Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, ect ect ect...
It was all in his voice.
For one oblivious to all other aspects, this trait was the only thing left to judge him by, and in his case, it was more than enough reason to become completely subjugated by it.
Any word, even synonymous to superlative, would fall short of accurately expressing such tone. That low, soft purr, magnified by the recordings poor quality, refused to be conveyed by the ears. Instead, the sound would enter through every exposed pore on your skin; only more intensified by perspiration, and penetrated deep throughout your body like a lethal toxin.
Distracted by the sound's prevailing existence, the words it forged seem to go completely overlooked. Even without any comprehensible language, however, the simple sound of the phrase, the rise and fall of pitch, the lack or subtle quantity of hesitance, determined its intention.
Any resistance that Robin displayed as Slade would attempt an advantage upon him was fake, simply an attempt to hide the truth.
For weeks, the Titans have been trying to bring down their most portentous archrival, Slade. In an attempt to identify him, they have recorded their previous encounters via security cameras all over the city. Robin spent long nights in front of large, infrared screens, and falling type, his efforts always in vain.
Each night was as unsuccessful as the last, but Robin persisted. It was during his fifth sleepless night that he realized something. He lifted his head from his folded arms and looked up at the screen through half his eyelids. It displayed a frozen image of Slade. The picture was unclear, and it bounced about the screen as if the videotape was fighting to move forward, but was held back by the suppressive influence of its subject.
Influential indeed. Even as the edges of the picture shook about erratically, the dark figure in the center didn't budge, like a brig of steel that could never be bent, or a wall of cement that could never be broken. Robin slammed down the rewind button for the simple satisfaction of seeing the wall of concrete move. He released the button before he went back to far, only to be met by Slade's dreadfully breathtaking voice,
"Hello, Titans…"
It had been five nights and he couldn't bear it any more. He no longer heard the voice, he felt it; the sound struck a cord in Robins mind that was far from fear, but he hated it all the same. From the back of his neck and trailing all the way down his spine, burning a hole in his chest, the flame eating away at him from the inside; an attack that he was completely defenseless towards, as if he was bringing it upon himself.
In a fit of desperate rage, Robin snatched an empty soda bottle and threw it at the screen, shouting violently. It simply passed through the image and crashed on the ground nearby, just like everything he had ever tried to throw at him. Every punch, every kick, everything passed through him as if he were a ghost: hollow and unaffected.
As a matter of fact, he was a ghost. He was around every corner, peering out of every window, and poisoning his every thought, but never really there.
How do I get him out of my head? He thought, staring out to the city park just across the bay. He went there to clear his head whenever he couldn't sleep, but he knew now that Slade could be out there, just waiting for him to drop all his defenses, it was too dangerous. Just then, he had another thought:
Maybe just dangerous enough…The angel on his right shoulder was pleading with him to stay, but under these certain circumstances the devil on his left made much more sense.
If he were out there, you wouldn't expect it, would you?He regretted going the second he stepped foot on the city banks. Slade was everywhere. He was waiting for him at the end of the dock, he as walking towards him out of the fog, he was hiding in the trees; there was nowhere Robin looked that didn't have his pearly gray eye hiding somewhere in the shadows.
He finally found peace sitting on a park bench overlooking the bay. It was so quiet, too quiet. He soon realized that among the silence, Slade's voice grew even louder.
Too fast for you, Robin? Looks like you've gotten rusty since I was away.
If there was one thing Robin found more entrancing than hearing Slade speak, it was hearing himself say his name. It was a habit for him to say it whenever they met, and Slade always returned the favor. It was enough to be drowned in his deep, sensual voice, but to hear it regard such an unworthy subject was like a blessing. Robin spent a few moments musing of this pleasure before he unintentionally let his lips slip. "Slade…"
"You called?"
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter coming soon! Reviews are mucho appreciated!