Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or any of its affiliates.

Wrecked

Robin carefully adjusted the spiked mask over his eyes, vigilant not to let any emotions slip past his stony exterior. Yesterday, he had watched his friends being tortured on his behalf, screaming as the pain from Slade's tiny nanites filled them. Then, he was forced to add to it, firing at his comrades in the hope he could save them. His hatred for Slade permeated every fiber of his being, fueling him with a nearly inexhaustible supply of energy. Every second of every day, he thought about nothing but the best way to wring the life from the villain's body. He realized his hands were trembling in anger and took a deep breath, a warrior who is not calm is one who is dead. He briefly wondered if he had learned that from Bruce.

When Slade had sneered that Robin might come to think of him as a father eventually, it had taken all of the boy wonder's self control to keep the bile down, instead spitting out, "I already have a father." The sixteen year old thought ruefully back to those days, trying not to imagine the disappointed look on Batman's face at how far Robin had fallen. His hands had involuntarily balled into fists and again, he had to force another lungful of air. When he heard Slade's heavy footsteps, he resolved not to speak a single word. If he was to be treated like a slave, then that's all Slade would get out of him, nothing more.

"Ah, sharply dressed, I see. My colors suit you, Apprentice." Robin stood in front of a full length mirror that reflected his orange and black clad appearance. The stylized 'S' on his chest made him so angry it almost hurt, so he ignored it, just like Slade's hand resting on his shoulder. The criminal leaned in, putting his face so close to Robin that he could feel the heat from his breath through the slits in his mask. "But I think no colors would suit you better, dear boy."

Repulsed by the direction the conversation was going, Robin jerked his shoulder, knocking Slade's hand off. Without warning, the older man spun around, bringing his steel heeled boot in direct contact with the boy wonder's jaw in a sonic hook kick, knocking the teenager to the ground nearly three feet away. Robin's head spun as he cracked his jaw back into place and flipped to his feet. Combat was infinitely preferable to whatever Slade might have in mind.

For the next few minutes, they traded blows as usual, flipping and kicking at one another until both were panting. In a sudden flurry of strikes, Slade pinned Robin face down under him, folding his arm painfully against his back. Robin thought his shoulder might dislocate, so he remained compliantly still. With his other hand, he snuck to his belt and clasped one of the s-shaped boomerangs, ready to move the instant he got the chance. Slade laid his weight on him to hold him down, and his arousal suddenly became apparent to the boy wonder. Robin fought back a wretch. When the criminal rolled, bringing Robin with him, the he threw the piece of metal behind him, aiming as best he could for the older man's mask.

Unfortunately, because they were so close, Slade could feel his movements and easily avoided the projectile, moving so it zipped harmlessly away. He rolled Robin face down again and ground his arm further into his shoulder blades for the insolence as the metal clanged among the antiquated iron rafters. Just before Robin could think up his next escape strategy, they were completely surrounded by darkness and quiet. A bright spark flashed from the direction the metal boomerang had disappeared, and both of them knew it had somehow shorted the entire building. There was no noise from the ever turning gears and even the floor to ceiling monitors had gone black. It was so dark that neither one of them could see anything, not even an outline. Slade could hardly contain his excitement.

"So you want my mask off, do you?" he asked, pulling the metal off his head. He felt Robin shudder under him at the sound of it being placed on the ground and bent down to rub his face against the teenager's cheek. He shuddered again, much to Slade's pleasure.

When Robin felt the uneven and mangled skin against his cheek, he panicked. He struggled against Slade with all his effort, using the strength born of adrenalin to try to get out of his grip. That didn't work, however, because the more Robin resisted, the more pleasure, and strength it brought to Slade. Soon, the older man was grinding his hips against the teenager, fumbling to simultaneously hold Robin down and undo the boy wonder's belt. Finding it too difficult, he raised his elbow and slammed it down onto Robin's exposed temple, temporarily stunning the young man. Moving quickly, Slade pulled his own pants off and straddled Robin, savoring how he tensed under him, trying to prepare.

Robin was seeing stars after that elbow strike and by the time the bells stopped ringing in his head, he realized he could feel the cool air on his legs and backside. He heard Slade spit and involuntarily tensed, completely unprepared for what he knew was coming. There was no violation worse than this that Robin could think of. Slade had already taken his friends, his freedom, his reputation and his self respect, and now he was taking his dignity and intimate privacy. True to his nature, he fought the maniac by tensing up, refusing to allow him in. There was no way he would ever permit this. He felt Slade against him and bit his tongue to keep from vomiting on the spot.

Slade pushed against him only once before he lost his patience, forcing him to use the one thing that would make Robin obey. He pulled the cylindrical remote from his belt and caressed the teenager's thigh with the cold metal, making him jump. "Do you know what I hold in my hand, Apprentice?" he asked in a sultry tone. When Robin didn't respond, he followed the contour of his arm in the dark and closed his hand around Robin's, keeping the remote trigger between their palms. Robin stiffened in understanding and relaxed, growling low in his throat. Slade had won again. Robin clamped his jaw shut to prevent a cry from escaping as his enemy slid inside him.

Driven nearly mad with desire, Slade couldn't stop a moan. It was so good, and Robin was so tight; he could barely stand the pleasure and had to hold perfectly still to keep from ending it right there. He had watched and followed and tormented the young man for so long, it was like finding water in the desert. His entire body sang the pleasure of it all, the physical gratification, the moral corruption, but most sweet was the intimate victory over Robin he had been working toward for so long. He waited a few dizzying moments before he realized Robin was trembling under him. Eager to get on with it, Slade began to move his hips slowly, relishing the gasp of pain from his apprentice.

Robin was burning with shame. He had dealt with many criminals before, but none of them had ever defeated him this badly. He could not think of anything worse than what was happening to him now, no more personal a violation. He would never, ever tell anyone about this and if he just hung on a little longer, it would be over. The pain had been steadily growing and now it was reaching the white hot point. Robin squeezed his eyes shut and just let his tears fall, grateful for the complete darkness. Just a little longer…

Slade could tell he was getting near the end, and he wanted it to be good. He said, "That wasn't so bad, was it dear boy?" He stopped moving and leaned over, "Now I shall give you all of me." Slade began to thrust forward, giving Robin his entire length instead of just half as he had been until now.

Robin gritted his teeth against the pain, how could there be more to him? As he went deeper and deeper, Robin felt like he was going to split it half. He drew in a ragged breath and spoke for the first time that day, "S-Slade…p-please don't…"

For the older man, Robin's desperate plea was the last straw. He felt his body begin to react and sank himself in to the hilt. Robin's scream echoed through the silent room, mixed with Slade's cry of pleasure. When silence descended on the them once again, Slade lay panting on top of the teenager for a moment before extracting himself and rolling off. Robin stayed right where he was, not able to move after what had just happened. He listened to his vile, hated enemy's footsteps fade away, and then gingerly sat up. When he did, Slade's remnants spilled out. That was it, Robin immediately threw up the contents of his stomach, hard.

In the complete darkness, Robin crawled to the bathroom, fell into the tub and turned the shower on as hot as he could stand it. He sat with his knees to his chest shivering uncontrollably in the rising steam. He felt like a car wreck, completely destroyed. The lives of his friends were worth any amount of suffering Slade might subject him to, but someday, he was going to kill that bastard.

The End