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Take your Medicine	By : Imaginary Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Slash - Male/Male > Robin/Slade Views: 8215 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, nor the characters of the series, nor do I make any money or profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 7
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- 9
AN: Sorry that this chapter is late! My beta's computer crashed, and no matter how hard she tried to get it fixed, she had to get a new one in the end. BTW, I first planned to write a longer (20k words) chapter, but I decided to cut it in half, and post as 2 separate chapters. I'm sorry, and plea with my earnest apology that you are still reading this, and are not too mad at the long wait. anyways, on with the story.

He felt the nervousness take over him as Robin tried to think what Slade possibly had in mind. He had absolutely no idea, but he could bet that it wouldn't be anything good. He knew that whatever it would be would, in no way, be something he'd look forward to. Or that's what he thought when he heard the tone in Slade's voice. It was as if the man was mocking him, sounding as if he knew something the other didn't and that made Robin furious. And besides, knowing Slade, it wouldn't be anything good, even if he tried to pride the boy. Slade always had something hidden underneath everything. It was as if the man couldn't think without having second thoughts or meanings for his actions. It unnerved and confused Robin.

Robin had decided to take a fast trip to the gym instead of going straight to the kitchen. He did his very best to release some of that pent up frustration. The teen had tried to distract himself from his thoughts by training there, hitting the bag and doing push-ups and sit-ups. He had already broken a sweat. Once he had finally completed the whole list of different exercises that Slade had prepared for him, he went to the kitchen, planning to have his dinner now. Robin didn't care to take a shower now because he did not desire the thought of going to Slade's shower to take one. Besides, Slade probably had something nasty in his mind anyway, so why even bother? Oh how he would come to regret that decision later.

When Robin entered the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of Slade's robot wandering around, but it soon disappeared as it went through a door at the far end of the room. Robin himself had never gone there, but he thought that it was probably the place where the bots prepared the food or something. After Robin shrugged his shoulders as he decided he was more hungry than interested, he sat in the chair, inhaling the sweet aroma of potatoes, some steak cuts, brown sauce, and some vegetables. He didn't like the vegetables that much and one could tell so by the look he gave his plate. Vegetables were disgusting, in taste and texture. Some of them he could eat, for example, broccoli was in fact rather tasty, but corn, peas, carrot, and tomatoes were disgusting. Robin almost wanted to push those disgusting multicolored plants off his plate and under the table, but he was brought up better. Bruce had made himself very clear when he stated that food was not something to play with and you should eat anything and everything on your plate. The only excuse from eating them would be that you were allergic and sadly, Robin was not; to anything.

Swallowing down his pride, Robin started from the vegetables, so he could then flush the taste away with potatoes and steak, which were much tastier than some stupid green peas. Without even chewing, Robin swallowed them down as fast as possible without having to even taste them. Damn Slade and his healthy life style. Well, healthy on the matter of food. The plate was a perfect image of what one's plate should look like if they were trying to eat as healthy as possible; half-a-plate full of vegetables and a salad (well salad was fine, but vegetables?) then a small portion of potatoes and the rest was steak and sauce. Not that living with Slade was bad enough, but he had to eat healthy now too? What was wrong with pizza? It had olives, pineapple, and tomatoes; they were vegetables and, hell, fruit.

Robin soon finished his plateful and drank a full glass of milk before taking his leave to look for Slade, as he had promised. He didn't know where he should start looking. Slade had said that they'd meet after dinner, but so far he'd seen no sign of him. While walking around the hideout, looking for Slade, he paid attention for a suitable escape route. As he walked, he got more nervous with every step he took. Robin's mind kept racing, alternating from a nice surprise to horrible shock. Maybe the man wanted to test his new found shooting skills and make him kill animals or people? He couldn't be that cruel, could he?

Okay, yes he could. That formed a heavy lump in Robin's throat, almost making him want to hide and hope that Slade wouldn't find him until tomorrow and maybe, just maybe, he'd forget the whole thing. But there was no such luck. When Robin decided to just forget finding Slade and instead try to find a place to hide-no, not hide. He wasn't a coward. He would just find a place where he could strategize his next move, that was more like it. But as he turned on his heels, he walked right into Slade. Did Robin have the best of luck or what?

"Well there you are. Hopefully all ready and excited, I bet," Slade said, gripping his arm painfully as he shoved him around to keep walking.

Robin did not dare ask where they were going. Well he would have dared, but he wasn't so sure if he wanted to know. They already went past the point where Robin still knew the surroundings. Every corridor and turn looked the same and he was sure Slade had been trying to distract him by making them walk in circles, but what could he do about it? As long as he was down here with him, he'd play by his rules.

Robin felt nervous and heavy as Slade took him around another corner, leading him to a room. A small room, which Robin was glad that they were only walking through, because he didn't like to work in small spaces. Especially with Slade.

After they exited the small room, they reached a huge room, a hall in fact. It was filled with square shaped pipes that zigzagged, moved up and down, back and forth, up and down, and they even had turns. They divided to even more and more pipes and they seemed to fill the space perfectly, only leaving small spaces between the pipes. Just the right size for Robin to crawl through. The pipes themselves were rather big. About half a meter by half a meter or even smaller. Robin couldn't really tell.

This would be easy. If his mission was to reach the other end of the hall, he could do that blindfolded and with his hands tied behind his back! Robin felt a smile spread across his face. What had he been afraid of? He had been so nervous for this? Ha, this had to be a joke right? What a maroon he was.

"So your mission is to reach the other end of the room. There is a full glass of water with ice cubes there as your reward," Slade said with a smug voice, probably thinking that the water would be the perfect prize.

"I can do that," Robin said, his voice full of self confidence, almost even slight happiness, because he really had thought about something much worse.

"I hope you can at least try," Slade said, making Robin's mood falter slightly. Somehow he got the feeling that this was not all. "But just to be fair, I'll give you a flashlight, map, and a compass so it'll be easier for you to get to your destination. But after this, you will not be rewarded with such petty things."

Slade had successfully confused Robin without even knowing it. A flashlight? For what? The room was perfectly lit and he could get there just fine without a map or a compass. Robin could even see the destination with his eyes if he really took a look. He was about to tell Slade about it, but decided to keep his mouth shut. When one was offering him something, he shouldn't turn it down. If he said they'd be useful, they probably would.

"My robots managed to find these not long ago and they only now managed to fix them up. They are not cleaned though, just to keep the thing more realistic," Slade further explained, looking around the maze he had built. "So remember, in the future, you'll come to these kinds of situations, but then you'll have to survive without help and without the use of your given equipment." The villain handed Robin his supplies while getting more confused every passing second. Maybe Slade had built traps along the pipe maze? "So, do you think you are ready?"

Slade leaned back on one of the pipe structures, the one that was jutting away from the others and the only one that had a "beginning". The others just seemed to split from there.

"I think so," Robin said, trying to hide his slightly lowered confidence.

"Good, so in you go then," Slade said, opening the vent cover.

It revealed a small opening, where inside he could only see darkness, an endless amount of small, depressing space, and where one didn't even have enough space to crawl around. Even turning around would be impossible.

"What? You mean in there? No fucking way," Robin said with shock.

He was claustrophobic for God sakes! He was not going in there! No fucking way!

"Language boy," Slade warned. "Now as I said, get in there. This is perfect training for you. Something to scare you out of your fear of small spaces and something to train you to travel in air vents. Two birds with one stone."

"You got to be kidding me…" Robin mumbled.

He couldn't believe Slade even considered the idea of sending him in there. It was a death trap!

"Oh, I forgot to tell, there is about two or three miles worth of these vents, so I suggest that you get started so you can get to sleep today. Don't get lost."

"I'm not going."

"You either go in there or you'll cry when I force you in there. So which is it going to be?"

"You are evil!"

"I have heard them say such a thing, so maybe. But now, get in the vents."

"Never!" Robin was about to have a fight about this, but the look Slade gave him told him one and only one thing exactly: you nor your friends, will see another sunrise if you don't get your ass in the vents this instant. How can a person with only one eye manage such a scary look? Suddenly being scolded by an angry Bruce in the middle of the night on the rooftops seemed like a picnic with care bears and Robin seriously considered his choices.

Finally, Robin lifted his head, and said, "I'm not going."

The answer he got was a painful grab to his wrist and Slade cruelly throwing him head first into the black, endless, small space. Robin was about to crawl his way out of the hell hole, but Slade shut the opening, the smallest trace of light disappearing from within, leaving him in complete darkness. Robin could feel the whole place crash around him. He was sure that every second the walls were getting closer and the air was running away. He wanted to get out, to push on the walls, and make them go away. He tried to thrash around, but nothing remarkable happened. All he could see was still pitch black darkness, he still couldn't move much, and he felt how his air was being sucked away. When his attempts were futile, Robin tried to do the smartest thing in this situation.

'First, try to breath, breath, get air…no, no hyperventilating! Take it easy, relax, concentrate.'

Robin now wished he could change his position. He had tried to turn, but that was impossible. Thrashing and rising on his knees and elbows wasn't working because the space was too small. Lastly he tried to curl up in a defensive ball, but he could not bring his knees to his chest. The walls were too close, pinning him down.

Robin was really scared. The walls were closing in on him. He could almost hear and feel the walls tighten around him; squeezing him; making his lungs implode. He would give everything he had for a lungful of air and to get the hell out of there. His mind was racing, his lungs were burning, his heart was pounding against his chest, and he could feel the adrenaline fill his veins as he panicked. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Stuck in an air vent, suffocating to death. He no longer saw the darkness, but a light so bright that he was sure it was caused by the lack of oxygen, that his brain was telling him that this was it, that he was seeing the light. He was really going to die. His mind was racing a thousands miles a second and he started to replay his life. Everyone knew that when you were going to die, you saw your life go past your eyes like film tape.

He saw himself as a young boy at a circus, training in acrobatics with his parents. He also saw his dad raise him on his shoulder, having him ride on him, playing like he was an airplane. He saw how the flexible woman was practicing her stunt, having herself bend to an almost inhuman position. She was so flexible, she even managed to squeeze herself into a tiny box. Richard was sure that even he could not fit in there even if he was way smaller than the woman. The young boy admired her flexibility and wanted to be just like her when he grew up. If he could combine flexibility to acrobatics, he could become almost inhuman, imagine what one could do then! He could be like Superman! He did not have any super powers, but being flexible and aerobatic would compensate. His parents had thought it was great and they allowed him to watch the flexible woman train. Sometimes they even joked about it: if Richard didn't go to sleep by ten, they'd lock him in a crate. He had only laughed about it then.

One day, Richard had once again been watching her train, but when she went out to town with her boyfriend, he decided to train a little on his own. In her caravan she had many different sized crates and poles, even some books about the exercises. Richard did not much care about the books. He liked to learn by trying things out himself. Because he didn't want to accidentally destroy anything by falling from a pole (he was not supposed to get caught), he decided to try fitting himself in one of the crates. He had seen the flexible woman do the trick so many times that he knew exactly how he needed to bend his body and legs to fit in the box. He had chosen the smallest he knew he would fit in and, once he had the lid shut, felt proud of himself.

His parents should see him, but he couldn't get out of the crate. If he did, he would have to go in again. It had taken him some time to get in in the first place. Richard soon heard voices from the outside of the box and he came up with a plan. When they were close enough he would open the lid and surprise them. Richard was sure that they'd be astonished, laugh, and then congratulate him. But once he tried opening the lid, he noticed that it was stuck. He felt a stern pull and the box was lifted from the ground. He suddenly felt unsteady as the box swung in the air. He started to feel sick after they had taken the box to who knows where. He had tried to yell to them to put the box down, but it muffled his cries. Soon Richard was getting really scared.

Once the box was finally put back on stern ground, Richard was starting to feel horribly distressed since the crate had been put upside down and he was now almost resting on his head. Time passed and he felt his joints ache. All kinds of resistance was futile. If he even tried to move, he'd just bring more weight on his already squashed neck. He had cried for so long that his eyes had started to burn and he was almost losing his mind in the dark place. He could not get out. He could not smell, hear, see, or even feel anything. He had already become numb from everything else expect the soreness of his muscles and joints. He could not even breath properly anymore because of the position he was in. He had screamed his throat sore and he was so tired that he couldn't move an inch. Soon the small boy was wishing that he would faint so he wouldn't be in that place ever again. He soon heard voices again.

The box was once again lifted, moved a meter or two, and then dropped down. The box even rolled some that Richard was now resting on his side, still feeling really uncomfortable. He would have tried to scream again, hoping that they would hear, but he couldn't find the strength in his body. He had no idea where the box had been dropped because it was now moving slightly, swaying. Maybe if he could move his limbs a little to make the box look like he was shuddering, the people outside would stop to look for it. Richard tried to struggle, but his muscles did not move. They were stiff and sore and they were numb and felt as if thousands of needles were pricking them. If he could, he would have cried.

Pretty soon he heard muffled voices outside: horrified, angry, worried voices. But he could not hear what people were saying. Soon he heard a rather loud clonk and then a splash and he became fearfully aware. It was the sound of water. Water had just splashed somewhere against his crate and he was worried sick. Had he been thrown into the ocean? Is that the reason the box felt like it was rocking? Was he now floating on the waves?

With his last strength he could muster by the aid of panic, he screamed and struggled and couldn't help but panic further as he felt cold water get inside the box. Richard felt like it was only a matter of minutes before the box would be full of water and he would drown. He screamed, struggled, cried, trashed, did pretty much everything in his power to get out. But soon his strength was drained and he really felt like giving up for good. He then felt stomping. The crate vibrated along with them. His groggy mind was confused. Was he not in water after all? Then why did his box leak?

The box was soon lifted and then placed down on solid ground, this time lid up. He could hear a lock being opened and soon he saw dim rays of light come inside. He heard a loud horrified gasp. Soon, the only thing he could register was a lot of worried people, him being lifted from the box, but not being able to untangle himself from his position because his muscles were too stiff. Next he noted that he was pulled in a warm embrace by his crying mother who planted sweet kisses all over his head.

After that he had never gone anywhere near the boxes or any tight spaces again. But he did not give up on the thought of being flexible. After his parents had died, he was training with Bruce and he sluggishly remembered him teaching him how to handle one's emotions and fears. To master other people's fear, you had to master your own. Bruce had never been able to repel the fear from Robin, even if he had tried with all his might. He had told him step-by-step what to do, but during his distress Robin could not bring himself to obey any of the advice, only shut himself from everything.

Soon the scene of Bruce and him training changed to one where he was fighting alongside his friends against Slade. The villain had knocked him to the ground, pointing his bo staff at him, kicking him lightly in the ribs and urging him to rise up and try again. The fight was not over, not even near over, and the only thing Robin could register over the pain all over his body was Slade's deep voice that urged him to continue. That voice seemed to drill its way through Robin's thick skull and straight to his brain. With new energy, he lifted himself up and lunged for another attack.

Robin saw pieces from all around his life, from earlier moments to more recent ones, but soon he was back in the vent, not moving, not breathing, not doing anything. Soon the panic was filling up on him again, but he tried to hold himself. He was not a child anymore, he was mature! He tried to recall Bruce's training, tried to take deep and slow breaths, trying to avoid hyperventilation. He even closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, but it did not seem to help. His mind was filled with images; images of tight spaces, of suffering, suffocating, and pain. He was about to start trashing again, but he heard someone call his name from the distance.

The voice was deep, manly, relaxed and it sounded so care free compared to Robin's wailing inside his head that he soon registered what was happening. Slade was calling for him. The other man was only repeating his name, but he was speaking to him nonetheless. Soon the pounding of blood in his ears was abating, he could hear his breathing, and he felt his heart pumping blood through his veins. Robin could now taste the coppery taste in his mouth that had gone there as he hyperventilated. He had also bitten his tongue without realizing it. His mouth felt like sandpaper and he tried to moisten it with his saliva to make it feel at least a little better.

"I bet you're tired. Just relax. Breathe. Close your eyes, think about your friends, and rest for a minute."

Robin could hear Slade's voice no matter how thick the layer of steel that separated them was. Somehow he found himself grab onto that voice as if his life depended on it. And as far as he knew, it did. Robin did everything the voice told him. He closed his eyes and relaxed. He let his burning forehead rest against the coldness of the vent walls, letting his body go completely lax, and focusing on his breathing. He could feel his mouth producing more saliva than he could swallow and some even dripped onto the bottom of the vent, forming a small puddle. He did not mind it. He was so tired that he felt like falling asleep in there. But Robin didn't. He did as the voice said and thought about his friends. He was sure that they would be really proud of him now. Or they should. They would probably cheer for him if they were here and that made Robin feel warm. They would never let him suffer alone and would cheer him on.

"So do you think you are ready? Now, open your eyes, but don't move yet. Just observe the darkness." Robin did as he was told and stared. He did not fear the dark and he couldn't even see the walls. If he tried, he could reassure himself that there were no walls, that they only existed in his head. The thought seemed somehow relaxing and the darkness felt rather soothing. Maybe this was not so impossible or scary after all. Maybe he had just overreacted. "Now get the flashlight, compass and map, and plan your route."

Robin did manage to crawl forward a little so he could avoid ruining the map in his drool puddle, trying to stay as low as possible to avoid hitting the roof and panicking. He then carefully unfolded the map in front of him, placing the compass on it. Finally, Robin picked up his flashlight and took his last calming breaths. He breathed in as much air as he could, closed his eyes, and turned on the light. He did not see anything because his eyes were still closed. So far nothing happened. Maybe he shouldn't open his eyes. Carefully peering through one, he took a small glimpse of the vent before closing it again. He had seen a vent that kept going on as far as he could make out with his flashlight. It wasn't really bright which in a way was an advantage in Robin's mind. The dim light was soothing. It did not make his mind jumpy or tense. Soon he opened both eyes and was surprised how easily he could handle it in the end. Slade seemed to have known what he was doing when he sent Robin in there. It was as if the man knew that he didn't have any real phobia for small places, just a small trauma that he had to overcome. Robin would never admit it to anyone, but he was slightly grateful for the man. Or maybe the reason for why he was able to do this was that after he started failing and yell for five minutes, Bruce would come and get him out. Now that he was with Slade, he had to cope. Slade wouldn't come and save him for some petty thing. Robin needed to learn to manage on his own. For real this time.

As Robin laid eyes on the map, he was only barely able to stop his jaw from dropping to the iron bottom of the vent. The man was not kidding when he said there was about two or three miles worth of vents. The map showed every twist and turn and Robin could see many loose ends on the map. He had better come up with the right route on the first try or else he would not be able to get out. That didn't sound good. Trying to swallow down his nervousness, Robin tried to find the easiest and shortest route to the other side of the room and was rather disappointed to find out that he needed to experience all kinds of twists and turns on his way.

'Well better get started,' he thought.

Creeping through the vents was an interesting experience. Who was he kidding? Robin would give his weapons to whoever wanted them to never be in this experience ever again. The first few feet when he only had to go straight ahead wasn't so bad. One could easily creep through and on the way Robin had discovered an easy way to move.

Pushing himself forward with his elbows, knees, fingers, and toes was easy enough. It reminded him of the army exercise where you had to crawl under the barbed wire on your stomach. He hated how the compass and flashlight pushed against his body as he was almost lying on them though. Robin noted that having the flashlight's looped thread around his hand kept it near-by and available whenever he needed it. It wasn't in the way that much anyway. The compass he kept on his belt pocket pressed against his hip, making the spot ache, but he ignored it. The turns to the right and left were easy enough because he could use his hands to drag and pull himself forward. Then, when he came to his next crossing that led either up or down, Robin was puzzled. Why oh why did he need to take a turn down now? He couldn't go head first or he would snap his neck if he were to hit his head on the bottom. He did not have much room to turn and even if he could, that meant that he would need to go legs first from then on. He did not have much choice though. He could not risk himself busting his neck in here. How would Slade rescue him if he did? No, bad brain! Robin did not need rescuing. Repeat: did not. He was not a damsel in distress. He was not helpless.

With the power fed by his stubbornness, Robin leaned in to the turn, taking hold of the opposite wall by his left hand and holding from the base where he now was laying with his right hand. He couldn't afford to fall in there. The first thing Robin did was to try and turn himself around so that he was no longer laying on his stomach but on his back. He then pulled himself into a sitting position, having his legs and behind still on the vent he was coming from and his upper body on the turn upwards. Okay, this wasn't so bad. Robin then tried to lift himself up enough to get his legs out from the vent he was coming from. This became a slight problem because there wasn't much of anything he could take hold of. The teen could only lean his back against the opposite wall and hope he didn't slip. After that he could only use the same method; pushing his hands on opposite walls and hoping to slide down. It wasn't fun and definitely not easy, but it was possible.

As Robin finally reached the bottom, he decided if he wanted to travel on his stomach or on his back, he'd end up going on his back. He had noted that turning from your stomach to your back was, in fact, possible, but it was troublesome and he did not like the feeling of his sides and arms rubbing against the iron. When he had to move from the right side of the vent to the left at the same when turning (because there was no room to just flip over), it was not something he would like to do too many times. The suit Slade gave him was something Robin was really grateful now for. His arms would probably be bleeding by now if he was wearing his Robin uniform and his cape would probably slow him down, get stuck, and… Robin did not like the thought of getting stuck. Not at all. Shaking it out of his head, he twisted himself and continued creeping forward.

So far Robin had only hit one dead end because he had lost count of the turns due to distractions. Well, he bet that anyone would get a little distracted if one found a huge dead rat in one's path. He had told Slade, but the man only laughed it off and said something like, 'to keep things realistic'. Robin was about to puke when he tried to creep over it without touching it, but of course that was impossible. He could feel it scrape his back and, when the fur brushed his uncovered neck, he jolted and hit his head on the roof of the vent, gaining a pretty hefty headache from it.

What Robin hated the most were L-shaped turns. It was easier now that he was traveling legs first, which he was pretty happy about after experiencing some L-shaped turns going down. But this L-turn was made just to satisfy Slade's urges to be as much of a nuisance to Robin as possible. So, the boy was now legs first on an L-turn, which led up. Great. There was absolutely no chance that he could get his legs up first, because he could not lift himself up and turn at the same time. Was this even the right turn? Picking up the map, Robin looked at his location. Yes, it was. Sighing, he tried to plan out what he wanted to do. He wasn't going to ask for Slade's help on this. He would prove himself to him that he could do this. Hm, the man was probably already laughing at his poor attempts, probably including making a bet on his failure with his colleagues. Did Slade even have colleagues? Slade-bots probably weren't much of betting partners, he imagined.

Shooing the thoughts out of his head, Robin took an observing look. The only option he found was to go back two turns, switch positions so he could come back head first and try again. Well that sucked. Having no other choice, he had to redo the trip, change position, and after that the turn wouldn't present a problem. In the future, he would plan his positions with better caution.

After a while of traveling, Robin was really looking forward to that glass of water. It was boiling hot in the vents and the air seemed to hover around, not a single gust of wind passing by. The air in the vent was stuffy and smelled horrible. Probably because there were who-knows-what animals rotting in there. Robin shook slightly at the image of the dead rat in his mind. Shaking the image from his head, the teen made his way through the tunnels once more. He was now creeping head first in the vents and he knew he was almost to the end of his route. After a right turn, he wanted to back up and come up with another route. The last of the vents were covered by thick spider and cobwebs and there seemed to be thousands of those little eight-legged beasts around, laying peacefully on their huge nests, ready to land on Robin if he dared to crash them.

Well this was no good. Should he turn back? This route was the shortest. If he took another one, it would possibly take half as long, maybe more. Oh how Robin would have wanted to turn to Slade and seek for help and assurance, but his stubbornness did not give that thought any room. Many times he had been stuck in a hard turn and he wanted to ask help, almost plead to be let out from those small, stuffy, horrible smelling and hot vents, but his pride did not allow it. He would not bend in and seek for the man's help now when he had gotten this far already. He could do this, no problem.

"Slade?"

Boy, did he ever think? Turning to Slade when faced with spiders? Did he have arachnophobia or what?

"Yes, Robin?"

"Why are there spiders in here?"

Robin had effectively hidden his inner fear from Slade, deciding that he wanted the man to think that he asked this with full self confidence. Robin really hoped that he hadn't caught the small crack in his voice at the very start of the sentence. Once again, the teen was answered by a deep, almost forced laugh.

"To keep things more realistic. Almost all vents have spiders. I'm surprised you didn't encounter them sooner."

Well that made sense. The little monsters would inhabit any place they could fit themselves into.

"So I'm supposed to just creep through?"

"Well, yes, unless you want to plan another route," Slade said. "But I cannot assure you that there won't be any other spiders that way either. Besides, they are only spiders. I promise you, that nothing inside is lethal."

'Pfft, that is so reassuring. Thank you, Slade, for making my day,' Robin thought bitterly.

Robin did not like the thought of creeping trough spiderwebs because then he'd probably get his face covered by the sticky thread and those little nuisances would creep all over him. Well, maybe if he really was so close to being out of there, maybe he could risk it just this once.

After one last reassuring breath, Robin started to creep onwards, trying to break the webs with his hands before they hit his face. He wasn't scared of spiders, he just didn't like the thought of being in a small vent with thousands of them. There was absolutely no way he could squash them all. Robin tried to creep past them as fast as possible, praising his luck as the next turn was going up. Now he didn't have to worry about maneuvering around and getting spiders on his head. Some of the tough, little creepers were still after him, but most had stayed in their home vent, leaving the chase for the others.

'Finally, the last turn!'

Robin made a smooth twist as he stuffed himself to the left, now on the last straight. His eyes widened slightly.

"Slade, what the hell is this?" Robin yelled when he saw the huge, fan-like thing, slowly turning around on its axle.

Robin could now hear the rusty clonking voice as the fan turned, making the air gust lazily.

"It's the fan, Robin. It keeps the air moving."

"I can see that, but how am I going to get past it?"

"Either you circle it, choose another route, or, if it's big enough, creep past it, avoiding the blade of course."

Well there was no way in hell to get past it. There was no room between the blades to creep through. Besides, the blades moved too fast and there was just no chance Robin could make it in time. Was there anyway to get around it? Taking the map from his belt pocket, the teen planned his route. Damn, the exit was right after this goddamn fan. Well, at least he didn't need to creep through that spider-inhabited vent again.

When Robin was finally only meters away from the exit, he was so grateful that he would praise whatever God he wanted for this. The experience sure did him wonders. If he ever got back to his friends, he needed to make some serious alterations to his suit. There was no way someone could travel in small vents wearing that traffic light-colored costume. He would scratch himself on the walls, make himself bleed, the loose outfit and cape would get stuck, and he could only hope that it would tear so he could struggle free. Was there any suit more impractical than his Robin outfit? Starfire would love to help him prepare a new one, that was for sure.

Robin had once again turned himself around to travel legs first and he was really glad that he had when he noted that the exit was way easier to open by just kicking the whole lid off its hinges.

When the cold air hit Robin's skin and the fresh air filled his lungs, he noticed how horrible the conditions were that he had been working with. The vents had been hot, the air was almost polluted by those corpses, and he was surprised he could still stay conscious. The air inside had been very poor quality. Robin noticed that the vent was about one meter from the ground, so he had to twist his back to arch so he could plant his feet firmly on the floor. Oh how he had missed land.

Robin's muscles were now stiff, slightly sore, and his back was killing him. Well, after laying around and creeping in tight tunnels, one's muscles were bound to get a little bit stiff. Arching his back, he made it crack, potentially taking some of the stiffness away. Then, he performed some stretches and small exercises, just to get his muscles in a better range of movement and get the blood going. After touching the floor with his palms, Robin looked up and saw a table with a glass full of cold water and ice cubes in it a few feet from him. Picking it up, he drank it all in large gulps, letting the liquid wash over his mouth, taking away the dryness.

"Congratulations Robin, I really did not think you'd make it." Robin turned around. "Especially not on the first try," Slade said with a serious tone.

He somehow managed to expose the epic "I told you so" scene in there without even trying.

"Well, I did it. So what now? The simulator? Something fun?"

Robin could not hide the relief from his voice. He had really started to think that he would not get out or away from the vents. In the end, however, he was able to do it. He had been able to creep through the maze. And now that he examined the vents again, he felt slightly amazed. Robin had really just crept through a maze that small? If he hadn't overcome his fear of small spaces, then he never would have.

"Well, if you really are up to it, we might," Slade said. "I have planned a good simulator program to run for you."

Robin started to like these exercises Slade had set for him. They were much more colorful than the ones he did at the tower. Of course, there would need to be many improvements for Slade to lift his training sessions to the level, or even past, that he had with his friends. The villain had fairly lethal ways to make him learn, but somehow they seemed to work for the best. They made Robin wonder what was with him. Was Slade trying to break him by slowly making his visions of the world crash? Would he try to forcefully modify Robin so that he wouldn't even notice it himself? Or was he just trying to show that he wasn't that different after all and that even he could become one like Slade? Somehow the teen got that idea from the last option, but it wouldn't come true. He was the hero. Heroes had nothing in common with the villains and Robin would never, in any circumstances, become one. Robin had stern beliefs and he wasn't one to bend easily. Even Slade would have to learn that.

"Okay, so let's go then. The sooner it's done, the sooner you can get out of my sight," Robin said, hearing a disagreeing voice from Slade. He now stood next to Robin, looking at him with what he thought was a mocking look, but he didn't really see it because of the mask. He looked over and noticed something familiar. "Is that the same exit?"

Robin pointed to the door they had entered the hall from.

"That's the exit, yes," Slade said with a nod. Robin was about to climb over the vents blocking his way and get out from the room as fast as he could, but the man grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. "But try to see it from the eyes of the villain. You were able to get yourself through the vents and get the thing you were looking for. But you can't get caught can you? So, you will have to get out the same way you got in." Slade stuffed Robin back into the vent before he could react. As he was about to yell at the bastard to stop joking and let him go, Slade waved his hand as in good-bye and said, "Ta-ta Robin; take care. I'm off to have a cup of coffee."

And with that, the lid of the vent was shut and the darkness fell around Robin, consuming him. The only sound he could hear was of Slade's retiring steps. The boy had a good feeling an evil smirk was behind that annoying mask when he continued to yell at him. Once there was no sound left, Robin sighed heavily and made his way back out.
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