Again

Alexnandru Van Gordon

Victor: Hello, people. Alex is gone to the doctor because his knee is swollen (same one he busted last time) and so he pre-wrote the next chapter and gave it to me to type it up for him. If I make a few spelling or grammar mistakes, I'm sorry—and I hope Alex gets back soon. He was in a really bad mood yesterday…

DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Place

He woke with a start, waking from a nightmare...Or was it a nightmare? He dreamed of a life never lived—one where no one died because of him and in which he had friends...four, very odd friends...He suddenly wished he could remember their names. It was somewhat glorious because he was in love with a very beautiful girl, and he fought for righteousness and justice—not death and destruction. Slade was there...but he didn't work for him—he fought him. He fought him with everything he had and his friends were always there to help him out. And he was always called Robin...never "apprentice" or "Slade's kid" like he usually was. His real name was Richard and Slade knew that, but he only ever called him Robin and so his real name faded away. He hadn't been called Richard in...what—three years?

He was still a boy, only ten, but he was hard for his age. Things he could do included torturing someone, surviving training sessions, and killing. Things he 'never' did included crying, speaking out of turn, and disobeying Slade...well, really only when he was watching. Otherwise, he would do whatever he could against Slade's orders without the man seeing. Sometimes he was lucky and slipped away unnoticed while other times he was caught and punished—always wondering what made him do such foolish things in the first place. He didn't like to do the things he did—especially killing and torturing, but that couldn't be helped when Slade watched him and waited to finish the job for him if he hesitated too long. As long as Robin did the deed at least you were guaranteed a quick death—not the long agonizing torment you went through before Slade would allow you to die. The training sessions...they were tough, but it helped him to survive. And the better he did the less Slade tested him.

He hated to admit it sometimes, but he was grateful he was taught to survive, even if it was by someone he hated with all his heart and soul.

He lay back down and rested on his side, facing the far wall. The dream kept coming to his mind and he couldn't help but feel a surge of pain in his heart as he imagined what it would be like if that had really been his life...It was so hard to live now...

One of his friends in his dream was that boy he knew when he was first kidnapped. It had been the green kid who tried to stop him from going with Wintergreen, and Robin still regreted not listening to him. He should have run...But no. Wintergreen warned to shoot higher if he didn't come, and that was why he lost. He loved life and sought to preserve it for others, but Slade was slowly trying to destroy that about him. All the time, he was tested harder and longer to see if he would give in. Half of the state was already Slade's since Slade attacked everywhere just seven month ago, and Robin had been busy spying on anyone Slade wanted him to. He was small and he was a kid—soldiers didn't shoot kids.

The dream again...Slade would go nuts if he found out about it. If he knew Robin had that dream, there would be hell to pay.

He had to talk to someone though...Perhaps doctor Manning. He was always awake late into the night working on one thing or the other. He would talk to Robin—the closest thing he had to a father figure. Though Slade sought to fill that role, John Manning secretly already had. Robin never told anyone of course, and that was for a good reason. He'd really be asking for punishment if Slade heard about that.

But what if that was the way things were supposed to mean. He didn't just dream up of an entire life for no apparent reason. Everything...Mad Mob, the Joker, Two Face, Tony Zucco, Cinderblock, Mumbo, Catwoman, Batman, Alfred, Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, Cybrog—their faces were still so vivid in his mind, friends and foes...It scared him. And he remembered...

What if Slade went back in time to make sure this happened? What if this dream was a warning...

He tossed to the other side and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep again. He welcomed any dream different from the first—even a nightmare looked nice right about now, but his hopes were held too high. There was a beep on his ear communicator and he didn't need to answer to know Slade wanted to see him.

He was again—going from one nightmare to the other.

-LR-

Getting called by Slade was always an unhappy event for Robin, but what was worse was arriving to find that he wasn't in the main room, the lab, or his office which was covered with plans written done on papers scattered all over the floor and table. It either meant that A) He was going to jump out of him and the training would begin; or B) Robin would have to go searching around the building for the man.

Turned out to be the latter of the two. Robin looked high and low all over the building, but he couldn't find a thing. Upon running into Wintergreen—the rightful man of this time—he finally found out was happening.

"The Justice League." The 'still' old man sighed. "He caught one of them. Check in the basement—that's where you'll find Slade."

The basement…Actually, Robin nicknamed it the torture-chamber, along with the people who ever entered it and came out alive. It wasn't guaranteed that you would be perfectly sane or that even all your limbs would be attached, but coming out alive was quite lucky when you though about it. Robin made a silent count of how many people who went in and out—not as a corpse, coming to a round estimate of seven percent. That was one of strong reasons he hated going down there.

No doubt Slade was going to show Robin some fun. He didn't know what it was about the man, but Slade loved watching him kill more the man himself enjoyed murderer. Maybe it was a sign that he had won—but he won two years ago. He was just insane…

Not that Robin would dare say that to his face. That would be disastrous…

Coming to a set of stairs, he strolled down into the darkness with a sigh and came to a hall shrouded in a dark blue haze. It was night outside and the light was from the moon, illuminating Slade's robots posted two to each door along the hall. He came to one of the last ones which was left unguarded, a sure sign that the robots were on the inside.

Placing a small hand on the door, Robin pushed it opened gently and peeked his head inside. Much to his surprise, neither Slade nor his commandoes were in there. But there was a…guest. Robin had never actually met the guy, but by the description in Slade's files, Robin could tell it was the Green Lantern.

Hands tied behind his back, beaten and blindfolded, the JLA member sat on the floor by the wall, back leaning against it for support. His head hung low until he heard Robin, snapping up to see even though he couldn't. There was a scowl on his face and there was no doubt he thought the boy was his tormentor, Deathstroke the Terminator.

"Back so soon?" He snarled. "Do you honestly think you'll get anything out of me?"

"No…actually." Robin said softly and quietly closed the door behind him.

Just a look at GL's expression and he could tell the man was shocked to hear a kid. He even stumbled to find the words to say. "What are you doing here, kid? Do you know where you are?"

"Slade's current lair."

"Then…" Realization slowly dawned on him. "You're that little boy—the one that was reported missing and kidnapped two years ago. Richard Grayson…"

Robin stiffened; frozen from hearing that name…No one had called him that in so long. It actually broke his heart to hear it again.

"That's me…" He admitted solemnly. "But I take no pride out of being the man's apprentice…"

"Then why don't you run?'

"Tried—I'm too small. He's faster, stronger and smarter…I can't compete."

He hated saying that, but it was the truth. He had tried so many times in the past, he had finally lost count. Last he remembered, he tried at least twice every month, but for the last twelve weeks he had been pretty busy. Slade was getting tired of Robin's attempts to escape and kept a closer eye on him.

Which he probably was doing now.

"How'd you get caught?"

GL shook his head slowly, not really wanting to remember the event. "They got me with a knock-out gas and took my ring. What's your story?"

"Parents died, he took me in the crowd—long story after that—here I am today." That sentence didn't make much sense, but he wasn't too keen on remembering it in detail either.

"Since when did I tell you to socialize with the prisoners?"

Robin jumped from pure shock and spun around as he backed away a few steps. The door had opened and Slade stood a few mere feet away from him. "Well?" Slade pressed, never satisfied unless he got an answer, and silence was not an answer…

"Never." Robin answered meekly.

Slade's one eye narrowed, but then it looked on toward the beaten figure by the far wall. "Comfortable—or did I miss something the last time we talked. You didn't have much to say then, but I'm sure I can loosen up your tongue a bit…"

"You're welcome to try." GL spat and refused to speak any further.

Three of Slade's robots entered the holding cell then and made an advance toward the limp figure. Robin knew the man was in for another harsh round, but that he would never see. He was taken by surprise when Slade grabbed him by his arm and directed him hastily toward the door.

"I'm disappointed, Robin." Slade began, walking at a pace almost too fast for Robin to keep up with. His arm was hurting from Slade's iron grip, but he knew better than to protest—that would only make things worse on his behalf; more entertaining for Slade. "I was hoping you would at least shove one of your witty remarks at him. But that little chat was interesting all the same—I really never thought you hated me so badly."

Robin hated it when Slade tried to be harshly sarcastic—it only meant he was angrier than what Robin could usually handle. "Like you never knew…" He muttered. Slade heard anyway and the boy was greeted with a quick backslap across his face before they reached the stairs, followed by a good shake of his arm that almost knocked him off his feet.

"Attitude, Robin—I'll have none of it tonight."

Robin almost actually dared to add another remark, but his instincts told him to reconsider dearly. Did he really want to wake up the next morning after taking a 'lights-out' blow to the head? He only had one of those before, but it was painful enough to remember—a bad reminder if there had ever been one before.

"Well, Robin?"

That's right—not answering was a bad thing.

"Yes, sir…" Robin finally admitted and Slade started back toward the stairs, a little slower now to keep Robin from tripping on the way up. They were treacherous and narrow—something a lot of Slade's prisoners fell down on their way to a 93 chance of death. What fun…

-S-

He was getting tired of the boy's disobedience. He was gradually giving in—a good sign when you looked at it the right way—but it was too slow for Slade's liking. Perhaps that was why when Robin became his apprentice, Slade never sought to find another. Robin was hard when he wanted to be, and brave—oh so brave. It must have taken some guts to say that remark just below the stairs. Robin knew he was in for a beating if he persisted in getting on Slade's bad side.

The small boy almost fell once on the way up, but they managed to get to the main level without him dying. Slade actually had lucky captives who died from a broken neck on those stairs rather through a long process of pain and agony. It spoiled his fun, but he had been busy as of late. He had, after taking one and a third of a year off to give Robin basic training. Wintergreen tutored the child whenever he wasn't asleep or under Slade's watchful eye, but somehow the boy still found the time to make up escape plans. Well, Slade's army was making a considerably large attack on the state, and the only thing that was holding out was a small assembly of JLA potentials to the West. They were looking for children who could be heroes, to train them and keep them aside in case the JLA was ever to be destroyed. It was much like what Slade was doing with Robin—but he'd never let his heir stand aside. The best way to learn was by experience, and what a better place to be in than by the side of his master?

Simply, there was none.

Once on the main floor, Slade waited for the small attack he was sure the little boy was going to dish out. As he predicted, Robin pressed down on Slade's hand and wrenched his arm free, raising his right leg into an upper round-house kick. This was immediately brought to an end when Slade caught the leg and pulled, bringing Robin to land on his back with a painful Oomph! Robin could try as many moves as he liked—Slade taught him them all. And when you considered how small the fiery-spirited boy was, it wasn't that hard for Slade to keep his young apprentice under his thumb. It was entertaining at times.

Slade continued down the hall, this time dragged Robin by his ankle. Surprised and still winded, the boy tried his best to free himself, but was rudely interrupted when Slade quickened his pace and turned the corner at the end of the hall quickly. Robin almost hit the wall, but was shaken all the same and could do nothing to escape as he was dragged the rest of the way down to the main room.

He was in for it now.

Tossing him inside, Slade waited until his apprentice quickly jumped to his feet before locking the door and placing his hands behind his back in the same manner he always did.

"Talking back and attacking me—you must be brave tonight, Robin."

The boy said nothing and only scowled at his master. Slade knew it, he knew it—Robin was in for a beating. A mild one tonight, considering what they would be doing tomorrow, but Slade would make it painful all the same.

Robin needed another reminder of his place…

-V (Victor)-

Hn, things are cooking up and I'm sure my cousin has something big planned—because I know he always cuts to the big plan right away instead of circulating around something for too long. He's still not back from the doctor, but I think I know why—that lady would keep me waiting forever if I busted the same knee three times in a row.

Currently unavailable, the original author,

Alexnandru Van Gordon,

And kind enough to fill in,

Victor Van Heiring