Blast to the Supposed Past

Alexnandru Van Gordon

Hey—just to let you know, this takes place after 'Haunted' when the Titans believe Slade is dead but Robin is beaten up by a hallucination of him. That is why he hangs up on the gang member and wants to go after Slade alone. It was to confirm his idea that Slade was behind the hallucinations.

And I have been asked—Why the Apprentice theme? Well, for those of you who've asked—bad guys who always try to kill off the main character are not only boring, but unbearable failures. They get rid of their problems by pulling the trigger or stabbing the knife—when the main character is wanted alive, it adds angst to the theme (being wanted in a way you don't want to be) and it makes everything more interesting. The villain suddenly built a wall in their own way—added borders and limits to what they can and cannot do. Not only the hero struggles, but so does the villain. Believe me—it's a hell of a lot harder to keep someone alive than it is to kill them. I'm not saying no one will get killed in my story, but I haven't decided yet—I'll probably wait until the sequel—and no, it's neither Slade nor Robin that dies.

WARNING! If I do have someone die, I ask that you send me a message whether or not that calls for a re-rating of my story. Should I just say chapter: so-and-so is rated R for character-death, or is PG-13 enough? In Canada (since I know some of you are American), I think it was a gunning show where half the people were murdered on screen and the main actress got shot between the eyes after being dragged across a floor covered in shattered glass—that was rated PG. ?Huh? I don't have any idea why Canada under-rates movies and such. I mean, (I'm sixteen) when I was fifteen, I was allowed into Dawn of the Dead even though it was rated 18A or something like that. Don't know why—and if anyone does, please tell me in the review (if you do).

THANK YOU to the one person who reviewed AND gave me constructive criticism. I actually got more review than I expected, but this person was the only one who followed my instructions exactly to the letter. Oh, and, those of you who review, tell me if chapters two and three and, obviously, this one show up when you click my story. Last I checked it said CHAPTERS: 3, but all I got was one when I clicked on it. Huh? Oh—and I neither my name nor my stories show up on the Search engine. Oh well.

Thank you for reading—NOW! ON TO THE STORY!!!

NOTE! Starfire will really be the only other Titan who will see the other Slade for sequel purposes. I might show another Titan here and there, but if anyone shows up to find Robin—it'll be Star. This serves a purpose of great importance to the sequel.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own them—never will. But I still like the show—in fact, I love it!

Enjoy.

CHAPTER FOUR: Stick With Your First Choice:

Starfire placed the note back down by the phone with a heavy sigh. The other would be back soon from their searching and they would think nothing of Robin's sudden departure. Why not call them on their communicator. It would have been a lot quicker and would have prevented her from worrying.

Unless he wanted to fight the villain alone.

Starfire thought back to the early incident with the dust from Slade's mask. Who would have done it? Slade didn't have any partners, he only ever wanted an apprentice. He had invented the dust to torture Robin, but how would he feel victory from it if he were dead since there was no way a normal human being could survive lava?

Robin once explained to her the fragility of the human mind and body. To kill a man physically, just about anything would work. To break a man's soul and kill him through that method you would most likely have to isolate him completely. There were other methods such as the breaking of the heart and the lose of something irreplaceable, but isolation was the worst. Was that why Slade wanted an apprentice? Did he feel so distant from the rest of the world that he needed someone like himself to comfort the pain? Was he simply alone…?

Maybe, but it was clear that that wasn't the only thing he had on his mind. Slade fought to win—to win everything. Starfire might have been from another planet, but she understood the needs and wants of every living being. She herself longed to be accepted and loved, to understand what she could not yet comprehend. Her needs of love and want for knowledge were simple items for the mind of an innocent, but Slade was not innocent. He had knowledge and he did not long to be loved and accepted. He wanted power, but he did, however, not want to be alone. Why? What was he so afraid of? Was isolation the key to breaking a man of such great power?

Starfire smiled to herself. She had concluded all that without Robin's guidance. Would he be proud of her assumptions if he knew what she was thinking, or would he find fault and kindly correct her. Either was fine with her. She just wanted to find him.

Walking over to the large screen in their living room, she pressed a couple of buttons on the board and waited. Just as she suspected. Robin's locator showed that he was by the piers—and he was not in motion. That could only mean that he had found his criminal and was either fighting or devising a plan.

Suddenly the 'R' on the map disappeared and she could not trace it again no matter how many times she scanned the area with the computer. One—he smashed his communicator, or two—someone was messing with it.

Starfire pulled out her own communicator and sighed. "Cyborg, I am leaving to see if Robin requires my assistance. We may be late upon returning, but do not worry unless I send a distress signal."

She knew that if she came with the others and it did happen to be Slade, Robin would kill her. He was obsessed with putting Slade 'out of his misery' once and for all with his own two hands—alone. Starfire would 'spy' on her stressful friend and aid him only if the time called for her too. Otherwise, she would just be a part of the audience and hope she didn't get caught.

"I am coming, Robin." She said to herself, pocketing her communicator once more. Then she turned away from the screen and headed toward the door to the hall. She needed to hurry least her friend was in trouble too deep for him to escape from.

-G-

Grayson found the children without much trouble and led them through the dark factory, fighting a bot or two when he was noticed despite his stealth. He had three kids with him and it was pretty hard to keep them from making too much noise. He did, however, make it to the office and closed the door behind him with a heavy sigh. That was close, but he was still worried. He was still in Slade's uniform and there was no sight of Robin. Had he taken his advice and left to gather the other Titans?

No. They both knew they were too stubborn with their pride to ever do such a thing. Perhaps he was still leading the people to safety—and then how was Grayson supposed to return the kids to their parents? Turn them over to the police to find them—no! Slade was still around and Grayson knew something bad was going to happen to Robin, the feeling in his gut was driving him nuts.

"Come on." He told the kids, holding the young girl in his arms. He led them up onto the roof and down the side of the building using the fire escape stairways. Once at the bottom, three parents came running toward him from their hiding spot around the corner of another building and embraced their children.

"Thank you." The mother thanked for the thousandth time.

"Umm…sure…" He had forgotten how good it felt to do the saving. It had been so long since last he was the leader. Slade had made sure to keep a close eye on him. "Umm…have you seen Robin—the guy who led you out to here?"

"Yes…" She said, somewhat worried. "He returned inside to find you I believe. He still hasn't returned."

"Oh no…" He muttered and gazed back at the building behind them. The parents with their children ran to get home, but he remained. He had to find Robin before it was too late to change his past.

Suddenly, a creepy thought crossed his mind. What if the Slade from his time found out about the Time Machine? Would he come back in time?

The odd feeling in Grayson's gut returned and his shoulders slouched. It was most likely going to happen sooner or later—if it hadn't happened already. Slade had always been right. He was good…but he wasn't perfect.

Grayson returned inside the building, heart racing. When he entered the office he began his search. Being the student of the detective-like Bruce Wayne, it would be a synch to pick out a clue or two if anyone else had been in the office besides himself and Robin.

He gazed around the room. His jacket, scarf, and hat were still on the chair: untouched. The other chair was still in its placed, covered with dust, as was the lamp light above and anything else in the room. The only thing that wasn't dusted was the small chain hanging from the lamp to turn it on and on. He used that when he first came to the warehouse to head Robin off, knowing he would leave a print on the untouched light switch by the fire escape door.

Grayson paused. Staring at the light switch, he moved close enough to see that indeed the dust had been disturbed. Robin knew better than to touch it and he wouldn't have had to since they both left the light on when they went to save the people. Someone else had done it and he doubted one of the hostages would have taken the time to stop and turn the lights off—and on again, obviously—when they wanted to get as far away from the place as they possibly could. That only left one option.

Slade.

He could be wrong, but he could pretty much guess what happened to the kid.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, a habit he picked up whenever he felt like hitting someone—Slade, in particular. He remembered those long five years, each one worse than the last. Usually he could control his fury, but sometimes—actually, most of the times…in the beginning—he would break out fighting against Slade and somehow always lose. And when he won, Slade made sure to 'calm him down', something he couldn't stand much either.

When Slade wanted control, he wanted complete control—emotions and all. When Grayson learned to control the thrill he obtained when he fought, only putting half a heart into each mission, it was easy enough to guess Slade wouldn't be happy. Monitoring Grayson's (Robin's—but you already know that, right?) vital signs, it wasn't hard for him to find out and do something about it. He created a serum that he injected into Grayson one night after they had fought and, of course, Grayson lost. It returned the thrill Grayson hated so much, making him—as Slade put it when he whispered into his ears—'excited…very excited.' It was one of the cruelest things Slade had done to him, but it was only one of the few things Grayson hated about him. He didn't ever want to feel excited in that sense again, absolutely berserk in battle, but what could he do?

Find Robin. Stop Slade from winning. Get the kid to kill the beast before it went rabid.

Just then, the fire escape stairs creaked from the other side of the door and a small, chilly gust of air slipped into the room from the crack under the door. He hadn't left the other door open, and, as he listened, he could hear the faint footsteps of someone making their way cautiously down the stairs.

Slade? Possibly. He knew how to keep the noise he made to a minimal.

Grayson flicked the switch and the lights went off, the sound of footsteps halting. If the person were just some kid they would run. If it were other then that they would continue even with more caution—and Grayson didn't care. If it was Slade, let him come. Grayson was in the mood for a fight, and if it were the younger Slade he could probably stand a fair chance of winning.

He suddenly prayed it was Slade and slipped away into the dark shadows of the nearest corner. He waited in silence, and listened as the footsteps continued toward the door. Then he stiffened, ready to fight as the doorknob turned ever so slowly and the door was shoved gently open. The figure stayed outside the room, obviously waiting for their eyes to adjust, and then started forward.

And lunged and—

"Star?"

He was barely able to stop himself, but backed away when he did out of shock and a bit of welcomed surprise.

Starfire shrieked and, jumping a step away from Grayson with her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Then she froze, wide eyes glued on Grayson as she lowered her shaky hand.

He was in just as much shock as she was, but he knew she recognized her. He looked just like his younger self, short spiky hair and all—in Slade's uniform, that is. Yes, his hair was still short, not allowed long by Slade. Something about your opponent grabbing it and using it to pull back your head to expose your throat for a slash. It would have been long if Grayson, as Robin, had turned into Nightwing, but Starfire's little trip to the future hadn't turned out as expected. The Starfire he knew in the future still blamed herself for what happened to him. She believed it was because she meddled with time that everything happened the way it did.

She still blamed herself for five and a half years…

"Robin…?" She began to calm but was still wide-eyed. She walked up to him and stopped a foot away, having to look up now that he was a little taller.

"Ahhh!" She screamed at the top of her lungs as she began to bawl her eyes out. Grayson flinched as was tempted to cover his ears. "I have nasaglortuck! I am shrinking…" She gave a slight whine after that word like all girls do, and cried a little softer. "And you are working for Slade again! This is such an awful day!"

She closed her eyes tight, still sobbing, and stepped forward into Grayson, wrapping her arms are his slim waist in a tight embrace. Grayson could hardly believe it. Starfire hadn't ever admitted to him that she liked him until the first time he ever escaped (only to be caught again)—and that was not supposed to happen for another three years!

Now that he thought about it, his future Starfire never mentioned going to the warehouse in search for him. She said she never thought a villain would use the same type of lair twice—too obvious. It had been the one place she forgot to check, and it didn't matter anyway to Grayson. Slade moved his lair again after he kidnapped him…

Oh no. He had to find Robin before Slade took him away to Gotham. Slade knew Bruce was Robin's mentor, and so Bruce had automatically made his way to the top of Slade's "To Kill" list.

"No, Starfire." He said softly, stroking her hair back from her forehead as she titled back her face from his chest. "You are not shrinking! And I'm not Robin. Well…at least, I'm not your robin, anyway…"

She gave him a quizzical look, expecting an explanation.

"Do you remember when you went into the future?'

Sniffing, she shook her head.

Grayson glanced at the two chairs. Taking her hand when she released him from her embrace, he led her toward them. "Sit down, Star." He sighed. "This may take a while to explain, and time isn't exactly on our side."

-R-

He throbbing with pain each heat beat, he opened his eyes slowly, cautiously, in fear someone would flash a bright light in his face and make his migraine worse. It was hard to see, anyway, his vision focusing and adjusting at an annoying long rate. But it focused eventually and he could finally begin to think.

Where was he? What happened?

Now he could feel the ropes. He was tied to a high-backed chair, each arm held to down on the armrests. Each ankle was attached to a short rope tied to separate chair legs, and another rope was wound around his midsection to prevent him from trying to stand. The last rope was tied up high around his chest and upper arms to keep him sitting up straight.

He raised his head, squinting as his vision blurred a second time and the pain in his head intensified. That, he believed, had to be one of the hardest hits Slade ever gave him.

Slade.

"Hello, Robin."

He flinched internally, not wanting his foe to see his fear. For words that were supposed to sound welcoming, the poisonous voice ruined the intention. Robin hated that voice, and he hated the owner of it even more. When would it be over? When would he, Robin, either die or win? Was that so hard to ask, or was what Grayson true? Did Slade want him to be his…

No. Grayson had to be wrong. Maybe he hallucinated the whole thing, another trick sent from Slade to torment Robin until his last breath? He would rather die than go back to what he hated being most…

"No answer, Robin? Cat got your tongue, or are you finally ready to hear what must be heard?"

Robin frowned. "And what is it that must be heard?"

It was dark, pitch-black save from the solitary beam of light bearing down on a table not twenty feet in front of Robin. Gadgets and scraps of technology were scattered here and there, some pieces brought together in a pile that could someday be a weapon or something greater. He paid little attention to these. What his eyes were pinned on was the tall, strong figure of his worst enemy leaning, half sitting on the edge of the table with his arms crossed. His sat just before the border of light and darkness so that Robin could see his half-black, half-orange mask, his one eye glued on the Boy Wonder. That eye held amusement and victory. Slade was happy, and Robin knew was about to find out why.

"You're still a child, Robin." Slade said, choosing his words carefully to stab fury in Robin's heart. "Do you think you can handle grown-up situations?"

That reminded Robin.

"Why the Titans?"

Slade paused, obviously not expecting that as one of Robin's questions.

"Pardon?"

"Why us?" Robin replied, dizzy. He was surprised he sounded so calm despite the obvious struggle against pain in his voice. "You like a good fight, don't you?"

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"I'm just clearing the facts before I do."

Slade paused again, this time a little longer. "Yes. I enjoy fighting—the harder the enemy, the better the battle. Why?"

"That's my question." Robin continued. "Why us over the Justice League or any other adult hero? Why fight and annoy a bunch of kids? After all, you did say I was still a child."

Slade stood straight, grabbing his hands behind his back in his ever-familiar stance. Then he walked forward, stopping far away enough from Robin so that he didn't have to tilt his head back to stare him eye to eye. "It seems I have underestimated you again in a small way. Perhaps you are not as young as one would think, however small you may be for a hero."

The word burned, but Robin gave no sigh that it affected him. He would remain calm and prove to Slade he wasn't as easy to push around as he thought.

"Adult heroes are like dogs." Slade explained, putting emphasis on those two words to boost the comparison. "You kick them and they come back for more, expecting that their next visit with you will be less painful than the last—always expecting they will win in the end." Then he came closer and balanced Robin's chin on his index finger and thumb, tilting the boy's head back, and leaning his own face closer. "You yourself are a mutt, a crossbreed between a hero and a rebel against all that you think you fight for. But children are amusing, and so are you. While your elders don't know when they're going to lose, you at least know when to pull back and lick your wounds. You take the time to study what others might miss, and you expect two outcomes out of every battle. You either lose…or you die…"

"In general." Robin said, sick of being lectured, especially pained at being called a mutt. "Why us?"

"Babies live in dream worlds, and adults can't stand the truth even if its two feet in front of them. Kids—teens are at the worst part of their life. They see the truth and build off that. All the pain they feel, all the inequality between child and parent they see, all the problems they cope with… They see society for what it is—darkness. You know there is no black and white; you know that you are gray."

"In general." Robin repeated, trying to get on Slade's nerves, even if in a small way. "Why us?"

Slade sighed. Not a weary sigh—an amused sigh, like an elder who was about to get to the best part of the story. "Children can be molded, fashioned into anything we adults see fit—to be fashioned into what we adults want them to be. You can pick them up and put them anywhere no matter how hard they kick and scream, no matter how hard they fight, and the younger they come, they more you can teach them—the better they can be in the future. Teach a child to be obedient and they will learn—and children remember more when they are younger. They will remember to be obedient. You know why I watched the Titans in the first place—I was choosing an apprentice since none of those fools at H.I.V.E. can do anything right. First you and then Terra, both failures on my part, and so I actually became unsure. But you know what they say? If your not sure about an answer, stick with your first choice."

He had expected it, but his gut still twisted and he wanted so badly to hit the man. How dare he think youths were just created for his purposes. Robin wasn't a toy to play with—and he wasn't clay, either. His mind was set on fighting crime and his heart supported him one hundred and one percent of the way. Nothing was going to change that.

"Well?"

Robin dared to frown, his face finally showing expression after trying so hard to remain calm and collective. Slade had won again, even if in a small way.

"My answer stands the same, Slade. No."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Robin." Slade tilted the boy's head even further back. "I don't listen to answers I don't want to hear. Besides, if I don't get what I want by asking politely, I just take it by force. You, most of all, should already know this."

"You have nothing against me." Robin spat between clenched teeth. He would have pulled his face away but even his neck was too weak to move with ease. He was still so sore… Slade must have done something to him while he slept.

"That's not the answer I was looking for, young man." Slade snapped, a tad bit of fury boiling to the surface. "But I can be reasonable. Go ahead. If you decline, then get up right now and leave."

Slade stepped back, mocking Robin. Robin couldn't get free of the ropes and Slade knew that all too well.

"No, then?" Slade said sardonically. Robin could tell he was grinning behind his mask, enjoying his victory even if he stooped to the lowest level to win.

"Cheater." Robin growled. "What is it you want so badly from this world? What has it ever done to you to deserve such a monster."

"My boy." Slade suddenly laughed. "Society created the monster."

-A-

huffhuffcoughcough Wow. I started this yesterday night but got one of our beloved writer's block around 3:00 a.m. So far I've down five different—and difficult, I might add—chores between typing and reviewing what I wrote. I think this is the latest my mom's ever stayed up, but she's a nurse and she's been working hard lately. So, if I made a few mistakes—they are unintentional. If they bug you, please write back to me, but keep in mind I am stuck in semisommus (half-asleep, half-awake mode) all night long and my eyes don't always focus. Half way through writing this I found someone else reviewed up to chapter three (thank you KaliAnn, and thank you ShadowSage2 for still being the only person to send me back both negative and positive feedback. And thanks to those of you who were kind enough to review anyway. Cookies to all of you!). Please continue to read and review and I hope you continue to like my story.

P.S. TERI!!!!!! Where the heck are you! Please don't tell me you're lost again and be honest when you finally get to reading this.

-Bows

-Alexnandru Van Gordon