A/N: So…I don't know why I continued with this, but it struck me during class and I decided that instead of having a million one shots, I could have a collection of them under one heading. Again, I know it's short.
Slade had never seen someone so completely and utterly broken. The boy on the bed was bruised, pale, and bleeding, yet…he was smiling softly in his sleep. He had welcomed every touch, be it harsh or gentle, that Slade bestowed upon him with arms wide open.
Stockholm Syndrome was a marvelous device. It was slightly strange that Robin hadn't realized his need for Slade until after his visit to the asylum…or maybe it wasn't. After all, the boy killed his friends for Slade first, even if he did seem to regret his actions and turn himself in immediately afterwards. Then there was that little incident with the woman from the asylum; had Robin killed her before or after the Syndrome kicked in?
Slade wasn't entirely sure, but it didn't really matter. Robin was his now no matter when the defense mechanism had come about. The thin body on the bed heaved a soft sigh, and Slade allowed himself a small smile. This was the perfect Robin, the broken shell of a boy Slade had always longed for him to become. Each bruise, each laceration, only served to increase Slade's pride in this young man. It proved that Robin could endure, that he could live on in spite of his hardships.
He stepped further into the room, making no sound. Still, Robin seemed to sense him, and his eyes slowly opened, lighting up as soon as they rested upon his Master's unmasked face. He slowly stood up, moving with a grace that felines envied, and approached Slade hesitantly, seeking the reassurance that Slade loved him. The man enveloped him in his arms, ignoring the bruises as he brought the smaller body flush against his own.
"Master, will you be joining me?" Robin murmured from where his face was buried in Slade's chest.
"You are insatiable, little bird," Slade chuckled lightly. "How long has it been since last time I fucked you?"
"How long have I been asleep?" Robin asked back.
"A couple hours."
"A couple hours; that's more than enough time to fuck me again."
"I think you're being greedy."
Robin feigned a sigh, knowing Slade wouldn't turn him down. "I guess I'll just go back to sleep again."
He had barely turned for the bed when Slade lifted him up and threw him down, pouncing on him shortly after. His lips latched onto the boy's neck, and Robin moaned contently.
Yes, Robin was irreparably damaged, but Slade loved him all the same.