With everybody being quarantined, and general mood being low, I wanted to start updating the story. Hopefully some new content to read will bring cheer to somebody.

So…if you're reading this because you get notifications when I post a new chapter, it would be wise to start reading the story from the beginning. I'm not sure you'll enjoy the chapter if you haven't read this story in the years it has taken me to update it. So sorry for that! FYI, I like keeping stories energetic, so I promise, this harder stuff will pass (and hopefully getting through this chapter will help me get going on the rest of the story).

Also, I haven't spent time editing this chapter. Please forgive the mistakes.

Please check my comments after this chapter!

Chapter 11

Preparation for Slade's vacation was easy for Robin. Robin only "owned" a few items—all provided to him by Slade of course—and packing took only a few minutes. Slade had already been packed for his trip, so although he needed to clear up some business he had dropped when he came back for Robin, he didn't anticipate their need to stay for more than a few hours.

As he waited for Slade to finish his work, Robin found himself moping in his room. He knew that he would questioned if he went to the gym, and he wasn't in the mood to be social. Instead, he found comfort in completing old homework while the assassin worked.

The assassin. Deathstroke.

Robin had deliberately avoided thinking about Slade's new title. He had already known the man was an assassin. He had known that the man outclassed him in fighting. Did it really matter that he was Deathstroke on top of everything else?

Yes. It mattered. Deathstroke was notorious for being unstoppable. The Justice League had spoken of him more than once, but Deathstroke's operation had always been secretive enough to avoid their detection. His assassinations were quiet, didn't attract a lot of attention, and were infrequent enough that the Justice League always had bigger fish to fry. Their main advice for Robin was to simply stay away from the man. Eventually they would perhaps focus on capturing the man, but Robin wondered if they were avoiding a war with the secretive villain.

Well, not so secretive anymore. Deathstroke's operation may have been quiet, but Slade's work wasn't so much. Slade had made a name for himself in Jump, and while he wasn't known for high-profile assassinations, there was some information acquired on him.

Working to keep his breath steady, Robin stepped into Slade's room just as the man was sending an e-mail. He waited until the villain turned to him questioningly. He must have sensed Robin's anxiety, because he smoothly closed the laptop and faced him fully.

"Deathstroke." Robin stated, ready to have this conversation.

Slade didn't hesitate, "You caught that, did you? I wasn't sure how you would react."

Robin laughed humorlessly, "I've had a few things on my mind. I'm…not really sure I'm even ready for this now. I feel like I keep falling down, and every time I try to get up, a rug is pulled out from under me." He wasn't sure how else to describe the turmoil he was in.

"I'm worried about you," Slade responded. Robin couldn't help but look at him directly in the eye. "What you're describing, and what you have overcome recently, well…let's say you need a break from all of this. Immediately. That's why we're going on a vacation. I'm not trying to create more uncertainty, I just want you to be able to get away from everything for now."

"It would be nice," Robin commented. He knew he should address the revealing of his identity now (at least, as far as he could with the members of the HIVE Academy), before people began making up their own theories about him, but he wasn't ready for it yet. Perhaps he could draw strength from getting away this week, find his figurative foothold, and be more prepared to address the reality of his life when he returned later.

"If you are ready to talk about anything, speak to me. Whether you need my advice, or just need me to listen, I will comply."

Given how busy Robin knew Slade was, he was grateful for the offer. Of course, he wasn't foolish enough to believe it was all generosity. Slade knew how to manipulate him, and he was likely to be doing so now. But regardless of whether it was generosity or not, it was better than breaking Robin down further only to then "build him up from scratch." Breaking Robin would be all too easy now, and they both knew it.

"Did Batman, or anybody from the Justice League, know you were Deathstroke?" That seemed like a safe enough question. Robin wasn't ready to go into Slade's past yet.

Slade was obviously amused, "They didn't, initially. They discovered my alternate identity about a month ago. You should have seen their faces. If anything ever made a bunch of Superheroes panic..."

Robin couldn't help but feel amused in return. He could imagine Ollie's eyes widening at the realization that his young friend was in the hands of a criminal mastermind that even the Green Arrow could never beat. He felt a little bad about Clark, since the Kryptonian would be in a full-on panic when he realized his "nephew" wasn't just in the hands of a small-time Jump City villain. Barry would probably just ask, "Wait, who's Deathstroke?"

Bruce… Robin lost all amusement when he thought of his mentor's reaction. Was the man frightened for him? Did he die wondering if his protégé would never be rescued?

Slade must have realized the direction of Robin's thoughts—it couldn't be hard, it was the same direction all of Robin's thoughts turned to—because he quickly walked over to Robin. Laying a hand on his shoulder, Slade leaned into Robin, "I promise, the pain will soften."

Robin nodded, and Slade instructed him to grab his bag. With a little smirk, the villain commented, "You might want to put something else on. It's going to be cold where we're going."

TTTTT

Having double-layered his sweaters, Robin followed Slade into the cafeteria. The villain wore a coat (he told Robin the boy would get one at their destination) and had his suitcase strapped onto his back like a traditional backpack. It was so pedestrian it almost felt surreal.

A familiar man sat at a table in the empty cafeteria. It only took a moment for Robin to remember this man as the villain who kidnapped him and a couple hundred hostages in the first place, all those months ago.

"Umber," Slade greeted the man, holding out a hand to shake. The man, Umber, smiled grimly and shook his hand in return.

"You're finally taking a break, are you? Slade, I have been waiting for this day for a long time."

"Sometimes a break from work is more productive than keeping to the grind," Slade replied before turning to Robin, "Robin, you may remember Umber. You met him briefly when you arrived. He's possibly the least sociable person I know, though, so don't expect to see him often."

"I remember. How did you transport so many people?" Robin asked Umber. "I don't know any meta-humans who could do that. I'm sure I would remember somebody who could transport hundreds of people unwillingly."

"Ah, normally I can't. Slade provided me with a special tool to allow that." Umber smiled again, more warmly this time. "I wish I had that juice all the time, but it was just a one-shot. Still, I can transport a couple of people at a time, and fortunately I have quite the range."

"Which brings us where we are now." Slade interjected, "Umber, if you will bring us to our destination?"

Umber nodded, handing Slade a small package, before commenting, "To ensure an easier experience, Robin, please take some deep breaths and close your eyes."

Robin remembered the illness last time, and began breathing slowly and deeply. He felt some anxiety at travelling via fog again, but deep breathing tended to help with many of the whip-last sensations associated with meta abilities.

Fog began to raise from Umber's feet. It moved quickly toward them, and just before it touched him, Robin closed his eyes. He could feel the jerk of transportation and kept his eyes closed as he felt his body jerking in motion. From what he remembered, the experience only lasted seconds.

A shock of cold took Robin's breath away, and he opened his eyes to find himself staring down a snow-covered mountain. "Holy, mother of-"

"Robin," Slade's voice resounded next to him. "I warned you it would be cold."

Blinking his eyes at the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow, Robin glanced up at Slade. "You didn't think a bit more warning would be polite? It's freezing up here! What are we supposed to do in all this?"

"Get the cabin ready, for starters." Robin could tell Slade was grinning from under his mask as the man turned around. Robin followed suit and saw a small cabin just above them.

"Why didn't he just send us inside?" Robin grumbled, the snow was past his knees as he fought through the drifts. He wasn't used to snow—Gotham only snowed a couple of inches a year and Jump City didn't snow at all—and he had never been a fan of the cold.

"He doesn't have that kind of focus." Slade responded, trudging along next to him. "When we return, he'll send his 'feeler fog' to the general area and we must touch it to transport back to him. Sometimes he can send it directly to a person, if he focuses hard enough, but mostly it's a location issue. We'll need to be in this area in exactly one week for him to send us back."

"Where are we?" Robin asked, looking around. He didn't see any signs of other civilization in the area.

"That would be telling," Slade responded, just ahead of Robin. "Go inside and grab a coat. If you can get a fire started, you'll get warmer faster."

Robin was all too eager to get into the building, as Slade walked around the back of the cabin. It wasn't easy for the man, Robin could tell, as the snow had clearly drifted against the hillside of the winter cabin. Once inside, Robin looked around the dark room, waiting for his eyes to adjust from being snow-blind. There appeared to be two rooms: a kitchen on one end and a bedroom on the other. The main room, in which he stood, had the fireplace.

Robin first went into the bedroom where, as expected, he found a winter coat. It was just his size, Robin mused, as he pulled it on and zipped it up. A hat lay next to it and Robin quickly put it on his head and pulled it down around his ears. Contemplating his mask for a moment, Robin peeled it from his face and laid it on the bed. His identity wasn't a secret anymore, and while he no longer identified as Richard Grayson, he figured now would be a good time for Slade to get to know his real face as "Robin."

Walking back into the main room, Robin blinked his eyes as they adjusted to the cool air of the cabin. His eyes weren't used to being free to the elements, something that Robin recognized could become a weakness.

Robin walked over to the fireplace and opened the door to it. Inside, a metal grate rested with some dry logs stacked neatly on top. A glance around revealed a lighter and kindling resting outside the fireplace, and Robin got to work setting the kindling under the logs. Just before he was ready to light them on fire, he opened the flue. Flicking the lighter, he lit the kindling.

The fire blew out within seconds.

Surprised, Robin started the lighter a second time, pausing when once again it blew out. Frustrated now, Robin removed the logs inside and began working on creating a small teepee of sticks. Just as he was about to light it, a low hum outside started and the lights flickered on.

"Well, at least we have power," Robin mumbled, starting the lighter again. Finally, just as Robin was about to question whether his pride would allow him to admit defeat, the kindling took and began burning slowly.

Slade entered the cabin, covered in snow. As he shook himself off in the door, Robin commented, "You know, I wouldn't have objected to a tropical island. Or maybe a five-star hotel. This isn't exactly what I consider a vacation."

Slade glanced between his bare face and the stack of wood he was working on. Without missing a beat, Slade shrugged off his coat and took off his mask.

"What are you—what are you doing?" Robin stumbled out. There was no reason for the Boy Wonder to hide his identity, since he would be revealing exactly nothing, but nobody knew who Slade was!

Of course, there was little to say about Slade's appearance other than that he had white hair, a well-maintained white beard, and an eyepatch. Robin knew immediately that he didn't recognize Slade personally, but if—when—he escaped, at least he had something to describe.

"I have no reason to hide from you," Slade responded. "I just needed you to be ready, and it appears you are."

Robin glanced at his mask in the other room. He wasn't ready for the man to know who he was, but that choice had already been taken from him. At least, perhaps something good came from all of this. At least Robin might be able to identify the man later.

"As for the vacation spot," Slade continued, "I think you will enjoy what I have in mind. Have you ever been snowboarding?"

A/N: I had so much more I wanted to include in this chapter, but I figured this would be a good start. I realize it's a bit short, but it won't be all you get!

In the meantime, I have been in the process of drafting a book. I'm hoping to have it finished in a few months! Would anybody be interested in getting a PM from me when the book is published (I'm thinking I might self-publish straight out)? If so, let me know and I will add you to my list!