Warning. The author does not accept responsibility for any of the following:
Death, tears, even more tears, sobs, too much ANGST for your puny emotions, I like how Angst suddenly capitalized itself, irrational fear, hatred for Deathstroke, hatred for Slade, regret, sorrow, even more tears, fluffy angst, murder attempts, assasination attempts and/or the chucking of cars/buses/sticks/metal/items over 1kg/items under 1kg/items exactly 1kg/bombs/items over 50kg, sudden deaths, riots, destruction of cities/towns, the burning of DC, and finally; your wishes to murder me.
I accept responsibility for none of these things that will probably be aimed at me.  
I'VE HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

^-^ 

Note to self to delete later: Myocardial Rupture

...I honestly don't understand why you even bother coming back, to be honest.

~Chapter 22~ ;")

The door opened quietly and Dick sent a sideway glance to the door as he nibbled on the chocolate bar he was currently eating. Jason didn't even bother looking at the door, already knowing what Batman had come to do. He frowned. Already? 

"Robin," Batman stated, gaining said boy's attention. "We need to talk," He finished. Dick immediately felt his guard skyrocket up, his eyes going dull on instinct as he blocked anyone from being able to tell what he was thinking. His mind rushed at a million miles per hour as his mind began to analyse the situation and come up with various useful excuses and he switched to Robin. Batman frowned as he noticed the immediate change and reaction to his words.

"Don't put your guard up around us, kid," Jason muttered, his hair falling into his eyes and blocking them from sight. Huffing, he pushed his bangs from his eyes, staring up at Robin with a determined but fierce gaze. Batman stepped closer to the two, not wanting to waste time and quite frankly, just wanted to get it over with. He was well aware that he would not like the results - no one would, but if it had to happen. Tim and Damian slipped through the door quietly, but Batman ignored them, as he knew he wouldn't be able to get rid of them.

"Robin," Batman started, taking a deep breath. "Please take off your shirt. We need to assess any damage to your body during your time with Deathstroke."

Robin stared at him, eyes still terribly dull but his eyes were calculating - his mind calculating every possible move and reaction and how he could react to everything. His mind formulated the lies, the deceits - how to give the truth but to still lie. He couldn't tell Batman everything. He didn't need to know, he may think he needs to know but he doesn't need to know everything. That's right; he doesn't. 

'You'll never escape your chains. Not as long as they're constantly attached to you, refusing to let go and constantly keeping you near.'

Robin's eyes dulled even more as the same familiar words rang in his head, deceiving and breaking his already shattered mind.

'The more they're made to worry about you, the more they'll think you can't fight yourself - that you need to be constantly protected by them. Keep your guard up, Renegade. You're nothing but a helpless little kid in their eyes but we both know what you are and what you've done.'

"Why do I need to take my shirt off? I don't have any injuries right now," Robin attempted, looking Batman in the eye. He didn't need to give Batman a reason to keep him close, to keep him chained down...

"Robin, even if that is the case, we... I, need to know what you've been through as your guardian. It's my job to protect you and I won't be able to help you if you don't let me in," Batman spoke back, his voice soft as he tried to persuade Robin. Except, is words weren't helping the situation in the slightest.

"You don't need to know," Robin repeated, absolutely refusing to back down. There was a clatter beside him as Jason jumped up and grabbed Robin from the front of his shirt, lifting his body from the bed slightly as he glared daggers at his little brother. Robin stared back, his mind still calculating everything. A growl of anger escaped Jason before he quickly - harshly and forcefully - yanked Robin's shirt over his head, revealing his scars.

Tim had to leave the room. 

The door clicked shut, but the sound of a sob was still noticeable through the door as Tim rushed away. Jason stepped back, Robin's shirt slipping from his hands as it became a disregarded item on the floor. Both Batman and Damian froze, their figures stiff and eyes filled with disbelief. Scars upon scars littered Robin's chest, covering up the majority of it. Flesh wounds ranging from small to big - scorch marks? His skin had been burnt? Perhaps what was the most disturbing thing of all was the large X mark across his skin, covering up half of his chest, blocking out any of the other smaller scars. 

Several smaller, but just as nasty scars had been placed over his heart, as if he had had multiple injuries there - as if someone had purposely been attempting to reach his hard. While Batman's and Damian's attention had been glued to his chest alone, Jason, who was still at his side focused on his arm. As clear as day, carved - burnt, molded, - into his skin was a scar that would never fade. Upon Robin's forearm, carved straight into the skin like a tattoo was a large 'S.'

Jason stepped forward, grabbing Robin by the elbow and pulling his arm towards him. He stared at the mark in disbelief. Robin watched as Jason's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. After a few tries of nothing coming out, Jason placed his other hand on his shoulder before pushing Robin forward. He stared at Robin's back with disbelieving eyes. 

"When I get my hands on fucking Deathstroke, I swear I'm going to fucking rip that bastard in fucking pieces! I fucking swear it!" Jason roared, his grip on Robin increasing in strength due to his rage. Robin winced, hissing through his teeth.

"Jason," Batman spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. Jason's rage filled eyes darted towards him.

"What?" He growled.

"You're hurting him," Batman stated. At this, Jason's eyes widened and his grip loosened as he turned back to face Robin whose face had calmed slightly. He took a couple of calming breaths because speaking again.

"What did he do to you?" Jason whispered.

"Lots of things, but I'd rather not speak about it. Now yet." Robin said. Batman sighed, walking up to the bed. Jason backed away, allowing Batman to take his place.

"I'll need you to answer some questions. Answer what you can," Batman stated, oddly soft. Robin nodded, complying. "We only have theories so far, so I'll need you to confirm or deny what we have," Batman continued. Robin nodded again, preparing himself.

"What did Deathstroke want you for?"

"He needed an apprentice and I was the best candidate," Robin answered immediately, not even affected by the question. He was used to that answer, Slade had purposely called him his apprentice on many occassions in order to make him get used to the concept and come to accept it. While Robin had eventually accepted his twisted fate, it didn't stop the burning flare of anger and hatred that boiled inside him whenever Slade called him such. Both Renegade and Apprentice became words he was used to it, but that didn't change how he felt about such words.

"What did he teach you?" Robin's fists clenched, his teeth grinding against his teeth. He didn't want to say things he had learned - the things he had done through those things, but it was something he was able to answer. Just barely. He could force himself through this question.

"There was a lot of things, but the more common was more acrobatics and assassination," Robin ground out. "How to remain quiet, how to kill, how to neutralize, stuff like that..." Slade had honed his skills to become even better than they already were - obviously. Robin had always thought he had done a good job when sneaking around and keeping his presence hidden, but Slade had shown him a whole new level, shown him how much he had to go, how much further he could go.

Robin wasn't strong enough to resist the temptation. He wanted to be as good as Damian and Batman. He wanted to be as strong as them, to be able to keep up with them, without slowing them down or being a burden. So he had accepted that part of the training without struggling, without refusing. He had listened intently to those parts of the training. Robin had eventually found that he had accepted a few of Slade's training reigime, wanting to learn more. He couldn't help it.

There were times where Robin had actually wanted to learn some of the things Slade taught him, things that Batman refused to teach him because he wasn't ready or too young. Slade never really cared about that and in training, never once treated him like a little kid. The man didn't know how to pull his punches, and sometimes, Robin hated it, he couldn't stand it, and other times, he was oddly grateful. He had scolded himself for that. He shouldn't have been interested in any of Slade training and he shouldn't have been grateful to Slade at times either. It was despicable, yet, he couldn't help it. He had wanted ot learn those things for so long, but no one had been willing to teach.

"Wait until you're older." They had always said. It had frustrated Robin so much, because, did they intend to still be training him when he was basically 20? That wouldn't do. How old did he have to be? It wasn't fair.

He wanted to become stronger and Slade had offered him that chance, so like an idiot, he had accepted it. Not all of it, like learning how to kill, but everything else he had indulgued in. Like a fool, he had truly believed it deep down. He didn't want pity, he just wanted to become stronger. That's what Slade had offered him, so that's what he took.

A chance to become strong enough to protect those around him.

"How far did you get in your training?" Batman asked.

"Pretty far."

"Can you give me a rough estimate?" Batman urged, wanting to know more. Batman blinked and Robin disappeared from his line of vision. He reeled back slightly, surprised, staring at the bed where Robin once sat. Not even a full second later, someone tapped his shoulder. Batman span around on cue, to see Robin behind him, face eerily blank and eyes unreadable. Every eye in the room widened, surprised by Robin's speed. Damian stepped forward, a shocked look also on his face, recoginising what Robin had done. Robin disappeared before Batman's eyes once more. Batman turned around, looking once more to the bed and sure enough, Robin was calmly sitting in the space he earlier occupied, the sheet covering his legs. It didn't even look as though he had moved at all.

Jason stood next to Damian, a 'what the fuck just happened' look adorning his face. He had blinked, and Robin was suddenly on the other side of Batman, then he blinked again, and Robin was back in his position. Had he imagined it? His eyes scanned both Batman's and Damian's faces and he confirmed that no, he had not been imagining it. Either Robin had teleportation now or he had moved faster than Jason's eyes could see - which had to be very fast.

"What the fuck." Jason blurted.

~~~

I-iiiii. Literally can't do anymore, I'm crying. Why is this so hard why is there so much writers block i cant even this bullshit has been in my drafts with 1000 words for several months why am i only just finishing why is it so hard why did i end it there, oh god kill me this is so haRDDDD.

...Uh. Anyways. Part of my inspiritation to update was to get word out.

The COC Is having an event. It's already started so there's about a week left. The winners get to choose from a list of authors to update. I will also be an author and I'm GONNA TRY EVEN HARDER TO UPDATE if i get choosen by someone.

TheCircleOfCrazy

Check the Event book for more details.

Meanwhile..

*Drops dead*

- (Lilly)