AN: Do you think I own TT and DP? Well if you do…ah well! For any readers who are curious about "Concerning Halfa's", please note that the story is on hold till I can find proper inspiration for it. Thank you and enjoy the story. PS: I appreciate when people review. I like it when people flame, or praise, but especially when people critique. All other stories of mine are on hold…cause they all suck! Thoughts are in italics, eh, I know you will figure it out!

Slade looked at the report for the umpteenth time. He still was unable to face the fact. He was going to die.

The Slade felt uncomfortable without his armor. He felt…weak without it. But there was little time to settle his thoughts on his appearance. Slade's appearance had changed many times over his criminal career. He had many faces and many aliases. He had once been a petty criminal, than a criminal ring leader, and finally a master manipulator of the law and the criminal world alike. But now, all that was coming to an end.

Few knew, and fewer knew the exact number, but Slade was an aged man. Over decades of his criminal career he had seen it all, from the gangsters of the Prohibition era, the mob leaders of the early 50's, the drug cartels that had come to fore by the 70's, and the superheroes and villains that had arisen in the past three decades. Without doubt, Slade knew more about the criminal world than most experts because he had lived through it all.

The cough welled up from the back of his throat as it came to, seizing Slade with intense pain as his entire body heaved. It reminded Slade of his mortality. Despite all the attempts Slade had done to lengthen his life, all the diets and long exercises, all the various cures whether supernatural or not, Slade was finally succumbing to death.

Slade looked at the report closely. "brain cancer, never thought I would die this way, some have said that for those who live by the sword they die by the sword, I guess I cheated that"

The walls of the small room were adorned with photos. A few were of allies and criminals of days past, but most were of Robin, the successor that Slade never had.

Slade clenched his fists as he stared at a photo of Robin with his 4 other friends at Titan tower. The photo had been taken secretly, but it looked like the picture was posed.

Robin stood, teeth gleaming in a mirthful grin, as he had his arm over Cyborg's shoulder, his eyes glancing with more than just affection at Starfire, and his entire expression one of happy-go-lucky. Slade growled as glowered at the photo, mind burning with anger, despise, and jealousy at the peace that Robin was radiating in the photo. "Well well Robin, I guess you won after all, you and your ways of good that never did more than raise your self esteem. You were a thorn in my side, a miserable person who strove for the happiness of the people, for joy that is as worthless as you are."