A/N: *wipes off dust from keyboard* well hellloooo there. Four months later here I am! Still as determined as ever to finish this story & still as slow at writing as ever. If you're still here, thanks for hanging around!

Another good ol' angsty chapter for you. I'm anticipating after this one, the pacing and plot are going to pick up. We've spent a long four months in Gotham (writing wise XD not story wise) so its about time I moved on.

Thanks as always for reading. Hope ya enjoy!

Chapter 39

Nightfall

There was something about the air tonight, Slade had finally decided. Warm, crisp, and a bit humid. It hung on his shoulders like a heavy coat, weight him down along with his mixture of worries.

Slade had rounded up their vehicles and managed to get them – as inconspicuously as possible – inside one of the many garages of Wayne Manor. Yet despite the job being done, he hadn't gone inside. Instead he had scaled the side of the house and hoisted himself onto one of the many balconies that overlooked the dark expanse of the trees and shadowy outline of Gotham.

They had decided to stay here for another night before heading back to Jump. Robin needed rest and time to mule over the words he wanted to say to the Titans, and Slade…well, Slade needed a drink. He pulled out the cork of the bottle of whiskey with his teeth and spit it out to the side. He watched as it trailed a precariously long way down the side of the house and onto the ground below. It wasn't like he needed it again anyway.

As the sharp taste ground its way into Slade's mouth, the man couldn't help but feel his own bitterness intensify. Alcohol never took the edge off like he needed it too. His only solace was the fact that this was at least quality whiskey.

Courtesy of Bruce Wayne, of course.

He held the bottle up in the air.

"Cheers to you, Wayne. Hopefully I won't mess the kid up anymore than you already have."

He downed about half the bottle after that remark.

He swirled the rest of the liquid in the glass container as beads of sweat began to drip down his face. Already his body had begun to expunge the toxins. The man sighed.

His conversation with Wintergreen, while illuminating, had only fraught Slade with more worry, and worry was an unusual emotion for Slade Wilson to deal with.

"You might not like this."

"I don't like a lot of things, Will."

"Well, this may take the cake."

"Should I be concerned?"

"Depends on if you believe in rumors."

Another douse of bitterness raced down his throat. What rumor had that been? Well, that the all-mighty Justice League had cut their treaty negotiations on that random, dusty planet short and were back on Earth coincidentally hanging out in none other than Jump City. And that's as far as the intel Wintergreen had collected went. He didn't know why they were there, how many of them were there, and how long they were going to be there. Heck, he didn't even know if the rumor was true.

But Slade Wilson didn't believe in coincidences.

And he had a feeling that everything was slowly slipping out of his hands.

If the League was back in town, Robin's reasoning for needing Slade just plummeted to nothing. What use was a villain to the boy now that he had the might of superheroes behind him. And if Robin decided to contact the Titans and it had been the Titans who had contacted the League, well – Slade took another long swig of the drink – he might as well pack up and go home.

Perhaps it was for the best though, Slade could wipe his hands clean of the mess and leave Robin and his life alone.

The warm air moved around Slade and rustled through the expanse of the trees. The man looked up, wiping away a bead of sweat that dangled too close to his eye.

He had watched the boy during the final moments of his conversation with Pennyworth. He had seen how Richard had responded so readily to Alfred's encouragement and guidance. There had been a warmth and affection between them that easily surpassed their mild disagreement. There had been a history there.

There had been happiness.

He had been too busy to ever talk with his sons and daughter about the trivial complications life sometimes brought.

He hardly remembered ever wrapping them within a loving embrace.

He barely remembered the sounds of their laughter.

Perhaps he was worse than Batman…

Perhaps that was why this new piece of intel – if true – was for the best…

"You never even asked me though."

"Asked you what?"

"Anything."

Richard Grayson did not need another Batman in his life.

Whatever had possessed Slade to think that blackmailing the lives of his friends would be a good way to win his loyalty? Had he really believed that over the course of the year Richard would have seen the value in Slade's training and forgotten about his friends? Had he really thought that plan would have ever ended well?

The foul taste of alcohol was the only answer the Slade had.

It was in the warmth of the bitter quiet that the question found him.

"Do you ever sleep?"

Slade turned, surprised at the form that hoisted itself over the edge and onto the balcony. His surprise, however, quickly melted into understanding. He was on the boy's home turf. Knowing Richard, the boy had probably scaled the sides of the mansion hundreds of times and knew how to climb the walls without ever making a noise. Despite the man's bitter mood, the boy's unexpected appearance and question brought the itch of a smile to his mouth.

"I do…occasionally."

The boy grunted as he pulled himself up and sat down next to the man. He crinkled his nose at the bottle in Slade's hand.

"That can't be good."

"The lack of sleep or the alcohol?"

Robin raised an eyebrow at the statement as he glanced between the man and the half-drained bottle in his hand.

"Both."

Slade snorted, wondering briefly if Richard cared he had raided Wayne's personal liquor collection.

"Then why are you still up?" he asked as he looked out over the dark expanse of Gotham.

"I don't know," the boy answered softly – almost as if he feared Slade's reaction. "You left, and it had been awhile…" There was something in the boy's voice that dragged Slade out of his thoughts.

"Were you worried about me?" he asked. The notion was a foreign concept to him; even Will had given up acting concerned about his life a long time ago.

Robin shrugged, ducking his head at the question.

"No – I – just…you never know with Gotham…"

Slade was about to prod the subject a bit more, but the boy cleared his throat, cutting through the uneasy silence.

"I just didn't realize you were up here."

The man sighed as he put the bottle down beside him where it would forever remain unfinished.

"You weren't supposed to."

Robin tensed at the words, shifting away.

"I can leave if you – "

Slade shook his head.

"Stay."

A light smile danced across the boy's face as he relaxed again, settling on the overhang. The smile burned. It cut down to Slade's core. He didn't deserve that smile, nor did he deserve the companionship the figure next to him offered. A quiet silence spread between them which was only disrupted by the shuffle of the wind through the trees.

"You know…"

Suddenly, Robin turned to face him. Pieces of hair dangled in front of his face.

"This isn't even the one with the best view."

Without waiting for a reaction or an answer, the boy sprung to his feet and nimbly started to scale the wall behind him. Words of caution died on Slade's lips as he watched the lithe figure glide up and over another balcony, scale around the side of the manor, and disappear. As much as it pained Slade to watch him climb from such precarious heights, the boy knew what he was doing.

It didn't take long for Slade to find him, and after heaving himself over the edge of the newest balcony with sweat streaming down his face from both the alcohol and warm air, the man firmly decided that he wouldn't follow Robin if he kept climbing. Luckily, the boy had settled down on a similar looking ledge and turned back to him with a wicked grin.

"Took ya long enough."

Slade snorted at the subtle jab, letting the boy relish in his small win for once.

"Better be worth it."

As Slade sat down, he wasn't prepared for how the night answered his remark. For a moment, he forgot how foul and corrupt the city was. Up here, Gotham broke apart into hundreds of brilliant shining beams of colors, all blending and mixing together into a swirl.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Robin whispered.

For once, Slade couldn't muster up a response to the question. His eye lingered on the horizon shifting to his ever-present shadow. Robin seemed so small compared to the expanse of Gotham.

"Did he always let you climb up here?" Slade asked. Robin's shoulder brushed up against his as the boy shrugged.

"Bruce never knew about it…"

Slade frowned, leaving his remaining questions unspoken. There was pain within those words, and this place, this place Robin had brought him to, seemed like a deeply personal reprieve from the pain of his childhood.

They sat in an easy silence after that, each absorbed within the layers of Gotham before them. Slade couldn't help but sense that the boy was cracking open the door to his life just a shred more. He felt, as he looked out into the skyline, that he was looking into Richard's life.

"Slade?"

His gray eye slid over to the boy.

"I know you found the entrance…or one of them at least."

Slade paused, growing still against the statement.

"I did," he responded at a length.

Richard was hesitant, treading on his words with extreme care. They tumbled out of his mouth as he tried to polish them into some sort of coherence.

"But you didn't – you didn't…"

"I did not go into the Batcave," Slade said, finishing the statement for the boy.

There was an audible exhale.

"Oh. Well…cool okay, yeah," Robin started as he rubbed his palms down his green sweatpants, "but, I mean – I don't –"

Suddenly he turned, fixing the man with his bright, blue eyes. Slade was reminded of the lights blinking on the skyline.

"Why didn't you go in?"

Immediately after he asked the question, the boy shied away, looking down at his hands. "Sorry I just – ya know – motives and things I guess…I really thought…"

"Trust is hard to rebuild, Richard," Slade said as he let the lights drift among his thoughts. However, Robin didn't lift his eyes from his hands.

A moment passed.

A breeze drifted by.

And finally, Richard Grayson looked up.

"Yeah, well….thanks, Slade," he said softly. With a deep exhale, he pushed his face back towards the skyline, his shoulder brushing against Slade's once more.

"Means more than you know."

It was then Slade realized, that no amount of intelligence on Batman could have ever come close to being more important than those words. He hesitated as he stared at the boy, possessed with an urge he hadn't had since Grant had been around. Before the more sound part of his mind could win out, he draped his arm across Robin's shoulders, lightly wrapping it around his small form.

Robin perked up against the contact from surprise, but after a few moments of internal debate, instead of pulling away, he hesitantly leaned into the touch. And bit by bit, Robin relaxed, letting out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Air drifted around their dangling feet and Slade couldn't squash the strange feeling that overcame him. He didn't know what to call the emotion, but it drifted through his mind. He had felt it a long time ago – when he still had a family and when his mercenary life had yet to become his only life.

He was too close. Richard's life and past burned into him. And while a part of Slade was thrilled with the boy's trust, another part of Slade, the one he had buried a long time ago, knew the situation before him would only end up one way.

No matter how hard he tried not to, if he let Richard Grayson get too close, he would inevitably destroy his life as he had the lives of his own family.

So, he pulled his arm away – not knowing what else to do. The boy didn't react to the action, and they remained, suspended in their own thoughts at the edge of Gotham city.

"Slade?"

"Mmm?"

"I can't help but feeling this is all going to end soon."

He glanced down and saw the etches of concern stitched into Robin's face. Slade frowned.

"I don't know how any of this is going to turn out. When the Titans find out…when we find Batman…does everything just go back to normal? I – I don't think I could…"

Unspoken words lingered, widening the ever-increasing chasm between them Slade was beginning to feel.

"You and I…a lots changed…" Robin whispered. "When this is over, is it still going to be changed?"

The question burned. And for once, Slade didn't like his own answer. Unwilling to admit the truth, the man simply said, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

"But Slade – "

"Now isn't the time to discuss this."

The words were harsher than he meant them to be. Richard recoiled slightly, and Slade felt the dregs of regret seep into him. The quiet moment and the boy's emotions had been brutally seared.

"I've bothered you enough tonight," the boy mumbled as he rose to his feet. "I'm going to head to sleep."

There was disappointment and hurt in his voice, but Robin didn't press the matter. He had gone a few paces away, before he turned back. There was a long pause of contemplation.

"Night, Slade."

The air was suddenly very cold around Slade as the last drips of alcohol drained out of his system. He listened as the boy walked away, as the pain inside of his small form grew, and as he retreated to the memories of another life. Slade clenched his fists together as the lights whittled their way inside of his brain.

Gotham was a cruel place.

"Richard."

The single word stopped the boy. It eased its way into the night, latching onto his footsteps.

"It wouldn't work. I've been over it a thousand times already."

Slade dragged his hand down his face, unwilling to face the pair of blue eyes that pounded into his back.

"My line of work is in direct opposition to yours," he continued. The words were almost as bitter as the alcohol that still stained his lips. "When this is over, neither you or I will give up what we do."

"Not everything is so cut and dry, Slade," Robin whispered.

"Which is why…" Finally, the man turned around, blocking out the light from the city as he faced the boy. "I don't want to cross that bridge yet."

"I know," Robin mumbled. He glanced up, blinked a few times, and rested his hand on the stone behind him. "I just…can you blame me for wanting it to be different?"

Slade rose to his feet, unsure of what to say. The city loomed behind them, a ghostly reminder of the past that haunted Robin.

"I don't think I could…could go back to fighting you, Slade. I don't want to fight you. You – you – "

"You're still a hero, Robin. That will never change."

"Yeah, well, how am I supposed to be a hero if I can't defend Jump against you?"

The words were sharp.

"After all of this is over, how am I supposed to consider you an enemy? Do you want me to fight you?"

"Richard – "

"Do you want everything to go back to normal? Am I the crazy one?"

His voice rose as frustration bled into the night.

"Stop."

"Don't tell me to stop."

"You need to sleep."

Richard's eyes blazed in the night. He paced forward, closing the distance between them.

"You do."

"What?"

"You do," the boy repeated fiercely, "You want us to go back to how we were."

"Stop – " Slade reached out, but Richard had already marched away – as far as he could on the cramped ledge.

"Nah, I get it, Slade," he snapped. His words were drenched with a bitterness. "Forget I ever brought it up."

Slade grabbed the boy before he could make it very far.

"I don't want that," the man responded as he dragged Richard around. The bright blue eyes blinked up at him. "But I don't know how to stop it from happening."

"Well that makes two of us."

The intensity drained from the boy as they stood there. Slade watched as he deflated, and the pain leaked through. The bright eyes fogged over, dimming with mist. Richard blinked and tried to move forward but found himself unable to move around Slade in such a small space.

Slade sighed.

"It's late. You need to sleep. If you do decide to call the Titans, think about what you want to say tonight. I'll have a plan figured out by morning. We'll head back to Jump tomorrow."

The boy nodded but said nothing. Slade stepped away and his eye focused back onto the skyline. As beautiful as the view was, there was a subtle violence to the lights. They swirled and twisted with a biting chaos, bleeding into the dark night.

"Besides…I think I've had enough of Gotham for a lifetime."

"Well that makes two of us."

Slade breathed a sigh of relief at the lightness in the boy's tone and when he turned back, he found a small smile on the boy's lips.

"Goodnight, Richard," Slade said softly.

He should have let the boy walk away. He should have left the chasm between them. He should have never made the move to cross it. He should have never let himself get this close.

Too close.

Because, later, it would only make the pain greater.

But there was still a subtle slouch to the boy's shoulders.

There was still a heavy air that weighed Richard's footsteps down.

So, Slade reached out.

His hands shook with an uncertainty as he wrapped them around the moving form in front of him. He pulled Richard towards him, enveloping the boy within his arms. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough. When he pulled away, there was a brightness in the boy's eyes – a gentle reassurance. Richard stepped back, pausing, thinking, seeing. Then without another sound, the boy moved off, scaling down the ledge again. Only his words remained behind.

"Goodnight, Slade."

A/N: Don't worry bout the Justice League, Slade is still going to hang around.

Ah I think this is going to be the last fluff chapter before the final chunk of action starts. Hopefully I'll get a few more chapters knocked out & it won't be another 4 months before I update *eye roll at myself*

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you're doing well. :)

Thanks as always for reading. Hope you enjoyed.