A/N I know its been a weird couple of chapters, but if you could all keep reviewing that'd be great! Don't give up on me just yet. *sighs* And it would be awesome if I could avoid being bitten. Please? Ha! New tactic, take that!
Chapter Six: Burn It Down
Not even the ex-hero could argue against the fact that stealing was pretty much the best adrenaline rush ever. Killing...killing was pretty intense, as he had found out, but stealing was fun. Which was exactly why the teen opted for breaking into a fancy furniture store for his bed-covers and some small items rather than Wall-Mart or something cheap like that. No, if Race was going to take the time to disable the security systems, sneak around, and load up his stolen pick-up truck, he was going to get something out of it.
With a somewhat evil grin, the teen backed up slightly and took in the view of his new home. He had found an abandoned warehouse that wasn't already infested with the homeless, on account on how it was still monitored with security measures, and had taken over. It was no trouble for him to get past the cameras and infra-red beams, and it kept others out. Now Race had a pretty sweet set up. The warehouse had an insulated top floor where the black-haired boy had set up his bedroom, his work room, his workout room, and his kitchen of sorts. There was also a small bathroom upstairs that even contained a crude shower. It was all paradise compared to what Race had expected.
The teen laid down on his bed, content. It wasn't a really spectacular thing, just a simple frame with a light mattress considering he had to carry it, but the bright red with gold details on the comforter and sheets made up for it. He had also stolen a matching rug, just for fun. On the wall next to the bed was a light weight red-wood desk with a high-tech laptop and an untraceable phone. That last item had taken some serious skill to steal, he had to break into a government place and their security was always fairly challenging. Nothing that the ex-titan couldn't handle, obviously. There was a couple feet of open space where he would train, and then came the workout room. It was minor, just some weights and a fold up treadmill. Across from the workout "room" was the "kitchen," which consisted of a mini-fridge, a camping stove, a small table and chair, and a counter-like surface where the teen could cook. Everything was done in a red and gold theme and looked of high quality. Just because Race couldn't have his first choice didn't mean he was powerless in the situation.
A yawn broke through the teen's lips and he glance over at the clock, not really caring what it said. It wasn't like he had to wake up before he wanted to to answer an alarm. The bright red numbers read 4:42 am. Race felt his eyes droop, he was exhausted. After all he had spent the whole night running around, furnishing his home. The black-haired boy checked the security one last time before crawling into bed. He had left all of the cameras on, only he pointed them away from his stuff. Then he had hacked into the system so he saw what was going on throughout the whole building on his laptop. All in all it was the perfect set up, and Race drifted into an easy sleep
Race sighed. He really missed his punching bags. It just wasn't the same, practicing his moves in the open air with nothing to hit. He had been up since 9 and had decided to keep in shape. Sure, he wasn't going to be saving anybody, but being fit would come in handy. In fact, it already had. Without his years of training and fighting, the teen would not have been able to make off with all that furniture last night. Still, the blue-eyed boy needed work for things like groceries. Stealing too often or too much would just call unwanted attention to himself, and Batman might even get involved. Race shuddered. Batman was the last person he wanted around. Right next to Slade. His movements stilled as the teen sighed again. He couldn't shake this horrible feeling whenever his ex-enemies name came to mind. He knew that the man was probably furious with him, but Race simply couldn't to anything about it. He had killed a man, and now he had gone AWOL.
The black-haired boy suddenly groaned and sank to his knees. He had killed a man! He was a murderer! Try as he might, he couldn't get rid of the gut-wrenching guilt that would sneak up on him out of no where. Deep down Robin and his hero idealism were trying to break free and rise back up, but Race held them down. With a determined face, the teen stood back up shakily. My name was Robin, I was the leader of the Teen Titans, then I killed a man. Now my name is Race Gray. He chanted in his head a couple of times before regaining control of his emotions. "My name was Robin, I was the leader of the Teen Titans, then I killed a man. Now my name is Race Gray." Just repeating it out loud helped the blue-eyed boy ground himself. After that Race returned to training like nothing had happened.
A couple of weeks went by effortlessly for the teen. He hadn't found a job, so he kept stealing small things like a diamond necklace or what not in order to pay for his food and other necessities. Though word on the street was that Batman was becoming concerned, and it was time for Race to lay low for a while. He had found out about Batman through a few contacts he had recently made. To the black-haired boy's surprise not all criminals were heartless, some of them had simply grown up that way. And who was he to argue with one's upbringing? Over all these unfortunate turn of events had changed him, but probably not for the best. He used to be a hero, he used to help people, he used to try and make the world a better place. But now, now he stole and committed crimes. But technically that was Race, for Robin would never do such a thing.
"I definitely have multiple personality disorder." Race commented dryly to himself while pulling out a water bottle from the mini-fridge. He had just been musing about how he doubted he would even turn to the name Robin now, falling head-first into his Race character. The same thing had happened when he was Red X, but now he didn't have a team to pull him back.
"I was about to say the same thing." A gruff voice said from behind him, and Race stilled. He didn't turn around though, he just sighed and set down his water bottle.
"How did you get in here?"
The man just snorted and the ex-hero turned around, greeted by the all-too familiar sight of Slade in his armor and black/orange mask. "Do I have to answer that?"
"Leave, Slade." Race wasn't sure where his nerve came from, but he was pleasantly surprised when his voice stayed cold and unfeeling.
"Race, is it? Well, Race, I'm afraid I can't do that." The assassin crossed his arms behind his back and tilted his head to the side. The teen felt a flash of anger in him and it startled him. Recently he had been feeling empty; as the pain and guilt began to fade it left a gaping hole.
"I don't need you. In case you haven't heard, I killed Plasmus. I broke my one rule and the dark fog hasn't been back." Race leaned against a nearby wall and fixed Slade with his bright blue eyes.
Slade found himself getting lost in those eyes, but quickly got it together. "I wouldn't be so sure." He purred, getting a slight reaction from the teen, before lifting his hand and taking off his mask. Race's sky blue eyes widened and he gasped lightly. The man was full of surprises, and a funny sensation filled the teen's body as he gazed into Slade's face. The man had the most masculine face possible, with a strong jaw, angled cheek bones and a sharp nose. Bright white hair, as pure as freshly fallen snow, was ruffled and framed his face, complimented by a neat, white goatee. A single, gray-blue eye peered at him, the color of steel in blue light. The other eye, or where it should have been, was covered with a black eye-patch.
"It's back." He gasped as the man drew closer, unable to stop tracing the newly revealed features. The teen fought to control his breathing as his mind clouded up again. But it was different this time, his head felt light instead of heavy and there was a white mist in it, not a black fog. "But it's not the same."
"It's called lust." Slade leered at this new person. He wasn't Robin anymore, and that annoyed the man. Robin had been perfect, perfectly out of control. This new teen, Race,was empty. There was no fire in him. So Slade just had to bring Robin back. The man put his hands against the wall, on either side of "Race's" head, and leaned in close.
"Did you really think you could get away, Robin?"
The teen was torn. Robin wanted to push Slade away, kick him in the gut, take him down once and for all. After all, this was the perfect opportunity. Race, on the other hand, wanted to be fucked by the man. He wanted it hard and fast and now. He didn't care if Slade was a mercenary, he himself had killed and robbed. What was sex? Just another notch in his criminal-belt.
Slade watched, slightly worried, as the two sides of the blue-eyed boy battled it out. He wanted Robin to win, and then he wanted to fuck him. He had been so close a couple weeks ago, and then the teen had screwed it all up by killing Plasmus. Years of pining after that lithe body, and he had almost had it. But that didn't matter now, because now he had caught back up with his little bird and he was going to get what he wanted from who he wanted it from. The man's hope grew as he saw a little bit of determination light up in those blue eyes. Robin so far was coming out on top.
Suddenly there was a bang and a bunch of voices shouting. Both bodies stilled and then Race cursed silently, back in charge. "Who's that." Slade growled out, once again infuriated. The little interruption had caused Race to come back and now the man had to start all over again.
"Probably the people who own this warehouse." Race ducked under the assassin's massive arms and made his way over to the laptop. On the screen he could see a whole lot of thugs pouring in from the streets. The alarms hadn't gone off so obviously their leader was here too. Then he caught a glimpse of an entourage heading up the stairs, a very important mob-boss in the middle of the burly body guards. "Get ready." Race hissed at Slade. "We have company."
A/N So I'm getting farther into the Robin-Race thing then I thought I would, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel! Even if you, my lovely readers, can't. Ah, the perks of being the author. But hey, guess what? If I get a lot of reviews it tells me I'm doing something right and it makes me want to continue! What does that mean for you? It means that if you hit that little review button and simply tell me your opinion, I'll update faster! A fair-trade, I'd say!