Ok… I have had this chapter written for SUCH a long time. This is one of the scenes I have had written since the beginning. I hope that you guys enjoy it, even if it is a little cheeseball-ish.

Slade had sent him off with a fresh bruise on his face. He had been pushing the man's buttons in the last few weeks as he struggled with his identity crisis. He smirked to himself as the thought came to him. He knew he probably looked insane. He just couldn't help it. Between what Wintergreen had told him, his own conflicting feelings, his talks with the Titans, and Slade's hot and cold treatment of him, he wasn't sure where he stood right now. All he knew was that Slade wasn't too happy with him, as the darkening spot on his right cheek showed, and that he was constantly on thin ice.

He thought it would be a hit mission, just like the others. Every other time, it had been the same routine. Go in, protest until Slade did the job instead of him, and then go back, and await the inevitable scolding. Slade didn't trust him on his own with contracts, because they both knew he would refuse to do it. This time he was on his own, awaiting instruction from Slade through his comlink. Slade had promised him that this gig was different than the others, that he wasn't going to touch anyone. That was a small comfort at least. Perhaps this was a warning mission, an "intimidate into submission" type of thing.

The first difference he noticed was the noise. Usually when they went on Slade's mercenary jobs, it was late at night, dark and quiet. It was usually some poor solitary soul who had made the wrong person angry. Not this time. It was broad daylight. There were excited shouts and cheers, children running around. Now he understood Slade's demand for civilian attire. Then he saw the tent looming in the distance, but he paid it no mind. He had found that when on missions for Slade, to keep himself from doing something stupid, it was best to think of other things, staying alert but not taking time to think about what he was doing.

He wasn't aware he had stopped walking until Slade said lowly in his ear, "Keep moving, apprentice. We have a schedule to keep." He forced his feet to shuffle forward, following Slade's instructions in a daze until he found himself high in the support structures of the tent, gazing down at the center. He was so high up, hidden in shadow that no one noticed his presence. Good thing he wasn't afraid of heights.

"I'm here," Dick said, awaiting his next instruction.

"Very good," Slade said quietly through the comlink. "There are two wires bolted to the support beam to your right." Dick confirmed that he saw them. "Loosen them."

Mechanically, without thought, Dick did as he was told. He informed Slade he was finished and Slade replied with, "Mission accomplished. Get down. Stay out of sight."

As Dick began his journey into the crowd to blend in until Slade told him to return, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end. As he found a seat and sat down, the apprehension grew. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was just being at a circus again. At… a circus. He hadn't even noticed. He had been antsy about them since his parents had fallen that night that Zucco had…

Oh my God.

As he looked down at the small metal circles in his palm, he found himself trembling. He had rigged these enough times, both at Pop Haley's and at the gym in the Manor to know exactly what he was holding, what was about to happen. This was why he had become Robin. This was everything he had sworn to prevent, everything he was against. He couldn't let this happen.

Dick felt sick. The lights began to change as the show began, the ringmaster stepping forward to introduce the first act: the trapeze artists.

"No," he whispered in horror, unaware that he had spoken at all.

"Apprentice…" Slade asked questioningly. Dick ignored him.

"No," he said louder. He rose and began making his way to the ring, scrambling over various audience members as quickly as he could, to their angry protests.

"Apprentice, what do you think you are doing?" Slade hissed. Dick continued to ignore the voice in his ear as he made it to the ring. "Apprentice!" Slade roared. Dick forced himself forward. "Apprentice if you take one more step, you will not like the consequences, I promise you that!" He didn't even hesitate. He couldn't. Not with something like this. There was no time. The Titans would understand... they'd have to. The ringmaster and the audience were beyond confused now, shots of confusion and various hisses and boos echoing through the fog in his mind as he walked to the ringmaster's side. He had to fix it, had to make them see. He could not, would not let this happen to someone else.

"Apprentice!" Slade yelled, even as Dick reached into his pocket, and dropped its contents into the ringmaster's hand before turning on his heel and sprinting away.

In the confusion that followed, he escaped easily. The show halted before it even began as the ringmaster opened his hand in confusion to see the nuts and bolts that had secured the trapeze.


His hand met with the boy's face with an astounding crack. "What the hell," he began, lifting the brat from the floor by his collar, "do you think you were doing?"

The boy had been testing his limits for weeks, and his patience had grown thin. No more. The boy would learn to do as he was told.

Wintergreen entered the room with the Titans in tow, a guard of Sladebots around the teens. Wintergreen shot him a disapproving look, even as the boy caught his breath and responded.

"I was doing the right thing." Slade backhanded the boy again, releasing his collar and letting him fall to the ground with a soft grunt. The Tamaraenean gasped, but the goth grabbed her arm. Wise… the boy was in enough trouble without his little friends interfering.

"The right thing?" Slade questioned, circling the prone boy. The teen knew better than to rise. He stayed kneeling as Slade continued, "You don't decide what the right thing is, Dick. You do as you are told and—"

"My name is Robin," the boy murmured from the ground. Slade wheeled around, grabbing the boy roughly by the face.

"Excuse me?"

"I said—"

"He said his name is Robin," the Tamaraenean cried out, clearly both afraid and elated for her friend in this moment.

"Well then, Robin," Slade hissed, grabbing a handful of the teen's hair and pulling him to his feet. The boy's hands grasped for purchase, finding none. Slade pulled back and then thrust him forward, releasing his hair and sending him flying towards the other teens. "As leader of this motley crew, why don't you tell me which one I should sell for this little hero act of yours?"

That got the boy's attention. He looked both shocked and resigned. He knew there was no way out of this. His eyes darted between the Titans, still surrounded by Sladebots and powerless, Wintergreen, standing to the side, looking more disgruntled by the minute, and Slade.

"I… please, Slade, you told me I wouldn't have to kill anyone! Don't make me—"

"It's far too late for that, Robin." He spat the title at the boy. If that was what he wanted to be called, fair enough. Let him know, let him learn that his hero complex was causing all of this to happen. "You knew exactly what you where doing, you knew you were defying me, and you knew what the consequences would be. Ignoring the fact that you disobeyed an order, you were in civilian clothes! What if someone had recognized you, boy?" The boy stared at him. "Make your choice."

"I—I can't…" He was cut off as Slade came up behind him and grabbed his wrist, forcing it up between his shoulder blades and twisting.

"Pick one, or I'll break your arm," Slade hissed. He applied a bit more pressure, and the boy let out a strained whimper.

Slade felt a hand on his, pulling his grip off of the boy's wrist.

"Stop this," Wintergreen said, as Slade released his grip and the boy stumbled a few steps away, clutching his wrist, and shooting the Titans a look.

"Do not interfere, Will," Slade bit out.

"No, Slade. Not like this." Their eyes met and Slade began to shake in fury. He pulled his fist back, intent on showing everyone present who was in control here, in control of all of them. His fist met flesh, but it was not Wintergreen that he had struck.

The boy met the ground with a dull thump. It had been a hard hit, but his shoulder had caught the brunt of it. Slade's fury grew.

"You won't choose, fine. Bring the Tameraenean." The Sladebots marched her forward, even as she struggled and the boy protested. Without her alien strength, she was useless. "Get her out of here. Wintergreen, step aside."

Wintergreen turned his eyes to the boy, who gave him a small nod before setting his features and turning to face Slade. As Starfire was led away, the remaining two Titans called protests, both at this new development and at the treatment of their friend. Wintergreen must have realized that there was nothing he could do at present, and he did as he was told.

Meanwhile, Slade snapped his fingers and another Sladebot stepped forward. The boy's eyes widened and he took an involuntary step backward, shaking his head slightly.

Slade took the whip, stepping towards the boy and reaching for his utility belt. The boy flinched as Slade's hand moved to his face.

"You want to be a hero," Slade hissed, "so be it. Let Robin suffer the consequences." The mask hid the boy's eyes, but Slade could read the boy like an open book. He felt the terror running through the boy in waves as he placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him to the ground, raising the whip high above his head before letting it fall, the boy's cry of pain drowning out the Titans protests.

Wintergreen left the room. Slade hardly noticed.


In the same way Robin had been lost, he was found again. Each stroke drove the point home: he had saved lives today. The rush of adrenaline he felt from that simple act pulsed stronger in his veins than any of the missions he had gone on with Slade. It was his will, his duty, to save people, not to harm them. To give, not to take. And as Slade continued beating him with brutal force, through the pain and his own shouts of agony, he felt more joy than he had in months. Robin was back.