A/N: Hello all! Back again with an update!
Hope everyone is doing well - I'm melting under the heat here:/ but still writing :D
Here's the next chapter - it's a long one! The first small chunk of this contains a mild torture-ish scene. Feel free to skip down to the next gray line if it's too much. You won't miss any major plot details.
With that, here we go!
Chapter 27
Honesty
"AHHHHHG."
He couldn't move.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't think.
He could only scream.
Pain.
Pain so deep it permeated into every crevasse of his mind. A deep fire spread through every inch of his being, paralyzing his movements and making his body feel like cement on the cold, iron table. The bitter taste of metal sunk into his mouth.
Make it stop.
His body was no longer his own. He couldn't pull against the restraints solidifying him to his horrid fate. Words echoed around him. Beads of sweat dripped down his skin. A panic filtered into his system. He was going to die.
"It's-"
Whatever the man was about to say was cut off with a terrible screech as a rush of blistering pain filled his body. With a heave of air, the man's chest rapidly rose and fell.
"NOT WORKING."
The scream fell onto unhearing ears.
Make it stop.
They were going to kill him.
A chuckle.
Blue eyes blinked as a figure snaked into his line of sight, blocking out the stale white light that blinked above him. The figure's head shifted eerily into a shadowy silhouette as the ceiling light flickered in a steady rhythm. A pair of shiny white teeth smiled down at the young man.
"On the contrary, you're doing much better than the previous subjects."
The light bulb fizzled and cracked, casting the cold space into darkness. Blue eyes stared up from its helpless state.
"You're going to kill me," the man muttered through gritted teeth. Warmth dripped down from his mouth.
"We won't kill you, Wilson." The figure's smile dissipated from his face as new lights flashed on from the periphery of the room.
"At least not intentionally."
The blinding light caused the man on the table to erupt in screams of pain. The man felt fingers probing his eyelids and pulling them up to reveal his burning pupils. A thoughtful hum reached his ears.
"Note increased sensitivity to light."
The figure moved away from the man's line of sight. Orders rang in the air to the scrambling persons in the small white room.
"Let's begin phase three."
The man felt a sharp prick on his shoulder that grew deeper and harsher with every passing second. A gasp flung from his numb lips as he snapped his eyes open. Two blue irises began shrinking under a cloud of inky gray. A deep coldness filtered over the fire that had penetrated every inch of his body. But the cold didn't stop. It crept through him, growing deeper and icier with every passing moment.
Make it stop.
Please.
"Slade?"
"Slade?"
"Slade!"
The man jerked his eyes from the folder in his head and rested his eyes on the boy in front of him. A slow breath filtered through his system as his mind unraveled itself from the truth that rested within the confines of the folder. For the millionth time that morning, Slade questioned if this was a wise decision.
He raised an eyebrow at the boy seated in front of him.
Robin mirrored the look.
"Well?" the boy said, dragging the word out.
Slade raised the coffee mug to his lips and took a long sip of the deep, rich liquid.
"Is that a question?"
The boy let out a frustrated huff and leaned back in his chair, pushing the coffee mug between his hands and watching as it slid on the wooden table.
"Come on, Slade."
The words sounded more annoyed than upset and Slade's lips twitched at the boy's dry statement. A few days ago, Robin would have already flipped the table over with impatience.
He seemed so small. The thought filtered its way through Slade's mind as he glanced from the folder to the boy hunched over in the chair in front of him. Robin's terrible posture certainly didn't help anything, the man thought as he took another sip from his coffee mug. He could already feel the caffeine reviving his sleep deprived system.
Robin glanced up from the folder, and Slade suddenly became aware of the fact that Robin's terrible posture could be from the same weariness Slade was feeling himself. However, within the depths of the small boy locked away within two very bright, blue eyes was a steely resolve. It was the strength behind those bright, blue eyes that reminded him of a similar face that he had seen in the mirror a very long time ago.
Slade's hand brushed over the cover of the folder and sighed.
A very long time ago.
A familiar hand fell on his shoulder, and Slade was pulled away from the memories that threatened to leak into his mind. He glanced up and Wintergreen allowed a soft smile to flitter onto his face. While the older man may mock and berate Slade, Wintergreen understood the man's pain. And his old friend's eyes reflected a truth Slade knew very well.
If he didn't tell Robin now, Slade never would.
With a subtle nod Wintergreen removed his hand, pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. The older man set his own mug down on the table in front of himself, took a sip and then set his sights back on Slade.
Wintergreen cocked his head slightly.
Slade's hand twitched.
The older man raised an eyebrow.
Slade huffed.
Wintergreen smiled, assured he had won the nonverbal conflict.
Slade's gaze turned back to where the boy was sitting, and in a smooth and seamless motion, he slid the folder across the table to land directly in front of the boy.
Slade didn't know what he was expecting – perhaps an earthquake to mark the momentous action. Perhaps the unraveling of the space-time continuum itself. He couldn't help but feel mildly disappointed in the fact the Earth took no notice of his action.
Instead Robin said nothing. In fact, Robin didn't do anything at all. He simply stared down at the manila folder on the table as if it were toxic.
Slade frowned, folding his hands together and pressing them on the table.
"Well?"
Robin glanced up, and Slade swore he saw Robin's lips twitch.
"Is that a question?" the boy responded with raised eyebrows.
A fluster of annoyance pricked Slade, and the man rose from his seat, reaching across the table to withdraw the folder back safely within his confines. But a smaller hand stopped him.
Robin stared at him, mirroring the exact frown creased over Slade's very face.
"Come on, Slade. You and Wintergreen are acting like this is the most important file in the history of mankind, and you just expect me to open it without any reservations?"
Slade's frown deepened and his eye flashed over to Wintergreen, unsure of how to continue from here. Even in his sleep deprived and shattered state, the boy was still keen enough to pick up on Slade's mild distress. Slade mentally berated himself. Anyone would have noticed. He wasn't doing anything to disguise his uneasiness. Instead, he was quite clearly broadcasting it for the world. He continued to stare at Wintergreen, seeking guidance from his friend. The unhelpful man shrugged.
"Well, yes…that's what you do with files, I suppose," Wintergreen said as he leaned back into his chair.
Slade glanced back at Robin, only to find the boy's frown deepen. The man withdrew his hand and sat back down in his chair.
"Robin…" Slade began, "It's not-"
"What is this?"
Slade Wilson had stared into the eyes of mercenaries, drug lords, and crime bosses. From the scum of Gotham to the richest of them all, Slade knew how devastating a mere glance could be to a person. He had never experienced however, what it was like to be on the other side of that gaze. Robin's eyes seemed to push him against an invisible wall, cornering him into facing a truth and a reality that he had tried to destroy many years ago. Here he was, face to face with grim facts locked away within the binds of a folder.
As he gazed into the young boy's eyes before him, he knew he couldn't manipulate his way out of an explanation. He knew he couldn't cheat the truth Robin craved. The boy deserved to know. With a final sigh that released all his reservations, Slade responded.
"Me."
The photo was quite small and torn from what looked like a news article of some sort. The man had a short, hard jaw line and two vapid eyes that stared into the abyss beyond the page. Robin frowned as he scanned his memory for any recognition. That wasn't Slade.
The boy looked up at the two men around the table. Wintergreen's green eyes had lost their mischievous gleam and were drawn into a serious furrow.
"I don't understand," Robin said as he racked his brain for any recognition, "who is this?"
Slade took as sip from his coffee and set the mug on the table with a thud. The man took a long pause before answering as his hand drummed on the table. After a long moment, he reached over and tapped the photo in Robin's hand.
"That," the man's gray eye found a pair of piercing eyes, "that's the man who cloned Batman."
Robin heard the words and looked up with a smile at the absurd notion. The laughter died unheard on his lips however, as he gazed at the serious faces around him.
"You're joking, right?"
Wintergreen's shake of the head caused Robin to scrunch his face in disbelief. His voice rose in tone as he asked his next question.
"Have you been watching some of Beast Boy's sci-fi movies or something?"
Slade arched an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm quite serious, Robin," the man said as he took another swig from his coffee.
The loud slurping grated against Robin's mind as the boy continued to flip through the various papers in the file. Most of them were beyond understanding without a more thorough read, so he flipped through the documents, scanning briefly over the numerous diagrams, maps, and charts. Some of the writing was heavily scientific jargon the boy wasn't familiar with.
"You can't clone a person – let alone Batman, Slade. It's just not possible," Robin continued as his hand paused over a sheet of paper.
Case File 03054
Robin's hand hovered over the thick stack of papers as the red lettering blared into his mind.
"I'm afraid you most certainly," Wintergreen quipped from the end of the table.
Robin looked up to find Slade's gaze fixed intently on him. He felt the man's intensity burn into him as his hand hovered over the thick packet. Robin placed his hand down on top of the red lettering as he gazed directly into the single gray eye.
"Are you trying to tell me that," the boy's eyes flickered down to the packet and back up to Slade as a he struggled to swallow down the anxiety rushing up inside of him.
"That…you're a clone?"
Laughter rang out from the opposite end of the table causing Robin to flinch as Wintergreen folded over in hysterics. Slade's turned an unamused eye toward the man as he leaned farther back in the chair. However, as Wintergreen continued his contagious laugher, the right side of Slade's mouth twitched upward as a light gleam entered his eye. Wintergreen's wheezing rang through the air as he stumbled from his chair only to sit back down as the laughter returned full force.
Robin's face flushed with a deep red as he sputtered, trying in vain to justify his question.
"I just thought that maybe-"
"A clone," Wintergreen wheezed as tears of laughter streamed down his face, "Can you even imagine?" The older man pushed himself off the table as he wagged his finger at Slade. "Who would ever have the unfortunate idea to clone you?"
Slade mouth switched to a deep frown as he glanced over at his friend.
"It's not a terrible idea."
"It's an AWFUL idea," the older man quickly shot back.
Slade ignored the quip and looked back at Robin. The boy's cheeks were flushed a hot red as he shifted in his seat.
"I just thought-"
"Can you imagine having a clone for a friend?" Wintergreen bellowed to himself as his laughter returned. "Perhaps it'd be more enjoyable to be around than the real you, Slade."
Robin rose to his feet as his embarrassment bled through his lips. His hand slammed down on the table as he tried to gather the last remaining dregs of his self-esteem. "Look I was just trying-"
Before his frustration could escalated any further though, Slade smoothly cut him off.
"Wintergreen if someone ever tried to clone you, they would be sorely disappointed by the half-witted senile old man they received in return."
The older man's laughter died to a low chuckle at the comment as he crinkled his nose. "Still better than you."
"Fine, still better than me."
The man's smile returned at the comment and Slade continued. "Why don't you go back to sleep? I can handle explaining the rest from here."
"I suppose I could," Wintergreen replied as he gazed around the room. "But what about breakfast?"
"For God's sake, Will its four thirty in the morning. The last thing I'm worried about is breakfast."
"But the boy needs to eat in order to -"
Robin opened his mouth to add in but Slade turned back to look at him and pointed at the table.
"Sit."
The boy gaped incredulously. "I'm not a dog, Slade."
Slade raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, causing Robin's cheeks to flush an even deeper red. With a few unpleasant mutters, Robin sunk back into his chair not wanting to test Slade so soon into their conversation. Slade turned back to Will and let out a long sigh.
"I'll handle it, Will."
With the drop of a smile, Wintergreen suddenly grew serious. He cleared his throat and stared long and hard at Slade. Robin watched the two as a few moments passed.
Suddenly as if the odd pair had come to an unspoken agreement, Wintergreen nodded, turning around.
"Suit yourself, I'll be down the hall if you need me."
Once the older man was gone, Slade let out a long breath. Robin found himself doing the same.
"Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with him."
Robin cleared his throat, causing the man's attention to swivel back to him.
"Do you really think I'm a clone, Robin?" Slade asked as he fixed his gray eye on the unmoving boy.
Robin huffed in frustration as the man cornered him with his unfortunate question. "No I just…" A mirroring sigh escaped the boy's lips as he looked back down at the stack of papers in front of him. "If you're not a clone, what the heck is this?" His fingers tapped on the large file of papers and charts.
Slade shrugged. "As I said before, that's me."
Robin looked back down at the files with confusion. What the heck was Slade on about now? He looked back down at the file and flipped the page. A pair of two blue eyes stared up at him and suddenly the stack of papers in his hand felt very heavy and very real. In his hands were the answers to the question he had always obsessed over about the man.
Robin's hand quivered as he moved it over the words on the page.
Slade Wilson Case Subject 54
Robin looked back up at Slade's cool and even gaze.
"But…but how does this…I don't understand," Robin said as he glanced back down at the stack of papers around him.
The man reached over and tapped the photo on the table.
"Jack Kilgan. Head director of Case File Lazarus," Slade said at a length, "He was a part of the group of bastards that made me…well…" The man looked back up at Robin.
"This."
The boy dropped his eyes back to the photo in the file. His hand hovered over the photo of a younger but familiar looking man. He had the same strong jawline, but instead of his crisp silvery hair, the youthful man had a mop of shaggy, blond hair. A lighter look filled his two eyes that stared through the photo and up at Robin. The man looked…dare he say…happy.
"What you didn't think I was born like this, did you?" Slade asked when a long silence had fallen over the boy.
"No-but…" Robin began but trailed off as he looked down at the younger Slade in the photo again. He picked up the photo of the other man and placed them side by side. Slade's younger self looked so calm and filled with life compared to the deceitful eyes of the whoever this Kilgan guy was.
"What the hell were they trying to do to end up with you? Was their goal to create the ultimate super-powered mastermind villain?" The question shot out of his mouth before Robin had time to really think over what he was saying. The boy's eyes widened.
"No offense but…"
"The villain part no," Slade said as he leaned forward and picked up his coffee mug, "But I'm flattered that you think so highly of me."
Robin rolled his eyes, "Don't be."
Slade took another sip of his coffee as he focused on the wall across the room. A dark look appeared in his eye as his mind sunk back to the past. "No, they wanted to create the perfect super soldier, and they did."
"I wouldn't exactly call you perfect, Slade."
"I'm pretty damn close," the man countered without an edge of humor in his voice.
Robin gazed at the man before him as if another layer had been removed from the depth of Slade's infinite persona. The boy looked up from the files and gestured toward the man in front of him.
"But why you, I don't understand?"
Slade shrugged as the mug switched to a different hand. "I was a promising young man in the army with already far advanced abilities than my superiors. Why wouldn't they pick me?"
Robin snorted. "Humility certainly wasn't on the requirement list."
"Never a trait I seemed to have mastered," Slade drawled casually as he pushed his chair legs off the ground and leaned back.
The boy turned the page and scanned through the block text.
Subject is stable and breathing…
"But…"
Injection of the serum caused temporary paralysis…
Subject conscious but struggling to obtain sufficient oxygen levels…
Cellular activity causing severe burns along arms, legs...
"Why did you agree?"
Slade's gray eye turned to face Robin as a cold smile etched its way onto his face.
"By the time I wanted out, it was no longer optional."
Subject is stable after inducing phase 3…
Survival much longer than predecessors…
Cellular activity spiking…
"Slade, what did they do…."
The words caused a chilled expression to form on Slade's face. "You don't want to know."
Robin glanced back down at the file as Slade's words echoed in his ears.
"Out of all their test subjects, I was the first and last one to survive."
The boy's eyes reached the bottom of the page, and his hand shakily shut the file closed. Slade was right. As much as he had obsessed over the man's past, when confronted with the stark and unfiltered truth, Robin decided that he really didn't need nor want to know the details. What happened in the past, deserved to stay there.
"The one thing no one had anticipated though was when you give a man inhuman power, he starts to think for himself. Turns out I wasn't the perfect soldier they had hoped I'd be."
The cling of a coffee mug brought the boy out of his thoughts.
Slade's single eye glanced over to Robin's untouched cup.
"You going to finish that?"
Robin shook his head, and Slade reached over, grabbing the mug and dumping the cooled liquid into his own empty cup. The boy watched as the dark liquid dripped down the ceramic side in a slow trickle.
"I tracked all the scientists, researchers – whatever you want to call them – all down. Every single one of them," Slade said as he watched the coffee. "Took me a few years but I disposed of them all, so that they couldn't do this to anyone else. As I said, I was the first and I made sure I would be the last."
Slade's entire persona darkened at his words as if his entire being convulsed around the power they held. The folder suddenly grew a few pounds heavier in his hands as Robin gazed down at it. He could only imagine how Slade had disposed of those men. It was something Robin would never agree with, but he couldn't exactly blame Slade for his actions. One Slade was more than enough for the world to handle.
A shiver crawled up his spine as he regarded Slade. The man before him was very different from the one in the photograph. This was a man who had his life wrenched away from him. This was a man who had to rebuild and recreate himself because he had been left with no other choice.
Would he had done the same if put in Slade's position? Robin paused at the thought. Or would he have retained his sense of justice and carried it with him no matter the circumstances, using his powers for the betterment of the world?
He met Slade's gray eye as he realized he no longer had the answers to his own questions.
Not everything is so cut and dry, Robin.
The words took on a new meaning as he stared at the dark, gray eye.
So many questions rose in the boy's mind, but as he continued to ponder the man before him, he realized there were many questions he'd rather not have answered.
Best to leave the past buried.
It was a truth that Robin knew very well. Nothing good happened when you unearthed the past. It only brought the same feelings of pain and emptiness that one spent a lifetime trying to erase. But no matter how hard one tried, the memories will always be there, just beneath the surface.
Seconds ticked by as he watched Slade delve back into the days that had shaped his life. The man drummed his hand on the table as his eye stared pensively at the wall in front of him, seeing nothing, but seeing everything. Robin knew the look on the man's face. He had experienced the similar expression many times before.
The boy glanced back down at the folder in his hand and slipped the photo out of the supposed medical expert. He cleared his throat, drawing Slade's attention back to him.
"So, what does Kilgan specifically have to do with this?" the boy asked, holding up the man's photo.
Slade's frown deepened as he pushed back and rose from his chair. "He was the last one I went after," the man turned and began a slow and even pace around the table. "He was always on the move and always careful to cover the tracks. He'd probably heard about what had happened to his associates and knew he'd be next."
The man paused as he leaned up against the table. "Followed him to Gotham where his trail ran cold," Slade crossed his arms over his chest. "Normally this wouldn't be a problem for me, but I was relatively unknown then. I didn't have the reputation I do now which made it harder for me to navigate the criminal ring."
"So, I focused my efforts elsewhere, grew my business and developed some work associates who could keep a look out in Gotham for me." Slade said as he picked up his coffee mug again. "I always kept looking though. I kept records on all the classified laboratories in the world, waiting for a scrap of information that would send me in his direction. Kilgan was too insane not to continue his work – it was just a matter of where and when. I figured he'd show up somewhere eventually or someone else would eventually finish the job for me. I'd hoped for the latter."
Slade shrugged. "Guess I was too optimistic."
Robin looked back down at the photo in his hand as the gears began to click and turn.
"He was a specialist in cell generation. The rest of his colleagues focused on the regeneration part," Slade gestured towards himself at those words, and Robin's eyes immediately flickered down to the area where a bullet was supposed to be lodged into his thigh. Another example of Slade uncanny ability to erase time itself. A loud crash forced Robin to snap his head up as he watched Slade shatter the mug into pieces against the edge of the table. The man held the mug's handle and lifted it to his eye level, examining the sharp edge he had created.
"So, for example," Slade said as he stood and faced Robin. The man held up his palm and before the boy could stop him, quickly slid the sharp edge down the length of it.
Robin's eyes widened in disbelief as bright, red blood oozed from the wound and onto the ground.
"Slade, what are you doing?" Robin cried as he stared at the fresh wound in confusion.
"You see while his colleagues were more concerned about trying to heal and repair the damage," Slade said as he placed the broken handle on the table, "Kilgan was more concerned about how to regenerate the entire hand – an ability that I unfortunately still seem to lack." Slade tapped his eye patch with his undamaged hand.
Robin's eyes traveled from the eye patch to the bleeding hand. So, Slade really did only have one eye.
Seems Beast Boy was out twenty dollars on that bet.
The blood quickly turned a dark, inky red and congeal around the wound. Robin watched as lighter colored cells began to appear, growing from the edge of the cut and building inward. The skin began to knit itself back together in tiny stitches down the course on the cut. In a matter of seconds, it merged and sealed together, leaving behind a trail of blood with a deep, rich color Robin had never seen before.
Slade grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped off the remaining blood leaving behind a scarless and perfectly functional hand. The man flexed it and moved it around with an ease that should have been impossible.
"Like it never happened."
Robin stared at the man's hand with a deep fascination. He knew Slade had a regeneration ability, but he had never seen it in action before. It was eerily unnerving. The man could walk through the fires of hell itself and remain unscathed.
"You can imagine my surprise when I went to investigate the room in the Joker's haunt and found a storehouse of files and samples dealing with all the things I had spent years trying to bury."
Robin blinked as he remembered the haunt they had found and the crates upon crates of test tubes he had stumbled upon.
Slade brushed the ceramic shards off the table and dragged a second envelope over to the pair. He flipped it open and slid his hands over the papers, cursorily spreading them out over the length of the table. "I was even more surprised when I found the same papers and tests written by the devil himself and created with one goal in mind-"
The man swiveled his head back to the boy.
"To clone a human."
The gears in Robin's mind clicked. "So, your saying it's him? That he's helped the Joker clone Batman?"
"I'm not surprised they fell into each other's company. They're both psychotic enough to actually find a way to do it."
"So, how do you think the Joker found this Kilgan person?"
Slade sighed as he rubbed his single eye. "The undercurrent of Gotham city is a dangerous place. The two must have crossed paths at some point, and when they did I don't doubt that the Joker found what the man offered to be intriguing."
Robin cocked his head at the word. That was something he hadn't heard in a long time.
The undercurrent of Gotham was one of the few things Batman hardly ever mentioned to Robin. The boy drummed his hand on the table. He could count on his hands the amount of times Batman had mentioned the undercurrent to him before – normally a slip of the tongue on his mentor's part. But he had never actually seen how the massive web of criminals maneuvered and circulated information. Batman had always tried to keep him away from the darkest parts of Gotham – not that Robin really blamed him. Word on the street had always been that if you got sucked into the undercurrent, there was no swimming back to safety, and most of the time, Robin had been too curious for his own good while in Gotham. Therefore, Batman had tried to keep the boy's curiosity out of anything regarding the undercurrent's movements.
"But how did you not hear about it? Something this revolutionary would have circulated the criminal turf quickly, right?" Robin asked. Surely any criminal with the reputation Slade had would be aware of the current's movements.
"If it were with the Joker, no one would have heard about it" Slade replied with a shrug, "He tends to keep his business out of the current's knowledge. Besides he's just about the only villain I don't keep tabs on."
Robin shot the man a confused look. "Why?"
"Too insane. Too unpredictable. I don't bother him, and he doesn't bother me. Better left alone."
Robin snorted at the blaring truth in Slade's words. "You're telling me," Robin said as he paused in front of the door that led to the main part of the haunt. He spun around and began pacing toward the kitchen as he voiced a thought that still bothered him.
"I just don't understand how this psychotic doctor could have escaped your notice all these years."
"My guess is that he's been underground perfecting his methods," Slade replied as he pushed himself off the table. "Plenty of case subjects to work with. People go missing in Gotham all the time."
The words caused chills to run down the boy's spine.
"And nobody ever notices."
"So, you think that the Batman we fought was a clone?" Robin asked incredulously. The notion was still too extreme to wrap his mind around.
"Certain. While realistic, his fighting style was slower, sloppier. There are limitations to trying to clone a human being. You'll never be able to get the brain quite right. There's a depth and nature to humans that's impossible to replicate. That's why he appeared lifeless, because well…he was."
"Besides, we both know that no amount of mind control, manipulation or brain washing could ever make Batman harm you."
Robin looked up.
"Everyone else, sure. But you, never. I'll give the Bats that much credit."
There was a truth in the words, Robin couldn't deny. No matter how bad, how long, or how intensely the pair fought, neither would ever purposely hurt one another. And nothing could ever break Batman into harming the very person he considered his son.
A thought struck Robin.
"So, do you think Batman's dead then?"
"No, but I'll put money on it that Kilgan is. The Joker is known for disposing of people once they lose their usefulness."
"And if the Joker has a system to create clones, he no longer needs the brain power behind it."
A dark chuckle hummed in the air. "I suppose I wasn't too optimistic about someone getting to it eventually."
Robin shivered, trying to physically press the words away from himself. His mind twisted and turned, picturing the image before him.
The Joker, Batman, clones…and the gears in his mind clunked.
"It just doesn't seem like something the Joker would do, Slade."
The man allowed a grim smile to flash onto his face at the comment. "Perhaps not. But as I said, he's too unpredictable and insane to truly know. And with a convincing person…its possible…"
Robin growled in frustration as he glanced down at the scattered papers on the table. "But why not just make a duplicate army of super-soldiers like yourself, Slade?"
But the man was already shaking his head. "Know your enemy, Robin. That's too easy and lacks the twisted qualities the Joker likes to manipulate." Slade leaned over the table, and Robin saw a familiar gleam enter his eye.
"Why not destroy Gotham with the people who vowed to protect it? The civilian population will never know the difference."
Realization dawned on the boy.
"So, that's why he wanted me."
Slade snapped his fingers. "Bingo. The dynamic duo of Gotham destroying it piece by piece. And why stop there? There's still the Titans and the Justice League too."
Robin whirled around, mirroring Slade's pacing through the room. His thoughts were buzzing with ideas, images and connections. If what Slade was saying was true, they were in a bigger mess than he had originally thought. Robin sighed as he pushed his head against the smooth kitchen wall. There was one part of this mess that still bothered him.
"I'm surprised the Joker managed to catch Batman in the first place," the boy started. "If only Catwoman hadn't…" Another growl of frustration as he clenched his fists together. "Nothing I can do about it now though."
A few seconds of silence ticked by as the boy turned around, finding Slade's sharp eye gazing at him. Robin voiced the question that he had been dreading.
"What makes you think Batman's still alive though?" Deep inside, Robin knew the Caped Crusader was still alive, but Slade's words confirmed the fear he had kept buried – time was running out.
"Because his usefulness hasn't run out yet. The Joker can still have his twisted sort of fun. Why kill Batman when you can make him watch 'himself' or his clone tear the city down?" Slade gestured to the air. "Watching the physical embodiment of yourself destroying what you swore to protect can be detrimental to the mind."
"And that is what the Joker loves to do, break people," Robin muttered as he pushed himself from the wall, trying to shake the haunting laughter away creeping through his mind.
"But why not have someone just impersonate Batman? Why go to all," Robin gestured to the table, "this trouble?"
Slade chuckled at the question as he followed Robin's eyes. "You try to find someone who can impersonate Batman, or anyone in the League for that matter, and let me know how to goes."
Robin began racking his brain, sorting through possible candidates. He was certain there was a villain who could do it. He would have to be Batman's height or taller. Strong. Cunning. Determined. Robin frowned as he realized it wouldn't be quite as easy as he had originally thought. Plus, once the Joker found a person, he would have to convince him of the plan which would bring on another host of challenges. And Robin really didn't think the Joker was strong on his persuasion skills. But it could be possible…
The general population wouldn't know the difference, but it wouldn't fool any of the heroes – they would all know it were an imposter immediately. A clone on the other hand…no one would be able to tell the difference. They would all think Batman had been brainwashed or was somehow begin controlled like Robin had assumed.
Robin glanced at Slade as the idea suddenly clicked in his head.
Strong. Cunning. Determined.
"You could do it, Slade."
The man snorted. "Don't think it would be an appealing job for me, Robin."
"But you could."
"I wouldn't -"
"But you-"
"Okay so I could," Slade snapped, "But that again doesn't mean I would, and there lies the entire problem with that idea."
Robin hummed thoughtfully as he glanced back down on the table.
"I suppose so," he whispered.
A few moments passed as the boy absorbed everything Slade had told him thus far. It was a lot of information, and Robin felt it swirling around him as he tried to sort and digest ever last ounce of it. This all was assuming Slade was right. The man could be wrong and Batman could be-
"There is a slight problem though…"
"What?" Robin's head snapped up at the statement as Slade walked toward him. His statue towered over the smaller boy as he gestured down to the table.
"If the Joker becomes bored," Slade began, "Batman's usefulness could be running out…"
The words were ones Robin had been afraid to hear. He knew how the Joker operated, and predictability certainly wasn't something they could count on. It could be on a whim, or it could be on a precisely measured scale – either way Batman's life hung on a thin needle, one that could tip on the single impulse of an insane psychopath.
He became keenly aware of the presence next to him as his senses were pushed into overload. Slade's thinking trickled its way through him as he began to sense where the man's logic was going. Dread crept up in Robin. If Slade were right then the only logical thing would be to…
"So what do we do?"
His words were a mere whisper.
"We give him a reason to keep Batman alive."
The words were deep and held an icy darkness to them in the bareness of the room. Suddenly Robin realized the trust he had placed within the man standing next to him was about to be put to the test.
Slade looked Robin directly in the eyes.
"We kill the clone."
A cold grip of fear wrapped around Robin's heart as his mind jumped back to the powerful arch of Slade's sword.
"It's an option to consider. My guess is the clone will soon be unleashed on the city. And until we find the Joker's new location, we need to give him a reason to keep Batman alive. Batman would become a necessity then."
Robin understood the logic behind the man's words. He understood exactly how Slade had arrived at that conclusion. It made sense. It was what Batman would do in his place. But there was still a tiny whisper of doubt in his mind. He knew Slade couldn't be lying to him – why go to all the trouble and unearth all the information about his past just to lie? It was a possibility – but after everything, after everything that had happened between the two in the past days – Robin couldn't believe the man would come to this point simply to lie to him. But what if…what if…
Slade stared off towards the wall drumming his fingers on the table top. "It's an option, not the only one of course. But one to think about and-"
"-what if you're wrong, Slade," the boy whispered as his heart crawled into his throat.
Robin watched as the man was drawn out of his thoughts, and Slade turned as a small frown wormed its way across his face. The man blinked slowly as if regarding Robin's presence for the first time.
"I'm not."
The words were flat and yet had a gentleness to them. Within them was the unspoken question of why Robin was doubting his knowledge. The boy fought through his rising panic as he glanced up at the man in front of him. The man whose life wasn't his own. The man who had been created and molded. The man who shielded himself from the world much like Robin did. As the boy looked up into the stark gray eye, he felt the words fall out of his mouth.
"But what if you are?"
Robin felt the gray eye searching his face. He felt the powerful presence move closer to him. He felt Slade reach out, but Robin stepped out of the man's grasp.
"What if all of this, is a mistake?" Robin gestured around him, as his voice rose in volume,
"What if that's actually Batman – he's just been brainwashed and manipulated into this creature?" He felt Slade approach him again as his panic leached into his words. "What if the Batman you were about to kill was the real deal. What if he wasn't a clone."
A hand grabbed his shoulder, but the touch didn't faze the boy as he faced the fear hidden within the statements Slade had said.
His voice was a thin whisper.
"What if I kill the very man who raised me."
"You won't, Robin."
The boy looked up into the reassuring eye.
"But what if you're wrong." The last words landed in the room with a dismal hiss. He felt Slade's surprisingly gentle touch on his other shoulder and watched as the man took another small step forward.
"Then you know as well as I do, Robin."
Robin's heart hammered in his chest as he waited – waited for the words that he knew would follow the statement. He felt Slade tighten his grip and Robin's heart pounded against his chest. The boy hung his head as the words echoed in his ears over and over again, drumming into his soul.
"The Batman you know is as good as dead."
A/N:
**DUN DUN DUNNNN! is Slade lying? is Batman still alive!? A CLONE?**
Haha but in all seriousness, let me know what you think. When I started writing this, I had no clear vision of where I wanted to take it, but as I kept writing the story evolved on its own. So I hope you like where its going.
Also I hope you like my portrayal of Slade's backstory - I think I kept it pretty true to his character. Kilgan is an OC but as Slade said - odds are he won't be making an appearance later on.
SO UNTIL NEXT TIME, thanks for reading!