Ugh. I'm so beat, partly because I've been staying up way too late for my own good, and partly because Alexnandru has been chucking rocks at my head, LOL. Well, more Robin angst, to make you all happy and whatnot…geez, I'm really tired…anyway, hurrah for all those that reviewed, and a an extra kudos to Insanity 101—for her famous reviews that are so awesome to receive—, Kazzy103—who is so nice when she responds to my chapters, and has such interesting things to point out and say—, and last but definitely not least, Pirategirl89—who makes me laugh really hard and did the unthinkable by putting me in a tutu (Err, don't ask). So, another chapter: I'm actually kinda excited, because the review toll is nearing 200! (It's a new record for me, that's all). Enjoy the newest update!

Chapter Twenty Two: To Be Alone

'Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and Hell is only a poor synonym…' –'Salem's Lot, by Stephen King

Robin-

Static. Blissful noise in his ear that killed the unmerciful silence waiting to drown him. Vapor passed from between his lips, drifting up into the frigid air like a ghost before melting into the darkness; it was a whole other world underground, a lair of haunted quiet that stank of death and decay. A place where evil spawned and festered in the shadows like a disease, until its greedy eyes turned to the illuminated cities above, and groping fingers reached out to claim what they could.

A place that he would have to accept as his new home, no matter much he loathed it.

Welcome to the end.

He swore…he promised himself that this would never happen again, that Slade would never get another chance to hold him so helpless, so isolated and severed from the rest of the world. He could deal with pain; he'd grown up with it, ever since he promised he'd be a hero. It hurts, but in the end, it's just an empty emotion, a fake and cheap excuse for feeling.

But this…the resignation, the absolution that you can't escape was cold and unbearable—it weakened him more than any injury he had ever sustained from a criminal.

Fingers trailed upward to his scalp, and Robin brushed hair out of his face, wincing as he accidentally touched the new, purple bruise that had blossomed right above his right eye; a "gift" from Slade—that's what he got for shooting his mouth off, though.

"Your plan won't work forever," Robin said defiantly, even as he strapped on the armor that accompanied his suit. Slade, who had been watching, seemed to smile; it made Robin want to attack him, but he waited…maybe later, when a better opportunity presented itself.

"No?"

"The Titans may be weak now, but you can't keep injuring them over and over again. The hospital will catch on, and eventually they'll heal." A confident smirk had grown across Robin's face as he spoke, and he continued to press his point.

"And when they do, they'll find you, no matter what."

Slade said nothing, but he still seemed unconcerned about this new information; it gave the teen the uneasy feeling that the man had already considered this possibility and found a solution to prevent it from ever occurring.

Robin didn't let a single emotion slip across his face—he refused to give Slade any sign that he might have the advantage—and, turning his head away so that he could slip on his new mask—murmured very softly:

"And there's always Batman…"

Slade laughed just as quietly, and crossed over to his apprentice, as if to observe him better.

"Your father can't save you now, Robin, no matter how hopeful you feel. You will realize this soon enough…" The man turned his back on the boy and began to stride away, saying smugly:

"He doesn't care about you, anyway. He won't bother to rescue you, if he ever finds you."

Robin felt as though he'd been struck, and before he could stop himself, he snarled back:

"Yeah—you'd know the feeling, wouldn't you, since that's how you feel about Rose, isn't it? You didn't want her, you were just bored and needed something to do with her mother—"

Slade froze, and Robin should have known to stop while he still could, but the words came pouring out of his mouth in a torrent of anger.

"—Because if you did care about her, you wouldn't have just dumped her on somebody else, and walked right out of her life!"

Before he knew it, a heavy blow knocked into his head, sending him skidding backwards on the floor. Slade stood over him, gray eye narrowed to a slit, and he hurled down the metal 'S,' that Robin had removed from his utility belt—the symbol's razor end planted itself barely inches from the Boy Wonder's hand, the point burrowing into the ground with an ominous thud.

"The next time you talk out of turn," the masked man whispered in a eerily calm tone, sliding the trigger he used to order his drones into his hand for emphasis. "I will make you press the trigger, and you will watch the Titans murdered, one by one…"

The mark wasn't too big; about the size of one of Slade's knuckles…it was nothing his mask couldn't hide…

After all, that's what masks were designed for: to conceal, to hide away the scars of the past, and the terrible bruises that throbbed with each memory. They were facades, for heroes like him and Bruce…something that made them both "more than human."

And without them…

He was nothing. There was no place in this world for someone as pathetic and broken as Richard Grayson—that was what he believed. "Robin" was someone!

Or he used to be…the boy knew that Slade would not rest, until he had purged every happy memory of Robin's former life…until he had molded him into an exact replica of himself…

Until the teenager's resistance crumbled beneath Slade, and allowed the evil to flood into his soul. Even if he hated himself for the rest of his life for doing it.

Alfred-

The boy's eyes were foggy, and when he looked at him, it felt as if he did not know Alfred were there. Still, he was the only one of the Titans that was strong enough to talk for awhile, without collapsing in effort. And Alfred needed to speak with someone badly—the mansion felt gigantic, and he didn't like to be alone.

Clearing his throat, the British man smiled kindly at the young man in the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

Beast Boy returned the grin, though it gave way to a grimace.

"Hey…you're Alfred, right? Batman's butler dude?"

The "butler dude" gave a small laugh.

"Yes, that's right. But, are you all right?"

Beast Boy glanced exhaustedly at his body, nearly swallowed up by what was practically a body cast.

"No…no, not really."

Both of them paused, searching their minds for what they could say next. Then:

"Where's Robin and Raven?"

Alfred stared at his shoes.

"Raven…she was attacked for some reason by some ghastly—"

"The fire guy…" Beast Boy muttered furiously. He tried to sit up, but winced again and lay still. "Is she all right?"

Alfred shrugged sadly.

"Oh…and Robin?"

The butler shrugged again, and Beast Boy looked surprised.

"You don't know? But, I thought—isn't he back at the big mansion? But…Batman? Is he with Batman?"

Alfred sighed unhappily, as if he seriously regretted being kept in the dark about the two's whereabouts.

"All I know is that when the waves hit Jump City—"

"Waves? What waves!"

The British man was beginning to wonder if having this conversation was a bad idea.

"The city was hit with waves; now, Master D—err, Robin, was headed over in that direction, and Master Bruce wanted to find out if he was still alive…so…"

The changeling appeared to be thinking hard, and after a moment or two, he asked quietly:

"Has there been anything from Slade?"

"S—who? That man who has—?"

"Yeah, yeah, that guy. Anything from him lately?"

The butler tried to remember…the waves might have "Slade's" doing, but other than that, no events had taken place that indicated he had any hand in it…

"No. No, I don't believe so…"

Beast Boy shook his head grimly.

"Can't find Robin, haven't heard from Slade…this is bad."

Alfred blinked, taken aback.

"Bad? How is it—?"

"Listen to me," Beast Boy insisted, cutting the other man off. "You've gotta contact Batman however you can. Tell him to look in the sewers, to check any places that look dark and creepy where no one would be hanging around. Trust me, dude…you've gotta find him…"

The changeling's emerald eyes closed, and a nurse came to hustle Alfred away. The old man, though extremely puzzled by what the teenager had to say, drew a few quarters out of his pocket and headed for a pay phone.

The least he could do is mention it…

Slade-

The boy hadn't said a word since Slade had knocked him in the head for talking about Rose; instead he simply stood off to the side by the man's desk, staring off into space. He seemed to be listening to the crackling of the ear pieces that Slade used to communicate with him on "missions." Most likely, he was trying to ignore the fact that he was trapped…or maybe he had already realized this, and was trying to look for some way out, a chance that someone could save him…

But Slade wasn't going to let that happen; he wouldn't let Robin slip through his fingers once again—if it was the last thing he did, he'd make sure the teen would never be rescued, whether he had to keep finding new blackmail, or beat his apprentice so badly that he couldn't run (or even stand, for that matter)…or even…

The masked man smiled thinly and turned to his prisoner.

"Apprentice."

Robin jerked slightly, as if he were waking from a trance, before he snapped his head around to glare at his "master." His gaze, however, quickly dropped to what Slade held in his hand.

"What—?

Slade tossed the gun idly at the boy, who caught it clumsily, before examining the weapon nervously.

"Have you ever fired a gun before, Robin?"

The teen slowly, ever so slowly, shook his head from side to side.

"I didn't think so…Batman never made you his equal…never thought you were worthy enough to handle something that could actually kill another person…"

"Heroes don't kill," the boy said firmly, but Slade heard the catch of fear in the younger man's voice.

"You're no hero, Robin."

His apprentice looked as if he were biting back another retort, but obviously the memory of what happened when he mentioned Rose was stronger than his desire to rant. Satisfied, Slade turned towards one of the screens on the wall of his lair, and as he pushed a button on a small remote, blueprints of a building in Gotham popped up.

"Feel like letting out a little energy?" Slade asked in a mockingly polite tone; Robin narrowed his eyes—he knew he didn't have a choice either way.

Robin-

He had never truly expressed his opinion on stealing. As a Titan, crime was crime: there was only right and wrong, black and white. But…the first time that Slade had captured him, Robin had been forced to see a situation as a thief, one of the people that he strove to put in prison.

The unfortunate thing was that he had recognized the exact emotions that would cause a person to continue to thieve; the very sensation in your stomach, as you crept into a locked building, the savage glee as you incapacitated and outwitted the guards…the rush of adrenaline that coursed to your brain as you made off with whatever prize you had set your sights on. The combined effect was just as addicting as any drug out there. It was horrible…and yet incredibly exhilarating.

It took him some time to get to Gotham—it wasn't just the distance, but there were police everywhere in Jump, with search lights, helicopters—the works—as they sought survivors; there were times as well where Robin, for a brief moment, believed that had seen a bat like shadow rush between lights, though he supposed it was caused by the guilt that he felt at having to steal again and secretly looking forward to it…

Then there was the place itself: Slade had picked one of the highly guarded chemical plants on the edge of Gotham City. Dangerous products were sent there—so, of course, the criminal was intrigued. Despite the thrill that the steadily taking power over each of his movements, Robin still felt sick to his stomach as he wondered whether or not he might help Slade bring about the destruction of another city…and the deaths of more innocent people…

The security was nearly impossible, with guards swarming like ants to one place at the slightest sign of trouble. Robin, noticing this, used it to his advantage and set off a smoke bomb at one end of the plant. Nearly all the guards trooped off to see what had happened, and the teen, with a few well placed back kicks to the face, he was able to snatch up a few tiny samples of some chemicals that had been discontinued. There was only one thing that unnerved him: one of the vials carried a formula similar to the hallucinogenic dust that Slade had used on Robin once.

In and out. It was as simple as that…and he hadn't been forced to use the gun…

Yet.

Bruce-

"I checked the sewers; there was an old lair there, like the green kid said, but other than that, I've found absolutely nothing."

"Really?" Alfred asked, sounding disconcerted. "Have you tried any other places?"

"Everywhere that has a description that compares to the kid's description."

"Damn," his friend cursed, and Bruce was rather amused, if not surprised. Alfred didn't approve of swearing.

"Anyway," the Dark Knight continued, staring down from his perch atop a ruined skyscraper. "Does Beast Boy have anything else to say?"

"No, he's been sleeping for awhile. I haven't woken him up; besides, he's still very weak."

"Yeah, I know…"

"Is it still raining over there?" Alfred questioned, and he made the transformation from fellow crime fighter (in a sense) to grandfather in an instant.

"Uh—huh. Why?"

"I don't want you getting ill."

Bruce let out a laugh—he couldn't help it.

"I'm fine! Honestly! Besides," He added, a serious look coming back over his face. "I'm not the one you should be worried about. Richard's missing, for crying out loud."

"Yes…I know…Are you—"

But Bruce didn't hear the rest of Alfred's sentence. His keen eyes had caught hold of a small, shadowy figure as it crept across rooftops, making its way off to some unknown destination.

"I have to go," Batman said briefly. Not waiting to hear Alfred's goodbye, he snapped the cell phone shut, and tucked it into his utility belt before starting off towards what might be a lead to his son.

He followed the sneaking shape for what seemed like an hour; he didn't get a chance to trap them at all, for they hardly stopped long enough for him to get a good shot with one of his batarangs. And then, as he glided over one last structure, the mysterious person stood up straight, as if trying to decide which way to go—was he lost?

Well, whatever was the matter, Bruce refused to let his chance go, and hurled a batarang at the shadow's leg to keep him from running.

But—

At what seemed like the very last minute, the figure turned sharply and caught the weapon with ease, as if they had practice with objects like these. And it was then that a small ray of light pierced through the dark clouds, shining down on the Dark Knight's target.

What the hell…?

Robin-

Bruce? What was he doing here?

This isn't good, this isn't good—

Meanwhile, his father was staring at him in complete shock, and his eyes, behind the cowl slowly took in the uniform that Robin was wearing.

"Robin! You're all right—what are you wearing? And…?"
The teen opened his mouth to answer…and his ear pieces crackled, signaling that Slade was about to give him new orders.

"Don't. Say. A. Word."

The boy closed his mouth and took a step backwards, preparing to dive off the side, in hopes that Bruce wouldn't have the chance to pursue him.

"Remember the gun I gave you?"

Robin's heartbeat picked up, thudding in his chest like a drum.

Oh God. Oh god, no…

"Shoot him."

To be Continued…

Duh, duh, duh! Crap, the next chapter is going to be really bad! Anyway, sorry if this sucked at all, but I did mention how tired I was at the very beginning…(Rubs eyes and yawns widely) Anyway, have a nice day—or night, it depends on when you're reading this—and I'll see you soon.

Later:

Rebel-Aquarius