't have the scars on his face, and the Joker definitely shouldn't have been here.
Suddenly, all Robin felt was anger. It overwhelmed all of his other emotions, and all he saw was red. He didn't know what was happening, why he felt like this, but he sure as hell wasn't going to question it at the moment.
Robin found himself standing rigid on his feet, glaring down Slade's retreating form. His knuckles were white in clenched fists, and he could feel his entire frame shaking in suppressed rage.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Robin found himself screaming. Slade abruptly stopped and whipped around to the teen. Instead of seeing the frustration Robin wanted to see on the man's face, he only saw slightly worried confusion.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean..." the man trailed. Robin stomped up to the man until they were barely a foot apart, harshly jabbing a finger into his chest.
"Why are you helping me?! Why do you even care?! You're the world's most feared mercenary, who could probably take on the entire Justice League single handed and have a chance of winning! You could have easily handed me over to Luthor to live out the rest of my life in solitude, so why didn't you?!" Robin panted, his face red and eyes ablaze. Slade simply gazed down at him in what looked like stunned silence, his one eye wide and eyebrows high on his forehead.
Robin hated it.
His right fist came up and punched Slade squarely in the chest, the man not even reacting. His fist stayed there, and Robin bowed his head, tightly screwing his eyes shut.
"Why is everything so messed up?! I thought I knew everything, I thought I finally had everything figured out, and then...everything gets messed up again, even more than last time, and..." he trailed off, his anger finally dying away, leaving way for the emptiness.
Robin felt numb. The rage was completely eradicated, now filled with a hollow pit. Everything mattered at that moment, yet nothing did.
"Robin..." Slade stated softly, and as Robin panted, regaining his breath, he felt those strong arms envelop his frame in a tight hug. His arms fell limp at his sides, and his eyes started to water against his will.
Slade was hugging him. Deathstroke wasn't supposed to have feelings. It didn't work that way.
But he did. Robin couldn't even faintly begin to dispute it any longer. And for some unknown reason, Slade cared for him. Even when he really didn't have any reason to.
"You remind me of my sons." the man bluntly stated, and Robins breath hitched. He didn't have any idea Slade had children. He certainly didn't have any in his own dimension.
But Robin wasn't in his dimension anymore, and everything he thought he knew didn't matter, did it?
"You have the same appearance of my eldest, and the emotions of my youngest. Both of which are lost to me now. And it's all my fault." Slade pulled away from him, but kept his hands on the teens shoulders. "I knew no greater pain than the day I lost the only lights in my life. I vowed I would never let that darkness claim another child like it did my own children." The man's eye gazed steady into Robin's own, filled with pain that the teen saw in his own eyes whenever he thought about what he lost. "I know that you do not trust me. In all honesty, I haven't given you any reason to. But I hope that I will be able to help you overcome the horrors that plague you, and keep you from the same fate my sons suffered."
Robin had no reason to believe the man's words. Slade even said it himself. But as he saw the pure, overwhelming hurt and pain in that icy eye, the emptiness in Robin started to fill with warmth.
Slade was a coldblooded mercenary on his world. He would kill anyone for a reasonable price, even children. His supiorior intellect gave him a massive advantage, but that intellect also made any moral he had vanish. Deathstroke only looked out for himself.
This Slade, however, was...different, as to be expected, but almost too different. He had morals, and it looked as if he stuck to them in a religious way. He refused to hurt women or children. The man was caring, and even had children at one point, and maybe even a wife.
Weirdly enough, under all the weapons and contracts, Deathstroke the Terminator was a decent man.
And if he truly cared about Robin, maybe he would even help him get home.
I...don't know what to think about this chapter. It's ALRIGHT, I guess...
That should be the last of Robin having a full blown attack (at least for a LONG while), but his anxiety problem is far from over.
And for those who may think Robin is being a little OOC, he has just been thrown into a world where everything is being twisted on its head, and even a kid superhero would have a really hard time adjusting. (especially with all that Robin's ALREADY been through in his home dimension...)
That being said, there is also another explaination storywise that may be brushed upon briefly when we get closer to the end. Which is barely on the horizon yet.
Oh boy.
Well, hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway!
~RockinThatRobin