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Take your Medicine	By : Imaginary Category: DC Verse Cartoons - Teen Titans > Slash - Male/Male > Robin/Slade Views: 8215 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, nor the characters of the series, nor do I make any money or profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Another thousand thanks to my beta SladinForever for correcting my mistakes and pointing out my flaws, I really appreciate that. And also, a big hug and cookies for those who have commented so far! I really love all my reviews!

But now, on with the story!

Take Your Medicine, Chapter 4 (Edited by SladinForever)

Slade sat in his chair, looking at the screen in front of him with a glazed look. He sat with his back straight, leaning his chin vigorously on his left hand knuckles, while at the same time, skillfully playing with a normal ballpoint pen that had been lying on his desk. With fast motions, he rolled it around his fingers like a miniature bo staff. The movements of his fingers and wrist were elaborate and controlled even if he didn't pay any attention to his actions. This was one of those things that he had to master to be really good at it: a sleight of hand and the ability to keep control at any given moment. He had found out that playing with his pen was really soothing to his nerves as he directed his frustration to some outlet, rather than piling it up.

If to be really honest, Slade didn't know if the night before was a failure or a success. In a way, he was really mad at himself. How could he have fallen into an obvious trap like that! But on the other hand, he was genially amused. Someone out there had decided to get him and get him for good. Who they were, Slade didn't know. He didn't even know their motives for crying out loud.

Slade calmly set the pen back on the table, folded his fingers together, and placed them under his chin. He started to sort out the events of the night he picked Robin up. All of the resources were clear and safe, and just for their sake, trustworthy. The original plan was to just break into a science research lab that was currently working on this new prototype of an immunity-seizing virus. It could be easily modified to either destroy the whole immune system or to strengthen and protect its host. It would make the host practically immortal, making it completely safe from any possible disease they might be suffering from. As for saving the virus, the only requirement was that it couldn't touch anything organic. So it was kept in a glass vile, hidden behind nearly impossible to hack security doors and kept inside an indestructible safe that only authorized personal could open. The virus could be a great weapon, a salvation, a cure to heal fatal diseases, or something that could make sure you die slow and painfully at your own weakness.

At this point, Slade smiled, practically grinned behind his mask. This was something he considered as a slight lead. Now he could at least be sure that he was rubbing elbows with professionals. Something that would need planning—at least nearly as much as this—couldn't be done by a simple protagonist. They would like to have someone of Slade's stature out-of-the-way; the sooner the better. The scheme would need months of preparing; all the materials, expenses, even outsiders had to believe that they were actually working for a super virus. Even the slightest bit of information of the mission could not leak out from the inner circle. Everything needed to look realistic. Even the government would need to fall into that trap to make them even more believable. So no wonder Slade made a mistake.

That wasn't the thing that angered him most though. No, he was mad for getting caught. They had noticed him coming in the very second he lay foot on the soil of that old farm. It had been a perfect setup for the scene; not too far from the city, but far enough away from curious trespassers. And of course, if they were going to make a virus, they'd need some guinea pigs to test it on. But, anyway, the whole task had gone to waste when he noticed there was no virus to begin with and that he was surrounded by enemy units. But, now, Slade considered it as luck, even if he didn't believe in such a thing—or fate for that matter. He had been able to set the alarms off. This resulted in the Titans noticing and coming in to take care of the situation. That's what seemingly caused the mysterious man to flee the scene, leaving him as a guilty kid that had been caught red-handed.

Anyway, Slade would need to keep a low profile for at least a week to get to know his new adversary. And, as if being ordered, Robin, the Boy Wonder, just appeared at the scene. He was like a silver blade, ready to be taken. No one could refuse a gift like that. And because he would have to keep a low profile, it would just be a chance of tactic: try to get in that thick head of the Boy Wonder. It would certainly be fun as long as it would last, seeing what made Robin tick.

Once again, Slade was interrupted from his thoughts by a frantic rustle of bed sheets and somewhat loud groans from his younger companion. In his short time of observing him, he had already found out, in his current state, that Robin was not one to sleep in peace. Every once in a while, he kept tossing and turning in his sleep, mumbling some words under his breath. If that wasn't enough, he sometimes drifted in and out of sleep before his brain even registered he had awakened, and then fell back in his slumber. Sometimes, Slade was even caught by surprise when he would suddenly jolt up, sitting straight and panting hard, and, even more surprisingly, still asleep. This didn't last long because he usually fell back and rested more peacefully for a little while before tossing and turning again.

Slade actually found this highly amusing. Normally, Robin slept rather peacefully. Hell, he never even snored—that was a relief all in its own. And it was odd to see a young boy figure sleeping in his bed. Slade himself rarely slept, if at all even. There was always something keeping him awake. Either he was too busy or had something he would prefer to do instead. His body didn't mind the lack of sleep at all.

Once again, Slade turned back to work on his computer, but hearing the presence was distracting him rather effectively. He wasn't used to having a companion in his personal quarters. The reason for this was really simple: he never had company. Slade's "army" consisted of robots only. If he happened to have an ally, or partner, he usually didn't even show them his headquarters. If he did, there were only a few places he would show them. His room was not one of them. But with Robin, he would make an exception. This was mainly because of his plan of gaining the boy's trust. Hiding the obvious wasn't helping the matter. If he was ever going to have Robin as his apprentice, he would find out sooner or later anyway. So why even bother hiding it?

Once again, Slade tried to concentrate on his work to find out more about his adversary. Unfortunately, the only thing he found out so far was that they had done an excellent job at hiding their motives and that they really were working in secret. So far, he had not been able to find a single bit of information or slightest hint of their doing. These people had successfully stayed fully anonymous. Congratulations on that.

With a sigh, Slade was ready to rest the case for a while. He had been trying to seek out information since his return to headquarters. Still with no luck, he was starting to think at this point, it would be rather unlikely to find anything. Maybe they would do something noticeable in the near future. Casually, Slade turned his chair around, taking a new course of work. He was slightly glad to find that Robin had ended up sleeping rather serenely for now. The best part was not having to deal with him glaring or attacking him at every given opportunity. The downside? Well, during moments like this, Slade really wished he, too, could sleep.

Robin suddenly jolted up once again, feeling out of breath. He felt like he hadn't rested at all, like he was just tossing and turning in his sleep the whole time. He could even recall having a nightmare, but he couldn't remember anything particular about it. Sitting in the middle of the bed, the sheets entangled him. He was breathless and hot, like he had slept in an oven. It made him feel nauseous. His mouth felt and tasted like he would start vomiting soon.

"Look who is awake. Didn't seem to sleep too well, though, did you?"

Robin tried to swallow his nausea and look at that contemptibly familiar voice in the corner of the room. It seemed that the bastard had been watching him sleep that whole time.

"That's none of your business," he said with a hoarse voice that he wished would've sounded at least a little bit more concerning so Slade would get the hint and leave him the hell alone. Sadly, to Robin's dismay, he sounded like he had swallowed a handful of pebbles.

"Seeing as you are here as my guest, I assure you it is of my concern," Slade said, adding pressure to guest, making it sound like he was there to stay until the one week was over. Robin was once again ready to lash out at him with a verbal objection.

'It's none of your fucking business.'

Robin wanted to say that out loud, but the feeling of nausea was coming back and his gag reflex was starting to give him a clear sign that he was going to vomit soon. His hands quickly shot up to his mouth, trying to keep it in. He jumped off and, as soon as his feet hit solid floor, he almost doubled over and vomited up his nightly snack. Luckily, his semi-strong will helped him keep it all in.

With wide eyes, Robin looked at Slade, who looked back at him with a neutral look. The only gesture he got was of him pointing to a door on his left side. With a quick burst of speed, Robin pulled it open, saw that it was similar to the bathroom door in his quarters, and, with a loud cough, vomited up everything he had in him into the toilet opposite the door. Slade sighed knowingly, seeing as he expected this coming ever since that late night snack. Getting up, he went to see if Robin was okay at the toilet, hearing that his gagging had eased down a bit.

Robin sat on his knees, hugging the toilet. He was a little out of breath. Slade calmly walked to his side and rubbed soothing circles on his back. He noticed that he wasn't entirely able to reach the toilet before giving into his urge to puke. He momentarily ignored the fact that Robin had a small fever and had messed up the entire toilet in less than two seconds. As he flushed the toilet, he grimaced at the smell while handing him a handful of toilet paper that he snatched from the bar beside the door, which wasn't far from the sink and a mirror. Robin took the wad gratefully, wishing he was someone who didn't vomit so messily.

Vomiting was one of those experiences he truly hated. His entire chin was coated in vomit and, somehow, was somehow able to get some on his nose. He wiped his entire face and then threw the paper straight into the toilet, sneezing afterward. A trail of snot had attached itself to both ends, almost making him want to vomit all over again. It was really disgusting. He had little pieces of food not yet completely digested in his mouth. Slade was still stroking small, soothing circles against his back.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Barely…" Robin mumbled, rising to his feet and feeling slightly off.

He walked back to the bed, slumping back onto the mattress while covering his head with his hands to ease his nausea a little. For a long time he just lay there silently, listening to Slade at the toilet. He was probably cleaning up after him. Judging by the clinking of bottles, Robin assumed he was rummaging through the small cabinet above the sink. His assumptions came true the moment Slade appeared before him, holding a clear bottle filled with what looked like murky, wet clay.

"For now, I suggest you drink this broth. It's the only thing I have at hand to ease your stomach." Robin took the bottle from him. "Unless, of course, you want me to hold your hair back while you continue to vomit," Slade said casually, adding a bit of a mocking tone at the end of the sentence.

'Yeah, yeah, whatever.'

Robin didn't feel like starting a fight with him. He waved his hand at Slade dismissively, not even looking at him as he pushed himself up again. He drank everything down without a fight, happily drinking it fast. The liquid tasted bitter and like sand. He was pretty sure he wouldn't have even tried to drink the stuff if he looked at what was in it first. Robin was now gagging and grimacing at the foul taste. Sitting back in his work corner, Slade was laughing at him.

"This better not be a trick…" Robin mumbled angrily, still gagging.

Robin's eyes were tearing up as he winced from the feeling in his stomach. The stuff he drank was stubbornly staying in there. In some weird way, he was glad it did.

"No trick. This is my own self-made broth to heal all flu-type viruses or infections that everyone catches from time to time," Slade said reassuringly, putting the container in the trash. "But don't worry, it works. I have even noted that it works a lot better than those antibiotics they give you at hospitals. The only downside is the taste."

'Hm, since when did Slade start making his own medicines? When had he learned to do such a thing anyway?' Robin thought before pushing those thoughts aside, sort of worried that Slade would poison him.

"I tend to have a little too much free time," Slade said, slightly snickering at Robin, reading his thoughts as though his head was an open book. 'Damn insomnia,' he thought.

With a snort, Robin tried going back to sleep. He didn't really care that much about Slade's company, seeing as he didn't really want to talk at the moment. He was still tired, but he just couldn't get any sleep. He couldn't do much but sigh as he found himself only tossing and turning, unable to go back to sleep.

"What time is it anyway?" he asked groggily.

"Six in the morning," Slade said as he glanced at the clock on his table. "I suggest you rest. You have to overcome that illness of yours."

Robin just gritted his teeth as Slade pointed out the obvious, somehow annoying him to no end. He hated when people did that.

"So what have you planned for this upcoming week?"

That caught Slade off guard. He hadn't even thought of that yet. "Well, I have to keep a low profile for some time, which suits me just fine," he said, starting to get an idea. Now that Robin was here, he could make him do all the dirty work for him. "I haven't gone over any specifics, but I'll need to find out some more information about an organization I have just recently discovered. I may need you to run some small errands. I also plan to have some small training sessions after you get better."

Slade said all of this, sounding like he knew a lot without letting anything big loose. He would only give out minimal information, making Robin think that there was something more.

'Good, now he won't think of me as a complete idiot without a plan.'

"So, is there anything you want? Something to drink perhaps?" Slade asked, seeing that Robin wouldn't fall asleep too quickly. "Water; soda; alcohol?"

Robin hummed, not really wanting anything. But the thought of something to drink was really tempting. He wanted to get rid of the horrible taste in his mouth. Not to mention he wanted to have at least something in his empty stomach, something better than the horrible medicine. With an airy snort, he crossed out alcohol; he wasn't an adult, that was for sure. Water and lemonade were both tempting. Robin had even heard that soda was good after vomiting. Whenever his friends got sick, they always requested soda.

"Soda is fine," Robin replied.

Slade left the room to fetch it. Robin's thoughts had started to wander on their own, not really thinking about anything in specific. Nothing meaningful anyway.

'Wonder what kind of soda Slade has…' Robin found himself thinking after two minutes. He really didn't want anything that special. In fact, he despised the idea of Sprite or 7-Up. '7-Up is good when you're sick, but it's too sweet and full of sugar.' He could have some Fanta, but that wasn't really what he wanted either. 'Nothing orange or fruity, that's for sure.' Wanting to stay on the norm and just drink the only soda he liked, he wished he had Coca Cola. 'Oh please, let it be Coke! And darn him if he brings Pepsi, I refuse to drink that, it tastes like-' Slade came in right then. Robin bolted up to see what he brought. 'Please, let it be Coke!'

"I don't really know what kind of soda you like so I brought you the nearest bottle available," Slade said as he filled two cups and left the bottle on his work table. He approached Robin, one cup in hand. "It's my favorite, so I'll have a cup too."

Robin accepted his share eagerly and happily noted, "Great minds think a like: Coke!"

Slade walked back to his chair, holding his cup in his hands as he watched Robin chug his down. He slowed down after two gulps. He tried to hide his burp, being taught since childhood that it was rude and somewhat embarrassing. Robin looked at Slade then, seeing that he was observing him the whole time, making him feel a little bit nervous. He tried his best to ignore it.

"So, how are you going to drink with your mask on anyway?" Robin asked, taking a small sip.

"Simple: I take it off."

Robin choked from surprise. He was now coughing uncontrollably. "Y-You just t-take it off? After all this?" Robin managed under his breath.

"Well of course not," Slade said knowingly, making Robin feel like an idiot. "I'll wait until you aren't looking."

'Of course he'll keep the mask on…' Robin really felt like a complete airhead. It was like asking if he could go fly around the world on a magical, flying carpet. 'Do I even want to know?'

The thought just crossed his mind. Robin realized he didn't really want to know actually. Of course he was curious. Was Slade so ugly that he decided to hide is face? Well that probably wasn't it. It was only there to hide his identity; to have the advantage of anonymity; to hide his true emotions and stuff; to add mystery. Slade was a logical person. Then how come a metal mask? That thing was probably pushing against his nose all the time, his face pressed between it. Really, if you thought about it, there wasn't much space for his nose in there. Was it even easy to breathe with it on? Maybe it was made of metal for a reason. It would be more durable, cooler, and help strengthen his nerves. If Robin had to wear it, he'd probably get claustrophobic; start suffering from the lack of oxygen; start hyperventilating; faint. Well, maybe since Slade was used to wearing it, if he did get exhausted, he probably wouldn't panic, even if the air suddenly escaped the room.

Wow, Robin really hadn't thought of that before…

'He probably has nerves of steel.'

After that last thought, Robin drank the rest of his soda in silence, not really wanting to say a word. In the end, Slade wasn't that bad to hang around with. He had his some good points and some bad points, just like everyone did. Once the cup was empty, Robin placed it on the nightstand before making his position more comfortable. He yawned loudly as he noticed the sleepiness had already started making its way back to him. His mind started to once again wander and he let it. Strangely, the smell of Slade's bed sheets was somewhat relaxing. It didn't take Robin long to fall asleep once again.
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Take your Medicine