Disclaimer: I own nothing. And I mean nothing. I don't even own my spleen, OK?

This is the first TT thing I've actually put up, so I may not have gotten the characterization down yet. Be nice. The beginning may be a bit slow but things actually start happening. YAY! I'm so glad my computer is fixed!

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It had never been this dark. At least he couldn't recall it ever being this dark. Not before. He could remember the last time he saw this place. And now, though it had only been a few months, the tower already looked as though no one had properly cared for it in years. The windows were broken and a terrible foreboding mood seemed to radiate off of the tall building, the giant T a stark slash on the cloudy sky. He really wished there were a few stars out tonight. What he wouldn't give to have a few stars just one last time.

He realized he had entered the tower still deep in his thoughts. The only thing that wasn't any different was the fact that his movement in his home was almost robotic. He had been through the place so many times. But everything else had changed. He glanced around the living room. A thin film of dust lay over everything. There was a comic book lying facedown on the sofa. Curse Beast Boy and his inability to put away the stupid comic book when he left the room. At any other time it would have annoyed Robin, but not now. Not under these circumstances. He found it almost amusing.

Robin traveled across the room and down the hall, walking blindly so encased in his thoughts that he didn't even realize there was a door before him. He shoved it open and entered the room, looking around.

"Raven," he muttered under his breath as he stared at his surroundings. Raven's room still had her feeling of deep gloom and for once he relished this. At times her general apathy to nearly everything got irritating, but if he were dealing with it now, he would merely laugh it off. It wouldn't bother him now. In fact thinking back on it, it seemed almost endearing.

Robin couldn't stand the memories anymore. He turned around and walked, reaching the living room again. He say down on the couch, knocking a video game controller onto the floor. He stared at the lump of gray plastic lying on the floor. The other controller was on his other side. The controllers were still out from the last time Cyborg had challenged Beast Boy to a game. Robin couldn't remember exactly, but he guessed that at some point during the game they had gotten into an argument like they always did. It got really annoying, but now he almost longed for it. He could imagine the scene now. Beast Boy and Cyborg would he sitting on the couch locked in a deep competitive battle on the tv screen, at the same time having an argument. Raven would be off to the side somewhere, absorbed deeply in a book, but looking up every once in a while to give them an irritated look. Star would be attempting to calm the argument but being ignored, and Robin would be...Robin would be off in his room obsessing over Slade's identity. And now he regretted spending so much time worrying about things like that when he could have been with his friends, something he deeply yearned for now.

He missed them all. Cyborg, Raven, Beast Boy, Starfire...gawd he missed her especially. Despite the fact that she was constantly questioning the way things were done on earth, he couldn't deny the fact that he had been crazy about her. He had missed window of opportunity time and time again to express it, and now it was too late. He hated himself for never saying anything. But as angry with himself as he was, he couldn't deny the fact that it wasn't his fault. It was Slade's. It's was Slade's fault he had never gotten another opportunity to tell her.

Robin slammed open his bedroom door, stomping into the room. He stared at the walls, covered in newspaper clippings about Slade. About his crimes. About the Titans' near misses at capturing him. Robin was a teen obsessed, never a good thing. He stared at one particular clipping bearing Slade's picture, staring for a few minutes until his face snapped into a glare.

"Damn you Slade!"

It was Slade's fault. And it was partially Robin's fault also. He had been unprepared. He had attempted to convince himself that Slade was never coming back, and nearly done it. So he had been totally unprepared when Slade struck out of the blue, destroying half the city and four of the Teen Titans. Each one of them he had killed individually, to give himself the pleasure of watching them die one at a time. Robin's death had come last, probably so Slade could bask in the satisfaction of knowing that his most determined foe was finally out of the picture. But Slade had made the mistake of leaving Robin severely wounded, but still alive. Perhaps he was getting sloppy, or perhaps he wanted to give himself the amusement of watching Robin's reaction when he realized that his friends were dead and there was nothing he could do about. That mistake had cost Slade his life. And now Slade was dead, Robin knew. He had personally ripped every inch of flesh from Slade's body after killing him. It had been extremely unrewarding that Slade had turned out to be one of the workers that the post office, but nevertheless he was dead. But that wouldn't bring the rest of the titans back.

Robin grabbed the clipping from the wall and frantically tore it into pieces, letting the shreds of paper flutter to the floor before grabbing another and throwing it down, becoming hysterical as he did it again and again.

He sank to his knees on the floor, frantic and panting with rage. He clenched his teeth as tightly as they would go, starting to shake.

"Fuck you Slade! It's your fault! It's all your fault!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. For so long, Slade had controlled him. He manipulated him by threatening his friends, and even when he didn't have direct control over Robin he still governed his actions because he was always a slave to discovering Slade's identity. And he was starting to realize that when Slade had no control over him, Robin didn't even have control over himself. It scared him. It scared him into doing the thing he had come here to do.

A few weeks before the other titans had been killed, Robin had attached a bar to his wall that he liked to use for doing pull-ups. He walked over to it. It was a bit above his level, so he had to jump a bit to grab it when he used it. He pushed a chair underneath the bar and stood on it. Taking something out of his pocket and tying it firmly to the bar. He looked around the room. He had always assumed he had pretty good control over his mind and actions, but it seemed now that there was no reason. He had reached the inevitable point in his life where it is impossible to continue, and there is no point in living.

"I can't do this anymore you guys. I'm sorry," Robin muttered, though he knew his friends couldn't hear. "But like you said Raven, it's just...pointless."

Robin slipped his head through the noose and kicked the chair out from beneath him.

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Yeah, I'm aware that Robin killing himself just doesn't seem in-character or plausible, but it is after all my story. I've been itching to write this for a long time for some reason. Reviews are much appreciated!