Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Robin let out a heavy sigh as his bedroom door slid shut behind him, the noise of the Titans finally gone. His back leaned onto the cold surface of the shut door, as if foolishly expecting the coolness to calm the raging fire in his chest.

The fire that couldn’t be extinguished no matter how hard he tried. The flames that actively licked his wounds raw, while giving his brain a sense of adrenaline and excitement that he couldn’t stop chasing.

It was horrible.

Robin had spent the past hour eating pizza, discussing Brother Blood, and proposing new theories until he was finally able to excuse himself from the room without suspicion. The teenager had to psych himself up into doing the action, feeling as if he had crossed yet another line.

Oh well, what’s one more line added to the tangled heap that was already buried in him anyway?

The teen walked over to his bed, sitting down and inhaling deep, steady breaths. The mattress dipped under his weight as his hands gripped the bedsheets in ugly coils—the patterns resembling the discomfort in his mind.

He had felt the buzz of his communicator go off a while ago, the device promptly placed in his pocket. He had restrained a jolt of reaction at the time, trying to act normal since the Titans were all looking at him.

Being normal was something he found himself hastily correcting now, as they treated Robin differently ever since the apprenticeship. Ever since the hallucinations. Ever since the time where Robin had reacted badly to a gun post-apprenticeship.

And it was a justified action, Robin had to admit, as Slade had somehow eased into his mind again stupid stupid stupid—

He closed his eyes as he breathed once again, his chest rising.

Everything is okay. It wasn’t like before when he had to report back to Slade as fast as possible. Robin had a choice. Robin had autonomy. He could do as he liked with no button hidden in the dark to incentivize his actions. He could keep Slade waiting for as long as he wanted, and nothing would happen. Absolutely nothing.

Although, it would probably be better if he checked the message, logically speaking.

Robin had an underlying feeling about who else was behind all of this—serum included. It was something fuzzy and familiar, but he couldn’t be too sure. He needed another perspective. He needed more information. He needed it fast.

And Slade had it.

Taking another deep breath, he fiddled around his pockets before finally raising his spare Titan communicator into the air.

Slade had been insistent on contacting him through this instead of the gauntlet he now wore since the serum incident. Why? Robin didn’t know for sure. Maybe because the JL origin of it was too risky to send a message through. Maybe because he didn’t know Robin was now using it. Maybe because Slade wanted to perform some sort of manipulation tactic, forcing the teen to recognize that he was using his team’s device to talk to the mercenary.

Whatever it was, the reason didn’t matter. The outcome would stay the same.

Robin pressed one of the side buttons, watching as the device powered on. He had received a message from an unknown number—one that couldn't be traced back to someone obvious.

Robin quickly changed the contact name to something plain, “S (JCPD)”, in hopes that if the Titans ever saw it, they would assume nothing. He had a lot of contacts from the police department, so this wasn’t too far-fetched. He also knew that a recent officer had just been hired, his last name beginning with an S. It was a solid-enough alibi.

Robin, too, made sure that any text messages sent and received through this contact would be deleted after fifteen minutes, unable to be traced or brought up again.

(He was lucky the truth serum didn’t dictate his actions.)

After ensuring he had covered all bases on his end, the teenager then clicked upon the message, his heart rate spiking as his eyes beneath the domino mask traced every word. He hesitated as he read, before typing a quick response back. He couldn’t overthink things

Robin blinked at the reply from Slade. His thumb ran along the side of the circular, yellow device as he reread the words over and over again.

He shouldn’t be surprised. This was in fact true, as the two of them had worked together for several weeks.

Weeks of reports. Weeks of missions. Weeks of getting beaten bloody and being taught exactly how to stand back up again and win.

Slade had always given him criticism and advice, taking Robin’s strengths and weaknesses into account every time. They were always accurate. Robin knew they were. He knew the man could train him and gauge his skills properly enough to improve. The mercenary had been good at it.

Still was.

The man had typed another message before Robin could respond.

Robin dryly swallowed as he read the message, his eyes narrowing as he registered the words “old place” into his mind.

The cogs that continuously turned. The monitors that had displayed his friends’ bloodstreams, and the throne that had sat before it. He remembered the basic cot Robin had slept in, and the way there had been no windows and clocks. He had lived by Slade’s schedule, training in bare rooms and eating whatever the man had set up for him. Even after he had escaped, Robin’s circadian rhythm had already conformed to whatever Slade had expected of him. Even back on his spacious bed underneath bright, blue blankets, Robin still expected a fist to knock incessantly on his door alerting him to get up and hit the mats.

There had been a good amount of times where after completely Slade’s missions at night, Robin would return to that haunt, his eyes weak and tired as he saw the Titan Tower standing defiantly in the distance.

The teen remembered lingering outside for a while, finding any excuse to spend as long as he could outside, before eventually flying away from what was supposed to be his home. His hope. His friends.

It was ironic that Robin was now leaving that tower—a place he had missed so dearly—for a base that had haunted him for many nights.

But he had to do it.

If the group behind this wasn’t just Brother Blood—if it was genuinely something more sinister—

Placing the communicator aside, Robin subconsciously reached for his neck, his fingers tracing his skin.

After a quiet moment, Robin tore off his gloves, the clothing falling onto the floor. He fiercely dug his bare fingers into his neck, searching and searching until—

He felt that familiar prick mark.

Even though the mark was almost fully sealed, his skin healing itself, Robin still felt the way it stung. The way it was a reminder that Robin, although capable, was lacking.

Robin needed answers. He needed them as fast as he could. He needed as much help as he could get.

And somehow, the roads always led back to Slade.

Robin was lucky that the morning mission had been at 6am, as it had prompted his team to sleep in rather early than usual.

It was nearing 11pm now, meaning that it was time to make a move.

The boy prepared his utility belt, dutifully checking each and every compartment, before attaching it around his waist. He made sure to restock everything from his birdarangs to his smoke bombs, and ensured his grappling hook was in good shape. He carried extra masks, more communicators, and had his gauntlet/wrist computer attached to his suit. Its color and placement were well hidden, but he knew Slade would sense it instantly.

Good for him, he bitterly thought, as for once Slade wasn’t his enemy.

He checked Slade’s now-deleted message one more time before pocketing the device. Robin knew where to go, and he shouldn’t be dilly-dallying for any longer. Slade probably had a mission for him, as the man always prepared in advance. He always knew how to lure Robin in: hook, line, and sinker.

Exhaling quietly, the teen slid open his door, slipping into the dark crevices of the tower. It was the first thing he had mastered back in Gotham, and he had used it to scare and impress the JLA countless times. Slade had never mentioned it either, implying that the mercenary had nothing left to teach him in that department.

Robin quickly slipped past the elevator, making sure to erase and loop camera footage (as he did this morning) every time he could have possibly left a blind spot. He took the emergency stairwell, not wanting the systems to alert the others that someone used the elevator.

After leaving the exit, the teen stared longingly at the tower for a quick pause, before making his way to a man who was awaiting him with heavy steps.

Unbeknownst to him though, someone was watching him as he left, the shadow of a raven not quite deep enough to block him out.

The city blurred beneath him.

Robin moved without thinking—grappling line, swing, land, repeat. His body followed a path it already knew, muscle memory guiding him through rooftops and alleyways without hesitation. He didn’t need directions. He never had.

The closer he got, the quieter everything became. No traffic, no late-night chatter, and no hum of the city. Just the wind that accompanied him as he flew from building to building. It used to be nice, his favorite feeling in the world, but he couldn’t find himself relaxing. Not tonight.

Robin landed on a familiar ledge. For a moment, he didn’t move. He could only think, his mind reluctantly remembering things.

Below him, hidden behind rusted metal and abandoned infrastructure, sat the entrance of Slade’s base. Gritty and abandoned, as if it had lost its true vitality after Robin escaped. He thought there would never be a reason to return ever again.

He had been misled.

His mind went against his will, conjuring an image of the Titans, the team sleeping soundly under the night sky. They would most likely be disappointed with him if they found out who he had teamed up with. But what else could he do? With the Titans, he was stuck to off-field duty or heavily restricted on-field duty. He had seen the way they looked at him, their eyes full of pity as he mentioned Slade had come to the Tower.

Their eyes sad as if Robin was not truly capable to stand up against Slade on his own anymore.

It hurt.

It felt as if he was visibly past return. The team viewed him differently now, and being injected with truth serum must have made it even worse.

However, Slade was different. He didn’t genuinely like Robin, but he worked with him. He didn’t hover and protect Robin, but he pushed for him to work diligently and use his potential. He praised Robin whenever he did good, instead of being silent. Slade expected Robin to succeed. The Titans expected Robin to recover.

He believed that Robin could do things by himself, and despite every sour memory, Slade was loyal to this. That not being an apprentice or a superhero would be a waste to his talents.

He was a bad man, yes. But the mercenary had what Robin needed to get his own objectives done.

Robin exhaled slowly, forcing himself to steadiness.

“Just like before,” he heard his voice mutter.

The words tasted wrong, but he pushed forward anyway.

The second his boots touched the ground, the hidden door of the haunt slid open. Robin simply stared at it, his feet still fixed to the ground while his senses were at an all-time high. It had been expecting him, just like how it had all those nights ago…

Robin had to hold down a shudder as he approached the entrance, the blades of grass shifting and swaying to his footsteps. Noticing the area still adequately lit by the nearby city, the teen covered his eyes for a moment, adjusting his vision to the darkness that thrived in Slade’s old haunt so it wouldn’t overwhelm him all at once.

Robin knew what he was getting into. He knew the risks, and he knew how to prepare for them.

That’s what made all the difference this time.

When Robin finally stepped inside, the door behind him sealed with a low click. Darkness proceeded to swallow him whole. After a few seconds, a small dim light turned on from a distance. The light source revealed a long corridor, which Robin begrudgingly made his way down.

The last time he had been in these dark halls, the lack of lights had left him at the mercy of his own thoughts.

Thoughts of hiding whatever he had stolen. Thoughts of turning back around and running. Thoughts of finally getting his hand on that button.

Thoughts of the Titans looking at him on the battlefield, betrayed, confused, and hurt.

He shook his head slightly, trying to make the old feelings go away. Things are different now. The circumstances are different. They just are.

Trying to put himself at ease, he started to analyze his surroundings. The air felt different here, stale and metallic as it carried the faint echo of his movements. He could make out the low hum of machinery in the floor beneath his boots as he walked down further.

It was exactly how he remembered it. Every detail and every inch was as accurate as his memories could get. The more he observed, the more anxious he got—a kaleidoscope forming in his stomach.

He kept going.

The corridor opened into the main chamber. Spinning cogs moved at their endless pace, some fallen sideways and laid still after being rendered useless. Monitors glowed faintly along the walls, appearing to show nothing more but mere camera footage to the entrance of the haunt.

And lastly, at the far end of the main room, was the throne.

Empty.

Robin stopped a few feet in, eyes scanning automatically. He couldn’t allow his breath to hitch. He needed to stay on guard. He was normal now. He knew all of this now. The mind games. The tests. Everything there was about Slade Wilson.

But as he tried to find Slade with his senses, he found nothing. Nothing until the man decided to reveal his presence himself.

Maybe he would have been better off if he stayed after all.

“You’re late, Robin.”

The eerie voice echoed from the loft above.

Robin didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. Past memories held him together in place—making what should have been a fearful experience become something familiar. Something routine.

Like the cogs that kept spinning, even after all this time.

He doesn't move. He can’t find it in himself to. He swallows, hard, but whatever is in his throat stays.
You miss Slade don’t you? You know it. You’re fucking sick, Robin. Shut up! Don't think about this now—

“I’m early,” Robin shot back, forcing confidence back into his voice as the serum burned faintly beneath his skin. He was indeed early. Only by a few minutes, but still.

A soft chuckle followed. “Yes, you always were,” Slade replied. He stepped under the dim fluorescents. His mask was still on, and his arms were folded. Waiting.

Robin looked up, their eyes meeting.

This time, there were no nefarious intentions. No screens of the Titan’s bloodstreams. No trigger waiting to be pulled. There was only simply the space between them, and a whirlwind of words left unsaid.

“You came,” Slade mused, his voice neutral.

Robin frowned in response. “You told me to.”

“And you listened,” Slade said, his singular eye peering at the teen.

Robin’s jaw tightened. “I’m here for information,” he said sharply. “Don’t read into it.”

Slade descended the loft slowly, his voice calm as he moved. “Of course. You’re always here for a reason.” He stopped in front of Robin. Close—but not too close. Robin held his ground as Slade spoke again,

“I’m looking forward to working with you again, Robin.”

Robin hated how he couldn’t detect any dishonesty in that statement.

“Just tell me what you have, Slade. We need to exchange what we both know and come up with plans fast.”

Slade chuckled, his arms deliberately placed behind his back. “At ease, we can start now. You were always the impatient type.”

Robin grumbled at that, but made no comment.

“Based on what I’ve seen,” the mercenary stated, “The people plotting against you consist of three main groups. Three main sources.”

Robin crossed his arms. “Brother Blood.”

Slade nodded once. “Indeed. A predictable conclusion, but not sufficient enough,” Slade continued. “You already know that.”

Robin hesitated for a moment, before saying what he knew Slade wanted to hear. Before playing along with him once again. “…He’s working with the H.I.V.E. Probably working on rebuilding the academy, too. But the truth serum…he’s not the one behind it. It’s someone else.”

Slade’s eye sharpened slightly, the way it always did whenever the two discussed—whenever Robin did something good and worthy of praise.

“There it is.”

Robin frowned, closing his eyes briefly.

“Don’t.”

Slade, like usual, ignored that.

“You’re seeing the edges now, exactly how I thought you would,” Slade continued. “Patterns forming where there shouldn’t be.” He stepped past Robin, gesturing toward one of the monitors. “The shared resources. The clean and layered execution.”

Robin turned, following his movements. “…The small openings. The flaws you exploited in order to reach me this morning,” the teen finished quietly.

Slade gave him a faint nod. “Good.”

Robin’s chest tightened. The familiar words, the familiar approach, the familiar setting—it was throwing him off. Making his memories and his current situation bleed together uncomfortably. He forced himself to breathe normally, his eyes meeting the gauntlet placed securely on his arm.

“You said you’d help,” Robin snapped. “So let’s just get on with this.”

Slade paused, the motion almost thoughtful. “I already am.”

“That’s not a proper answer!”

“At ease, little bird.”

Robin glared at the mercenary. That stupid nickname again. He hated it. It reminded him of old times that he would rather not think about. Robin exhaled a heavy breath.

“I’m not your apprentice, Slade.”

“I’m aware,” the man replied. “I called you here so we could work as partners. We both agreed on that. In fact,” his voice dropped. “I even have a lead to meet with tonight about that serum.”

Robin’s eyes brightened at that, his anxiousness starting to ebb away. He was about to demand for more information, when Slade interrupted him.

“However, if you want me to uphold my end of the bargain,” the mercenary continued. “You need to uphold yours.”

Robin blinked for a moment, confused. His mind then raced to that morning, replaying every memory from their deal, before ultimately scowling as the answer dawned upon him.

The three things Slade had requested.

“Right,” the boy grumbled. “One of your conditions—asking me questions where I must answer truthfully.”

Slade nodded, his singular eye gleaming in the dark room. “Since I only have one lead to take you to today, I’ll ask you only one question.”

The teen raised an eyebrow. “Only one?”

The man chuckled, his voice low. “I am fair, little bird. You know this.”

Robin frowned. He had agreed to the condition this morning, and Slade never lied. He never had a reason to.

“...Alright,” Robin answered. “Ask one and only one.”

“I know, Robin,” Slade said. “I won’t ask for too much. I respect our terms.”

The sight made Robin nervous, his heart rate spiking ever so slightly. Slade had promised his questions wouldn’t be about any other heroes. He promised it would just be about Robin. Hell, the man even knew he was Dick Grayson all the way back since his apprenticeship. What else could he possibly want?

Robin stood still for a moment, examining Slade, until the man abruptly turned his back towards the monitors and faced the teen head-on.

Slowly, the mercenary raised his fingers to his head, undoing the small clasps and latches required to take off his mask. The sounds echoed throughout the room at a painstakingly slow pace, and Robin froze as he watched the half-black, half-orange mask point downwards and fall into Slade’s hands. In its place was an eyepatch, locks of white hair, and a singular blue eye.

A blue eye that hit too close to home.

(Robin still remembered what had happened the first time he had seen it—the circumstances that had led to the mask falling. For many months, he had been hunting for that face. The secret identity of Slade: his greatest opponent. But when the moment finally came and the face had been revealed, Robin felt no joy. He couldn’t possibly feel anything. The only thing he could process were the tears running down his face and the way he couldn’t stop his gasping, erratic sobs.)

(The blood running down his throat and staining the passenger seat. Slade’s hand on his wrists. The phantom touch of a trigger being squeezed in his fingers. The disgust he felt towards himself as he crossed yet another line a hero like him should have never crossed.)

Robin inhaled sharply, shaking his head to rid himself of past memories. He was better now. Anything was.

The man stepped closer to Robin, his face indifferent. Then, Robin noticed a small shift in his eye. One that seemed to be interested—no, curious. Robin resisted the urge to shrink, forcing himself to stand upright. He had chosen to come. He knew what he was getting into.

He knew Slade as much as Slade knew him.

But even then, nothing could have prepared him for Slade’s question.

“...Did you learn anything from our time together?”

Robin blinked, opening his mouth, before immediately faltering. Did I what…? His eyes narrowed. Is Slade serious?

But as he peered into Slade’s eye, he could tell he was indeed serious. Deadly.

And the mercenary was waiting for a reply.

Robin felt the serum rising in his throat, but hastily pushed it back down. He knew the struggle was probably showing on his face, but he desperately needed clarity. He needed to know what Slade was getting at.

He opened his mouth once again. “Our time together as in…the apprenticeship?”

Slade nodded, his hands at his sides. “Correct. Did you keep anything I taught you?”

Robin felt his mouth turn dry.

“I—” He paused.

A grimace adorned Robin’s face as he realized he couldn’t say what he wanted.

Realized that as much as he wanted to deny it and say no, the word wouldn’t come out.

Dread consumed the teen as he stood, his boots glued to the floor and his fists clenched. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then, he stated the inevitable, feeling the serum work and move and thrive.

“I… did learn from you,” he admitted. “I learned how to use…certain weapons more effectively, and how you fight, but I haven’t really kept those. The only thing I really kept from the apprenticeship was—”

He opened his eyes.

“Our planning. Our report style. The way we detected patterns, and the contingency plans that came with it. The mindset you had me adopt whenever you made me work on a mock contract. The things you wanted to use in your apprentice, I ended up twisted them into something a hero could use.” Robin paused, letting out a shaky breath.

“That’s all.”

Slade looked at the teen, a neutral expression on his face, until a small, gradual smile formed. He placed the mask in his hands down on the side of the throne, his demeanor visibly calm and collected.

“That’s good to hear, Robin,” he spoke slowly, the words almost melodic. Then, he picked up a nearby remote, out of view for Robin’s sake, as a growing smirk formed in the teen’s direction.

“I’m going to need you to use those skills you learned tonight.”

His finger pressed a button, causing the screens to shift and change. Half of them morphed into a map of the outskirts of Jump City—a red dot blinking on some coordinates—while the other half showcased a profile. The profile had a picture of an adult man and brief paragraphs of significant information ranging from facts to observations.

Robin stepped forward, closing in on the screens. Jay Kirano. He examined the photo more closely. Black hair. Mid-forties. Tired eyes. Shifty posture. Surrounded by grainy surveillance stills and indistinct figures in the background.

“…Who is he?” he heard himself ask.

“A broker,” Slade answered simply. “Mid level, but moderately high position. Careful, but not careful enough. Easy for me to track.”

Robin scanned the file. “He works for the black market?”

Slade nodded, his blue eye reflecting the monitors. “He involves himself in sketchy transactions, and later sells them to the highest bidder. I’ve seen the man at auctions, and he’s no joke when it comes to his job. We’re lucky he was in Jump, as he’s usually in more prominent places with more security at his side.”

He typed on the keyboard, pushing the profile aside and focusing on the labeled red dot on the map. “I did some quick field work and figured out his group was in this area a few days ago scouting for last minute goods. I assumed they might have seen something, and they confirmed it to me.”

Robin moved his gaze from the monitor to the mercenary before him. “What did they see?”

“Someone holding the truth serum,” Slade answered. “And I’m inclined to believe it’s the same variant running in your body as we speak.” He turned his head to face Robin. “We are going to meet with them tonight. I already arranged it. Our goal is to obtain more information about the distributor and its effects."

Robin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you trust him?”

“I’m familiar with him, yes. I trust his self-interest.”

Robin crossed his arms at that. “I can’t wrap my head around a black market broker giving us that for free.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s he asking for?”

A pause settled in the air. “A favor,” Slade replied. “A small one.”

“You’re trading something.”

“Of course.”

Robin’s gaze sharpened. “What?”

Slade didn’t look at him immediately. “A security access string,” he said. “It’s temporary, and expendable.”

Robin stiffened.

Slade was giving away encrypted access codes for some information? Some information that could benefit Robin and help his team find the culprit? Robin didn’t like that. Not even a little.

“That’s not small,” Robin responded.

“It is,” Slade said calmly. “Compared to what we’re getting.” His eye flicked briefly toward Robin. “A functioning truth serum…in the hands of someone who knows how to properly use it?”

He gave a faint smile.

“That’s priceless.”

Robin said nothing, as he felt the burning sensation of said serum breathing in his veins.

Earlier, Slade had asked him one question. Appearance-wise, it was to uphold their deal—their prior engagement from hours ago. But now after hearing Slade’s real interest in the serum…

He was using me as an example. Robin realized. A way to gauge whether this truth serum was worth the risks of obtaining.

And the worst part was that the man had seemed satisfied. Satisfied with what Robin had to say—the results of his little experiment.

His chest tightened once again.

Slade, meanwhile, turned back to the display. “You’ll stay quiet unless necessary,” he continued. “Speak when prompted. But besides that, you’ll observe. You’ll let me do the talking.”

Robin bristled. “I’m not going to just stand there! It’s not—I’m not returning to how I was before!” He grit his teeth, his frustration apparent. He didn’t come all the way here just to do nothing!

Slade merely hummed.

“I figured you'd say that, which was why I prepared something for you.”

The man lifted something into the air—a small, closed vial with a red liquid. As Slade held it, the substance swirled in its container.

Robin stilled at the substance. It reminded him of what had happened months ago, when he was bruised and bloodied on the sparring mats. Slade never held back in training, and made up for it by giving him healing-induced substances. Ones with his blood in them, apparently.

But those were green. This one was red.

“What is this?” Robin asked, his words cautious.

Slade’s exposed face remained neutral as he talked.

“A substance that can stop the truth serum in your body. It’ll grant you back your autonomy.”

Robin’s eyes widened.

What?

His mind came to a sudden stop, his thoughts failing to complete and work properly.

“No way. You—you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not,” Slade answered. “However, from the tests I’ve run, it does have flaws. As much as I tried to perfect it, I couldn’t do it completely. Not without an authentic sample of the serum in my hands.”

Robin tilted his head. “...Is that why one of your conditions was getting a sample? You want to…perfect this substance?”

Slade nodded. “That is one of my reasons among many, yes.” He offered it to Robin, his arm outstretched. “It’s up to you if you want to take it.”

Robin hesitated. “As much as I’d love to…what are the drawbacks? The flaws?”

“It’s only temporary,” Slade replied. “Think of it like pausing a video. For around four hours, the serum will have no effect. You’ll be able to say whatever you like. But once those four hours are up, the video starts again.”

“So the duration never changes.” Robin finished, his eyes narrowing. “It’ll still last around at least forty-eight hours total, but it'll just delay the effects. The hours will still count later.”

“Correct.” Slade agreed. “Did Cyborg tell you the truth serum lasts forty-eight hours?”

Robin winced at the accurate assumption. “He did, but it’s just a rough estimation. It could still be faulty.”

“Hn. So are you willing to take the vial? It’s your choice.”

Robin bit his lip, pondering. He was injected with the serum at around 6pm, and it had been over a day since then. If the forty-eight hour estimation was right…

Then I only have nineteen hours left.

Was it worth it? To delay the serum by another four hours? But he was already over halfway there—and he hated being compromised. Controlled. Having the Titans bench him for it.

He swallowed nervously.

If he delayed it…would the Titans keep making him stay behind?

Would they keep…looking at him like that? When they thought Robin wasn’t paying attention?

Dick just wanted to be perceived as normal again.

“…I won’t take it,” he whispered.

Slade’s eyebrows raised curiously. “...Are you sure?”

“I—“ Robin stammered, regaining his composure. “I know it would be nice to have for tonight, but I’m almost done with the serum. I don’t want to delay it if I don’t have to.”

“And you believe you can resist the serum if needed?”

“I have been trained to do so before.”

Slade blinked, processing Robin’s words, before ultimately nodding. “Alright. I respect your decision.”

He pocketed the vial, and turned around to press a button on the keyboard. The route updated on the screen, and a red path etched itself across the map. Their path.

Then, the man stood up, picking up his mask and attaching it back on his face. As the latches aligned, Slade analyzed Robin’s appearance. His one eye traced the teen, until a disapproving look embellished what was left of his visible features.

“Before we go, your attire must be adjusted, Robin.”

Defensive, Robin’s fists clenched. “What’s wrong with it?”

Slade clicked his tongue, walking closer to the boy. “Think about it, Robin. What will the others think if they see you and I together? If the wrong people find out, our plans could be rendered useless. We need a disguise.”

“I don't want to wear the old suit. I’m not your apprentice!” The words echoed harder than Robin expected, the sounds cascading around the quiet hums of turning cogs.

Slade didn’t react. Didn’t step forward. Didn’t argue. He just watched him—calm and measured.

“Of course you aren’t, little bird.” Slade said at last. “But the world doesn’t know that, and we can use it to our advantage.” He stepped closer to Robin, their bodies a short distance apart. The teen frowned, his displeasure evident.

“They won’t see a distinction,” Slade went on, his voice even. “Not in bright lighting. Not at a distance. Not when you’re standing beside me. They’ll see it as a mercenary and his tyro working together. They’ll see what appears to be partners. Something more…credible.”

He gestured lazily toward Robin’s uniform.

“Here, they’ll see a liability. Perhaps even desperation. A hasty partnership with flaws.”

Robin’s grip tightened on his fist, the boy restraining the urge to pull out his bo staff and deal with the mercenary once and for all. “Don’t they already know that you trained me? I said it the other day, unwillingly.” The words haunted him, even now.

Slade turned, walking toward a side console. “Robin, I’m the greatest mercenary in the world. I have great influence here. Resources. Power. Money. Weapons. That statement you let slip about me?”

He chuckled, his voice grim.

“I made sure nobody else found out.”

Robin didn't know what to say to that. He could only watch, numb, as Slade continued to pace.

(He didn’t want to know how many dead bodies Slade got away with this time.)

“You know how these people operate,” he started. “Information passes quickly. Recognition faster.” He pressed a button.

A hidden panel slid open, and inside, a half dark, half light fabric shifted.

Robin’s breath caught.

The suit.

Slade still kept it after all this time.

Slade’s eyes met his, observing his reaction. Dissecting it. Observing if he had pushed too far. If Robin could fully handle what he was seeing.

The teen had wide eyes, outwardly scowling. “Are you serious?”

“Disguise,” Slade said simply, ignoring Robin’s dismay. “It means nothing more.”

Robin barked out a harsh laugh. “That’s not what it was before.”

“No,” Slade agreed again. “But tonight,” he said, glancing back at Robin. “It’s exactly what we need it to be. What the others think doesn't matter. Between us, we know that this suit is a ruse.”

Robin stared at the suit.

At the colors. At the shape.

At everything it represented to its core.

He’s right, Robin. The suit will make things easier. If it looks like I’m with Slade, less information about me trying to find the serum with Slade will be leaked. It’s better this way.

The Titans couldn’t know what he was doing. In the Robin suit, he could get recognized. If word got out that Robin was working with Slade at the dead of night and they found out…

Would he even be allowed to stay as a Titan?

You’ve worn worse, his mind whispered. You’ve done worse.

This is nothing.

His jaw clenched.

“If I do this,” Robin said slowly, “it’s for the mission.”

Slade didn’t hesitate. “Everything is.”

That answer didn’t help.

But it didn’t stop him, either.

Robin stepped forward. The fabric felt heavier than he remembered. And the insignia…Robin had to close his eyes to even get himself to move.

“I’m keeping the things in my utility belt.”

Slade nodded. “Very well. The gauntlet too?”

Robin hesitated, a bit shocked that Slade had blatantly acknowledged its existence.

The mercenary could only smirk in response. “Surpised? I’ve been in this field of work for a long time, little bird. I’d be a fool to take in an apprentice without knowing his former skills and equipment."

Feeling somewhat violated by the truth that Robin should have surmised before, the teen snatched the rest of the suit, leaving only a haunting, old gun left behind. One that still had invisible bloodstains, at least to Robin’s eyes.

He’d keep the sword he had once practiced with, but everything else would be his own Robin-themed equipment. He could never hold a gun.

Not again.

“I’ll get suited up,” Robin muttered annoyedly, unclasping his bulletproof cape.

Even though the teen couldn’t see Slade’s mouth, he knew the man was smiling. It made Robin want to scream. To fight, attack, punch, and dismantle—

But they were allies. Just for tonight. Just for a temporary period.

And Robin could suck up some unfortunate details in order to obtain a bigger, ideal picture. He had done it before, under even worse conditions. This serum was dangerous. These organizations were dangerous. If Robin could find out the routes of distribution, recognize the patterns and neutralize the threat—

It would prove this was all for something.

That Robin could still be good, even if he was compromised.

That Robin could still be a hero, even if Batman had fired and replaced him.

As he attached the last cuffs of armor, his old gauntlet fitting right in, Slade looked right at him.

Despite the mask covering the mercenary’s face, Robin could tell Slade was still smiling.

Just like how he had been during the apprenticeship all those months ago, a time where Robin, too, shared a smile as they watched a trapeze act together, music flooding his ears.

Slade patted Robin’s shoulders, the action almost proud as his hands rested on them.

“We leave now.”

And as the two left the building, their movements conforming back to an old routine, Robin found his eyes lingering on his abandoned suit and cape, hoping this would all be worth it.

It was around 11pm when a knock announced itself at Cyborg’s door, the sound loud and piercing.

Then came another.

And another.

The half-robot groaned, making his way to the door. He had been sleeping—the best way someone with his disposition could—before someone had annoyingly made their presence known in the middle of the night.

He whipped the door open with a fast slide, half-expecting to see Beast Boy, but was surprised to see a familiar purple cloak instead.

“Raven?” he asked softly, his voice quiet not to wake the others. “What’s going on?”

The girl’s face was serious as she answered. She looked hesitant, but pushed on anyway.

“I…believe something is happening. With Robin. I can tell he’s hiding something.”

Cyborg blinked slowly.

Oh.

So that was what this was about.

“I, uh, kind of had the same feeling too,” Cyborg eventually admitted. “But can you blame him? It’s Slade. He showed up at the tower while we were gone. We should have never left him alone, even if the tower is the safest place in the city. Considering their shared history, it must have been challenging to confide in us, so of course his behavior would feel off.”

Not like that was new, anyway.

It wasn’t exactly hard to recall the time Robin had almost sobbed, apologizing profusely for addressing Cyborg as his master, his knees wobbling.

Cyborg shrugged as he continued, wiping the memory away. “He even had the truth serum affecting him. He couldn’t lie to us.”

Raven’s expression was seriously still underneath her cloak.

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t hiding something from us.”

Silence flooded the corridor.

“Okay, true.” The half-robot admitted. “But do you have any concrete evidence?”

Raven nodded, “I do. But I need to gather the other Titans first.”

The half-robot raised an eye at this. “Wouldn’t waking up the others also wake up Robin?”

Raven shook her head, gesturing with her hand for him to leave his room. “No, he just left the tower. By himself.”

Alarm bells rang in Cyborg’s head as he processed that. “Robin left?! Are you sure?” he asked, his feet trailing behind her as she made her way to Beast Boy’s room.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Cyborg sighed at that, rubbing his forehead. “I thought he was finally done with those secret night activities.” His head looked at Robin’s closed empty bedroom as they passed. “Clearly not,” he mumbled sadly.

Raven had woken up Starfire, while Cyborg had woken up Beast Boy, shaking his shoulders incessantly.

The green boy had been pretty upset, his fists playfully hitting Cyborg's side. “Dude, I literally just fell asleep!”

Raven faced him with a frown. “Sleep can wait. We need to talk about Robin.”

The boy blinked sleepily. “What about him? Did he…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Hallucinate Slade again? Or his brother?”

Raven sighed, shaking her head. “Follow me. I’ll tell you.”

Starfire trembled slightly. “Is he okay?”

Cyborg sighed. “Let’s find out.”

The four moved to the living room, sharing the couch as they discussed. Robin’s empty presence was heavy. Huge. Obvious. It made all of them shift around, fidgeting as the silence grew.

They all exchanged glances.

Raven started first. “Today when talking about Slade, Robin was leaving things out. He said that he was uncomfortable and didn’t want to talk. He’s never said that before.”

He’s never openly chosen to admit weakness.

“But was that not the truth serum?” Starfire interjected. “He really did look shaken. Even if he tried to hide it from us.”

“It was the truth serum to an extent,” Raven replied. “But I’ve been watching him all day. Keeping an eye on him, while you all got pizza. It’s not adding up. He’s supposed to be honest, but with my powers I can sense that something is on his mind. Something he hasn’t told us. He feels conflicted.”

Beast Boy rubbed his eye tiredly. “Uhh, shouldn’t we respect his privacy? Like I know we are all looking out for him and stuff, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to share.”

Cyborg replied this time. “We usually would, but he just snuck out of the tower. This thing that he’s keeping from us—it could end up hurting him, or taking him away.”

The word “again” remained unsaid.

Raven gripped onto her cloak. “I think it has something to do with Slade. He was fine yesterday, but now he’s acting differently.” She looked at the team. “When Cyborg asked about Slade’s motive, Robin wasn’t fully honest. He kept saying stuff like ‘there is a chance’ or ‘I don’t know the absolute answer’. He’s avoiding our questions. He knows more about Slade than what he’s saying. And when I asked him if Slade could be the culprit all along, Robin defended him. Made sure I didn’t suspect him.”

The words settled into everyone’s mind.

Beast Boy scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It is kind of obvious that Robin is hiding something about Slade.”

Starfire’s eyes lit up, her gaze meeting the Titan’s main monitor in the living room.

“Why don’t we check the cameras? If Slade was really here, he must have been caught in the video.”

Cyborg nodded. “You’re right. Let me check.”

After a moment of typing, an array of colored videos pulled up on the screen. It showed a man in a black and orange suit with a mask on his face, and a teenager on the other side of the room. It appeared that the two were talking about something.

Despite the fact that Robin was clutching onto his bo staff, no attacks were made. And then, after three minutes, Slade left.

It was a simple video.

Beast Boy sniffed. “Seems pretty normal to me. Lines up with what Robin said.”

Starfire looked disappointed. “I wonder what Robin spoke to him about.” She gazed down at her hands. “…If only our cameras automatically recorded audio. I know the outdoor ones do, but the inside ones do not.”

In order to hear audio from the inside cameras, there was a button one had to press at the exact same time the footage was live. Unfortunately, Slade had spoken to Robin hours ago.

Beast Boy shrugged. “I mean, it’s for the best. Our private conversations being recorded is pretty unnecessary, so we never added it.”

Suddenly, Cyborg flinched. Jumped, actually.

“Wait—I think I see a volume button. I think the cameras actually captured the audio this time,” the half-robot rambled, his eyes intrigued by what he was seeing.

Beast Boy sat up from his seat, fully awake now. “What?! Since when?” Sweat dripped down his forehead. “All of our conversations have been recorded this whole time? Uh oh—I’ve probably said some real stupid things…”

Cyborg shook his head. “No, remember how Robin upgraded our communicators yesterday? He updated the mainframe too, meaning he upgraded the tower’s system with Justice League level tech, including the cameras. I think Robin only just now added this audio function.”

Raven blinked.

“...He probably doesn’t even know about it. It’s so new, and he updated everything so fast without the chance to check every new feature.”

She eyed Cyborg. “Robin has been hiding this from us, but now he’s unknowingly left an opening. Put the audio on. This is our chance.”

Warily, Cyborg adjusted the camera footage, increasing the volume so the whole team could hear.

And hear, they did.

“How long,” Robin said flatly through the speakers, “have you been here?”

Slade tilted his head at the kid. “Long enough to confirm what I suspected,” he replied. “And short enough to avoid your… friends.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

The team watched as Robin shuddered, unable to contain his discomfort.

“Leaving you behind was a smart call,” Slade continued. “You’re far more effective like this.”

“Say what you came to say and leave.”

“Oh, I intend to. But first—I wanted to congratulate you.”

“On what?”

“Making it this far,” Slade said simply. “The serum, and the ambush.” The man uncrossed his arms. “Word came out that a little bird had been challenged, and so I had to stop by and see for myself.”

Robin faltered. “…You know—? What are you…”

“You’ve always had great potential,” the man started. “It didn’t surprise me when I heard you fought back. I expected it, and you performed rather well. However, I heard that you mentioned me? Said something about how I left a lasting impact on you.”

They all watched as Robin swallowed.

“What do you want?”

“The same thing you do,” Slade said. “A—”

The audio suddenly cut off, with a previous dialogue taking its place.

“Long enough to confirm what I suspected. And short enough to avoid your… friends.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet, here I am.”

The Titans all exchanged looks, their eyes widening as they realized the audio was beginning to repeat itself. No, the video itself was repeating!

“He looped the footage.” Cyborg noted grimly. “Wiped out the entire middle section and replayed the same part. Edited the transitions to make them seamless. We would have never noticed if the audio hadn’t been available.”

Starfire opened her mouth hesitantly.

“Why did he remove the rest? What did Slade say?”

Raven’s eyes lingered on the screen, the audio still playing from the speakers. “Robin cut off the part about their deal. The deal where Slade had supposedly offered to help us from the sidelines in exchange for a sample of the serum.”

Cyborg sighed. “This means that there’s more to the deal than what Robin had let on. And from what I’m hearing about Robin sneaking out…”

“—Robin is hiding something bigger, and Slade is involved." Raven finished.

Beast Boy shook his head in dismay, his eyes searching the screen. He couldn’t believe it. Their leader had almost hidden this from them. It was unbelievable. It was difficult to even fathom.

“What? Why…why would Robin hide this from us? Does he not trust us?” The boy asked.

“No,” Raven denied, her voice grim.

She turned away from the monitor, her eyes now meeting the team’s.

“The issue is that we don’t trust Robin.”

The room became eerily silent, the only audio being Slade's muffled voice from the cameras.

Starfire spoke first, her voice hesitant. “I do not understand. Raven, we…do not trust Robin?”

Raven shook her head. “We do. But to him, it doesn’t seem that way.”

Cyborg’s eyes widened at that. “...We made him stay behind,” he realized. “While we took down the H.I.V.E. and that bank, we made him stay alone at the tower.”

Raven nodded. “To him, that was a sign that we did not trust him. We did not trust him to keep his own secrets, and to keep ours. Even now,” she hesitated. “While we were justified, at the end of the day…we did not believe him.”

“But,” Starfire stammered, “we were only trying to protect him! We didn’t want Brother Blood to get his hands on him again.”

“But he doesn’t need protection, Starfire.” Cyborg replied solemnly. “He’s our leader. We look out for each other, but we don’t abandon each other.” The half-robot spun his head to look at the Titan monitor, wincing as he met Robin’s scared expression on the screen. “We separated him from us. After all we said to him about the importance of sticking together...”

Beast Boy lowered his head to the ground.

“...So what—?” He whispered. “He went back to Slade?”

Raven nodded. “He went back to someone who treated him like a proper equal on the field. Someone that could assist him in getting answers.”

Starfire clenched her fists. “But Slade does not treat him better than us, yes?! He hurt Robin!”

A green glow flickered in her eyes, her emotions boiling over.

“I saw it! We all did! He was hurting him! He had bruises and broken bones when he came back to us! Even if we do not speak about it much, we all saw it!”

“I know, Star,” Cyborg replied. “We all know.”

Raven tugged off her cloak, revealing her full head.“I believe his relationship with Slade is more than what we know. Whatever happened between them, it wasn’t simple.”

She eyed the monitor, watching as a grown man with a masked face chuckled softly.

She shook her head. “Not only that, but I think he’s afraid to tell us everything because of how we will react. We’ve been trying to not make it obvious, but we’ve all seen the changes in him. And of course, he’s noticed that too. That we’ve been walking around eggshells with him.”

“But we need to help him,” Starfire declared. “We need to!”

Cyborg placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice low.

“We do need to, Star. But we also need to be patient. We need to show Robin that we trust him first. That we care for him. That no matter what he does, he’ll still be our leader. A Teen Titan.”

Starfire blinked at him tearfully, before nodding. “Will…will that make him return to us?”

Raven looked down at the floor. “He hasn't left. Not yet. He’s still with us. We just need to show him that we care. We don’t do this because we don’t trust him, we do this because we love him. If…we talk about us seeing this altered camera footage and confront him for it, he could get the wrong idea. It could push him away.”

Starfire rubbed her eyes, the gesture stinging.

“It hurts…to think that he believes we don’t love him. That we don’t support him.”

She glanced out the Tower’s windows, her eyes longing. “I hope he will tell us soon…without needing a serum. I hope that we can help him, and that he knows that we will all be there for him.”

The team could only sit there in the dimly lit room, listening to choppy video footage, wondering what Robin was doing right now with Slade.