'And that's the last of them.' Gordon Neely thought with relief, pressing the enter key of his old black brick of a laptop. The Chief of Police of Jump City was a conservative fellow, and though the only thing working on his old laptop was the document manager and the built in email he refused to upgrade to laptop made within the decade.

He had just finished sending the remaining documents of the quarterly reviews to various supervisors and other officials that were paid more money than him for doing much less work. He chuckled to himself and took a sip of his cold coffee, pursing his lips as he swallowed the bitter liquid. Like every night since the leader of the Teen Titans had been murdered, Gordon Neely was working into the late hours of the night watching the roads from cameras rigged to lamp posts, old security videos, rare interviews of the Titans, news segments from local and national channels, anything that would give him any hint about who would want to kill the young superhero. And, like every night since the young Titan was murdered, Neely drew up virtually nothing.

"Well Fran," Neely touched the frame holding a picture of his deceased wife gently, "Time to pack up," He heaved a great sigh and blinked away the small tears he always acquired when he thought of Fran. The two had been high school sweethearts and had gone to the same community college just outside of Jump City. He had asked her to marry him seven years ago, and those precious years had been the happiest of his life. Neely had thrived off of Fran's sunny disposition; she had taught him how to laugh and how to love. She taught him how to see colors and how to appreciate the sounds of traffic in the city. When they were together it always seemed as if they were three steps ahead of everything. Then of course, fate sprang up from behind and bit them from behind.

Fran had grown up with epilepsy. The seizures happened sporadically, with no clue of when they would hit. By the time Fran was twenty five, the seizures had begun to happen much more often, and much, much more worse. One late rainy day, when the two were settling down together on the couch to watch a movie, each with a slice of pizza in hand, Fran had a seizure. Neely called their neighbor, who was luckily a surgeon, and he came running over to help Neely get Fran to the hospital. By the time the ambulance came Fran had gone into shock. Like every time she had a seizure, Neely was sent into the hospitals waiting room and prayed. It was all he could do, beside counting the seconds and minutes that passed.

The doctor came out around ten thirty, and Neely jumped up and bounded over to him, desperation clear in his eyes. The doctor, Brett Gargon, walked forward with composure, though his movements were tired and strained. A somber look covered his face, and his eyes were watery, almost as if he were about to break down in tears himself. Neely felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"How bad?" Was all he could muster.

Dr. Gargon sighed. "Bad. This one was…bad. She has permanent brain and heart damage, and the next time she has a seizure again, she might not make it. She's lost her memory, too, Gordon. I'm sorry. I knew Fran when she was little. We grew up in the same town just outside of here and…" He trailed off helplessly. Neely felt the world crash in on him like a tsunami. Brain damage, heart damage, and now she wouldn't be able to remember anything?

Neely pressed past the doctor and felt his feet carry him to his wife's room. He turned the corner, and the sight made his heart stop.

Fran was sleeping now, all the color gone from her face. Her left arm was stretched out, hooked to an intravenous. Neely covered his mouth with his hand, stifling the cries of sorrow he was now bombarded with from just seeing his wife so helpless and so fragile. She stirred and her eyes fluttered open. A look of innocent curiosity spread across her face.

"Who are you?"

…Fran died three weeks later from another seizure.

That was five years ago, Neely thought, shaking his thinning hair. She would want me to move on now. He thought to himself as he closed his laptop and thrust it in his bag. Neely stood up, went to the door, and flipped the switch, turning all the lights off except for the fluorescents in the back side of the room.

Time to go home.

He fumbled with the keys, opened the door, and turned to lock it when he heard the faint thump thump of footsteps. His body tensed, suddenly alert. That was definitely the sound of footsteps, but how could that be? He was the only one in the building.

He turned away from the door and tried to peer through the faint, pale lighting from the overhead lights.

"Who's there?" He called, feeling rather silly. Of course no one was there. Of course it wasn't any one who would harm him or want to steal from here. All they would find is paperwork and a crusty middle-aged man. It's not as if they were hiding gold in the file cabinets.

The thumping grew stronger. Neely reached for the holster hitched to his belt loop, and drew his weapon. It wasn't loaded, but who ever was with him didn't know that.

The thump sounds became more rhythmic now. Neely turned to his left, then to his right, which held two long hallways, one leading to the basement, the other to the rest rooms, and found no one there. Before he could turn forward again, the gun was knocked out of his hand.

"Aaah!" He drew back sharply, only to hit hid head hard against the door behind him. His knees buckled and his body sagged a bit. He placed a hand to the back of his head.

The shadow dropped down in front of him, as if he had materialized from the ceiling. He was clad in a black jumpsuit with plates of steel armor covering his forearms, upper arms, shins, and thighs. A thin plate of the same metal covered his collar bone, and in the center of the plate was a familiar looking S. Gordon Neely looked up to his attacker, and found himself looking into a mask, tinged with red. He knew that boy.

"You-you're Robin! You're that dead Titan!" Neely called out in spite of his shock. Robin threw back his head and laughed.

"That name, that past no longer applies to me. But sure, I'm Robin." He kicked Neely in the chest, cracking a few ribs in the process.

Neely looked up at his attacker, too shocked to believe what he was witnessing. "What do you want from me?"

Robin knelt down, eye to eye with the Chief of Jump City Police. "You dead." He said slowly. The look of terror on Neely's eyes made Robin laugh. This was going to be fun after all.

Neely began to put on the tactic he had learned in his early police schooling. Ask questions. Learn from you attacker. Buy yourself some time because every second counts.

"What do you have to gain from killing me?" He asked, his breath slowly coming back to him.

Robin laughed. "You really are slow, aren't you? It's because you're the Chief of Police. Shouldn't that be enough for you? With you out of the way, the city will be in shambles. That will lead a clear path to my Masters goal." As he spoke, Robin stood and retrieved a small device from his utility belt. He placed it on his arm and clicked it into place. It powered up with a slight whine and the former hero aimed it at Neely's head.

'I'm coming, Fran.' Were Gordon Neely's last thoughts before Robin shot the blaster through the Chief's head. It was the first time the former hero had ever shed innocent blood.

"Robin!" A loud, bloodcurdling scream resonated through the hallway. The said villain turned sharply to find his former team facing him, each with betrayal and shock carved mercilessly into their faces.

Confusion began to bombard Robin's thoughts. At first he began to feel his mind go fuzzy, like it was when he was first reborn. Then memories of his past life, one that he didn't recognize at all, one that he didn't care for at all, began to appear. Him and the alien in the purple sitting on top of a roof, talking; Him and the one clad in a dark purple cloak meditating to a rising sun; Him and the green boy playing video games on a leather couch; and him and the mechanical looking one sparring on the top of what seemed to be a tall building. All the memories began to flood in, all meshing together until they were all stopped short by the face of his Master, Slade.

Focus, Robin. I gave you mental freedom for this mission. You have to focus. These fools saw you kill Neely. They won't turn you in yet, Robin. Flee for now. Attack later.

Robin nodded, blinking a few times. He faced his team, a small grin on his face.

"Robin? That cannot be you." The alien drew forward, but the cloaked one, the one with the paper skin and dark eyes, grabbed the girl before she could draw forward.

"That can't be him." The green one shook his head. "Maybe it's a villain trying to disguise himself as Robin to trick us?" He turned to the mechanical human, who shook his head. Robin felt himself reveling in their confusion and misery.

The taller redhead released herself from the cloaked girl. She took a single step forward. Tears shone in her eyes. "You cannot be Robin. Robin is dead!" She tossed her hand out to the side, and a small glow began to form around it. Robin felt himself tensing, though he wasn't sure why. These fools weren't a challenge for him.

…

Raven knew it. He wasn't really dead. This was Robin, right in front of her. Her former leader was alive, and as far as Raven could tell, he was brainwashed.

Raven didn't want to set Starfire off, but she knew that she had to bring it to her team's attention. She inhaled deeply. Now or never…

"Starfire, maybe Robin never really died. Slade's tricked us, again."

…

Robin felt his smile broaden when the cloaked girl dared to say the name of his Master.

"No." The girl supposedly named Starfire shook her head. "No! This cannot be! Robin would never go back to Slade, never! Robin would never kill." She raised her head, her eyes glowing emerald. She shot a barrage of starbolts at Robin, who dodged them with ease. He leapt into the air, spun in an airborne summersault before landing behind the Titans, his back to them. They turned, their shock gone replaced instead by anger and betrayal. He turned to face them, and shot three short spurts of the blaster at their feet before fleeing. When the dust and debris cleared, Robin was gone.

The body of Gordon Neely poured blood.

......

Starfire was laying on top of her bed, staring into darkness, her body too numb to do anything.

Although she didn't want to believe it, a tiny voice knew inside of her that that was the real Robin.

No, that was not the real Robin. That Robin killed, and the deceased Robin would never kill.

She closed he eyes, trying to focus on the new Robin's face. The new Robin had hard lines around his cheekbones. The new Robin's mask was tilted upwards at the corner. That Robin's eyes glowed red, hungry for blood. Starfire shivered. She could still feel those red eyes piercing through her body.

"Dear Robin, I do hope that was not really you."

…

Cyborg was analyzing his built in scanner. Every time he reconstructed the data he had automatically extracted from that…clone?... it turned out to be a perfect match. There was no way to avoid it. Cyborg's scanners never lied. That was Robin. The Robin.

He slammed his head against the metal door of his room. Robin was really gone. His scanners said that the only memories he had were from the previous week. He had connections to the Titans no longer.

Cyborg swore under his breath. Why hadn't they believed Robin when he told them Slade was back? Why hadn't they gotten to Robin sooner that fateful day Slade "killed" him? Why hadn't he stopped Robin that night on the roof? Why wasn't Robin strong enough to overcome Slade?

A tear trickled down his one human eye. He knew it and there was no point in avoiding it any longer.

Robin was an enemy now, and he was one ready to kill.

…

Raven was searching for the answer in her books again. She knew the murderer they had encountered in the Police HQ was Robin, that much she was sure about. But part of his aura was…changed. Evil tinged it, leaving a bad taste in Raven's mouth. She swallowed absentmindedly.

His mind, Raven had sensed, was strangely present, and yet fuzzy around the edges. Clearly mind control, but at the same time… Raven knew she would have to look up a prognosis in her books before coming to any conclusions.

Her door whooshed open, and Beast Boy came up to sit by her on her bed.

"What do you want?" She asked dryly.

"Cyborg and Star locked themselves in their room." He said simply. Raven looked at him, her eyes judging. Was Beast Boy frightened to be alone?

"I'm sorta scared, Rae." He admitted, avoiding her eyes. "I could tell it was Robin. It just…felt like we were a team again, even though he was on the opposite side." He looked up at her, only to find she wasn't looking at him. Rather, her eyes were skimming through the large book propped in her lap.

"Are you even listening?" Beast Boy cried. Raven nodded, sighed, and then looked up at her companion.

"Beast Boy, I know this is going to be hard to hear, but you have to give them, and me for that matter, some time. This was a big blow to us. I don't know if Robin really is dead or if he's under Slade's control or if he's killing by his own free will while being apprenticed by Slade at the same time...or…" She heaved another great sigh, " Just leave Star and Cy alone, and leave me alone too." With that, she turned back to her book, her eyes glowing silver as she began to mutter to herself.

Beast Boy huffed and left. "Stupid Raven." He complained once he got to the living room. The silence weighed down on the animal shape shifter. He went to the refrigerator to grab a glass of water to help ease an ache forming around his temples. A picture of all the Titans in front of the T Car was taped to the refrigerator. Robin was in the center, with the girls on either side. Beast Boy was sitting on the roof of the car, and Cyborg was turned, caught in the middle of yelling at his friend to watch the wax job that had been placed on the previous day.

"You're the leader, Robin. You would know what to do."

……

"You did well today Robin. You've proved your loyalty to me."

Robin was knelt at Slade's feet, head bowed down, his eyes unseeing beyond his mask.

"I was tracking your chemical composure in your body while you were on the mission. You got that old thrill again, when you were fighting them, didn't you? You got a thrill when you were killing that man."

Robin smirked. He stood up and faced his Master, red eyes glowing brightly.

"We will attack them together as one to bring an end to their reign, Robin, but not now. That part comes later. I have a new mission for you. One that I think you are going to quite enjoy." Slade turned, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Anything you say, Master." He said earnestly.

Slade chuckled. A small wind swept through the broken windows of the molasses warehouse. "Robin, tomorrow I'm going to have you to attack Titan Tower and kill one of your own. Do you think you can handle it?" He turned to face his apprentice again.

Robin nodded. "Of course."

A/N

Okay first thank you sooooooooooooooo much to Claire4522 for basically telling me where to go with this chapter!

And thank you for the reviews guys!

Sorry I'm a day later than promised guys! I truly feel bad about it! But this chapter is a nice length, so I guess it cancels each other out? No? Yes? Anyway

I told you the fourth chapter would be more suspenseful! And it's clearly going to get more so with the fifth coming up. I feel some parts are a little emotionless, but that's just me.

Ooo I have a question for you guys. I'm obviously a newbee, and I was wondering what it meant when it said on the document manager tab when the documents had like 54 days to live or something along those lines.

Some one asked me about the red eyes, and if you were wondering the same thing here's the answer: it's just to show how he's crossed over. The brightness or hue (dark red, bright red) reflects his mood.

How about five reviews??? Please??? hope to hear from you!

-Indy, xsouthernwatersx