Ten reviews. Not bad, not bad…
Not great either, but we'll live.
I don't have much to say here; except that Narroch06 and I will laugh at any flames complaining about the ending. :) This is the final part, and perhaps the part you have all been anticipating the most; the chapter which focuses on Slade. Ah yes, everybody's favorite one-eyed madman… Despite his status as the Uber-villain on Teen Titans, I don't think I have ever come across one person who doesn't actually like him…
Oh, and all Starfire-haters can rejoice, because…
Anyway, Narroch06 and I now present to you the third and final chapter of Love Over Gold, known simply as:
Full Circle - Slade
He had not stopped him.
Robin blinked once, slowly, as he continued to gaze up at the ceiling. He heaved a sigh, his thin ribcage drawing right in with the heaviness of it. He swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly moving in his pale throat. He grunted and obediently titled his head to the side as Slade nudged at his neck.
Still fully-clothed, he lay spread-eagled on the bed (the same one on which he had been lying this whole time) with his master on top of him, pinning him there. His mask removed, Slade was attacking his neck, passionately and heatedly devouring it.
Robin simply ignored him and his actions, staring listlessly up at the dark ceiling.
He had not stopped him.
A few feet away, on the floor of the bedroom, out of the narrow, dim light of the single lamp, Starfire lay in a similar listless fashion to her former lover.
The difference was that Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran had a knife jutting straight up from her stomach, the blade submerged up to the hilt within her lovely body. Blood soaked and darkened her purple uniform, typical of the Tamaranean race.
Her green eyes were wide and staring, her mouth open in the scream that had fled her lungs as Slade had plunged the knife into her.
Robin had not stopped him. He had sat up in one sudden movement, his hand outstretched. He had cried the alien girl's name, only for his desperate, agonized cry to be drowned by her heart-rending scream as she had died.
But he had not stopped Slade. Words did not have that kind of power.
He could only be glad that she had not suffered. She had died almost instantly. Slade had kicked her, sending the knife spinning from her hand as he caught her by surprise. As she had staggered backwards, Slade had grasped the knife, plucking it from the air, and came at her. She had looked up, her eyes blazing, two starbolts at the ready in her hands-
And he had stabbed her. Right beneath the ribcage, the length and angle of the blade reaching her heart. The starbolts in her hands and eyes had flickered out and died, she had screamed, and then tumbled to the floor and simply ceased to be.
Robin had called her name. But he had not stopped Slade from killing her.
He could have. He could have leapt up and kicked the knife out of Slade's hand. He could maybe have landed a good strong kick or two, by which point Starfire would have recovered and come soaring back for Round Two.
Together, they could have beaten him. They could have beaten him mercilessly into the ground and walked out hand in hand. No doubt, even after she had come all the way here in a blinding rage just to kill him, had he leapt to her rescue and fought alongside her, she would have accepted him into her arms with no question.
But he hadn't.
He had known Slade was going to kill her. Before she had even turned up tonight, he had known that this would be the end. She would kill him, or Slade would kill her.
She had tumbled to the floor, in the exact position in which she still lay, having had her short life brought to an abrupt end not even fifteen minutes ago.
And Robin had fallen back too, flopping back onto the bed in his spread-eagle, every last scrap of emotion he still had now abandoning him completely. That last act – the fulfillment of Slade's terrible promise – had caused his entire inner core to just up and leave, there and then. Even his tear-ducts seemed to have run dry, for not even a single tear welled in his eyes. He simply lay back and looked at the ceiling, as though the answer to his predicament was written up there.
Slade had dusted his hands together and stepped over Starfire and lazily made his way over to the bed. Robin had not been remotely interested in him, even when he lay down beside him, his arms folded across his chest. For a few minutes they had lain like that, side by side on the bed, Robin sprawled out and consumed by the emptiness that was storming through him, Slade smiling beneath his mask, sighing contentedly. That was one less thing to worry about…
Robin had let out a squeak of discomfort as Slade had then rolled over and got on top of him, his substantial weight on his small chest making it hard for him to breathe. Ignoring him, Slade had pulled off his mask and thrown it aside, beginning to kiss Robin's neck.
The ritual had not progressed much. There was licking and biting now too, which was more than there had been five minutes ago, but otherwise…
Had Robin any emotion left within him, anger would have surged through him at this point. Slade was treating him with such disrespect, and treating Starfire's death with less than that. He had just murdered the girl Robin had loved – who, regardless of his sexual feelings, was still one of his best friends – and now he had not only walked nonchalantly past her body, he also seemed to think it was perfectly alright for him to claim Robin for himself all over again. He did not try to comfort him. He did not even say that he was in the slightest bit sorry; indeed he showed no indication, spoken or unspoken, of it at all.
He simply used it as an invitation to take Robin for himself.
Once that would have made him angry. Not now. He did not have the capacity for anger any more.
Slade moved to his mouth, kissing him fleetingly. They were short, ravenous little kisses, touching lips in the same way that mating butterflies occasionally bump carelessly into one another at the height of their dizzy sexually-charged flight. Slade's kisses were rough and passionate, near-painful.
Still Robin did not react.
"You seem… unhappy…" Slade whispered, his lips moving against Robin's. He kissed him again, savoring the sweet taste of him. "Something troubles you, Robin?"
Following another steamy kiss, Robin averted his eyes from the ceiling and looked right into his master's single eye.
"No," he whispered hoarsely, forcing himself to speak. "I'm fine. Everything is… just fine…"
Another kiss.
"Excellent…" Slade continued to gaze piercingly down at him. "Then you will have the energy to kiss back, I presume?..."
His tone was dangerous but for all that Robin had been through, Slade did not frighten him. Not anymore. He had seen too much; learnt too much about him to fear him anymore.
Slade's lips pressed to his again and again Robin remained listless and lazy, letting Slade do all the work. Furious, Slade bit him, blood spilling from his bottom lip. Salty copper filled Robin's mouth and he near-choked, pushing at Slade until he finally released him.
"Unless you want to go the same way as her," Slade spat, roughly wiping his mouth on his wrist, "you will do as you are told, Robin!"
Wiping his mouth too, Robin gazed petulantly up at him.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said calmly.
Slade's mouth twisted into a wry knowing smile.
"That is because, dear Robin, I have given you no real reason to fear me," he whispered, his lips pressing against Robin's once more. "You obeyed me out of fear for the girl's life, never your own, because you knew – you have always known – that I have no real desire to harm you. But believe me, now that she is out of the equation… well, I may need another threat to keep you in line. Rest assured that it will be your neck on the block this time around. Unless… you wish for another of your dear little friends to meet their maker at your expense…"
Shock-that-had-not-quite-yet-fled-him surged in. His selfishness had led to Starfire's death not even twenty minutes ago. He would not be responsible for Raven's death too, or Cyborg's, or Beast Boy's…
"No!" He said hurriedly as Slade broke from him once again. "No, I'll… I'll do what you say… Just… no more of them… Please, no more…"
"Of course, my Robin…"
Enjoying the familiar pattern that blackmail always dictated on Robin's actions.
Their lips touched again and Robin opened his mouth in invitation. Slade took it, grasping roughly behind Robin's head. As usual, Slade was really hurting him, and as usual, his pained squeaks and pants were ignored. Slade's weight was crushing between his legs, which was starting to become extremely painful.
Pain. The one feeling that had not left him.
Slade broke from him with a gasp some five minutes later, needing to come up for air. Beneath him, Robin panted hard, pushing against Slade's chest.
"You're hurting me," he wailed pensively. Slade made an irritated noise and shifted off him.
Robin lay on his back, breathing hard, tasting blood pooling in his mouth again; and then, taking advantage of his sudden freedom, he sat up and got off the bed. Wiping his mouth again, he began to walk away.
"Where are you going now?" Slade asked him tetchily, rolling over onto his stomach and resting his head on his folded arms. Slade hated Robin going into one of these pensive, quiet moods. He was utterly intolerable to deal with.
"Robin!" Slade called after him, his voice taking on a decidedly-dangerous tone. "Don't ignore me!"
Robin did exactly that, crouching down in his white cotton T-shirt and worn black jeans at least a size too big for him. He kept having to hitch them up at the waist and he refused to wear a belt. Slade did not force him; it just made it easier for him to get his pants down. But Robin crouched next to Starfire, then knelt, bending deeply over her. One hand grasped the hilt of the knife and his shoulders shook and tears suddenly returned to him as he began to sob. Not even looking, his other hand reached out, closing Starfire's eyes and screaming mouth before death could freeze her that way. At once she looked more peaceful, although still in a lot of pain. His other hand went to the hilt too.
"Robin, come here," Slade ordered. Robin quivered, choking and sobbing, and then shook his head.
"Now, Robin!"
Again Robin shook his head.
"You insolent little fucker…" Slade hissed at him, out of his ear-shot.
Furious, Slade got up off the bed in one sudden movement, grasping his mask in one hand. He put it back on as he moved towards the sobbing boy. Robin looked up, saw him coming and got to his feet, darting away.
Slade approached him threateningly, bending down as he swept past Starfire and jerked the knife from her body. Robin backed up against the far wall of the room, his back right up to a mirror, his masked eyes wide with fright.
That too had suddenly returned to him.
His neck on the block now.
Slade wiped the blood from the blade off on the palm of his hand as he advanced upon Robin, slipping the knife itself into his belt. He grasped the front of Robin's shirt and wiped Starfire's blood down his face, getting it in his hair and deliberately forcing two fingers into his mouth so that he would be sure to get the taste of it.
"Taste your betrayal of them, Robin," he hissed maliciously. "Taste what you did to her…"
Robin pulled his head free, his tears washing away Starfire's blood where it was on his cheeks.
"Don't!" He choked. "Please…"
Angered by his pleading, Slade grasped him roughly around the throat, slamming him against the mirror behind him.
"You did this!" He spat. "So don't beg or plead with me, Robin. Remember that you did this…"
"I didn't… didn't kill her…" Robin squeaked, struggling with Slade's strong hand at his neck.
"You as good as did it yourself," Slade hissed in response. "You knew of my promise. You knew what would happen, and yet you did nothing. You did not stop me… you just lay there. You let me kill her, Robin. You could have stopped me, and yet you chose not to. So I would say you have a partial responsibility for her death, if not all…"
"That's not true…" Robin sobbed. "I couldn't… couldn't have stopped you…"
Fury bursting forth again within him with all the force of a volcano, Slade banged Robin against the mirror again, knocking his senses offline for a second, and then threw him to the floor, where he landed in a heap next to Starfire. Quivering, Robin sat up.
"Slade, please—"
Slade whirled to face him, smashing the mirror with his fist in a punch that swung with the momentum of his movement. Robin gasped and shrank back, his eyes wide with fright.
It seemed that his emotions leaving him had only been a temporary condition.
"Don't you ever plead with me again!" Slade screamed at him, his single grey flashing with the fire of hell. "You will beg for nothing from me, Robin; nothing but sweet release!"
He stormed past him, so angry that he knew he should get himself away from Robin before he killed him as well.
"Slade…" Robin reached for him, kneeling up, as he passed.
Ignoring him, Slade threw open the door to his quarters and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Robin's hand dropped and he collapsed across Starfire's body, burying his face in her chest (Ample as it was. And growing cold now),and sobbed and sobbed.
For her. For himself.
For him.
He had not stopped him.
Robin would not accept responsibility for what he had done. That he had, in effect, killed Starfire. Even if Slade himself had done the actual physical killing…
Was it because he was so stone-hearted that he could not understand why Robin was so upset? He had, after all, left Starfire, the alien girl he had once loved with by night, to come to his arms. He had clearly chosen Slade's cruel "love" over Starfire's pure-as-gold one, and had chosen this path of darkness over the hero life he had led beforehand, so why cry now? Wasn't it a little late for those tears?…
He had chosen love over gold himself.
And Robin had most certainly known what he was getting himself into. Slade had made his promise from Day One. When he had first enticed Robin into his arms. Perhaps he had bullied Robin into choosing him over Starfire, true, but Robin was a strong-willed person, daring and willing to risk a gamble on near-impossible odds.
If he had not truly wanted to come to Slade, he wouldn't have.
Robin didn't do anything he didn't want to…
000
"You understand what this means?"
"Of course."
Robin frowned at him, as though resentful of the question. Slade linked his fingers together and turned away.
"I must warn you that I dislike compromise," he murmured. "You cannot have both. I hope you realize that."
"Is that an eventual outcome; or do you mean that you will not allow me to have both?" Robin whispered to his back.
"The first. As much as I dislike the prospect of having to "share" you, greed often makes the man. If you feel that you are unable to give up your place on the team, then by all means remain for as long as you feel you need. Just remember where your loyalty lies, however, Robin…"
Robin seemed surprised.
"What's the catch?" He questioned suspiciously. He rather thought this deal was a little too good…
"There is no catch, my Robin. There is, however, a promise." Slade turned back to Robin, his silver eye glittering icily. "Perhaps it would be best for you to maintain your relationship with the girl; keep up pretences, if you will. However – and I swear to you, Robin – if she tightens her grip on you; if she comes between you and I, if you suddenly decide that she is the one for you after all… I swear to you I will kill her where she stands. You have come to me and asked for this, and I have struck you a deal; you may have the best of both worlds as long as you remember when the end comes, you will be at my side, not theirs. You may allow the girl to love you, as long as you do not love her in return. You have asked, and I have provided; I will give you nothing more than my word."
Robin fidgeted nervously with his belt.
"Robin? Look at me when I'm talking to you, please." The last word was sarcastic, indefinitely.
Robin looked up at him, swallowing in apprehension. He was beginning to lose his nerve; beginning to question himself and his decision.
"Do you agree to those terms?" Slade's tone was becoming more and more impatient.
Robin tugged nervously at the collar of his cape.
"W… well…" He looked down at the floor, and then, suddenly regaining his confidence, looked up at Slade again. "If I were to refuse, then you would not let me walk out of here alive."
Slade nodded his head once, very slowly.
"And so, on those grounds, your answer is…?"
Robin hesitated again. Then;
"Yes."
"Good boy." Slade began to unbuckle his belt. "Good boy…"
000
Alone and calmer, Slade sank into his chair, gripping the arm-rests. He found Robin intolerable sometimes; sometimes…
…he really felt like killing him. It would be no trouble to do so. He doubted he would even feel any kind of remorse for the action. Choking him by slipping his hands around his thin neck. Suffocating him with a pillow as they slept side by side at night. Beating him to death while training. Slipping ground glass or poison into his meals. They were all murderous thoughts that had crossed his mind at one time or another whenever he looked at his small, naïve lover. Robin was not much trouble; he was quiet and well-behaved most of the time. He had chosen for things to be this way and did not argue.
In fact, all of the times Slade had ever thought about murdering him… he hadn't actually done anything to aggravate him. The times when he thought about it were when he simply looked at him and observed his innocence. Looking at the boy's sincere, pale, pretty face made him want to smother him that very night while he slept. Hearing his soft voice – his pleasant American drawl – or his neat little laugh made him want to strangle him.
He despised him simply because he could not bear to let him go. He did not want anyone else to have him, and so if that meant killing him, then so be it. He would rather see Robin in his grave than happy with someone else. If he thought Robin was being unfaithful to him then he would not hesitate to kill him.
It was that vow that had brought this whole business full circle. A promise of death that had been fulfilled. Slade had sworn to kill Starfire if Robin began to rekindle his love towards her. Eventually, in order to protect her and the rest of the team from Slade, Robin had left them, believing the danger to be minimized in his absence.
Instead it had been the thing that had caused Starfire's death. By leaving with Slade he had broken Starfire's heart to the point where she had felt the same way as Slade did; that if she could not have him, she would kill him. So she had followed him here; he had led her right to Slade.
And Slade had, of course, kept his promise. Five times of her appearing out of the blue with all the destruction-in-hand of a comet had been enough for him.
So he had killed her.
But where did that leave Robin now? The boy had trapped himself initially; he had begged to Slade for the compromise, Slade only agreeing on the terms that Robin discontinue his love for Starfire. Robin had shut himself off from her completely to protect her. He had left her to protect her. It hadn't worked, and now that she lay dead…
…where did that leave the little bird?
Surely he could not still love Slade now. Not after…
Slade's hands clenched into fists on the arms of his chair.
And if that was true…
…Then there was only one thing to do…
The door to the chamber slammed open again and Slade swept inside. He closed it again, surprisingly quietly, and observed the scene before him.
Robin was lying on the floor, pressed right up against Starfire on his side, one hand clasped with her cool dead one.
His shoulders shook as he sobbed.
He was tempted to go to his belt for the knife there and then. Stab them both with the same knife. Let them have a true Romeo and Juliet ending…
But he didn't.
He approached Robin. The boy sat up as he heard the footsteps, quickly jerking his head up. His frightened masked eyes saw Slade; and Slade saw the tears streaked down his bloody face.
Robin looked at him for a second or two; then wearily lay down again in exactly the same position.
Wedged against the beautiful body of his dead ex-lover. His dead best friend.
Slade cleared his throat impatiently.
"Robin…?"
Robin did not look up.
"Just leave me alone…" he muttered, sounding as though he was in tears again.
White hot anger welled within Slade again at the "order".
"Get up," he hissed.
Quivering, Robin declined his head violently.
What calm Slade had managed to cultivate drained from him completely. He was at Robin's side in less than three seconds, and had hauled him to his feet by his hair in less than five. Robin still clung to Starfire and so she was hauled up to, limp in Robin's arms like a rag doll.
Slade angrily disentangled Robin's hands from her and threw the dead girl back to the floor.
Still being held by his hair, Robin slammed his fists against Slade's chest with all of his strength, screaming in utter despair.
It hurt. A little.
Slade dragged him over to the bed and threw him onto it, letting him collapse in a sobbing, squeaking, gasping heap. He found stray jet black strands (and quite a lot of them) left behind between his fingers.
Robin wouldn't even look at him now. He had thought him emotionless, but clearly…
…clearly he wasn't. And he may not have been afraid of Slade before, but he was now. Terrified. Now that it had sunk in, and he had realized what Slade was capable of and willing to do…
Robin looked up at him, pausing in his sobs, with huge frightened eyes behind his mask. Slade reached for him and Robin shrank back.
And Slade knew it was over. Robin would never trust him again, not after tonight. He would fear him, be sickened by him, hate him…
Slade would not have that.
If he could not have Robin… then nobody could.
He withdrew his hand.
"Fine, I will not touch you," he said, forcing his voice to a calm level. "But at least allow me to get you a drink of water to calm you."
He sauntered to the bathroom and got the glass from the shelf, filling it with cold water.
Out came the tiny bottle from his belt. A small amount of clear liquid resided in it.
Deadly poison enough to kill ten men. He could have just as easily stabbed him in the back, with his lover, but such a beautiful boy deserved a beautiful death.
He unscrewed the cap and…
…hesitated for a second or two…
…and then in it went, the whole content of it. Clear mixed with clear. You couldn't even tell…
"Here."
He pressed the glass into Robin's hand upon his return. The boy looked at him for a few moments and Slade saw what a mess he was and decided…
…that it was okay. For the very last time, it was okay…
Robin put the glass to his lips and drank. He drank and drank and drank, only stopping for air once, and drained the entire glass.
Poison and all.
Lethargy first; then pain would kick in. Then death. It took around fifteen to twenty minutes.
More than enough time.
He took the glass back as Robin flopped onto the bed, suddenly much calmer.
"Better?"
Robin nodded.
"Good." Slade smiled deeply. "It will all be over soon, my Robin…"
"What's that… suppos'd to mean?" Robin asked dazedly.
"You will know when the time comes… for now, allow me to soothe you…" Slade removed his mask and resumed the position he had been in before Robin had got up off the bed and started this nonsense. He kissed him deeply and Robin lazily kissed back, becoming extremely sedated by the poison quickly ravaging his system.
Slade knew he was wasting time. He didn't have long; Robin would be dead within the hour. Within the half hour.
But even though he had done the deed – sought to end Robin's life – he would not let him go so easily. He did not regret it, nor did he curse his haste.
But he was still going to get one last kick out of him.
Breaking from him, Slade slid his hands downwards to the hem of his white cotton t-shirt. Robin obediently put his arms up and Slade pulled it off over his head, wrapping his arms around the boy's small, bare torso. He kissed his chest, sucking and biting his nipples; and Robin squirmed and squeaked and arched upwards off the bed. Ignoring his whines, Slade moved downwards, kissing his taut flat belly; he fucked his naval with his tongue and Robin writhed violently, thrashing about underneath him at the feeling of it.
Slade savored every second of his slow erotic torture; yet knew he was on a tight schedule. He could not make it last for hours, the way he often did. He tried to relish it as much as possible because he knew it was the last time would ever touch Robin in this way and feel the reaction he always got in return.
He was beginning to wish…
No. No, he wasn't. Robin was safer dead; at least Slade knew where he was. At least he knew his thoughts were not of someone else. They couldn't be.
He was safer six feet below the ground.
Slade moved lower, unbuttoning Robin's black jeans and unzipping them. He pulled apart the "v" of the zip, baring more of his stomach and the top of his white shorts. Slade kissed what was revealed to him and then pulled Robin's jeans to his knees.
The shorts did nothing to restrain him.
Slade ripped them down, taking the jeans off too with the shorts and throwing them aside. What need had the boy for clothes now?
He kissed his most precious part and Robin jerked his hips, putting a hand to his bloody forehead.
"Uhn… Slade… so hot…" he moaned. "I don't feel…"
Slade cursed inwardly. Robin was becoming sexually excited; that meant his heart was beating faster. That meant his blood was pumping faster, carrying the poison around his body more quickly, and so…
Forget twenty minutes. He had maybe ten, at the most.
"Can we… later—"
Robin gasped as Slade engulfed him in his mouth. Pleasure overrode any discomfort he felt and he writhed again, kicking and bucking his hips. Slade wasted no time; he did not tease him in any way. He got the job done hard and fast and Robin's white frothy fountain burst forth in less than a minute.
He swallowed and wiped his mouth and grasped the panting boy by his hips and roughly turned him over on the sheets.
Robin moaned again.
"Please, Slade… I really don't… feel so great…"
"I'm going to make it better."
Slade hurriedly unbuckled his belt and unzipped himself, pulling his mask back on with one hand as he shoved his pants down with the other. He ignored Robin as he began to whine another protest, pressing his hand into the small of his back. Reaching down to Starfire's body with his other hand, he got some of her spilt blood onto his hand and slicked himself with it to make his entrance easier on the dying boy. He positioned himself at Robin's tight opening, pulling him to his hands and knees, and then thrust into him—
Robin's whole body jerked with the sudden force of it, and he cried out in pain; but he was used to this and soon became accustomed to it – the way he always did. He panted and bucked against him, tears streaming down his face from the pain of it; Slade had never hurt him so much, or gone so fast. It was as though there was a sense of urgency to the process…
And liquid pain burned him from within; seared him… He felt it coursing through him, like acid or a solution of pure fire, were that possible… His cries became screams; his whines became sobs… He was in agony and yet Slade simply continued to pound mercilessly in and out of him. He knew that this was more than just the brutal sex and yet his head ached and was so nebulous he could not begin to think clearly. He could not rationalize…
Slade slammed against him one last time and suddenly exploded into him with more force than ever before, a half-moan, half-gasp escaping him upon orgasm. Pushing the limp boy away – where he flopped onto the bed, poison-induced agony devouring him so that he curled up in a little ball of pain – Slade knelt back up and took a breather. That had taxed even him to his limit…
He watched the quivering, sweaty, naked boy curling and writhing on the bed for a second or two; then got up from the mattress and quickly made himself decent, turning back to him when he was done. He stood over the bed, his hands behind his back, as he watched his little bird die.
Robin lifted his head weakly, his eyes wide and frightened and filled with pain.
"Slade… help me…" he begged hoarsely, moaning dismally.
Slade tilted his head.
"Alas, my Robin, there is nothing I can do for you now."
Robin let out a choked sob.
"It hurts… I'm dying!" He whispered the first two words; and screamed the last two. He gave way to more sobs and writhed nakedly on the sheets, stained in tears and blood and sweat.
"You are indeed." Slade's voice was cold. "But to ease matters, your suffering will end soon; that much I promise to you."
Robin looked up at him again; and this time his eyes were filled not with fear, but burning hatred. Slade could tell even through the mask.
"You… you did this to me!" Robin spat with all the fire he had in his soul. "You… bastard! Starfire… and now… how could you—"
"Simple, sweet boy," Slade interrupted icily. "I told you the price of my compromise. You were not to love another, nor was the girl to interfere. The only two conditions of my promise, and tonight they have both served to be broken. I am a man of my word, Robin; a man of my word indeed…"
"The water…?"
Slade nodded once in an irreverent fashion.
"Poison. I will not stand for a contract, if you will, to be broken. You have broken your word on both counts, Robin, and so you will die by them. You pledged yourself to me, and yet, I find that you are not truly mine to keep; is that not so? And if I cannot have you, my Robin…"
Slade leaned right over the near-dead teenaged boy, his single granite eye flashing.
"…Then rest assured that no-one can…"
Robin made a horrible choking sound and his eyes blazed with pure loathing; a loathing for the man which he had not felt for a very long time…
"I hate you…" he hissed, his eyes sliding closed.
Slade smiled grimly.
"That, Robin, is precisely the problem…" he whispered in reply.
He watched Robin for a second or two more; as his breathing slowed, his body became limp, and then—
He took one more breath; and then he breathed no more.
Slade sank onto the edge of the bed and pulled the dead boy to him, laying his head in his lap.
No evidence of death aside from the slight blue tinge to his lips; and the fact that he longer breathed and that his heart no longer beat. But he was still warm (of course); hot even, from the events that had taken place only minutes before his death.
Slade pulled him up a little more, clutching him to his chest.
Yes, he was dead. There was nothing anyone could do now. Robin was dead, and he, Slade, had killed him.
Out of jealousy? Perhaps.
But Robin was definitely better six feet under the ground. Safer, and saner. His death roused no emotion in Slade save relief; in death, Robin was truly his, and no-one else's.
Not the alien girl's.
Not Batman's.
His.
And although that thought gave him comfort, he sat there with his dead teenaged lover clutched to his chest, and realized that he was alone within a purely desolate existence once again.
Full circle, indeed.
END
Here's hoping you liked it! Narroch06 and I were pretty pleased with the result… It's pretty awesome that we managed to pull two whole extra chapters out of what was pretty much a no-plot piece…
Yes, Slade took off his mask. Yes, we didn't describe what he looks like. Why? Because… been there, done that, not going there again. We already did that whole describing thing in our other RobinxSlade piece Small Print (now isn't that an incentive to go read it?) and considering it wasn't especially… acclaimed, we didn't bother this time. You can either use your imagination, read Small Print or go by the "original" version, if you are a fan of the 80s New Teen Titans series.
That's it for now, folks! No more RobinxSlade stuff until the next chapter of Small Print.
And BTW, to any readers of that… yeah, we have a few nice/nasty (delete as applicable) little surprises in store for y'all…
- RobinRocks xXx