Set between the events of Apprentice Part 2. Because I'm so unoriginal that way. I don't know where I was going with this... you can decipher it if you want. I purposely wrote Starfire the way she is but I thought it was entertaining enough to post. Dedicated to everyone who has reviewed me... thank you bunches, guys; and most definitely for Kyoko Tatsunage for challenging this Groth-er with another RobStar. Not exactly the way you wanted it, forgive me. Enjoy the angst and reviewing would make the authoress happy.

Disclaimer: Teen Titans belongs to DC Comics and Warnerbros. I just wish I could own it. But unfortunately, I've got nothing.



I don't know what to do anymore .Everything seems to be unraveling before my eyes in a terrifying whirl of despair and blind terror. It is uncharacteristic for me to be lying in a dwelling of darkness and unholy silence but I have no choice.

I was chased into it.

And I'm scared.

One of my dearest friends leans on the back of her strong titanium door, dribbles of sweat streak her gray temples. I have seen rare emotions from her but not that of the utter panic projecting from her bright amethyst eyes. I am already on my last hinge of stability. Soon her panic is suppressed by immense disorientation, and I find it to be more comforting than fear.

"Raven, what are we to do?"

She blinks as if surprised by a small, timid voice in her domain and sets her sights on my curled up form near the low end of her bed. My breath hitches up in my chest cavity when a ding-ding-ding of metal drumming metal passes the doorway. Petrified, I glance at Raven as she screws up her eyes, pressing her lower back against the door, her chest rising and falling soundlessly but in faster beats. When it passes, when she is sure we are safe, my friend whispers monotonously, "He knows we're here. He's baiting us."

A helpless moan escapes me as I bury my head into my knees, wrapping my long arms around them in a nest-like fashion.

"I'm going out there."

My neck snapped back upright and I protest louder then I should have, "No, you cannot!" We both wince simultaneously, waiting for an explosion, footsteps, anything.

Nothing comes.

Raven frowns at my frailty. "Beast Boy and Cyborg are still out there. We can't let Robin walk around freely when he's like this. He could hurt someone, Starfire."

'He already has….'

When I climb to my feet, the doorway appears to her, to consume her cloaked figure behind enemy lines. She calmly says over her shoulder, "Stay here if you want to but I'm leaving."

"Friend Raven please…Raven…..!"

I rush down the crooked winding path guiding my way to her bedroom door only to have to slam shut in my face. Something in me snaps and I fall with the top half of my body resting on the freezing bedroom door, my shoulders shaking. I am strong enough to break down that door, to tear it to shreds within seconds with my incredible alien strength but I merely hide my face into it, the remoteness of the titanium, the cold, numbing my forehead lolled upon it until it seemed that the numbness had spread to every part of my being.

It is as if she signed her own death wish.

I am at a loss. I know that I should have followed Raven because it was the right thing to do; it is what a hero should do. I know that hiding in Raven's room was nothing more than cowardly.

I am not strong enough to face him. Slade's apprentice. My Robin. My formidable boy. If it came to it, I could not stop him. I know this in my heart that his demise by my hands would be

…..would be mine as well.

But if Raven could do it, if Beast Boy, if Cyborg, if anyone else would be willing... then what did that make them? Were they dead... were they past living with wallowing that they could do what was right? Did that mean I was alive, by being alive I was weaker than them?

Maybe…... I had to die.

My brilliant green eyes rounded silently at the concept.

Shamefully, I lower my face down to stare at my right hand, clutching it into a ball. My hand remains its burnt orange color. My fingers curl around the frame of the bedroom door and with a short heave, the mechanics die and the door slid without restraint as I push it aside to slip through the doorway.

On the second floor, my telepathic friend laid cataleptic, her lips touching the carpet in a vat of her own blood. No sign of my other friends within view.

I finally approach the operations center to hear someone calling for me. I can only get a glimpse of blue-green before a jet of red blasts into the approaching outline, throwing it off its feet into the room ahead. It had purposely missed my head by inches. I do not flinch nor jump at the occurrence but my heart twinges at the scene of a crumpled male form in mauve and black.

My fingertips spark yellow.


Five feet away, Robin holds up his Bo-Staff, crouched in stance to attack me. My body turns to align with my head in his direction, for the moment I wish I had not turned around. His expression is that of only I can describe as unmovable. No compassionate smile, no sense of understanding I can be reassured of. Slade has destroyed him, has completely taken away my comfort and happiness.

I feel the corners of my eyes succumb to livid yellow-green.

His coiling body jerks once and one of his hands comes up to clap over his ear, I did not notice the earphones before. Almost immediately Robin drops his staff and extends out his hand with the thermal blaster. It revs up with a wash of orange light. He charges unmercifully head on at me and I drop my eyes, extending my hand, and shooting him square in the chest. He falls back onto the floor, smoke rising from his costume but otherwise plainly unharmed.

My heart is screaming for me to stop this madness but I again raise my hand, menacing green light covering every inch of my wrist down.

"Unless you want me to do further harm to you, you will stop tormenting our friends."

I'm not sure whether I directed the question to him or Slade who was eavesdropping on every piece of the conversation.

"I have no choice."

His voice is so very low, so very insecure, so very not like Robin at all.

I cock my head to the side, my power glowing brighter. "That's too bad then."

He sits up and his emotionless pretense drops to show his helplessness, drawing out in his lips as he mouthed out my name. It occurs to me that maybe Slade had not taken all of him yet, maybe there was a chance. That thought is pushed to the back of my mind as Robin tackles me onto the floor, kneeing me in the gut, and presses a muscled forearm into my windpipe. His legs sit on my arms, his pelvis touching my stomach. It does nothing to constrain me; with a loud cry, I blast his armor-clad body against the ceiling and he somersaults back to an upright position.

I leap back onto my feet to block a punch he sent half-heartedly at my face, as he continues, I become well aware he is not trying to hurt me but putting on a good show for the enemy. Choosing not to spoil the charade, I do not hold back as a much larger star bolt strikes the middle of his forehead and he keels over in a semi-dead faint.

Quietly, I kneel beside his fallen body to carefully pluck out one of the earphones from the crevices of Robin's ears. The transmission is barely there but from within fuzzes, I hear his greeting.

"You think you won, my dear?"

Cupping my palm closer to my mouth, I murmur in a deadpan utmost contrasting to my lighthearted spirit, "He's mine now, Slade."

It explodes in a spark of green and black cinders.

Robin is unaware of this exchange between me and the enemy. Of this I am glad because of all this… felt too dreamlike to be real. I sit on my ankles, hovering over him attentively to check him over for any injuries. He appears undamaged except for the scar along his jowl, tender and newly colored a fleshy pink.

Not by my hand.

My fingertips gently touch it... then shyly pull away.

I wasn't dead. My nature prevented me from ruthlessly killing like others; possibly in total rage and blur of emotions I could do that unforgivable deed. But not to him. I couldn't kill something that I loved permanently, an existence I depended on to breath, the one thing on this extraordinary planet that seemed more extraordinary than Earthly customs itself.

Even dressed in Slade's attire, he looks like my Robin.

His soft curved cheeks, black and white mask hiding the greatest secret, thick clumps of inky ebony hair I dreamed of running my hands through in loving gestures similar to those in the 'chick flicks'.

One of my hands fall over the top of his head. Orange fingers tangling in silk. I stroke the slight wrinkle in his forehead, hoping to smooth it from sight.

The warmth of my touch causes him to groan, in protest I wonder, but he does not awaken from his lifeless daze. Not even as a BANG goes off down the corridor. From the wreckage came a lank and robotic stature, a Slade bot held up its weapon and fires at us. Somehow I was not surprised that Slade had sent one so quickly.

Without thinking about it clearly, I grab the forgotten Bo-Staff and shot-put it into the robot's head. It cleanly slices into its cranium with a shower of angry fizzes but does not falter in it's steps.

Putting my arms together, eyes narrowed, I create and spread my glowing shield against the yellow lasers coming in my path but it was not enough as the robot barrels at me at the last second, thrusting me at the wall. Losing my balance, the back of my head thumps into the solid plaster and I collapse onto the insensitive ground.

During the timeless drop, my thoughts came rushing back to me. Would my friends wake up to stop the Slade bot? Were they okay?

One question I didn't need answered was Robin's loyalty. He was my best friend and regardless, he loved us and we loved him. We would stop Slade.

My face sinks into the carpet, red strands pooling around me, nameless shadows passing in and out of my dying vision.

Yes, I had won Slade.

I had won.