Thursday, 3 December ~* Lesson *~

Robin woke with a start. He had dreamt about Slade. It had been a nightmare. Maybe. He felt his jaws ache. He must have clenched them in his sleep. He rolled over on his stomach and hit his pillow in frustration. Why, WHY was he back? Why now, why when he had started to feel…. Ok, again!?

After Trigon, Slade had become more of a kinda-sorta ally than an enemy to the Titans. Especially as he revealed that he had been able to save Terra, although she had unfortunately, or fortunately, lost her memory and powers and were now living like a normal teen. Slade had scored more points with them when he had helped them to defeat the Brotherhood of Evil, and slowly things had started to change between them. Or maybe, Robin had later thought, it had always been there, but now he was ready and able to let himself feel it. They had become… close. And then… Robin shook his head, trying to clear it of the memories, pushing them aside. Slade was a complete and utter bastard. He had learned that now, once and for all. He wouldn't let himself be fooled again.

It was five in the morning, but he couldn't sleep anymore. He rolled out of bed, careful not to turn the lights on. He had spoken to the owners of the restaurant, letting them know not to give out any information about him no matter who asked, but Slade would suspect that he was living close by. He might be watching the building, and he knew Robin very seldom slept in. He therefore went through is morning workout regime in the dark and then took a long, hot shower. The bathroom, luckily, didn't have any windows, so he didn't have to do that in the dark as well. When he was done it was almost six-thirty and he heard some of his neighbors waking up. It should be 'safe' to turn the lights on now, but he strategically closed the blinds by the window he worked at before doing so. Closing all the blinds would look suspicious too. Robin chuckled to himself. Trying to avoid Slade sure made one neurotic. And he also knew it wouldn't help. Slade would find him sooner or later, probably sooner, whatever he did. But at least he could make it a little bit frustrating for the man.

The silence was the one thing he loved most when it came to living on his own. He thought he'd get lonely, that he'd grow tired of it after a while, but so far, he hadn't. He put the kettle on, something else he had been given by Alfred, and made some porridge in the microwave. He sweetened the porridge with banana, a sturdy and healthy breakfast, grabbed an orange to go with it, and fixed the tea. Today's flavor was raspberry, and after a sip he decided that he liked it. It went well with his fruit-themed breakfast.

He carried his breakfast to the living room, placed it on a small table next to his reading chair and sat down, balancing the porridge and a book on his lap, idly reading, while enjoying the food. His eyes travelled to the window again, and again, though.

What did he need help with? His help?

He frowned and shook his head again. Not much later, his eyes were back at the window, but this time he was thinking about something else. Escape routes. Problem was; there was none. When he had been looking at apartments, he had willfully gone against all his 'hero-instincts'. He was a civilian, so he didn't need an apartment on the top floor with easy access to the roof. He didn't need a building with ledges and nifty features like gargoyles to provide hand- and footholds for climbing, or places for his grapple hook to fasten. So, he was now trapped. This building was fairly modern, with a smooth façade. It had one way in and one way out. That was it. No way to try to sneak anywhere. Dammit. He shook his head again. One hour to class. He needed to focus.

He didn't have work that night and his fridge was full, so he didn't have to go out. Of course, he was aching for a run after a long day in front of the computer, but he just knew Slade would find him if he even poked his nose outside.

He paced the apartment after trying to read, watch Netflix and even game a bit. Nothing satisfied his urge to move. At around eight he finally snapped.

"Fuck it! He's gonna find me anyway!" he grunted to himself.

He threw on his running clothes and a facemask, and left the apartment. He fully expected the mercenary to pop out of thin air the moment he stepped out on the street, but that didn't happen. Slade still hadn't shown up an hour later, when Robin returned home.

Good, he thought to himself. But it didn't match the way he felt.

To be Continued…