Disclaimer: Property of DC.

Rating: This story is rated T for language and violence that includes mild torture.

AN: Thank you for the favs/follows/reviews and private messages. Special shout out to A Badger for your kind words of encouragement.


Gotham Holiday

Chapter Twelve: Luck


Ninety-four.

Ninety-five.

Ninety-six.

The elevator doors pinged open.

"Mr. Wilson," Lex Luthor warmly greeted from behind his executive desk. He appeared relaxed, but the sharpness of Luthor's green eyes belied any such notion. He set aside a martini glass and spread both hands in invitation. "It's been a long time. Please, come in."

Wearing a light-weight combat suit, a broadsword on his back, and a handgun strapped to each thigh, Slade stepped off the elevator and into the spacious, dome-shaped office. Luthor's oversized desk was the only furniture, but Slade's eye was drawn instead to the large window panes that ringed the office in lieu of walls. They offered a panoramic view of Metropolis.

Slade stood at one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and swept his gaze over the city. He admitted to himself that Metropolis was beautiful at night. Its towering skyscrapers surrounded LexCorp Tower in a sprawling sea of lights and modernity stretching for miles in all directions. Luthor's office comprised the top floor of LexCorp, and from that startling height, Slade could easily see across the bay where Gotham City glittered against a black horizon.

"Still quite a view, isn't it?" Luthor asked; his tone remaining light and professional.

Slade regarded his own reflection, staring almost ghostlike back at him in the glass. More had changed than his physical appearance in the time since he'd last stood by the window in Lex Luthor's office.

Back then, they'd been discussing a contract on Frank Berkowitz; an unlucky man who soon after became the former mayor of Metropolis.

Two months later, Adeline had given birth to Grant. Now she, and all the children she'd borne since, were cold in the ground.

Slade had buried them along with his step-mother, Wintergreen, and Wintergreen's son, Alex, in the isolated quiet of a remote birch forest. There were no names on the heavy stones marking their graves. Why should there be? Only Slade needed to know who they were and where to find them. He'd chosen the forest because the few locals living on the mountain above it feared its hushed trees. The name of the forest itself existed on few maps.

If any unlucky explorer or hunter did come close to stumbling across his loved ones, they'd stumble instead into a number of many well-camouflaged, lethal surprises.

There were seven stones in that shrine of death, and though Slade never approached a challenge expecting to fail, he'd left room for one more.

Two names remained on Hijack's list.

Of course, one was a traitorous, dishonorable brat.

According to Slade's robots, Hijack had recently 'discovered' a digital file containing a great deal of information about Terra; including her home address, the location of her high school, a schedule of her typical routines, pictures of her and all of her familiar haunts, and, of course, detailed insight into her treacherous powers.

Slade could only hope the influx of information kept the girl next in line as Hijack's target.

Luthor cleared his throat.

Apparently, the billionaire wasn't comfortable being ignored by a silent, brooding assassin.

Slade obliged by turning enough to face him, and the displeasure that had crept into Luthor's eyes evaporated.

"You know, when I heard Deathstroke the Terminator was in town, I have to admit—I was worried." Luthor chuckled. "Imagine how silly I felt when I realized my people would have never noticed your presence in Metropolis were I your target. Your reputation alone should have clued me in right away. You'd never be that sloppy."

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You know, a dependable man with your skillset is difficult to find. I wonder how much would it cost me for you to become exclusively employed by LexCorp? Think about it. All of your expenses? Covered—including a topnotch place to live, if you'd like. And of course, you'd receive an additional salary on top of any contracts."

Luthor leaned forward on his desk; steepling his fingers. "You could go and come however you please, and you know I'll always be able to keep my half of the bargain. I'm sure you've dealt countless times with flakey people, but my reputation—my empire—should also speak for itself."

Most people thought that Metropolis was a thriving city with a relatively low crime rate because of Superman.

Slade knew the truth.

The majority population, whether they realized it or not, whether it was legal or not, worked in service of Luthor's financial empire. He controlled nearly every aspect of the city. Unlike Gotham, there were no rival gangs in Metropolis, no corrupt politicians vying for power, and no bickering elites wasting the city's coffers on their vanity projects. Luthor held everything in his grasp.

Almost.

Slade wondered what kept Lex Luthor awake at night more: the knowledge that Superman would inevitably someday find a way to legally topple his carefully-constructed empire, or the knowledge that the Man of Steel had won the people's adoration without manipulation or coercion.

Effortlessly, or so it seemed.

"So, how about it?" Luthor sipped again at his glass. He set it down with a definite clink against a marble coaster. "Sound like a deal? You could lead a very comfortable, very lucrative life working solely for me, Mr. Wilson. I doubt you'll ever find a better offer that you can trust."

"Your proposition is generous," Slade acknowledged; adding a humble tilt of his head. "Perhaps someday. For now… I have a personal mission that must be finished."

"That you do." Luthor's fingers tapped at a panel on his desk. A large, flat-screen monitor lowered from the ceiling to his right. Its screen displayed security footage of a scientific laboratory. The word LEXCORP was painted on the lab's back wall and branded on several machines and other pieces of equipment scattered throughout the room's workstations.

Slade approached Luthor's desk; arching his neck to better see the monitor. His eye narrowed at the sight of his despised half-brother sneaking into the lab.

Hijack wore a stealth suit, which would have hidden him from LexCorp's elaborate detection measures. He went straight for a storage vault, and, after short-circuiting its keypad, quickly began removing vials that contained an iridescent blue liquid. He placed them with care into a briefcase; pushing each vial into a protective foam slot. Before Hijack exited the lab, he snagged a vial with green, sloshing liquid from a different vault.

Luthor paused the video. "Anyone who enters LexCorp undergoes a bio-scan. You, Mr. Wilson, have my prototype Limiters in your blood."

His next words were spoken with thinly veiled contempt. "I hope you won't mind sharing anything you may know concerning the cretin who stole them. They're quite expensive, you understand, and I just can't stand a thief."

Slade gestured casually at the monitors. "His name is Hijack. If it helps... he's next on my list. He's been using your 'expensive' inventions to murder my wife and children… among others I hold in high regard."

Luthor hid his surprise at the information by pretending to thoughtfully rub his mouth and chin. He adopted a serious face. "I see. Please accept my sincere condolences. I'll call off our search for this 'Hijack' immediately. I'm sure whatever retribution you're planning is far worse than any I could extract."

Slade barred his teeth in a fleeting grin that Luthor almost missed.

Perhaps he'd imagined it.

The billionaire cleared his throat again to dispel the tingling he felt across his forearms and neck. "Assuming you're not holding my company responsible for... indirectly... aiding this Hijack fellow, I'm assuming you're here for a cure."

"I'm here to offer you a contract." Slade crossed his arms. "I need more than the removal of these 'Limiters'… Hijack stole something else from you that has made him inordinately strong."

"Super-strong, I imagine." Luthor chuckled. His fingers worked the panel's keys again. "I'm thinking about calling the serum 'Colossus' when it's ready for the market. We used Venom as a building block to create it; however, you'll notice it doesn't cause the same gross, physically obvious kind of growth normally demonstrated by an introduction of Venom."

Footage of a restrained man surrounded by scientists appeared on the monitor.

The man had long, greasy black hair and looked as if he'd never seen the inside of a gym. He was noticeably tall. His eyes followed every movement of the scientists with obvious fear and distrust.

"This was recorded two hours after Subject 26 was injected with Colossus."

As Slade watched, the greasy-haired man dubbed Subject 26 began twitching with increasing violence. One arm, then the other, ripped free of the thick manacles that had bound him to an examination chair. He then set about killing every scientist in the room with brutal speed and efficiency. He caught one by the hair and threw her headfirst into a wall. She fell away with a bloodied face. Two males tried to gang up on him, but Subject 26 cut them down with swift chops of his hand against their necks. He killed three more and stalked out of the camera's view.

"This is roughly an hour later." Luthor skipped to a new clip in which two guards held Subject 26 by the arms.

He howled and kicked as they dragged him up a hallway; presumably back to the lab.

"Quite a change, huh?" Luthor pressed a few keys. "This happened a few weeks after."

At first, only security footage of an empty hallway played on the monitor. Then Subject 26 abruptly barreled through the cinderblock wall on the left side of the screen and through the opposite wall. The feed changed to reveal him tearing through the building. He ran like a terrified animal looking for an exit to a never-ending maze. When no such path to freedom seemed forthcoming, Subject 26 would stop in his tracks, roar in frustration, and began rampaging in a new direction. Any person he encountered was ripped apart; some in ways that turned even Slade's jaded stomach. The man destroyed other human beings as if they were but paper dolls.

Luthor grinned as he brought up the next clip. "This was ten minutes after that ridiculous temper tantrum."

The same man swooned and fell against a wall. He struggled to hold himself up.

A single guard cautiously approached him, and with a shove, knocked Subject 26 flat.

Luthor sneered. "Not so tough now, huh?"

Subject 26 made it to his knees. He placed his hands against the wall and, through sheer will, got to his feet; however, the strain of his efforts proved too much. His eyes suddenly bulged. His mouth fell open. He collapsed back to his knees and soon toppled over.

The guard nudged him with a foot before stooping to check Subject 26's pulse. Straightening, the guard looked up, presumably at the camera, and drew a finger across his throat.

The monitor switched off and retracted into the ceiling.

"As you can see," Luthor said, "the serum this Hijack has injected himself with is highly unstable. Theoretically, he'll eventually be stronger than even Superman. Of course, when it gets to that point, he'll end up weak as a newborn kitten probably ten or so minutes after—or so exhausted his nervous system throws in the towel. The effects are thus far irreversible. Colossus will run its course until it kills him."

Slade's gaze was a heated blue. "I'll kill him first."

"Not with a body overdosing on Limiters." Luthor eyed Slade. "Your DNA is amazing. In fact, based on what the bio-scan could tell us, you shouldn't even be alive, Mr. Wilson."

"What can I say?" Slade replied with bitterness. "I guess I'm just lucky. …Can you remove them, or not?"

"In your case it's complicated." Luthor rubbed his chin. "If you were infected with only one Limiter, I think your body would have already recovered. Most metahumans can recover from a single dose in under a week, but based on the amount I've detected in you I'm not so sure what's going to happen. We've injected multiple Limiters into test subjects before, of course, but none of them survived longer than a few seconds. ...Whatever's in your blood keeps putting your cells right back together. It's remarkable. It's like a fountain of life."

"Sorry. I'm not interested in making a donation."

Luthor smiled to hide his disappointment. "Not a problem. A contract in exchange for a cure is a fair offer, after all. …Of course, due to the nature of—well—you—we'll have to be careful. The cure that was designed to reverse the Limiters' effects may not work the same way on an individual such as yourself. Still, I think it'd be safe to start by introducing the normal amount. Too much too soon could be fatal even for you. Sound like a plan?"

Slade gave a short nod.

"Excellent." Luthor's fingers danced over the panel's keyboard. "A dose of Anti-Limiter will be sent up from the labs immediately. I'm also requesting a case of the Limiters. They should help you even the odds with your quarry. Oh, and I'm giving you exclusive access to the AB-Limiter, too. It's a prototype air-borne version of the Limiters—ten times stronger."

Luthor made a fist. "More importantly, it's capable of penetrating bullet-proof skin."

A flash caught Slade's eye. He looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows towards Gotham. A column of light pierced the city's brooding clouds.

Slade caught himself wondering what trouble demanded the Dark Knight's attention that evening.

He briefly considered, and not for the first time, the possibility of making Batman and the Titans temporary allies. Their help would increase Robin's chances of survival (and his own). But the heroes would surely deny Slade his vengeance, and even if he contrived to make himself appear blameless in Hijack's death, Slade knew they'd never trust him enough to believe such a ruse.

Besides, Batman and the Titans would turn on him the moment Hijack was contained. His half-brother would likely escape whatever prison they gave him and kill Robin, and if not Hijack, a plethora of other maniacs his former apprentice had managed to piss off. All while Slade was left rotting in a prison somewhere, or worse.

"There are only two AB-Limiters ready for use. I trust you to make good use of them," Luthor said.

Slade kept his gaze on Gotham. "A Kryptonite-tipped bullet would be far more efficient."

"Kryptonite's in short supply these days." Luthor sighed. "Especially ever since the Bat-freak next door and Superman became chummy. Although… I've heard a rumor that the Penguin may still possess a small amount of that priceless green miracle. ...The AB-Limiters will take Superman down long enough for you to bring his alien carcass here where I can keep him unconscious with exposure to red sunlight until Kryptonite can be located. I'll make sure the rest of the Limiters are safely removed from your body when Superman's corpse has been reduced to a pile of ashes in my incinerator."

Luthor stood and offered his hand. "Do we have a deal, Mr. Wilson?"


Deep below The Iceberg Lounge, Slade jerked awake against the wall he'd been leaning against and nearly dropped his handheld device. His eye found Robin on the steel table where he'd left him after cutting communication with the Batcave. Over the past few hours, his apprentice had suffered in feverish pain as his body tried to deal with all the torment it had endured over the long night.

Slade knew what it was like to be trapped in that sort of hellish quicksand. Exhaustion wouldn't let you swim anymore than agony permitted you to sink.

Robin was curled on his side with both hands covering his face. His breaths were slow and deliberate; often accompanied with a shudder. He'd wrapped his cape around himself. He looked like a child sick with the flu.

And yet, Slade was satisfied to see him recovering relatively quickly. His strength was one aspect that made him a worthy apprentice. He would be fine.

Slade looked again to his hand-held device. His limited view of the Batcave's interior showed him only Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler, still working away at the cave's supercomputer. Slade had almost fallen asleep watching him.

He disregarded Alfred for the moment and began cycling through the other camera feeds he'd hacked throughout the city. Nothing had changed in the Bowery or the sewers below. A large number of Penguin's men milled around the premises of The Iceberg Lounge, but otherwise, the restaurant and its hidden network of rooms normally used for loan sharking and other illegal activities was quiet. Finding nothing curious from the cameras he'd positioned around Wayne Manor and the Batcave's known exits, Slade settled again on the single view he possessed inside the cave.

Slade had initiated a total shutdown of the Batcomputer earlier after hanging up the cave's current inhabitants. Ever since, Alfred had worked tirelessly to restore vital programs, such as those that maintained air quality or the cave's labs. At first, he'd had help from Batman and Cyborg, but eventually they and the other Titans had moved elsewhere in the Batcave. Alfred remained.

Slade monitored everything the butler did.

Alfred isolated him program by program; making notes of every file Slade had accessed. Wisely, he did nothing to disrupt Slade's use of the camera, nor did he attempt to reestablish connections with the outside world. Instead, Alfred created and reinforced countermeasures. He seemed especially keen on keeping Slade from accessing the cave's internal defense mechanisms.

Observing him work, Slade wondered if Hijack would kill Alfred first. Perhaps he'd go after Starfire as the strongest of the bunch.

He'd probably save the old man for last.

Of course, Beast Boy and Raven were hardly threats either in their current, limited states.

Slade took off his helmet, finding it suddenly heavy and claustrophobic, and set it on one of the medical room's few counters.

Thinking about the likely fate of those he'd trapped in the Batcave brought him no sense of achievement. Not that it mattered.

Dismissing these grim thoughts, Slade swapped his handheld device for a communicator.

He clicked it on. "Oswald."

Penguin answered as if he'd been waiting. "My dear guest! It's been hours." He coughed. "I trust all is well?"

Slade's fingers tightened around the communicator. "My apprentice was neither harmed nor abducted by your men ...if that's what you're asking."

"My, what a relief! My Dear Deathstroke, you must forgive me for not already issuing my deepest apologies for the unauthorized actions of those two bumbling buffoons. They have ruined my lobby with their little distraction! I must assure you that such mutinous behavior—"

"This is a courtesy call."

The spite in Slade's tone quieted the other villain. "Recent events have necessitated the creation of additional security. I would caution your minions to avoid this bunker entirely. Anyone foolish enough to put a toe down here will not be granted time to realize their mistake; including you."

Before Penguin could answer, Slade added, "And make sure your underlings understand this: From here on ...if I catch them so much as making eye contact with either me or my apprentice, I won't hesitate to terminate them."

Slade didn't wait to hear the Penguin's harried guarantee. He turned off the communicator and slipped it into his utility belt.

"Raven..." Robin mumbled.

Slade soundlessly moved to stand by the steel table. He watched his apprentice and listened for several minutes, but Robin's only movements were the now steady rise and fall of his chest. His hands were relaxed near his chin. The tension was gone from his face. He appeared asleep.

Slade allowed himself to entertain the possibility that Raven was somehow communicating with Robin.

It was impossible.

Even with her powers restored, the charm Slade had placed over Robin was impervious. It could only be undone by Slade himself. Like him, Robin was now invisible to her arcane powers as well as the mystic abilities of many other such creatures.

Slade, on the other hand, would always be able to find his apprentice.

No matter where, or how far, the charm linked them together. Slade was confident that Robin could leave the planet or fall into another dimension and it wouldn't matter. He'd always have a sense of the boy's general direction. The charm was like a magnet that drew their energies towards each other and repelled everyone else's.

Of course, the charm's magic allowed Robin to sense Slade, too, but as far as he could tell, his young apprentice hadn't noticed—at least, not on a conscious level.

Slade yawned, and a fresh wave of irritation washed over him as he cursed the Limiters still menacing his blood and then Lex Luthor for withholding a full cure. Slade had long forgotten trivial things like fatigue and lingering pain. He could not wait to forget them again.

He swept his gaze over Robin a second time. As he did so, the same intense, almost painful surge of possessiveness Slade had felt before rose up again in his chest; spreading out in a strange kind of warmth that was comforting even as the sensation clawed at his heart.

Raven's whispered name meant nothing.

It was the product of a delirious mind, Slade assured himself.

A cold sheen of sweat had formed across Robin's forehead. Slade wiped it off on the back of his gloved hand; his wrist then turning so that his fingers could card through his apprentice's dark hair. Robin's lack of response further assured Slade that he was asleep. He used his thumb to part the hair above Robin's left ear.

Post-shower, Robin had apparently found something close to his usual gravity-defying hair gel among the Penguin's vanity products. Whatever it was, it offered little resistance.

Slade had noticed Robin prodding the area around his ear earlier, and sure enough, there was a long, thin cut; probably another one of the many scrapes and bruises Robin had received at the hands of Hijack. It appeared clean.

Slade dusted his hand off against his armored chest and took a seat by the table in an office chair he'd borrowed from another one of the bunker's rooms. He rechecked his handheld device. Penguin's men still prowled the Lounge… the butler still worked…

Yawning again, he set aside the device and settled back into the chair. There was no way of knowing when such an opportunity to rest would present itself again.

"Slade..." Robin grimaced in his sleep. "...stop."

"I can't." Slade waited to see if his apprentice would murmur anything more. Minutes later, he closed his eye.


Many miles away in the Batcave, Alfred heaved a sigh and stood; ignoring the dull ache that made his fingers want to seize in agony. He shook his hands to banish the nettlesome pain before heading down a metal catwalk to join the others in the cave's labs.

All of the Titans were engaged in helping Batman complete different tests at the chemistry lab's workstation. Raven and Beast Boy were studying a screen together at the lab's console. Starfire handed Batman a beaker of a bright red liquid. He added it to another container and glanced up at Cyborg.

"I can definitely see what you're talking about," Cyborg said; using his cybernetic eye to examine whatever chemical reaction was occurring.

Alfred spotted the nearly empty dart of blue liquid Raven and Beast Boy had returned with after their misadventure at the GCPD. The dart was lying on a sterile dish.

Cyborg noticed Alfred. "Batman and I are pretty sure this blue stuff Slade used on BB and Rae is the same thing Hijack used to take away Terra's powers, which means Slade might still be infected, too. Hijack said he used something called Limiters to negate old One-Eye's 'healing factor'. Slade must have gotten his hands on some, too."

Alfred picked up the dart carefully and considered it. "I suppose that does make sense. Whatever this is, it clearly negates the abilities of metahumans."

"Hijack isn't a metahuman—or at least, he hasn't been one for long." Batman accepted another beaker from Starfire. This one was half-full of green liquid that Alfred recognized. "This is a sample of the Venom Bane uses to augment his muscular structure. It's a near match to whatever's been introduced to Hijack's body."

Alfred cast the cell a look of displeasure. "How fortunate that we've placed him in a cell specifically designed for monsters such as Bane."

Batman agreed. "Once we've figured out how to reverse the effects of the Limiters on Beast Boy and Raven, we can focus on returning Hijack to normal. He's too dangerous like this to hand over to the police. We'll have to deal with Slade first anyway. Speaking of... Any change upstairs?"

"We're still locked out from the city," Alfred placed the dart back on its dish, "and it's safe to assume he's monitoring us; however, Deathstroke has made no further attempts to sabotage the cave. He seems content to leave us in the dark, Sir."

"He's such a coward." Beast Boy hopped off his seat. Raven followed as he joined everyone else who stood around the workstation. "He's just scared cause he still remembers how it went down the last time he tried this stupid apprentice crap on Robin."

Batman looked up from the small screen on his gauntlet where he'd been reading additional data about the Limiters. He met Beast Boy's eyes. "Last time, you didn't defeat Deathstroke. He let you go."

"No way, Batman!" Beast Boy cut a hand through the air. "No offense, uh, Sir, but you weren't there. We totally kicked Slade's butt! His evil lair came crashing down and everything!"

"Well…" Raven scratched the back of her neck. "Technically he hit a self-destruct button…"

Beast Boy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, after we practically kicked his teeth in."

"From what Robin described," Batman crossed his arms and fixed the young hero with a serious gaze, "Slade could have destroyed all of you with the nanoscopic probes, or murdered you outright with a different weapon. Instead, he chose to spare your lives and escape. You didn't win. You were lucky to survive."

"But—"

"And lucky he wasn't willing or prepared to deal with all five of you as ongoing prisoners," Batman added.

Starfire placed a hand on Beast Boy's shoulder. Her green eyes turned to Batman. "Robin does not doubt our ability to defeat Slade."

"Neither do I," Batman assured her with less of an edge in his tone. He regarded each of the Titans. "I'm saying don't be overconfident. Slade's already proven tonight that he's willing to break his own code of honor."

"The infected children and the elderly." Starfire placed a solemn hand over her heart. She shared a saddened face with her friends. "We carried many such innocent victims to the hospitals of Gotham tonight—their likelihood of survival did not appear… promising."

Cyborg gestured down at the cell containing Hijack. "You know... I get why Slade's all motivated to come after his brother... what I don't understand is why he's making whatever game he's playing more complicated by picking a fight with us, too. The man lost his whole family to Hijack. You'd think he'd be focused on getting revenge instead of re-kidnapping Robin."

Alfred said, "Men like Slade Wilson and his half-brother want to control the world around them. It makes them feel powerful."

Cyborg mulled over Alfred's words. Realization left him feeling sick. "Hijack seized control by destroying everything Slade cares about."

He shook his head. "As hard as it is to imagine Slade being capable of caring about anybody, of having his own kids that he might have cared about, it's even worse to think his own brother wiped them all out just to win some kind of ridiculous arm-wrestling match. Evil like that...Man, I can't even begin to understand."

"He's a psychopath," Raven said. Even with her powers suppressed, she swore she could feel Hijack's dark aura. Spite and malice tingled against her skin when she concentrated on his cell.

Alfred agreed. "And now, I'm afraid, Robin stands in the place of all that was lost. This is precisely why you all must remember that Slade Wilson has killed countless, and thanks to his half-brother's actions, now has very little to lose. You cannot depend on him to spare your lives because you are young or because he has spared you in the past. His warning tonight was likely a final gesture of mercy. It would be unwise of us to expect such a gesture again."

The Titans exchanged sobering glances.

Cyborg said, "Alfred and Batman are right. We have to up our game. And to do that, we gotta figure out Slade's game. We need to know his objectives."

"Well…" Raven tapped her chin. "He said before that he needed Batman to keep Hijack imprisoned. And... if he hasn't already, he'll have to rid himself of the Limiters."

Cyborg nodded. "Then he'll probably come here to get revenge."

"If we shield Hijack from Slade's bloodlust, then Slade will attack us as well," Starfire said. "He will use the opportunity to attempt destroying us and further isolate Robin."

"Yeah, great, that's all obvious—but what are we not thinking of?" Beast Boy rubbed his temples as if trying to stimulate his brain cells. "Think about it. Slade's always beating us because we don't think far enough ahead. So after he's de-Limited or whatever and gotten his revenge, then what's the psycho-cyclops planning?"

"To train Robin as his apprentice, as he has attempted to do so before," Starfire answered.

Beast Boy shook his head. "Slade knows even if he 'terminates' all of us, there's a whole, you know, League of people who'll come after him."

"And Titan's East," Cyborg added. "And all the other honorary Titans. An attack on one of us is an attack on all. If we do go down, I know those guys'll step up."

"There's no radar deep enough for him to go under," Batman agreed. "He already knows that."

Raven nodded. "So the question is—how is he planning to disappear?"

Cyborg jerked a thumb up towards the console. "Tall, dark, and ugly made it sound like he plans to let us out once he's flown the coop with Robin. I don't believe it for a second."

Starfire rubbed one of her arms. "Perhaps Slade is infecting more people with the nanoscopic probes. Even if he is not, he still holds other victims' lives over our heads. He will no doubt activate the probes if we attempt to pursue him."

"Fortunately," Alfred said, "We have a friend on the outside. He's been working on creating an easily dispersible method of disengaging the probes. You can also rest assured, my young friends, that he's aware of our breach in security. In fact, now that Deathstroke has made direct contact with us through the supercomputer, it might even aid in our outside ally's attempts to restore our full control of the Batcave in such a manner that flies under the enemy's radar. I'm afraid other than monitoring Deathstroke's use of the console, there's nothing more I can do without risking reprisal."

"Don't sweat it, Al," Cyborg said. "Sounds like ya'll got an awesome friend out there. I'm guessing they're one of the people who'll be in a lot of trouble if Slade gives up Batman's identity."

"One of many," Alfred said. He looked to Batman. "Perhaps we should continue focusing on understanding the Limiters that have robbed Beast Boy and Raven of their powers."

"Yeah," Beast Boy said, "if we can fix Raven, she can just teleport us out of here without Slade knowing about it."

His stomach suddenly growled. Beast Boy's face flushed a bright red. "Uh… Batman? You don't happen to have any like, um, emergency bat-snacks in here do you, uh, sir?"

Cyborg and Starfire flashed the Dark Knight equally sheepish and hopeful looks.

"I can show them," Raven said. She gestured as if she were a sarcastic tour guide. "This way, people."


As she led the Titans down a stone-carved walkway to a deeper level of the cave, Batman had to suppress his discomfort at the information she possessed through her bond with Robin. He wondered at the depth and breadth of her knowledge. He was sure she knew much more than simple things like where they hid food in the Batcave.

"I must admit," Alfred smiled fondly in the direction the Titans had gone, "I'm impressed with how well they're handling these events. Not only have they dealt with the death of a dear friend, but the violence they've borne witness to, the injuries they've endured. They're a hardy group indeed, and good allies in this fight we face."

"Alfred," Batman said in a voice low enough it would not carry in the cave, "...people like Deathstroke manipulate and take the things they want. Right now, we can assume the Titans are correct. Slade's focus is on getting cured and eliminating his half-brother, but once his revenge against Hijack is over, he'll have to face the reality of what's happened. He's lost his family, Alfred, along with anyone else he may have managed to form a relationship with."

"From what we've learned, Sir, it seems he lost all of them years ago," Alfred replied with a slim note of pity.

"One way or another he's going to re-establish his sense of control," Batman said. "If his plan for Robin fails, he might choose to control the game by bowing out on his own terms."

Alfred glanced towards the Titans to make sure they were still down below in the kitchenette. "Do you believe he'd kill Master Richard along with himself?"

"He'd have to," Batman said. "Otherwise, he'd be giving up control. But more than that, in his own twisted way, I think he's grown to care about Robin."

"Enough at least to end him rather than leave him behind," Alfred said grimly. "We won't let it come to such an end, Sir."

Batman turned back to the small lab. "No, I won't."

Alfred walked up the metal catwalk to resume his vigilance over the cave's supercomputer.

He checked his wristwatch.

Outside, the sun was finally rising.


Robin resisted the urge to reach behind and claw at the itching letters Hijack had carved across his shoulder blades. Each knife-mark comprising the word MINE burned as he sat on the edge of the steel table; hands gripping its edge. Without his cape or the top half of the apprentice uniform, his skin was left exposed to the bunker's chilly air. Yet the biting cold and his injuries were the least of his concerns.

Slade was behind him.

Robin remembered a story his grandmother once told him about a blind mouse who ended up trapped in a magician's trunk along with a cat. The mouse's best defense was to be still and alert.

Robin caught himself waiting to be strangled from behind.

Or Slade could snap his neck.

Or shoot him.

Or ram something sharp through the base of his skull.

Or use a knife to quickly slice open his throat.

There were lots of ways that Slade could kill him. Or torture him.

He could decide to literally rub salt into Robin's wounds just for villainous kicks.

Instead, Slade had spent the last ten minutes applying skin glue and anti-bacterial ointment around each of the swollen letters etched into Robin's back.

"I'm sure you're aware that such deep cuts heal faster when they're left covered only by ointment," Slade told him as he finished placing a large bandage over the wounds, "but considering our current circumstance, you'd probably catch the Plague if we left them unprotected."

Robin slid off the table. The knife-wounds pinched as he hurriedly put on the rest of his clothes. Once dressed, he dropped into a chair that had appeared beside the steel table during his last bout of unconsciousness and wrapped his cape tight around himself to further escape the cold air saturating the room.

Slade set a Styrofoam container onto the steel table along with a bottle of water.

"Eat."

An eyebrow raised beneath Robin's mask as he regarded both items. His distrustful gaze moved up to Slade.

"I can assure you, Apprentice, I haven't gone through all this trouble because of some glorious plan to kill you with takeout. You're dehydrated, and based on how many times you've passed out tonight, your blood pressure is too low. Believe it or not, lugging you around isn't my idea of a good time."

Robin scoffed. "If you'd stop torturing—"

"I didn't ask for an opinion. I ordered you—to eat it."

Robin's instinct was to shove both food and water right off the table. He pushed that instinct aside as he thought of Beast Boy and Raven. They, and others inflected, would only suffer right along with him if he pushed Slade too far. He reached for the water first.

"Good boy," Slade sneered, and Robin struggled not to crush the bottle in his hand. "Not a word until it's finished."

Robin scowled.

He wasn't a small child. He wasn't a dog either.

Still, he refused to let his pride be an excuse for Slade to hurt the others.

The food was a small portion, and Robin's stomach muscles were grateful. Of all his muscle groups, they ached the worst. The nanoscopic probes always seemed to eat at them and the muscles across his lower back the deepest.

As Robin ate, his mind drifted back to when they'd contacted the Batcave. He remembered it like a dream—some parts were crystal clear, while others he wasn't sure if he recalled correctly or if they had happened at all.

Beast Boy stood out the most.

Robin couldn't figure out why his normally green friend had been wearing an activated holowatch. Maybe the Titans had been using their disguises to help Batman search Gotham. This would have also prevented the media from learning about their presence in the city... but Beast Boy was also wearing his winter Titan uniform. Why would he have tweaked his holowatch appearance to show himself wearing a costume instead of regular clothes?

Robin dismissed the puzzle as a false memory.

Finished with his meal, he glanced at Slade before getting up to throw the empty container and water bottle away. As he did so, Slade put away the handheld device.

"Is it true what Beast Boy said about Terra?" Robin asked; his cape around himself.

"A vague question," Slade replied. "I don't know if she's dead, and honestly, Robin, I don't care."

"Beast Boy said you set her up."

In addition to his usual armor (except for his helmet), Slade wore a gun strapped to each thigh, a sword on his back, and other weapons Robin was unaccustomed to seeing him carry. He frowned as Slade checked the ammo in his guns.

"You were living in a giant T-shaped tower on an island right beside the city you regularly defended..." Slade said; glancing to see if Robin was paying attention. "Between you and Terra, who do you think Hijack would have gone after first?"

"She didn't have to die. You could have warned her."

"What makes you so sure she wasn't on my hit list, too?" Slade smirked at the face Robin gave him. "Besides, by the time he found her, you were already boarding a flight for Gotham."

"You mean 'we'."

Slade flashed Robin a grin. He then retrieved his helmet and slipped it on.

Robin was pretty sure he'd seen tigers give tourists the same look at the Gotham City Zoo.

Slade started removing a barricade he'd created from the medical room's door. "You can blame me for Terra's demise if you wish, Robin... but you have to admit, I had no real control over Hijack's decision to seek her first. Or your decision to leave town and come to Gotham of all places. I didn't place Speedy at your Tower. His presence and resemblance to you kept Hijack on the other side of the country much longer than I could have hoped for."

The door swung open and Slade gestured for Robin to come with him out into the bunker's hall. Surprised, Robin warily followed. His nose wrinkled at the sharp smell of blood coming from one of the other rooms. All of the other doors were shut.

"Hijack killed his other victims without any foreplay." Slade headed for the exit ladder. "You survived because in all of your encounters with him, he chose to toy with you instead of carrying out a simple execution. You're the only one who has survived more than a few minutes in his crosshairs. ...As I told you before... you really are a lucky boy."

"Funny," Robin said, "I don't feel that lucky."

"Another trait we have in common," Slade said as they paused at the bottom of the ladder. "We can discuss matters of fate and destiny another time. For now, I have business upstairs, and leaving you down here alone has proven far too much of a risk. I'm not sure how long you'd be able to defend yourself."

"What do you mean? And what's happening upstairs?" Robin asked.

"A meeting." Slade leaned down so that he was at eye level with Robin. "A meeting that you will behave at. Trust me, Apprentice, you don't want Penguin and the others to see what I can do with you. I doubt you'd even be able to stand the lowest setting right now."

Robin scowled. "Who's at this meeting anyway?"

Slade's eye narrowed. "No one that's a fan of yours. Do as I say and I won't turn you into a spectacle for their entertainment. I won't torture the dozen or so who still cling to life in the hospitals or your former friends."

Robin's scowl darkened. He kept his mouth sealed in a tight frown to keep himself from saying anything that might tempt Slade to prove he wasn't bluffing.

He realized Slade awaited a response.

Averting his eyes, Robin muttered, "Fine. I'll do whatever you say."


1) Lex Luthor is based on the incarnation seen in Superman: The Animated Series. Mayor Frank Berkowitz is from the Superman (comics). Lex Luthor hired a sniper to kill him in the original story. Alex Peabody was referenced in earlier chapters. He is William Wintergreen's son in the New 52 Deathstroke (comics) and a former apprentice of Slade's who ended up being his arms dealer. For the purposes of this story he was in his 40's and never knew Grant.

2) Speaking of birch forests, if you like horror, check out CryptTV's The Birch short on YouTube. Birch trees are symbolic of restoration and protection (among other things).

3) The next two chapters are written and will be posted soon. Please let me know what you think.