FudoTwin17: Hi!

Cat: Explain. They should really know what you're doing.

FudoTwin17: Okay. Guys, I lost interest in one of my stories, and I have an obsession at the moment with keeping fifteen stories going, so I'm just replacing it with this.

Goldfish # 1: Yep. She doesn't own Young Justice. And don't forget to check out her poll.

Prologue

It was a nightmare. That was the only way Robin could think to describe it. He sighed, whipping away blood from his split lip.

He was completely alone.

No one could help him, not even Batman.

He sighed, curling up in a corner for warmth. The room was cold and dark. It's gray walls had the occasional blood splatter. The only way in and out was a large, metal door with a small slot for his food to come in. Like a prison cell, the only means of bedding was a wooden plank held up by chains. On the plank was another costume.

Robin stayed silent.

Batman had trained him for all different possibilities for when he was kidnapped, but never this. Not once could he have imagined anything like this. He was learning how to adapt without giving into his kidnapper's ploy.

He shivered.

Robin would never be found. Dick Grayson would forever be missing. The legacy of the Flying Grayson's would not be carried on.

He stopped his hand when he felt it move toward his belt.

His belt was no longer there.

Also missing was his cape and the knife he had tucked under it, his gloves, his boots, and the knifes he had hidden among the lining of his costume. Of course, he no longer had any of the three tracers that had been on him curtsey of Batman.

Not to mention the fact that he no longer had his mask.

Robin shivered, knowing that by disobeying the man that had taken him was going to get him killed. Or worse.

His friends killed. His mentor killed. The Justice League killed.

A third the population of Gotham killed.

He had no choice.

Slowly and painfully, the boy wonder stood and walked to the plank, grasping the costume that he desperately wished he had never come across.

"Breathe, Grayson, breathe." He whispered to himself. He was afraid, extremely afraid. But he was the boy wonder. He feared no one, no matter what. He was the night. He warded off pain and fear, saving others. It was his job.

He glanced at his hand only to see a deep burn.

Usually, things like that would be used to mark a cow and identify the ranch it belonged to, but this time, it was on him. It marked him, telling him whose property he was. It made Robin sick to see himself branded in such an inhumane way.

He shut his eyes.

For his friends, for his family, for the people. He would do it for them.

Resigning to his fate, he began to pull on the costume. He had no choice.

The insignia stood for Slade, his master.

FudoTwin17: Once again, I am super sorry! And don't forget that there is a poll on my page.

Cat: Painful.

Dog # 1: Yep.