"Robin? Robin where are you?!" Starfire cried into the communicator. "Please respond!"
It had been an hour and still she received no reply. All was static.
The rest of the Titans stood quiet and reserved behind her. The early dawn was rising with an aura of dread. The street was uncomfortably deserted. Not a vagrant was seen nor a dog heard. Trash tumbleweeds blew helter-skelter across the pavement. A chilly breeze twisted the group's clothes and caused a rash of gooseflesh to sprout from their skin.
Starfire clutched the communicator close to her chest. Something was wrong, very wrong. A nameless fear was closing in around her heart like a slow-moving fog. It wasn't like Robin to be so late.
She spun around, a flame in her emerald eyes.
"Why does he not answer?!"
"His locator's been deactivated," Cyborg said gently for the third time. "We have no way to find him."
Undaunted, Starfire flipped back to the communicator and continued to fire exclamations into it.
"Robin! You must answer!"
Beast Boy nudged Cyborg in the ribs as he watched Starfire's rising panic.
"Dude, not good," he murmured under his breath. "How did his locator get deactivated in the first place?"
Raven answered that in a clipped monotone.
"Either Robin did it himself or…" She sighed to mask the quiver in her voice.
"Someone did it for him," Cyborg finished grimly.
Beast Boy's jade-colored skin paled into a sickly green.
Slade's words buzzed around Robin's head like a swarm of angry, mutated hornets.
"Trigger? There is no trigger. Because there is no detonator."
"For some time now, I've been looking for an apprentice…"
"...And Robin, I've chosen you."
"Congratulations."
"…Nanoscopic Probes, Robin…"
"…with the push of a button, I will destroy your friends…"
"If you join me, if you swear to serve me…I will allow them to live."
Robin peered blurrily at the screens in front of him. Never in his wildest nightmare did he imagine this is what the psycho had been planning. His friends' blood was tainted with infinitesimal mines that were set to go off at Slade's slightest whim. With his own eyes, he watched as Starfire, Raven, Beast Boy, and Cyborg's red blood cells raced from artery to artery, unaware of the parasitic death-traps strapped to their backs.
"What if I refuse?" he pondered in a dead voice, already knowing the answer.
Slade stood off to the side, basking in his victory. He held Robin's communicator like a trophy, tossing it up and down in his palm. Upon hearing the beaten Titan's question, he stuffed the thing into a pocket and clasped his hands behind his back. With long, quick strides, he approached Robin and leaned forward.
Face to face, his coal-hued eye narrowed and a bolt of spite raced through it. He twisted the knife.
"They will be annihilated, Robin," he explained lowly, inhumanly. "And you will be the cause of it. It'll be your finger on the button that seals their fate."
Robin had expected nothing less, but it still didn't ease the blow. Worse than the dislocated shoulder and cracked rib, Slade's devilish contract wounded him to his very soul. It hurt to stand, to breathe, to think.
"I would never…!" he weakly protested. "You…you couldn't make me…!"
"Dear child, if I wanted, I could make you do it now," Slade snapped happily, his words laced with an eager threat.
"Then why don't you?!" the boy wonder hissed between pained pants, calling the bluff.
Slade paused for a moment and straightened to his full height. He rolled his shoulders in a quick, nonchalant shrug. Robin's deadened heart revitalized. The horrid sound of its frantic beats pounded a death-knell in his ears. The villain couldn't be serious...
But before Robin could so much as blink or cringe, Slade's gloved, plated hand was cinched around his left wrist. With a merciless yank, Robin flew forward, a scream tearing through his throat. It felt as if his arm was being ripped from the socket. How could such a limp, useless thing cause so much pain?
Dangling in Slade's grip, Robin flailed pathetically put found no purchase for his efforts. His toes scuffed the ground as he kicked feebly. He couldn't so much as raise his good arm to fight the demon off. Every twist or turn in Slade's vice only added to his misery. Sensation and reason was stripped away by the agony emanating from his shoulder.
A small, cylindrical device rose out of Slade's sleeve, buttressed. It had the appearance of a retro joystick. A bright red button on top, the steel stem had the color of old, brown blood. With stoic precision, Slade dislodged and transferred the trigger to Robin's stolen palm. He curled the boy's trembling, numb fingers around it and held them there—thumb on top of thumb.
"Any more questions?" Slade mused, purring.
Robin groaned in response.
He could feel the rounded switch under his gloved thumb while Slade's icy fingers constricted around his closed knuckles, tightening. Robin put every last ounce of strength into keeping his left hand still and unmoving, despite the tremendous anguish it caused.
"Now," the villain continued and his susurrated breath kissed the top of Robin's head. "With the push of a button, your precious friends will be nothing but piles of ash. And once the detonation sequence starts, it can't be stopped. Not even by me."
Slade's grasp squeezed and Robin felt the trigger's spring begin to coil. His breath hitched and his hidden blue eyes widened in terror. One centimeter, one twitch, could mean sudden, painful death for his friends—his family. For the second time in his life, he would be an orphan…
Orphan. Orphan. Orphan. The word crippled his petulant resolve.
"Of course, it needn't be this way," Slade cooed. "Simply agree to my terms and everyone lives."
The atmosphere suffocated him. Shadows closed in and blocked off the exits. Robin's mind raced, searching for a way out but he couldn't find one. The seconds ticked by slowly as he panicked. He felt his strength leave him, fail him, with each click of the clock. His thumb threaten to collapse as it trembled.
He couldn't escape.
"So, Robin..."
Slade's coils tightened, fangs poised to strike.
"...do we have a deal?"
There was no way out.
Unable to speak, Robin gave one, tight jerk of his chin and hung his head in surrender.
"Excellent."