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: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I always appreciate the feedback! Sorry this chapter is a day late!

To the guest that reviewed: Thank you for your awesome review! Yes, this story is NOT slash! So sorry if I didn't make it clear earlier!

Okay, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9

Footsteps

A steady silence fell through the haunt as the two figures moved like shadows among the ticking gears. They blended with the darkness until only their indistinct silhouettes could be seen. Faint moonlight cast strange rays of light around the vast space and every so often a black and orange figure ghosted between them.

Slade held back a growl of annoyance at the thoughts that bombarded his mind. A merciless criminal mastermind was not supposed to be thinking these things. The man quickened his pace in a vain attempt to outrun the traitorous thoughts and flowed effortlessly between the spinning gears. Sharp footsteps echoed from behind him, and the man held back an irritated sigh.

Another thing he had to work on with the boy…

Yes, Robin was incredibly talented at ghosting through enemy hideouts virtually unheard and unseen, but to Slade's highly trained ears, the boy sounded like an elephant stomping through a forest. There were too many things - way too many things - Slade felt the boy needed improvement on. Batman's training could only get Robin so far, and apparently it hadn't been enough to allow the boy to survive an encounter with the Joker. Why the boy even cared about Batman's life was beyond Slade. No matter how he looked at the situation, he just couldn't understand the boy's rash and unchecked actions.

An emotion whipped at Slade's feet, but the man quickly walked over it. He would not acknowledge that emotion. This mess was not his fault. He was not to blame for the situation.

Although a small voice inside of him said otherwise.

Slade growled and quickened his pace, leaving his thoughts behind in a fiery dust. No matter how fast he moved, no matter how smoothly he slid between the gears, no matter how many times he readjusted his mask, he could not shake the haunting image from his mind. It hung over him like a dark cloud and tainted his being with a thick emotion. Like a charging animal, the memory slammed into him, driving him back into the past fifteen nerve wracking hours…

Slade sprung from the car and within the space of a heartbeat was dashing through the haunt. Adrenaline pounded in his veins as he moved with an inhumane speed.

He couldn't be too late.

Not again.

Not this time.

He rounded the last bend in the gears and froze as a gruesome image burned into his eyes.

Blood dripping from the boy's shoulder and onto the gray concrete. A violent cough burning through the air. A shaking, hunched form trying to find a breath of air.

It was too similar. In a matter of seconds, Slade Wilson had been thrown violently back in time. Another face rose in front of his eye. Another hunched form. Another bloody wound. Another time. Another life. Another death he could not prevent. Another failure.

"GRANT."

The scream tore through the man's throat as his eyes seared with a scorching fire. A wave of emotion slashed through him and flung him back to the present. He blinked against the burning flames in his eyes as his mind spun in a chaotic haze. His heart wrenched with deeply buried pain that threatened to consume his body.

The boy in front of him was not Grant.

The boy in front of him was not his son.

Slade raced forward, closing the large distance between himself and Robin in the span of a few heartbeats. His strong arms wrapped around the boy and heaved him upward. His single eye took in his decrepit body and watched as air stopped flowing between Robin's lips.

This boy was not Grant.

But he would not fail Robin as he failed his son.

"Um, Slade?"

Slade Wilson jerked back to the present and felt his instincts kick into overdrive. With a wicked flash, Slade threw the intruder against the wall and pinned a knife to the infiltrator's throat.

"SLADE ST-"

The terrified scream was cut off with a straggled gasp, and Slade blinked. Like water washing away sand, his rabid eyes cleared, and a domino masked filled his vision. The man wrenched back, sheathing his knife and dropping the boy to the floor. Robin collapsed to the ground, inhaling deep, raspy breaths as his eyes shot up with a look of utter terror and horror.

"What the HECK WAS TH-that for?" Robin screamed, choking on his hoarse words.

Slade stood in numb silence as he released his grip on his knife and allowed his hands to fall to his sides. He hadn't been thinking. He had been so lost in thought; his mind had reacted automatically… The man hadn't even realized what he had been doing until Robin's scream had pierced through his mind.

"Are you trying to KILL ME!" the boy continued. His body shook uncontrollably as his arms pushed against the concrete.

Slade deftly stepped forward and grabbed Robin by the shoulder. The boy tensed under the touch and immediately flung himself out of the man's grasp. Robin wrenched away, his body shaking hysterically, and slammed his back into the gear behind him. His breathing shook his entire body and his chest rose in a rapid, unsteady rhythm.

For a few seconds, no one moved. The gears spun in a steady continuous motion. The lights flickered and flashed. The moon rose higher in the sky. Bright blue eyes gazed in a powerful terror at the man before him. Slade took another step forward and Robin threw his hands up defensively in front of himself.

"Stay away from me."

The words were shackled with fear and pain and flung like daggers towards Slade's heart. The man took a sharp step back as his mind was accosted by powerful memories. Time faded from view as he remembered another boy.

Another hunched form. Another bloody wound. Another time. Another life.

Robin…he was so much like…

Like a knife falling on a target, Slade sliced off his train of thought. The masked man hardened himself against the plaguing thoughts and emotions and took a vast step away from the small form in front of him. The step sealed off the cavern of emotions in his mind and locked away the haunting memories that tormented his life.

Robin's reaction was not his concern. The boy's fear and emotional havoc was not his problem. The only thing that mattered to Slade was that he completed his end of the deal. This was nothing more than business. Business as usual.

The man let out a deep, menacing growl that traveled through his entire body, shaking away his unwanted thoughts. At the noise, the boy pressed his back even harder against the towering gear, and tensed his arms. Slade held back a sigh of irritation and snapped around, stalking away like a pacing lion. With each step he took, he felt Robin's waves of fear decrease in volume, and the man shook his head to himself.

Why had he agreed to help a boy that feared him more than terror itself? Why had he agreed to save a man who was an enemy? Why had Deathstroke, the fearless terminator, crumbled to his own emotions when he saw Robin on the brink of death? Why had he let this weakness infiltrate his mind?

With a loud roar of frustration, Slade slammed his fist into a metal gear and felt the strong material cave under his brutal strength. His head turned to face the frozen boy, and his single gray eye narrowed into a dangerous slit. Rage and anger licked at his feet in a blinding haze.

"Learn to be prepared, Robin."

With a satisfying screech, the man removed his fist from the metal and turned around. The boy's eyes burned into his back as he walked into the shadows and disappeared.

He needed time to think.

He needed to be alone.

For five solid minutes, Robin didn't move. Everything inside of him had frozen with a heart pounding fear. The hard, metal gear smothered his presence with a shadowy safety as only one thought consumed the boy's mind.

What the heck had just happened?

He had simply said the man's name…and then BAM, he had a really sharp looking knife pressed against his throat. A chill raced down Robin's spine as he rubbed his skin tenderly. He could still feel the sting of the cold, metal blade.

Robin sighed and dragged a hand along his face. Slade had been so lost in thought, the man had reacted instinctively. Unfortunately, it just so happened that the man's instincts were both lethal and deadly.

The boy cringed and hesitantly pulled himself to his feet. As much as it seared his mind to accept it, he could understand Slade's action. He could understand the overpowering instinctual rush that swarmed one's mind. He could understand the few seconds of uncontrollable actions that dominated a person's body. He could understand the paralyzing realization of the action's one had just committed.

Robin grinned ruefully. The Titans were first-hand witnesses to Robin's panicked reflexes. Beast Boy and Cyborg had learned the hard way to never scare him after that horrendous April Fool's incident. There were still holes in the Tower's wall that had yet to be repaired.

The smile quickly died from his face as Robin ran a shaky hand through his hair. Fear and paranoia had honed his reflexes into a life-saving reaction, and as much as he hated them sometimes, his instincts kept him alive. He could never afford to be off his guard. He could never afford to relax. Robin's mind was constantly running, and it appeared the masked man was no different.

But seriously, Slade could have at least apologized. A simple 'sorry' would have been sufficient for the boy. Instead the psychotic man had the nerve to blame it on Robin's lack of 'being prepared'. Irritation flared up his body, and he clenched his hands together.

The egotistical man just didn't want to own up to his mistake.

Speaking of the psychotic mastermind…

The boy released his hands and glanced around. Slade was nowhere to be seen. A growl burned through Robin's lips. Why was everything so freaking difficult with Slade? Why couldn't the man just be normal? The boy snorted cynically. Nothing about this situation was normal. Nothing about his life was normal. Nothing was normal.

The growl rolled into a sigh as he rolled his tense shoulders. The boy stopped in surprise when no pain greeted the strong movement. In fact…he wasn't in any pain at all. His eyes traveled up and down his tattered and torn uniform and ran his hands along his ribs. Everything felt intact and unbroken. He glanced down at the crisp white bandage and curiosity burned inside of him. Soft fingers pulled away the tight bandage, and blue eyes widened in shock. The only indication of there being a wound was a light purple scar that covered his skin. He hesitantly prodded the area. And no pain - not even a wince - graced Robin's features. Smooth words flowed into his mind.

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

What exactly did that mean? What had the man done to him? The thoughts unleashed a torrent of questions in his mind. How long had he been unconscious? What time was it? What day was it? Were the Titans okay? Was Jump okay? Why hadn't he asked any of these questions earlier? Batman would be ashamed of him for glazing over much needed answers.

Robin waved away Bruce's condemning glare and hesitantly began moving through the gears in an unknown direction. He didn't know where he was going. He only knew he needed to find the man that could answer his questions. And if that meant ripping this place to shreds, then Robin would gladly volunteer for the job.

The lights flickered around him and the gears cast strange shadows across his feet. A chilling fear crawled up his back as his eyes flashed around the haunting space. This was unlike Slade to leave him alone for so long. Was the man…going to go back on his word? Was the masked man going to attack him now when he was most vulnerable? Had the twisted man just healed him so that he could have the pleasure of beating him to a pulp all over again?

These doubts twisted inside of the boy and wrapped around his tender heart. The man had given him his word. Slade had made a deal with him to help rescue Batman. The man wouldn't go back on his word now…would he? For the second time today, Robin dragged a hand down his face as he had no answers for his own questions.

Trust.

That's what everything came down to.

But how do you trust an enemy?

The answer was simple. You didn't. So then why was he here? Why had he come to Slade? Of all the millions of people in the world, he had chosen his arch enemy. His logic had made sense at the time, but now, the boy wasn't so sure it was as sturdy as he thought it to be. The criminal mastermind could easily overpower him in any fight, and with enough persuasion or proper blackmail could force him back into another apprenticeship. So how exactly was Robin supposed to trust a manipulative, psychotic mastermind that had the power to coerce him into doing traitorous tasks with a dangerous background record to prove it?

The boy shook his head and allowed the doubts to wash over him. The only thing he could rely on was Slade's promise. And even then the masked man could be lying. So why was Robin here? Why didn't he leave now when he still had the opportunity?

The lights flickered and swirled around him. Buried deep under layers of fear and denial, Robin knew the answer to his own question. There was something else – something else that kept him here. It was something his mind kept rejecting, but his heart knew to be true.

Slade had saved his life.

Despite the strange, questionable and unknown methods the man might have used, the man had saved him. When Robin had showed up half-alive on his doorstep, Slade had taken it upon himself to rescue the boy from the door of death. As insane and psychotic the man was, that had to count for something.

Right…?

Robin pressed on through the haunt, feeling the gears close in around him. A tangle of thoughts swirled around him in a cloudy haze, and the boy trudged through the treacherous had everything become so confusing? When had his life spiraled out of control? When had the world slipped through his fingers?

A flicker of light caught his eye, and his highly trained eyes narrowed in on the anomaly. He watched as it continued to flicker and mentally began to count to himself. Pieces began to fall together as he realized it flashed in an odd, continuous pattern. Almost like a beacon… Robin rounded a large, obstructive gear and ghosted into the shadows.

Strange. He had never seen this before.

The flickering light was directly above him and illuminated the narrow area before him. The long, slender space housed thin metal steps that appeared to have been bolted into the wall. The steps led up to a rust colored door made out of a thick, unusual material.

Like a ghost, he moved from the shadows and crept towards the stairs. Robin glanced around again, a haunting feeling crawling up his back. He could almost feel that single gray eye stare into his soul. Everything around him however, was calm and empty of all life. Slade was nowhere to be seen.

Curiosity itched Robin's skin and overtook all hesitancy and fear. He cautiously placed a foot on the floating stair and began to silently travel toward the door. His movements made no noise against the shiny, metal surface and like a specter, he traveled upward, higher and higher into the haunt.

Robin reached the small platform just before the door and stopped. He placed his hand on the cold metal and froze at a sharp hissing sound that echoed from behind him. The boy whirled around, reaching reflexively down for his bo-staff and swore when his hand grasped the shredded material of his uniform. His utility belt was still on the table in the center of the haunt. Just great. Just freaking great.

Bruce would be so proud.

Robin watched as the floating stairs slid back into the walls in a smooth, fluid motion. His eyes flashed to the ground far below him, and the boy let out a tired sigh. Well, there was no turning back now. Like crashing wave, his thoughts settled around him and his hand trailed down the smooth surface of the door. Time to find out what was behind door number one, the boy thought with an amused grin.

Hopefully it won't be a pissed off super villain…

Taking a deep breath, the boy settled his hands against the door and pushed. It swung open with a soft hiss and revealed a dimly lit room. Robin hesitantly stepped inside and felt everything in his mind freeze in disbelief.

What…what the heck?

Confusion crawled up his legs and wrapped around his body like a snake. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Completely dumbfounded, the boy gaped at the muted…living room?

A large brown couch and a thick, oak coffee table dominated the small area that opened up to a very large and well furbished kitchen. Dark tiled floor designated the kitchen area which was furnished with top of the line appliances and every utensil and tool known to man. A sleek, dark counter top flowed like water over the cabinets and drew the eye across the space. It was apparent that someone liked to cook. But the question was who? It couldn't be Slade. Robin had a hard enough time imagining the man making a sandwich – he could not and would not imagine the man cooking like a professional chef.

The boy took another hesitant step into the room, and the brown carpet absorbed his foot like a soft, fluffy cloud. A large bookshelf lined the living room wall, filled with weathered and worn books that had suffered the abuse of time. His hand trailed along the wooden bookshelf, and he examined his fingertips. Not a trace of dust.

Blue eyes flashed around the surprising space, absorbing every detail and feature. Everything was clean and well kept. Not a speck of dust could be found. Not a trace of dirt covered the floors. Not a hint of abuse echoed from the couch. The space was…perhaps dare he say it…homey?

"Shoes off please, young man."

The commanding voice snapped Robin out of his musings and slung him back to the present. An aged old man examined him with a discriminatory stare and puckered his lips. Two green, beady eyes narrowed in on his shoes as if they were an absolute catastrophe.

"Excused me?" Robin stuttered, vainly trying to process the fact that there was another human being in Slade's haunt and that this particular man had an issue with his shoes.

"Well, unless you want to vacuum up all the dirt you track in, be my guest! Wear your shoes!"

The man crinkled his nose in disgust, threw up his arms, and whirled away to the kitchen. His steps were short and lively, and the man bounded away with as much energy as a tornado. The aura in the space seemed to swirl around him in a blinding haze.

Robin looked down at his black boots and then down at the spotless carpet. His eyes flickered indecisively between the two as he debated whether or not to heed the man's advice.

"The vacuum is in the closet down the hall, young man."

Robin sighed at the persistent tone and slowly pulled off his scuffed and dirty shoes. His sharp, hawk-like eyes never left the perplexing man that stood in the center of the kitchen however. The enigmatic figure was certainly taller than Robin but the man was not quite Slade's towering height. His frame was thick and plump, probably from years of a sedentary retirement, but Robin saw the shadows of a long forgotten firm and lean build. The man's dark gray hair was well kept and slicked back, and he wore a pair of khaki slacks and a crisp button down. Everything about the man spoke precision and order. Not a button was out of place. Not a speck of dirt was unaccounted for.

The man's sharp, green eyes however held a deep mischievous look about them that swirled with a fiery chaos. They contrasted with the man's stately manner and gave the man a wild edge. He examined Robin inquisitively and allowed a small smile to grace his face, causing the lines around his eyes to deepen and shift.

"Who are you?" Robin whispered, narrowing his eyes. This man was so odd, yet commanding. Despite his quirky facade, beneath the layers of pristine clothing and mannerisms, the man was strong, firm, and resolute. He was not a man to trifle with.

"Oh someone to know, or not perhaps," the man said while waving away Robin's scrutinizing glare and turning around with a whirl.

"Now! Where did I put it?" Nimble fingers began scouring the kitchen. They glided over cabinet doors, pulling them open and throwing them closed.

Robin watched as the bizarre man searched through the kitchen with a perplexed expression plastered on his weathered face. He dashed around the space like a tornado, and everything spun around him in a controlled chaos.

"Um what are you looking for?" Robin asked while hesitantly moving forward. He rubbed the back of his neck as confusing thoughts raced through his mind. Just who exactly was this man and what was he doing here?

The man paused in his quest and gestured to him briefly. "A green bottle of laundry detergent, about this height…mmm…seen it anywhere?" the man asked, staring at him expectantly.

Robin withheld a tired sigh and allowed his hand to fall to his side. "Um no. I haven't seen it. Sorry. But why would it be in the kitchen?"

"Ah mix up with the groceries. Must have put it somewhere…" the man said, resuming his hunt for the hidden treasure. The cabinet door closed with a loud, obnoxious crack that echoed through the small space. Robin flinched and continued moving closer to the wild – and potentially crazy – man.

"Where's Slade?"

The man's hand flickered over the cabinet's handle for a brief few seconds and then continued on its irrational quest. More doors were thrown open and closed as the man bounded throughout the kitchen. Robin cleared his throat.

"Um excuse me?" he said, trying to draw the man's attention. Robin's voice creaked with a slight tinge of annoyance as he tried to remain calm.

"Sir?"

SMACK.

Another door was thrown close and overrode Robin's quiet voice. The boy pressed a weary hand on the cool counter top and allowed a long breath to escape through his lips. It slid into the air with a heavy weight and fell onto Robin's fatigued feet.

"Are you sure you haven't seen it anywhere?" the man asked. His voice was muffled slightly due to the fact that his head was jammed into the open cabinet.

SMACK.

The door was thrown closed and two beady eyes flickered over to him.

"No but-"

SMACK.

"-I just-"

SMACK.

"-have you-"

SMACK.

"-seen-"

SMACK.

"SLADE!" Robin yelled, his patience vanishing in the air with the loud smack of the cabinet door. The word spewed from his mouth like lava erupting from a volcano. His body burned with every emotion all at once. Weariness. Frustration. Anger. Defeat. Fatigue. All of his feelings swirled around him in a chaotic haze as the boy tried to break through to the senile, old man.

The man paused in his mad quest and slowly turned around to face the boy. He rose to his full height and in a fluid movement smoothed out his creased shirt. A small smile graced his face as he examined Robin with an inquisitive expression.

The boy took a calming breath and tried to rein in the temper of emotions that burned inside of him.

"Where is Slade?" Robin growled between clenched teeth. He watched as the man cocked his head as if realizing something for the first time. A flicker of hope sparked inside of the boy and Robin waited in a tense, expectant silence.

"Oh that's right. I think I left it in the other room!" the man exclaimed in a bubbly tone as he turned to exit the kitchen.

Robin swore under his breath and slammed his hand down on the counter. This man was impossible. He had never met someone as bizarre and inexplicable as this creature before him. The sharp noise resounded through the room and caused the man to falter in his bouncing step. He turned around and rested his energetic eyes on the boy.

"Oh what is it you wanted, young man?"

Robin sighed in defeat. His head tightened as the beginnings of a painful headache started to drive its way into his skull, and he rested his tired eyes on the tiled floor. This was a hopeless task. He would never get anything out of this man – never.

Deep, rumbling vibrations traveled through his hand as an object was set down on the counter top. The boy froze at the unexpected surprise, and his pained blue eyes flickered to the enigmatic item. He immediately recognized the smooth, flowing lines of a brand new, green bottle of laundry detergent.

"Oh good! You found it!" the man cried. The bubbly, green eyes focused on a figure behind him and winked. He sauntered over to Robin, snatched the bottle off of the counter with a warm smile, and moved away with his tornadic haze following close behind.

He was there.

Robin could feel the sheer power wash over him and the haunting shadow breathe down his neck. Chills crawled up the boy's back as the figure took a step closer so that he was inches away. The boy was locked into place as the gears in his mind stopped moving. His thoughts willed his body to move, but the boy remained frozen in place.

"Took you long enough to find me Robin. I'm disappointed."

The smooth words filled the overwhelming silence in the room and echoed in the boy's ears.

Inch by inch the boy turned around.

Inch by inch the man that haunted his dreams appeared.

And inch by inch Robin heard the footsteps of his fears walk into the silent room.

Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Leave a review and let me know!

Next Update: I'm going to be busy so I might not update these next two weeks! So sorry! I'll try but no promises.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!