Disclaimer: I don't and sadly never will own the Teen Titans..

A/N: This has been sitting on my computer for a while and I finally finished it this weekend! I may expand it later...the ending turned out different than I originally expected! Let me know what you think!

Enemies in Disguise

Richard Grayson was pissed.

The boy felt the scrutinizing eyes roll over his shabby appearance and let out a long, annoyed sigh. It wasn't his fault that he had shoved his suit in the corner of his closet at the Tower….he hadn't exactly expected to need it. He ran his hands over the numerous crinkles and creases in the dark material in a futile attempt to hide them from the omnipotent set of eyes in front of him.

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

No such luck then.

Light poured in through the deceptively strong, bullet-proof windows and illuminated the space in a warm glow. Richard's bright, blue eyes flickered around the office, and the boy scowled at its inhumane cleanliness. The tall bookcases that lined the walls lacked even the smallest speck of dust, and the pair of leather chairs in the room were in pristine condition without so much as a tear or missing stitch. And the desk…Bruce's desk looked like something out of a catalog. All of the papers were stacked neatly. All the pens were grouped together by color. All the paperclips had their own designated jar.

Richard snorted.

It certainly wasn't like his desk back at the Tower. The boy rubbed his un-masked eyes and wished for the millionth time this day that he was in his uniform. Being Robin, The Boy Wonder, was so much easier than being Richard Grayson, son of millionaire Bruce Wayne…

Speaking of Bruce…

The man was not happy.

"Who attacked you on the way over here?" the man asked. Sarcasm dripped from his voice and pooled in puddles around Richard's feet.

The boy crossed his arms and scowled.

"I haven't seen you in a year and that's the first thing you have to say to me?" Richard said while glaring at the man before him.

"Three hundred and sixty-five days and you would think that you would have figured out how to iron a suit by now, Richard," Bruce said. The man held the boy under his scrutinizing gaze and leaned back in his chair. Light danced around his bulky frame and his crisp, clean, gray suit. It effortlessly hugged the man's frame and was wrinkle, crease, and crumple free - the exact opposite of Richard's suit.

Upon noticing this, the boy's eyes traveled down to his suit and scowled. His tie had been hastily done and the knot looked like someone had almost tried to choke him with it. A button on his shirt had popped off and his jacket had more lines and creases in it than he could count. The boy looked up and met Bruce's amused green eyes.

"Not exactly in my crime fighting description."

Bruce shook his head and stood up. His towering height made Richard cringe and take a reflexive step back. He was so similar…so similar to Slade. The height. The statue. The imposing presence. The scrutinizing glare. Richard lowered his eyes to the floor as his mind became overwhelmed by the masked man's presence. The haunting black and orange mask expanded in his mind and loomed over his shoulder like a shadow. Even in Gotham city, Slade still haunted his steps.

A hand fell on his shoulder and clouded blue eyes met worried green eyes. Bruce squeezed the younger boy's shoulder and soft words reached Richard's ears.

"Dick, are you okay?"

The boy's blue eyes cleared and immediately hardened.

"I'm fine, Bruce. I always have been," Richard snapped, tensing under the soft hand. His words cut through the air with a hard edge. However beneath them rested layers and layers of pain and grief that stood between the pair.

The hand on his shoulder slackened and slid down his arm. The man in front of him let out a heavy sigh. He ran a weathered hand through his mid-night colored hair and glanced away from the boy in front of him. Emotions flickered across his face as he gathered himself. Bruce looked back at him and plastered on a smile, reaching for the abused, orange tie.

The boy's eyes widened and slammed the older man's hand away.

"My tie is fine!" Richard cried, his defeated pride sifting into his words.

Bruce gave him a long, withered stare and muttered something under his breath. Robin's trained ears only made out one word the man said. Patience…

"It looks like someone strangled you with it, now let me fix it." The words weren't cold but they weren't warm either. However they held a truth that Richard could not deny. His tie…and well pretty much everything else looked terrible.

He sighed and dropped his hands to his side in defeat. Soft hands grabbed the silky material wrapped around the boy's neck and started to unlock the tangled knot.

"So…"

Oh please don't try to start a superficial conversation Bruce, Richard thought while rolling his eyes. We haven't seen each other in a year. We parted on bad terms and nothing has changed. SO don't even try…it's bad enough I have to stand here in humiliation while you fix my freaking, impossible tie…

"…has anything interesting happened in Jump?"

The man's deep voice floated over to him and Richard stubbornly stared at the marble floor. His scuffed shoes dominated his vision as thoughts pounded against his skull.

Besides the fact that an insane psychopath forced me into an apprenticeship…

"I don't know. Why don't you check the cameras you installed in the Tower?" Robin snapped. Venom seethed in his words.

The hand paused briefly in its movements before it continued to untie the persistent knot.

"Contrary to your beliefs, I do not spy on the Tower – "

At the words, Richard rolled his eyes and shifted his feet impatiently.

"That's a load of crap…" the boy muttered under his breath. The man fell silent at the words and smoothed the fabric of the tie. He ran his fingers along the un-knotted material and paused, his hands pressed against the younger boy's chest.

"They were installed for your protection-"

Flames burst into Robin's eyes and he glared up at the man, clenching his fists together.

"You installed them because you still don't trust me!"

The man sighed and dragged a hand down his aged face. Lines were beginning to appear around the corner of his eyes.

"This isn't about trust, Dick," Bruce said while his hand tightened around the boy's tie.

Richard took a harsh step back, and the tie shifted around his neck.

"Then please," the boy shouted while throwing his hands in his air, "What is it about! Please enlighten me, Batman. Enlighten your sidekick because you never bothered to before," Richard spat with distain. The words were like daggers and slid from his mouth with a wicked speed.

Bruce's eyes hardened and his demeanor darkened. He took an intimidating step forward and his presence towered over Richard.

The boy's eyes flashed with fear. The black and orange mask. The trigger. The Titans. Slade's imposing presence looming over his shoulder…

"I treated you as an equal, Dick."

The cold words brought Richard out of his nightmare and back to the present. His anger returned, but it was duller – dimmed. His fears began to creep up on him and chills raced down his back.

Sunlight continued to pour into the room.

"Odd definition of equal, Bruce. I'm not even legally your son! I'm your freaking ward. I'm the ward of Bruce Wayne. I'm the sidekick of Batman." Pain and anger seeped into his voice as a burning sensation filled his eyes.

Richard's eyes flashed up from the ground. He stared at the towering man before him with all of his simmering anger and hate from the past year. Bruce's green eyes looked pained. They swirled with cavernous hurt that was black and empty from years of mistakes.

"You know I consider you as my son, Dick-"

"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU COME AFTER ME!"

Richard screamed the words. He shouted them. He screeched them. They burned his throat. They tasted like fire. They seared his mind. He inhaled a raspy breath and turned away as a single tear slid down his cheek.

Questions that had plagued his mind for the past year flared up.

Where were you when Slade forced me into an apprenticeship?

Where were you when I cried myself to sleep?

Where were you when the nightmares came?

Where were you when I turned against my team?

Where were you…

Silence was like another person in the room. It stood there, untouchable, unbreakable, and burdened with the heavy truth.

"You're not my father," Richard whispered softly. "And I'm not your son…"

The words were like shards of glass in the boy's heart. They tore open an old wound and let loose a sea of emotions. Standing there in the middle of the brightly lit office, Richard had never felt more alone.

His feet clacked on the marble floor with loud ringing thud as he walked to the door. With each step he felt the cavernous valley between him and Bruce grow. He reached the metal door and paused as more unwanted tears slipped down his face.

"Richard…"

That one word was spoken with so much love, so much pain, and so much vulnerability. The boy's hand shook against the cold, metal handle. His breaths were quiet and shallow as he waited. His mind screamed at Bruce. He shrieked at the man.

Tell me to stay. Don't let me leave. Tell me that you love me. Hug me. Do something.

DO ANYTHING.

Instead the emotions vanished from the next words the man spoke.

"One day, Richard. That's all I need. One day. Attend the gala. Make an appearance. And then you'll be off to 'boarding school' for the next four years," Bruce said. His voice was low, steady, and void of all emotion. "I just need you to satisfy the press with a grand story about how you'll be studying abroad. And then you're free to return to the Tower…"

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, and Richard kept his eyes locked on the door in front of him. Tears rolled down to his un-tied tie.

"One day…and you'll never have to see me again…"

Tears.

Words that Richard wanted to say at that moment welled up inside of him.

But I do want to see you…I've missed you…

But they fell on silent lips, and instead Richard slipped quietly out the door. It shut with a deafening thud.

He couldn't stop them. Just as he was powerless to stop Slade, he was powerless to stop the avalanche of tears running down his face.

Richard raced through the lobby, ignoring the strange and concerned looks various secretaries were giving him. The boy reached the elevator and smashed the button with his hand. Water droplets slid down his cheeks and onto his outstretched hand. He hit the button over and over again, feeling the dam of emotions breaking loose. He needed to get out of here. Screw the gala, he couldn't be around Bruce for another second…

The elevator's doors slid open at a snail's pace. Inch by inch the metal gateway opened, revealing an empty elevator. Richard sighed in relief and burst inside. His blurry eyesight made it hard for him to recognize the button for the parking level, but he eventually found it and hurriedly slammed his finger into it. Goal accomplished, he moved to the corner of the small space and sunk to the ground. The doors began to close. Inch by inch, the secretaries' concerned looks faded away. Inch by inch the sunlight was cut off. Inch by inch the man, who had caused him so much pain, disappeared.

Just before the door's closed, a second presence entered. Like a ghost, the person slipped in and the door soundlessly slid shut behind them. Richard let out a muffled swear and buried his head in his knees. Great just great. This person is probably wondering why Richard Grayson is huddled in the corner of an elevator like a lunatic…Wait until the press hear about this….

He heard a dim click as the figure choose a button, and the elevator began to move…up?

Really? Really? Of all the people to get on this blasted elevator, this person just had to go up? There was barely anything above Bruce's office. Just a couple of storage rooms and technical labs…

A harsh jerk knocked Richard out of his position and sent him sprawling on the ground. The plush red carpet conformed to the boy's face and body, making his fall somewhat less uncomfortable. He looked up as an unfamiliar sensation traveled over his body. They weren't moving…they had stopped…

The most foul, terrible, tainted, stained, and vulgar word came to his mind and he released it in an undignified scream.

He did not need this right now. He seriously didn't. Richard's hands clenched around the carpet as hot tears continued to stream down his face. Why? Of all days, why did the elevator decide to break down? The question burned into his mind as he pressed his face into the carpet. Normally he could just bust through the roof of the elevator and escape. He always kept a few bird-a-rangs tucked away in a concealed pocket in his suit. But unfortunately there was another person in the elevator at the moment. So until someone came to 'rescue' them, he was stuck.

"You okay?"

The voice was deep, smooth, and strangely familiar. It echoed across the small space in comforting waves that wrapped around Richard's defeated body. The boy let out a very, long sigh and felt his chest sink into the plush carpet.

"I'm fine," Richard mumbled into the carpet. He didn't want to deal with another human being right now. He didn't even want to deal with himself. He just wanted to lay there and let his issues float away into the soft, welcoming carpet.

"And I'm the King of Gotham," the man scoffed. His voice was laced with a warm amusement and sarcasm, and despite everything - his emotional havoc, his unbearable stress, the problematic elevator - Richard smiled.

"Ahhh so you do have the ability to smile."

The boy shifted his head to the right so that he could examine the man in the elevator. His cheek pressed into the carpet as his eyes traveled up and down the sangfroid man who was currently examining him with a raised eyebrow.

He didn't appear to be too old. Perhaps slightly younger than Bruce. His steel gray suit was sharp and clean and hugged his well-built yet lean body to perfection. Crisp, short, white hair adorned the man's head along with a well-kept goatee, and a soft smirk graced the man's mysterious face as he examined Robin. One eye was covered with a black eye-patch that traveled and wrapped around the man's ear, accentuating the man's strong, predominate jawline.

As Robin gazed at the man, he was reminded of Bruce in every way. The suit. The well-polished manner. The tall, powerful presence.

But he was also different than Bruce…

The look he gave Richard was warm and filled with amusement, but it was also filled with a flicker of concern. As the man pressed his shoulders against the elevator wall, the boy couldn't help but feel that he should know this man. He had seen him before. But where? Perhaps he was a business associate of Bruce. Had he seen him in a meeting with Bruce once? Maybe he had seen him on TV? A new business entrepreneur?

All were plausible options, but deep down Richard knew none were correct. There was something more to this man…

A flush graced Richard's face as he realized tears were still streaming down his face. The smile dropped from his face as he hastily whipped the traitorous tears away.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, boy. Everyone has bad days."

The calming words only made Richard's red face burn with a stronger intensity. He pushed himself to his knees and slammed his back against the wall of the elevator. His head thumped against the wall as he closed his eyes. A few stray, unwanted tears slipped out from his eyes and ran down his face.

"More like a bad year," the boy muttered under his breath.

A long sigh escaped the man's lips

"Yes, some have those as well."

Robin popped one eye open, surprised that the man had been able to hear him. A vacant look filled the man's eye as he stared at the sealed elevator doors.

Thoughts burned into Robin's mind. This man. There was something more – there was a deeper story. He had experience a pain so great, it still haunted his step. Curiosity bubbled inside of Richard as he regarded the figure before him. But whatever had happened, the man had overcome it. He fought through the experience and had risen above the pain. He had become stronger, better, and tougher.

But Richard saw something else. His unmasked eyes saw an invisible wall around the man. It wrapped around him and sealed him off from the world. The experience – whatever it had been – had left the man empty and hollow. It had shredded his heart into a million pieces and had scattered those pieces across the universe – never to be found. The man had blocked the world out from his life. He had blocked all emotion from his life. And because of this, the man had locked his true self away.

Richard saw all of this in a blinding second of truth. But that second quickly faded as a loud annoying ring tore through the quiet air. The man was immediately snapped out of his trace and glance over as the boy groaned. Richard pulled a sleek phone from his pocket and growled when saw who it was.

Hot anger filled his blood and with a scream of frustration he flung the phone across the elevator. But before the traitorous piece of metal could satisfyingly crash into the wall, a hand reached out and caught it.

Richard's jaw dropped at the man's uncanny reflexes and then settled into an annoyed scowl.

"Should've let it smash against the wall," Richard muttered, turning away from the amused smirk that bore into him.

"Someone you don't want to talk too?"

"Wow, congratulations. I wonder how you figured that out?" the boy said while rolling his eyes in irritation.

The man raised his eyebrows as he looked down at the screen and read the caller ID.

"Bruce Wayne – the worst person on the face of the planet. That's certainly a creative name," the man said with an amused smirk.

Dick flushed with heat as he dragged a shaky hand through his hair.

"Um you weren't supposed to read that."

The man let out a laugh as he tossed the phone back to the boy. Richard caught it as the man shook his head ruefully.

"What did the billionaire playboy ever do to you?"

Richard dropped his eyes from the man and stared down at the glowing metal screen in his hand. He clicked it off and pocketed the phone, letting out a long sigh. He shifted his feet and extended them out in front of him.

"How long do you think it will take this elevator to start running again?" he asked, trying to deflect the man's question away from him.

A small silence filled the air, and Richard looked up, only to find that gray eye intently focused on him. The boy froze eerily reminded of another gaze, another man, another gray eye…

The man's gaze shifted to the elevator's control panel where the emergency light continued to flash. "Odd don't you think?"

Richard blinked as his thought process was suddenly interrupted.

"Sorry? What's odd?"

The man's fluid gaze returned to him.

"That an elevator in Bruce Wayne's building would stop working."

Richard cocked his head as he considered those words. It was odd if he thought about it. Bruce had installed all the state of the art equipment and upgrades throughout the entire building. The technology was practically fool-proof, and a malfunction was virtually unheard of. The only way an elevator would stop was if someone wanted it to…

Dick sprung to his feet, whipping his cell-phone out of his pocket.

"That son of a-"

"Language boy!"

But the boy ignored the man as he furiously swore at his phone, punched in the number, and lifted it to his ear. It rang for less than two seconds before the person on the other end picked up.

"WHAT THE HELL BRUCE?" Richard practically screamed, ignoring the odd look he was receiving from the other man.

"Richard, calm down.

"CALM DOWN? YOU TRAPPED ME IN AN ELEVATOR!"

"We need to finish our conversation."

"That doesn't mean you can just-"

"It's only for the next thirty minutes when my next meeting finishes. Then we can talk."

"Are you INSANE!"

"I'm tired of fighting, Richard."

The words on the other end were weary, spoken with a deeply jaded tone. Richard paused in his rant, taking a deep calming breath. However, anger still flowed through every vein in his body, pushing aside all reason.

"I can break out of here in five."

"Not with all the security measures in place. Please just be patient-"

"PATIENT! You know what f-"

A strong hand on his shoulder suddenly snapped the boy out of his conversation, and he whirled around to see the man staring at him with his deep gray eye. The pressure gently increased, and Richard slowly lowered the cellphone to from his ear.

The man reached out and grabbed Dick's wrist, making eye contact with the boy.

"It's not worth it."

The words were soft yet laced with a hard edge - strong enough to break the boy out of his anger yet gentle enough to get through his hard demeanor. Richard took a deep breath and looked back down at the glowing screen. His anger flickered and fizzled, dying out and was replaced with a sudden sense of weariness. He looked back up at the man and with a soft nod of encouragement, hung up the phone.

Richard dropped the phone back into his pocket and drove his hands against his eyes, rubbing them with frustration as the beginnings of a headache pounded against his head.

"Thanks," he muttered.

He felt the hand on his shoulder move and give him a light pat on the back.

"Arguing will get you nowhere."

"Tell that to him."

"It takes two to have an argument."

"But it only takes one to start it."

The man sighed and Dick turned as he unbutton his suit jacket and laid it neatly on the floor. He then rolled up his trousers and sat on the ground, leaning his head against the wall and mirroring the position Dick had sat in moments before.

"May as well get comfortable, looks as though we'll be here for some time."

Richard mumbled his agreement and dropped to the floor, yanking off his jacket and untied tie and tossing it into the corner of the elevator. As his eyes stared at the closed elevator doors, all he could think off were the wonderful things he was going to say to Bruce when he saw him.

"Hate someone your whole life and you'll eventually turn into him."

The words resonated in the boy's mind and a deep sigh bled into the air as Richard allowed his eyes to flicker close.

"I already am."

A chuckle echoed in the room as the man leaned forward off the wall.

"You're nothing like Wayne," the man said as he shook his head, his white hair drawing Robin's eyes.

From now on, I want you to call me Master…

"That's not who I'm worried about," he whispered, dropping his eyes to the soft plush carpet. A silence fell over the elevator as his words fell onto the ground.

"Worry will get you nowhere."

"A lot of things will get you nowhere."

"Like arguing?"

Richard groaned and rubbed his head when he realized that they were talking in circles. "Look," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, "Whatever is going on between me and Bruce has been happening for years. It can't be fixed. I'm sorry you got dragged into the middle of it."

The man seemed to contemplate his words as his gray eye grew unfocused. His hand rubbed his chin as his thoughts turned around in his head and as he examined the boy in front of him.

"Are you really going to wait here until he comes to retrieve you?"

A flicker of a smile flashed on the boy's face as Richard's eyes scanned around the small elevator.

"That depends," he said as his coy grin grew larger.

The man raised his eyebrows. "On what?"

A devious glint entered Richard's eyes as he stood up and walked to the control panel of the elevator.

"On whether or not you can give me a hand with this."

Bruce Wayne was pissed.

Not only were alarms going off in every section of the building, but his meeting had been interrupted by the shouts of his horrified secretary saying that every shred of information on the computer network had been wiped clean.

Good thing all the files were backed up to the Bat computer.

He knew it had been a bad idea to trap Richard in the elevator.

As he scrambled to find a solution to the virus that was now imbedded in his security system, he couldn't help but wonder how the boy had managed to pull the whole thing off. He didn't think Dick had any hacking devices with him, unless they had been concealed under his distractingly rumpled suit. But even then Bruce never thought the boy was capable of such potent virus under such short notice.

The boy must have learned some new tricks from his robotic friend.

Bruce sighed in relief as the last shred of the virus was now finally removed, and all systems flickered back online. He quickly pulled up the security cameras only to find the elevator was unsurprisingly empty. The man leaned back in his chair, letting out a long sigh.

So much for trying to talk things out.

Yes he knew it had been a mistake to trap Dick in the elevator, but he was at wits-end with the boy. He had been keeping tabs on the Titans so he had figured out about the whole 'Slade Apprentice Fiasco and was worried about the boy.

He seemed different – rattled and shaken.

Bruce rubbed his head as he stood from his desk and walked to the window. People swarmed his building all wanting to know what had caused the sudden meltdown. The man closed his eyes as his brain racked possible excuses.

He couldn't exactly blame this mess on a fifteen year old boy.

Bruce shook his head and sighed. He would let Richard go at least for now. It would take him a few weeks to clean up this mess with the press and the media and perhaps a few months for the boy to cool off. There was no chance he would attend the gala now.

"Mr. Wayne."

He looked up as his secretary entered his office.

"The commissioner would like to speak with you."

Bruce nodded his approval and began rummaging through the drawers in his desk. He pulled out a bottle of aspirin and took one, hoping to cut the headache that was starting to form.

Today was going to be a long day.

Fresh air and sunlight.

Being trapped in an elevator for ten minutes, made Richard realize how much he missed the outdoors.

"That should keep Wayne occupied for all of five minutes."

Richard shrugged, flashing a smile at the man next to him.

"The virus yeah, but the aftermath, well that may take a little longer to clean up," he said as he glanced back at the doors to the buildings. Cop cars swarmed the building while people streamed in and out of the tinted glass doors in chaotic masses.

"Where did the ward of Bruce Wayne learn how to invent a piece of technology like that?" the man asked with a light laugh. The pair walked down the sidewalk, sunlight flickering between their legs.

Richard shrugged, pulling out the small metal device from his pocket and turning it in his hand.

"Some friends helped me build it."

"Must be some good friends."

"Yeah," Richard replied as he put the device back in his pocket. "Some of the best."

People rushed by them as Gotham City roared to life. News reporters, curious onlookers, and city officials all blurred and mixed together. A pang of guilt rang through the boy as he fleetingly glanced at the disordered mess he had created. Bruce was not going to be happy.

His eyes traveled back to the mysterious man walking alongside of him. Although they were complete strangers, he couldn't help but feel drawn to the man. He had a sense of power and strength about him – security almost – something that Richard had lost the day his parents had died.

"What were you doing in there anyway?"

A light smile danced on the older man's face as he shrugged.

"Oh," he said while stepping around a frantic reporter, "I had some things to check up on."

"Things?" Richard asked with a curious glance. Anyone allowed into Wayne enterprises was either an employee or an important business man. Judging from the man's persona, he guessed the latter. The vague response therefore made Richard even more curious about the man next to him.

"Personal business."

The two words made it clear the man no longer wished to discuss the topic. Richard nodded. He would ask Bruce about it later.

"What about you?" the man asked as the two continued their walk down the street.

Richard frowned as his eyes slid back to the building.

"Personal business."

A faint ringing brought the boy's attention to the cellphone in his pocket. He sighed as he looked down at the screen and immediately put it away. He felt the man's eye upon him, and purposely kept his gaze on the ground in front of his feet.

"You'll have to face him someday."

Richard sighed, the air rushing through his lips. The pair came to a stop on a street corner, and in the distance he could see Wayne enterprises, an angry beehive of civilians.

"I know," he paused as his eyes lifted above the building and onto the shifting clouds that twisted and turned. "When I was little my parents and I would stare at the clouds and try to make pictures out of them. It seems silly now but back then, it meant the world to me." He kicked a pebbled ruefully and watched it skip out onto the dismal street. Richard looked up, suddenly realizing how foolish he probably seemed to the man.

"Sorry I-"

"What do you see?"

"Huh?"

The man gestured to the clouds, a curious expression etched into his face as he repeated the question.

"Oh um…" Richard stuttered as he watched the cotton-like clouds move across the sky. But everything blurred together in his mind and no shapes appeared.

"I see," he said as his voice faltered, "nothing."

Nothing.

Clouds can't bring back my parents.

Clouds can't fix things with Bruce.

Clouds are just as worthless as I am.

"Interesting," the man said as his own gray eye looked up at the sky, "Because I see a boy, one who is lost and confused, but who is trying his best to continue on, and in my opinion I think he'll be just fine."

Richard smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as the words of encouragement flowed into him.

"Thanks," he muttered as his gaze lifted back up into the clouds. It had been a long time since anyone had given him any words of encouragement. Sure the Titans did their best to keep moral high, but coming from someone wiser, older, it meant so much more – even if the person was a total stranger. He hadn't felt this glow of warmth since they day his parents had died.

"I wish they were here," he whispered as the longing in his heart returned. How much he would give for another minute with his mother, another second with his father. How much he would trade just to reverse the outcome of that fateful night.

"They would be proud of you."

Richard shook his head. "You don't know that."

"Maybe, maybe not," the man replied as he cocked his head. "You don't know that either."

The boy sighed. "I hate riddles."

The man let out a chuckle as he pulled a card from his pocket and scribbled something on it. "As much as I would love to stay and befuddle your brain with more riddles, I have another meeting to go to. If you ever want to talk about well," he gestured vaguely to the chaotic mess blocks away, "feel free to call me."

Richard accepted the outstretched card and flipped it over reading the eight numbers scribbled on it.

"Thanks," he said, "I may just take you up on that."

"Well," the man said, pushing himself off the pole and smoothing out his dark jacket, "this certainly has been an enlightening experience." He extended his hand which Richard shook with a smile.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr…."

"Wilson," the man finished for him.

"Well Mr. Wilson, I hope your meetings are a little more uneventful than all of this."

The man smiled, an interesting glint coming into his eye.

"Oh I don't know about that," he said as he turned and began to walk across the street. The tall figure glided across the road effortlessly and headed into the crowd of people, but before he became lost in the moving sea, he turned and looked back at the boy. His form still and unmoving in fluid and shifting crowd.

Richard raised his hand in farewell and turned, walking back in the other direction. There was something about the man that seemed familiar. The boy shrugged, kicking another pebble along his path. Perhaps he had met Mr. Wilson at some gala Bruce had hosted a while back.

The man however quickly faded from the boy's mind as he focused on his next problem at hand.

Just how exactly was he supposed to get back to the Tower with his R-cycle locked away in the parking garage at Wayne Enterprises?

The boy sighed and looked at the massive mob surrounding the building.

Today was going to be a long day.

Slade watched as the outline of the boy quickly faded away into the distance. It had been tempting – so tempting to reveal his identity to the boy, but he had decided against it…

There would always be another time, another opportunity, and another chance.

A seed of trust had been established, and the man could build off of that. Robin and Slade may be arch enemies, but the man could still forge a relationship with Richard Grayson; he could still gain the boy's trust.

He had known for years that Richard Grayson was Robin's civilian persona and that Bruce Wayne was Batman's civilian persona, but the man had never used that knowledge until now. He preferred to play fair and disliked holding a secret identity against a person. Every human had the right to privacy.

Even someone like Wayne.

For now he would wait and let events play out. After his failed attempt at forcing Robin into an apprenticeship, Slade had decided to change tactics and approach the challenge from a different perspective.

The boy had his number. The ball was now in his court. Slade could wait. He had all the time in the world.

The man walked down the street, another figure among the massive crowd of Gotham City, planning, waiting, watching. A time would come when he would reveal his identity to the boy, when the cards would fall and the illusions would fade away. But for now he was content to remain a mystery, another face among the masses

A specter waiting in the background.

An enemy in disguise.