One week, the two, then three weeks. With all of the training and work that Slade assigned to keep him busy, Robin hardly noticed the weeks go by. After a bumpy first few days, Slade had established a schedule for him. He woke up at eight every morning and had breakfast before retreating to the bathroom for what Red liked to teasingly call "potty time." After he was finished, Slade taught him about weapons and technology. Before and after lunch was devoted to fitness and combat training. After dinner, Robin was allowed to do as he wished, which usually meant watching television on the couch with Red. And of course, throughout the day there were several five minute breaks for Robin to change out of his wet pull-ups. Bedtime was at ten, but sometimes after an especially hard day, Robin didn't even make it to that. Several times Slade had ended up carrying the boy to bed and changing him into a night diaper before tucking him in for the night. Red helped occasionally.

Robin was finally starting to warm up to Red a little and at night when Robin was tired, Red would always do this thing that the smaller boy loved. Robin would lie on his side with his head in Red's lap and he would rest his arm straight out over his hip and leg while Red gently rubbed and ran his fingernails up and down it. It was incredibly soothing and Robin found himself asking for it more and more.

However, as Robin's lifestyle changed, so did his inner workings. Now that Slade had assigned him with a healthier diet plan and much more water than he had previously drank, Robin's bathroom problems began to arise once more. Extra water meant heavier wettings and his pull-ups were starting to leak at inconvenient times. Even worse, the new diet made his…bathroom time completely unpredictable. Sometimes it was in the morning, but sometimes it was in the middle of training and Robin would be sprinting off in the heat of a fight.

"Robin. Grab the xenothium and head towards the roof." Slade ordered.

Despite how well the treatment was in Slade's hideout, the blackmail still hung over his head like the sword of Damocles and like it or not, he had to obey the son of a bitch. Thankfully, they had granted him his mask for the mission and he appreciated that at least.

"I don't understand why Red can't get his own damn fuel." Robin muttered as he seized the rod of xenothium and set it in the case Slade had given him before heading towards the roof.

"I'm out of xenothium!" Red's voice suddenly invaded his ear. "Why else would we need it?"

"You're just being lazy." Robin huffed as he began to sprint. The alarm was being sounded and he needed to get out fast. Once he had reached the roof, he let out a sigh of relief. All he needed to do now was swing down to Slade's bike and let the auto drive take him back.

"Stop right there!"

But of course, we all know that was not going to happen so easily.

Robin tensed and turned around to face them, letting their shocked faces embed themselves into his memory.

"You better not say a word to them, Robin. Fight if you must and get out of there." Slade ordered.

Robin sighed and stepped forward, prepared to fight. That is, until he felt the unmistakable pressure in his bowels. His eyes widened behind his mask and he immediately stiffened up. On second thought, perhaps it would be better to make a run for it. The Titans didn't agree with him, for as he tried to turn and run, Raven's magic seized him and he found himself being pulled over to them.

"Robin! What are you doing?" Cyborg asked. In the darkness of the night, he was for the most part cloaked in black, but as he stepped forward, the light of the moon mixed with the lights of the city revealed his true colors.

"Slade?" Starfire frowned. "What has happened?" When Robin didn't answer, Cyborg stepped forward.

"Come on, Robin. What's Slade got over you this time? Huh? You can tell us! It's okay." The giant man insisted.

Robin, as Slade had ordered, kept his mouth shut but he was starting to squirm desperately. He couldn't do it here. He couldn't shit himself in front of his friends. He'd rather be Slade's apprentice for the rest of his life than do such a thing.

"I thought I told you to attack them, Robin." Slade's voice reminded in his ear.

Robin bit his lip and bowed his head. "I know, but I really-."

"No buts! Do it. Now." The man demanded.

Robin choked back a small whine of desperation but let out a sigh and began to charge. Having borrowed some of Red's (his) gadgets, his job was made a little easier. He'd have to take out the girls first. They were the biggest threats. With Raven's powers, he wouldn't stand a chance. He charged at them, flipping over Cyborg and tackling Raven to the ground. Taking one of Red's goo bombs, he planted it on her and leaped away at the last second, leaving her plastered to the ground. With that done, he approached Starfire next. Beast Boy quickly hurried over to back her up. Robin hesitated. He really didn't want to hurt Starfire.

"Please, Robin. Just tell us what is wrong. No matter what is happening, I am sure that we can help." The alien insisted pleadingly.

Robin frowned sadly and got out of his fighting stance, sighing in defeat. "I'm afraid that it isn't the case this time." A piercing, painful noise stabbed at his ear and Slade's angry voice roared through.

"Robin! What did I say! Follow my orders now!" He snarled. "My finger is on the send button for those pictures."

Robin gasped. "I'm sorry! Don't do it, please!"

"Then do as I say." Slade commanded harshly.

Robin nodded, but before he could move, he was being slammed into the wall of the building. He gasped as a horrid wave of desperation passed through him and he slumped down into a crouching position, pressing his heel into his bottom in a frantic attempt to stop the inevitable. As the feeling drifted away once more, he stood. He knew he had only two or three minutes before the next wave struck and he needed to get out of there. His pull-up was completely soaked and with the physical exertion he was doing, he wouldn't be surprised if it was already leaking into the thankfully dark Kevlar. At this point, he didn't even want to think of what might happen if he couldn't hold it.

His attempt to spring up failed when Cyborg pinned him to the wall and held him there, his feet tangling and kicking. He writhed and struggled in a futile attempt to get free and did his best to avoid looking at his large friend in the eye.

"Come on, Robin. Just tell us what's going on. We deserve the truth." Cyborg urged.

Another, much more intense wave washed through his abdomen and Robin made a bit of a keening noise. He knew this was it. There was no resisting it any longer. Even if he tried, it wasn't like he had any control over the matter. Curling up, he pressed his feet against Cyborg's chest plate and forced him back. As he was dropped to the ground, his bowels lost the fight and he forced himself to run. He prepared his grabbling gun and with all the grace of an eagle, he flew right off of the roof and down, down into the shadowy darkness of the streets below.

Robin counted to eight before shooting the hook at a second building and catching a fifth story fire escape. With a bit of an awkward stumble, he hit the ground and immediately ran into the shadows to hide himself. Tears welled up in his eyes as the mess rushed out of him, pressing against his skin and forcing itself out of the drenched pull-up. He felt disgusting and filthy and he felt like vomiting as he crouched in the alley like some deranged homeless person, waiting for it to stop. His legs quivered and he bit his lip to muffle any sobs that might have felt like escaping. Once he was finished, he slowly stood up and walked/waddled to his bike. He delicately got on, trying to avoid sitting on the mess at all costs, but he knew he had to. There was no other way to ride the bike. Cringing, he lowered himself, letting out a disgusted sob as the mess squished against him and pushed into every nook and cranny. It was everywhere.

He hooked the stupid case to the bike and took off into the night hoping that the ride back wouldn't be too bumpy.