Allow Me to Live Like You
Alexnandru Van Gordon
Alex: (Bound and gagged, sitting on chair in front of desk) Hmmm! Hmmm—mmmmmm! Hmmm mm!
Mad Mob: Now, now, Duckies—don't get your knickers in a twist about your friend here. He's in good hands. (Laughs) Looks like good ol' Alex will be miss'n school for a couple of days—and no one's gonna care to call because they already know he's sick! Ha ha ha! What a day… (Looks to Alex) Hmmm…guess I can home school you for a while… So here's lesson number one—
—In reality, the goodies never win. It's all about the baddies! Pop quiz, Alex! Are you more likely to see on the news: a) a shooting down at the mall, or b) some guy that can fly, saving the lives of a hundred people? Hmmm…?
Alex: (Writhing in binds, particularly working on the ones around his ankles) Hmm! Hmm mm mm mm mm!
Mad Mob: (Grinning wickedly) No answer? Thought not. Oh well—it was jus a pop quiz. You'll have one more chance to come up with the answer by the end of this chapter (Pulls out a chainsaw from somewhere in pocket and continues to grin), which I do so very much like—but I changed the ending as you will soon see.
(To readers) Well, well, well. Cheer on your writer boy here and pray he gets the right answer soon—or I might have to call him in sick, permanently! Ha ha ha!
Alex: (Eyeing chainsaw, sweating.)
Mad Mob: Anyhow…
DISCLAIMER: (Mad Mob: You should get the drift by now, duckies.)
CHAPTER FIVE: Old friends…err…enemies
-R-
Robin continued his sweep of the city for another hour. Nothing was happening…how boring. At least in Jump City he could return to the tower and do something to keep busy. With Batman around, he'd never get a chance alone.
"Wish I was home…"
"Robin?"
He turned around. He had been staring at the streets below again, mesmerized by the dancing lights, until HW came into view. She and Speedy stood on a the building across the alleyway from him, not likely to be able to jump as far as he could.
"Umm…how do you do that rooftop jumpy thingy." She asked, gazing cautiously over the side of her building. "You're human—right?"
"The last time I checked, yeah." He shrugged and looked back down at the street. "I grew up in a circus as an acrobat."
"That would explain the flips, huh?" Speedy sighed, also gazing at the wide space between them and Robin. "We saw you a moment ago hopping like some sort of jackrabbit all over the place. Pretty cool."
"How'd you guys get here anyway?"
HW smiled and pulled out one of Robin's old Bo-staff. Twirling it, the two ends extended, meant as a safety mode in case it broke in half when he was in the middle of a battle. "Climb the fire escape to the roof and pull volt like crazy!"
That was smart.
"Okay…than why are you here?"
Speedy stepped back from the edge, pulled out another staff of Robin's, and used his technique to get to the other side with a soft thud. "We wanted to ask you a couple of questions. We think your Slade person is one in the same with someone in Batman's files."
Robin spun back toward them in an instant, just as HW landed gently beside Speedy. They knew something? They were going…to help him…?
"Won't the JL think you two are crazy…like me…?" He asked, still remembering the little meeting in the living room.
"Probably." HW grinned. "But we don't care."
He was glad he still had some people who believed him. It was obvious the Teen Titans finally gave into reason that he was not insane, but why the newbie and his rival/friend? They barely knew him.
"Thanks…" He whispered shyly, grateful for their help. "So—what do you know about him?"
HW sat on the edge of the building and crossed her arms. "Before we can be certain—we need a name. Preferably a full name."
Things were looking brighter.
"Slade Wilson."
The colour drained from Speedy's face and HW leapt up into the air. "I knew it! You owe me five bucks, Spyboy."
Speedy grumbled.
HW cleared her throat and stood straight as though she were presenting a speech. Then, like a computer voice, began: "Slade Wilson—known once before as Deathstroke the Terminator. His story starts when he was a Sergeant in the UN peacekeeping mission under the command of Colonel Sampson—and I don't blame Wilson for hating the guy. He got married to a woman named Adeline Kate, and had two sons by her—Grant as his oldest and Joseph as his second, all three…dead. But that's besides the point—after his first son was born, Wilson volunteered to—"
The ground shook, and all three stumbled. Robin kept on his feet, but Speedy fell and HW had to wave her hands not to fall over the side of the building. Then there was a pause before another shake came…and a third…then it was silent. Nothing was destroyed, but…
"What the hell was that?" Speedy shouted, rubbing the back of his head as he stood.
"Shhh!" Robin ordered and they listened. The three large shakes had to be from explosives, but these new thuds sounded like…
Cinderblock.
Storming around the corner of the street into their view was the infamous Cinderblock—twice as large as Robin remembered him being—and on each shoulder were two old enemies. Mad Mob and Mumbo.
How did they get out of jail?
People began running and screaming, fleeing for their lives. Robin couldn't remember if Gotham had ever dealt with a living chunk of rock that stood as tall as some of the business buildings. No…Cinderblock had to be larger than twice his size. He was gigantic!
Slade's doing.
"Who's this bloke?" HW asked, staring at the man/boulder in surprise. "He's not in Batman's database."
"Because he's in mine." Robin said and whipped out his grappling hook. Taking aim for a building across the street, he shot the hook and jumped. Swinging diagonally, he lifted his left leg into the position of a sidekick and headed straight for Mumbo. He took the man by surprise and almost knocked him off Cinderblock's shoulder.
Landing, he retracted his grappling hook and returned it to his belt, whipping out his Bo-staff. Mad Mob was on the other shoulder and he would deal with him later.
Mumbo, now standing, took off his hat and reached inside it. Pulling out his hand, he held a card between each finger. "Pick a card—any card!"
The cards came whipping at him with a fling of Mumbo's hand, one cutting across his left cheek and the other on the outside of his right thigh. He thought himself lucky that the cards simply grazed his body, but he hadn't been prepared for them to swing back. He knocked away three of the four cards with his staff once he spun around, but one escaped its notice. It stabbed into his left shoulder, leaving a bloody gash when he took it out.
Tossing it to the ground, he looked up at Mumbo. The maniac magician had his hat back in his head, a full deck of cards in his hand. "Black Jack! Dealer wins! Care to try again?"
Zap!
Mumbo stood frizzled, hair standing on end where you could see it. His deck of cards was burnt black in his hand, a tiny flame consuming a corner of the sharp paper. Eyes wide, he blinked once before shaking his head and frowning in the direction of the attack.
HW stood with her arms stretched up toward the skies, grinning down at Robin from the top of the roof. "There's a storm tonight!" She yelled with glee, thunder rumbling off in the distance. Indeed there would be. They sky was cloudier now.
"Brat!" Mumbo shouted, whipping out his wand. "Try this on for size, girlie!"
Out from the end of his wand shot a long ling of coloured hankies tied together at the ends. Blue, red, yellow, green, and purple swirled around HW's waist before she could lower her arms, hands charged with snapping electricity. It tightened and she was pulled off the roof, falling toward the ground. Luckily she didn't hit it—but she did swing into Cinderblock with a loud thud.
"What's going on 'ere?"
Robin looked up. On top of Cinderblock's head stood Mad Mob. At least Cinderblock was still oblivious to the fact that a battle was raging out on his shoulders. The stone head was still trudging onward through the street, groaning then and again like Frankenstein.
"Shouldn't you be in bed, kids?" The British man asked with a grin on his face, young again. He leaned on his cane without any worry, eyeing Robin over his spectacles. "And look who we've got here. I thought you had a room booked in our asylum—guess you're on the run too!"
How did news of his hallucinations spread so quickly? He thought only the Teen Titans and Batman knew.
He blushed a light colour of pink quite briefly.
"Oh well, let's let the kids stay up tonight." Mumbo said, the chain of hankies breaking at the end of his wand. Running to the edge of Cinderblock's shoulder, he watched and waited as HW fell that short distance to the ground. "They can watch the late show."
A bunch of arrows came soaring down on the two villains in an instant. Robin stood there for a moment, watching as they danced around to avoid getting skewered. And even when the rain of arrows ended, they didn't look none too happy. Mumbo began cursing in Latin and Mad Mob waved his cane, both glaring at Speedy who still stood on the roof of the building. He had to run ahead and jump to a new roof top to keep up with Cinderblock, but Cinderblock wasn't moving too fast.
—(Mad Mob: This is where I will be interrupting what Alex was writing and modify what he's got down, duckies. I'm not too happy with the arrowhead kid there, but I'm willing to let it pass.
Alex: (Slipping his ankles free, plants a kick on Mad Mob's back)
Mad Mob: Argh! (Falls forward and hits head on wall. Then falls to the ground unconscious.)
Alex: (Rubs mouth against shoulder and successfully pulls the gag down to around his neck) Thank God that's over… (Sighs heavily) You just keep reading until I get out of the rest of this… (Struggling) I'll see you at the end of the chapter… Wait…HOLY CROW! I forgot about Cyborg!))—
"You take the one on the roof." Mad Mob hissed to his temporary partner. "I'll get this brat."
Mumbo let out a roar of laughter, shooting another chain of colourful cloth, this one at Speedy. "Sit back and relax kiddies—"
Mad Mob jumped down until he was face to face with Robin, and then he did something odd. He tossed Robin a small, screenless communicator that was on. You had to push a button to reply, but it was off.
"Just listen." Mad Mob instructed with a crooked grin. "You might find out a new thing or two in just a moment…"
Seeing that Speedy was doing quite alright with Mumbo, he stood cautiously watching the British man and listened. Then he heard it begin…
-B-
It wasn't as easy as it used to be when Robin was younger. Too young to go out on his own even if he wanted to, his surrogate son had to get over his frustration at Bruce sooner or later. Now that he could just run away from it all, he could hold onto all that hate and fury. Hate…that was what was driving him to levels of stress no one his age should experience…that was what was turning him into the type of person they used to send to jail together. If Robin wasn't careful, he'd being seeing things from another perspective very soon…
"You haven't changed a bit…"
For once he had to admit he was startled. Spinning around, a batarang already in his hand, he tried to recall where he had heard that voice before. It was so familiar…so dark…
"Don't you know that people shouldn't go out alone this late at night? Especially someone like you, who is looking purposefully for trouble…"
Batman couldn't see him. Just his dark silhouette lingering in the shadows of a much taller building standing next to the one they were on. But there was an eye missing…only one eye glared at him from the left side of his face…
"Deathstroke..."
"I'm glad you haven't forgotten me—or did I see you hesitate for just a moment there? Could have it been fear, even?...No…you and your boy are so much alike. I doubt you fear much of anything either than for those you love and for the light of your hearts. How sad…"
Batman gritted his teeth. How could this be…? Deathstroke was…dead! He took several bullets to the chest right after one of the most dangerous missions Batman had ever been on before. People didn't just wake up from the grave—it was impossible! This had to be a hologram or another person posing as him—
"You don't recognize me…do you?" The eye narrowed, the only thing absolutely visible in the pitch-black darkness of his haven shadow. "You don't think I'm real, do you? Don't be a fool. Other people have made that same mistake and almost paid with their lives."
"What do you want this time?" Batman said in a warning voice, a deep growl beginning to grow in the back of his throat. "Or are you just here to say hi to the rest of the team?"
Deathstroke gave a small laugh. "No…this is between you and me, my friend. If you get out of this alive, I want you to crawl back to your companions and have the special treatment of being locked up for your insanity. No one will believe you when you tell them was me who stole what I am about to steal."
"And what would that be?"
This was not the time for fun and games. With this guy free to run around all over Gotham city, who knew how long until mass destruction followed. Death, suffering, obliteration…this man was carnage with a heartbeat.
"What?!" The man broke out into laughter again, humored by Batman's lack of knowledge to his plans. That was something the villain did to everyone, made them feel like they weren't as much as they thought they were. "Tell me you're joking. Tell me you know what I'm after…"
"I'll only ask again." He snapped back.
"It's only something—you could say with certainty—that is worth more than your very life. Something worth dying to keep."
"According to you, life isn't worth much of anything at all. Our minds aren't on the same track when it comes to morals and values. You'll have to be more specific."
The icy laughter continued, sending chills along his spine. "I am, Bat—I thought how you would think when trying to explain it to you…" Then the laughter died, but the victory remained in the cool, calculating voice. "I guess you'll have to find out when its far too late to save it. You know the old saying, though? You don't know how much you miss something until its actually gone."
"Enough riddles."
"But these aren't riddles! I'm talking plain English. But I should have known. You always think there's a bigger picture that your missing—and because you do, you miss the entire picture. This is so disappointing. I thought you sought to save and protect everyone, but tonight I think you killed someone…emotionally speaking, that is…"
What? Who was he talking about?
Then there was a glint of something metal in the darkness, something small and round. Batman heard the click of a button and saw Deathstroke raise the object to his lips. "Did you hear that?...All of it?..."
Batman heard another click—this one from the other side of the end.
Deathstroke laughed. "What a temper! Hanging up on me…oh well. You can teach them whatever you want to when they're young…Goodbye for now, Bat."
Batman didn't even bother chasing after him as he flipped backward off the edge of the building. He was too confused, wondering who that had been on the other end. How did he hurt them…?
What was Deathstroke up to and why was he doing it?
-R-
Robin just about dropped the communicator when Slade spoke to him. True to HW's word, Slade and Deathstroke were one in the same. Not only did Batman not believe him when he told him the man was back from the dead, but he didn't even understand what Slade was talking about. Hadn't he said only earlier that Robin was the only thing left keeping him alive? Slade pointed that out and the fool didn't even notice.
Mumbo and Speedy no longer fought. Both were staring at Robin, wondering why he looked so devastating. Mad Mod had heard it, and even his face was serious now.
Maybe he was over exaggerating… Maybe Slade dressed up as someone different when he used the identity of this Deathstroke person. But still…Batman didn't know anymore what was valuable enough to him. If he wasn't going to die form the loss of family, what would kill him?
He was just as heartless as Slade.
Robin threw down the communicator and stomped on it, crushing the metal and wires in one quick motion. Then he kicked it off Cinderblock's shoulder, and it embedded itself in the brick of another building side.
He knew he had to hold onto hate, but he could he sanely stand this much? This was too much…
Well, he had wished for it.
The sound of other heroes entering the battle woke him from his slight trace. Seeing red, he was told later on that he fought like a savage when he sat up on the pavement, stars around his head. Cinderblock had been taken down, somehow shrunk back down to his normal size, and he—along with Mad Mod and Mumbo—was being logged off to prison.
Upon returning home he took another cold shower, the sky outside lighting to a rosy pink—a sailors warning. He ignored it and stayed in costume. He was going back to Jump City to get Raven and Cyborg—and Starfire above anyone else—return to Gotham, and defeat Slade. The sooner it was done, the sooner he could prove everyone he was sane, and the sooner he could leave Gotham for good.
After telling Speedy and Beast Boy his plan, and asking his rival to use his motorcycle, Robin made his way down into the Batcave—met with a weary Batman, rubbing his tired, black eyes. His mask was off, but he was still dressed, and it looked as though he just got back from his night watch.
"Where are you going?" Batman asked, grabbing Robin gently by the arm when he strode right past him toward Speedy's bike.
"Jump City, Bruce." He answered plainly, as if talking to an acquaintance rather than his legal guardian. "I'll be back when I get back—but I told Beast Boy to stay and help you for the time being."
Without his mask, he could see the puzzlement on Bruce's face. "Why?"
"I'm getting the rest of my team and I'm taking Slade down. If you want, I'll ask for the police in Jump City to transfer the villains we caught tonight to one of their prisons. After all, those lunatics are from my city, and you've got barely enough room to lock up yours as is."
"What!" Bruce kept his hold on Robin's arm when he tried to walk away. "Have you already forgotten why you're here in the first place? One: you can contact your friends and they will find ways to get here on their own; and two: This Slade isn't real. He's dead."
"Oh really?!" Robin snapped, venom in his voice. He turned sharply toward Bruce and pulled his arm free of his grip. "Could have fooled me! Haven't you seen someone who should be dead, up and walking about lately? Anyone at all?"
He saw the confusion unfold on Bruce's face.
"What's going on down here?" Wonder Woman asked from the top of the stairs to the basement. "We heard shouting."
Robin said nothing. He stormed away toward the motorcycle, determined to leave and never come back.
"Robin! Stop!"
It wasn't Batman that stopped him in his tracks—it was Wonder Woman's lasso. He almost forgot that just about everyone thought he was crazy. If this was part of Slade's plan, all Robin could so was give him silent standing ovation…
-A-
Alex: (Finally free of bindings, ties the unconscious Mad Mod up in the corner of the room and sits back down in front of the computer) Whoa—that felt good! Never took down a baddie down on my own and I guess I'll have to invite one of the heroes out of my story to come and pick him up.
A couple of things…okay—a lot of things:
1) I pretty much guessed by now that you guys saw my meeting with Slade in chapter…seven, I believe. Yes, some of the villains from Jump City have been called together by Slade, and no, "I"—as in me, Alexnandru Van Gordon—am not working with, or for, him. He came out of the story, but I asked him to wait until I was done writing the chapter to talk to me. Luckily, he's a respectable person and waited just outside my door. I was just a little irritated at Robin because I was tired of people jumping out of my story and I wanted him to go back before Slade caught him. See (Shows both hands above head as though about to be shot) I'm not a villain.
2) I'm using virtually every source I know of to make my story as historically correct as I can, but I changed a couple of other things for purposes unknown yet to you. Like…I can't remember if Slade's sons were killed—or even his wife, for that matter—and he had a daughter named Rosa…I think. But they don't show up in the story and that's why I had to say they were dead—so you wouldn't think there's a bigger picture than there really is…like Batman…which brings up my third point—
3) Yes, holy crow, I'm bashing the Dark Knight over the head with my flashlight! I only hope he isn't the next one to jump out at me (Eyes entire room cautiously)… But that might not be for very long. You'll get to see your crusader finally standing tall and proud at the end, I promise, but Robin is still head of my cast. This conflict between father and son is crucial to me right now so please don't be upset and ask me to change it instantly (plus, I'm still pretty angry at all those darn adults for belittling me…I'm sixteen for heavens sake! Not three! Argh…).
(Evil grin)…
4) And for my fourth point…(Picks up the rough-rough-rough-rough-rough draft of final chapter, which is really just a couple of points written down, than anything at all.) I was writing down stuff for the finale to see how I'm supposed to wrap things up, and, no matter what I do, I discovered that I painted myself into a corner (excuse the cliché). No, that doesn't mean I will delete previous chapters and rewrite them, it means something else… (Still grinning) I can't remember what you call them, but I left myself up for a third story…hehehe, yes—that's right! I made a flaw in the way I ended this feud between Robin and Slade and that means—this being under the Angst theme and all—Robin is going to have to suffer and the saga shall continue! Mwah ha ha ha ha! Oh, you'll see what I mean all you Robin vs. Slade fans! And yes, I will have a duel between them—and not just one. I have to set the right environment and lock all the doors Robin might us to win or escape first, otherwise it won't be that exciting.
PS: I guess you could call this a warning because there will be another character death in the future. Don't go thinking it's Robin or Slade right away…be the detectives I know you are, like when I made you guess if I was going to kill Grayson or not. Think hard about who I'd need to keep around in the third book. Ooooooh (Bubbling with anticipation) you'll never guess in a million years! Mwah ha ha ha ha! And no—as hard as I am bashing Batman, he will not die…or… (Looking at rough draft, scribbles something down) Sorry, I just had to make things harder for you. Tell me if I'm driving you crazy, because now you have to observe my need of the Dark Knight, and think purposes for why I would keep him alive too.
-Hate me yet?
-Alexnandru Van Gordon