Forgotten Bonds

Three - Prepared Efforts

September 12th, 2008. Friday, 8:43 am. 

With newfound hope and zeal in his heart, Robin finished off the food on his plate. He had to admit, the old man was a decent cook. A little overkill on the portions, but not a bad cook at all. Robin felt pleasantly full. His headache had faded away nicely and he noticed that he wasn't in so much pain as earlier. What Wintergreen had given him must've really been a pain killer after all. 

For a brief moment, he was content. 

However, with the lack of anything to do, Robin began to feel edgy. Biding his time was easy to say, but he honestly wasn't sure what was expected of him. 

So, he continued to sit in his chair. A fleeting wish for the power of invisibility ran through his thoughts. He didn't need super strength – he was strong. He didn't need flight – he could through acrobatics. But if he had invisibility, enemies wouldn't know what hit them. Robin held back a smirk. Now that was an enjoyable thought. 

Slade was silent as he stood and left the room. Robin's eyes watched him warily as the man walked to the closed door near the hallway and entered it; shutting the door behind him. Robin thought he heard a distinct click of a lock. 

Interesting. 

Robin's head began to flood with scenarios on escape. That door probably held the way out. Else why would Slade lock it? Robin glued his eyes onto the door. Beyond that door lay his freedom – he was sure of it. He would show Slade that there was no way he could hold him captive for long. 

After all, you can't cage a bird that was meant to be free. 

"Look at me, child," said Wintergreen's voice. Robin blinked and turned his head towards the sound. Wintergreen was sitting in a chair with a damp cloth in his hand, observing him. He held up the cloth to show Robin. 

"You still have some blood on your forehead and from your split lip," said Wintergreen, touching the cool wet cloth to Robin's forehead. Robin automatically laced his tongue over his lips. He tasted the metallic flavor of blood, but he couldn't find the cut anywhere. 

"I don't have a split lip," said Robin, puzzled. 

"You did," said Wintergreen, wiping firmly against Robin's skin. Robin narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing. 

"What do you mean by..." Robin trailed off. He darkened his look as he stared at the old man. Realization dawned on him. "That wasn't just a pain killer, was it?" asked Robin in a slight accusing tone. 

"Indeed it was not," replied Wintergreen. He moved the cloth to Robin's lips and continued, "It's a healing serum. Your broken ribs will be healed within another three minutes or so." 

Robin's eyes widened. 

"Slade created a healing serum? Not only that, it's fast acting?" asked Robin, incredulous and somewhat impressed. The man must be a genius, thought Robin, unable to quench the awe he felt. He had never heard of anyone who had been able to create such an amazing medical discovery. But why doesn't he sell it or offer the formula to the medical community? It could save a lot of people's lives. 

Well, it was really a rhetorical question. There was no way Slade would help other people. Just no way. What was Robin even thinking – Slade helping people? The man would probably laugh outright at that. Probably would ask if Robin had a loose screw in that head of his. 

"Slade is a man of many talents and abilities," said Wintergreen. "He is quite astounding, in fact." 

"Why do you work for him?" asked Robin, as the man continued to wipe the blood away from his face. The man's hands were gentle, yet firm.