A/N: Last couple chapters were a bit long (in relation to the others), but this one goes back to the short version again... possibly because I just finished writing most of it. It's been a busy couple of weeks!

"What do you mean two days?" Robin tried to stand, but instead tipped dangerously to the side until he nearly fell out of the sleeping bag and Slade grabbed his shoulders to steady him. "How long was I out?"

"Just under forty-eight hours," Slade answered, finally looking the teen in the eye as his hands held firm to his shoulders. There was a long pause as the villain studied the teen, watching him take in the news and attempt to understand it.

"It doesn't mean that he's dead!" the hero then declared, his tone defensive as if the news had been some kind of accusation.

"No, it doesn't," the man agreed.

"His comm could be broken - or he could have just missed the check-in times!" Robin's body shook and his voice was edged in fear.

"You're right." Slade's hands tightened on the thin and shaking shoulders, giving a light squeeze before he pulled away. Robin merely sat against the railing, his expression mute as the man returned to the MREs and prepared them in equal silence.

Robin closed his eyes, breathing in the chilled air and trying to distinguish the salty breeze from the ocean from the stale smell of the city. His eyes opened and he stared at Slade. He supposed he should have felt something. Pain. Anger. Guilt. Helplessness… But he didn't feel anything… just a strange numbness that crawled through his bones and seemed to burn at him with each and every glance the villain sent his way. It was a strangely empty sensation, as though his body had been hollowed out and all that was left was a heavy heart that kept him from floating away.

Slade glanced between his preparations at the teen, watching carefully as the blue eyes followed his movements and sometimes simply stared at the man without expectation.

"What if we're the only ones?" Robin finally asked as Slade stirred a packet with a fork.

"We're not," the man answered him resolutely. "There are others out there, small packs of them. They've gone as feral as the dead, in most cases, but they're still human, for whatever that's worth. Now, eat."

Robin felt the warmed packet pressing against his sleeping bag and didn't have the will or the energy to argue. He knew Slade was watching as he ate, making sure he didn't waste a single bite. It crossed his mind to throw the food over the side of the building, just to see if Slade would lose his temper, but he really didn't see the point. Besides that, he needed the food if he was ever going to escape the rooftop alive. The drugs had left him weak and malnourished. He wouldn't survive this way…

A ghost of a question passed over his thoughts. Did he want to survive? Perhaps he expected some sort of debate from himself, some questioning of whether it was worth it to live in a dead world… but the answer came without hesitation: Yes. He wanted to survive. And he damned well wouldn't go down without a fight.

The warm food that pooled in his stomach wasn't really a pleasant sensation, but it was the closest thing to feeling that he could stand. He missed true warmth, like skin pressing against skin and deep, heated kisses.

"I miss feeling human," Robin murmured wistfully, his fork pausing for only a tiny second before descending again into the pouch. It was a Middle Eastern dish this time, though he couldn't quite name the plate or the flavor despite how hard he tried to focus.

"I miss bathing," Slade responded and actually received a light, appreciative chuckle.

"Same thing, I think," the teen quietly said into his fork, muttering around the metal and staring at the rooftop once again as he let him mind wander airily until he seemed to stumble over a particularly groggy memory. "Slade?"

"Mmn?" The man answered gruffly as he chewed whatever meal he'd selected.

"When you tranq'ed me, you said something… something about a deal with Bruce. I wouldn't put it past you to try to make a buck on my head, but why bother? Money doesn't matter anymore, and it sounds like you're better prepared to survive this world than he is… so what was it you were after?"

"Refuge." Slade's answer was quick, but somehow lacking, Robin could sense a deeper story in his voice.

"Why would you possibly need refuge so badly that you'd abandon it soon after finding it?"

"Not for me." Slade answered very plainly as he looked the teen in his eyes, his stance and voice unwavering. "For my daughter. Her name is Rose."

A/N: Which begs the question: Where is she?
See you next week with a new chapter!