A/N: Welcome to my new story. Please take the time to read the A/N at the bottom. This introduction-chapter is 12 pages. Normal chapters should be 8-10. We'll see.

BIG thanks to my beta-muse The Darkest Half who is very helpful with ideas and has pre-read 4 chapters or so of this so far (does anyone envy her? Don't… I nag her with annoying questions a lot… ;) ) She has helped me find some spelling-mistakes too, but her MAIN purpose has been as a sounding-board, so I would like to claim all the remaining mistakes as mine… ;)

This is a very dark story when it comes to the setting, but, in context, it's meant to be pretty funny. Will that work? You'll be the judge of that, I'm sure…

To those who go; "where the hell is Black Sheep 3!?" It's coming, I promise. But I started this in September/October or something last year, so I thought it had to be first…

Will update about once a week…

2060

Chapter 1: Of Men and Birds

The Brotherhood of Evil succeeded with their plan to capture and freeze every hero on earth. Slade was never a part of their group, but he was there… waiting in the wings.

As he had predicted, after only a few months, the 'brotherhood' was falling apart, internal strife for domination was, as so often, the cause.

That's when he stepped in.

The world could only function with one leader, and that would be him.

Fifty years later, the world was a completely different place. Its people and cities decimated beyond imagination, and the survivors were ruled with an iron fist by the one-eyed man, who had long since shed his mask. Slade wanted them to see his face, wanted them to know that it was a fellow human who was doing this to them.

They were so easy to control; if fear didn't do it, then he had other tools at his disposal. Pain. Drugs. And for those pleasing him; influence, food, even sex. Slade made sure they got anything they desired, except the one thing belonging to him: power. Absolute power.

The man controlled millions of strings, and he did it beautifully. Some days though, as he thought back, something red and green and yellow flickered across his memories. A certain bird, not so easily controlled…

Robin had never been so cold in his life. He felt like he was fighting his way to the surface of a deep lake, the water sluggish and half frozen around him, trying to pull him down.

"Hello, Robin."

He slowly opened his eyes. He knew that voice, but he had never seen the real face of the man speaking. The white hair, the short, white beard, the cold, blue-gray single eye, the other covered by a dark patch… all this registered in Robin's mind, if just barely. So did the man's next words.

"Welcome to my world."

When Robin woke again, he was a little bit more alert. He felt that he was lying down, on his back, on something padded, but not very comfortable. He moved his fingers, only slightly, and the tips scraped over the material he was resting on; paper. Robin put two and two together and came up with a hospital bed, or rather one of those beds in the doctor's office they make you sit on when they do your physical. He carefully let his hands explore some more, finding that it was indeed as narrow as one of those. He opened his eyes, again slowly. It was not how he wished it; it was just the only way it could be done. White ceiling. Robin slowly let his head fall to the left… and saw a nightmare.

He didn't understand it at all at first, thinking it had to be a screen, or a picture, but he soon realized, that what he was looking through, was a window. An enormous, floor to ceiling, glass pane, stretching the length of the room. The bed was placed very close to it, making Robin's head spin for a moment, as he looked down, but, as soon as he knew it was real, he raised his eyes again. Destruction. A big city was spreading out before him, but it was mostly ruins, and, he spotted, construction. He had no idea which city it was, it didn't look like Jump, but how was he to tell?

"Admiring my work, Robin?"

That voice again. So it hadn't been a nightmare.

Robin turned his head again, to the right this time, wishing he could snap it around, but the strange, slushy ice water was somehow still surrounding him. He finally saw the man again. He was real. Probably. He still wasn't wearing his mask, and now, the second time Robin saw his face, it was a bit clearer. The white hair and beard was still there, though, and so was the adhesive patch covering the right eye. The face itself was surprisingly striking, but perhaps a bit too angled and masculine too be called Hollywood-handsome. There was no steel armor, either; Slade was wearing a white military-shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and dark pants, which was as much as Robin's eyes could make out at the moment.

"Slade?" Robin wanted his voice to be a hiss, to sound defiant, but it was only a weak whisper.

"At your service." The man gave him a mock bow, and Robin frowned slightly.

"What… happened?" Again, his voice sounded so weak. He hated it! He tried to sit up, but could only raise his head slightly before he sank back again.

"You lost. I won. That simple." the man above him smirked. Robin closed his eyes briefly. He was so tired, but he knew, that if he just waited, the man would start talking. Villains always did. They fucking loved the sound of their own voice, the whole lot of them. Robin looked up again, trying to focus enough to glare at the man, when he realized that, just as Slade, he wasn't wearing his mask either. The lenses in front of his eyes weren't there, and the very slight pull on his skin he always felt when he wore his disguise, was also missing. The consequences of this rushed through his mind. If Slade knew, then Bruce-

Just then Slade started speaking, and soon those consequences didn't matter anymore.

The man told him what had happened after he had been frozen, in many painful details. How most of the people in the world now were raised in institutions where they were tested from childhood, and divided into groups. Those who had the brains for it, got an education in different fields, like medicine, architecture or chemistry. Those with good physique were often chosen for hard labor, since it took a lot of human sweat and muscle to rebuild the world to Slade's specifications. Some were even chosen specifically for prostitution. Slade had discovered that sex was a very efficient way to reward and control especially the male part of the population, and, since most lived in institutions or in work-groups, there was little chance of a family-life. There were special breeding-institutions for that. So, after a long week of labor, the tired factory-worker was free to visit one of the many brothels. The more important you were, the more visits you got, and the more exclusive the places became. Your taste didn't matter. Man, woman, old, young, thin, fat, pain, bondage, pregnant, golden showers, scat, cross-dressing… even animals were available. There were no limits and no rules.

Most children, like most people today, was just ordinary, though. Good at some things, but no geniuses. Those went to the factories. There are many things little hands can do, and there were no shortages of replacements. When they got older, if they did get older, they got sent away to other areas, factories, farms, building-sites, mines… There were always work to be done. If they were lucky enough to get too old for those kinds of jobs, they might get sent back to the factories where they started out, doing small, easy but menial and repetitive tasks, until their bodies gave up. Even now, after only fifty years, it was clear that few lived that long.

After death, well... There was no need for cemeteries, as they were a waste of valuable land. The bodies were burned and the ashes reused, mostly in building materials.

Slade didn't tell Robin all the details, but the boy was very good at filling in the blanks. Then the man started getting personal.

"It's the year 2060, Robin. Most of the heroes frozen that day, didn't survive. The ones who has, are entombed in special, secret, chambers, deep within the bedrock, the Americans ones are mostly half across the continent from here, so please… Put all thoughts of rescue out of your mind now."

Robin didn't answer. He just closed his eyes again for moment before turning and looking out the window.

"Where are we?"

"New York. The Empire State Building. It was once the tallest building in the world. It held that title for more than forty years, and now, when it is almost one hundred and thirty years old, I have made it true once more."

"So you knocked everything else down for the sake of an old skyscraper?" Robin muttered.

"What can I say? I like Art Deco. I did some renovations and changes, of course. These windows, for example, but the rest I have kept pretty much as it was once built."

Robin managed a disdainful snort. He would have loved to tell the man what a deranged psychopath he was, but he figured he would save that until he would be able duck the answering punch. He hoped it would be soon.

"Nothing to say, Robin? You are awfully quiet…" Slade chuckled.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Slade."

"Such language for a hero. Did the time as an ice-cube do something to your brain I wonder? We have to check that later, but, for now, I will grant you your wish. I'm sure you have a lot to think about."

Robin did. Fifty years. He had been frozen for fifty years. His friends… no, he didn't want to think of them as dead, no matter what Slade said. He could be lying. He could be lying about all of this! Maybe it had only been a few hours, maybe what he was looking at was a hologram?

But in his heart he knew this nightmare was real. Suddenly something else dawned on him. He could pretend, because he knew it was pretending, that his friends were really all okay, but there were other people in his life too. Alfred. Alfred was dead. Robin shivered. He was dead. He had been an old man, fifty years ago… a sob fought its way out of Robin's chest. He didn't want to cry, not here, not now, not while Slade might be watching. He drew a deep breath, but he couldn't stop a tear from escaping from the corner of his eye, dropping down on the paper he was laying on.

He shivered again. The room was warm, very warm, but it didn't help. He tried to move more of his body, and his legs slowly started to respond. When he felt the paper against them too, and against his back, his breath hitched. Was he naked? He carefully touched his side and sighed from relief. There was a cloth there, wrapping around his hips. It felt strange, but at least he wasn't completely nude.

He closed his eyes again. All he wanted to do was sleep, and, hopefully, when he woke up, it would be in the Tower, to the sound of Cy and BB playing stank-ball, with Star yelling at them and the smell of waffles and Raven's herbal tea coming from the kitchen… He squeezed his eyes closed tighter. That wouldn't happen. Ever again. He pushed all the happy memories aside.

This is useless. I can't let myself go to pieces! Robin scolded himself angrily. I need to DO something! I need goals! Okay… goal number one; get on my feet. I have to try to move, or I'll never get out of here… which is like… goal number one-thousand-something it feels like right now, but… okay… first goal first…

He slowly, but methodically, started to work the stiffness out of his muscles and joints. He paced himself, making sure he didn't rush. If he had been frozen for half a century, there might be damages. He felt relatively well, though, no pain, just a bit of numbness. After a while he had enough strength to raise his hand in front of his face, and he studied his fingers closely, looking for signs of frostbite, but there were none. Good.

He took a big breath and started pushing himself up on his elbows. It was quite a struggle, but at least he started to feel a bit warm again, and now he could finally see the whole room.

It wasn't big, maybe… the length of two medium sized cars, and the width of … well… a small one. Robin frowned in irritation, maybe Slade had been right, maybe he was brain-damaged… thinking about a room in the sense of cars? What did that come from? Robin suddenly blinked. Something about cars had been on his mind for awhile; he just hadn't realized it until now. He turned his head and looked out the window again. No cars. Well. Almost no cars. There were builders and diggers, and the occasional truck, but, even from this vantage point, Robin couldn't see anything that could be described as actual traffic. No cars. No people. Robin knew there were a few, naturally, he could see little spots moving far below, but… it was so weird.

Well, that's ONE way to get rid of the smog… he thought dryly to himself, and glanced up at the clear-blue sky above. At least that explained his weird car-parallel.

Robin shook his head and went back to exploring the room. He couldn't let any feelings in right now; he had to look at everything from a logical, investigating point of view. The main thing about it, and the most unsettling, was that the other side of his prison also consisted of glass. No sign of a door, and on the other side… an office? It looked very much like an ordinary office with a large black desk, its left side facing Robin.

Slade was seated behind it, in a comfortable-looking black leather-chair, seemingly scribbling on a piece of paper, and Robin briefly studied the man's profile, before continuing. Behind the man was another floor-to-ceiling window, making this a corner office.

A computer sat to the side of the desk, a couple of white stuffed visitor-chairs in front of it… The whole place seemed to be black and white. Besides the visitor-chairs, the desk also faced a large door of frosted glass. Slade's symbol, the large, sinister looking 'S' was embossed on it, and Robin was actually a bit glad to see it. At least some things were the same. He let his eyes carry on darting across the room. There were a couple of book-shelves, a small conference-table with chairs, and a cabinet, which was closed at the moment, but Robin thought it might contain a bar or even a small kitchenette, as it seemed to be built into the wall. It was a rather large room, and his area only made up part of the side, as it was closed off with another glass wall at the end. Robin fought to turn his head back, toward the outer corner of the room, which also was the corner of the building, and found that to be glass as well.

Robin blinked.

"It's like a damn fish-tank!" he didn't realize that he had spoken the words out aloud until he got an answer.

"Very good, Robin, but I'd like to think of it as… a display cabinet."

The man glanced up at him for a moment and smirked, but then got back to working. Slade hadn't spoken loudly, and Robin had barely whispered, but nonetheless they had been able to hear each other perfectly through the glass. Robin figured they must be some kind of speaker-system or something, connecting the rooms. He decided it would be good to remember that.

He didn't answer the man, but managed a glare this time. It was useless though, since Slade didn't look up to see it. Robin muttered and checked out his own area instead. There were depressingly little to see. There was a very small partition, made of frosted glass like the office door, which hid a toilet. The partition, the open end facing out the window, was only high enough to hide him if he sat down, and, even then, his knees would probably show, but at least it gave him some privacy. There was a small sink as well, outside of the partition, and Robin suddenly realized that he was parched.

Apart from that there was nothing else.

Robin wanted to get to that sink so badly, but right now it felt like hours before he would even be able to stand up. He would have to ask for water. Pride was a very hard thing to get over, though.

I have to. How am I going to get to goal one-thousand-something if I die of thirst?

"Hey…" he started, hesitantly, before continuing. "Your display specimen is thirsty." Robin kept his voice cold and disdainful, trying to show Slade exactly what he felt about the man's description, and mock it at the same time.

"Well we can't have that, can we, my little bird?" the man chuckled and pressed a button on his desk. Immediately a Slade-bot walked into the room, but Robin had a feeling he had missed a few upgrades over the years. He tried no to stare, but snarled at Slade instead.

"Come in here and call me that to my face, bastard!"

"So weak and still so cocky. I've missed you, Robin, I really have. And about the little nick-name… get used to it."

"I'm touched. Really. Not as touched as you, obviously, but…" Robin muttered.

"Shouldn't you wait to threaten and insult me until after you get the water?" Slade sounded amused.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something for then too." Robin smirked. His eyes were on the robot, however, as it had gone to the cabinet, and, yes, there was a small combined kitchenette and bar behind the doors. The teen watched as the bot filled a large glass of water, and Robin's thirst rose to new, painful, heights.

He fully expected Slade to tease him, to refuse him the water for some time, perhaps even pour it out in front of him, but the man seemed to have gotten back to work and the robot walked up to the glass wall and touched it, making part of it slide aside. As soon as it walked in, the glass very quickly slid into place again.

Robin missed to see the exact spot the bot pressed, too focused on the water, and got annoyed with himself. Soon, the glass at his lips washed the irritation away, though, along with his thirst. The Slade-bot was still holding the glass for him, but Robin was thankful at first. It was all he could go to keep himself upright enough to actually drink. As he felt some of his strength returning, however, he reached out for it.

Suddenly his wrist was caught in a steel grip. Literally. Robin blinked. He hadn't even seen the hand move.

"Hey, what-?"

"It is programmed not to let you close to any dangerous materials." Slade told him offhandedly from the outer room.

"But… how…?"

"Oh, the speed? This is only a household robot, Robin. The battle-droids are much faster."

"Can you tell it to let go? I just wanted hold the damn glass myself!"

"It will let go automatically if you stay still and nonthreatening for twenty seconds." Slade told him. "The same will happen if you make any moves the robot deems as aggressive or attempts to escape."

Robin glared at the metal-man, but did as Slade had suggested and stayed still. He took the time to study the mechanical wonder. It had an entire head full of light and motion-sensors, that is, it could see all around at once. No sneaking up in it. Its joints were, obviously, double-jointed to let it move in any direction, which would make it very difficult to fight. Robin already knew he had to learn how, however. Suddenly the bot released him and offered him the water again. Swallowing his resentment, Robin gulped the rest of it down, and then, promptly, puked it all up again.

"Maybe I should have warned you about drinking too much at once?" Slade said in a deceivingly innocent voice.

"Yeah, thanks, asshole." Robin growled. His throat hurt like hell, and he was very dizzy. The robot, however didn't seem to have taken his throwing up as an attack, and was busy cleaning up the mess, which mostly consisted of the water.

It really was a house-hold robot, Robin discovered. The teen wasn't able to see how, because he had collapsed back on the cot, too weak to hold himself up any longer, but the room suddenly smelled of detergent. Soon enough, the bot started to clean Robin's face and chest as well. The teen didn't object; he was too tired. He startled, though, as the Slade-bot lifted him, its arm extending and folding until it could balance Robin on one, like cradling a newborn, and then he heard the rustle of paper below. Robin faintly remembered that there were rolls of paper fastened to the beds in the doctor's office, and figured that was the case here as well, the old was simply torn off, and new, fresh paper pulled out. Instant bedding.

Robin tried to fight his embarrassment at being looked after like a baby. There was no logical reason to being embarrassed, since the alternative was to lie there, covered in his own vomit.

He expected to be left alone after that, but soon the bot returned, supported him so he could sit up slightly, and brought a fresh glass of water to his lips. Robin took a gulp, swirled it around in his mouth, and spit it out on the floor, before swallowing a few more. He needed to get the taste out of his mouth, and frankly, it was Slade's floor, so what the hell, right?

Unfortunately the robot thought he had thrown up again, and repeated the whole procedure. When it was all over, Robin got a few more gulps of water, and, the teen got almost teary-eyed with happiness; a cracker. Robin chewed the tasteless thing carefully, received another sip of water and was let down.

His eyes heavy, Robin decided to sleep, if they would let him and, as he wasn't handled any more, he slowly drifted off.

It was wonderful to wake up again, only because he was much more alert this time. He even managed to sit up, though he moved like a ninety-nine year-old with double hip fractures.

A strange thought popped into his head.

"Holy shit, I'm sixty-five!"

"Pardon?"

Robin's head shot up. Had he been talking aloud again? He really had to convince Slade that he needed that brain-scan.

"I'm sixty-five." Robin just answered. "Years. Old."

"Yes, well. In a sense, I guess you are." Slade grinned at him, putting the pen down. Had he been working all this time? Robin glanced outside. The sun was setting and he was pretty sure it was about noon when he was awake last. "It will make you happy to know, though, that you don't look your age."

"Wait… how come you're not dead?" Robin asked. "Not that I'm complaining or anything… well… actually I am, you should be a rotting pile of bones, but then again, you should never have been born…"

"I'm immortal." Slade shrugged, picking his pen up once more.

"Marvelous." Robin sighed. He had suspected that, from the few facts he had been able to find about the man, but now he got it confirmed.

"Yes, I rather think so myself." Slade chuckled.

"Pretty lonely in that club, isn't it?" Robin smirked. Then he looked down. "What the fucking hell am I wearing!?" It looked like a mini-skirt. No, in fact it looked like a wide belt. The fabric-like thing was wrapped very low around his hips and covered only the essentials. And barely. The material was rough, like thick, black gauze, and Robin could see that it was only one strip of it, the ends overlapping each other, sticking together like Velcro. He didn't recognize the fabric, but, then again, he had other things on his mind.

"That? Isn't that a nice little piece…?" Slade chuckled, eyeing Robin. "Especially when you have your legs parted."

Robin slammed his knees shut, banging them together painfully.

"You… you…" he started.

"Now, now, my little bird… you were frozen, remember? Your skin did suffer a bit of damage. Did you think we just pressed 'defrost' and here you are? No… you've been recovering in a special defrosting unit for the past seven months, which carefully got all your internal organs and cells to start working again."

"What… damages…?" Robin asked, trying to digest yet another piece of unwanted information. He ran his hands over his arms, but they felt fine. Still a bit numb, and something felt different, but-

"All your hair follicles, for example, died." Slade told him.

Robin's hand immediately went to his head, but he felt a full head of hair there, and glared at Slade.

"Oh, we put quite the effort into reviving the ones on your head, your eyebrows and eyelashes. We had to do it one by one, however, so we didn't bother with doing it anywhere else…" the man leered a bit and his eye flickered to Robin's crotch suggestively.

The boy blushed and pressed his knees together harder. Now he knew what had felt different on his arms; no hair.

"Why did you bother at all, then?" he growled. Not that he wanted to be a Lex Luthor look-alike, but… The hair on his head had felt okay, though, but a bit strange; very soft, and longer than he was used to in some places and shorter in some. It kept falling over his forehead and he hated that. Some of Bruce's girlfriends had once told him how cute he looked in bangs, and Robin had avoided that style since. What boy wanted to look 'cute'? Robin glanced around the room, but there was no mirror, not even over the sink.

"Well, if I didn't, you would just look silly… and I only want pretty things in my display cabinet." Slade smirked, clearly teasing him.

"That's why I'm wearing this, then, perv?" Robin snarled, gesturing to the black fabric.

"Well, no. As I said, your skin is very delicate. Preferably you would be kept completely naked, but I allowed you that… the material is relatively new, it fights infection, has very little impact on skin, and is used mostly on burns and open wounds. I thought you might appreciate it, but maybe not? Maybe I should take it away?"

"No! No, it's fine!" Robin blurted out. He was trying to think of a biting comeback to hide his desperation, when Slade continued.

"Then say 'thank you'." the man smirked.

Robin glared back.

"I'm not joking, my little bird… if I don't hear those words very soon, my display-cabinet will draw a lot more looks in the near future… and I have a meeting here later tonight."

"You fuck-"

"Not those words, Robin."

The teen closed his eyes for a fraction of a second.

"Thank you."

"There. Wasn't that hard, was it? Good boy. Now, as soon as we are sure your skin can handle it, I will give you clothes. Since you don't seem to be in pain -are you?" Slade interrupted himself to ask the question, and Robin shook his head. "Good, well, then it will probably be as soon as tomorrow. Now, I have a few things to take care off, but don't worry. I'll be back soon."

Robin made a small, angry sound at the back of his throat, but it was ignored. Slade left the room, and Robin ripped the paper-sheet in half out of frustration. He had lost. He thought he was doing pretty well for himself. Sure, he was scared and he was mourning, but he was mostly shocked at the moment, and he had hidden it all so very well behind taunts and banter… and then Slade had to go and do that… Robin felt his eyes burn.

Suddenly there was a movement in the corner, which scared him half to death, before he realized that it was the robot. It hadn't gone away, but simply folded itself into a small cube, which Robin hadn't noticed. It now came up to the bed, and Robin risked jumping off it. He landed rather ungracefully, and took a few steps away, but all the thing was interested in was replacing the paper-sheet.

As he was on his feet, he hobbled over to the sink to wash his face and drink a bit more water. Behind the partition he unwrapped the strange gauze and dared a glance downwards. He winced. He looked like a damn kid. A rather well endowed kid, but none the less… Since Slade wasn't in the room, he tried to go to the bathroom, but nothing, it seemed, had traveled far enough down yet. He suspected his body must have been emptied while defrosting and hoped to God everything would really work as usual.

The robot had gone to re-fold itself in the corner again, and Robin glared at it, deciding that, as soon as he was well enough, he would go kick the cube. Just on principle.

In fact… why wait?

Five seconds later Robin stood, swearing, balancing on one foot, as the other was held in a firm grip. Only a hand had shot out from the cube, but it had done so before Robin's foot had connected with it. Which might be a good thing, since a naked foot connecting with metal, seldom came out as the victor.

Twenty seconds later and the hand let go. Robin was blushing and thanking his lucky stars that Slade hadn't walked in. He really had to think about what he was doing from now on. He went to sit at the bed again, only to stand up a moment later. He was tired and restless at the same time. The room was still very warm, but still he shivered now and then. He went to investigate if the sink had warm water, but it didn't. Great.

At that moment Slade walked in, and Robin was reminded of his little defeat previously, by the man's smirk. Robin glared back, but his eyes shifted to the men following in Slade's footsteps. Four of them, wearing identical suits with the Slade logo on the left breast pocket.

I wonder if that's what I'll be wearing tomorrow? Robin thought grimly. He didn't kid himself, though; he would wear anything, as long as it was clothes.

"Sir?" one of the men said, spotting Robin.

"Oh, don't mind him. New pet of mine. He will be quiet and behave, won't you, my little bird?"

"Here's a bird for ya." Robin answered, and flipped him off.

Robin had meant to turn his back on them all, but the looks on Slade's associate's faces were so fascinating; he couldn't tear his eyes away. The mix of shock and fright, and especially the way their eyes darted from him to Slade, were remarkable. One of them even took a step back. Robin's own eyes widened somewhat and he glanced over at Slade, who looked… pleased? Robin frowned.

"He isn't trained yet… I'll get around to it." the man chuckled, and turned to the men. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Robin walked around for a bit, but as soon as he moved, he noticed the men's eyes on him, so he finally stretched out on the hospital bed. The bed itself did seem to have a few possibilities, but he would wait to explore those. He didn't want to activate the damn cube again. He turned over on his stomach, surreptitiously checking to see if his so called, 'coverings' actually did cover everything. It did. Very barely. If he bent over in the least, half his ass would be showing.

No sleeping on my side, then. Robin told himself. Especially not with my back towards the room.

He rested his head on his crossed arms. First, he looked out the window, but it had turned rather dark outside by now, so there was nothing much to see. Instead he turned his attention to the meeting, as he might learn something important. He didn't. It was mostly numbers and terms Robin had never heard of before. He could still hear them fine, however, so Robin scratched the idea of a microphone at Slade's desk, it must be something covering the whole room. He did find out one thing, though; if someone had information that didn't correspond with Slade's or, the horror, had a different opinion, the man in question turned almost sickly. There were lots of "forgive me, but…" and "if I might...", and, in all this, Slade hadn't even looked displeased once. In fact he appeared to be reason itself, almost benevolent, but it didn't fool Robin. The men were acting like this for a reason.

Robin studied them. All seemed to be around 40-45. They had grown up in this world; they didn't know anything else… Robin shivered, although not from cold this time. Growing up in a world where Slade ruled… he wondered what horrors these poor men had seen.

He decided to play the nice pet, as long as they were there, that was. He really didn't want to upset them any more, besides, he was tired. Even though he tried to stay awake, his eyes felt heavy, and he was soon asleep.

Robin was surprised when he woke up to a sunrise. He guessed he must have been really exhausted to have slept a whole night.

He was alone, except for the cube, and rose to do some stretches, back towards the window and mindful so the gauze didn't ride up. It didn't, however, even though it wasn't supposed to bother the skin, it seemed to stay in place very well, something Robin was rather glad for.

Small blessings… might be all I get from now on… he thought grimly.

He walked around his prison for a while. It was really small. High ceiling though, so he didn't feel all too claustrophobic.

Right… I got goal number one down… I can move about pretty well… what should goal number two be? Robin's eyes flitted to the world outside. No… that's too big, I need something smaller first. Okay… goal number two; leave this room… if only for a few minutes, and under heavy guard, it doesn't matter…

Pretty pleased with his goal, even though he didn't know how to achieve it yet, Robin looked around once more. Still nothing new. Big surprise. He suddenly felt the need to pee, and did so, again thinking about small blessings, just happy that some water made it to his bladder. Afterwards his stomach growled. He was so hungry he almost felt nauseous, which was weird.

Well. This cell didn't come with a fridge, as far as he knew… unless…

Robin approached the cube.

"Hey! You! Slade-bot. I'm hungry. Come on… err… activate! No? Wait, I know what gets you going…" Robin grinned and returned to the bed, ripping the sheet. Just as predicted, the Slade-bot unfolded, and went to exchange it. Robin tried to get in its way, but only ended up being caught for twenty seconds again.

"Food? Feeeed meeee! Not getting musical-references are you…? Err… cracker? Robin wants a cracker?" Robin joked dryly, but the bot only let him go, as the time was up.

"Oh, that was precious; I wished I had that on film…." Slade chuckled outside.

Robin whipped around, earning himself another twenty seconds, because the bot had felt threatened.

"This is just stupid!" he shouted in frustration. "Hey, Slade! Crappy breakfast at this hotel! I won't recommend it to my friends."

"Two flaws in that statement." Slade smirked, as he rounded his desk and sat down. "Firstly, you haven't been served breakfast yet, and so you cannot judge it… and secondly, your friends are all dead."

"That was low." Robin muttered, but didn't let the statement bite. He couldn't afford it.

Not long afterwards, he actually got breakfast; a small sandwich and some sort of bitter-sweet tea. The mug was plastic, so, apparently, it was safe to let him eat on his own.

"I would like to repeat my previous statement." Robin muttered as he wolfed the meager meal down.

"It is only to see how your stomach responds to more solid food. You'll get more later, if you don't throw that up. I didn't bring you back to starve you."

"They why did you?" Robin asked a direct and sincere question for once. "What's the great genius' plan, huh? It doesn't look like you need an apprentice, does it, so why-" Robin suddenly cut himself off and stared at Slade. He then glanced over his shoulder at the city, and even at the Slade-bot in the corner. "I don't fucking believe it…" he muttered.

"What's that, Robin?" the man looked somewhat intrigued.

"You've taken over the world! Everything and everyone is in your control, bends to your every will. You have it all! And you bring me back, because… because you are fucking bored!"

To Be Continued…

A/N: Dear readers. I know some of you might ask me some questions, regarding a certain detail, so I have taken liberty of responding beforehand:

Reader: Oh, Okay… but the Titans aren't really dead, are they?

Me: Yes, they are. They are all dead. All of them. Or frozen. Which is the same in this story. They won't be showing up.

Reader: No, but, you know… really-really?

Me: Really.

Reader: Oh, but, BATMAN surely ise-

Me: ALL. DEAD.

Reader: But SUPERMAN-

Me: The guy is fucking allergic to green rock! YES, HE'S DEAD TOO!

Reader: the JL can't-

Me: DEAD!

Reader –whimpers slightly- Spiderman? Wolverine? Harry Potter?

Me: Not even in the same universe, but if they were: dead.

Readers: -breaks down crying- No, no, they will come rescue him in the end, won't they?

Me: -slams head into desk- Yeah, yeah… they are all fine, sitting around drinking tea, and are just waiting for the right moment to go make everything great… in fact it's all a dream. Happy?

Reader: YES!

Me: I don't think you should read this story…

A/N 2: This is not your usual dark fic. As I said in the top A/N, this is a fun story in a dark setting, but it hasen't really gotten to funny yet. This was just the introduction-chapter, after all…. I am also working with a new Robin, someone who won't take any crap. Do you like him? I'm a bit scared, I don't know what he'll do or say next, or what it might lead to.

This is not "The Peace Contract". Robin was easily broken and controlled in that, not only because of the magic, but also because he feared for his friends.

I don't think this Slade is very interested in breaking him, as Robin has just, to a degree, figured out. This is a Robin vs Slade story; something like a battle of the wits… how far will they go to reach their individual goals? I don't know… we'll find out. I have an ending, though. The last line is already written.

As always, I would love some feedback, criticism and also feel free to point out mistakes, it forces me to learn…

Love

/Wynja