Disclaimer: I've said it once and I'll say it again. Teen Titans are not mine! They aren't, so stop badgering me about it! I'm not a millionaire or billionaire like Bruce Wayne people! I can't afford buying them! They belong to DC and WB! How many times will I have to say that (every chapter is my personal guess, exasperated sigh)?
Author's Note: Alright Chapter Five's up! I've been trying to find time to write this the entire week. So I'm very glad that I was able to get it done. I hope you readers enjoy it! I think it turned out very well. Thanks for all of the awesome reviews by the way! I love hearing your thoughts and opinions. Now, onto Chapter Five!
What?
Chapter Five
I sighed.
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, feeling almost defeated. Almost. He turned me to a set of stairs. They led to a platform below, closer to the monitors. I could swear that he was smiling.
"Down there if you would," He said.
He led the way down the steps, never taking his hand off of my shoulder. It was unnerving. Once we got down, he basically pushed me into the center. Another light shot on and I looked up, covering my eyes with my arm. I felt his hand leave my shoulder and so I looked over for him. I heard him snap his fingers. I saw a few Sladebots appear behind him and put myself in a fighting stance.
He chuckled, "Oh no, Robin. No scheduled fights today."
The way he said 'scheduled' hinted that they could still break out. I tensed. If there were no 'scheduled' fights, then why did he just summon those metallic pieces of garbage? 'Maybe I shouldn't say that's what I think they are around him,' I mentally noted to myself. As if he read my mind, my question was answered.
"The next few days will be...observations," He told me. Observations?
"What do you mean by 'observations'?" I asked.
"I might have plenty of knowledge about you, Robin, but there's always more to learn. Quite bluntly, I will be monitoring you, while training you at the same time. But as of now, I'm not exactly training you. More so, I'm getting information," He said this like it would be an everyday conversation.
I felt suddenly violated. No way! No sick, stupid way would I ever let him 'observe me'! And what did he mean 'getting information'? I'm not sharing my life's story if that is what he thinks! The Titans barely know about my past and all they really know is that I lived and worked in Gotham when I was younger! Nothing new! If Slade thought that he was going dive into anything that deep, he must be insane.
He snapped again and the Sladebots practically surrounded me. Two grabbed my arms and held them up horizontally to the floor. Another seemed to be taking measurements of different lengths of my body. It was the opposite of what I expected.
"How does that suit feel on you?" He inquired.
I turned my gaze from the Sladebots to him, a bit startled. I thought for a second, which was a bit hard because the Sladebot taking measurements had just flattened my hair down onto my head. I scowled at the thing and let it do its job. Turning my anger to Slade was my instinct. So I did.
"Well, it's a bit constricting in the shoulder areas and the gloves are a little tight on my fingers and wrists. The leather isn't all that comfortable on the legs, especially around the knees either. But then again, maybe it's just cause you had to kick me to the floor earlier and I had to feel your disgusting grip on my wrists," That got him at least a little annoyed.
"How about you try that again and I won't kill those so-called friends of yours," He was so cold and bitter. Why did he say 'so-called'? They were still my friends, right?
I bit my lip and started again, "I'm not really used to it yet. It's still new, but the gloves are constricting. I think they're a little small."
"Better answer."
I mentally hit myself. With Slade, I didn't know exactly how far I could push him. Where was the limit? All I knew was that I couldn't push enough because if I pushed too hard... they'd suffer the consequences. I looked down. Finally, the Sladebots went off to the sides. I saw him circle me again and I tensed in response.
"You have a good structure, but you have to eat more. You're as thin as a toothpick, Robin," I wrinkled up my face. I don't need to eat more! All right, so I do. Ah! I hate it when he's right. I felt my chin gently lifted up to meet the eyes of my captor. I take that back, to meet the eye of my captor.
"Being sour with me, won't do you much good, Robin," I swiftly stepped away from him and he laughed.
"Do me a favor. Go into a handstand, with a back-bridge," He said.
Why? Why did he want me to do that? What made him think that... I saw that trigger come into view again, if only casually. I went into a handstand and felt the blood rush to my head. His eye never wavered from me. Two upside-down boots came into view. I held my breath hoping by all means that they wouldn't kick me and break my nose. Looking up, I saw Slade towering over me...and how close he was to my feet. I was sorely tempted to kick him in the face, but decided against it. One, I would probably get kicked right back and lose my eye. Two, I was already on thin ice.
"Blood getting to your head?" He asked. Of course it was! I was, after all, human! It's not like I can manipulate the blood in my veins.
I lied and I could swear that he smiled, "No."
"Well, you can get back up if you want now," He responded.
I got back on my feet, careful not to touch him. I was slightly grateful that he didn't hit me or something for lying. Then again, why would he? He wanted me to... ahhh! I wanted to rip my hair out. Whenever I lied, I was becoming more and more like him and every other criminal out there. Didn't Red X teach me that? Or... was I starting to brush it off already?
"Give me another bridge," Slade commanded.
I kept the bitterness on my face, but obeyed and went back into a handstand. That was a mistake. I felt my hands lose contact with the floor as my arms were kicked out from under me. I fell to the floor and, confused, looked up at Slade. Why on earth did he just do that? What was it this time?
"I asked for a bridge, Robin, not a handstand," He conveyed to me.
He wanted a bridge and not a handstand. Couldn't he have just told me my mistake and not have risked giving me a bloody nose? Apparently not. This guy was going to wear me thin, and by thin, I mean paper thin. It shouldn't be so hard to do, since I'm already 'as thin as a toothpick'. Paper thin is only the next step!
He stared at me. I growled, but did nothing, reminding myself this wasn't the time for sarcasm. I went into the bridge. He walked around me and looked at me or I guess 'observed' me. When I felt a hand go under my back, I was startled and tried to get up. I was stopped by another hand on my stomach.
"What are you doing?" I asked, a little annoyed.
"How close can you get your arms and legs together in this situation?" The question answered mine.
"Uh, I don't know. Close?" I said with a gasp. 'What did it matter anyway?'
"Show me."
I moved my hands closer to my legs. With every inch closer, I became more strained. Soon I must have been somewhere around two feet, maybe a little more. My muscles were tight. I looked up again at him, waiting for him to say something. For about a minute he just stared at me, probably mentally evaluating me or something along those lines.
"Try a little closer," Slade said.
My face must have shown disbelief. My arched back already was as far as it could go. My muscles were so tight that it felt like they'd snap back like a rubber band. And now he's telling me to go closer? Is he trying to make me believe he's sane! If he is, he's doing a lousy job of it!
"I can't go any farther. I'm not built that way, Slade," I gasped out.
"Oh yes you can. You're human and that means you have the basic build everyone has. So you can get closer," I was really starting to hate these lectures in the way a kid hates to eat broccoli or vegetables. I shook my head 'no'.
"Do it," He said.
I shook my head 'no' again, "I can't!"
Something in his eye changed. I felt his foot firmly, but gently press on my toes. The hand that had been on my stomach moved to the top of my chest and began to press me back. To stay up, I had to move my hands slowly back. It hurt and I gasped out bits of pain. My back was screaming, begging for relief.
I looked up at him and bit my lip to stop myself from pleading. I knew that my face was getting red from what I was being put through and the blood in my head made me feel like I was holding up a bowling ball from my neck. I felt bits of sweat run down, or up, my cheeks and forehead. If Slade's hand had not been under my back, I would have given into the pressure by now.
When I thought I'd break like a twig, he stopped. I could feel my chest rising and lowering. I squeezed my eyes closed in relief that he stopped. Slade showed no signs of sympathy. Then again, all I could really see was his eye.
"About a foot and three fourths apart, Robin. You could go further," his hand left my back and I collapsed on the hard floor.
I rolled over and away from him. My back was having trouble going back into its natural position. I ground my teeth as I curled my back until it was straight again. My breath was still labored. Once I was able to kneel, I got up and found myself looking at those boots, again.
"When I say you can do something, Robin, you can. There are no "I can'ts" with me. I am not going to ask you to do something that you physically can't do for one reason or another. When I ask, I will know what you can do and what you are capable of doing. Do you understand that?" He was being very blunt with me.
The pit of my stomach dropped out, "Yes."
"Good," He grabbed my arms and put me back on my feet. As soon as I was up, I tried to move away from his grasp. This time, his hold was tighter and it took longer for me to get myself away from him. He chuckled at me. Man, I hate that laugh. I couldn't stand it, so I turned my head away.
My mind pondered what he had just said and I was surprised again to find that his logic made sense. Technically, I was able to go closer. He somehow knew I could. It was probably because he had seen how flexible I was in the past but... I mentally begged that that would be one of the few times that Slade's logic would actually be logical.
I was pulled out of my trance, "You hungry?"
My stomach suddenly growled. I was and after that thing, that was plain and clear to Slade. He took me by the shoulder and directed me to a side corridor. We walked down the hall, neither of us saying anything. Once we got to the end, an elegant table met my eye. It wasn't furnished with a table cloth or candles or anything of the sort. But the wood seemed delicate from the design. Most likely a hand done carving in it and the wood looked like polished mahogany. It gleamed.
Two chairs were at the ends of the tables, both with the same sorts of carvings. Slade led me over to one end and pulled out the chair. I noticed it was a bit smaller than the other. He then went to the opposite end of the table to the other chair. I sat down and scooted in. For a couple minutes, we just sat there. I kept my head down trying not to look at him, although I think he had his eye on me the entire time.
It was then that I really took note of the carvings in the wood. They were undeniably hand-carved. The designs were too intricate and detailed not to be. Many different symbols were here and there. Some I caught were simple to find: clouds, lightning, rubies, diamonds, birds... I was unfortunate enough to see a few others: dead, thorny roses, a machete, a whip, a regular old knife. As I moved from the outside in, I saw the center piece of the design: A defining 'S'. It reminded me whose table I was sitting at.
My nose caught a whiff of something that smelled that smelled...good. An old man came into view, carrying a silver tray. He walked around to my side of the table and placed the tray in front of me. As the cover was lifted, I felt my jaw drop a bit. Placed before my very eyes were pieces of honey-baked ham, stuffing, rice, crushed blueberries in a paste, a ceaser salad with ranch dressing and sparkling cider. I was thoroughly shocked. By instinct I turned my head to Slade. 'What?'
"Did you think I'd starve you? You're already thin enough. If anything, I'm giving you the nutrition you've been depriving yourself of lately," He sounded like he was conversing with a business owner.
I looked down at the food. I didn't trust this. What if there was something in the food? What if there were sleeping pills? Or what if there was something that could do big time damage to my body? I dismissed the second possibility. Sleeping pills, though, were still in the playing field.
Knowing that he'd make me eat eventually, I took a bite of the ham and proceeded to finish what I could. I avoided the rice and blueberries just in case of pills. He didn't eat a thing. He just watched me. When I was done, I scooted out of the chair. I heard him get up and paused. He stepped right in front of me.
"I don't believe you've finished. And dinner isn't over," he sounded like something very familiar, but I don't think I wanted to place it. I brushed it off.
"I'm full. I don't think I could swallow another bite," 'Please take that.'
He shook his head. Our eyes met. I just stared hoping that I wasn't betraying my longing to have maybe a little bitten more. He turned me to the chair and sat me down. I looked up at him annoyed.
"Every teenage boy should be able to swallow this down his throat, especially after not having any food the entire day. You might not eat a lot, but you should be able to finish," He scooted my chair into the table.
"I told you, I'm full. If I took another bite, I'd probably be sick," I felt his hands bring my shoulders back, "Hey!"
"Posture, Robin," he said as he brought my wrists up to the table top.
"What?" I pulled my hands out of his grip.
He stared at me, eye narrowed, "For breakfast and lunch I won't be joining you all too often, but I will be with you for every dinner."
"What does that have to do with me having posture at the table?" I asked, irritated.
"You've agreed for me to be your teacher, did you not? You would give a teacher respect, would you not? This is the level of respect you'll give me at the table," He told me.
My jaw must have disconnected or something, 'cause I could have sworn that I felt the floor under my chin. He wanted what? There aren't enough words in the entire collection of language dictionaries to describe (more specifically insult) this guy. As he crossed back to his chair, I stared at him with resentment.
"You can stop giving me that look, Robin. It's not earning you any points," I stared down at the table, away from him, "While you eat your dinners, I will give you evaluations of the day and what you did. Plain and simple."
Even though I hadn't eaten anything more, I already felt sick. Great. Just great. Insults while I eat. I'd rather have peace and quiet. Really, I would. After about five minutes, I gave in and ate what I could (spreading it out on the dish so that I didn't have to eat as much). I wondered how I had gotten into this. 'Why me? Why not someone else? Did it have to be me?' Once I was done, I put my fork down and waited. Soon he broke the silence.
"As for evaluation today, Robin, you did all right for day one. I wasn't expecting much more then what you gave," he said. I didn't budge or give any sign of acknowledgement. I wasn't there. I was elsewhere in my mind.
"Something wrong, Robin?" He inquired.
I was a little surprised that he asked. I thought for a moment. 'Should I ask? Why would he care? What should it matter if he cared or not?' I decided to risk it anyway.
"Why?" I asked.
"Hm?"
"Why me? Why not someone else? Like one of the HIVE or another criminal? Why me? Why did you choose me?" I waited. I could be patient for this answer.
He shook his head and got up, walking over to me. I stayed planted in my seat, not wanting to see him. He had to be smirking, "Now surely you can figure that one out, Robin."
If I could, my mind didn't want me to. So I shook my head 'no'. I wanted to hear his answer first. I didn't want him to ask me dozens of questions so I could get it on my own. Unfortunately, he did ask questions, but not for me to answer out loud to him.
"Why did I choose you? Let's look at it. I needed someone young. I needed someone with potential. As for bonuses, you had many of them. Smart, already physically fit, personality, and by personality, I mean you already had a semblance similar to my own. You caught my eye when you weren't even trying to, unlike so many others. Who do you think I'd choose? A person that failed when they were trying or someone that succeeded when they weren't? The second one, am I right? Guess who you were," He paused every time he started a new sentence.
"The second," I felt my stomach do a back flip.
"Exactly. There's your answer," The lecture ended.
Someone could avoid every single mess that they could possibly initiate, but still end up in one. My current circumstances were proof of that. I hated myself at that moment. No, I didn't hate myself. I just disgusted myself.
"It's late. Take a shower and go to bed," That was all he said.
I started down the corridor when I realized I didn't know where the showers were or the bathrooms even. I was about to go back when the older man came up behind me, nudging me to keep going the way I had been. I did, all the while wondering what Slade was doing. We went back down to the monitor or 'main room' as Slade called it, up the steps and down the hall that had led to where I had woken up. Only this time, we went past the room.
The man opened up the room and stepped inside. I followed. The tiles were a wood-colored marble with hints of a pearly white. There was a small shower stall, a towel rack, a small sink with a mirror, nothing out of the ordinary. 'Yeah, except that it's in a villain's hideout or lair or whatever he calls it. Haunt, that's what it is.' The man was taking out two fluffy white towels with small 'S's emblazed on the left corners and hanging them on the racks. He looked at me, nodded, and left. The door shut behind him.
I sighed. I took off the uniform and found myself seemingly becoming free again. I was able to move my arms, shoulders, legs, everything without the restraining armor that had been meant to protect me. As I turned on the shower, steam and mist began to fill the room. It was soothing. After stepping inside the stall, I washed my hair with a bit of shampoo and conditioner and scrubbed myself clean. It was...nice. Apparently showers are one thing where Slade won't bother me, thank goodness.
Soon, I turned for the lever and pushed it off. I grabbed a towel off the rack, wrapped it around my waist and stepped out of the stall. I wiped the steam off of the mirror and looked at myself. I don't know what I was looking for, maybe some evidence that I was still the same Robin from Titans Tower? Looking at the mask I had kept on, it was hard not to see the spikes on the ends.
The door snapped open. The old man stepped inside again. I was beginning to get an eerie feel from this man. He was like a hologram. One minute there, another minute gone. And he never spoke a word or at least not to or in front of me he had.
He walked straight up to me and grabbed my right wrist, "Hey, what are you...?"
I stopped. He wasn't pulling me anywhere, which was good because I only had a towel on. But it seemed like he was just staring at my hand. He was. He took out something from his pocket and I felt him rubbing something against the ends of my fingernails. He was filing them.
"What are you doing?" I asked him.
I didn't expect to get an answer, but did, "You have to have short nails while fighting. Otherwise your palms might get hurt by them. Slade wished me to make sure that you did."
"But, I'll be wearing gloves," I responded.
He smiled slightly, as thought amused, "Not all the time."
I tensed, but let him finish his job. Once he was done with my right, he went on to my left. He was really quiet and there was an awkward sort of silence between us. Although, I had to admit that it was better then being around Slade. Once he was done, he let go of my hand and stood up straight again. He was only a little taller then me.
"Slade wants you to go to bed now that you've finished your shower," He said.
I looked up confused, "How long was I out for?"
"About nine hours. As of now, it's about 7:45 PM," he answered.
I looked away. Somehow, it just hurt that I had been out that long. I went to the rack and grabbed the other towel off of it. The steam was gone and there was a slight chill coming from the doorway. I shivered. As I did, I heard the man walk to the doorway. So I followed. We reached the room that I had woken up in and he opened the door. Inside a small candle lit up the dark walls.
"In your room there is some nightwear for you. Tomorrow, I'll bring in your clothes," he told me.
A thought occurred to me, "Sir, what's your...?"
I didn't have time to finish. As soon as I was inside, I heard the door close with a snap. I turned around and banged on the door. It wouldn't budge. I looked down at where the door handle would be, but found none. 'So that's why I couldn't find one earlier.' I shook my head. I only wanted to ask his name, so I could call him something other then 'Sir'. Lady Luck was against me then. No, she was against me the entire time.
I looked around the room. I got a much better look now that there was a light. There wasn't much of anything, but there was a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser with a short mirror. The tiles on the walls had an orange-gold tree-sap color. There were no posters or pictures.
The bed had orange and black sheets. The pillow had a black cover with silver stripes on the side. The cover also had an orange 'S'. I was starting to see that 'S' everywhere, on my clothes, on the sides of the towels, on the pillow I was to sleep on…The candle stood atop the nightstand and the wick burned quietly. It would go out soon due to the wax that was quickly being burned away. A small vent, too small for me to get through, allowed the bits of smoke the candle did make flow out. It also allowed for cool air to seep into the room.
I pulled the towel on my shoulders around me closer. On the dresser was a pair of long black shorts and a slightly oversized black shirt, both with silver strips on the sides and orange seams. I looked back at the door and found that it was hard to see. No, I couldn't see it. It was a blending door.
Infuriated, I leaned against the side of the wall and let out a low growl. 'This is my room? Ha! It is anything but my room. My room has newspaper clippings on the walls, a desk filled with files, a book shelf with my favorite books, a dresser with pictures of Cy and BB and Rae and...Star.'
I hunched over. I felt alone, on my own, trying to fend off a monster. This place was already like a labyrinth. It didn't help that this monster could find me because it probably could see me at all times. Then of course this place would cause me to become mute and unable to ask for help. I couldn't help but miss them and feel guilty that I was in this mess with their lives on the line.
When I could got out of this, Slade would pay. I don't care how, but he would. He crossed the line on this one. I paused. He hadn't crossed the line. He was trying to get me to. A moment of doubt filled my mind. I couldn't make it leave. What if I was doomed to end up permanently crossing the line of good and evil? It was...always possible or a possibility. If there had been a multiple choice question for outcomes, by all means I would pray that the results weren't in that choice's favor.
I was trapped in a room and I knew that I was being watched by a vulture.
A/N: HA! Done! Done, done, done with chapter five! So how was it? R&R! There was a bit more stuff happening in this chapter, I know. But I think it will fit in nicely for the coming chapters that I have (roughly) planned. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Chapter Six will be up sometime within a week. Thanks again for all of the reviews! I'm still writing!
Rena