An Addiction Too Strong
Robin furrowed his brow in intense concentration, rifling through cabinet after cabinet, file after file, again and again in never ending insomnia. He was searching for a file on who his friends lovingly called his favorite villain: Slade.
He cringed as the word ran through his mind for the hundredth time since resigning himself to his room eight hours ago, back at seven o' clock when the sun was just settling down into the horizon.
Finding file after file of evidence had kept him awake. He hadn't paused to take a quick nap, or to eat something to give him energy. He didn't need anything; his only hunger was for catching Slade.
It was an obsession that Robin was afraid to admit he had. Ever since the criminal had taken him as an apprentice, Robin's interest grew. It was frightening, really, the loss of sleep over a strange man who, for the most part, had disappeared from the main stream of misdemeanors after helping save the world from Trigon.
Robin shook his head roughly. Back on track, he commanded to himself, but if it was aloud or only mentally, he wasn't sure. Unless he was researching crimes, he wasn't ever sure.
A knock at him door made him jump. "What?" he snapped, slamming his fist into the door panel.
The red-haired Tamaranean beauty named Starfire stood in front of him, arms crossed in front of her silken purple nightgown. She rubbed her glazed eyes wearily. "I apologize for interrupting your work, Robin, but… I wish to know why you are still continuing your research at such a late—or early—hour."
"I have to," he replied simply, beginning to close the door.
Her hand reached out to stop it. "Robin," she murmured. "Please. By working like this, you will become the unhealthy. Will you stop studying Slade for my benefit, if not yours?"
Robin reached back, shutting the door on her. She knocked again but soon gave up and retired back to her own bedroom.
No, he answered. I can't just stop working.
He knew it was pushing them apart. He could never find a way to get rid of his addiction to Slade, and therefore spent hours of time working instead of hanging out with Starfire, the other Titans, or working on smaller cases involving lesser criminals. But it was just that—an addiction. Robin would take breaks from his research, sometimes even long ones. But those became distant memories as soon as the drawers of his filing cabinets were open again.
Until Slade was gone, he couldn't rest. Even as he thought that, his mixed emotions made him nervous. He was scared that he might kill himself from the lack of sleep, social interaction, food—everything. But he was also exhilarated in a twisted sort of way. The only steady thing in his life had been Slade. Although that sounded disgusting, it was true. Slade would appear, beat him, and then be beaten by only a small bit so Robin could claim it as another victory for good and another defeat for evil. But the cycle would go on: Slade would appear again, even better than before.
Whether it was hate or love that drove Robin to continue to search for Slade, even he didn't know, because often the line between the two is too thin to see.