Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All copyright and credit goes to the original creators of the Teen Titans, Batman, and the DC Universe. This is for entertainment purposes only! I do not own any of the characters!

A/N: Wow. Where to even start!

It's been almost three months since I last updated but it seriously only feels like a week. Sorry for saying I was going to start updating on a weekly basis again, school just decided to get really stressful these past few months and this story stumped me! When I started writing it I never had a clear direction of where I was going...I knew where I wanted to go but I just didn't know how to get there.

That being said I think I've finally figured out the plot! Key word - think! I don't know, I think it could work and I'm going to give it a go! I got the idea a few nights ago and wrote an outline out...

So we shall see!

Thanks to all the wonderful reviews. I greatly appreciate the support. I hate long gaps between updates so I'll try to be better.

Quick SUMMARY: After much arguing, Robin and Slade finally came to an agreement and now are on their way to scout out the Joker's haunts in search of Batman...

With that Chapter 21, ENJOY!

Chapter 21

Who's there?...

"I think the color is quite flattering actually, Robin."

"You'd better shut up before my fist becomes a permanent residence in your mask, Slade."

"Now that wasn't very nice."

"Since when have I ever been nice to you?"

"Point taken."

Robin squinted his eyes and caught the dim outline of the man a few feet in front of him. The boy dropped down from the ledge severely hating himself at the moment. How Slade had even convinced him to wear this atrocity again? For the millionth time that night, the boy glanced down at the uniform to make sure the 'S' emblem hadn't magically reappeared. His scowl thickened as he remembered the conversation he had had with the man a mere hour ago.

"No."

Robin gave the man the fiercest glare he could muster which – considering the situation – was slightly dimmed due to the menacing tone in Slade's voice. But the boy had a line he wouldn't cross, sure it was almost a blurred smudge by now, but it was still there.

And this, this was pushing it.

"This isn't an option-"

"No. It isn't. I'm not wearing it."

Slade slammed his hand down on the thick table sending a loud reverberation through the room.

"You're not showing up in the Jokers hideout wearing a traffic colored costume that practically shouts 'shoot me'!"

Robin's face flushed with heat at the insult, but let it slide as he had learned a long time ago to ignore the invectives his costume attracted.

"I have some back at the tower that I use for recon missions. They're not 'traffic colored' if you're worried about attracting attention."

"We don't have time to go all the way back to the Tower, Robin," Slade snapped as he clicked his arm guards into place.

"Oh come on, Slade. It will only take like an hour-"

"We don't have an hour Robin. If we are going to hit all of the haunts tonight, we need every second possible. You're wasting time."

Robin growled under his breath, muttering to himself at the pure evil Slade was asking him to commit at the moment.

"Well, you're just going to have to deal with it, because I'm not wearing that."

Slade sighed to himself as he paused in his actions and set his gaze directly towards the insolent boy.

"I don't understand what the problem is."

Robin's eyes widened behind his mask as he wildly gestured to the item on the table.

"THE PROBLEM IS THAT YOU WANT ME TO WEAR MY APPRENTICE UNIFORM AGAIN."

The boy huff in frustration and paced away as he tried to unsuccessfully reign in his temper. The logical side of himself told him that he was overreacting, but the other part of himself wrenched away in fear from the horrible memories that suit brought back.

Another sigh sounded from the man as Slade lifted the Kelvar suit off the table and said, "It's only for one night, Robin."

The boy was already furiously shaking his head however as he gazed at the horrid item.

"Just let me go back to the Tower and get my uniform, Slade."

Slade growled, dragging a hand through his short, white hair. "Robin your uniform will not stop a bullet from driving into your heart and killing you. This," the man lifted the black and dull orange suit into the air and gestured to the boy, "this will."

"I'm not wearing it," Robin replied obstinately.

A few moments passed in an anxious silence as the boy waited for the storm that would surely follow his comment. He was surprised the man had lasted this long without lashing out in anger. In fact, he was surprised the man was even being civil about this whole mess.

"Robin, listen to me," Slade said as he walked around the table laden with various weapons. The boy's eyes widened as he quickly took a few steps back and threw up his hands.

"I'm not trying to make you mad, please don-"

"Robin."

The single word silenced the boy as he furtively looked away from the man who had paused in front of him. He took a deep breath as his eyes fell back onto the haunting suit on the table.

"I'm not you, Slade."

"I'm not asking you to be."

"You…" Robin whispered, his voice suddenly failing him. He felt his hands begin to shake as the memories slowly trickled back into his mind – memories he had kept locked and hidden away. He had sworn to himself that he would never put that suit on again. It held too much weight, too many bad memories, and too many terrible consequences.

Deep down inside of himself, he feared if he put the suit back on, he would never be able to take it off again.

To be trapped and to be changed.

Into a criminal.

Into a monster.

"I understand," Slade said softly, causing the boy to look up and into his gray eye. Slade reached out and grabbed his shoulder, turning him so that he faced the Kelvar uniform resting on the table.

"That suit," the man said while shaking Robin softly, "that suit doesn't define you as anything. It can't force you into something you're not. It never has and never will. As I said before, you will always be you, Robin."

His muscles relaxed under the man's grip as the words brought him a degree of clarity. It was after all just a heap metal.

"Besides," Slade continued, dropping his hand and walking over to the table, "it isn't even the same suit. It's one of the older prototypes I had made. You still have the other one."

Robin flinched at the truth in the statement. He had never destroyed the suit after the whole apprentice fiasco. He had spent two weeks studying its schematics in hopes to learn more about Slade's own personal armor design, but after those two weeks, he had found himself unable to part with it. Instead, the boy had boxed it up and stored it away. There were too many memories and mistakes embedded into the cracks of that armor to simply destroy it. In a way, it was forever a part of him now.

Slade picked up a large pair of pliers and began making a few quick alterations to the metal.

"Besides it will only be for one night."

Robin crossed his arms over his chest.

"One night can change a lot."

Slade remained silent at the statement, turned back around and held out the suit, the dull armor like a wall between them.

Robin looked between the man's eye and the haunting metal suit, his mind divided in a silent war. Hesitantly he reached out and touched the cold metal, feeling it glide effortlessly under his hands. He could sense no deceit from the man in front of him, but that didn't mean he still wasn't wary of Slade's intentions. Years of combat had built up layers and layer of distrust that were hard to overcome. Robin paused and looked up into the man's eye.

"One night, and I'll never have to wear it again."

The words were both a statement and a question as they escaped the boy's mouth. Slade nodded, his eye never wavering from the boy.

"I am a man of my word."

The boy inhaled a shuddering breath and took the armor from the man's hands. A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Slade's lips as the boy began mumbling some choice words about this entire situation. The man turned away in silence, not wanting to break the tentative truce between them.

However the comments quickly died off as Robin paused in his inspection of the suit. Something was missing. His eyes flashed to the table and scanned over it, searching. He looked back down and ran his hands over the empty space on the front of the suit…

The space where Slade's emblem was supposed to be.

He looked back at the table and scanned it once more. His eyes blinked as he saw the haunting emblem resting next to the pliers Slade had just used moments before.

Had he…

"Still don't know why he took it off," Robin muttered as he rubbed the empty area on his suit where the metal 'S' normally rested. The armor wasn't as bad as Robin thought it would be. It was simple and light, leaving his movements free and unrestricted. A dull orange color outlined the dark edges of the suit in a similar fashion to Slade's armor which caused the boy to flinch upon closer examination. It unnerved him to be so similar in appearances to the man…

What would the Titans think of him now?

He trailed behind the man, watching his outline shift and twist in the night. The same man who hours ago had revealed a startling fact.

His son was dead.

So many questions plagued Robin's mind, but one pressed through the rest that Robin couldn't seem to get past.

Slade had been a father?

In all his years, he had never considered Slade to be a man, let alone a fatherly figure. Loss was a terrible thing, and it could warp a person into a terrible creature. Had this happened to Slade? Had the loss of his son been the impetus for him to become the assassin and mercenary he was?

Robin shook his head. If so, the two has yet another thing in common…

It was unnerving.

Yet, Slade was so different. He had chosen a life of crime while Robin had chosen to fight for the good in society and to protect and preserve the innocence. But had that only been because of Batman? If Bruce hadn't been there that faithful night, would his shattered heart have resulted to a life of evil? Would he too have fallen from the light?

His eyes watched as Slade paused along the edge of the building. If someone like Bruce had found Slade on the day of his son's death, would the man have fallen into the life he has now? The man was alone, with only a single friend to his name and living a life of crime. As much as Robin wanted to ignore it, the man was a criminal - an assassin. He may no longer be an enemy, but that didn't make him any less dangerous.

The boy paused next to him as a gentle breeze drifted through the air. The night was calm and peaceful, yet it did little to soothe the turmoil rolling inside his mind. The man next to him was still a mystery – a less intimidating and terrifying mystery but still a mystery no less.

He turned his head to face the man, and a black and orange mask greeted his vision.

But perhaps, that's the way Slade wanted it to be.

Robin dropped down, sitting on his heels and shutting his eyes for a brief few seconds, taking a deep breath. It was time. Everything from the past days had led up to this point. He had been on far more dangerous missions before alone and hadn't even batted an eye, but this time, it felt different. He was focused, centered, but nervous. The boy opened his eyes and clenched his fists together. He could do this.

"When we get in there, the timer starts. Every second is valuable. Every move must have a purpose. Now is not the time for mistakes"

Robin looked up and nodded. Slade had been through all of this before they had left the haunt.

The man let out a soft sight, his words softer this time. "It's a different game with the Joker. I need you to trust me, and I need you to follow the orders I give you, understand?"

"Gosh, Slade you sound like Batman now."

"Understand?"

"Now you really sound like Batman…"

"Robin," Slade snapped, a spike of irritation trickling through his voice.

"Yes," the boy quickly blurted out, trying to calm the flow of anger from the man. "I understand."

Slade crouched down so the pair were now small silhouettes on the edge of the building. A calm silence settled between the pair before Slade spoke again.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah. After you injected me with whatever that crazy and probably illegal stuff was."

Robin's hand flickered up to his shoulder and rubbed it where Slade had given him with some sort of healing agent. He hadn't been keen on the whole idea, but after much relentless arguing and a few masked threats, Slade had convinced him it was for the best. A few hours after the injection, he had actually started to feel better. His fever vanished, his aches and pains disappeared, and his black eye completely healed. He still wasn't a hundred percent, but he was certainly improved…and suspicious.

Slade sighed, shaking his head. "A perfectly legal and perfectly safe compound healing agent, Robin."

"The same stuff you used when…" Robin trailed off leaving the sentence unfinished. When I almost died.

Slade nodded, another silence suddenly falling over the pair.

Robin nodded and dropped his head as his hand trailed over a pile of dirt on the concrete roof. So many questions, yet so few answers.

"You're nervous"

The smooth words flowed through the darkness of the night sky and bled into Robin's ears. The boy inhaled a shuddering breath and looked back up at the mask. Slade's gray eye scanned up and down his small figure.

"How can you tell?" Robin asked with a dry chuckle.

A gentle burst of wind twisted between the two figures, bringing a cold chill to the night's air.

Slade shrugged, an action that seemed misplaced on his thick, powerful frame. "I know you better than you think."

Robin rolled his eyes at the statement but let the comment slide. "I just have a lot on my mind, that's all," the boy replied. He looked up, and the two made eye contact. A sudden rush drove through Robin as he stared at the now masked man. The vulnerability he had once witnessed was all but erased. Here was the figure who had haunted his years. Here was the mask who had tormented his dreams. Here was the person he was going to go charging with into the enemy's haunt.

He flinched and dropped his eyes back to the ground, a sudden resurgence of fear running through him. Despite the far strides he had made with the man, a thread of doubt still hung in the boy's mind. What if Slade was lying? What if it was another trick, another ploy? What if this was all another twisted game?

What if this was a trap?

An impulsive need for reassurance ran through the boy as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to believe Slade, he just needed something from the man. Something to give him security. Something to make him know that Slade wasn't lying this time. Something to make him human again.

"What was his name?"

The words were a mere whisper from the Robin's mouth, and the wind quickly engulfed them, washing them away.

Slade's hand tightened around his shoulder as the man grew deathly still. Robin kept his head bent, listening as his heart roared in his ears. He didn't know what to expect from the man and that perhaps was the most terrifying of all. Would he lash out in anger? Would he pretend not to hear the question? Would he ignore it?

But Robin remained silent through his harrowing ordeal, prepared to face the consequences. He needed to know. He needed this thread of trust.

Sometimes the risks were worth taking.

"Grant."

Robin looked up and met Slade's distant, gray eye. It swirled with an unreachable depth, an endless pain that Robin could relate to – loss. Even the greatest fall. Even Slade had his mistakes. No one is left unmarked by the heavy hand of death. The mask couldn't conceal the pain that single word had caused the man, and it couldn't hide the wounds it had left behind.

"His name was Grant."

Slade blinked and the pain was suddenly washed away, the mask of mystery sliding back into place. But it was all Robin needed. Slade Wilson was still there. Even with the black and orange mask on, he was still the same man.

The boy dropped his eyes back to the concrete. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I just-just…um..needed to know…"

He looked up as Slade stared at him. Robin gestured vaguely, heat rising to his face.

"…that you were still you," he finished quietly. "It's just disconcerting…"

Slade paused for a moment, contemplating the statement.

"The mask?" he questioned while rising to his feet.

Robin ducked his head and nodded.

"It's just a piece of metal, Robin," Slade said softly while extending out his hand. The colors were dim in the faint moonlight, but the boy could discern the shape line between orange and black. "It will always just be a piece of metal."

The boy stared at the man before him and gave a slight nod. He accepted the outstretched hand and was quickly hoisted to his feet. Keeping his eyes adverted, he mumbled a quick apology, suddenly feeling quite foolish. Slade was right after all. It was just a piece of metal.

A hand grabbed his chin and raised it up. Slade's gray eye had an unusual light in it as he spoke his next words.

"Don't apologize for a fear you didn't create."

The man squeezed his shoulder one last time before he turned around. Robin remained where he was, watching as the man stepped forward. A moment before Slade was about to jump off the edge, he finally found his voice.

"I can apologize for a weakness though, can't I?"

Slade turned, blurring against the night sky.

"Fear isn't a weakness."

The man effortlessly hoisted himself down the edge of the building and into the alley below. With the cryptic statement hanging in the air, Robin flipped forward and followed suit, catching onto an exposed pipe and swinging himself down.

"Then what is it?" the boy asked, hardly missing a beat as he landed and broke into a jog to catch up to the man.

Slade held up his arm and came to a stop as a thin sliver of the decrepit haunt came into sight. Robin paused beside the man as he looked up and caught the dark, gray eye.

"Fear, Robin," Slade said, his words dark and cold, "Fear is what keeps you human."

This is a waste of time. No one is eve-

The boy's thought was cut off as Slade suddenly came to a haunt. This was the first haunt they had entered and so far they had checked the entire first level without being detected. Slade pressed up against the edge of the wall and motioned for Robin to follow suit. Footsteps echoed down the hall perpendicular to them and quickly grew closer. Robin tensed and closed his eyes, anticipating the confrontation that was surely to follow. He felt Slade's hand on his shoulder, and opened his eyes, quickly recognizing the look in the man's eye.

Stay here.

Robin nodded and Slade turned back, his hand reaching down into his utility belt.

The boy froze as his eyes landed on the object in Slade's hand. His blood had never felt so cold before.

Instinctively, his hand latched onto Slade's wrist, causing the man to whirl around, an incredulous look in his eye. Robin stared at the man, and then his eyes flickered down to the modified hand gun Slade held with an uncomfortable ease. For several seconds neither party moved as the footsteps continued to grow closer.

Robin's mouth grew dry as Slade took a step closer to him and gently pried his fingers off his wrist. The boy's eyes flickered between the gun and the man as his heart thundered in his chest. Batman's no gun policy had been engrained in his brain since the very first day of his training. Yes he knew how to shoot with them, deconstruct them and rebuild them, but he had never killed with them.

Besides, he had a bad history with guns, one he didn't want to repeat. The mere sight of a gun sent shivers down his spine and brought up some memories that had been burned into his mind years ago.

So the sight of Slade with one in his hand, made Robin remember – the man in front of him was a killer. Among all the chaos, it had never crossed his mind that Slade would decide to use a gun now of all times. He knew the man owned guns – a lot of them – but he had never seen Slade use one before.

And he preferred it keep it that way.

The footsteps died away as his heartbeat drowned out all noise in his ears. He looked up into the man's gray eye and mouthed the only word he could think of to make him stop.

Please.

Slade's eye looked down at the gun in his hand and then back into Robin's pleading eyes. The man rolled his gray eye and sighed, putting the gun back into his utility belt. A small smile of relief flicked onto the boy's face and within a flash Slade was gone, rounding the corning like a specter.

Two muffed grunts, followed by a cry of pain echoed down the hall, making Robin flinch from pity. Slade reappeared and motioned for Robin to follow. The boy rounded the corner and examined the three men Slade had knocked unconscious – not kindly he might add. Blood ran down from one of the larger henchmen's nose and onto the ground while the other two looked just as equally injured. All were clearly some of the Joker's goons as two had white and red streaks of clownish paint running down their cheeks and looped around their eyes. Slade was already in the process of tying one of them up, and Robin dropped to the floor, following suit.

"Which door leads to the storage closet?"

A test.

Robin's eyes swept over the doors that lined the hallway and mentally pictured the layout of the haunt in his head.

"Third one to my right."

Slade glanced over towards the door and nodded his approval. They quickly moved all three men into the room, leaving the hallway clear of any signs of their presence. Slade's eye scanned the hallway, tracing every details with his hawk-like vision.

"The clock starts now."

He swiftly began to move down the hallway, moving with a quiet yet uncanny speed. Robin scrambled to catch up with him and trailed behind the masked man.

"Thanks," Robin muttered as he followed the man down the hallway. Slade remained eerily quiet for several moments before he answered.

"Those men should be dead," he responded, keeping his voice low.

"That's where you and I disagree."

"That's where we will always disagree, Robin," Slade retorted without pause.

Another silence enveloped the pair as they continued their trek down the hallway, checking any rooms for signs of Batman, but so far the haunt seemed desolate and deserted. The end of the hallway led to a set of stairs that traveled down to the last lower level of the haunt, a large, storage basement. Robin glanced around and tentatively voiced the thought that had been plaguing him since their arrival.

"Where is everyone?"

Slade shrugged and opened the door to the stairs.

"I've been wondering the same thing."

The man began his trek down the stairs, and Robin followed the winding steps, his eyes taking in the thick layer of rust that had accumulated along the worn metal.

"I don't think Batman's here," the boy said.

"Neither do I, but it's best to be thorough in our search."

Robin grumbled under his breath. What was the point of being thorough when no one was there?

Slade stopped in front of him and whipped around with a fierce look of concentration in his dark, gray eye. He held up his hand as he gazed beyond the boy, contemplating something. He blinked and looked back at the boy, dropping his voice into a barely audible whisper.

"There are men down there. Six at the least."

Robin raised an eyebrow and looked down towards the end of the dark, claustrophobic staircase. The single lightbulb above them flickered once as the boy drew his attention back to Slade.

"How can you tell?" he asked, his voice matching Slade's low whisper.

The gray eye darkened with a chilling yet familiar light, and Robin resisted the urge to flee from the haunt with all his vigor. The man in front of him grew ridged and tense in anticipation and like the curtain drawing on a stage, the flickers of humanity he had seen from the man the past few day slowly trickled away.

Slade cocked his head and turned around.

"Because I can hear them."

Chills raced down Robin's spine as he trailed after the man, his feet ghosting across the steps. Robin could faintly hear talking, but not individual voices. How had Slade been able to assess the amount of people down there let alone hear anything at all?

Slade slowed his pace as the voices grew in volume and the light in the stairway grew stronger. The stairs were parallel to the doorway, giving the pair ample cover from any unwanted eyes. Slade crouched down and peered around the door frame, motioning for Robin to follow suit.

The room was large, yet the low ceilings made the dimly lit space feel like a cave. Large wooden crates blocked a clear view of the space, but Robin could see a group of men in the center of the room. They were gathered around a large rusty table and all had traces of the joker's gruesome face paint.

Robin's eyes continued to move across the room, but there were no signs of Batman. With an internal sigh of disappointment, the boy pulled back and leaned against the wall.

Hideout number one – bust.

Laughter from the men in the room reached his ears, and Robin frowned at the ill timing. A hand on his shoulder brought his attention back to Slade, and the man leaned forward bringing his masked face to Robin's ear.

"Head back up. I'll meet you there."

Robin could barely hear the words over the group's roaring laughter, but raised his eyebrows at the command. Slade gave him a long look and motioned for him to leave. Robin took a step back, but hesitated. What exactly was Slade planning to do?

Slade turned away from him and rolled forward, entering the room and disappearing from sight, but the conversation of the men continued, all unware of a second presence. Robin waited, uncertain.

The voices grew in volume, and the boy shifted his feet, anxious as to what Slade was planning to do. Was he going to shoot all of the men in there or was he merely trying to gain information?

Either way the man probably thought he would only get in the way.

Robin's gaze shifted up towards the top of the staircase, but his eyes kept drawing him back to the doorway. Something – some deeply engrained instinct – kept him from following Slade's simple command. Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't worked with a partner since he had left Batman's side. Perhaps it was the fact that until a few days ago, he would have attacked Slade at first sight. Perhaps his intuition was warning him about something in that room.

Or perhaps he just wasn't someone to follow orders.

Option 1 – actually do what Slade says.

Robin's eyes traced the dimly lit steps leading back up to the hallway. It was a long way back up.

Option 2 – ignore what Slade's says.

The boy turned back to face the doorway.

Slade would kill him.

I need you to follow the orders I give you…

The boy sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, remembering Slade's words. But a small loophole began formulating in his mind. The man didn't say to follow every order he gave, just orders – a vague noun at best. He never actually specified an amount, and the man's statement was more of a suggestion anyway…

Option 3 – follow your instincts.

The boy crouched down and edged closer to the doorway.

There was something in that room.

And he was going to find it.

A/N: I could probably write more with this chapter, but I wanted it up tonight and I have to get up early in the morning! Let me know what you think. I seriously have missed updating this!

SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT!THANKS FOR READING!