Disclaimer: All copyright and credit goes to the original creators of the Teen Titans, Batman, and the DC Universe. This is for entertainment purposes only! I do not own any of the characters!

Author's note: Thanks to everyone that Reviewed/Favorited/Followed! I appreciate the support and the feedback!

Alright, I finished this a day earlier than I expected. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 8

A Gamble with the Enemy

Stray rays of the morning sunlight filtered in from the long wall of dingy windows and shone over the disordered room. The heavy man sat down in his chair and leaned back. He threw his muddy feet on top of the decrepit desk, crushing stray papers under his legs. The tattered room was being to cave in on itself. The sheer amount of clutter and grime overwhelmed the small space in a foul odor, and the warped walls slanted at precarious angles. The man, unaffected by the mess, reached into his coat pocket. As he pulled out a sleek, black phone, the poor, oblivious soul remained blissfully unaware of the gun that honed in on his back.

Slade Wilson watched as the man clumsily fumbled with his phone and smashed it against his ear. The mercenary took in the whole situation in the span of a few seconds. The room his target had chosen for an office was situated on an empty alleyway and therefore away from the prying eyes of the public. The bullet-proof glass gave the man a false sense of confidence as he considered himself to be safe from any assassination attempts.

Slade scoffed and rolled his eye.

He had developed a gun years ago that sliced through bullet-proof glass like butter. The masked man propped his gun up on the edge of the building and peered into the scope. It narrowed in on the ignorant crime lord.

Another contract.

Another death.

Another man with no chance at redemption.

Slade Wilson didn't believe in redemption. He didn't believe that people could change their ways, or repent for their actions. The world was a cruel place filled with evil, deceit, and betrayal. Once a person started down a dark path, he or she could no longer return to the light.

He was living proof of this fact.

The only way to stay ahead was to show no mercy. And as the red screen Slade looked through locked onto his target, the masked man felt nothing.

Another contract.

Another death.

He tightened his finger around the trigger and felt his Kevlar armor shift from his slight movement. Sunlight was beginning to streak through the hesitant morning air, and Slade dug his elbows in the grimy ground, steadying his aim.

One second and it would be over.

Another contract.

Another death.

Another vile man eliminated from the world.

The thought crossed Slade's mind as he observed the disgusting man in his scope. Anthony "Tony" Zucco was a new mobster that had moved to Jump. Normally, Deathstroke wouldn't concern himself with such low-level thugs, but word had gotten out about Zucco's reputation, and it wasn't one Slade appreciated.

This guy had taken things to an all new low. The man had no honor, nor dignity. He played dirty and had begun to taint Jump with his malicious intent. It seemed all the man had to do was breathe and something bad would happen.

So when the opportunity had arisen to eliminate the man, Slade seized it.

The irony was – Slade missed the opportunity. Had the masked man pulled the trigger three seconds earlier or three seconds later, Tony Zucco would have taken his last breath of air. But at the exact moment Slade's finger pulled the trigger, a loud beep echoed from the comm in his mask. That small noise made Slade, ever so slightly, jerk the gun to the right. The bullet flew through the air and smashed into the glass, leaving behind spider-web like cracks. But as it neared Tony Zucco, it sailed millimeters away from the man's head and instead carved its way uselessly into the decrepit wall.

Slade swore as realization slammed into him. He had missed. He never missed. It simply didn't happen. Deathstroke never failed a mission. Within the space of two heartbeats, he swiftly fired off two more shots. But with surprising reflexes, Tony had already dropped to the ground and the bullets sailed harmlessly into the walls. An alarm screeched through the air and large, steel panels dropped down over the windows, locking his target away from view.

So the man wasn't as big of an idiot as he thought.

His gun may be able to penetrate bullet-proof glass, but five inch steel panels were a different story. Slade growled, strapped his gun over his back, and reached for the Katana sword hanging from his hip. Looks like he was going to have to do this the hard way. With a deft ease, the man flicked the sword out of its sheath and revealed it to the morning light. He was about to leap off of the rooftop when a thought occurred to him.

Why the hell had his comm beeped in the first place? He had shut down his comm link before the mission had begun…

Slade flipped open a hatch on his wrist, a screen blinked to life, and the man let out a deep, venomous growl. The new robot he had built while away in Paris had reactivated his comm. What did the security system not understand about radio silence?

'Authorization required for entrance to haunt. Robin – Teen Titan's Leader.'

Slade froze as the words transmitted through his ear piece. For a brief few seconds the man hardly moved. So the boy finally decided to pay his him a visit – without the Titans nonetheless. The sun was beginning to creep over the sky as a slow, malicious smirk spread over his face. Wonder what could have dragged the little bird back to his master?

"Transmit visual image," Slade commanded and watched as a screen lit up from his wrist.

'Transmitting.'

His eyes flickered to the building, and Slade quickly dismissed it, putting away his Katana sword. Zucco could wait. The scum of a man didn't deserve to be alive, but he could always assassinate the crime boss later. Robin on the other hand…

The man quickly bounded across the rooftop and jumped off the edge. He soared down through the air and landed on the concrete with a loud crash. The hard material fractured and split under the powerful impact as the man rose, unharmed and unperturbed, to his feet. The sunlight barely penetrated into the dark alleyway as Slade Wilson walked towards his car. The sleek, solid black vehicle was tucked away in the shadows and its smooth lines wrapped and twisted around it. The seamless invention had taken years for Slade to build, but it had been worth the masked man's time.

The car had over a thousand sensors built in to its metal, Kevlar alloy. The sensors fully integrated itself with Slade's suit so that the two machines could function together seamlessly while still retaining full independence. Its weapon arsenal was ranged and varied, and its defense shielding was practically impenetrable.

It put the Batmobile to shame.

The man pressed his gloved hand against the car door and millions of tiny metal pieces slid back, revealing the driver's seat. Slade slid inside as the pieces reformed the door of the car, locking him in. An image glowed to life on his wrist, and as the screen filled his vision, the masked man felt every muscle in his body freeze.

That was Robin alright.

But the boy looked like he was on the edge of death.

Slade's single gray eye took in the ragged and bloody boy. Robin's masked eyes did little to conceal the pain that racketed through his slim body. Slade's highly trained senses kicked into overdrive and analyzed the boy's fast, deteriorating condition. Blood poured at an alarming rate from his shoulder. Numerous fractured and broken ribs laced his torso. Second degree burns surrounded his arms. Multiple cuts and bruises covered his body. And with each shuddering breath the boy took, Robin appeared to be getting worse.

Questions flooded through the masked man's head in a massive wave. What had happened? Where were the Titans? What trouble had the boy gotten into now? And what had possessed Robin to show up half-dead at his enemy's doorstep? Really, had the boy gone insane?

"Approved," Slade gruffly ordered into his communicator. A whirling response transmitted from the robot, and the image died on the screen. Thoughts raced through the masked man's head as he debated the fasted way to get back to the haunt. Even with the car traveling at its fastest speed, it would take a maximum of six minutes to arrive back at his hideout.

The man growled as the car processed his thoughts and sped into action. Robin didn't have six minutes – the boy maybe had four – at best. His concerned thoughts turned into a dark, ominous wrath. Slade swore to himself as a venomous anger flowed through his veins.

Whoever had done that to his little bird was going to pay.

And Slade Wilson always kept his promises.

Beeping.

A persistent, annoying beeping drummed in the boy's ears.

Robin's eyes flickered open, and the darkness faded away. A high, ominous ceiling with soaring rafters greeted his fuzzy eyes. His mind was a tangled mess of thoughts and images as he tried to piece together his memories.

What had happened...

His eyes flickered around at this this strange and unusual place. A soft, cushioned material conformed to his body, as the boy shifted slightly. Oddly enough, he felt safe.

The boy suddenly became aware of many things at once. A tight bandage had been wrapped around his shoulder, an IV had been inserted into his arm, and an oxygen mask had been placed over his face. The cool air flowed in and out of his lungs with a continuous ease. The boy shifted slightly again and felt some of his muscle groan under the effort, but besides the residual soreness, he felt normal. His hands hesitantly pulled the mask off of his face and inhaled deeply. The warm air traveled smoothly throughout his lungs, and the boy let out a soft grin. No longer need this… He tossed the oxygen mask away and sat up in the reclined chair.

The smile instantly died from his face.

Everything slammed into him in a mad rush. He pressed his arms down into the chair as his body was overwhelmed by intense bombardment of memories.

Catwoman extending her hand out to him. A single note that shone in the faint moonlight. A dark raven encasing a friend. Betrayed faces. Batman. The enemy of his nightmares. A door. A gun shot. A failure.

Slade…

The single words burned into his mind and caused alarm to rush into every fiber in his boy's small body. Panic and pounding fear flooded his senses and natural reflexes took over as Robin sprung out of the chair. The IV was wrenched out of his arm at this sudden action while his feet hit the ground with a rush of momentum. His legs however were not prepared for the sudden movement, and Robin let out a cry of alarm as they collapsed under the unexpected weight.

But instead of falling to the ground, two powerful arms caught him and wrapped around his chest in a firm yet gentle hold. Panic consumed the boy's senses as he instinctively tried to yank himself free. Instead he was only rewarded with a small, stab of pain from him shoulder that caused him to let out a strangled gasp of surprise. His body went limp as he was lowered down back into the chair.

Robin squeezed his eyes shut as terror and fear flooded through him in large, ravenous, crashing waves. He had passed out! Passed out for crying out loud in Slade's haunt – of all blasted places! The boy let out a string of curses in his mind. Batman would never forgive him for being this careless. The boy could already imagine Bruce's disapproving glare…

Two solid hands gripped Robin's wrists and pressed them into the arms of the chair, drawing him back to the present. Robin didn't need to be a detective to figure out who had him in this powerful hold. The boy could recognize the omnipotent aura and the authoritative presence anywhere. A smooth voice wrapped around the boy in a tight grasp and infiltrated his mind, confirming his suspicions.

"Robin. Look at me."

Panic rolled through his body in rushing waves as his heart pounded like large drums in his chest. He was a complete idiot for coming here. What had possessed him to come to Slade – freaking Slade – of all the millions of people? Heat burned his face as he felt Slade's cold, haunting eye burrow into him. He was at the man's complete and utter mercy right now, and Robin knew from experience that the man virtually had none.

The grips on his wrists tightened like venomous, constricting snakes.

"Now."

The word stabbed through his heart like a sharp dagger. The man's impatience was like another person in the room – Robin felt as if he could reach out and touch it. Knowing it was inevitable, the boy slowly looked up to face the black and orange mask that haunted his nightmare. Silence cut through the air as hero and villain faced each other. A heavy and foreboding air swirled around the two figures as Slade leaned forward, narrowing his stormy, gray eye.

"Unless you wish to injure yourself further, I do not suggest you move from this chair."

After a moment's pause, the masked man released his grip, turned around, and calmly walked toward the table while he folded his hands behind his back. Robin opened his mouth and promptly slammed it shut as all words left his mind. His eyes dug holes into the powerful figure's back. He had been expecting a menacing comment, a threat to his life, a taunting remark…not a warning…

"Tell me Robin, why are you here?"

The boy's hands clenched the arms of the chair and felt the black leather crunch under the movement. The question cut straight to the heart of the matter. His mouth became filled with a deep, dryness as he tried to find the words he needed to explain himself. The shock and swiftness of the situation had left the boy floundering in a sea of thoughts.

Robin leaned forward, tense and alert as his sharp eyes watched Slade's hands moved over the table, searching for something. The boy's voice came out strained, but grew stronger with each word as he effectively answered a question with another question.

"What are you doing?"

Slade turned around, his gray eye flickering with a dark amusement.

"I asked first."

Like a predator advancing towards prey, the masked man strode toward Robin with a small object concealed in his hand. Steady footsteps drew closer as fear, which had manifested into a single man, advanced toward the flustered boy. Robin pushed himself out of the chair, as the haunting presence drew near, and he desperately tried to rise to his feet. A strong hand gripped his bicep, and a needle was forcefully injected into his arm.

The boy mentally swore and instinctively tried to jerk away. However, Slade held him in an iron hold and in a flustered panic, the boy merely lost his footing and stumbled. As Robin dangled from Slade's powerful grasp, the needle bit into his skin, and released whatever toxin the psychopath had planned for him.

"Sit."

The sharp word dug into Robin's mind and sparked forth a deep rooted irritation. The needle fell noiselessly to the floor as Slade slackened his grip, and the boy wrenched out of his grasp. Robin stumbled back, throwing his hands up into a weak fighting position. His breaths came in ragged, rushed gasps, and the boy met the cold scrutiny of Slade's eye with a fiery anger.

"What the hell did you inject me with?" Robin screamed as Slade merely stood motionless and watchful.

"Sit and I'll tell you," the smooth voice replied. The man crossed his arms as he held the boy under a thick glare.

Robin flinched but did not back down from his position.

"I will not sit down until you tell me what was in that blasted needle!"

In a blinding flash the man was inches away from Robin's face. Robin cried out in surprise and threw a hasty punch. Slade caught the attack and grabbed Robin's other arm before the boy could counter. Robin froze at the swift and unrelenting speed the man seemed to breathe at. Fear crawled in spiking chills down his spine as Slade's deep and thin voice sliced through the air.

"It was not a suggestion, Robin. Sit down, or I will make you obey."

Cold, gray and fiery blue. The differing eyes clashed in a battle of wills as Robin's former rebellious nature returned, pushing away the pounding fear. He would not let Slade control him like this. He would not let the masked man manipulate him into obedience through fear.

Not again.

Not like the last time…

"I don't have to listen to you, Slade," Robin snapped.

Bad move.

The man's eye flashed with a dark fire, and his hand tightened around Robin's fist. He spun the boy around, crossing the boy's arms around his own body. He locked the weak arms together and lifted Robin off the ground in a fluid, controlled motion. The boy gasped in shock and thrashed against uncomfortable hold. His resistance was ultimately futile and in a matter of seconds he was harshly shoved onto the leather chair. Slade turned around and marched back toward the table, his footsteps heavy and severe.

"Do not move."

The command scorched his ears as shock echoed through Robin's thin frame. He hadn't been able to even put up a fight against the man. What had happened to him? Shame and humiliation burned his cheeks. When had he become so weak and helpless?

"The needle contained a serum of my own design. Among other things, it will help your blood cells reproduce faster," the man said, his smooth voice washing over Robin.

The only sound that filled the room was the grinding of the metal gears as Robin debated Slade's statement. The man could be lying – Robin wouldn't put it past him. The masked man could have injected him with any toxin imaginable – in fact Slade could have injected him with a number of life threatening diseases or poisons. The boy subconsciously rubbed his hand against his bandaged shoulder as his thoughts mulled over all of the possibilities.

"Don't rub it. I just got it to stop bleeding."

Robin removed his hand and looked up.

"What else did you do?" the young boy whispered while narrowing his eyes. Fear. Fear and suspicion laced his words. He had been unconscious for who knows how long in the hands of his worst enemy. Slade could have done anything to him. The very thought at being powerless before his arch enemy sent chills crawling down the young boy's spine.

"I did what was necessary to keep you alive, Robin."

The boy glanced down at the breathing mask on the floor. He knew that he hadn't woken up hooked up to a breathing mask and an IV because he had been feeling a little weak. Without Slade's help – wanted or not – he would be dead. He could only pray the man was speaking the truth. He could only pray that Slade hadn't done something more to him.

What was it worth anyway – saving his life? His soul grew heavy as he rested his head in his hands. This was all so messed up. Why hadn't the man just let him die? Why had Slade helped him? The man had tried countless times before to kill him so why did he hold back now, when Robin had been on the edge of death's door?

The boy shifted in his seat as his eyes flickered up to examine the man. Slade's back was turned toward him, but that didn't make him any less frightening. Power and strength seemed to roll off of his form in pounding waves.

"So why are you here Robin? Passing out in your archenemy's hideout unarmed isn't the smartest choice you've made," Slade said without turning around.

Robin sighed as he clenched his hands together, biting back a scathing remark. The mocking tone swirled through the dark, ominous haunt, and burned into the boy's ears.

"I'm not known to make smart choices, Slade," Robin muttered, his tone short and terse.

"Clearly. But you're avoiding the question. Why are you here?"

Robin sighed at the man's persistence and dragged his hand down his face. The words died on his lips as the young boy remained silent. The fluid ticking of the gears traveled through the space as the boy felt a suffocating presence wrap around his throat. Admitting defeat was hard enough for the prideful boy, but admitting defeat to his worst enemy was almost impossible.

"I asked you a question, Robin," Slade snapped, an edge of impatience laced through his words.

The boy clenched his hands together and opened his mouth. No words came though, and Robin mentally screamed at himself. He could fight Slade to the end of the world yet he couldn't open his blasted mouth and talk like a civilized being. It felt as if an impenetrable wall had been thrown up in his mind, and every time a word came to mind, it slammed into the wall and was thrown back.

Slade paused in his movements and cocked his head to the side.

"Why aren't you answering me…Apprentice?"

That one word.

That single word caused a flood of emotions to snap inside Robin. The wall broke as a rushing wave of fury, rage, and grief slammed into it. Volcanic anger erupted inside of him and flowed from his body as he jumped to his feet. Everything boiled down to that one word. All of his fear, all of his horror, and all of his anxiety stemmed from that one, haunting word – apprentice.

"I AM NOT YOUR APPRENTICE, SLADE."

Robin's hands burned with his fiery anger as they itched with a strong desire to strike the man. He wanted to hit him so hard the freaking mask would cave in on his insolent head. How he would love to see this monster behind bars for the rest of his life. How he would love to see the man suffer as he had. How he would love to destroy the vile being before him.

But he couldn't.

The crushing thought hammered into the boy's head, and he took a staggering step back as an emptiness washed over him. He needed Slade's help. He needed Slade to save Batman. He needed his worst nightmare.

Robin lowered his eyes to the ground as a crushing defeat settled in his bones. His shoulders sagged under the intense burden that crashed down on him. He wasn't a hero. He couldn't even defeat his own arch enemy let only save his mentor. Robin stopped five feet away from Slade and dropped his arms to his sides as all his anger, fire, and hate for this man disappeared.

He had failed his team.

He had failed Batman.

And now he had failed himself.

A dark chuckled floated through the haunt as the masked man slowly turned around. The single, ominous gray eye narrowed in on the boy.

"Now, Robin. An apprentice always comes back to his master," Slade mocked. His deep and bottomless voice echoed through the haunt and into the boy's mind.

Sharp, blue eyes shot up.

"I. Am. Not. Your. Apprentice. Slade."

Robin snapped each word off like he was breaking a brittle twig. The masked man took an imposing step forward and pressed his hands behind his back.

"Then why are you here?"

Checkmate.

He had been talked into a corner. The boy sighed as he realized avoiding the question was now inevitable – unless he wanted to accept being the psychopath's apprentice. Robin's blue eyes rose from the floor and locked onto Slade's gray eye. Memories flooded back into his mind as he spoke the next words.

"Slade," Robin's voice came out as a whisper. "I need your help."

There. He had said it. The five most humbling words in the universe. They burned his tongue and mouth with shame and disbelief. Robin let his hands fall softly to his side as he felt everything come crashing down around him.

"Why?"

Cold words of truth pierced into the boy and rolled off of his tongue. "Because I have no one else to turn too," he whispered softly.

"The Titans?"

Robin sighed and turned away, the torn cape flashing at his heels. His voice was drained of all emotion as he spoke the next words. "The Titans wouldn't know how to deal with this threat. And-" the boy broke off struggling to finish the sentence. His voice sounded very hollow and strained as he choked out the next words.

"And I don't want them to get hurt."

"Superman? Wonder Woman? The Justice League?" Slade questioned, his deep voice washing over the boy's fragile body.

"I haven't spoken to them since..." Robin trailed off as his eyes dropped to his hands. Since I came to Jump. He quickly shook off the thought however and looked back up at Slade. "Even then, they're out on a mission. I keep tabs on them when I can."

Robin watched as masked man mused over the information. His gray eye stared off into the distance, calculating.

"Who?"

The single question floated through the dense air.

Robin gestured towards his utility belt on Slade's table. "Third pocket from the left," the boy said as a feeling of dread flitted over him.

The masked man turned back to the table and grabbed the bloody belt. He found the pocket with relative ease and clicked it open. The feeling of dread and anxiety increased in volume as the haunting note burrowed into Robin's eyes. That flimsy, little sheet of paper had turned his entire world upside down. A heavy weight settled in his heart, and he stumbled back, moving toward the steps and placing his head in his hands. Would the world's ultimate criminal mastermind offer his assistance to help save Batman? Batman – of all people. Robin sighed as his chances of receiving any help looked very slim.

Slade's eye scanned over the note.

Robin waited in heavy silence and closed his eyes as a wave of acceptance rolled over him. This was his last chance. If Slade didn't help him, the boy didn't know what he would do. He was at the end of his rope. He couldn't continue on alone. He no longer had any fight left in him.

In a crushing movement, the note was smashed in Slade's closed hand, and Robin's eyes flashed open.

"Who gave this to you?" the man growled, whipping around. His voice was deathly low and filled with a venomous, unchecked anger. The sudden mood swing caught the Boy Wonder completely off guard.

"Who gave this to you!" the masked man yelled, advancing on the boy. Robin pushed himself back as the wrathful presence grew closer. He help up his hands innocently as the next words came out in a mumbled rush.

"C-Catwoman! She g-gave me the note, and so-"

"So you went after the joker alone! Do you have a death wish boy?" Slade hissed, grabbing Robin by his uniform and hoisting the boy to his feet. The words were colder than ice and wound up Robin's spine and into the boy's thundering heart. He had seen Slade mad. He had seen the man angry.

But this, this was something else entirely.

The man was absolutely ravenous. Pure fury radiated off of him in crushing waves as his hand tightened around Robin's torn and tattered uniform. Slade's single eye darkened with a deep intensity and the bottomless orb glared at Robin with anger so deep and fierce, it sent chills racketing through the boy's small form.

"H-How'd you know it w-was the J-Joker?" Robin stuttered, trying very hard not to completely have a mental breakdown.

Slade's eye flashed with a sudden emotion, and he dropped the boy, turning away. Robin scurried out of the wrathful man's reach and backed away as an answer reached his ears.

"Only one person calls, Batman - Batsie," Slade scoffed exhaling an angry huff of air.

The ticking of the gears filled the awkward silence as Robin shifted his feet uncertainly. He hadn't the expected the man to react the way he had. He had expected Slade to taunt him, mock him, and perhaps even laugh at him, but he never had guessed that the man would be furious at him…

To say the boy was confused was a huge understatement.

Robin shrugged away his thoughts and focused on the task ahead of him. It didn't matter how Slade reacted, it only mattered to Robin that the masked man helped him rescue Batman. Warm air filled his lungs as he prepared his next words. They clung to his body, and it took all of Robin's strength and determination to drag them out his burning mouth and shove them into the air.

"Will you help me?" the boy asked. His voice was low and steady and fell on the floor with loud, echoing thuds. He shifted his feet as silence and the perpetual, ticking gears greeted his vulnerable words. Seconds dashed by. Minutes walked past. A drop of sweat rolled off of Robin's forehead and smacked down on the concrete floor as he waited for the answer that could save him….

Or break him.

The masked man slowly turned around. A gray eye peered at the boy and fixed him under a steely glare. Robin didn't move. He didn't flinch. He didn't blink. He didn't breathe. He simply waited as still as a ghost as Slade said his next words. The man's voice was deep and dark. Each syllable was drawn out in the deadening silence as the two figures observed each other.

"And why should I help you, Robin?"

The words slammed into the boy. That was it. That was the question Robin couldn't answer without unwanted consequences. The glass wall of illusions shattered around him like a cascading wave, and the shards rained down, falling into his heavy hands. He had been foolish to think Slade would help him without something in return. The man held all the cards in this game, and it was one Robin couldn't win. He couldn't rescue Batman alone, and he couldn't get Slade to help him.

But the young boy was desperate enough to try.

"I'll grant you immunity from all your past crimes."

A dark chuckled filled the air and Robin felt the glass shards dig into his skim.

"Robin, I am a wanted man, and no force has been able to put behind bars – let alone find me. I don't need immunity. I need an ap-"

Robin immediately cut him off with a raised hand and sighed. He had been right. There was only one thing that Slade wanted.

And it was the one thing Robin couldn't give the man.

Blue eyes blared from underneath the mask and looked at Slade's calculating eye. He had given it a shot at least. Slade would never help him without a price – one that he couldn't afford to pay. The boy took in a deep, shuddering breath and turned away from the man as memories flashed before his eyes.

Catwoman extending her hand out to him.

He had no choice now. He had no options left. All of his cards had been played, and he had lost. A tattered, gloved hand rubbed his mask, feeling the smooth material run under his cold fingers. His feet carried him forward as Robin dejectedly walked away.

A single note that shone in the faint moonlight.

"Robin?"

A dark raven encasing a friend.

The words stopped the retreating boy and in a whirl, he whipped around. Desperation was like a tangible object, and it crawled around his feet, writhing in pain. It laced his voice and body in an overwhelming control as he faced his greatest enemy.

Betrayed faces.

"I have nothing that can make you help me," Robin said, his voice cracking with defeat. "Nothing. I won't be your apprentice. So don't even ask," the boy whispered, staring down at his hands.

Batman.

"Asking you for help is a crime in itself, Slade. But…I'm desperate. I can't beat the joker alone. Trust me I tired," the boy continued. He grimaced and touched his bandaged shoulder.

The enemy of his nightmares.

"So you won't become my apprentice, even if it means Batman's death?"

The voice mocked him. It taunted him. It buried itself in the young boy's mind and set fire to every hope that remained.

A door.

Robin hesitated and stared deep into Slade's gray eye.

"I'll die before he does," he whispered, his blood running cold.

A gun shot.

"Now Robin, that's not certain. He could be dead long before you finally rescue him."

"THEN I'LL DIE WITH HIM."

A failure.

Fire burned in his eyes as he stared at the man. He couldn't – just couldn't call Slade his Master. He couldn't sacrifice his freedom to be chained to this man. He couldn't sacrifice his morals to a man that had none. He couldn't sacrifice himself for the man who had raised him.

Was he really so selfish that he would let Batman die?

The answer was yes. If it meant calling Slade his master, then the answer was yes. A tear slipped past the boy's mask and hit the ground with a chilling thud. This was a path he could not walk. This was a storm he could not weather. This was a problem he could not solve.

This was the Boy Wonder's defeat.

"I'm done, Slade. I have nothing left."

The words were empty. They were hollow husks that hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces. Robin unclenched his hands and imagined the glass shards falling to the floor. He stood in the middle of his own ruins. Remnants of the past and fears of the future. Everything around him was shattered and broken, and the boy no longer had the energy or strength left to put them back together.

Failures seemed to haunt his life. His parent's had died because he had failed to protect them. And now, Batman was going to suffer the same fate, because he was too weak to save the man. The crushing weight of defeat merged into his tired bone, and Robin fell to his knees. A cry of pain escaped his dry lips and echoed through the still air, burning the boy with pain.

A failure…

The words haunted his mind and cloaked him in a shadow of darkness. The boy's thoughts drifted from his body as pressed his hands into the hard, cold, unforgiving concrete. He had failed, and there was nothing else he could do. Nothing mattered anymore. No one could help him. He was alone – alone in a world with no mercy.

Soft footsteps approached the boy and pushed back the depressing wave that enveloped him. A presence knelt down in front of him. The boy didn't look up. He didn't want to see that gray, condemning eye. He didn't want to hear the man's mocking tone. He didn't want to face his enemy.

"I'll make you a deal, Robin. I'll offer you my assistance..."

Bit by bit, the boy raised his eyes to meet a single gray orb. Worn, blue. Steel, gray. Eyes separated by a lifetime of differences met each other in a steady gaze.

"In exchange for what?" Robin asked in a dry and weary tone.

The black and orange armor shifted and twisted as Slade leaned back on his heels and pressed his hands against his knees.

"Nothing."

The word spun around in the air and settled in front of Robin's hands.

"Consider it a favor."

"A favor…always has to be returned. A risk…" Robin whispered while staring at the words before him.

"The question is, is the risk worth it?"

Silence settled between the hero and the villain as each considered the words that had been spoken. Slade rose to his feet and stood before the broken boy.

Robin's eyes remained locked on the ground. Could he do this? Could he put his trust in the hands of his enemy? Everything was so confusing. He didn't know what to do, and he didn't know who to trust. His mind was a chaotic haze of confusion and turmoil as everything swirled together in a blinding light.

But one fact overwhelmed everything else.

He needed help.

Even if it came in the form of his arch enemy.

Bright blue. Stormy gray.

"Deal."

The single word left an acid taste in Robin's mouth, but the crushing weight on his shoulders lessened slightly as a placid wave washed over him. A gloved hand extended out to him and he hesitated. Slowly, the broken boy reached up and placed his small hand inside the much larger one.

"We have much to plan."

As Robin was hoisted to his feet, the boy could only hope he had made the right decision.

Bright blue. Stormy gray.

He could only hope.

Author's Note: This chapter was hard to write. I hope I got everything right. Sorry, if Slade seems a little OOC...his actions will be better explained in the next chapter!

Next update: Hopefully Friday or Saturday! I have a busy week ahead of me so I may not have time to write.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!