"Torture him!"
"Brainwash him!"
"Kill him!"
These quotes and others were shouted by the mass of villains below the platform that separated him and the leaders of the Brotherhood from the rest of the crooks glaring at him. Robin bit back the urge to shudder. He always knew he had a special spot at the top of their hate list, but to see it up close was unnerving at best.
Sorrowful, masked baby blues looked up at the rest of the Titans International. Each of them were in glass containments, all of them captured because of him.
If only I had seen through Rouge's facade, we wouldn't be in this mess, he thought.
His friends and teammates met his gaze with obvious worry and fear. He was their beacon of hope. If he went down, they would soon follow. They knew this, and the bad guys did too.
"Freeze him! Make him a trophy!" someone yelled, and the crowd lit up with shouts of agreement. The Brain, Mallah, and Rouge shared a look and nodded to each other.
"An excellent idea," the Brain droned and steered his mechanical gaze towards Mallah. The giant gorilla grabbed Robin by his shoulders and forcefully steered him towards the freezing chamber. He struggled the entire march there, but with his hands locked in thick metal bands, there was only so much he could do.
"You don't want to be doing that just yet," a stranger declared, his deceptively calm voice contrasting heavily with the rabble. Robin visibly stiffened. He knew that voice all too well.
The normally fearless boy wonder's reaction did not go unnoticed by the swarm of Jump City villains. Yes, they had fought him countless times; some even broke his bones at one point or another. But no one had ever seen that flicker of hesitation before, and that peaked their collective interest.
From the shadows emerged a man garbed in black and orange, his singular gray eye piercing anyone that dared meet his gaze. The crowd parted for him as the noise died down, and a silent, fearful respect took its place. Robin rolled his shoulders to ease the rising tension, his eyes never leaving those of the one he hated most.
"Slade."
"Robin," the other greeted back, his voice cool and coy as always, as he ascended the platform.
"To what do we owe ze pleasure, Deathstroke?" Rouge cooed, "Come to do ze honors yourself, hm?"
"On the contrary. I'm here to negotiate Robin's release."
Once again, the base was in an uproar. Slade held up a fist, instantly silencing the crowd. They knew the assassin was in a league of his own, one that rose above them in every aspect of authority and ruthlessness, as well as a line none of them were willing to cross.
"Now, let's get back to business shall we? I don't want to keep my clients waiting."
"Why should we hand him over to you?" Rouge demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, "He has been ze leading cause of trouble for us."
"Perhaps," Slade mused, not denying the facts, "but that phase is ending as of today."
"What makes you so certain, Deathstroke?" Brain droned.
The hairs on the back of Robin's neck stood. He could tell Slade was smirking beneath that emotionless mask of his, and he knew he was going to hate the reason why.
"You don't know who he is, do you?" Slade asked smoothly, his voice thick with amusement that only came from knowing something they didn't. The boy wonder squirmed in Mallah's grip. He didn't like where this was going.
"You seem to have all the answers. Why don't you tell us?"
"He is the sole heir to, not one, but three of the top crime syndicates in the world. Kill him, and you won't make it out of the room."
The large room fell into a hush; no one dared to so much as breathe. How could that be true? Robin, Boy Wonder, former protege of the Batman himself, and leader of the Teen Titans. His record was spotless. So how could he possibly be connected to three major players in the criminal underworld?
"Who are these players, Deathstroke?" Brain asked firmly, his patience wearing thin, "And how can Robin possibly have such close ties with them?"
"Normally, such questions would fall into client confidentiality, but my employers agreed it would be a good first step if he was recognized for who he truly is now," Slade smirked.
Robin lowered his head, too ashamed about what he knew was coming. He didn't dare look up at the awestruck faces of his teammates. He didn't know if he could handle their stares.
"I believe he negotiated with Ra's al Ghul to be the Demon's Heir in exchange for his little brother's freedom," Slade replied and turned to face Robin, "How is that going by the way? Is he still going through the violent phase?"
The dark haired teen glared daggers at the man, "I don't care how you know about that, but it's none of your business."
"It's already my business," Slade chuckled, "The al Ghuls were one of the ones who hired me."
"Figures," Robin spat before he could stop himself. He could feel his hostility levels rising, and he knew he needed to calm down before he did something he'd regret.
"And who is zis other client of yours, hm?" Rouge inquired, her curiosity roused.
"I can't say their name exactly," Slade answered, tone smug as he cocked his in the Titan leader's direction, "otherwise they'll send their little Talon for my head. Oh, and Robin," he added as if he'd forgotten something, "Your grandfather says hello. He can't wait to see you again."
It was so quiet, a pen could have dropped, and everyone would have heard it. While the captive heroes didn't know what exactly was going on, the villains below expressed varying levels of shock. All eyes were on the boy wonder, but his gaze was locked with that of his archenemy.
"How dare you bring that up," he growled.
With the surprising revelation, Mallah's grip had loosened, and Robin took full advantage. He twisted out the hold and slammed his cuffed arms upside the gorilla's head with enough force to knock him off his feet. But he didn't care; he was still focused on the assassin before him.
And at this point, everyone else was either too stunned or too intrigued to stop him.
"You can't make me go back. I'd rather die."
"Too bad you can't," Slade quipped, his voice taking on an edge Robin didn't recognize. Well, he did, but he didn't think the masked man was capable of sympathy.
"I'm not leaving the Titans," Robin declared, standing tall. Slade's single eye took on a deadly glint. It was a look he remembered easily—the gaze of a predator that was within striking distance of its prey.
"If you don't, there will be no Titans."
"Blackmail? Again? Run out of original ideas?" Robin chirped, though the quip was forced. He felt as if he was losing traction on a cliffhanger that would plunge into darkness soon if he didn't figure something out.
Of course, Slade could already see that the boy was grasping at straws, "It is a method that works, so why change it? But that is irrelevant," he dismissed and turned his attention back to the three leaders of the Brotherhood of Evil, "Now, if I am not able to escort Robin out of this building in the next fifteen seconds, I will blow this place sky high. No one but Robin and myself will be able to make it out alive. You will not be so lucky."
"Perhaps, for ze right price," Rouge mused, half-serious and half-playful. Robin had never seen a girl flirt with Slade, and it was very disconcerting.
"Fourteen."
Slade was not amused.
"Fine," they relented. A button was pressed, and Robin felt the bands locking his arms in place clatter to the ground. He rubbed his wrists out of reflex and instinctively looked up at the man that both saved and ruined his life in the same breath.
"I'm not leaving until my friends are safe," Robin stated defiantly.
"Zey aren't your friends anymore, little Robin," Rouge grinned wickedly and teased his hair, "Apparently, you are one of us. Villain royalty in fact. Don't worry. You will learn to like it."
He slapped her hand away, "Don't touch me."
"Whatever ze little heir wants."
"Robin," Slade commanded, and he stiffened out of reflex, mind drifting back to a time when he wore the man's colors and the sound of turning gears thrummed in sync with his footsteps and heartbeat. He'd been given a direct order. Never defy orders.
He stared back up at the Titans watching helplessly, his eyes lingering on the members of his main team.
Help me, he mouthed, and Raven nodded, their personal link aiding her in understanding what was going on from so far away. They all understood. Robin had to leave without them. They had to find their own way out, because their leader had been sold to the wolves. He needed their help this time, and they would try everything to answer the call.
I'm sorry, Robin thought as he fell in step with his worst enemy, trailing a little bit behind the man's right side as if it were second nature. Eleven weeks as the apprentice of Deathstroke caused many such habits to form.
They were just about to step off the platform when Brain called out to them, "You never said who the third player was, Deathstroke."
The man paused, "He is my apprentice, of course," he replied with something akin to almost fatherly pride. The idea made Robin feel queasy, and it didn't help with Slade clamped his hand on his shoulder and directed him back on their way.
Once again, the crowd parted, this time for the two of them. And a new string of whispers started.
"Heir to the Demon's Head."
"Talon."
"The Gray Son."
"Who would have believed it?"
"One of us."
"All this time."
"Apprentice."
"Renegade."
And as the pair left the room, Robin turned around to look at his friends one last time and gave a whisper of his own.
"Forgive me."