A/N: Hello all! Thanks for all the reviews. I love getting to know what you think as the story progresses!
Sorry this update took a little longer - life got in the way like it always does. Hum, hum, hum, Doc Manager was being weird when I was finally trying to upload this...but I managed none the less!
Anyways enough about my pointless struggles, enjoy!
Chapter 31
Wrong
Blue.
The color haunted Slade.
Robin's eyes tore into him, digging into his soul.
When he looked at Robin, he couldn't see the fearless, strong Boy Wonder anymore. He could only see a fragile boy who when faced with the sheer evil and insanity of the Joker would get riddled with gunshots and destroyed within the span of minutes.
Words echoed in his mind.
I don't know I just – wish things could be different…
A small part of Slade couldn't help but agree with those words. Sometimes the man wished there was an undo button for life. Sometimes he wished the masks had never been needed. Sometimes the man wished their lives hadn't taken them to this point.
But here they were.
We can't change the past.
The sooner the boy understood the truth, the easier his life would become. Life gave no second chances or redoes. There was no turning back time.
Robin's eyes flickered back up to him again. The man abruptly turned away from the blue orbs and walked through the open doorway, leaving the conversation behind him. He didn't bother to see if the boy was following him. Slade knew Robin would be.
Blue eyes blinked behind him.
If he should even call the boy by that name now.
Soft footsteps trailed behind Slade's steps as the man rounded the corner of the kitchen.
Wintergreen looked up from the table and set his coffee mug down. His eyes scanned over Slade's tense form with a frown. He opened his mouth to comment, but Slade imperceptibly shook his head. Wintergreen's eyes flashed to the boy, trailing behind Slade, and his frowned deepened.
Slade ignored his friend's perceptive gaze and marched over to the counter, snatched a plate and began piling eggs on top of the ceramic surface. Within a few seconds, the man had made his way to the table, yanked the chair out, and sat down. He huffed, trying to drown his frustration in food. With a grumble, he lifted a fork-full of eggs to his mouth, and found Wintergreen's eyes upon him again.
Slade paused with the fork dangling inside his open mouth.
"Didn't realize my food was that bad, Slade," Wintergreen said as he leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.
The man chomped down on the food and glanced back down at his plate.
Riddled with bullets.
Dead on the ground.
Horrific images of the boy's potential fate at the Joker's hands danced around his mind. They were unreasonable fears, but Slade could do little to control them. If he made one error or if he miscalculated one step, Robin would end up dead, and Slade would have yet another death to be blamed for.
He had to do something. He had to make sure Robin was prepared.
"Come eat, Robin," Slade said gruffly between mouthfuls of food.
"Already did."
Slade didn't want to turn around. He didn't want to see the boy behind him, hovering in the doorway – caught between two worlds.
Robin coughed quietly in a feeble effort to break the awkward silence. "So, what's the plan?"
The soft voice traveled the distance of the room, carrying a note of uncertainty within it. Wintergreen cleared his throat, picking the newspaper back up and disappearing behind the large print. Slade kept his eye focused on the plate of food as his fork scraped against the ceramic plate.
"We wait."
The man took another bite of food, suddenly finding it a chore to chew.
"For?"
"For the Joker to send the clone out again. Then we move," Slade said curtly. He placed his fork down, abruptly realizing the thin metal was bending under his tense grip.
Green eyes blinked at him from over the folds of the newspaper. They echoed an unspoken question from the length of the table.
What's wrong?
Slade shook his head and glanced back down at his unfinished food. He rose from his chair, grabbed his plate, and moved back into the kitchen, making his way to the sink. He turned on the faucet. The warm water gushed over his hands, and Slade paused in his movements, allowing the liquid to fall over his skin and onto the plate.
Like blood…
Slade turned, finding those searing, blue eyes digging into him again. Robin leaned against the doorway to the hallway and dropped his eyes to the ground. The man paused, finding himself stuck beside the running sink.
Robin hadn't put the mask back on.
Slade didn't know what to think of the boy's decision. If anything, it made the situation seem more real, more tangible, and more important. It packed every choice with the gravity of reality. Robin was not a fearless, immortal superhero. Underneath the cape, the traffic-colored uniform, and the layers of wit, puns, and banter, he was just a boy.
"You know how I feel about wasting water," Wintergreen hummed lightly.
Slade cut the faucet off, throwing the room into silence. In the quiet left behind, Robin's words came back to him.
This is understanding.
No one could understand.
"We could go scout around, maybe…"
You've changed.
It was too late to change.
"Night. We'll go at night. Easier to go unseen," Slade replied, wiping his wet hands over his sweatpants. The boy nodded, shifting his body so his entire back leaned against the wall.
Slade's mind burned.
What did Robin want? What was the boy trying to gain in this situation? What was the useless sense of prying into Slade's past – of questioning his life decisions? Why did he have to bring up the picture of Adeline? There was nothing to gain by these useless interrogations. There was nothing to gain by wishing to change the past.
The man inhaled, trying to calm his rushing thoughts with the cool air. He leaned against the counter, allowing the uncomfortable silence to eat its way through him. The man wasn't sure what was worse, arguing with Robin or the silence that suffocated the air when he didn't know what to say to the boy.
As if sensing the unease in the room, Wintergreen hastily rose from his chair, picking up his plate and marching into the kitchen. "Well," the older man began, "Why don't you two find something to do in the meantime instead of wasting all the oxygen around here?" The short figure made its way through the kitchen, hurrying to clean off the countertops.
Slade pushed himself from the sink as Wintergreen shooed him away. The man approached Robin with a dead finality in his mind. He knew what he had to do, but he also had a sinking suspicion of how Robin would react to the suggestion. If he was going to keep Robin alive, the boy needed to be prepared to face the Joker, and Batman's subpar training wasn't going to cut it.
While they couldn't change the past, the future was still well within Slade's control.
He was in front of the boy now, and Robin looked up, a question written in his eyes.
"How about some training?" Slade asked, still unused to the two, blue orbs gazing steadily at him.
Robin blinked, drawing himself out of his thoughts and wrapping his mind around the question. He glanced down, and for a few moments Slade thought he may reject the very notion of the idea.
"Why not?"
The boy looked up with a light smirk.
"Been awhile since I've gotten to kick your – "
"LANGUAGE! Watch the language! I will not have profanity in this household, thank you very much," Wintergreen hollered from the kitchen.
Slade raised his eyebrows and glanced back down at the boy.
The only response he received was a light smirk, coupled with a wicked gleam in those haunting, blue eyes.
With a grunt, Robin tumbled onto the floor. He rolled over, the oxygen sufficiently knocked out of his body and struggled to regain a lick of air into his lungs.
"Gee-z Slade – "
"Stop dropping your arm, and maybe it won't happen again."
If Robin had the energy to mutter a few choice words, the boy would have. Instead, he settled for a wheezing cough. A hand appeared in front of his face, and the boy dimly reached out to accept it. With a strong pull, he was flung to his feet in front of his sparring partner.
When Slade had suggested some training, Robin had found himself oddly excited at the offer. He had been itching to burn off some steam, and there wasn't much else to do until the Joker showed his face in Jump again. Besides, he would never pass up the opportunity to hash it out with Slade on fair and even turf.
The boy groaned, shrugging away the painful knots in his shoulders.
So much for that.
Robin wiped the sweat from his eyes, faintly aware of the man standing just beyond his peripheral vision. Slade hadn't even broken a sweat, and already Robin was drowning in a sea of droplets. He growled in annoyance at the stoic man, and quickly whipped around, twirling his staff in a large arc toward Slade's side. Robin knew it was a cheap shot to attempt to catch the man off-guard, but a growing desperation and a hurting ego, forced him to try anyway.
Smack.
Their staffs connected in a loud crack. Robin marveled at how Slade seemed to barely move, yet his staff soared through the air in seconds. The boy huffed, spinning around and slamming the staff toward Slade once more. The man deflected the blow, and Robin surged forward, pressing an offensive attack on his opponent.
Slade blocked the attacks easily, but continued to give ground. Robin narrowed his eyes in concentration as sweat drained from his face and onto the ground. Slade used his forearm to stop the force of Robin's attack and stepped forward, sweeping his staff in a long arch. Robin flipped backwards, barely missing the edge of the thick metal and landed with his staff up and ready to block the follow-up attack.
Robin grunted under the force of the blow, grinding his bare feet into the mat as Slade's staff hurled into his own. The pressure suddenly vanished, and Slade stepped back.
"Good, you're already getting better," Slade rumbled. "You always were a fast learner."
The boy huffed in response, wiping the sweat from his face with his t-shirt. He didn't acknowledge the man's praise. He didn't want to think about how a piece of him thrived on the words. He didn't want to think about how the same piece of him was enjoying their sparring practice. He didn't want to think too hard about anything because when he did, the boy began to see everything wrong with the situation.
Here he was sparring with Slade – no masks, no lies, no deceptions. It felt easy. It felt natural. But in the same instance, it all felt very…
Wrong.
The boy shook his head, muttering to himself. It was fine, he reasoned. Just a little practice. They were just killing some time until either they found the Joker's new hideout, or the Joker decided to reveal his next plans.
Slade dropped his staff as if sensing the edges of frustration around the boy.
"Perhaps we should try something else?"
Robin frowned at the words, shrugging. Unlike Slade, he still held onto his staff.
"What? Like hand to hand combat?" the boy asked, pushing a few strands of hair from his face.
He blinked as the cool air rushed by. It was strange not to have his domino mask shielding his eyes from the world. The boy couldn't remember the last time he had done any training without the thin piece of fabric. Around the Titans he had to be Robin every moment of every day as Batman had stipulated no one – not even his friends – could know of his true identity.
Yet here he was with Slade, perhaps the single person who could wield the most detrimental damage with the information, exposing his identity like it was completely normal.
Wrong.
All wrong.
Robin inhaled a calming breath, allowing the sudden tension to drain from his body. While every logical component of his brain screamed this situation was all sorts of messed up, he didn't feel panicked. While it felt strange to be looking at Slade without the thin film covering his eyes, Robin found himself growing to enjoy the freedom. He enjoyed fighting against the man, face to face, without any lies separating them.
In many ways, it reminded him of his times training with Batman.
Robin dropped his eyes, feeling a rush of guilt drip over him at the mere idea of the comparison. Slade was not Batman, and the man never would be.
Slade was evil. Batman was good.
Slade killed. Batman saved.
Slade hunted. Batman protected.
Black and white.
The boy's eyes swept over the space and burned from the cool air. He sensed Slade's eye hovering over him.
But so much gray…
The boy shook his head again as he clenched his hand around his staff, pushing away his thoughts. Here he was, wasting time, when he should be out there searching for his mentor. Here he was, without his mask – the one item Batman had always claimed was of deadly importance. Here he was, in front of a sworn enemy of the League, enjoying himself.
But Slade wasn't his enemy – not anymore.
Did that one aspect make any of this okay?
"I was thinking something with a different feel to it."
He glanced up as the man gestured to follow him. Slade began walking towards the far end of the gym, and Robin shrugged as he fell in step behind the man.
The boy spun the staff in his hands as he moved. "What, are you thinking of bringing out the Slade-bots for practice?"
"No."
Robin frowned at the short reply and slowed in his pace, trailing further behind. The cool tile pressed into his feet as he stepped off the mat. As they drew nearer to the far wall, the coldness crept its way through him, climbing from his legs and rising into his body. His pace slowed to a stop as the chilled air brushed against his sweat-soaked face.
The boy stared.
Robin reflexively brought the staff around in front of him, trying to ward off the cold tendrils of fear traveling through him. His mind dragged the pieces together as a small suspicion gnawed at his thoughts.
Slade turned, and upon seeing Robin's defensive stance, held up his hands.
"I'm not about to attack you," Slade said in a low voice. Robin's eyes flashed over the man's shoulders and stared at the wall of weapons just beyond his reach. Violently, it clicked in his brain of what the man had in mind.
The cold frosted over.
"No."
It was the only syllable his mind could process as the edges of memories seeped around him. His hands tightened around the staff as his eyes drilled into the towering presence before him.
"You said you trusted me."
Robin licked his lips, trying to ease the dryness in his mouth.
"This is different."
"Robin, I need to – "
"No."
There was a touch of panic to his tone now as he turned away. A strong hand grabbed his arm. The boy stilled as the touch brought a rush of dread to the surface of his mind.
"Listen to me – "
Robin whirled around, whipping the staff toward at the man. It was the same movement he had executed only minutes before, but this time, the boy had far different intentions. The staff collided into Slade's hand with a dead smack that echoed across the expanse of the space. A fire blazed in his eyes as he inhaled a shuddering breath.
"I said no." His words hung in the air with an icy bite. Slade tugged the staff forward, but Robin held his ground, pulling against the force.
The man's face was a hard mask, and as Robin looked into the gray eye, he saw nothing but a dead determination.
"Stop being unreasonable – " Slade hissed as he tried to push the staff away. Robin held firm.
"No means no, Slade," the boy's voice rose in volume as the air burned against his eyes. The walls of the gym begin to move towards him, rising up like dark specters. Lightning and thunder flashed in his mind as memories began to crawl up his feet.
Slade was challenging the one rule Robin had never argued against during his time with Batman. It was the one rule the Caped Crusader practically lived and breathed by.
A frustrated growl escaped Slade, and Robin's grip tightened around the staff, his eyes flickering between the man and the weapons lining the wall. Slade stepped forward and Robin felt the cold bar being pushed against his chest.
"I need you to listen to me," Slade said. His voice was gratingly smooth within the space of the room.
Robin stared straight ahead as he pushed away the edges of panic mounting in his chest. The boy fleetingly wished for his mask. He wished for the sense of security and strength it provided. Slade's searing gaze shoved its way through the cracks in Robin's calm facade, shredding into the boy's mind. Robin's heart fluttered in his chest, rapidly growing faster. Why had he thought it to be a good idea to let himself be this vulnerable in front of Slade?
"And I need you to listen to me – no," Robin said. His voice was quiet in the cavernous room. His gloveless hands shook, and the vibrations traveled down the length of the staff.
"Not this."
There wasn't a challenge hidden beneath his words like there had been countless times before. He didn't want to fight with Slade over this topic as he didn't have the energy nor the strength. The boy was tired. Robin was tired of fighting conflicting sides. He was tired of questioning everything around him. Because when faced with the wall behind him, Robin didn't want to remind himself of who Slade was when he donned the black and orange mask. He wanted to hold onto this one shred of resistance and leave it as a thick line in the sand.
The objects on the walls tore into the cracks in his mind.
The ultimate betrayal.
Rule number one.
No guns.
But Robin knew Slade wasn't the type of person to take no for an answer.
"Robin – "
Fear blurred into instinctive action as the boy wrenched away, pushing the staff hard into Slade's chest. He stumbled backwards as he whirled around, clamoring his way across the room. His breathing quickened as adrenaline bled through his system.
A cry of alarm echoed from his lips as a force yanked him back. Robin spun around as sheer instinctive reactions hammered in his brain and drove his fist towards the man's side. Slade deflected the blow, and tried to grab his other arm. Robin anticipated the move and ducked, throwing his shoulder into Slade's chest. The man grunted, stepping backwards and giving the boy just enough room to retreat.
Robin hardly made it a few paces when Slade lashed out, sweeping his legs out towards the boy's feet. While Robin managed to dodge the clean move, he couldn't stop his eyes from flickering between the man and the objects looming behind Slade's head.
"Slade, st – "
Robin shifted to defensive actions as Slade picked up the pace of the fight. He realized Slade had been holding back earlier – slowing down the attacks to give him a fighting chance. Now, the man worked with a decisive ease, determined to finish the fight before it even really had the chance to turn into one.
"Stop – "
Robin steadily backed away as panic slammed into him. The air from his lungs seemed to be sucked away from an unknown source. The boy ducked, feeling Slade's hand fly over his head.
"I don't – "
Robin jumped backwards as he avoided a wide roundhouse kick. The thick edge of the mat caught his foot, and he stumbled, landing on the ground with a thud. He rolled over with a sinking feeling in his gut, knowing he'd be too slow to recover. A pressure on his back stopped him, and the boy stilled, exhaling and sinking his body into the mat. Slade's foot rested squarely against his back, but Robin noticed the force wasn't excruciating as it had been in the past. The force didn't grind his ribs into the floor and make him to gasp for breath. Instead, the foot rested lightly against his back, a mere warning as not to move.
"Slade – "
Robin tried to roll over, but the force dug a little deeper into him, holding him in place. Like a caged animal, the boy's eyes flashed around his surroundings, looking for a way out.
He wouldn't do this.
"Robin, listen to me."
The voice was closer to him now, and Robin felt two hands wrap around his shoulders. The cold claw of fear had a hold of his body, paralyzing him. The strong hands tightened their hold, and the boy inhaled a sharp breath.
Slade couldn't make him.
Time seemed to slow down. Robin was aware of his erratic breathing. He was aware of the sweat dripping from his forehead onto the ground. He was aware of the sheer terror that drove his mind into a jumbled chaos. He was aware of the man pulling him to his feet, bringing him closer to those haunting objects.
"NO."
Robin jerked back and wrenched around. The word seared in his throat in an agonizing scream as the burning in his eyes intensified. He shoved the man's hands off from his shoulders, and staggered back as pain radiated from every limb of his body.
He would not betray Batman.
Not like this.
Warmth traveled down his cheeks. Slade's form hovered in front of him, but the outline kept blurring in Robin's sight. All he could see were the weapons looming in the distance behind the man.
Guns.
Slade had so many of them.
Robin tried to fight off the whips of panic cutting into his body, but with each heartbeat, he found himself falling away. Slade couldn't do this to him. The man had to understand this was a line Robin would never cross.
There were no gray areas here.
"You need to calm down."
The words seemed so far away. His hands traveled to his face, feeling his raw skin instead of the comfort of familiar fabric. He pushed away the warm liquid that sizzled against his exposed flesh and blinked, trying to force the cold air to quell the fire within his eyes.
"I – I – "
Words fell silently on his lips. What could he say? How could he make the man understand?
The man moved forward, and Robin hurriedly stumbled back, throwing up his hands.
"Robin, let me – "
"St-Stop – " His voice was a strained whisper.
Oddly enough, Slade's blurry form didn't move any closer.
Robin closed his eyes, trying to push away the muddled emotions consuming his mind. A chaos of feelings encroached around him and within every wave of confusion, he found a cold tendril of truth winding its way deeper inside of himself. It clung onto him, whispering the harsh truth into the echoes of his panic.
If Slade really wanted him to fire a gun, the man could make him.
The click of a trigger rang in his ears, sending a deep quiet through Robin's mind.
He opened his eyes.
And spun around.
His feet plunged forward, barely hitting the mat as he sprinted ahead, adrenaline pumping through his system. He didn't turn around. He didn't look back. He just ran.
"Robin, wait – "
Warmth rushed down his face as his feet pounded against the stairs. He wasn't thinking. Robin was acting on a purely irrational fear that had been instilled in him since he had been a child. The door burst open with a loud bang as the wooden panel slammed against the wall. Robin turned towards the open hallway, but stopped dead in his tracks as Wintergreen appeared in the path.
"What on Earth?"
The older man's words slipped through Robin's ears as footsteps boomed and thundered up the stairs behind him. The boy whirled around, panic clouding his mind with each step. He blinked his eyes against the tears running down his face and turned, throwing off the wrinkled hands that tried to stop him. He ran.
The boy's feet thudded against the carpet as he sprinted away. The end of the hallway appeared in sight. Robin turned, swearing to himself, and fumbled with the doorknob to the room he had slept in. He wrenched it open.
Tears trailed down Robin's face as he stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind him, sealing away the world from his mind. With a violent sob, his legs gave way, and he fell shakily to the ground, the smooth wood trailing underneath his shirt. The quiet of the room eased his mind, sending a deep numbness through him.
He was being unreasonable.
Robin understood this.
But for Slade to even suggest –
The thought made Robin's mind collapse. He couldn't understand where the man had gotten the grand idea. Slade knew of Batman's policy regarding guns. So why was he doing this?
Robin pulled the strands of his hair as he threw his head against the door. It wasn't the most ideal hiding spot as Slade wouldn't have to look very hard to find him, but the boy couldn't face the man, not now – not like this. He needed his mask. He needed his strength. He needed to be alone to calm his racing mind.
The boy inhaled deeply, letting the air circulate through his body. He focused on creating an even, rhythmic breathing, letting his thoughts wash away from him as he slapped away his tears. He had overreacted. The boy was aware he had let panic consume his mind, but it had been an ingrained response from years of Batman's discipline. To even think about betraying his mentor by wielding a gun was unimaginably painful.
But the sight of the guns hadn't been what had caused Robin to break down in terror. It was being in the presence of someone who could force his greatest fear into a reality. The boy knew very well Slade could coerce him into doing anything the man wanted. As much as he had grown to trust the man, Robin was painfully aware of the fact that the two still differed on many subjects.
A shadow appeared from underneath the crack in the door. The boy's breathing stilled.
"Robin?"
The dim word was inches away from him.
The doorknob twisted, and the boy braced himself against it, preventing the force outside from opening it. The door moved a few centimeters, then abruptly stopped. He heard a muffled sigh.
"Move away from the door."
Robin slammed his eyes shut as he redoubled his efforts against the solid frame behind him. He would not move. He would not let Slade in. He needed to be alone. He needed to gather his thoughts and calm down. Even if any semblance of sanity seemed impossible now, the boy had to try.
Seconds passed as Robin waited for the man to leave. He remembered how this same situation had always resolved itself with Bruce. Throw up a little resistance and Bruce would always leave – too frustrated to deal with a stubborn, obstinate boy. Eight-year old Richard Grayson had gotten used to crying himself to sleep at night.
Robin blinked his blue eyes, willing the tears to stop from bleeding down his face. The forceful pressure on the door began again, and the boy pushed back, drawing from an unknown strength in his legs. The door swung open an inch, and a prickle of fear nudged him. The boy shoved back as the burn inside of his legs intensified.
"Robin, please."
The boy took a shaky breath, ignoring the pained tone that had appeared in the man's voice.
"Go away." The words just managed to slip their way under the crack of the door.
Another sigh, and the forceful pressure stopped, snapping the door closed. A few moments passed, and the shadow underneath the doorway disappeared.
Silence.
Robin counted the seconds in his mind until he had reached two minutes. The stillness in the room wormed its way into his mind. Had Slade given up already? He strained his ears but could not detect any movement or sound outside the door. The only noise that reached his ears was the sound of his own labored breathing.
A sigh escaped his lips as he relaxed his legs, flopping his limbs in front of him. For some reason, the feeling of relief that came when Bruce had left him alone, didn't come. The empty room washed through him, wrapping him in darkness. He felt numb.
Was he disappointed Slade didn't try harder? The thought drifted through his mind. Robin shook his head at the thought and stood up, ignoring the ache stretching through his mind. His eyes landed on the wide dresser next to the door. Moving with a well-rehearsed action, the boy walked alongside the dresser and pushed against it. Inch by inch the thick beast moved to block the doorway. The boy grunted with the effort but didn't stop until it covered the entrance.
No.
No, he was not disappointed.
He wanted to be left alone.
Task finished, he turned around and stared at the wooden door. Light trailed in from the hallway, dimly cutting into the dark room.
Perhaps he had thought Slade would be different than Bruce.
He closed his eyes, willing the thought away. Turns out everyone was the same. They wanted him for his abilities and nothing more. He was always just a disposable pawn in every game, and when he decided not to play along anymore, he was removed like any other nuisance.
The boy turned away, wrapping his arms around himself as he exhaled, allowing the tension to drain from his body. Reassured by the protection the dresser offered, he dropped onto the bed with a groan.
He was a mess.
Within the span of thirty minutes he had gone from trying to understand Slade to running with a panicked fire away from the man. He needed some time to think and to process everything that had occurred between the pair. What had caused Slade's sudden insistence with training with guns? To say Robin had been caught off-guard, was an understatement.
Slade was more volatile than the boy could ever imagine. One second he was a soothing presence, and in the next moment Slade brought out every demon that had ever haunted Robin.
The comforter enveloped his face as he groaned.
For the first time since Robin had arrived at the haunt, the boy seriously questioned the entire mess he had dug himself into.
What the hell was he doing anymore?
The door suddenly banged against the dresser, causing the boy to flinch. A growl of annoyance bled from Robin's lips.
"Go away," the boy muttered into the comforter as he plopped his head back down.
For a few moments, a calm silence echoed into the space, and Robin felt his body relaxing into the folds of the fabric. He closed his eyes as he exhaled, allowing the moment to consume him.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
The noise tugged at his mind.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Robin frowned, raising his head up.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
The source of the noise suddenly clicked in his brain.
The boy shoved himself off the bed in a mad panic as he realized what was going to happen moments before it did. With a loud bang, the door flung off its hinges as the last screw etched its way loose. A silhouetted figure threw the piece of wood behind him, and light flooded the dark room, momentarily blinding the boy. Robin stumbled back as the wooden dresser toppled over with a resounding crash and as the same figure walked over it, advancing into the small space.
Slade smirked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"You didn't think I'd give up that easily, did you?"
A/N: Haha gotta love how Slade is so extra :)
Mildly interesting tidbit about this scene. The last part of this chapter was originally a one-shot I had written long ago. I found it recently and realized that it could work here. I always wanted to expand it and I'm happy how it worked within the story.
Hope I made part of Slade's reasoning clear here - it will definitely be explained further in the next chapter.
As always thanks for reading - its what keeps me writing! Hope ya have a great week!