A/N: Here we are! Crazy times, right? Some readers figured out pretty quickly what was going on, but I think others were trying to say in the most polite way possible, "Kuro... did you accidentally fuck up your storyline? Like... a lot?" To answer that question: I'm not here to not fuck things up, but also that fuck up was totally intentional, so does it count as a fuck up or a fuck down? Did I just answer that question with a question. Oh, fuck?

Slade's eye snapped open to the darkness of the cold, raining night. His mouth was slightly open and his chest full of air as if he had awoken midway through a gasp. Perhaps it was the chill in the air that made their little shelter feel so warm and moist, but it was clear by his heartbeat that the villain had been breathing heavily in their limited space. He quickly, and with as little movement as possible, shifted his hand over his groin. Embarrassed as he was to find himself fully erect, at least his pride had been spared the humiliation of waking up from a wet dream. Thank god for small favors in the form of raging erections.

He turned his head to the teen sleeping next to him and stared for a small moment. What the hell kind of dream was that, anyway? Some residual hormones from their kiss? That hardly seemed likely. Slade hadn't given it another thought, except to tease the hero now and again during their training. But that was simply a blip on the radar. The villain simply wasn't attracted to the teen.

His erection disagreed, but what the hell did it know? His penis had never been good at making choices. Slade rolled to the side, away from the teen, and snorted. Lord, wasn't that the truth. No matter how extraordinary his skills and his instincts made him seem in comparison to most humans, his greatest faults were always rather… mediocre. He'd enjoyed the company of many women throughout his life, usually one at a time, and he liked to think that they'd enjoyed his company was well. But Slade had never been particularly skilled at choosing partners. It was for the better if the relationship was purely physical, but whenever the heart was involved, it was always for the worst.

He paused in his silent thought process, wondering what exactly brought up those ideas. Wanting to fuck the teen was one thing, but developing feelings for him was quite another. Slade paused again. No. No. Actually both were perfectly stupid ideas, and he could not for the life of him understand why he'd thought them up at all. He shifted uncomfortably, erection still very present as he tried pushing the thoughts out of his brain…

Think of supplies.

Escaping the building.

Navigating on street level.

Making it to Gotham.

Batman.

Ah. Now that did it. Nothing quite so sobering as that monochromatic nut-job. Especially considering that he'd left Rose in his care… He wasn't fond of the idea, but it was too dangerous otherwise. He'd nearly been eaten alive getting her to Wayne Manor safely. Although he'd covered her in his own armor, it hung lose and was pure dumb luck that they hadn't torn it off during the struggle. He could remember getting her to the other side of the fence, throwing her like a ragdoll and yelling for her to roll out the impact. He mother had taught her some things, how to fight and when to run from humans, but the things they'd encountered when the world died… he supposed no one was really prepared for that. Her arm had broken upon landing. It was a small crack just below the wrist, but a death sentence beyond the fenced safety of the Manor. He didn't like the idea of tempting fate by bringing her back out into a dead world, but dropping by unannounced was apparently still bad form among blue-blood survivors. He'd had to barter for his daughter's safety, and wagered on Robin's life to do so. It bought him time, at least. Her arm would have been healed well enough by the time he got back… At least that had been his plan before they became stuck on the rooftop.

A very dark part of Slade's mind wondered if Batman even really bothered to try and find them. They'd agreed that he would mount a retrieval mission if the teen was alive but unable or unwilling to travel to Gotham. The communication lines indicated that the man had left Rose in safety and ventured out… but perhaps that was not really the case. Perhaps Batman never intended to leave. Perhaps he's reneged on their arrangement and cast Rose back into the chaos of the rotting world that carried on right outside his gates.

Slade flopped on his back and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was pointless to think about those things. Nothing could be done of it for the moment, and worry wasn't helping them escape the rooftop any faster.

Robin jolted beside him and let out a small, frightened sound, and Slade instinctively tensed. Apparently he wasn't the only one having nightmares that night. He rolled over and pinned smaller down just in time for the teen to awake screaming.

"Robin – Robin!" Slade yelled as the hero frantically struggled against his hold, screaming obscenities and incoherent babble until finally he seemed to realize that whatever horror he'd just realized wasn't real… or at least not really there…

"Slade?" He asked, his voice in panic as his eyes darted around the small tent, the realization of where he really was sinking in and emerging on his features.

"Yes. You were having a dream… Your friends again?"

Robin shook his head, eyes filling with tears.

"Bruce?" Slade asked, not meaning to be cruel, just encouraging the teen to speak about the horrors rather than bottling them up.

"You," he answered, voice breaking softly and nearly fading into the sound of the rain hitting the tent. "I dreamt you turned… and I was all alone again."

Slade let out a small huff, releasing the teen and moving back to his side of the small tent. Embarrassingly, his little-big problem had resurfaced at the site of the hero's body pinned underneath his. There was very little he could do about it, and very less that he actually wanted to do about it. Or so he told himself. Yes, best to ignore it until it went away on its own.

"I don't think you have to worry about that. I'm not going down any time soon." He laid on his back, hand resting over his stomach and discretely (or at least he hoped so) holding his erection flat against his stomach.

"Thank you for waking me up," the teen replied softly.

"Just didn't want you wrecking the tent again."

The sound of rain dominated the conversation for some time, broken periodically by the small movements as the hero wiped his cheeks dry.

"Get some sleep," Slade said in monotone. "Morning isn't far off."

"I'm sorry," Robin whispered. "I'm just… relieved. I guess. I'm glad it wasn't real."

Slade grunted softly in reply, forcing his breath to slow and his eye to close, mimicking sleep. He could feel the teen watching him, silently begging him to be awake. To talk. Anything that made him feel like he was not alone. Several times, he could hear the hero part his lips, preparing to speak, but little more escaped his mouth than a haggard and defeated sigh. The light tug of their sleeping bag let Slade know that the hero had turned away and curled into a tight ball.

"Goodnight, Slade," Robin murmured softly and mostly to himself, voice steeped in loneliness and edged with a careful hint of fear.

The villain frowned, but did not return anything but silence.

A/N: Slade, you're an asshole in denial, and denying a whole lot of ass... Stop worrying about your dick and worry about Dick... I'm out of puns and you're having homosexual urges.
Thank you! I'm here all week! And speaking of week, next week's chapter might be pushed to Friday. I'm traveling out of town again and don't know that I'll have time to write until Friday. I'll do my best to post before then, but I make no promises.