Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Robin had been in this blank room for what felt like hours. He head was laying forward tiredly, and he waited until something would happen. Anything. He couldn’t break out like this. Even if he hated waiting, that was his only way out.

He…Couldn’t remember much. There was a fight…His friends were there…Slade too…But that was it. He must have gotten a concussion to not remember.

And his chest…Damn it hurt…It hurt to breathe or even move. His legs would not respond when he tried to right himself, it just felt like his lower body was held down by concrete.

Well, he may have fought someone made of it before—it was no issue, but he had no other comparison to think of.

The room was silent, the only sound being the soft hum of machinery past the concrete walls. Until a door creaked open ahead of him, revealing a familiar, Slade-like figure. 

It stepped inside, boots clicking against the cold floor. The mask hid any expression, but the voice is calm and collected as always. "Robin."

Slade walked closer, his movements fluid and deliberate. He stopped just out of Robin's reach and crouched down, his masked face tilting slightly as he observed the exhausted hero. His voice was low and steady, devoid of any emotional inflection. "You've been out for quite some time."

“…I thought you were gone…It’s been four years…W-Why come back now?” Robin breathed, his voice strained and squeaky in a defeated tone.

"Four years...How time flies, doesn't it?" He paused, something that sounded faintly like amusement crossed his voice. "You think I was gone?"

“…I hoped…” Robin mumbled back

Slade's hand suddenly reached out, grabbing Robin's chin and forcing his head up. His mask was inches from Robin's face, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Hoped? Or wished? Because I assure you, Robin...I was never truly gone." His grip tightened slightly. 

“…I didn’t think so…But I hoped you were…That I was still paranoid…”

His thumb traced Robin's jawline, a slight pressure reminder of his presence. "Paranoid? Or smart?" He stepped back slightly, releasing his grip but lingering close. "You knew deep down I'd return...”

Slade turned away abruptly, his boots echoing on the cold floor as he paced a few steps. "Four years without my favorite apprentice..." He muttered almost to himself. "Missed the chaos. Missed you." The last part was said softer, almost unintelligible. "Though..."

His voice returned to its normal volume, thoughtful and unhurried. Like he was debating something internally. "You got quieter. Calmer. Less impulsive. More like me..." He paused, considering something. "Yet you're still an idiot." He added almost affectionately. 

Slade spun back around, his eye narrowed and his arms still crossed behind his back. He always did that stupid thing. "You let your guard down. Thought you were safe. Thought you'd won." His voice grew colder, more accusatory. "And now look at you. Weak. Injured."

“Unfairly…” Robin managed to huff out, but didn’t try to move himself. “…Tell me, what did you do to me? I can’t feel my legs…”

Slade's expression didn't change, but there was a slight pause before he answered. "Unfairly? Life is unfair, Robin. You should know that by now." He stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "As for your legs...I don’t know, truly.”

Slade's gaze flickered down to Robin's legs briefly, then back up to his face. His expression was unreadable behind the mask, but his voice held a note of something almost like curiosity. "You can't feel them? At all?" He reached out suddenly, grabbing Robin's knee and squeezing it hard. 

“Just dead weight…”

Slade's hand remained on Robin's knee for a moment longer than necessary before he released it abruptly. He stood up straight, his posture rigid. "Interesting." He said nonchalantly, but there was an underlying current of something else in his voice. "Maybe I broke something."

“…Why can’t I remember our fight, Slade?”

“Why would you want to remember it?” His tone was surprisingly gentle, almost caring. "Some things...Even your mind knows better than to keep."

“…Then tell me what happened!” Robin tried to raise his voice, but it was still a pained sound. “And where my friends are…”

His expression hardened beneath the mask. "Demanding as ever..." He muttered. "Your 'friends' are fine. Unconscious, but alive. Last I checked." He added almost grudgingly. "As for your question..." He paused, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

"You attacked me first. With all your might. I fought back...Harder than I should have." He admitted quietly, almost to himself. "The fight was brutal. You took some heavy hits. That's why you can't remember or feel your legs." His hand clenched into a fist. 

“…Then how am I alive?”

Slade's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his mask. "Because I didn't want to kill you." He said bluntly. "I held back enough to keep you breathing. Barely." He added with a hint of frustration. "And I had some…Debts to be repaid from a few old friends.”

He suddenly crouched down beside Robin, his masked face inches from Robin's. "But let me make one thing clear, Boy Wonder." His voice was low and dangerous. "If you ever attack me again with that kind of ferocity...I won't hold back."

He leaned back slightly, his eye narrowing as he studied Robin's face. "You understand? I won't go easy on you next time. You'll be lucky if you walk away with your life." He stood up abruptly, turning his back to Robin. "But for now...You're alive."

“…Why not just do that before, then? Want to watch me suffer before killing me?” Robin nearly hissed, keeping his head and eyes down.

Slade froze at the accusation, his shoulders tensing. He didn't turn around immediately. "Because..." He paused, his voice coming out rougher than intended. "Because…I have other things I wish to do with you. Nothing that involes killing you.”

“We’ve already done this dance before…What makes you think you can control me a second time? I know your tricks now…”

Slade finally turned around, his eye glinting with something akin to amusement behind his mask. "Oh? You think you've learned my tricks?" He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low purr. "Let me remind you of something, Robin." He leaned down slightly. 

"You've been my hostage before. You've had your mind messed with. You've been manipulated. You've been tricked." He counted off on his fingers, his voice dangerously soft. "So tell me..." He smirked with his eye, "Where exactly do you think you have the upper hand now?" He straightened up, his smirk growing more pronounced. "You're injured, weakened, and at my mercy. The same situation that allowed me to control you the first time."

“…But you probably paralyzed me…So you have a bigger burden to bear…”

His smirk faded, replaced by a look of respect and something darker. "Smart boy...Yes, I did paralyze you from the waist down. Makes things...More complicated for me." He stepped back suddenly, giving Robin space but not breaking eye contact. "But also more interesting. And in fact, I did it so specifically so that soon you would walk again—but only with my help.”

He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with a casual air that belied the intensity of his gaze. "You see, paralyzing you was a choice. A strategic one. It means you need me now more than ever. And that, Boy Wonder, gives me all the control."

“That’s not my title anymore…”

His eye flashed with something intense at the mention of his old title. "Then what is it, hm? Just 'Robin' now? Or have they given you a new name in that tower of yours?" He pushed off the wall, stalking closer again. 

“…I am Robin…You will not change that…”

He stopped in front of him, his mask inches from Robin’s face. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. "Oh, I'm not trying to change it. I'm just reminding you of what it means." He reached out, his black-gloved hand wrapping around his throat gently but firmly. "Robin. The Boy Wonder."

His thumb pressed lightly against Robin’s pulse as his other hand reached up to grab a handful of his dark hair, tilting his head back. "You were always so proud of that title. So eager to please Batman. To be his little sidekick." His grip tightened slightly. "But now...You’re a part of some lowly, rag-tag group of nothing teens who try to act like heros.”

Robin wanted to speak, but not only did his ribs hurt like hell, the grip on his throat was stopping him.

"That's right..." He whispered, his grip tightening just enough to steal breath. "No Batman to save you now. No Bat-gadgets. Just you...And a team that wouldn't even miss you if you fell." His eye gleamed dangerously through his mask. 

"At least with Batman, you had purpose. Even if it was just being his shadow." His thumb traced the side of the boy’s neck. "Now? Now you're just another kid playing dress-up in tights." His grip loosened slightly, but his presence remained intimidating. 

He released Robin’s hair but kept his hand around his throat, his thumb pressing against the pulse. "But I can give you purpose again." His voice was low and seductive with a dangerous promise. "I can give you something worth fighting for."

Robin again tried to speak, but it was a choked squeak more than it was words. 

Slade watched him struggle, his thumb pressing harder against his throat. "Words aren't going to save you, Robin." He leaned in closer, his mask brushing against your ear. "In fact, if you try to speak again, I might just squeeze until you pass out."

He held the position for a moment longer, ensuring Robin understood the gravity of his threat. Then, slowly, he eased his grip, allowing him to breathe freely again. His hand remained around his throat, a constant reminder of his control.

"There we go. Much better when you listen."

Robin's breaths were shallow and labored, his ribs screaming with every inhale. But he remained silent, his eyes locked onto Slade's mask, unblinking.

Slade smirked behind his mask, his thumb brushing against Robin's throat. "Smart kid." He praised mockingly. 

He kept his hand on Robin’s throat, but he didn't squeeze. Instead, he used it to tilt his head slightly, examining where the bruises began just near his collar bone, and the fear in his eyes as he was held.

His voice dropped to a whisper against his ear. "You know...You're quite bruised up there, Robin." His free hand moved to gently trace the edge of one of the bruises visible at his collarbone. "How many ribs do you think you've cracked this time?"

“…Enough to keep me alive…” Robin panted, not entirely focused on Slade anymore.

At Robin's weak response, Slade's hand suddenly tightened around his throat, not choking him, but applying enough pressure to make him see stars. "Wrong answer." He cut him off harshly before leaning back to assess the damage again. "Let me rephrase...How many broken ribs are you currently dealing with, Robin? Be honest."

His thumb pressed hard enough on Robin's pulse point to make him dizzy but not enough to cut off circulation completely. His other hand moved to gently—almost painfully—press on Robin's side near one of the injuries. "Answer me."

Robin couldn’t form an answer. This was all too much, and his eyes were unfocused from the pain and exhaustion. 

Noting how close he was to passing out, Slade slowly eased his grasp on his throat and removed his hand from Robin's broken ribs. His voice softened slightly. "Five? Six?" He guessed, knowing full well he'd probably hit more than one of those perfectly placed strikes. 

Slade's fingers gently lifted Robin's chin, forcing him to look up at the masked man looming over him. His eye searched Robin's unfocused gaze, seeing the pain and exhaustion written all over his face. "You're a mess, aren't you?" He murmured, more to himself than to Robin. 

He let out a soft sigh, almost sounding disappointed. His thumb brushed gently over Robin's bruised throat. "You should have stayed down when you had the chance." He said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He then shifted slightly to look at Robin’s battered body more closely. 

He took in the cuts on his forehead, the split lip, the bruised throat, the probable concussion...Then there were his ribs. He could see at least two places where they were likely broken. He carefully lifted the edge of Robin's shirt, wincing at the dark bruises that covered his chest like a horrible sunburn. 

Slade's breath caught slightly at the extent of Robin's injuries. He felt an unexpected pang of...Something. Regret? Concern? He quickly dismissed it, focusing instead on the practical implications. 

He let out a low growl, more to himself than anything. "Damn kid," he muttered under his breath. "You're a fucking mess." He shifted his grip to Robin’s side carefully, pressing gently on the bruised ribs to see if he could get any reaction out of him. 

Robin couldn’t form any reaction, his eyes nearly completely closed, but he seemed to have passed out, or at least be close with the subtlest movements of his body. 

Slade watched Robin's face carefully as he pressed harder on his ribs. When he got no reaction other than a slight twitch of his eyelids, he knew he'd been right about the extent of his injuries. He let out another sigh, this one sounding more frustrated than anything else. 

He stood up straight, looking down at Robin's unconscious form with a mix of annoyance and something softer he refused to acknowledge. Without a word, he reached down and scooped Robin up into his arms, being careful not to jostle his broken ribs too much. 

He shifted Robin's weight carefully in his arms, adjusting his grip to make sure he wasn't putting too much pressure on his injuries. "Stupid kid," he muttered, starting to carry him towards his medical unit furthest down the hall. 

He entered the room, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel. The medical unit was well-equipped thanks to years of experience dealing with injuries both self-inflicted and otherwise. He laid Robin down gently on the examination table. 

He worked quickly, his trained fingers finding bruises, cuts, and potential broken bones easily. He growled softly at finding another rib that was probably cracked. He would have no way of knowing internal damage until he had a professional come in to check instead.

He started with the ribs first, knowing they needed to be set before anything else. He worked carefully, using his knowledge to position Robin's body in a way that would minimize pain. He wrapped bandages around Robin's torso tightly, securing the broken ribs in place.

He continued muttering curses under his breath as he worked. He grabbed an ice pack, placing it gently on Robin's forehead to help with the concussion. He then grabbed antiseptic wipes, cleaning the cuts on Robin's forehead and lip gently. 

As he cleaned the cuts, his movements became even more careful. He couldn't help but notice how small Robin was, how fragile he seemed now that the fight was over. His touch inadvertently softened as he applied ointment to the split lip and placed a small bandage over the cut on his forehead. 

Once everything was cleaned and bandaged, Slade stepped back to assess his work. Robin looked small and pale lying there, his breaths shallow and uneven. Slade hesitated, then grabbed a blanket and gently pulled it over Robin's body, tucking it around his shoulders. "Stupid kid..."

He stood there for a moment longer than necessary, watching Robin sleep. His expression was unreadable as he took in the boy's battered face and bruised body. With a sigh that sounded almost like regret, Slade turned away and began cleaning up the medical supplies he'd used. 

As he worked, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He hated seeing Robin like this, so small and vulnerable. It reminded him too much of the times he'd seen him crying or scared after their fights. He growled softly, pushing the thought away. "Fucking brat..."

He finished cleaning up and turned back to Robin, his expression hardening as he tried to shake off any lingering softness. 

He walked over to the side of the examination table and checked Robin's pulse and breathing one last time before deciding it was time to leave him to rest. "You better not die on me…”

He leaned down, his face inches from Robin's, and whispered harshly, "If you wake up with a fever or start bleeding again, I swear to God I will beat you myself. Understand?" His thumb accidentally brushed over Robin's bruised cheek before he straightened up and turned to leave. 

As he reached the door, he paused, his hand on the handle. Without looking back, he added gruffly, "And if you need anything, you fucking ask. Don't you dare try to move on your own." With that, he opened the door and stepped out, closing it gently behind him despite his harsh words. 

Hours passed. Robin slept deeply, his body healing slowly. Slade found himself checking on him every hour, his expression unreadable. He watched Robin's chest rise and fall slowly, making sure his breathing was steady. 

Chapter Text

As the night wore on, Slade's usual mask of coldness and aloofness began to slip. He found himself gently adjusting Robin's blanket when it fell, making sure he was warm enough. He even sat down beside his bedside for a few minutes, just watching him sleep. 

He couldn’t begin to understand why, and he tried to occupy his mind with watching him intently to try and not address it. 

Around 3 the next morning, Robin started to stir slightly. His brows furrowed together in pain or discomfort. Slade was instantly alert, sitting up straight from where he was half-asleep sitting beside the bed. He watched as Robin's hand reached up to touch his ribcage gently, wincing. 

Slade's eye narrowed as he watched Robin gingerly touch his broken ribs. Before he could even think about it, he was standing up and moving to the bedside, his hand reaching out to gently but firmly push Robin's hand away. "Don't. Touch them."

Robin’s eyes creak open, looking to him tiredly and painfully. He hardly moved his body, and didn’t seem to be all the way awake yet. 

Slade's expression softened slightly. He kept his voice low and steady, trying to mask any hint of concern. "Don't move. Your ribs are broken, idiot." He paused, then added more softly, "You need to stay still."

Slade watched as Robin's eyes fluttered closed again, his breathing shallow. He let out a soft sigh of frustration. He hated this—hated seeing Robin like this and hated even more that he cared. 

Slade sat back down beside the bed, his eyes never leaving Robin's face. He reached out and took one of Robin's hands in his own, holding it loosely between his large palms. He could feel how cold it was. 

Robin's hand twitched slightly in his grasp, but he didn't wake up. Slade found himself rubbing small circles on the back of Robin's hand with his thumb, an unconscious gesture of comfort. He sat there in the dark room, holding Robin's hand and waiting for morning to come. 

But after not too long, Robin began to actually wake up. His masked, white eyes were wide, and he looked around with a panic, though not yet noticing the hand holding his. 

Slade remained still, his hand gently holding Robin's. When Robin's eyes finally landed on him, Slade didn't let go immediately. Instead, he held Robin's gaze steadily, his expression neutral but his thumb continuing to rub soothing circles. "Easy there."

“W-Where am I?” Robin seemed to wheeze, his voice still pained and struggling for a full breath. 

Slade's expression remained calm, but his grip on Robin's hand tightened slightly. "You're safe. You're in my quarters." He watched as Robin tried to sit up, wincing in pain. Slade immediately pressed down gently on his shoulder to keep him still. "Don't. Move."

“Slade, I’m going to kill you for this! I’ll get out and I’ll hurt you just as you did me…” Robin snarled, squirming and trying to get free from Slade’s hands. 

Slade let out a dark chuckle at Robin's threat, though his expression remained neutral. "Such violent words coming from someone who can barely breathe." He increased the pressure on Robin's shoulder firmly but carefully. "Calm down before you rupture something."

Robin's struggles started to slow down, his energy fading quickly. Slade kept his hand on Robin's shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. "I'm not going to hurt you anymore." He paused, then added, "You're stuck here until you heal."

“…Just so you can torture me even more?”

Slade's expression hardened slightly at Robin's accusation. He leaned down closer to Robin's face "No. So I can make sure you don't die from internal bleeding or a punctured lung." His voice was low and serious. "You're an idiot, but I'm not done with you yet."

“I know you won’t let me go when I’m healed…I’m not stupid enough to hope for that. You’ll just manipulate me again and keep me under your thumb like some dog.”

Slade's eye narrowed at Robin's words, a flash of anger crossing his face. He sat back up, releasing Robin's shoulder. "And what's wrong with that?" He challenged coldly. "You're more useful to me than you are to the Titans. At least with me, you have a purpose."

“No!” Robin shouted, and managed to sit himself up despite the intense pain. “M-My friends and I keep the city safe from people like you!”

Slade watched Robin sit up, his expression unreadable. When Robin finished shouting, Slade leaned forward again, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And who keeps you safe?" His hand reached out and touched Robin's chin gently but firmly. 

“My friends, unlike you. You have no one!”

Slade's expression darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He leaned even closer, their faces inches apart. "You think I give a damn about having friends?" He growled lowly. "I have allies, soldiers, and people who fear me. That's enough for me."

Slade's grip on Robin's chin tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against Robin's skin. "You're going to stay here and heal." His voice was firm. "And when you're better, we'll see what comes next." He released Robin's chin and stood up. 

Slade walked over to the door and locked it from the inside before turning back to Robin. "I'll bring you something to eat later." He paused, then added, "Try not to die while I'm gone." With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

The room fell silent after Slade's departure. Robin was left alone, his chest heaving with each painful breath. He looked around the unfamiliar space, realizing the gravity of his situation. He tried to move again but stopped when sharp pain shot through his body.

However, Robin tried to push through the sharp pains and horrible aches. He was not going to be a sitting duck—he was going to escape.

But just as he swung to the side, he instantly fell over, not realizing his weight nor the inability to move his legs. He smacked onto his side with a yelp, instantly curling up to hold his chest.

The pain was overwhelming and nauseating, but he still tried to push himself. He’d crawl if he had to, he didn’t care how he left.

As Robin tried to crawl, his movements were slow and agonizing. He could barely lift himself off the ground, each inch forward feeling like a mile. His vision began to blur from the pain and blood loss.

He made it maybe two feet from the door before collapsing again, his chest heaving harshly.

He sat there for maybe hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. He didn’t even notice when Slade would open the door and notice him—eyes distant and pained.

Slade entered the room quietly, expecting Robin to be asleep or unconscious due to his injuries. Instead, he found him sitting on the floor, back against the wall, clearly exhausted and in immense pain. His attempts at crawling were evident from the small trail of blood stains leading from the bed. "Robin..."

Slade approached slowly, his earlier anger replaced with something else. He watched Robin's labored breathing, the pale complexion, and the bloody trail. Without a word, he suddenly scooped Robin up into his arms, ignoring Robin's weak attempts to push him away. "Idiot."

Slade carried Robin back to the bed, laying him down gently despite his harsh words. He pressed a hand firmly over Robin's wound to staunch the bleeding. "You stupid child. Trying to crawl out of here half-dead?" His voice was a harsh whisper. "Hold still."

Slade reached for some clean cloths and bandages he had stored in the room. He carefully removed his hand from Robin's wound, watching as blood seeped out again immediately. "This is going to hurt." He began to wrap the bandage tightly around Robin's torso, 

As he tightened the bandage, Slade watched Robin's face for any signs of pain. He knew it had to hurt like hell, but he also knew that if he didn't stop the bleeding soon, Robin would be in far worse shape. "Stop your damn whimpering.”

“Y-You’re the one doing this—!” Robin tried not to squirm, but the pain made him want to scream and fight. 

Slade wrapped the bandage even tighter, pressing down firmly to help with the bleeding. He watched as Robin tried to squirm and fight, his weak attempts only making the process more difficult. "Shut up and stay still, or I'll tape your fucking mouth shut."

Robin glared up at Slade, trying his hardest not to make a sound as the older man tightened the bandage around his torso. He bit his lip hard to keep from crying out, his body going stiff. He refused to give Slade the satisfaction of seeing him in pain

Slade finished wrapping the bandage and sat back, checking his work before meeting Robin's eyes. "Better?" His expression was unreadable, but his voice held a hint of something softer than before. "Don't try that shit again."

“…I’ll escape when you’re not looking…Better not leave me alone then, huh?”

Slade actually let out a low chuckle at Robin's defiance, even injured like this—fucking kid had balls. "You're not gonna escape." He moved to the other side of the bed, purposely invading Robin's personal space. "And I'm not leaving you alone."

Slade leaned down, his face inches from Robin's. His voice was low and dangerous. "I'll sleep right here, every night. You won't get a chance to crawl out of this bed without me knowing." He patted the bandage gently, checking for any bleeding through. 

“…But sleeping on a metal slab…Causes stress on the body, and the more stress the body has while injured, the slower it’ll heal…”

Slade paused, his hand still resting on Robin's bandaged torso. A flicker of realization crossed his face before he scoffed. "Smartass."

He stood up abruptly, glaring down to Robin. "Fine. You want a comfortable bed to heal in? I'll give you one." He moved over to scoop Robin up into his arms, ignoring his confused expression. "But you sleep with me."

“…Just don’t touch me like you did before…” Robin’s voice was suddenly somewhat clear, but completely serious.

He wouldn’t forget that.

Slade paused, his arms tightening briefly around Robin before continuing to leave the room and instead enter the hallway. "I won't touch you like that again unless you give me permission." His voice was sincere, almost...Gentle. "Deal?"

“…Good…”

Slade carried the boy through the cold hallway, though his body heat kept him somewhat stable. The journey was long and tiring—Slade wasn’t used to caring someone near the same weight as himself.

Once they came to what looked like a modern yet brutalist abstract living room, Slade turned to his right, and opened a door with a quick hand before pushing it open.

It was dimly lit inside—cold as well, only one bed side lamp near a lived in dip in the large mattress on the all furthest right, empty of any windows or other funishings.

Slade made his way to the unused left side of the bad and laid Robin down on it carefully, watching as he settled into the bed, his expression softening slightly.

He moved around the room, preparing things for the night—turning off lights, undressing himself, and finally climbing into bed on the opposite side from Robin. "And Robin?" He waited until Robin looked at him.

“What…” Robin answered, but didn’t turn to look at him. It hurt, but he also just didn’t want to. 

"If you need anything...Just say something, okay?" His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. He turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. But he didn't move closer to Robin, giving him space. 

"Try to sleep." He commanded softly, closing his eyes

The room was quiet for a long time, with only the sounds of their breathing filling the space. Robin stayed facing away from Slade, his back tense and his thoughts turbulent.

After a while, Slade stirred, shifting slightly beneath the blankets. "You're not even gonna look at me, huh?"

“I don’t want to see your face…I don’t want to put your actions on any human’s face…”

He went still at Robin's response, his expression darkening. He seemed to remember what he had done, and Robin was rightfully felt upset. "You see me as a monster," He murmured softly, almost to himself. "An animal." He paused, his voice dropping even lower. 

"I won't lie...I've done things that would make most people view me that way." He shifted slightly, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. "But for fuck's sake, I'm just a man. Not some -" He caught himself before saying something he might regret.

"I'm not an animal. I'm not a monster." He fell silent, his jaw clenched. He knew that his words meant nothing to Robin, not after what had happened. Not after he had been the one to do it. "Go to sleep."

The room remained silent except for the occasional rustling of blankets. Slade found himself awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering to thoughts he didn't want to have. He glanced over at Robin's still form, noting how rigid he kept himself even in sleep.

Without thinking, he carefully reached out and adjusted Robin's blanket, making sure he was covered properly. The gesture was...Gentle, almost tender. Something completely foreign to his usual demeanor. "Fuck..." He muttered to himself softly, running a hand through his hair again. "What the fuck am I..."

He withdrew his hand quickly, as if burned. What was he doing? Being nice to the kid who hated him? The kid he had hurt so badly? It made no sense.

"Sleep," He growled quietly to himself, turning onto his side facing away from Robin. "Just fucking sleep..."

Morning would come after long, agonizing hours, and Slade found himself wide awake, staring at the wall again. He hadn't moved all night, giving Robin space. He watched the younger boy carefully—his back was rigid, his body tense even in sleep. He was a light sleeper, ready for an attack at any moment. 

Robin stirred slightly, waking up. For a moment, he remained still, his back to Slade. Then, he slowly sat up, his movements careful and measured. He didn't look at Slade, didn't acknowledge his presence at all. 

Slade watched closely. Robin acted like he wasn't there. Like he was alone in the room. He saw how careful he was moving, how he favored his left side slightly. He also saw the bruises that were now darker, spread across his back and ribs. He gritted his teeth…

Robin reached for his clothes, still not looking at Slade. He moved slowly, wincing slightly as he pulled on his shirt. Slade watched him closely, seeing the way Robin avoided certain movements that would hurt more than others. He saw how careful he was not to make any noise...

However, Robin once again tried to stand up on his own, and smacked the floor harshly again. He didn’t yelp like before, but there was a definite whimper of something from him.

It was soft, almost inaudible. Like a wounded animal trying not to make a noise so the predators wouldn't find it. He watched as Robin tried to stand up straight again, his legs unable to support him.

Slade's expression darkened. He saw the way Robin was trying to hide his pain, trying to act like everything was fine. It was infuriating. And...Something else. Something he didn't want to acknowledge. 

"For fuck's sake," He muttered under his breath, throwing off his blanket. 

He moved over to Robin quickly, wrapping an arm around his waist to support him. He was gentler than he had been the previous night, but his grip was still firm. He pulled Robin against his side, helping him stay upright. "You're not fucking walking on your own," He growled, his voice low. "Not like this."

“…Why did you have to paralyze me?” Robin squeaked, his hands grabbing onto Slade almost desperately, not wanting to fall again.

Slade heard the desperation in Robin's voice, the way he was gripping onto him like a lifeline. He felt a strange twisting sensation in his chest. But he ignored it, focusing on Robin's question instead. "I’m going to lay you back down, just stay still.”

“Answer me!” His hands tightened on his sides harshly, his voice now tinged with anger.

Slade paused, his arm tightening around Robin's waist. He hated that tone of voice. He hated the way Robin was looking at him, like he was the enemy. He hated the way his hands were gripping onto him like he was going to disappear if he let go.

"Because you wouldn't fucking stop talking back," He snapped, his tone laced with frustration. "You think I enjoyed breaking your ribs? You think I get off on hearing you cry?" His hand moved to Robin's wrist, prying his fingers off his side.

“I think you do…I really think you do…”

Slade's grip on Robin's wrist tightened, his thumb pressing into the soft skin just below the bone. He could feel the rapid pulse there, the way it fluttered like a bird trapped in a cage.

"You don't know shit," He growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Maybe I don’t, but you never give me a clear answer on anything…”

Slade's hand suddenly moved from Robin's wrist to his throat, gripping gently but firmly enough to get his attention. "Shut up." His face was inches away from Robin's, their breaths mingling uncomfortably close. "Just shut the fuck up before I really give you something to complain about."

Robin kept his eyes shut, refusing to look up at him. His hands held Slade’s wrist—not freeing himself, knowing it was futile.

Slade stared down at Robin, his hand still wrapped around the younger man's throat. He watched as Robin refused to look up at him, his eyes staying closed tightly. It pissed him off, that stubbornness. That refusal to back down even when he was clearly outmatched.

Slade growled, but moved his hand back to Robin’s side, grabbing him and almost tossing him back onto the bed.

Robin landed on the bed with a soft thud, his body sinking into the mattress. He let out a small, pained noise as his ribs protested the sudden movement. Slade loomed over him, his eyes dark with anger and something else—something Robin refused to acknowledge.

He turned and stepped away, moving to instead get himself dressed first. If Robin didn’t want to see his true face, then why force it?

Slade pulled on his black t-shirt, the fabric stretching across his muscular chest. "I'm getting you water. Don't fucking move." He turned to face Robin briefly, just long enough to see him lying there, vulnerable and hurting. Then he walked to the bathroom’s sink.

Slade filled a glass with water, his movements sharp and precise. He gave Robin a moment to breathe without the intensity of his presence looming over him. When he turned back, he saw Robin hadn't moved an inch, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Slade walked back over, the glass of water in hand. He knelt down beside the bed, his movements careful as he reached out to gently lift the back of Robin's head near his neck. Without a word, he held the glass to his lips, forcing him to drink. The cold water hit Robin's dry throat harshly.

Robin choked on the water, coughing weakly. His throat felt like it was on fire, and every cough sent sharp pains through his ribs. He tried to push the glass away, but Slade held it firm, continuing to pour the water down his throat until the glass was empty. "Drink it."

Once the glass was empty, Slade pulled it away, his eyes never leaving Robin's face. He watched as Robin coughed and spluttered, his body shaking with the effort. He set the glass down on the bedside table with a thud, then stood up, his voice softer but still rough.

"You need to rest." Slade's voice was a low rumble, his tone carrying an unexpected note of concern. He moved to adjust Robin's position on the bed, making sure his ribs were supported by pillows. "And stop being such a stubborn little shit."

“…N-No…”

Slade paused, his hands still on Robin's pillows as he frowned at the weak denial. "What did you say?" His tone turned dangerously soft again, his hand moving to press gently—almost threateningly—against Robin's injured side. "Try saying that again and see what happens."

Robin brought his hands over his eyes, feeling a bout of embarrassment start in his chest.

Eventually, he squeaked, “R-Restroom…”

Slade's frown deepened at Robin's request, his hand pressing slightly harder against his ribs for a moment before he pulled it away. "You're fucking kidding me," he muttered under his breath. He stood up straight, looking down at Robin with a scowl. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

“…Just don’t look at me while I’m there…”

Slade watched as Robin hid his face again, his cheeks reddening slightly. He got the picture—the boy was embarrassed easily. He scowled, unamused. "Jesus. I won't look, you baby."

He scooped Robin up by his side, holding him close as he carried him to the restroom.

Once they finished, Slade brought him back out, and laid him out again. Robin looked completely embarrassed, but it was inevitable if he was paralyzed like this.

He hid his eyes behind his arms, trying to hide his expression and calm himself down.

Slade watched Robin's attempt at hiding his face, amusement flickering across his features despite his usual stern expression. "For fuck's sake..." He muttered softly, then reached out and forcibly moved Robin's arms down. "Stop being such a little kid."

Robin's attempt at burying himself failed as Slade pushed his arms down firmly. "You're injured, not dead." His voice carried a mixture of exasperation and something almost...Gentle. He reached for the blanket, pulling it up and tucking it around Robin carefully.

Slade sat back on the edge of the bed, his eyes lingering on the boy's face. He could see the embarrassment still lingering in Robin's cheeks, and something inside him softened. "Look at me," he commanded softly, his voice no longer harsh but firm. "Robin."

Robin slowly lifted his head, his eyes meeting Slade's. They were still slightly red and embarrassed, but he wasn't hiding his face anymore. Slade felt an unfamiliar urge to...Take care of him. To make the embarrassment go away.

Without thinking too much about it, Slade reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of Robin's face. His fingers lingered on the boy's cheek for a moment longer than necessary. "Shut up and rest," he said gruffly, "Before I actually do something embarrassing.”

Robin's eyes widened slightly at the gentle touch, surprised by the sudden softness. He watched as Slade's fingers lingered on his cheek, before being pulled away.

He blushed even harder at the last comment, looking away at his left with a sneer. "S-Shut up..."

Slade's lips twitched with amusement at Robin's snappy response and sudden blush. He leaned back, crossing his arms as he watched the boy try to act tough despite his current state. "I'm serious," he warned, "Keep arguing and I'll do something really embarrassing."

Robin's blush deepened at Slade's warning, his heart racing in his chest. He opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything, Slade suddenly leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to his lips.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” Robin suddenly shouted, shoving him away harshly. He would have used his legs if I could, but he had no control.

Slade's eyes widened in surprise at Robin's sudden outburst and violent reaction. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, leaning back to give the boy some space. "Alright, alright!" he said calmly, his voice steady despite the unexpected response. "Jesus Christ, calm down."

Slade watched as Robin struggled against his paralysis, trying to push him away with his arms. His voice dropped lower, more serious. "Stop it," he snapped, "I was just fucking with you!” He reached out again but paused when Robin flinched away. 

Robin's eyes flashed with anger and humiliation. He hated being touched right now, especially when he couldn’t defend himself. “FUCK OFF!!” He screamed loudly, tears forming in his eyes. “GET AWAY FROM ME!!”

Slade froze at the sudden scream, his eye widening at the sight of tears welling up in Robin's eyes. He felt a pang of guilt and concern, realizing he'd pushed too far.

Slowly, he raised his hands in surrender. He stood up abruptly, putting distance between them. He watched Robin cry silently, his shoulders shaking with each shuddering breath.

He felt like an asshole. He'd meant to tease the boy, to get a rise out of him, but he hadn't expected such a violent reaction. Now Robin was crying, and it was all his fault. He knew he should say something, do something to make this better, but he wasn't exactly great with emotional situations.

"Goddamnit..." Slade muttered softly, watching Robin hide his face with his arms. He wasn't crying loudly, just silent tears that Slade could barely see. He knew he should leave the boy alone, but he also knew that Robin had issues with being touched right now.

Slade hesitated for a long moment, then slowly sat back down on the bed. He kept his distance, not touching Robin, but close enough that he could speak softly to him. "Robin..." He paused, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to...Push you like that."

“…You’re just trying to get under my skin. Trying to make me feel bad so I’ll work with you…”

Slade's expression softened slightly, realizing that Robin was trying to put up a wall. He leaned back against the headboard, giving Robin plenty of space. "Maybe I am," he admitted, his voice low and honest. "But did you really need to react like that?"

“YOU’VE DONE HORRIBLE THINGS ME! YOU THINK I WOULDN’T?!”

Slade watched the anger snap back into Robin's eyes. He tightened his jaw, realizing that the boy was probably right. He'd done horrible things. He'd hurt kids like Robin before.

He was an idiot to expect anything less than a violent reaction when he touched the boy unannounced.

“And why make up to me and not Raven, or Terra? You’ve treated them just as badly! Even worse even!”

Slade felt a pang of guilt at Robin's words. He knew he'd been harder on Robin than the others, even though he'd also been cruel to Raven and Terra. "Because you're the only one who fights back," he said honestly, his voice low. "You're the only one who stands up to me."

“Then why don’t you visit them now and see how they ‘won’t fight back’…”

Slade looked away, knowing that Robin was right. He didn't visit Raven or Terra like this, didn't push their buttons or try to get a reaction out of them. He only did that with Robin. Because Robin was the only one who ever stood up to him.

Slade thought hard, his expression unreadable. He knew he was an asshole, but he realized something else too—He may have touched Raven or Terra without warning like he did with Robin. He may have tried to kiss them unannounced or push their boundaries like this. But only with Robin did it feel satisfying to him…

Slade's eye narrowed slightly as he processed this realization. He'd never considered it before, how different it felt pushing Robin's buttons versus doing the same with Raven or Terra.

Slade suddenly leaned forward, his face inches from Robin's despite the boy's flinch. His voice dropped to a low, intense whisper. "You know what I just realized?" He paused, his gaze intense and unsettling. "I only do this with you because I like your reactions."

“…So you admit what you did to them!”

He stood up from the bed abruptly, his hands curled with frustration. "Yes, I fucking admit it! You happy now?" He knew he'd hurt them too, but seeing how Robin crumbled under his touch—his fire and fury...It did something to Slade.

He brought both hands to his head, pacing back and forth in the room. "I treated them like shit too, okay? I've pushed their boundaries, tried to fuck with their heads. But never..." he turned to face Robin again, his voice softer. "Never like this. Never with this...Intensity. Never where it felt satisfying to break you down."

He watched Robin's face pale, realizing he was being completely honest for once. "Only with you, Robin. Only you make me want to push until you snap."

Robin was quiet, still panting softly as he thought for a moment on what to say back.“…Is it because I fight back? Or because I was a boy?” He muttered while he asked.

Slade's pacing stopped abruptly at Robin's question. He looked at the young man, his expression unreadable. "Both," he said bluntly. "You fight back harder than anyone else. And yes...Because you were a boy."

“…If I ever get out of here…I’m going to tell Raven and Terra about this…And everyone whatever you tell me…” Robin hardened his expression, glaring harshly.

Slade watched Robin's expression harden with threat. He knew the boy would do it too—He'd tell everyone how much of an asshole Slade was. How he'd sexually assaulted him, touched him without warning, tried to kiss him...He'd tell them all of it.

Slade's lips curled into a smirk, not out of amusement, but out of respect for Robin's defiance. He knew he deserved every bit of the wrath that would come his way if Robin told everyone.

”You do that," he said, his voice low and steady. He walked closer to the bed again, his movements deliberate and controlled. “Tell them everything," he whispered intensely. "Tell Raven how I touched you without permission. Tell Terra how I tried to kiss those perfect lips." He reached out suddenly, grabbing Robin's chin roughly. "But..."

"...Know this," His thumb traced Robin's bottom lip possessively. "When you tell them all these things, know that I did them because you're the first person—the only person, who's ever gotten under my skin this way." His grip became gentler, almost tender. “I never hurt them as much as I had you…”

He searched Robin's face, his own expression a complex mix of anger, frustration, and something softer, almost like regret. His thumb brushed Robin's lip once more before he released the boy's chin abruptly and stepped back.

“…You’ll just do the same shit to me, won’t you?” Robin lowered his head before looking away with a sneer. “It doesn’t matter that I’m paralyzed…Just an easier target, huh?”

At Robin's words, Slade froze. "Robin..." His expression softened, almost with concern or shock. “…I-I’ve changed since then. I won’t be doing that to you anymore.”

“Is it because I’m too old now? You’d rather someone younger to prey on?” Robin hissed, his body tensing as if about to strike, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. 

Slade's eyes widened in shock and anger at Robin's accusation. He took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "You think that's what this is? That I'm some fucking pedophile who only goes after kids?"

“I was 16, so yeah, I’d assume so.”

Slade's face darkened with rage. "I wasn't going after kids!" He shouted, his hands clenched into fists. "I went after you because you were...You!" He took a deep breath trying to calm himself. "And yes...You're older now. But that doesn’t mean your personality isn’t appealing to me anymore…"

Slade's chest heaved with each breath, his anger slowly subsiding. He looked at Robin, his eyes searching for any sign of understanding or forgiveness. "I won't deny that I was attracted to you when you were younger. But it wasn't because you were a kid."

His voice dropped to almost a whisper, his next words carefully chosen. "It was because you were smart, quick-witted, brave...And fucking beautiful. Those things don’t disappear just because you hit 18." He swallowed hard. "And frankly...Mature Robin is hot too."

Slade took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "I want you, Robin. All of you. The smart mouth, the stubborn attitude, the gorgeous face...And that sexy as hell body." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind Robin's ear. “I’m just glad you’re the same as you were—willing to fight and not holding back…”

Robin's heart raced as Slade's fingers lingered near his ear. He could feel the warmth of Slade's breath and the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, he was transported back to those intense moments they shared years ago.

"Fuck off!" Robin would suddenly snap, pushing Slade's hand away roughly, and sharpening his shoulders like a panther ready to strike.

Slade's eyebrows shot up at Robin's reaction, but he didn't back down. Instead, he took the verbal blow with a smirk. "There it is," he murmured, his voice low and amused. "The mouth I missed so much."

Slade leaned in closer, his face inches away from Robin's. "You know," he whispered, his lips brushing against Robin's ear. "Every time you push me away, it just makes me want to pull you closer." His hand came up to grip Robin's hip possessively. "It's like...A challenge."

Robin suddenly sat up, slamming his fist directly into Slade’s masked face, knocking him back surprisingly well for being so weak now.

Slade stumbled back from the force of the punch, more surprised than hurt. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked at Robin with newfound respect and arousal.

“I want you to leave me alone now…If you ‘care’ like you supposedly say.”

Slade touched his masked face where Robin had punched him, the smile never leaving his lips. He looked at Robin for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Fine," he said finally, his voice calm. "I'll leave you alone...For now."

Slade turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty room. But as he reached the door, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "But know this, Robin," he said, his voice low and intense. "I'm not giving up on you."

A day would pass, and Robin would actually stay in place on Slade’s bed, unable to move anyways.

Slade would come feed him occasionally, but the day passed rather boringly.