Saturday, 5 December ~* Life,*~

It was past midnight and it had been a long day. Week. Year. Robin closed his eyes briefly. "I woke up and you were gone," he said softly.

"I know." The man's voice had a soft quality to it too.

"It… it was… it was our first… my first…" He had to stop himself, because he felt all that pain flowing back, and tears welling up into his eyes.

"I know. Robin, I'm back. And I'm going to make them pay. The people who took me. I've tracked them here."

"How… How long did… when did you escape?"

"Two weeks."

"TWO WEEKS?! You don't even- mmmpf!" Slade had put a hand over his mouth, and amused expression in his eye.

"Easy there. You were the one disappearing this time, remember? I suspected you had come back here, but I knew the people I'm after would try to wipe their tracks, I had to move quickly. I had to… prioritize."

"Great. Thanks," the teen said sarcastically when Slade removed his hand.

"Deal with it. This is serious. If these people aren't stopped, the world would long for the days it only had Corona to worry about."

The teen knew that objecting to that claim would make him look selfish, so he didn't. "Tell me what's going on, then. And why do you need my help?"

"I need access to the Batcave. The computer system specifically. And Bruce is most likely not a fan right now, is he?"

"Was he ever?" the former hero muttered. Batman did know about them, as he had helped Robin to cope, and yeah… Slade should probably not ask on his own. "What do you need to do? Who are you trying to find and why?" he demanded to know, not willing to promise anything before he had all the details.

"The people who kidnapped me. Well, the actual people are dead, but the ones behind them. The core of the organization."

"And why-" Robin started but Slade chuckled.

"I'm going to answer all your questions if you just have a little patience, Robin. You don't mind if I still call you Robin, do you?"

"No. As long as we're not in public," the teen shrugged. "I'm having trouble thinking of myself as Dick Grayson anyway. But keep going. Why were you kidnapped?"

"Because of Corona."

"Corona hadn't even started back then!"

"The first reports came in in December last year. It took a few more months to reach the general public, but some people knew what it was even back then, and what was likely going to happen. They decided to round up meta humans with known healing abilities and… do tests on them."

"W-what?" Robin gaped, horrified. He reached out for the man briefly, but his hands dropped to his side again. "Are… are you okay?"

"Somewhat. They also wanted to see if they could create a cure or a vaccine from our tissue and blood. You can take quite a lot of that from someone who heals up afterwards."

"That's… that's… I mean… if it was voluntarily, because a cure or vaccine would be great, but…"

"They couldn't get anything like that to work. Unfortunately, they found something worse. The substance and the gene that made my transformation to a meta human possible. The other people in that experiment died, I survived. These people now know how and why, and they might be able to replicate it."

"Super human army?" Robin asked.

"In today's day and age that might be wasting resources. Warfare isn't so much about manpower anymore, after all… but a fleet of assassins, at the beck and call of one power? They can cripple a country in hours, as long as they are sent to kill the right targets. And if the power behind them already have installed their own people to take over, a country can practically be signed over to another within days. A takeover with minimal damage, granted, but still."

"And… they are here? In Gotham?"

"I… asked a select few of the people in the base I was being kept, and they all confirmed that samples had been sent here. I destroyed that base, completely, but I need to find the rest too. And to do that, I need help. The computer in the Batcave can help me search."

Robin just sorted through things for a moment and then nodded.

"Of course. Now?"

"Time is of the essence, but I'm meeting a contact soon, who might have more information that I need. Go home, sleep, I'll come by your place tomorrow."

"You know where I live?" Robin asked, not really doubting it, but wanting to confirm.

"Of course," Slade smirked and suddenly pulled him close. "So… now when you know the truth…" the purred. "Missed me?"

The teen pushed him away, almost in a panic.

"I- I don't- I can't-" the started. He then aimed for the door. "I have to go!"

The teen battled with his feelings all the way home. He did trust Slade to have told the truth, it wasn't that. If Slade would have made up an excuse, it would never be one that painted him as a victim like that, nor would he involve Batman. He should be able to just let it go, as there was nothing to forgive. Slade hadn't intentionally hurt him. But the thought of the man was so firmly connected to the pain he had felt, that it was now difficult for him to separate them. It was hard to see Slade as anything other than the monster he had painted him as for almost a year. He guessed he just needed some time…

He slept like a dead man for seven hours, waking up at eight in the morning. He made himself his tea, which today was a Ceylon black tea which was supposed to have soft caramel and cocoa notes, but Robin wasn't sure he could taste much of those.

Saturdays were usually free days for him. He tended to study, of course, but he usually didn't work. He also normally put in some extra effort into working out, but today he didn't want to leave the apartment, as he didn't know when Slade would show up. He had expected him in the morning, but the hours dragged by.

When the doorbell rang, he flew up from his chair. Outside, however, was no mercenary, but a small kid, maybe around ten.

"Hi, are you Grayson?" the boy asked.

"Um… yes?"

"I was supposed to give this to you, and you were supposed to give me money," he was told firmly, and was handed a grubby-looking piece of paper.

Robin took it and read it through. It was short and to the point.

'Can't make it today. Will be there tomorrow. S.'

"Great," Robin muttered.

"Sir? My money?" insisted the kid. Robin dug around, found him a few dollar bills, and closed the door. At least it was nice of Slade to send word, although why didn't the man just call? Robin then realized that he probably didn't have his number. At least this meant that he didn't have to stay at home anymore, so he put on his running clothes again. Maybe a good run would help him work through his feelings, he figured.

To be Continued…