I'm sorry I took so long to update, but…my grandmother has just passed away, and it has been really rough at the moment… as you can probably imagine, I just haven't been in the mood for writing, but then I remembered that I left you guys hanging, so…here you go.
Chapter Twenty Three: Of Life And Death
Robin-
No child should ever have to fulfill every day of their life by waking up in the morning, only to know that your mother and father aren't there—that they were murdered before your very eyes, and you could barely understand the reasons why they had been killed, or just how cold human beings could be to kill two people whom they were never wronged by. It's a difficult and vast concept that even the wisest of adults can merely begin to fathom…and it isn't any surprise that at eight years old, you wouldn't spend the following days wondering about the complicated details of death.
All you would be able to do is cry…to sob and let the bitter tears fall while an empty sort of sensation settles into your heart and stomach, until you grow so weary with the weight of the events that you collapse into restless, miserable slumber…yet at the moment you open your eyes the next day, all the anguish comes flowing back, and there's nothing to do to stop it. From the second that Tony Zucco had sent his parents plummeting to their end, Robin had mourned for their loss; every night—so it seemed—he awoke to feel sweat coating his forehead as he left behind terrible nightmares where he stood helpless, watching the two of them die again and again while his heart broke inside his chest, and rivers of blood trickled through the dust below…
His mom and dad's demise had broken him in mind, body, and soul—for such a powerful emotion like grief will bruise and injure in ways that physical abuse could not hope to achieve…maybe that was why he was starting to lose his fear of Slade; the man could beat him hopelessly to no end, and he would never truly crush him compared to what Robin had to endure at such a young age.
He might have sunk into such an inescapable pit of regret and sorrow, had it not been for Bruce…though Robin couldn't have known it at the time, it was most likely the best day of his life when he arrived at Wayne Manor to stay for good as Bruce's own son. All in all, Robin owed a lot to Batman…he would not be the person he was today without the Dark Knight's help.
Not that you like who you are at the moment, anyway, a silent voice jeered at him, and the Boy Wonder could almost see a wraith of himself in his mind's eye, its upper lip curling in disdain.
It was true: At the moment, he would give or do anything to be somebody else…some normal, average person who was always relying on heroes to save the day, completely oblivious to the level of torment the supposedly perfect "defenders of mankind," had to cope with, the kind of person who, in their entire life, was blessed enough that they wouldn't have to experience the horrid feeling of hope crumbling to pieces in their hands, withering away like dust in the wind.
But at the same time, in the exact same moment, Robin was seeing one of the world's greatest mysteries—the purpose for living and dying—through a new pair of eyes, ones whose vision was not corrupted or hindered by a mask. And instead of holding the last remnants of hope in his hands, he carried the fate of another man's entire existence—all of which could be ended by him simply pulling the trigger.
You can't kill him.
"You can save your friends and kill Batman…or you can spare his life, and listen to the Titans scream and know that you failed to save them too…" Slade hissed venomously in his ears. "Make your choice now."
No child should ever have to greet each dawn, overcome with the awful resignation of being alone…but they shouldn't have to be given a twisted ultimatum either—facing the murder of their closest friends, or the man who felt as if he was the only other person in the world that honestly cared, and knew precisely what Robin was going through during a difficult time in his life.
How do you make a decision like that? And how can another human ever expect you to choose?
Except that Slade's not humane, in any possible way. If there's anybody who deserves to die, it's him.
It was this sudden idea that caused his hand—which, being the one holding the gun, had been quite steady while Robin had been inwardly struggling—dropped a few inches from where it was aimed at Bruce's chest.
"Did you hear me, Robin!" His "master" demanded, and the boy heard, with more than a hint of satisfaction, the fury in the man's voice at being disregarded.
I heard you, all right. But I'm not going to listen. Not anymore.
"Robin…"
The sound of his name made him blink, and he fixed his eyes back on his father before him. Batman hadn't appeared to have moved ever since Robin had revealed the firearm he carried, but his gaze was locked on the newly declared thief before him…he didn't think that he was actually going to shoot him, did he? A small stab of guilt shot through Robin, though he did whatever he could to keep his mind focused on a tiny—and desperate—plan that was forming in his head.
"…You don't want to do this."
Of course I don't. And I won't—please trust me, Bruce…trust me…
Robin rather envied Raven at that moment, for her ability to communicate telepathically with her friends. If only he had the chance to explain everything to Bruce without Slade knowing, to fill him in on his ideas for escape. But for the moment, all he could do was pray that someone up there still liked him enough to assist him now.
"I told you to shoot him, didn't I?" Slade suddenly snapped, angered. "It's your friends or your father—now choose!"
"Just put it down, Robin," Bruce said rather calmly for someone who had a gun pointed at their head. "Believe me, you don't want to do this…"
I know.
"You don't have to kill me…you have always have a choice…please don't do this to yourself."
"Do it NOW!"
I will not be a killer.
"Hi, Bats," Robin said, keeping his voice controlled, despite its urge to crack under the stress of the situation. So close…
"We really have to stop bumping into each other by surprise."
BANG!
Slade-
The man watched the screen impassively as the bullet intended for the Dark Knight shot straight up into the stormy skies; below, Robin took no time in swiftly retrieving a handful of smoke bombs from his belt and throwing them at the ground, while the "Caped Crusader" hurled what looked like some sort of device to stop the boy—too late. The young man's body disappeared, swallowed up behind the makeshift screen.
Slade could hear Batman stumbling around, cursing and yelling the boy's name. And Robin thought that this pathetic hero knew him. If the Bat stopped to think about it, he'd realize that his son was already long gone, headed back for the lair to have a "talk" about their deal.
Fine.
"I warned you, Robin," Slade murmured to himself, pressing the trigger's button before throwing it carelessly on his desk; when his apprentice returned, he'd be under the impression that he had succeeded with this useless plot of his. The Titans were taken care of, and it would only be a matter of time before the boy encountered his father again, and Slade would make sure that when that moment came around, Batman would—
He froze, however, when he felt the tip of a gun pressed to the back of his head.
You're too late, my boy.
Alfred-
It was bad enough being pretty much trapped in Gotham without a scrap of information for him to mull over with a cup of tea; of course, now that Bruce had hung up on him and he was now listening fruitlessly to a dial tone, Alfred had decided that he'd just about had enough.
He was getting to Jump City somehow, whether Bruce liked it or not, and anyone who tried to stop him…well, he'd get to that part later.
Throwing the phone down, Alfred practically flew away from the pay phone and stormed down the hallways, heading for Beast Boy's room (he'd left his coat and hat on the chair beside the bed). The butler didn't quite fancy having to cross through the wreckage that was once Jump City, but he had to find Master Bruce and see what he could do to help.
The elderly man, simmering a considerable bit, nearly passed by Starfire's room without noticing that the lights had gone out; fortunately, he caught it out of the corner of his vision and turned back, one white eyebrow raised in interest. That was odd…it was storming outside, true, but there didn't appear to be any electrical outages in the rest of the hospital. So, feeling slightly apprehensive, the British gentleman crept over to the door and pushed it open, sliding inside noiselessly.
At first, nothing appeared wrong: The alien girl was sleeping peacefully, and a single overhead light was switched on, illuminating her young face. Alfred was just beginning to think that maybe he had automatically assumed the worst, when multiple clicks and whirs came out of the shadows, and he stiffened in alarm as black and silver robots stalked towards the girl and himself.
Think, think! What do I do!
His mind didn't comply with his frantic, chaotic thoughts, and any chances for a "daring plan" were wiped blank with the fearful buzzing in his brain. These drones…they were probably here for the Titan; but since they had spotted him…
"Oh, dear," He whispered faintly, backing up as the machines approached, flexing their long—and rather sharp looking—fingers. His back met the wall, and his fingers scrambled along the plaster, searching for the door handle, but there was nothing.
No way out.
Robin-
"You were faster than I was expecting," Slade commented in his typical calculating voice, that same voice that came back to haunt Robin on those late nights that he spent obsessing, the frigid tone that criticized him, and made him feel insignificant—as if nothing he did could ever make a difference.
Robin hated that.
"I learned from the best," the teen responded, trying to match the mocking lilt that Slade's own voice carried.
"Hmm. So you did…and are you going to shoot me now?" The man's voice was just as calm at Bruce's back on the rooftop, as if it made no difference whether a gun was present or not.
"You'd deserve it," Robin hissed, jabbing the gun into the back of the criminal's head. "It's just the two of us down here, Slade…nobody would know…nobody would care…"
A dark chuckle rose in the man's throat, and, not fazed in the least, he said quietly:
"Don't fool yourself, boy. You couldn't shoot Batman to save your friends' lives…"
The apprentice felt the weapon almost slip out of his hand, which had gone slack, and he glanced quickly at the mastermind's desk, where the controller lay, obsolete.
"You…you BASTARD!" The Titan roared, enraged. "We had a deal—"
"And you broke it," Slade interrupted, countering his accusation. "You see? At the simple mention of murder, you flinch, you turn away—your heroic beliefs can't accept it. You won't be able to shoot me, and you know it."
"Trust me," Robin said, voice trembling with barely suppressed wrath. "This is completely different."
"But in the end, I'm still just a man—if not a villain—"
"You're not a man, you're a monster!" The Boy Wonder said, but he was trembling violently. There was a pause, where Robin's labored breathing was quite audible in the darkness, before Slade said in a sly undertone:
"It wouldn't matter, whether you shot me or not, anyway…"
…It was there that he subjected himself to experiments of a truth serum which made him—
Immortal.
It doesn't matter what you do, a small part of him said sadly. You'll never be rid of him…
Slowly, in a somewhat defeated manner, Robin lowered the gun, inch by fraction of an inch. Too bad this was exactly what Slade had been waiting for.
Bruce-
"Robin? Dick! Where are you!"
Still hacking smoke out of his lungs, Bruce flung out an arm to steady his body, which had been swaying precariously near the edge, glaring at his surroundings as the fog cleared. No sign of his son anywhere.
Damn it.
With an annoyed sigh, Bruce pulled out a small handhold device, which he examined closely. He really hoped that the tracker he'd thrown had latched onto Richard—
A small red dot beeped loudly on the plasma screen, and Bruce felt a wave of relief wash over him. All he had to do was follow it now…
Alfred-
The sinister drones were coming closer and closer, and he gulped loudly, trying to work around the lump that had built up in his throat so that he could scream for help…but he might as well have been choking…it was no good…
His palm slapped out against the wall again, hoping he could find the door, but his skin made contact with something cold, making him jump in alarm, before he got a better look at what it was…
A fire extinguisher.
Thank you, God.
Not bothering to consider the drawbacks of his idea, Alfred wrenched it from the wall and blasted the oncoming enemy with cold, white foam, blinding them for a few minutes—but that was all the time he needed, as he swung and crashed the heavy hunk of metal into the heads of the robots; the machinery crackled and broke beneath the vicious onslaught of Alfred's attacks, and soon, barely none were left, aside from a few pieces still clawing their way towards him…
The butler, turning on his heel, located the door (which, he would notice later, hadn't been that far away at all), flung it open, and raced down to the other Titans rooms, shouting his head off for help. A male nurse intercepted him, and began to try and calm him down.
"Whoa, dude, relax. Seriously, what's—"
"Shut up and listen to me," Alfred snapped, not bothering to be polite for once in his life. "The Teen Titans are in severe danger. Get to their rooms and help them as best as you can!"
Without waiting for a response, the British man yanked himself out of the man's grasp and hurried into Beast Boy's room, not a moment too late. As he took on the new drones, he heard the nurse behind him peer into Cyborg's room, then letting out a string of foul words as he rushed to protect the helpless patient.
Robin-
"HYAH!"
His battle shout echoed in the dim atmosphere, as Robin struck Slade's chin with his heel in a sweeping stretch kick, before twisting his body lithely to plunge a back kick firmly into the center of the older man's face. The villain caught his foot at what seemed like the final second and jerked it to one side, making the boy yell out loud in shock as he went spinning through the air, landing hard on his side. Crap, that had hurt…
He was still slightly dizzy when the ball of Slade's foot connected with his jaw, sending his head up with a snap, and the taste of coppery blood rushed across his tongue. A muscular hand closed around his ankle dragging him upwards till he was hanging upside down, with heat rushed to his head as he swung, dazed from the unexpected move on Slade's part…striking an opponent when they were still down was against the rules in formal combat…probably why he hadn't seen it coming…
The masked man yelled aloud with effort, and he flung the boy from him; Robin flew through the air for a moment, before he hit the wall with a sickening crack, sliding down to the floor wearily.
Get up, get UP!
"You're going to have to do better than that, Robin, if you ever want to defeat me," Slade commented dryly, and the apprentice felt his face flush with humiliation, before he staggered back to his feet, punching wildly.
Knife hand chop to the neck—deflected and crushed in Slade's iron grip, though Robin retaliated with a harsh uppercut, his two front knuckles slipping down to drive themselves into the man's throat; but his master brought his knee up to the Boy Wonder's ribs, and they both heard another crack, louder than the first. His blood ran thick and warm, as it flowed to his broken rib, accenting the injury, and his mind went spinning again, so delirious with pain that he almost didn't know Slade's fist had connected with his cheek, until he was skidding along the floor, watching the scenery fly by above him. He hurt all over…God, did it hurt…
"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times," Slade said emotionlessly, watching Robin pick himself up again. "I don't tolerate disobedience from someone like you."
The former Titan laughed softly, almost disbelieving.
"Someone like me…why not? Is it because I'm as pitiful as all the other heroes out there…? Or…" Robin paused for air. "Is it because I'm not like them—the reason you want me to be your apprentice in the first place—and you can't break me as easily as the others…? Because, you know that maybe…just maybe…" Here, the teen shot him a look of pure spite, before spitting out, amongst a mouthful of blood:
"…I'm stronger than you…"
Slade-
Those four words hung in the silence between them like a steel wall, practically dripping with challenge, while Robin gathered his bearings…and Slade contemplated this fact.
The boy was correct about one thing—he wasn't like other heroes that he'd dealt with before. Perhaps it was the way that they were so similar, as he had claimed before. Not all that Slade had said in the past was used to goad the child into releasing more of his potential. They were similar…in the way that they both hid from the world with their masks, their new identities sweeping all the dirty little secrets of an old life into a closet full of skeletons and past wounds…
It was Robin's determination, and his obsessive nature that was both his greatest weapon, and his deadliest flaw…and there was his flair for martial arts, his brooding nature that drew Slade to investigate the young man more closely, to watch him and look for certain dark streaks in his behavior that made him, as he had just said, different from other heroes, such as his companions, or his father and the Justice League.
There was still much to know about the youth that had not been revealed…Robin depended so much on his mask…if Slade were to remove that, how strong would the Boy Wonder be without it?
How strong would you be, without yours, though?
The man knew why Robin thought he was stronger; it was the only thing that made him remotely similar to his late team mates.
He thought that he could love, and that his adversary could not.
How…ridiculous.
We will see just how strong you are, Slade thought, running forward to plant a flying side kick directly on the boy's ribcage; Robin dodged the blow, and flipped over the criminal, preparing for a roundhouse kick to the back of his head, but the man whipped around in a blur and grabbed the boy by the throat, causing him to choke and grapple futilely with the fingers that were steadily tightening and digging in his flesh. Robin twisted and writhed in midair, trying to get free, and Slade banged his head against the wall with a loud thud, making him sag in the man's grip, and cease to resist…
The two of them didn't make a sound, as the villain watched his young student pry limply at his massive hand, still clenched about his throat…did he know that he could die at this moment? Did he finally see what it meant, to kill, to accept the idea that one had the power to end life…to take it away, just like any almighty being that existed in religion?
Did he get it now?
Robin's heart was thudding violently…Slade could feel it pounding in the boy's throat, thumping out a rhythm upon the man's palm…it was the rapid, tenacious beat of a child, beating harder and harder, refusing to give in, crying out in the same, never-ending pattern, 'I will not go…I can't go…"
He was just a scared little teenager, and that was all that he would ever be…unless he allowed himself to be molded…something that Slade was going to make a reality, if it was the last thing he did.
Robin-
The lack of oxygen to his brain, to his entire body, had rendered him powerless to save himself, to fight off Slade who wouldn't even blink at the idea of strangling him…
I don't want to die.
"S—St…op…" He croaked feebly, swinging his leg in a kick, though it led to no avail…he wasn't sure that the man had heard him…
'What's the use?' his inner self said, sounding exhausted as it strove to keep pushing on, to keep battling to the end… 'You can't save yourself…it's no good…'
Was that the honest-to-God truth?
What is truth, or justice, or freedom?
…Only what I make it do be.
Hold on. Just keep holding on…
Robin was so feverish, he almost didn't notice when Slade sunk his fist deep into his gut, grinding his knuckles on the youth's broken rib…in the distance, somebody was screaming loudly, but it was faint in his own ears…it was all long gone…the screams continued, and the beating from Slade was dull, swirling and melting in the thick, beautiful fog that was enveloping him…
And then it all stopped. Robin slunk to the floor, the pressure on his throat released, and he ached in a dozen different places…he lay on the cool floor like a battered insect that had been swatted multiple times, though it would not die…but for some reason, that terrible agony was fading into the mist that was just beginning to clear…he couldn't feel anything?
How—?
'You're pulling through because you still think that you can save the Titans and Bruce,' his psyche said gently, extending a hand to help him get up. "You think that there's still a chance for them…don't you?"
I am stronger than him…
Slade had turned his back on him and begun to walk along casually, but he glanced back when he heard Robin groan and push himself back onto his feet, before facing his nightmare, the demon who had made his life hell…the single person in the world that he hoped he would have the opportunity to murder one day, despite the values he had been taught about respecting life.
"I want another chance," Robin growled, sounding as brave as he possibly could.
"What?" Slade asked, sounding amused. Robin nodded, glaring at his worst enemy.
"You heard me…besides, what have I got to lose…?" He gave a shudder as he inhaled, before switching back into a fighting stance, blowing past his trembling limbs.
"Again."
The man stopped for a beat, then shrugged uncaringly and took out his bo—staff.
"As you wish."
"You can have power over people as long as you don't take everything away from them. But when you've robbed a man of everything, he's no longer in your power."
—Aleksander I. Solzhenitsyn
To be Continued…
I'll try to update again as soon as I can…there's only four chapters left to go after this one, so we're getting close to the end…I'm sorry if this chapter sucked at any parts, or if the fighting scene wasn't any good (I tried to incorporate as much as I know about Tae Kwon Do, though I'm just a purple belt)…but I just…well, you know. See you soon…
Rebel-Aquarius