A/N: So, usually when I post anything, I'm too exhausted to make intelligent statements, let alone put them into words. But I've got just enough brain power left to say thank you to everyone that is enjoying this story. I don't always reply to reviews (for the same reason as above - I'm usually stupid tired when I read them) but I'm very glad to know that the story is being enjoyed, and very grateful that you took the time to review. Thank you~
"That's it?" Robin asked after several minutes passed and only a few series of pain-inducing, screechy beeps were released from the machine.
"That's it," Slade answered. "Now we wait. He knows you're alive, and he's coming here. How he plans to do that is a little beyond me, but he's resourceful. I'm sure he'll figure it out."
"What's your best guess for an E.T.A.?"
"I'm guessing over a week. Nine days, probably…" Slade looked over the side of the building and seemed to ponder. "You're wondering about food, aren't you?"
"Among other things. Water. Shelter. Gotham might have had an early freeze, but Jump is feeling it late. The air is wet and the temperature plummets at night. Sometimes the fog rolls in and it freezes… If we're out in that… Well, you'll probably be fine…" Robin sighed, feeling the chill drift in from the shore.
"Time to compare supplies," Slade responded casually as he pulled several bags from his back. Robin only watched as the man unpacked, pulling out a bushel earth-colored plastic bags and several bottles of water, clothing, light rope, two sleeping bags, space blanket, matches, ammunition, basic toiletries, and a variety of knives.
"How many MREs is that… ten?" Robin asked, pointing to the earth-colored bags and feeling his stomach churn.
"Yeah."
"I've got a thirty-eight that'll take that ammo. Are you interested in a trade?"
"Perhaps you misunderstood, Robin. I'm not asking for a trade. We are sharing our supplies."
"I'm not sharing with you," The teen retorted in disgust, minimally cognizant of how childish he sounded, and ultimately unmotivated to act otherwise.
"Why? What've you got that's going to keep you alive for the next nine days?"
"Guns," Robin stated matter-of-factly, pulling the aforementioned thirty-eight from his holster and pointing it at the man's nose. "Unless you want a bullet in your head and an answer to if I can weave a rope from your entrails, then you're going to give me what I want. Right now, that's your food."
"You gave more convincing threats when you were in tights," the man shook his head and gave a slight smirk. "As a gentleman, I won't point out that the second you're asleep, I'd be able to turn that muzzle on you... I'm guessing you didn't have to fight many humans to survive this world."
Robin kept silent for a long while, frowning as Slade grabbed the topmost bag and ripped it open before separating the smaller packets contained inside and getting to work on preparing the food.
Bruce wasn't the only one to create a safe house. His team had gathered survivors and brought them to The Tower. Having the Titans to keep order probably saved their group from falling to the same discourse as the Wayne Manor survivors… but in the end, it didn't really matter…
"How did it happen?" Slade asked, "Your team?"
"I don't want to talk about it," the teen answered resolutely, squeezing the peanut butter onto the bread and shoving a bite into his mouth. He chewed roughly, finding his tongue suddenly very dry, but ultimately sated. The taste of overly-processed and preserved food was a lot better than some of the rot he'd endured. The city had small caches of salvageable food here and there, but they had collected and stored a majority of the non-perishable and emergency rations at The Tower. He'd gone back a small handful of times, but could never bring himself to go inside.
"I saw them, you know," Slade said quietly. "Like Batman, I checked the tower first."
"You didn't…" Robin froze, wide eyed and frightened, "To them, I mean… you didn't…"
"Take them out? No. Would have been a kindness, but I wasn't there as an act of mercy. I came here to find you. Once I confirmed that you weren't there, I left."
"What made you so sure that I wasn't dead?" Robin asked, trying carefully to change the subject.
"Because I know you, Robin. I've seen the darker sides of your personality, and I know what you are capable of. You and I were built to survive chaos like this."
"I'm nothing like you," Robin glared, though it would have been slightly more menacing if he'd put down the peanut butter first. "And I'm certainly not built for this hell."
"The corpses in your basement present a conflicting argument," Slade smiled politely.
A/N He says that as if there isn't an abundance of dead bodies EVERYWHERE. It is the ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE, Slade. Geez.