Chapter Text
...
Slade stared at the results.
He hadn't planned for it to go this far. It had only been an experiment. A hunch. That Richard Grayson, the ward of a certain billionaire was Robin.
That wasn't a surprise. He had known about Bruce Wayne's secret identity for years. It had just become clear a few months back when the Batman was injured by the Joker. There were only a handful of people with enough skills and money to treat that particular set of wounds.
It hadn't taken long after that to learn that Richard wasn't adopted. That the boy's parents had been circus performers who were killed during an act. That a trapeze catch had gone wrong. That a man named Tony Zucco had made the call to have the equipment tampered with. Bruce Wayne took the kid in as his ward.
Months later, Robin was on the scene. Then appeared in Jump when Grayson was supposedly in a boarding school. During his last fight with Robin, Slade decided to get a blood sample to test his theory.
In a way he wasn't wrong. At the same time he couldn't have been more wrong. Slade was painfully reminded of a time before the army. When he was married. When a young woman was pregnant.
Richard Grayson wasn't John Grayson's biological son. The DNA tests were conclusive. Slade was looking at the proof.
Richard was his.
...
Richard ran a hand along his ribs wincing as his fingers came away bloody. He had been careless. Luckily the wounds were hidden from the Titans as they returned from the mission.
His uniform would need repairs, but nothing too obvious. He had learned how to take care of these things long ago.
Batman taught him how to take care of his uniform. How to stitch up minor injuries. How to hide evidence. How to conceal.
Richard would never let his teammates down. They didn't need to know that he was injured. As the only one without powers it would discredit him as the leader.
But he was tired. Not physically. Richard could handle that. Even with his training, Richard still needed his rest.
Mentally he was exhausted. His friends were always pushing. Always wanting him to make the decision. Beast Boy and Raven. Starfire and Cyborg. They all looked to him. And it wasn't the easy decisions either. It was the hard ones. When everything was against them.
He couldn't blame them. They were children. He was a child. Robin had to be the adult as the leader. That didn't make it easier for him. The only break he got, not that he would ever admit it, was when he was Slade's apprentice.
Slade made the decisions. Richard knew he should hate him. But it was almost like having an actual father again. It was different than Bruce.
He pushed asode the feeling. Robin wouldn't let the team down them.couldn't let them down.
The Tower was dark and silent as the others had gone to bed as soon as they returned. No one else had been significantly injured. Just a few bruises and scrapes. He kept his own supplies in his room. He'd patch up the injury then deal with the costume.
Richard entered his room and flipped on the lights. Only they didn't come on. The tower's backup generator must have blown again. The city was being renovated, so the power had been intermittent all day.
Richard sighed. He was tired. Just one more thing to deal with. There should be a few flashlights in his emergency kit. He had used them often enough.
After a few moments of digging through his stuff he found what he was looking for. A small penlight and an industrial sized lantern. He would use the light of the city outside to change the costume.
As he unclasped his cape, his hand brushed over a new cut. He must have missed one in his rush. With the cape removed he was able to see the damage better. The fabric was torn, the gash under the tear. Blood slowly leaking.
He reached behind him, grabbed the first aid kit and pulled out some antiseptic wipes. The sting was familiar. Pain was nothing to him anymore. It didn't make him flinch.
He was tired.
There was a soft hiss and the sound of feet on carpet. Someone was in the room with him. He quickly stood. The latern light wasn't enough to illuminate the room completely.
A hand went for one of his weapons. His bow staff was the easiest to find. He tried to see into the darkness of his room. He couldn't see anyone in the room.
"Put the weapon down," A voice demanded.
A cold chill spread through him. He couldn't breathe. Slade was here. Slade was in the Tower. His team was in danger. He couldn't see Slade but there was no mistaking that voice.
In his ears, his heart pounded. Facing down an angry Bruce would be less frightening. Richard would face Slade. Would protect his friends.
Richard brought up his bow staff in a defensive posture. Even as a small part of him wanted to obey.
He was so tired.
"What are you doing here?" Robin demanded. "You can't be here."
The Tower was supposed to be their safe haven. If Slade could simply sneak in, what would stop other villains from doing the same?
"I said put the weapon down," Slade repeated.
The order sent another chill through him. Memories. Flashes.
He was back in the warehouse. Alone. Slade standing before him. Telling him what he was to do. What would happen if he failed.
A shudder ran through him. Richard would stand. His team depended on him.
"Why are you here?" Richard asked shakily.
"This conversation would go faster if you cooperated," Slade pointed out.
"I'm not your apprentice," he retorted getting a better sense of where Slade was.
To his right. He still couldn't see the other in the shadows. Richard wasn't going to give Slade any advantage.
"That's not why I'm here tonight," admitted Slade closer this time.
Richard tightened his grip on his staff and turned to the side. Slade had moved to his left.
"Why are you here?" he asked again.
He was stalling. Slade was between him and the door. Richard's comlink was broken.
"To talk," came the reply, "Put. Down. The. Weapon."
Slade's voice was lower. A familiar promise in those words. Instinct told him to listen. Richard fought it down. He would not submit.
He was tired.
"Now!"
In that moment something gave within him. This had happened before. Richard was so tired of fighting. He was tired. So tired.
Robin threw his bow staff. It flew into the wall, bounced and clattered to the floor. The lantern rolled across the floor. The light flickering.
Richard stood his ground. His fists clenched. Ready to face whatever Slade did next. The light caught the figure as Slade walked forward. One step. Two steps.
He was in his usual uniform and mask. Unarmed. Slade stopped an arms reach away. Richard couldn't move. His body was frozen in place.
"Better," praised Slade.
Richard felt the flush of pleasure at the word. The feeling was short lived.
"How did you get in the tower?"
Slade huffed darkly, "It's not that difficult, Robin. I have broken into the most secure buildings in the world. Compared to them, the Tower is laughably easy."
"Then why are you here," asked Richard.
"I was going to wait until tomorrow," began Slade, "but, the situation has changed.
What? Richard couldn't wrap his head around it. Nothing made sense. Why would Slade want to come back to the tower? To speak to him.
"You are injured."
"It's not that bad," answered Robin reflexively.
"Sit," A command not to be disobeyed.
Richard was moving to the chair at his desk before his mind had a chance to object.
Slade walked over and picked up the dropped lantern. The room was thrown into stark relief. The bright white and gold of his room. Slade moved a pile of clothes aside, putting the lamp on the table.
Slade opened the medical kit. Pulling out more supplies than Robin had in the first place.
"Shirt."
His hands started moving even before his mind had registered the command. His shirt was off. He shivered, a combination of the cold and the realization that he had been trained so well.
The pain in his shoulder was forgotten as Slade moved behind him. Fear coursed through him. Slade was behind him. Out of his line of sight.
Slade touched the cut, inspecting it. Richard winced. The fingers were rough.
"This is going to scar," he said matter-of-factly.
"It wouldn't be the first time," he whispered.
The words were out of his mouth before he had thought about them. He tensed. Slade didn't seem to have heard. Or if he did, didn't care.
Slade applied a salve and covered it with a large bandage. The silence stretched out between them. Richard's mind racing. He didn't understand. Didn't want to think. He was tired.
"Are there others," a question.
Richard could have lied. Could have deflected the answer. It wasn't really a lie.
"A couple."
He was afraid of the repercussions. Slade hadn't given a single hint. Richard waited for the blow to come.
"Show me," commanded Slade.
The lantern was still on the desk. It wasn't nearly as bright. Richard didn't dare argue. He held out his arm.
His forearm had a long gash, running parallel to his wrist. The result of an earlier battle with Mumbo.
He flinched slightly when Slade took his wrist. Slade examined the injury. It wasn't bleeding badly, the blood having slowed to a trickle. Slade grabbed a clean wipe and cleaned the area. Richard's arm trembled in the strong grip.
"You are fortunate this is not deep."
Richard nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Slade let go and retrieved some gauze and tape. After the wound was clean and dried, he wrapped it in gauze and fastened it with tape.
"Is there anywhere else," Slade asked, taking a step back.
The question shocked him. This wasn't what he expected. Not after Slade's previous attitude.
"I'm fine," Robin answered.
"Your reaction would say otherwise," came the calm dry response.
Richard couldn't argue with that. His arm ached, but that was his only concern. He had received worse and continued fighting.
"Stand."
"What?"
"I need to check," replied Slade.
Robin swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Okay."
He stood and faced the other. He couldn't help his apprehension.
Slade was close, a hairsbreadth away. Slowly he ran his fingers along the boy's side, probing.
Robin didn't react. This was different. Different from their last fight. Different from their previous interactions.
Slade found the new cut, and traced the edge of it. Robin hissed, pulling back.
"Where did you get this?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted.
It wasn't an injury from that day. There had been so many fights over the last few weeks. Any of them could have caused the injury.
"When was the last time someone other than you patched up one of your injuries?"
Robin frowned. His first reaction was to ask why that was relevant. He had always taken care of his own injuries. At the Batcave, Alfred had taught him to do so.
Since coming to Jump, he was always treating the other's injuries. The only time they treated his, was if he was unconscious. The last time he remembered someone treating his injuries, was Slade. During his apprenticeship.
No matter how angry Slade had been. No matter how much Richard mouthed off. Slade treated his injuries.
"My apprenticeship," he whispered almost silently.
"Good boy," a pleased tone.
He wasn't supposed to be pleased. Richard wasn't supposed to tell him the truth. But, the words felt good. He wasn't used to praise. He was so tired.
Richard forced himself to his feet unable to stay seated any longer. He swayed and had to grab the back of the chair.
"Easy," said Slade.
His warm hand grabbed Richard's arm to hold him steady. He didn't understand why the man was acting like this.
"I don't understand," mumbled Richard, "why are you helping me? Why are you here?"
"I've told you, I'm not here to hurt you or your friends," answered Slade.
"Why should I believe you?" he asked, leaning heavily against the chair.
"I can assure you, none of them will be harmed," answered Slade, "We do need to talk. However you are too exhausted for this conversation. We will meet again."
"I'm not going to..."
Slade didn't wait. The hand holding him released, the other pressed a button on a small device. Everything faded and his legs collapsed under him.