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Secrets	By : AcomicComic Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Slash - Male/Male > Robin/Slade Views: 3726 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor the characters in it. I do not make any profits from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 1-Secrets
- 2-Alone
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- 2
                This shit again. There was absolutely no way Robin was going to let this happen again, but it did. Slade’s got Him under his heel with a secret that could ruin him. He wants so badly to turn to his friends for help, but if he let one word slip about the blackmail . . . about how he’s trapped, they’ll know. No one can no, not them, not Bruce—Bruce . . . he would kill him if he found out. This would ruin his image. Everything he did after this got out would be the subject of public scrutiny. Oh no, oh geez . . . oh shit, Batman. He thought He had a lid on it. He thought no one else knew, but somehow Slade found out.
                He’s going to meet him tonight at the vacant lot on 26^th. Slade says that’s where they’ll begin training. Robin’s stomach sunk at the thought of Slade forcing him to be dishonest. He already has enough secrets, a secret identity, a secret batcave, a secret—the secret, only Slade and he know, and now he has to keep his servitude a secret. Servitude? Perhaps Slavery is a better word. Whatever Slade’s planning, he wants no part in it. Whatever Slade wants to make him do . . . he’ll find some way to stop him without anyone learning the truth. “If I have to vomit out the word ‘master’ one more time, I’ll claw my own throat out,” he thought to himself. Only yesterday Slade enslaved him with that threat, and he’s already calling him at a whim to meet with him. Robin half-expected Slade to ask for him to pick up some coffee on the way, oh and don’t forget the sugar.
                Robin washed up and removed his uniform, all but the mask, which he shielded under a grey hoodie. There was no way he was going to let himself be seen there. He also wore some faded jeans that barely still fit him, and a pair of sneakers. It was a long time since he’d ever actually worn civilian clothes. He was always in a suit or tuxedo or a school uniform. Bruce sent him to private school back when he was in Gotham, one of the top schools in the country, thanks to Bruce’s funding. Robin paused for a minute, wondering if he should’ve ever left. No, it was a good thing he left. He might’ve left his education unfinished, and left behind Bruce and Alfred, but that’s why he left. He needed to make an identity for himself. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t let himself become Batman.
                Robin arrived at 3:42 AM and began his descent in the elevator. His communicator buzzed with static before he heard a little voice “Level 16, Robin.” He recognized the dark ominous murmuring of Slade’s poisoned tongue anywhere. He took a look around the elevator until he spotted a camera in the corner. He pressed the button 16 and waited, not removing his loathing-filled eyes from the camera. He might have to follow Slade’s orders, but he doesn’t have to like it. The elevator doors opened and he found himself filled with rage. The sight of a mere silhouette was enough to make his ears steam.
                “you’re late,” Slade reprimanded, his back still turned toward him. Slade appeared to be fiddling with something on his metal desk.

                “I arrived on time,” he smirked defiantly, “You didn’t say I had to be in the building on time, just that I had to be here.”
                “From now on, I expect you in the building on time. Punctuality is important, Robin. Every minute you’re late is a demonstration of how important the appointment you’ve made is to you, and how much respect you have for the party you’ve kept waiting. I never want to see you here late again, is that understood?”
                Robin stood silent for a moment, “yes.”
                “Yes, what?”
                Robin nearly gagged, “yes, master.” Slade could see the rage and frustration in the teen’s eyes. Robin had no desire to be here, no desire to be Slade’s apprentice, no desire to listen to his orders. The first chance he got, he was going to stop him . . . somehow he would stop him. He would not be bullied by some creep in a metal mask.
                “Come now Robin, chin up,” Slade walked past him, something in his voice saying he was hiding a smirk of delight beneath that metal mask, “we’re just training tonight, that’s all. It’s not as if I’ve asked you to kill anyone . . . You wouldn’t be ready for it,” a less than comforting statement.
                After a few minutes of “catching up,” Slade and Robin began training. Slade was appalled by Robin’s physical condition, the way he’d let his muscles soften while Slade had been away. He did not look like a fitting apprentice, and that had to be fixed. Robin didn’t exactly care for the intensity of the workout. He could barely stand half way through, and yet Slade continued to push him. Slade never hit him when he was down, but to keep him on his toes, he would bring him to his knees. Robin would later admit that he had let himself get a little softer while Slade was away. As much as it pains him to admit it, Slade made him stronger just as an opposition, but even more so as a master. On top of the months of an absent rival, Robin was also slow to develop. He only recently started puberty and so his features were still very boyish. Not only was he not as strong as any other normal fifteen year old, but he was short for his age, barely over five feet. He wasn’t worried though, because his father was tall, and sprung right up near the end of his teenage years.
                “I expect you to continue training on your own with the techniques I taught you until I call you again,” Slade muttered softly to the gasping teen kneeling at his feet, “and I also suggest a proper diet, no more sodas, no more junk food.” Slade leaned down and lifted his chin, “And, Robin,” he paused to make sure Robin looked him in the eye, “remember, one word, and everyone will know you’re a homosexual.” With that, he was dismissed.
                Robin sat on his bed, fatigued to the point of exhaustion. He could feel tears welling up in his masked eyes, causing the whites of the mask to fog up. He removed his mask for a brief moment to clean them and to undress for a shower. His clothes were soaked in sweat. The dulling effects of the cold water numbed the aching in his muscles long enough for him to think about his situation, perhaps even start to formulate a plan. It didn’t get him far. At least for now, there was no escape.
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Secrets