A/N: *peers up from hiding* Hello! I disappeared again - sigh - sorry. I think I have finally accepted the fact that I will just be sporadically updating this story. I refuse to give up on it even thought it's been a long time...

So thanks for sticking with me. Your reviews have been so kind and encouraging - sorry for making you wait.

I'll have a lot of time on my hands this summer, so I'm hoping to make some decent progress. I also have a few one-shots in the works that I'll post soon!

For a bit of a recap: Robin is going undercover as Slade's apprentice to do some reconnaissance on the Joker's whereabouts. The Joker has a crazed plan to make a bunch of clones and has already made a clone of Batman. Robin and Slade are rightly concerned and are on the case!

Enjoy!

Chapter 34

Haunting

Robin had often wondered how the criminals of Gotham operated. In the streets of Gotham, the boy had learned that there was a hierarchy of criminals and the ones at the top of the hierarchy were basically untouchable. The Joker was on the do-not-disturb list, and most of the lesser-known criminals stayed out of the clown's way and instead fought for smaller chunks of territory among themselves. As a young boy, he had pictured all the criminals sitting at a large round table and dividing up blocks of the city to terrorize, creating boundaries and limits to each mini-empire.

His younger self hadn't been far from the truth.

Instead of a table however, there was a large, open room.

Smoke wafted through the air and eyes turned to focus on their shapes as they emerged into the darkness.

There were a series of unspoken rules that allowed the criminals to co-exist. It was odd. In many ways, criminals were more like heroes than Robin actually cared to admit. And there was one rule that hung in the air around even the most meager of villains.

You snitch…

Hard eyes swung to Robin.

You die.

A moment of panic bit into him. There were a few vaguely familiar faces amongst the dispersed group, but none that Robin clearly remembered. Most of these individuals were the lower rung criminals – the ones who kept their crimes buried beneath the shadows of the larger villains.

He had probably been responsible for a few of them or their friends going to jail at one point in time.

Did they recognize him?

There was a slight pressure on his shoulder, drawing him out of his thoughts. Slade's presence eased the anxiety coursing through him. It was as if the man always knew the thoughts racing through his head. Robin pushed away his lingering fears, straightening up against their weight. Even if any of the criminals did recognize him, the most powerful mercenary in the country was standing less than a foot away from him.

A drop of sweat burned down his face and dripped onto the floor.

What could go wrong?

His eye swept through the room, running over the familiar faces. Slade hardly forgot someone who crossed his path, and he had run across most of the criminals in the space during his contracts once or twice. The others he knew from his detailed records of the criminal empires of Gotham. It never hurt to stay connected. One never knew whose help you'd need.

Slade wasn't dumb. He didn't pretend to be entirely self-sufficient. In a game like this, it was always good to have allies.

One of the men rose from the table as smoke drifted from his mouth. It lingered in the air, floating above his head. He felt Robin tense next to him and resisted the urge to turn around and try to calm his young apprentice. Robin needed to appear at ease if any of this was going to work.

Eyes in the room were slowly trickling over to the pair. Showing up with a sidekick unannounced was certainly going to cause a bit of a stir in the criminal community.

"Deathstroke."

Slade's attention shifted away from the anxious boy and to the group before him, scanning the faces for the one who had spoken. Honestly, why was the boy so nervous? Robin was standing beside the most feared mercenary in the country.

All of this was child's play really.

What could go wrong?

Words rushed over his head as the boy's eyes glanced around. His fingers twitched at his sides, eager to have the metal protection of a bo-staff between him and the villains around him. He followed Slade as the armed mercenary approached the group in front of him. Something warm slid down his face and Robin resisted the urge to draw more attention to the droplet of sweat precariously dangling off the edge of his cheek.

His heart thumped in his ears as his eyes flickered around the room. The space was small and there was a dense draft floating through the floors. There was something underneath them – what exactly, Robin wasn't sure.

"It sure has been awhile since we've seen you around here."

The conversations in the room had dimmed considerably and Robin could feel eyes hovering over their forms. Slade sure managed to attract a lot of attention.

"I've been busy," Slade responded coolly. If Slade didn't have the mask on, Robin could have sworn the man had raised an eyebrow at the statement. "So have you."

The two men regarded each other for a few moments, until the man's eyes glanced beyond Slade and settled on Robin's form. Curiosity. It screamed from the criminal's eyes.

"So, you're Deathstroke's new kid, huh?"

Robin's fingers twitched from the comment, but the action wasn't a result from being associated with Slade. Rather, it was the 'kid' remark that always got to him. A couple of seconds ticked by, and Robin opened his mouth, grasping at just what snarky remark would squash the whole 'kid' thing but not anger Slade. He was running through a list of options when Slade solved the problem for him.

"He is."

Robin glanced at the black and orange form, a bit disappointed and a bit relieved. The two-worded reply closed any further discussion on the topic and while curiosity still gleamed in the man's eyes, he wisely made no further comment on the shadow following Slade. Instead, he cleared his throat and shifted his attention fully back to the masked man.

"What do you need?"

"Information. The Dealer around?" Slade responded smoothly. Gradually the conversations in the room started up again, but the volume stayed at a low rumble and there were still many pairs of eyes that lingered in their direction.

The man offered a small smile and jerked his head to the back of the room and to a dingy looking hallway.

"He's always around – never bloody leaves."

There were a few chuckles from the group behind him and Robin's unease grew. Slade nodded and then turned, briefly glancing down at his form.

"Stay here."

Robin blinked.

Had Slade lost his mind?

Stay here!

Was the man about to leave him stranded in the middle of a bunch of criminals?

Robin opened his mouth to protest but then promptly shut it when he met the man's gaze. A gray eye bore into him with a dark fury, and a warning echoed in his mind.

This may not be real, but I expect you to play the part.

Slade's apprentice wouldn't be one to question his commands, so instead, Robin painfully swallowed his protest and nodded. If Slade was going to leave him alone, the boy had to trust that the man knew what he was doing. As Slade moved toward the door, Robin couldn't help but grimace as his beacon of orange and black was extinguished by the darkness. Warmth rolled down his skin and he flexed his hands uneasily, suddenly feeling like he had been thrusted on display. His eyes flashed around, realizing that with Slade's departure, the villains had no issues openly staring at him. He shifted his feet, wondering just what he should do. While everyone in the room looked oddly ordinary, he didn't think anyone would take too kindly to a stranger trying to strike up a conversation with them.

Droplets raced down his cheek and dripped to the floor as the seconds ticked by. Maybe he should just go in the corner and sulk? Villains sulked, right? He remembered Superman doing it a few times when he and Batman had argued. Maybe he could do the same thing here. It seemed fitting for Slade's demeanor. The mercenary never had a friendly appearance. Sulking seemed to fit the image a bit more.

With a more confident action in mind, Robin scanned the room for a dark corner that he could sink away within. A cough inadvertently caused him to glance to his left at the man who Slade had been talking with. The moment he made eye-contact with the man, the boy realized his mistake.

"So…"

A grin broke out on the man's face, but it was one that didn't reach his cold eyes.

"You're Deathstroke's new kid, huh?"

How could he have already messed up the sulking act?

Robin cringed to himself and his eyes quickly swept the room, suddenly aware of three things:

One – everyone was watching him, more overtly than they had watched Slade.

Two – he was expected to answer this time.

Three – he was royally pissed at Slade for leaving him alone.

Instead of answering, Robin simply nodded and shifted a bit back. He couldn't disappear to a corner now without appearing strange. His eyes swept the room again as he began counting the bodies that stood between him and the doorway; there were a few too many for his comfort. Subconsciously, his hand dipped to his bo-staff, comforted by the familiar smoothness of the metal.

"Mmm a quiet one, are you?"

His eyes flashed back to the man as a few chuckles drew Robin's eyes to the group next to him. A second figure jostled the man who had spoken.

"Leave the poor kid alone. Deathstroke probably threatened to cut his tongue out if he speaks."

The boy grimaced at the description which evoked a few more chuckles from the group. The man stood, and Robin immediately turned, sizing up the potential threat as he cocked his head to the side. His eyes raced over the man's burly form. He couldn't be over thirty from the looks of it, yet the man's youth did not dissuade Robin from the power that remained locked within his form. Scars laced his arms, bleeding up his frame. The scars continued all the way to the man's eyes. Deep within the cold irises Robin could see the scars from an unwanted past which forced the boy to pause. He had seen the same look in the mirror many times before.

Robin narrowed his eyes. He could hold his own against the man if needed, but then he'd probably have to deal with his friends, and the boy couldn't imagine Slade would be too happy with that. Besides Slade seemed to respect this man. From the subtle cues Robin had learned to read over the past days, he recognized when Slade held someone with higher regards then normal. Why had he bothered to address the man at all? He could have just marched through to see if this 'Dealer' was there himself. So, despite the towering frame and harsh exterior, Robin wasn't intimidated. Rather, he was quite curious.

"What's your name?"

The boy internally cursed himself as his mind suddenly blanked. A name. He had never decided on a name, and if he didn't answer this question, he'd just look downright weird.

"Quicksilver," Robin blurted out suddenly and as a few chuckles from the group behind the man reached his ears, he immediately regretted the choice. * His cheeks flushed red as he shifted his feet. Since when had he cared so much about what a bunch of criminals thought?

A strange glint entered the man's eyes, but unlike the group he didn't laugh. Instead, a hand appeared in front of him, and the boy simply stared at it. Did he really expect a hand shake? Was this how criminals met? Just like civilians? With a mere handshake?

"The name's Sam."

Robin raised an eyebrow at the name as he stared at the man. The man raised an eyebrow right back and dropped the extended hand with a shrug.

"Not everyone runs around with a fancy name."

The boy couldn't hold back the smile that crept on his face at the statement.

"No, I don't suppose they do."

Sam mirrored the smile at the words.

"Ah so you do have a voice. You all owe me a hundred bucks on that one," the man said with a glance behind him.

There was a grumble from the group behind the man, and Robin raised an eyebrow. He'd been here for less than five minutes and they had already started placing bets on him. At Robin's glare, the man shrugged and sat down.

"Never quite know what Slade drags in these days. Last we heard, he'd kidnapped some hero kid. In fact, he looked a lot like you. Around the same age probably."

Robin stiffened as the man continued.

"Short though. Way shorter than you. Why Slade would even bother with someone that short was beyond me."

The boy bristled at comment but was at a loss for words. He frowned, hyperaware of the platform boots that added a good, few inches to his height. What was so wrong with being short?

Before he could pester the man with the question, Sam turned, setting his hard eyes on the boy.

"So, what's your story? How'd you end up in the devil's clutches?"

Robin swore the man's eyes could pierce right through his mask.

Gradually, he turned and shrugged. "Just did, I suppose," Robin responded ambiguously.

Sam shook his head. "Either crazy or desperate then."

Robin flinched at the accuracy of the statement and the man's cold eyes softened. He paused and then reached over the counter he was sitting at and pulled out a dark brown bottle.

"Want a drink?" he asked.

Robin shook his head and the man shrugged, grabbing the bottle and pouring himself a glass. An uneasy silence settled between them, and the conversation from the room washed around the pair. The boy briefly considered slinking away to a corner, but for some reason, he felt obligated to the person next to him. This situation was giving him a headache. A part of him was terrified of moving anywhere around the room, yet another part of him was terrified of the questions the man to the left of him was bound to ask.

A couple of mercenaries passed by Robin, looking as if they wanted to approach him out of curiosity, but at the last second, they swerved away. The boy furrowed his brows in confusion. Perhaps Slade's reputation was like an invisible forcefield around him. His confusion quickly lifted, however, when he caught Sam shoot another person who lingered too close a pointed glare.

Robin frowned, leaning up against the counter as he glanced at the man.

"I can handle myself."

The man moved the glass, scraping it across the counter. "I know. It's everyone else in the room I'm worried about."

At Robin's confused face, Sam elaborated.

"Slade wouldn't take kindly to people poking around in his business. I'd rather most of us survive the night."

"And what are you doing?"

The man laughed, lifting his glass. "I've worked for Slade on and off for ten years. I, at least, know how to poke the bear and survive."

At the statement, Robin's eyes lifted. Here was someone who probably had a gateway of knowledge into Slade's mercenary life. The man couldn't have been much older than himself when he had started working for Slade. Perhaps it was a good thing Slade had left him out here.

"What do you do for him?" Robin asked as he leaned forward.

The man shook his head, however, as if he had already anticipated the question. "You'll have to ask him."

Robin sighed. So much for that.

A loud crash echoed from the hallway and boomed throughout the small room, shaking Robin out of his muddled thoughts. The boy jerked in surprise, dropping his hand down to his bo-staff and looking around in alarm. Oddly enough, no one else seemed to notice. Every person in the room continued with their conversations as if the crash had been expected.

The man leaned back in his chair with a smug expression on his face.

Smoke drifted from the floorboards and Robin looked over at his unlikely companion with growing alarm. Sam laughed, shaking his head which only made Robin frown in annoyance.

"You must be new to working with your boss. The Dealer operates from the basement, and let's just say Deathstroke has interesting conversation styles."

Robin stared at the smoke.

Interesting, indeed.

Another crash echoed through the space, and Sam turned to face him. The light bounced off the man's face, highlighting a long-jagged scar along his jawline.

"Alright kid, that's my cue. Your boss will be back in a few minutes."

"What – "

"Word of advice. Slade's a good man but none of Deathstroke's kids ever end up alive. His first one went insane and the last one – well no one knows what happened to her."

Robin had to force his face to remain neutral at the statement. Slade had two apprentices before him? And they both went insane? Chills crawled up his arms, shrinking deep inside his spine.

From now on, I want you to call me Master.

Slade's words during the apprenticeship had been cold, lifeless, and dark enough to drive the strongest of individuals insane after a while. Just what had happened in Slade's past? Every time Robin thought he had overturned all the stones of the man's history, another five appeared, heavier than the last ones. A harsh grip on his arm brought him back to reality. The two cold eyes bore into his body with a desperate sense of urgency.

"Get out while you can."

Robin paused as the words washed over him. A few tendrils of fear dug into his spine. Another crash echoed through the room and this time a few heads turned in the direction. Batman's masked face appeared in his mind, wafting through the smoke in the room. The Caped Crusader was a constant shadow in his head, always lingering just beyond Robin's reach.

"I don't have a choice," the boy muttered just loud enough so Sam barely caught the edge of his words.

The man's eyes flashed with concern and then cleared, hardening again like Robin had never said anything.

The Dealer apparently had given Slade some news he didn't like.

According to the group of men around Robin, it happened quite a bit. No one flinched when Slade stormed out of the hallway, marched passed staring eyes without a glance, and headed outside. No one blinked when Robin followed the man without a word.

Robin followed Slade wordlessly as the pair wound their way through the alleyways of Gotham. He hadn't immediately harassed Slade for information, surprising himself and Robin assumed Slade as well. Instead, words lingered in his mind.

Was he going insane too?

The boy shook himself as prickles of anger washed through him. It was this anger mixed with his innate curiosity that overrode any remaining dregs of self-preservation and caused the boy to draw his bo-staff and swing it at the back of Slade's head. The man just barely managed to whip and block the staff with the edge of his forearm. A loud crack echoed down the length of the alleyway and Slade's gray eye widened in alarm, surprise, and what Robin had begun to recognize as an edge of annoyance.

The boy disengaged and before Slade could speak, spat out the words that had been bothering him.

"You left me."

Slade's mask stared back at him, giving Robin no inkling as to what the man was thinking.

"I didn't leave you."

"You left me surrounded by a pit of villains!"

The man cocked his head to the side as he spoke. "If you consider lower tiered criminals villains, then yes, I suppose so."

Robin growled, pointing the end of the staff at Slade's face. "That's beside the point and you know it. What the hell Slade?"

A sigh escaped the man's lips as his eye wandered over the alleyway they were currently in.

"You were fine, Robin. You can handle yourself." The man shrugged casually – an action that still looked odd for the man's menacing form. "Besides Sam's a good conversationalist."

Robin stuttered, turning away and then let out a bitter grunt of frustration.

"Hope he didn't say anything too indicting about me."

Robin turned back around, gazing at Slade's form. The comment had been off-handed and casual, but perhaps Slade had anticipated the risk of leaving Robin alone with a figure of his past. As if sensing the edge of a question, Slade glanced up. His gray eye narrowed in concern, but Robin simply shook his head. There would be time for questions later; he had larger issues with the man plaguing him at the moment.

"I don't need a babysitter, Slade," Robin yelled as he waved the bo-staff around. "If I play along, that means you need to act the part as well. And I know for a fact that you would have dragged your apprentice behind you into the pit of hell itself. I could have handled whoever this 'Dealer' person was."

Slade paused, studying his form. Robin's hands twitched with anger, but he resisted the urge to use his bo-staff again. The first time had merely been a way to get the man's full attention. Getting into a full-fledged fight with the masked man now would be counter-productive to the mission at hand. Slade lifted his mask off and set it on the ground, and Robin felt some of the tension in his body dissipate. It was easier to talk to a face than a mask.

"The less you know about the Dealer the better."

His fingers twitched again, and Robin shook his head as a deep bitterness twisted its way into his words.

"You don't trust me."

Slade approached him slowly, pausing just before him. Robin felt a hand settle on his shoulder.

"I trust you."

A twitch of a smile ghosted the corners of Slade's lips as he squeezed the boy's shoulder. "I just knew you would disapprove of my negotiating tactics, and I'm trying to save some time here."

The boy's anger flared and he slapped the man's hand away.

"That's bull and you know it. I've seen you at your worst, and I can handle it."

The words were ground out between his teeth and crumbled into little bits on the murky street. If Robin could have picked up the remnants of his words, mashed them into a massive ball and hurled it at the man's face, he would have.

"Don't do it again," they boy hissed as he gazed at Slade. Memories of Gotham flooded around him, pressing down on his back. The darkness was like a cape around him, locking him within the battles of his memory.

I want to go!

It's too dangerous.

Batman –

Stay here.

Robin clenched his fists together.

Stay here.

He shut his eyes.

Stay here.

He looked down at his boots as the words roared in his mind as a piece of his heart cracked. They were all the same. Both of them.

"Don't do what Batman did to me."

Robin's eyes burned. He didn't want to think about it. The realization had slammed into him as they had left the criminal warehouse of why it had bothered him so much.

The first two went insane…

This hadn't been the first time he'd been left out, set aside, and locked away. It was why he had left all those years ago.

And the last one…

The night pressed around him as Robin closed his eyes.

No one knows what happened to her.

The boy remembered why he had never gone back to Gotham now. The night breathed of Batman. The Caped Crusader's presence was everywhere. It was suffocating. He ran his hand through his silver hair feeling the chalky substance between his fingertips.

Everywhere.

It lingered behind him, gripped his shoulder, and turned him around. Robin felt the crusader's cape wrap around his body and squeeze the air out of his lungs, pull his breath into the air, and steal it away.

"I won't."

Robin blinked as the sensation of the cape fluttered to the ground. Slade stood before him with both hands on his shoulders and stared deep within his eyes. The night was rebuffed by the man's tall presence and for a brief moment, the boy felt sheltered from Batman's haunting aura.

"I'm sorry."

A breath escaped Robin's lips, deflating his entire figure.

"It's fine, Slade," the boy whispered, dropping his eyes.

A sigh reached Robin's ears. "No, it's not."

For a split second, the boy thought Slade would dissect the statement more and push the subject, but it was neither the time nor the place. The pair would sort their issues out later, and both oddly understood that there was quite a bit that had been unearthed that needed to be dealt with without either verbally acknowledging the fact.

With a deep breath, Robin tried to push the remaining anger out of his system and start fresh. But an annoyed piece of the boy still wished he had gotten a chance to see who this 'Dealer' was in Gotham. There was so much information he could gain about the criminal world here in the city that could be used in the future, but alas it appeared Slade would still try and play games around him. He looked up and met Slade's gray eye, aware of the fact the man was still watching him.

He was aggravated, stressed, and upset, but at least, he had won this battle with Slade.

The boy put his bo-staff away. "So, what did you find?"

Slade dropped his hands and stepped back.

"The Joker came through a few months ago searching for some chemical compounds. The Dealer sold all of his inventory, but that psychopath still needed more." Slade growled, taking a deep breath. "The Dealer put him in contact with some suppliers – for a price of course."

Robin raised his eyebrows.

"Just like that?"

Slade shrugged. "Money talks and the Dealer doesn't care who's paying – even if it is a psychotic clown who wants to destroy Gotham."

Robin rubbed his forehead. If what Slade was saying was true, then the Joker had pieced together an arsenal of supplies from individuals all around the city. Tracking them down would be a headache of a mess, but it was the most viable way to find the location of the Joker's haunt.

Robin looked up at the inky sky and wanted to disappear within its depths. The armor hung uncomfortably on his arms and legs. His hair smelled and looked bizarre. And he felt like Batman's gaze lingered over him with every twist and turn of the corner.

Everything was wrong.

Slade tapped his shoulder and Robin realized the man had already put his mask back on and was moving forward.

Trace the supplies and find the deliveries – there was a mission he needed to focus on.

The black and orange figure blurred against the night.

For the second time that night, Robin questioned if he was doing the right thing by following.

A/N: *Quicksilver is not the actual name he decides on, so don't worry if you hate it!

I originally had a much different intention with this chapter, and I think that's why it forced me off the writing train. I wanted Robin to start some shenanigans among the criminal group that Slade had to step in and solve, but i don't know, it just wasn't working. I may add some mischief in next chapter, but this is how it ended up. I think I'm happy with it as it evoked a different problem within Slade and Robin's relationship. *shrugs* but lemme know what you think!

Also if Slade's actions seem a bit weird, I'll flush them in the next chapter!

A note on the story as a whole - I've realized that it has taken quiet a bit of time to even get to Batman, but my main intention with the story has always been to flush out the dynamic between Slade and Robin. Some things came up that pulled the story off the plot a bit, but I've enjoyed pushing the characters into different situations. So sorry if it feels a bit like a drag, I just have enjoyed playing out different scenarios, but I will get to the point of the story soon.

Thanks for reading! It keeps me writing!