It took longer than Robin expected for the sensors to pick up the fire. He crouched by the bed, shielding the flames as they slowly ate through his sheets. Outside, he heard the Titans speaking softly. They sounded surprisingly calm.

They obviously thought they could keep Slade out.

The lights went red, and Robin straightened as the alarms blared. An instant later, his bedroom door whooshed open—a safety measure, to ensure no one was ever trapped in the Tower in case of fire.

Stuffing the batons in the waistband of his leggings, Robin scooped up his bag and raced out into the hallway. Behind him, there was a hiss as the sprinkler system automatically activated over the source of the fire—in his bedroom.

He heard the Titans' voices before he stepped into the living room. They were raised over the alarm, loud and panicked.

'A fire—'

'—oh crap—'

'—it's in Robin's room!'

That last one was Cyborg. As Robin burst into the living room, Cyborg looked up from the readout on his arm, and stepped back.

Robin dropped his bag.

They were all on the other side of the sofa—Beast Boy, Raven, Cyborg. They hesitated, staring at him like startled deer. Robin slipped a smoke pellet from his glove.

'Robin, man,' Cyborg lowered his arm, 'we don't wanna fight.'

Robin threw the pellet.

It cracked on the floor between Raven and Beast Boy, swallowing them all in black smoke.

Beast Boy flew out first, a sharp-winged green falcon heading for Robin like a torpedo. Robin rolled aside last second, then reached up to snatch Beast Boy's tail feathers. Beast Boy screeched, and with a blur, Robin was holding the tail of a snarling cheetah. He leaped back, avoiding Beast Boy's snapping teeth—

And slammed into Cyborg's broad chest.

Cyborg grabbed for him and Robin dropped to floor. Flipping back, he twisted out of Cyborg's reach, stood up and side-stepped Beast Boy as he pounced, sending him crashing into Cyborg instead.

Raven, I need to take out Raven. She could exorcise him—could hurt him. Teeth gritted, Robin slipped the rope off his shoulder.

She rose out of the smoke, eyes glowing. She spread her arms and if Robin hadn't already believed in demons he'd have started right then. Bathed in scarlet from the alarm lights, wreathed in smoke, eyes sharp and burning, Raven looked straight out of some old painting of Hell. She met his eyes, and it only lasted a breath, but it felt like forever.

With a snarl, Robin threw the rope.

It flew fast and struck, the cords winding tight around Raven's body, pinning her arms to her sides. She dropped to the floor with a yelp.

Something slammed into Robin's back and he fell forward, air bursting from his lungs. He barely managed to roll onto his back, gasping, as green shape reared up in front of him, almost black in the red lights. Beast Boy drew back his mouth to reveal two rows of sharp white teeth, and roared.

Bear.

Robin barely thought the word before Beast Boy slammed down over him, great paws landing either side of Robin's shoulders. Robin snatched the batons from his waistband, and cracked them into the side of Beast Boy's head.

Beast Boy drew back with a grunt, more surprised than hurt—his bear form was tough. So Robin didn't give him a second to recover. He cracked the batons up under Beast Boy's jaw, then kicked his belly.

Rearing back, Beast Boy let out a snarl of pain, which turned into yelping as he transformed into a long-legged, skinny dog. He darted back on fast legs, then whirled into his human form as Robin jumped to his feet.

'Robin—' Beast Boy clutched his stomach, '—stop—'

Robin brought his foot up, and cracked his heel into Beast Boy's temple. Beast Boy slumped.

Robin turned—and was blinded by the blue-white light of Cyborg's cannon. He froze, panting for breath.

Overhead, the blaring alarms went suddenly silent. The red lights faded, and turned white. A cool, robotic female voice spoke over the intercom. 'Fire neutralised.'

Slowly, Robin lifted his gaze to meet Cyborg's, and scowled. 'You're gonna shoot me?'

Cyborg's brow kitted. His shoulders lowered—but he didn't drop the cannon. 'I don't know. Are you gonna make me shoot you?'

They held each other's gaze for another second, and then Robin slowly raised his hands, opening his palms to drop the batons in surrender. The instant that blinding glow dulled from the end of Cyborg's cannon, Robin slapped his palms down on top of it. He shoved Cyborg's arm down, using the purchase to leap into the air and over Cyborg's head.

He landed, twisted, and planted his boot in Cyborg's back. Despite his greater weight, Cyborg was caught off-balance; he stumbled, and then tripped over Beast Boy and went sprawling. Robin snatched up his batons, and jammed one into the back of Cyborg's neck, in the joint above his shoulder blades.

Cyborg yelled out, jerking like a grounded fish. White sparks crackled around his neck. Robin leaped back, and Cyborg dropped.

On the floor, Raven wriggled and struggled against the ropes. Robin stepped around the sofa, and she took a breath, opening her mouth—

Robin swept down, snatched up a corner of Raven's cloak, and stuffed it in her mouth. She let out a choked sound of shock, and then a scream of rage. Robin darted away as black shadows whipped around her—

'That's enough!'

Robin's head snapped up as Raven's shadows faded to nothing. He peered up through the smoke, searching for that voice. The stomach-churningly familiar voice. As the smoke cleared and the wide screen came into view, his heart jerked, as if yanked on an invisible chain.

'Batman?'

No wonder the Titans hadn't sounded worried. It wasn't Slade calling them after all. They were just trying to rope in ally. Robin tensed, cold spreading through his chest. Just another person he couldn't trust.

Bruce stared at him from under the black cowl. By the looks of the cramped, dark background, he was flying in the jet. 'I'd be proud, if you hadn't just done that to your own team mates.'

Robin bared his teeth. 'You have no idea what my own team mates have done.'

'I know exactly what they've done, Robin.' Bruce's voice softened. 'And I'm sorry. They were wrong.'

Robin turned, scooping up his bag. 'You're damn right they were.' His belt and communicator sat on the kitchen table—he buckled the belt at his waist, slipping the communicator on it.

'Robin, wait.' It wasn't an order. Bruce's voice was soft, appealing but weary. The way he spoke to Freeze and Two-Face and Harley Quinn. Hoping they'd listen but knowing they probably wouldn't. Robin scoffed—so what, he was a villain too, now? 'I'm en route to Jump. I'll meet you—'

'By the time you get here, I'll be gone,' Robin snapped. 'I'm gonna catch this killer, and then I'm getting out of here.'

Bruce straightened. 'With Deathstroke?'

Robin's jaw tightened as he pressed the button to open the elevator. 'Don't come after me. I'll call you sometime.' He cast a quick glance over the Titans.

The elevator doors swept open. He hoisted his bag on his shoulder, ignoring Bruce's panicked call—'Robin, wait!'—and stepped inside. The doors closed behind him, and he finally sagged against the wall.

Nearly free. He was so, so nearly free. And soon, he'd be back in Slade's safehouse, under Slade's sheets, under Slade. A warm shiver ran up his spine. Everything was going to change. Everything was going to be better.

The elevator opened at the ground floor, and Robin marched out onto the rocks, taking a deep breath of warm sea air. The tide was low, waves hushing against the island.

'Robin.'

Robin spun on his toes, batons coming up. Then he lowered them, breathing a sigh. 'Slade.'

He stood at the base of the Tower, shaded from the setting sun. Light glinted off the coppery half of his mask, catching on a sharp edge.

'Batman's coming,' Robin said quickly. 'We have to go—Star City, or Blüdhaven—anywhere.' Before Slade could complain, Robin added, 'The killer's following me, right? So we can still catch him. He followed me to Gotham.'

A moment of silence, and cold dread spread through Robin's stomach, because what if Slade refused? What if Slade wanted to stay—wanted to fight Batman? But then—

'Yes, Robin.' Slade stepped forward. 'I did.'

Too late, Robin realised what the light was glinting off—the sharp edge of a crack, splitting Slade's mask in two. A deeper, harder, more painful cold burned over Robin's skin. He knew that voice; too low, too gravelled, like someone trying to sound like Slade.

I should have known this was what you wanted. Slut.

He dropped his stance, ready to charge in and swing upwards. To crack that mask right off the killer's face.

The batons slipped from his fingers.

Robin heard them, distantly, as they hit the rocks at his feet. But his fingers were already numb. He ground his teeth, fighting desperately as his muscles tensed. He couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

But—the antidote—

The killer stepped closer, putting his finger under Robin's chin to tilt his up his head.

They were the same height, Robin realised. The killer only seemed taller because he stood higher on the rocks, staring down at him with one cool blue eye.

Slade's eyes are grey.

Robin's arm trembled as he strained to reach up and knock his hand away. Nothing. He might as well have been locked in a straight-jacket.

'Remind me to thank Raven,' the killer murmured, 'for cleaning that pesky antidote out of your blood.'

Robin's heart seemed to go still, as if the paralysis had clawed in that deep.

It should've cleansed any foreign entity out of your body …

The killer leaned in close. 'Go to sleep, Robin.'

The corners of Robin's vision crackled, and blackened into a tunnel that slowly closed around that single blue eye.