A/N: So... here I am! XD... Yes, well, I'm afraid I've allowed myself to become very distracted over these last (oh crap!) few months. I have been legitimately busy with school work, community service (which is a graduation requirement at my school and my school only, at least as far as I'm aware), regular work, and making sure that I'll actually be able to walk with my class this year. But, in addition to that, I became completely obsessed with my latest discoveries: Death Note and Code Geass. I've never been into or even seen an anime show before, but I came across DN sometime in September and I fangirled so hard I just had to find more. And then I started looking around those fandoms on this site for any good stories and... yeah, totally distracted. I had no motivation to write when I was reading and watching soooo much.
In case any of you were wondering, yes, that's my excuse. It was kind of a big thing for me.
Anyway, here you are my lovelies. If any of you are still reading this, I want to thank you for sticking with me. I am a naughty, naughty author, yes?
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
Chapter 4: Detectives
The afternoon sunlight was steadily fading, sharp yellow light slipping further and further up the room as the angle changed.
Robin lay completely still, no longer struggling against the ropes that held him, eyes blank and staring in pained acceptance. At the moment, he could hardly recall ever feeling so miserable, every inch of him throbbing, aching, or burning at some injury or another - all of it caused directly or indirectly by Slade himself. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to pull so hard against his restraints, to deny himself sustenance, to so openly goad his captor into attacking him like that…
And this, of course, was probably playing right into Slade's plan, to wear him down until he became pliable and complacent like a good little apprentice. As much as Robin hated to admit it, he was going to have to be more careful from now on - choose his battles, do as much as he could to ensure his continued health, at least until he found a way to escape.
Clenching his masked eyes tightly closed, Robin tried to breathe steadily and more calmly through his nose, slowly relaxing the various aching muscles in his body. The sun was setting now, the sky streaked with red and the coming darkness of nightfall. The fact that he was still here after however many hours had passed, with no contact from Slade, meant that he would likely be spending the night on this floor. He sighed and started to mentally prepare himself for what was probably going to end up being the most uncomfortable night's sleep he'd ever gotten.
The door behind him clanked loudly, startling him from his dozing state and forcing his eyes open once more as it creaked ominously open behind him. A few seconds later, a pair of shined black shoes and trim, black trousers stepped into his field of vision and Robin quickly raised his eyes to identify the strange man standing over him. White hair and an aged, strict-looking face gazed down at him with equal measures of severity and what - if he wasn't mistaken - appeared to be genuine concern.
"Who are you?" Robin snapped accusingly up at the man, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
The stranger only raised his eyebrows, unaffected. "No need to be so suspicious, young man. I am merely here to escort you back to your room - unless you wanted to sleep on the floor?"
The condescending tone made Robin want to lash out at the man. He could taste the easy response on his tongue: 'Yes, I'm perfectly fine here, thank you very much!' But then he forced himself to remember his latest decision to choose his battles. Considering his injuries and exhaustion, a soft bed would only do him some good.
"No," he bit out, "I don't."
The man nodded, "Very good, then," and immediately knelt down to begin the process of untying him. When he had finished freeing both of his wrists, Robin, seeing the obvious opportunity, moved to incapacitate him with a swift jab to the bundle of nerves located at the back of the neck. But before his hand could reach its destination, another seized his own in a surprisingly sturdy grip.
"That's not a very good idea, young man. I suggest you learn to restrain yourself in the future, lest you do something you'll regret."
Robin glared as he was released, miffed that this man had so easily been able to stop him. He finally said, " You never answered my question."
"Hm?" the man asked distractedly, now working his way through the knots at his ankles.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here? I doubt that Slade lets innocent civilians wander around his house, freeing his prisoners...Unless you're working for him."
"You may call me Wintergreen. That's all you need to know about my identity at this point - and, yes, you could say that I work for Slade."
Robin nodded, filing the information away for later use. If it was a real name, then there was a possibility that this knowledge would come in handy in the future when he was free and ready to track both of these men down. But for now, he'd keep quiet.
Massaging his sore wrists, Robin was finally able to stand up and stretch his aching limbs. Though he hid it well, his legs and hands were trembling slightly with fatigue and the lack of proper nutrition, and the room had started to spin. Wintergreen either didn't notice his swaying or he had just decided to ignore it as he too gracefully got to his feet.
"Follow me,"
The trip back to his room was not nearly as eventful as the one leaving it had been, although Robin did learn a few things about the house on the way there. It appeared that they were walking along the ground floor which looked for all the world to be part of an innocent, albeit enormous, house. By the time they reached the door leading down to the basement, night had fallen and automatic lights were beginning to flicker to life up and down the hallways.
Wintergreen swiped a security card through a steel-grey panel on the side of the door, turning the little light there from red to blue. Robin simply sealed his lips and allowed himself to be led down the stairs and through the winding hallways that led to his roo- his cell, noticing as he did so that all other potential pathways were still blocked off. He scowled for a moment until the realization hit him: upstairs, everything had been open and normal-looking. Perhaps the system of barricades was only active down in the basement level, and not in the main house.
When they reached the appropriate door, Wintergreen again used his card to unlock it, along with a several-digit-long code that he shielded from Robin's eyes with his body. There was a quiet little beep as the door swished open and, upon entering, Robin had to consciously keep his jaw from dropping.
Everything was gone. A thin pile of blankets had been tossed carelessly into one of the corners, the blank plaster walls bare and cold, the wooden floor wide and empty. This was perfectly fine with him of course, what he had expected from the beginning really. This was good. No more pretenses. This little cell, hidden from the world and beneath the earth, finally looked the part.
"My, my… It seems that you'll be sleeping on the floor after all." Wintergreen commented from behind him. Robin grit his teeth and said nothing. "The bathroom is still functioning if you want a shower. I'll be back later with a change of clothes and some food. I suggest you eat it this time around."
The thick door closed behind him as Wintergreen left him there with the truth of his new reality staring him in the face. Robin's jaw clicked shut and his fingers curled into fists as he stood there silently, head still held high as he scanned the room. Prisoner or not, he was still Robin - and as Robin, he could take anything that Slade or any other villain decided to throw at him... He had to.
Despite what Wintergreen had said, Robin had half expected for Slade to have left him with either cold water or none at all. But, as he held his hand out beneath the spray to test it, wonderful warm water splashed across his gloveless palm and he gave a nearly inaudible sigh of contentment.
He had had a long internal debate about whether or not he should actually take the shower, knowing that, although he had taken the time to scan every inch of the room for hidden cameras or bugs and found none, there was still a great chance that Slade was somehow watching him from wherever he was hiding now. It wasn't as though he was planning on removing his mask but still… just the thought of his captor watching him as he stood now, without his usual bright costume and only the covering provided by the scratchy towel he had pulled tightly around his waste, made him shudder with revulsion.
Glancing around once more, Robin realized that, unless he decided to just give up on the whole endeavor, there wasn't much more stalling he could do. He already felt ridiculous enough as it was. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter… He loosened the towel and let it drop to the floor, jumping into the shower stall and yanking the curtain around the moment he was inside. He hated this, having to be so paranoid about such a simple thing, but it wasn't as if there was anything he could do about it as things were.
He scrubbed himself down as quickly as he could, only slowing down and becoming more gentle when he encountered a particularly nasty bruise or cut. Within five minutes he was finished and dry, wrapped once again in just that scrawny towel. When he looked towards the counter where he had placed his dirty uniform, he cursed when he saw that it was empty. He hadn't heard anyone come in at all.
Robin poked his head out into the other room and, seeing that he was still alone, stepped through the bathroom door. In the center of the floor sat a simple cardboard box and, beside it, a single roll of bread and a lump of cheese on a paper plate. Not exactly gourmet, but at this point Robin was willing to eat almost anything. He walked towards it while still maintaining as much dignity as he could manage and forced his attention from the food to the package.
He pulled the flaps aside to find the clothes that Wintergreen had promised him; a simple white T-shirt, cotton grey pants, and a simple pair of boxer shorts. Robin pulled them all on as calmly and hastily as he could before settling down before his meager meal.
As soon as he was finished there, he looked up, not quite knowing what to do with himself. Now that he had put food into his body and had cleaned away all the sweat and grime, he didn't actually feel all that tired, only a bit twitchy with all the suppressed nervous energy. With no one to talk to (or fight with) and nothing to do, Robin decided to arrange the blankets into something resembling a decent bed and settled into them. His mind was buzzing with countless thoughts, questions, and useless escape plans, keeping him awake as he lay there staring at the ceiling until the minutes had long since stretched into hours.
Beastboy as a bloodhound was trotting along the empty passageway, ears pricked and muzzle pressed to the ground in search of a significant trail. Cyborg followed just behind him with his shoulder flashlight projecting forward into the darkness. The echoes of the other heroes' chatter had died away quickly as they got farther and farther away from the group.
Beastboy suddenly morphed back into a human and looked back up at his comrade, looking as serious as he ever did.
"What's up? Did you find something?" asked Cyborg, coming to a stop as well.
"Nothing." He paused for a moment, contemplating whatever was on his mind. "Hey, Cy? Am I the only one who finds this whole thing with Robin totally creepy?"
The other teen sighed. "No, you're not." said Cyborg gravely. "We all know that he wouldn't just up and leave like this. And Raven says that she's got a bad feeling."
Beastboy snorted, "I could' a told you that. It's just weird, y'know? I mean, how many bad guys are actually still wandering around right now? The only one I didn't see here was Dr. Light!" The boy rolled his eyes and chuckled, the ridiculousness of the notion that Dr. Light was their culprit purely comic. Cyborg started walking again.
"Dr. Light's not the only criminal that wasn't involved in the Brotherhood of Evil's plan…" said Cyborg, voice low and wary. Beast Boy's relatively light expression faded away as it dawned on him.
"You don't think -?"
"I sure as hell hope not. Nobody's seen the guy since that whole End-of-the-World thing with Raven's dad. I'm just putting it out there as a possibility."
The pair turned a sharp corner and found that they were only a couple of yards from the end of the tunnel, the artificial lighting blaring like the sun. Quiet fell again as Beastboy sprinted ahead into the room, Cyborg flicking his light off and following at a jog behind him.
The otherwise empty room was filled with scattered tube-like cells, the conveyor belt running parallel to the room against the wall, now completely still. All of the cylinders were unoccupied.
"Didn't Mas and Menos say that they went through here already?" asked Beastboy.
"Yeah, they said that they didn't find anybody else in here either. We already know that Robin's not here anymore, so what we're looking for now -"
Beastboy interrupted with a near shout, "- Is evidence! Like real detectives in a crime scene, huh?"
Cyborg rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Yeah, we're just like the detectives. Let's just have a poke around and see if we can find anything useful."
Beastboy's eyes suddenly widened as they darted around the room as if he was seeing it for the first time. "Oh man! You mean we have to go through all these?"
"You want to find Robin, don't you?" said Cyborg dangerously turning to look down at him.
Beastboy wilted under the glare. "Yeah, but - but - but this'll take forever!"
Cyborg was already making his way towards the nearest cell. "What, did'ja think it was gonna be easy, BB? Just look for his scent, I can handle all the other, more complicated stuff."
"Fine," he pouted, "but when we get home, I demand a vacation!" With that declaration, he transformed once again into his dog form and started snuffling around the base of one of the tubes. An icy silence fell as both teenagers went about their individual forms of investigating, Cyborg using various scanners to look for any hint of unusual activity as the green changling started his sweep of the room.
Beastboy sneezed.
Robin woke suddenly and practically flew out of his make-shift bed as the heavy door swung open. He hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep.
He quickly positioned himself in a fighting stance as he saw who it was that stood in his doorway. Slade's one eye stared right back at him, scanning him up and down as the man took in his recent change of clothes and his obvious defensiveness.
"Well?" he said at last, tone demanding and derisive.
"Well what?" Robin snarled.
"It's time for your training, young man, or had you conveniently forgotten all about that?"
Robin's lip curled in anger. "And what makes you think I'd choose to train with you again? I'm not going to play apprentice with you, Slade, I'm sick of it!"
Slade took a few steps into the room and Robin tensed even further, forcing himself not to back away.
"You know, I think I was almost hoping you'd say that."
Before Robin could make a move, the mercenary had lunged forward and had already knocked his fist into the boy's skull, throwing him back and onto the floor. Ears ringing and choking on the blood that had dripped down his throat, Robin tried to roll away as Slade reached down and seized him by the upper arm. The boy was yanked to his feet and dragged out into and down the corridor, kicking, fighting, and snarling the whole way. Slade's grip was hard and unforgiving - there would probably be more bruises later.
"Unfortunately for you, Robin, you don't have much choice in the matter at all."
A/N: This is completely inadequate: so freaking SHORT! Gah! But, hey, at least it's something right? And it doesn't suck, right? Right?
Don't listen to me, I'm obsessive compulsive and totally zonked out. I wrote the first paragraph in way back when, y'know, and then everything else happened today over the course of maybe 3 hours. So I write fast, but inconsistently. I will reassure you guys out there that although I am a sporadic and sometimes seemingly non-existant updater, I will come back. I don't drop my stories and I hate it when good authors do. So now you are reassured.
Feed the beast! ^_^
(Also, as of 3/26/2011, I have had this finished for four days now and have been unable to publish it. The woes of an internet author)