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Chapter Fourteen
—Dick Grayson—
—Wayne Manor—
"And then he told me it was none of our business, and to stay out of their way! Yeah, right. I mean, I fought that Slade guy! How is it not my business?"
Dick was in the kitchen, his elbows leaning on the granite countertop of the island and his heel frustratedly half-kicking half-tapping the leg of the stool he sat on as he vented to someone he could always count on to listen.
He wasn't in a good mood. The mission had been a bust. Immediately after he asked Other Robin what he thought was an innocent, non-personal, privacy-respecting question, Other Robin stood stunned with a look of utter horror that his mask hadn't done a thing to hide, gave that clipped deflection of an answer, turned to Raven and addressed her by name, and then whoosh! Disappeared in an orb of dark energy. Bye-bye, Titans!
Then it'd been back to the Cave for the Team, and hello disappointed Batman!
Alfred made a sympathetic noise as he wiped down the countertop with a rag.
"Not like I needed him to tell me," Dick continued. "I figured it out myself. I knew I recognized that Slade guy from somewhere. He's a dead ringer for Deathstroke." Pun not initially intended. Wasn't bad, though. He made a mental note to use it if he saw Slade again. "You know, the Terminator. Must be their universe's version."
Searching up the files on his glove-computer during the ride back to the Cave had helped Robin ignore the displeased looks the others in the bio-ship shot his way. His friends hadn't been happy when they found out that he lied to them, again. It was becoming a trend, actually. The lying, the disobeying of orders, the sneaking behind his teammates' backs… All of it was pushing them away from him.
The butler's eyes flicked upwards and met Dick's blue ones for a split second. "Ah. Is that so?"
It was weird how all the adults got so tense when the name Deathstroke was brought up. Bruce, Black Canary… Even the normally unflappable Alfred was kind of… flapped.
"Yep. Didn't Deathstroke drop off the face of the earth? What happened to him?"
"No one knows." The kitchen surfaces were gleaming, so Alfred moved on to drying and stacking dishes away. He was always doing some chore, always busying himself with some task. The kitchen was his domain, and he kept it spotless. "Perhaps he decided to quit, or he could be lying low with a new alias. It's also possible that he is—"
"Dead," Dick finished for him.
The Justice League files were leaning towards that. When Dick looked through Bruce's own files earlier, he'd found that his mentor was a bit more skeptical, pinning a few more recent events to the mercenary, who may have had a hand in them.
Everyone in the hero business knew that the 'presumed dead' bad guys never stayed dead. Heck, even confirmed dead ones came back to life often enough. Yet the Justice League had been eager to label Deathstroke as gone for good… and that was probably why the appearance of his inter-dimensional counterpart was worrying all the adults so much.
But, compared to Deathstroke, this Slade guy seemed like a censored, kid-friendly, TV Y-7 FV-rated version. Or something. His name was less scary. Way less scary. And he didn't have Deathstroke's MO at all. The robot minions were kind of… random, and while Deathstroke was more than capable of taking Robin hand-to-hand from what Robin had read, he was known for using guns or swords. If Robin had met Deathstroke in a dark tunnel, it was likely his team would have found him chopped into itty-bitty pieces.
Then again, Slade had said he wasn't trying to hurt Robin. Which begged the question: Why not?
It was obvious by Slade's comments that he had history with Other Robin. Maybe he had tried to make Robin let his guard down (like that would've happened), so he could beat up or capture Robin as a means to exact revenge on the older version.
What else was new? Robin dealt with similar situations on a near-weekly basis, with Batman's name swapped for Other Robin and any member of their rogue gallery in place of Slade, and always got through relatively unscathed.
Dick couldn't care less about Slade, honestly. The Titans were determined to catch Slade and the rest of their bad guys, the Justice League was determined to find out more about the Titans and their villains, the rest of the Team was determined to prove that they were useful, but all Dick cared about was Other Robin.
Between stifled yawns, Dick tried to explain some of this to Alfred—how Slade seemed different, less dangerous than the feared mercenary—but just like Bruce earlier, Alfred didn't lose that tiny line of wariness between his eyebrows.
"Has Bruce ever gone up against Deathstroke?" Dick hadn't delved too deep in the files yet.
Alfred gave a dignified nod. "I believe the last time was over three years ago, not long after you became the partner of Batman."
"But I haven't… right?"
"No. They crossed paths during a Justice League mission, if I remember correctly. You were asleep in bed. Or, I should say, you were supposed to be."
Dick blinked. Alfred's prompt had nudged at an old, blurry memory. Pushed into a dusty corner and half-forgotten but becoming clearer simply through rediscovery, and as he focused on it the blanks filled themselves in.
He remembered being stirred awake by the beeping of his bedroom computer, which he'd hacked the Batcave's security system with. Whenever Bruce went on late-night missions without him, Dick set it up so he would know exactly when Bruce returned (since Alfred always made the boy go to bed, even though any sleep that came would be fitful at best).
The security footage on the screen had shown Bruce in one piece, thankfully. Clark had been there, too, telling Alfred about Bruce being stubborn and refusing treatment anywhere else, and then Dick saw how Bruce was staggering slightly and clutching his side. Dick bolted down to the Batcave in his pajamas, blocked at the bottom of the last flight of stairs by the famous 'S' shield over a blue background—Superman.
There had been assurances from Clark, from Alfred, and grunted ones from Bruce, and then Dick was being shepherded to bed by Clark and tucked in so tightly that it would've been a challenge getting free, escape artist though he was.
Clark sat at the foot of his bed and told stories—some sort of Kryptonian legends—to try and calm the boy who could only think of flesh being stitched back together in the cave below the mansion. Dick feigned sleep until Clark left, until he heard the door open and Bruce say his name.
And then Dick asked "What happened?' and Bruce slowly—hiding a wince from his wounds—sat at the foot of his bed, in the spot Clark had sat, and told Dick everything in a matter-of-fact, candid, yet succinct manner. Whether it had been from Bruce's voice or the reassuring fact that—despite the dangerous encounter—Bruce was there to recount it, that story had lulled Dick to sleep where the mild, enjoyable Kryptonian legends hadn't.
How old had he been back then? Ten? Looking back, Dick felt like he'd been so young. He supposed the vigilante life did that to a person. Years felt like decades.
Was that why Other Robin kept treating him so weird? There wasn't that large an age difference between them, but he had been able to tell by Other Robin's tone and the way he acted around Robin, that the older teen considered Robin to be just a kid.
"In light of this development, will you and your team continue with your mission?"
"Huh?" Dick was snapped out of his musings by Alfred's question. "Oh. Yeah, we are. Bruce didn't have much of a choice. He gave us three tries to bring in the Titans, and we've only used two. The others practically threatened to start going on unauthorized missions again, if he took the Titans case away. 'Sides, it's not Slade we're going after. It's the Titans. For now."
Their objectives had been clear from the beginning: round up the Titans, deliver them to the Justice League, gain information about them and their bad guys, and go from there. Chasing after the baddies blindly might lead to some nasty surprises. (Slade was proof of that.) Even the Justice League was wary of going after the bad guys without more info.
Dick yawned again. Alfred would shoo him off to bed any minute now, but no matter how tired he was, he doubted he'd manage to snatch more than a couple hours of sleep tonight. Too much had happened. Too much was buzzing through his mind. He could still hear his friends' voices, sharp with indignation as they tried to defend their mission from the prying grasp of Batman and the Justice League.
You promised us one more chance!
If they can handle this Slade guy, so can we.
This is our mission! You can't jump in like that.
Now they were given one more shot. One last chance. Batman would let them confront the Titans one more time, tomorrow night. If the Titans refused to listen to reason and surrender peaceably, the Team would have permission to detain the rogue heroes until the Justice League could arrive.
It was more than they could have hoped for, after tonight. Dick felt like it was odd how Batman—Bruce—had folded like that. Not to mention that Bruce hadn't said a word to Dick about how he ran away from his team, cut off all communication, faced an unknown enemy, and got injured (rather stupidly, for all of it). Not a single word. Not a single criticism. Bruce was more… distant. More lenient? Dick couldn't quite put his finger on it. His digits drummed restlessly on the countertop as though trying to pin down an answer.
"Bruce's been acting strange lately," Dick told Alfred, hoping the butler could offer some insight. "Kinda broody. Well, broodier than usual. And a bit…" The word 'distracted' came to mind, except that word and Bruce could never go together unless the 'dis' was dropped. "…preoccupied. Is he just peeved that X-Man keeps getting away, or is something else going on?" Dick slouched on the stool gloomily. "He's not mad that we haven't brought the Titans in yet, is he? It isn't our fault that they don't play nice with others."
"I'm certain it has nothing to do with you, Master Dick. He simply needs a good night's rest… which he won't get tonight. The appearance of this Slade will likely have him up and worrying until dawn. For good reason, I'll admit."
But Bruce had been acting strangely for days, long before Slade came into the picture. Dick could trace it back to when they first found out about the Titans. He supposed the inter-dimensional thing was enough to freak anyone out slightly, even Batman.
"The Titans will be there if the Slade guy shows up again," said Dick, because Alfred seemed worried about Slade too and Dick didn't like it when Alfred seemed worried. "Raven took him down in three seconds." Sure, it had just been a robot, but still. "It'll be no problem."
"Would Raven be the young lady with the healing abilities?" asked Alfred. He was probably thinking about how useful it would be to have someone like that around. Dick was thinking the same thing. Mystical healing powers were cool.
Bruce wouldn't agree, though. When the Dynamic Duo returned to the Batcave, Bruce had insisted that a full check-up was done on Dick's leg because for some reason he didn't trust sketchy, dark-tinted magic from an inter-dimensional stranger. After the x-rays had shown that everything was a-okay, Alfred had been relieved and a tiny bit impressed, and Bruce had been relieved but still a lot suspicious, and Dick had been relieved and expressed it by doing a backflip off of the giant penny, just because he could.
"Yeah, that's her," answered Dick. "She's nice. She seemed scary at first, but then she healed my knee and we talked."
"If you don't mind me asking, sir… What did you talk about?"
"Just The Titans. And her. And me. The other me. She knows a lot about him." More than a lot. Dick had been able to tell—just by the way she talked to him—that she knew everything. "They've been friends for a long time, and she cares about him a lot."
"It sounds as though he is very lucky to have her." Alfred closed the cupboard and turned to Dick. "Do you want me to prepare you a snack?"
"No thanks, I'm good."
Bedtime snack tended to be overly healthy. The adults had decided it was best not to give Dick too much sugar right before bed, after some incidents in the past. He wished they'd get over that—he was a lot more mature now, and the old chandelier had been an eyesore anyway. But Alfred would turn his back and pretend not to notice if Dick grabbed a cookie from the jar, unless he pushed his luck and tried to sneak two.
"Off to bed, now," said Alfred.
Obediently, Dick slipped off the stool. He gave his loudest yawn yet, stretching his arms up. There was no use of arguing with Alfred, no use in pretending he wasn't tired. "Are you going down to the Batcave?" he asked, noticing how Alfred was packing up the kitchen for the night.
Alfred neatly folded a dishtowel, then took a step back and surveyed the room with the eyes of a hawk, searching for anything left dirty or out of place. "Indeed. I need to have a chat with Master Bruce."
"Hmm?" Chat? About what? Dick tilted his head to the side, looking at Alfred quizzically. Any curiosity was sapped by another yawn and a wave of sleepiness. "Tell him I said good-night, 'kay?" Dick dipped his hand into the cookie jar on his way to the door. He smiled mischievously. Maybe this time he could get away with—
"Only one, Master Dick."
How did he always know?
oOo
—Teen Titans: Robin—
—Outside Brick City—
Like how a dropped coin took a clattering second to settle, a dropped conversation was followed a moment of awkward unease, particularly when the person being discussed had just come within earshot.
That was the kind of atmosphere Robin was met with when he slid open the door and stepped out of the control room. The murmur of voices had stopped and Beast Boy, Speedy, and Jinx were busying themselves in the kitchen area in front of him, down the tiny hallway, not looking at each other or at him. Guilt hung over them like a cloud. Robin didn't need to be trained at reading people by Batman in order to tell that they had been talking about him.
Speedy was going through his night-time ritual of laying out his arrows on the countertop and closely inspecting them one-by-one—which never failed to make Robin feel less neurotic by comparison. Jinx was flitting between half-heartedly teasing her hair up in front of her reflection on the microwave window and eating peanut butter straight from the jar with a spoon. The jar was passed back-and-forth between her and Beast Boy, who was humming a tune to fill the tense silence as he put together some PB&J sandwiches.
The door to the girl's 'room' was open. Inside, Raven was meditating on the bottom bunk, carefully levitating at only the smallest height so she didn't bang her head on the bunk above. She cracked open an eyelid and looked at Robin. "What did Cyborg say?"
Robin leaned against the closed door to the boy's room, facing Raven. From that position he could easily talk to Raven and the rest of the team in the kitchen—the ship was that small. They often had conversations while in different parts of the ship with walls between them, not needing to look at each other or raise their voices because the sound didn't very far to travel.
He did his best to paraphrase Cyborg's explanation—some of the techno-speak he had trouble understanding himself. "There's no way he can get us better access to the League's satellite. Apparently we're lodged at a very specific level, and if we attempt to hack further the backlash from their security will wipe out our systems."
"That would be bad."
"Very bad."
It hadn't been much of a problem finding Johnny Rancid, who left a blazing trail of graffiti for them to follow. Finding Slade would be much, much tougher (unless the Titans wanted to fall into a trap), and after everything that happened tonight, they needed to find and stop Slade now more than ever, before he made another move.
If they could pinpoint exactly where he was, it would help immensely… in theory. There was still the huge problem of that other team. Trying to convince them to back off had been a total bust. Robin was beginning to wonder whether it would be worth the risk to bite the bullet and let them tag along. If they did, maybe he could get Beast Boy to go octopus or something, and restrain Kid Robin so he didn't get anywhere near Slade.
Wow, Robin was really running out of ideas.
Raven seemed to understand what Robin was thinking about, either through her powers or because she could recognize the look on his face when he thought about that particular villain. "We should have told them more about Slade."
"Raven, how are we supposed to explain him to those people?"
Robin could imagine how it would go: 'The last time we fought Slade he was an undead messenger to the incarnation of evil. The time before that he was a hallucination that beat me mercilessly until I was on the brink of death. And the time before that…'
"That's a good question," Beast Boy piped up as he poured himself a glass of soy milk. "If they said, 'tell us about Slade', where would we begin?"
Jinx tapped a finger against her cheek, pretending to think deeply. "Well, he likes robots."
"And triggers," added Raven, without any hint of amusement.
"And Robin," said Speedy, with plenty of it. Robin shot him a glare of warning, which he pretended not to notice.
"Team, we need to talk seriously for a couple minutes. It's debriefing time." Robin waited. No one seemed to have heard him. "I mean it. Pay attention. This is important."
"Yeah, yeah, we're listening," said Speedy dismissively, not looking up from the arrow he was contemplating. Likewise, the other Titans were giving Robin their very divided attention.
Robin sighed, because he was quite certain that Justice League debriefings did not coincide with snack-time. But then again, they did have the Flash.
Robin sensed that something was off about the scene in front of him—the same, hard-earned sense that alerted him in the field to traps and clues, and alerted him at home to whether someone had been in his room or messed with his R-Cycle (usually Beast Boy). Robin couldn't turn it off. He scanned his surroundings, until he realized what was weird.
"Jinx, why haven't you changed?"
Upon returning 'home', everyone else had switched to a fresh outfit, of the few they had left. Between paint, slime, and extreme wear-and-tear, Robin was running out of wearable uniforms.
"What?" She looked over at him and then down at her clothes. The spandex was caked with paint in every colour of the rainbow. "Oh. I only had a few of these, and they're all pretty much ruined now. I always meant to make more, part of the whole 're-invention' thing. I was thinking of going all-out with the hero look—y'know, with a cape and a mask and a little 'J' logo right here?" She pointed over her heart and gave a small laugh that wasn't echoed in her eyes, the joke falling flat. "But then… I just never got around to it."
"You don't have any clean clothes?"
"I have one outfit left. An old one. I threw it in my suitcase because it was so empty."
She had packed oddly light for someone so clothes-obsessed. Robin remembered Cyborg teasing that the boys' hair products outweighed both girls' suitcases combined. Which was a blatant exaggeration.
There was a shrug from the girl as she carelessly combed her fingers through her pink hair, making it stand straight up, and regarded her reflection in the microwave door. She let her hair tumble back down over her shoulders. "Maybe later." In an obvious plea for a change of topic, Jinx picked up the milk carton and sniffed it delicately. "I think the soy milk's spoiled."
"Can that stuff even go bad?" asked Speedy.
It was confirmed that yes, it could, when Beast Boy—who hadn't been paying attention to the conversation—took the first big gulp from his glass and immediately spat it out. With a sputtering cry of disgust, he rushed over to the sink to rinse out his mouth under the tap, heedlessly knocking aside Jinx and Speedy as he went.
Jinx was shoved so that her forehead slammed against the corner of the microwave. Clutching her head and doubled over in pain, she hissed a few acerbic phrases that she could only have learned from Gizmo.
Speedy collided with the counter, the edge ramming into his ribs. There was a snapping sound, which turned out to be from the trick arrow in his hands. It must have been a combustive or flare arrow, because suddenly his shirt was on fire. Flames were spreading across the red fabric that would be resistant to fire—considering their line of work—but not indefinitely fire-proof. He yelped and turned towards the sink, the nearest source of water, except Beast Boy had dibs on the faucet. So instead Speedy grabbed the carton of soy milk and used that to douse the flames, leaving him dripping and soggy and looking very, very displeased at all of them for witnessing what he had resorted to.
Robin cracked up, letting out a soft bark of a laugh that sounded more like a cough than anything. He couldn't help it—the scene was just too ridiculous. And there had been so little to laugh about lately.
Raven had craned her neck forward to peek around the doorframe at the chaos.
"This… isn't working, is it?" Robin asked her, trying to stifle a smile.
She leaned back and hummed in agreement. "Once we've started lighting each other on fire, we have to admit that there's a problem. But it could be worse. Imagine if Cyborg and Starfire were here instead."
True, their clunky and overly-energetic friends would make the small space seem a lot smaller. But Robin had a feeling that, if they were here, he wouldn't mind at all.
Suddenly, Robin gave a shudder as a cold feeling washed over him. He clenched his eyes shut until it passed and the lightheadedness went away.
Raven had told them how homesickness could manifest more noticeably when there was a whole dimension between them and their home. According to her, the feeling—which felt to Robin like stone fingers tightly seizing something inside his chest and quickly letting go—was harmless as long as they knew where they truly belonged. That didn't stop it from jarring Robin when it overtook him now and then.
And everything that had seemed funny less than a minute ago wasn't funny anymore. How were they supposed to finish their mission and finally go home if they were this clumsy? Sure, no one was hurt—Jinx only had a tiny mark on her forehead and Speedy had avoided getting burnt—but it was still really pitiful. No wonder the Justice League thought they couldn't take care of themselves.
"We need to find out what Slade's planning," said Robin sternly. He must have struck the right tone this time, because everyone straightened up and paid attention. "We need to find him and we need to take him down before he hurts anyone."
"Anyone else," Raven corrected. "Robin, you can't ignore the possibility that Slade's plan has to do with—"
"I'm not. Trust me, no one takes this more seriously than me."
"If you told him, he might have understood."
"If it gets to a point where I need to tell him more, I will. But not yet. I promise, we'll take care of Slade before…" Before the kid makes the same mistakes I did. Except he already made one. "He should have stayed with his team. None of this would even—" Robin grew flustered, and ran a hand through his hair. "I mean— Why— Why would he run off like that, and face Slade on his own?"
"I don't know, Robin," Raven replied evenly. "You tell me. Why would he run off like that, and face Slade on his own?"
"That was different! I knew he was a robot, and he was getting away, and…"
Robin's teammates had their differences, but at that moment they all managed to give him the exact same look (which was especially impressive considering that Raven couldn't see the other three and vice versa). A look that told Robin how utterly unconvincing he was being, and that he better shut his mouth because any more talking would only dig him deeper into the hole he'd created with his words.
"Dude, you're starting to act crazy and Slade-obsessed again," said Beast Boy.
"Guys, I'm fine. It's fine."
Speedy shook his head as he dabbed at the front of his shirt with a dish rag. "No, it's not. We think you have a problem."
"Robin," said Jinx reassuringly, "we're doing this because we care about you…"
Robin blinked in incredulity. "Is this an intervention?" Was this what they had been talking about before he walked in?
"A Slade-tervention," Beast Boy quipped. "Look, we know he's the Joker to your Batman, but…"
"No, I wouldn't say that," Speedy interjected. He had gone back to inspecting his arrows, and was weighing a trick one in his hands. "The Joker's way crazier."
"It's the whole nemesis thing."
Robin rolled his eyes. "Beast Boy, it's completely different." And who would know more on the subject than Robin, who had first-hand experience with the Joker, Batman, and Slade?
"I agree with Robin," Jinx cut in as she helped herself to one of the sandwiches Beast Boy made. "I don't think the Joker ever tried to mold Batman into a mini version of himself."
"Fine," Beast Boy conceded. "Then… Slade's… the Lex Luthor to Robin's—"
Her first bite of PB&J was swallowed just in time for her to interrupt. "No, that's not quite it, either."
"Can we please stop with the comparisons?" asked Raven politely. Underneath that 'please' was a hidden warning. She only ever asked politely once.
"Yeah, I thought we were supposed to be intervening." Speedy pointed an arrow at Beast Boy in accusation. "This is the worst intervention ever."
"S'okay," said Beast Boy. "Let's start over."
"Lets not." Robin was determined to nip the intervention idea in the bud. "Guys, Slade orchestrated this entire inter-dimensional mess, used us as test subjects, and we don't know all the details about how orwhy. It's understandable that I'm intent on catching him." Robin paused and met eyes with each member of his team in turn. "I don't think you're taking this seriously enough."
They all stared at Robin, unimpressed, like he had proven their point for them, and then Speedy mouthed something to Beast Boy and Jinx that looked like 'lost cause'.
"And he attacked a parallel version of myself," Robin added.
"Are you still freaked out about that?" asked Beast Boy. "Why? What would he want with a thirteen-year-old Robin?"
"That is a loaded question," Speedy said in a low voice.
"Seriously. I don't see the whole apprentice thing happening, if that's what you're worried about. The whole reason Slade liked Robin was because Robin was like him, and Robin Jr doesn't seem to be a whole lot like Robin, so he's not like Slade. So Slade like, won't like Robin Jr. You know?"
"Eloquently put," Raven remarked. Her eyes were closed as she spoke. Robin often wondered whether she could actually do the impossible and converse while meditating, or if she just pretended to meditate so that she could pick and choose what she responded to and when. Knowing Raven, it could be either one.
"Little Boy Blunder might be easier to manipulate," explained Jinx. "He's younger, so he's innocent and impressionable. Not to mention super adorable. I think we should arrange a trade, actually. He's precious."
"If he wanted a Robin as his apprentice again, he wouldn't need to cross dimensions. He could just retry the probe thing, with a better remote that could target people one at a time." Beast Boy turned to Robin with a grin and said jokingly, "Hey, Robin. If Slade's remote control was half as fancy as the one for our TV, you'd still be working for him."
And you'd probably be dead. That was a horrible thought, so Robin kept his mouth clamped shut. He wasn't like Beast Boy. He couldn't make light of that experience, no matter how much time had passed. It had all been too real. Awful and unexpected like a bad dream, except he'd known that there was no hope of waking and having it all disappear. And all of it was his fault, too. He had fallen straight into Slade's trap, and was waist-deep in the quicksand that was the man's 'deal' before he even realized what happened.
Beast Boy kept grinning crookedly. "I can't believe he didn't think of that."
"You should be a criminal mastermind, Beast Boy," Speedy said absently.
"Really?" He looked far too excited at the idea.
"Slade can't get his hands on that kind of technology again," said Robin. "The Justice League is keeping tabs on the field of nanorobotics, since that happened. If Slade started asking around and looking for parts, we'd hear about it." Hopefully.
It had been beyond embarrassing to explain what happened with Slade to Batman back then, but it was worth the humiliation—Robin's few short sentences of warning likely stopped Slade from a repeat attempt targeting either the Titans or the Justice League.
Speedy smirked at Robin. "Maybe Slade'll make you two Robins fight each other to the death to see who's more worthy of being his apprentice."
"Speedy, don't even joke like that."
"Too soon?" Speedy was answered with a glare. "All right, sore subject. Got it."
Brushing aside arrows to make room (much to the archer's aggravation), Jinx hoisted herself up to sit on the countertop. "So," she said thoughtfully, "Slade may or may not be trying to get a new, younger Robin apprentice."
Beast Boy shook his head. "I think he's just trying to take things over."
"So, Slade may or may not be trying to get a new, younger Robin apprentice. Or take things over," Jinx revised.
"Or take over things."
"Well, we've made progress tonight." Speedy yawned. "I say we quit while we're ahead."
"I wish I knew where he got the parts to build those robots so soon." Thoroughly exasperated, Robin pressed his palm to his forehead. "He said he had 'contacts'. But who? And how?"
"Oh!" To get their attention, Beast Boy flailed his arms like he was in a classroom and desperate to answer the teacher's question. "What if this is where he's from? This world? And he travelled to ours, and now he's back home?"
"I don't know… Could be, but that theory's a little—"
"Oh!" The flailing became wilder, and he almost whacked Speedy in the back of the head. "I just thought something else! There could be another Slade here, and they're plotting together! What if—now just hear me out—what if the Slades both want something similar? And they're working together to make it happen." He gestured a large square in front of him with his hands. "Picture this: Slades with matching Robin apprentices, taking things over. Or taking over things. Can you imagine?"
"Aww!" Jinx drawled sardonically. "That's so—"
Robin narrowed his eyes in warning. "Choose your next words carefully."
"—not cute. Not a cute idea at all." But she couldn't keep a straight face as she said it, sharing a small, wicked grin with Beast Boy.
"But still, what if there are two Slades?" asked Beast Boy. "How messed up would that be?"
"There wasn't anything about Slade in this Justice League's database," recalled Robin.
"Yeah, but back then we didn't know he was involved," said Speedy. "It wasn't like we went searching for information about him from the start." I did, thought Robin. "He could be in the higher-security files that we couldn't access."
"So, there may or may not be two Slades here," summarized Jinx.
"Wow, we're on a roll tonight," Speedy said sarcastically.
For the first time in a while, Raven spoke. "I don't think two Slades would get along very well…"
Speedy crossed his arms. "Then maybe we should stand aside and watch them take each other out."
"Your stab at pragmatism is, well, deplorable," said Jinx haughtily. "But you do have a point. Sort of. We let them fight, and go after Rouge in the meantime. Perfect plan."
"No, we have to go after Slade first. He's actively attacking us." And Robin didn't like how Slade had stopped roaming and stuck to Metropolis for the past three days… It was even more ominous. Had he set up a base? "If we could just get one confrontation with him—the real Slade—without that other team around, I'm sure we could beat him." Knowing he was going to regret asking the next question, he winced in advance. "Any ideas?"
Speedy cleared his throat importantly. "We should take a less gentle approach." He punched a fist to his palm. "A much less gentle approach. Here's what we'll do: lure them out tomorrow night, and then beat the crap out of them so they can't follow us when we go take down Slade afterwards."
"That's an awful idea," said Jinx after a long pause in which everyone stared at the archer and wondered if he was joking. "There's no way it would work. I mean, how do you suggest we fight the Superboy? We can't. He's invincible."
That was why it was an awful idea?
"We're not fighting them," stated Robin as clearly as possible so his teammates got the message. "We're not fighting them ever again."
"We could lure them into a trap instead. A trap to keep them contained long enough so we can go after Slade," Jinx suggested, and then added nonchalantly, "and/or Rouge."
"If we try anything like that," said Raven, "the Justice League will be outraged. I have a feeling their patience is wearing thin, and any threats to that team will be the last straw."
A connection was made, so sudden and significant that it left Robin feeling jolted like he'd stuck his finger in a socket. He stiffened, eyes wide and then narrow, making everyone look over at him and wonder what was wrong.
"I— I just remembered something Red X said," Robin explained. "About how it was getting too hard to 'try anything' in our world, because of the increase in hero presence."
"You think Slade's here because of that reason, too?" asked Raven.
"Could be. It makes sense. There aren't any Teen Titans here. There's just the Justice League, and they'll have a harder time keeping control everything by themselves." There was that team of young heroes too, but they seemed more like the League's errand-runners than a force to be reckoned with in their own right. "In our world—us, plus the League—we…"
"We suffocated our bad guys so much that Slade came here for a little air," finished Speedy.
"It's only a theory, but…"
"You mean this is all because we did too good a job?" Beast Boy groaned in frustration and tugged at his hair. "Can we ever just win and have things stay won?"
"No. Things don't work that way," Speedy told the green boy with mock-solemnity. " Welcome to the hero business, Beast Boy."
"Clearly we didn't do 'too good a job'," said Robin, "or we would have figured out Slade's plan and stopped it before anyone crossed over into this universe."
"None of this would have happened if you kept all the villains frozen after the Brotherhood incident," Jinx told them, and Robin knew she wasn't only referring to the inter-dimensional disaster.
"That's inhumane," Raven replied.
"They would've done it to you."
"Exactly."
"We don't make those decisions, Jinx," said Robin. "We just round up the bad guys."
"Speaking of rounding up the bad guys…" said Speedy. "What's our next move? If we can't go after Slade without those kids throwing themselves into danger after us…"
"Same for Madame Rouge," Jinx muttered.
"We could take down Killer Moth. He should be easy," Beast Boy said. "I wonder what he's doing. He hasn't moved in like, a week."
Jinx shrugged. "The usual: sulking and hiding and plotting. Probably thinks Kitten's in prison here somewhere, ever since we caught her, and looking for a way to bust her out."
"He hasn't had enough time to raise any moth larvae thingies though, has he?"
"Don't think so. We have him pegged at what—a three week cycle from breakout to plot execution?" She looked to Robin for confirmation.
"About three and a half, at most."
"Yeah, but that's back at home, where he's not all loopy and confused and where he knows where to find supplies and equipment and stuff," said Beast Boy. "So we should have plenty of time, right?"
"Slade didn't seem to have a problem getting his robots built, though," Robin pointed out.
Jinx stretched and yawned like a cat. "Robot armies are much more commonplace than moth armies. Give me unlimited cash and a few days and I bet I could get over a hundred droids built for myself."
"Are we actually going to chase after Killer Moth next?" asked Raven. "I thought Slade was our number one priority."
"We're not, and he is," Robin said.
"Then why are we having this discussion?"
"Beast Boy brought it up," said Jinx, smoothly shifting the blame.
"I was just trying to bounce ideas around!" Beast Boy pouted and crossed his arms defensively. "But, fine, if you don't want me to say anything then I won't." That vow of silence lasted under ten seconds. He stared past Robin, eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment. "Uh… you know how sometimes you can see double? Am I seeing half, or did the number of signals drop?"
Robin turned his head, following Beast Boy's gaze down the hallway, through the open door of the control room, and to the computer screen that was tracking the energy signals in the country. There were supposed to be nine, but clearly there was less than that.
Robin dashed into the control room and his eyes scanned the screen in disbelief. He blinked, hoping that it was a trick his tired eyes were playing on him and the signals would magically reappear. They didn't.
He counted slowly. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…! He zoomed out and checked the entire planet for dots, but there were no more than seven. Five Titans. Two criminals, one in Gotham City and one in Metropolis: Red X and Slade. (And although Robin should be frantic over the disappearances, he took a small breath of relief because they still had Slade.)
"Where did they go?" demanded Jinx from the doorway where the other Titans except Raven had gathered, verging on shrill. "Where did they— She can't just— We have to find her!"
"How did they disappear like that?" asked Speedy.
"That team said they wanted to help…" Beast Boy reminded them. "Maybe they did, and found a way to—"
Robin shook his head. "No, it can't be. Cyborg would notice. He would call us right away. There has to be another reason…" And there was. There was another reason and it was a bad one. "Why is he way brighter?" Robin muttered to himself.
"What?"
"Kid Flash said it when he saw me and Red X. He had these special goggles, and with them he could see the energy left by the portal. He asked why Red X glowed brighter than me." And Robin had been too worried about X and getting away from the Kids to register what was hidden in those words.
Speedy understood. "The energy residue's wearing off."
Scowling darkly, Jinx vented by slamming a fist against the wall. "It's official: this universe hates us."
"Well," said Beast Boy, "at least there's no way things can get any—"
"Don't say it!" Speedy interrupted quickly, motioning for him stop. "You know what happens when someone says that."
"There's no point," said Jinx spitefully, noticing Robin place markers on the map where Rogue and Killer Moth had last been; between Steel and Gotham, and in Washington, DC. "We'll never find Rouge now. She travels around too much."
Robin didn't reply, too busy wondering how things could have gone from bad to worse to horrible; too busy wishing that it was their own signals that had disappeared, so the Justice League couldn't track them. The Titans crossed over a week after the villains, and it wasn't like they could wait a whole week for their signals to fade before making their next move. Who knew how much Slade could accomplish in a whole week? He'd already accomplished too much already. They had allowed him to accomplish too much already. He had set up suppliers, created robot minions, and possibly established a base in Metropolis while the Titans were busy fighting the other heroes.
"Robin, what are we gonna do now?" Beast Boy asked hesitantly. "Things are getting kind of...serious…"
"One more day," said Robin. "Just one more. If we don't manage to bring in Slade by this time tomorrow, we go to the Justice League and…" Beg them to take down Slade for us. "…ask them for help."
His teammates shrank from the idea, because the Teen Titans had never asked the Justice League of their own universe for help. Never. Help from the older heroes wouldn't come unconditionally. If the Titans started wavering and showing weakness, the League would see them as incapable—think that they needed supervision—and the League would pry into the Titans' affairs until they eventually lost their independence and were swallowed up by the larger organization.
Robin gulped, remembering how close the Justice League had come to doing just that, a few months ago. He and Batman were on even worse terms since then, if that was possible.
All the yelling… Robin had tried to explain that it wasn't his fault; that it hadn't been done on his orders; that he hadn't even known until it was too late, but that empty, dead feeling inside his gut told him that, as leader, it was entirely his fault. Batman had heaped on the blame, calling him irresponsible and reckless, stupid and careless. What did Robin expect was going to happen? Leading a bunch of untrained, inexperienced kids into danger like that? This wasn't a game—it was an unyielding, unmerciful, demanding… the smallest mistakes meant dire consequences… it could and would happen again… clearly wasn't taking his responsibility as leader seriously enough… the others followed him blindly; trusted him absolutely… any negligence on his part would result in… And then Robin called his old mentor some unpleasant names back, and it all went downhill from there.
"This… this has gone on long enough." He only hoped that they hadn't screwed everything up by waiting as long as they did.
"Well…" began Speedy with the air of someone who had something fantastic to share, so everyone better listen up or they would miss out. "If we have one more day left, why not make the most of it? I have an idea—"
"We're not beating them up, Speedy. I already told you—"
Speedy held up his hands in a 'whoa there' gesture. "Robin! Hey! Just let me talk for a sec, all right?" To annoy Robin, Speedy waited long enough for him to get impatient before speaking again. "Like I was saying before I was interrupted, we have one more day. First point: that other team… They said they worked for the League. They're still sidekicks. They're kids, and tomorrow's a weekday."
"You don't actually think that'll work, do you?" Jinx pursed her lips critically. "Being goody-two-shoes heroes won't stop them from playing hooky if the League wants them to."
Speedy deliberately ignored her. "Second point: I think they're a secret team. We usually work at night, and I think they do, too."
That theory made Jinx do an about-face. "Kid Flash was wearing black." Realization was dawning in her eyes. "He never wore black."
"We didn't find out about them until they started chasing after us," continued Speedy, "and there's nothing about them on the internet."
Beast Boy nodded slowly. "That's right! They didn't even have a fan page. We have like, fifty of them. But maybe they're an unpopular team, so nobody made one for them…" At the word 'unpopular' his gaze drifted over to Speedy. "Wait, do you guys at Titans East have one?"
"Of course we do," Speedy answered shortly.
Raven's voice drifted out of her room. "Fan pages run by Control Freak don't count."
"Hey, we earned that fan page! You're just jealous—"
"That he moved to Steel City to stalk you and now we don't have to deal with him anymore? Yes, we're so envious, Speedy."
"Whatever." Speedy scowled for a moment. Seeing the expectant look on Robin's face, he got back on topic. "Right. So, if we go out during the day, we might catch them off-guard and get a good few hours to ourselves. They won't be expecting it."
Robin sighed tiredly. "That's risky. We want to avoid going out during the day if we can, especially in cities as populated as Metropolis. If we're seen by civilians…"
"But I don't think they want to risk being seen by civilians either, if they can help it. They're a secret team. And if they do decide to come after us, we'll have them scrambling to prepare for the mission, giving us a bit of time."
"I'm not sure…" Robin put his hand to his chin as he thought, aware that everyone was watching him and waiting for an answer. He was really on the fence. What were their chances of locating Slade, of all people, in a city like Metropolis? Slim to none. Their only hope would be if Slade confronted them.
"We could wear disguises?" offered Beast Boy. Robin, yanked from his train of thought, stared at him in confusion. "You know, so people don't notice us? I couldn't, but the rest of you could?"
"No. If we can't find Slade, we want Slade to be able to find us." And fighting Slade in restricting civilian clothes without proper gear would be a death wish. Great, Robin was already fleshing out the details of the plan. He supposed that now he didn't have any choice but to roll with it. "We'll just have to be extra careful not to be seen by anyone besides him."
"Good idea, then?" asked Speedy. "You think it'll work?"
"It might," admitted Robin. "But if it does, it'll only work once. So we have to make it count. If they don't show up, great. If they do, then…" He shrugged. "It's worth a shot. I hope you guys don't mind getting up early tomorrow."
There was a collective groan.