Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans
A/N: Sladin muse hits at 2AM. One-Shot. If you are disturbed by implied sex, drug use, and self-harm, please don't read this. That said, enjoy ~~
Things didn't turn out the way he planned.
Robin had entered in the apprenticeship unwillingly, Slade knew that. But even so, he had not expected how frustrating the boy wonder would prove to be. He fought, screamed, did everything possible to get on Slade's nerves. And although he was a patient man, the mercenary could only stand so much.
In the beginning, all Slade did was bruise him. Twist his arm, throw him against the wall. Little, minor punishments. But as Robin's rebellious spirit grew, Slade resorted to more drastic measures. Whipping, beating … and finally, torture. After a while, Robin was just a toy that he could take out his anger on.
The boy was lying naked on the cement floor, curled up and shaking. The fingers that Slade had crushed underneath his boot the day before had swollen twice its size, four sticks of black, blue and red. Like Spiderman, Robin thought. Black spiders, crawling up a red and blue web, onto his fingers, biting them, injecting their venom, sucking on his blood, and then making baby spiders to crawl onto his fingers too. Eventually they would cover him, and he would die –
His thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the door. Heavy boots stomped over, and Robin pressed himself further into the corner, as if he could blend in with the shadows. The footsteps stopped. He closed his eyes. He knew what was coming.
Slade bent down and grabbed the boy roughly by the hand. Robin tried to scream, but all that came out was a choked sound, followed by a wheezing cough. His lungs had been damaged a week ago, and the boy could no longer take a full breath. And by the way Slade crushed his fingers, he would never regain full use of his hands again.
"Pathetic." Slade sneered, standing back up. "But you know how to make yourself even more pathetic, don't you?"
Robin looked up at him, shaking with need. "P-Please.. it h-hurts.." he whispered through chapped lips. His whole body trembled, despite how it was hurting him to do so.
Slade watched him silently. Relentlessly. Robin got up onto his knees, gasping in pain. Weakly, he sat back down on his haunches and made a fist with his still intact right hand.
Thud. A soft sound was heard as Robin hit himself in the jaw. His other bruised hand came up and slapped the other side of his face. Thud. Smack. Thud. Smack. Slade watched him silently, sneering under the mask. The boy could no longer be his apprentice, he was far too broken. But ... that didn't mean he was useless. And Slade wasn't one to throw things away.
"Stop." Robin immediately stopped and looked up at him, red rimming the once blue eyes that had been revealed a long time ago. An unsettling emptiness filled them, as if there was no one there anymore. Slade took a needle from his pouch and inserted it into Robin's arm, which were filled with track marks from previous injections. Robin closed his eyes in ecstasy as the heroin soothed his pain-wracked nerves. No longer in hurting, Robin collapsed to the ground and breathed in, smiling.
Slade watched the process, an idea forming in his mind. It had always been tempting of course, but this path couldn't exist with a functioning Robin. Of course, now that there was barely a mind inside that body ... He took two more needles out of his pouch. One was a sedative, the other a healing serum. Bending down, he injected them into Robin, who by that time, was so far gone he barely noticed a thing, even when his swollen fingers started to deflate and revert to their normal color.
Picking up the unconscious boy, Slade made his way toward his bedroom, the one with black satin sheets. He put Robin down on the bed, then pulled a silver chain out of the drawer and cuffed Robin's ankle to the bedpost. Beneath the mask, Slade smiled. Such a pretty little birdy ... and he was all his.
When Robin woke up, he immediately jumped out of bed at Slade, but crashed into the floor awkwardly when the chain pulled him back.
Slade got up from the chair he was sitting in and picked up Robin, gently setting him on the bed. Stroking the matted black hair, he reached up with his other hand and unclipped the mask.
Bending down to place his lips against the other's ear, Slade whispered, "I've decided to make you work for it." Oh yes. Robin- no, his toy was going to make himself very useful.
For Robin, it didn't matter. All that he cared about anymore was the next dose.