Author's Note: Thanks for all the beautiful reviews and support! ^^ Sorry for the cliffhanger! Luckily, I update often, hm? XD

Ya'll should know I love to foreshadow stuff. Who knows what I've foreshadowed. Some stuff is happening right now as we go; some stuff for later chapters; some for even further chapters. Anything could be a foreshadowed moment. ^_^ Makes you wonder what I've foreshadowed in the earlier chapters… Hehehe…

To every reader, thanks for reading! I appreciate all the reviews from everyone. Always brings a bright smile to my face. Makes my favorite days of the week Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. ^.^

Anyways…

On with the story!

Chapter Thirteen

Richard "Dick" Grayson

September 25th, 2008. Thursday, 9:00 pm.

No…

No, no…

No!

"Obey me now. Take off your mask," repeated Slade in his soft, yet dark whisper. Robin's eyes widened beneath the safety of his mask. He squeezed them shut, praying beyond all hope that this was just a terrible dream – a horrific nightmare.

Then, perhaps he could wake up and forget this whole thing had ever happened. All the studying, all the training, all the punches, all the kicks, all the slaps, and now the mask – that's what this had to be; just some sick, horrible, terrible nightmare.

Oh, but it wasn't.

No, no, no, no, no! This isn't happening. This can't be happening. This isn't happening! Maybe if I ignore him—

"Now, Robin. Remove your mask," commanded Slade. "Do it now or I'll have to remove it myself. And you don't want me to remove it – I can guarantee you that."

Robin took a small, gasping breath as his chest heaved in terrible, overwhelming hopelessness. His heart palpitated at the mere thought of unveiling his eyes before his enemy. He had to stay Robin – he just had to. If he didn't, he wasn't sure if he'd have the strength to continue to resist the man. Dick wouldn't have the strength to fight against him. Dick would be crushed – utterly and totally crushed under Slade's cruelty.

"Please…" whispered Robin; his voice filled with a plea that was uncharacteristic to his persona. "Please don't make me take it off. I'll do better. I'll—"

"It's too late for that, Robin," said Slade, swiftly overriding him. "You had your chance – two weeks is quite a long time for leniency, you know. But I'm at the end of my patience. Take it off, now. You said you'd accept any punishment I deemed necessary. Well, this is what I deem necessary. Obey me now."

Robin's lips trembled in fear. He bowed his head for a moment, his breathing becoming erratic. This wasn't supposed to happen. This couldn't be happening. Anything but this – he'd do anything to change this.

"Please, Slade. I'll do anything. But please don't—"

"I thought I gave you an order, Robin," whispered Slade, his eye glinting dangerously through the opening in his mask; his tone ever so ominous. "Orders are meant to be obeyed, without question. This isn't up for debate. You had your chance – you lost it. Now, remove it!"

Robin closed his eyes, the burning within them overpowering. However, no tears slipped through. No tears eased through the crevice of his eyelids to slip into the material of his mask. They wouldn't come yet.

There's no hope. I can't fight this man. I'm completely and utterly weak against him. He holds all power and all control over me. There's no hope. I should've let him break my arm…

There was no hope.

There was no escape.

The man was all powerful; all knowing. He could do anything to Robin – it just all depended on whether or not Robin would submit to him. Just how far would Robin bend to avoid the pain? Would he snap under the pressure? Once the mask came off, would Dick have the strength to fight?

But even Robin didn't have the strength to fight against this man anymore.

Slowly, Robin lifted his hand to his face and began to peel away the mask. It stretched his skin as if ripping off a band-aid; his skin stinging slightly. Finally, the last bit of mask disconnected from his skin and he dropped his arm to hang limply at his side, the mask clutched in his hand.

Robin was now unmasked.

He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the horrible man that had been making his life a complete misery for the past two weeks. He did not want Slade to see Dick's eyes. But he knew… Oh, he knew he'd be forced to open them at any moment – view his whole situation through unfiltered, unmasked eyes.

Through Dick's eyes.

"Open your eyes," whispered Slade, sounding ever so soft. "And look at me."

There was no disobeying this man.

The command was slowly obeyed. Dick's eyes lifted open to stare into the chest of the man. His eyes lifted upward to look into the visible eye of the masked demon. A flicker of an unknown emotion passed through Slade's eye before it disappeared as quickly as it came. Slade's chest heaved once in a deep breath before speaking.

"Like gemstones," murmured Slade in an undertone, as if to himself. There was another long breath before he continued softly, "I know all about you. Don't think your identity has been a secret all this time – I've known for years who you are. I've just let you continue with the charade."

Dick's eyes widened in horror, his breath catching in his throat.

He knew…? All along?

"Yes, Richard or as you normally go by: Dick," said Slade silkily, his eye showing that his face was filled with a smirk. "I know all about you. I even know who you were before you were taken in by Batman or better known as Bruce Wayne."

Dick's eyes began burn, yet the tears would still not come. His burning eyes were unprotected from the cool air. He was completely unprotected, unarmed in every aspect before his enemy. Slade knew Batman's identity. He knew – the evil, evil demonic man knew it all. There were no more secrets – Dick was stripped bare before his enemy and with no hope of escaping him; no hope in overpowering him.

Completely, totally, utterly, absolutely powerless.

"I know how your parents died as well," said Slade so softly that his voice was barely above a whisper. "Tragic, too; how they fell to their deaths."

Oh my gosh, stop… Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop, oh, please stop!

"Murdered," continued Slade slowly, each word said with soft precision, "by a mafia man that had been trying to extort protection money from – what was his name? Oh, yes – Mr. Haley, who was the owner of the circus your parents worked at. Sabotaged trapeze wires, isn't that right? Terrible tragedy, really."

Somehow, Dick didn't think that Slade had forgotten Mr. Haley's name. If Dick hadn't been in so much turmoil, he might've noticed the reverent way Slade spoke over the deaths of his parents. But he didn't notice – his mind was screaming in total despair.

"Stop…" whispered Dick, his voice hoarse. "Please… Stop…"

"No. I'm not going to stop, Dick."

"Please! Stop!" screamed Dick, clamping his hands over his ears; his body curling slightly as he cowered downward. "I'm begging you, please stop!"

The tears still wouldn't come. No matter how horrible he felt, he couldn't even have the cleansing moment of crying. They were still locked away, deep within his heart. There was no escaping this terrible, awful place. He was trapped with a heartless man would make his life miserable forever – Dick was thoroughly sure of that now.

Had he been an awful person to deserve such a lot in life? Did he deserve to face this? Had he offended some higher power that he needed to be punished and tortured like this?

A hand touched Dick's chin, gently lifting his head to look upward. Dick was forced to look into that unbending steel grey blue eye. Would this have been any easier if Slade had taken off his own mask? Did the inhuman mask make it all the worse?

"Uncover your ears, Dick. You will hear what I have to say," said Slade. Dick's lips trembled as his hands fell to his sides slowly. He pursed his lips together, trying to stop the uncontrollable trembling.

"Good boy," said Slade. Then he continued dryly, voice rising slightly in volume, "And then enter Batman; the Dark Knight of Gotham City who took in poor little orphaned Richard. You were his little tag along birdie for five years, weren't you, Dick?"

Dick closed his eyes, nodding slowly. The burning in his eyes was intensifying, yet his eyes were still completely dry. Would they ever cleanse themselves? He didn't care if it was in front of his enemy. He needed them to purge the terrible pain in his heart and chest.

Dick's eyes slipped open once Slade continued.

"But… what could have made the little bird leave his safe nest, hm?" questioned Slade. Dick's eyes began to widen, his heart beginning to quicken in fear.

Oh, gosh, no. No, no, no, please tell me the man doesn't know about that. Oh, please. I can't handle that. Anything but that. Please, no!

"What could've happened, hm? Want to fill me on that information? I'm afraid I'm a bit at a loss with this."

Dick rapidly shook his head. He could never tell anyone. He couldn't speak of it. He couldn't handle that on top of everything else. Was Slade really determined to break him completely? Shatter his fragile being completely to piece him together into the apprentice that Slade so wanted?

If the man wasn't careful, that was exactly what was going to happen.

"Tell me, Dick. Tell me what happened."

Dick shook his head again, more vigorously this time.

"This isn't an option, Dick," said Slade; his eye flashing dangerously. "You keep conveniently forgetting that. What, did you and dear Brucey get into a little fight?"

Memories flashed unbidden in Dick's mind. He snapped his eyes shut, trying to block out the terrible images that were mocking him. Red. Far too much red – staining his suit. Pain. Far too much pain – agony beyond anything. Dick began to shake his head, swaying to rid himself of the dark memories. He didn't want to remember that. He didn't need to remember that. It was over and done with – it wasn't going to happen again. Dick was far more careful now.

"Answer me, Dick. What happened?" demanded Slade.

The terrible sound from the memory shot through his mind again and then that laughter – that awful, terrible laughter. Then, he was lost. Dick clamped his hands over his ears and screamed. It tore through his throat. Dick dropped into a crouch; curling up into a ball with his hands still over his ears as he was buried deep into past memories.

Slade's eye widened in surprise. He knelt down in front of Dick and placed a hand onto his shoulder.

"Dick, calm down," said Slade. Dick only swayed back and forth, long flowing murmurs of 'no, no, no' spilling from his lips. His eyes were wide and glazed; disconnected from reality. Slade placed his other hand onto Dick's shoulder, firmly clasping him and squeezing his flesh once.

"Dick, that's enough. Calm yourself down."

But Dick still couldn't hear him.

"Dick!" shouted Slade, shaking him once. "Dick, come out of there. You're safe. Come back now, Dick. You're safe!"

Dick's eyes blinked once. There was another light shake, followed by more blinks. Hands slipped down away from Dick's ears to rest on his knees, one of his hands still clutching tightly onto his mask. His head lifted to look at Slade. For a long moment, contrasting shades of blue eyes stared into one another.

Then, with strong arms, Slade forced Dick to stand back up; pulling him to his feet carefully and with power. His hands dropped to his sides as he observed Dick with a perplexed eye.

Dick was frozen to the spot. He had lost control. It had been a long time since that had happened. No one knew. No one knew this would happen if he talked about the events that occurred before his fight with Bruce that ultimately forced him to leave Gotham City.

No one knew.

Because Dick hadn't told anyone – not even the Teen Titans.

It had been too traumatizing. If Bruce knew, he'd have locked Dick up in Wayne Manor and never let him out ever again. But Dick had been doing just fine on his own. Robin was dealing with it. After all, Robin could handle anything. He was dealing with Dick's trauma just fine, thank you very much.

Although, deep down, Dick knew that it was just a terrible lie to hide the obvious.

He wanted no one to know his weakness. He was a leader, a fighter. No one could know. No one needed to know. He was supposed to be strong. So, no one ever could know his weakness. Slade could do whatever the heck he wanted to him and Dick would never tell him a single word.

Not a one.

Slade wouldn't be able to figure it out, either – Dick was sure of it or truly… Dick prayed that he wouldn't. But after his meltdown, he was sure that Slade would interrogate him – strip away the mystery as soon as possible; tear down his barriers of strength so that his weakness was laid open before him.

If he did, though, Dick doubted he could survive this.

But, the man didn't.

"We're going to bury Robin for a little while," said Slade, after another long moment of silence. "For now, at least."

It was then that the tears came, flowing freely deep from within Dick's heart and soul to slide easily down his cheeks; bringing him fully back to the reality that had just occurred. His mask – it had been removed. So, he had been right, finally: the tears did come once the mask came off. Dick closed his eyes, sending a fresh wave of tears down his face.

The mask slipped out of his fingers and fluttered noiselessly to the floor.

ooOOOOOoo

Next Time: Chapter Fourteen: Contacting Superior Authority – Two weeks since Robin's disappearance and the Teen Titans still don't have any leads; therefore, they contact a superior for some help…

Author's Notes: Oh, my gosh. This chapter. When I first wrote this, it was too short. Took me over four run throughs to expand the length to my pleasure. Lots of labor, pruning, cleaning, expanding. But, can't imagine it otherwise. Funny enough, I wrote this before chapter twelve. For a week, I had no idea what was going to get Robin – now Dick, to this point. All I knew is that I needed this point. Powerful stuff. How's that for angst? LOL.

Thanks for reading! Next update will be on Friday! See ya next time! Reviews = love and ideas! ^.^