The Apprentice

Persistent

"Robin..." Starfire tries again, "please answer."

The chatter dies down to make way for the silence, everyone waiting on the off chance of a reply. Drips from the stalactites send ripples through the lake below them, their rhythm as persistent as ticking, each one louder and more noticeable than the last as the moment drags on. No static, no crackle from the receiver. Batman looms over Starfire, his presence as imposing as the cave walls around them.

"Turn it off." He orders in a low voice. "We can't take any chances."

Those experienced with Batman's antics, like Superman, would know this tone was his attempt at being gentle. The Titans don't see it that way. Starfire hesitates, lowering the communicator.

"...I wanted to give him the chances." She tells him, before switching it off— cutting Robin out for the first time since his disappearance.

Forced to watch his teammate's face fall once more, protectiveness flares through Cyborg's circuits. He holds up his forearm defiantly, the screen flicking to their channel of communication.

"You hearing this, Robin?" He challenges, "This is your last chance, man. Batman over here is not happy."

"Cyborg." Batman interjects, focusing on the latest obstacle. Cyborg grits his teeth, inflamed by the dark knight's authoritative stare.
He spits into his receiver. "Batman doesn't want you listening in on us deciding what to do with you!"

The dark knight goes eerily still.

Superman motions to intervene again, asking Batman with his eyes, but his friend gives a subtle shake of the head. Superman draws back reluctantly, but trusts his judgement, and funnels the nervous energy instead into wrapping his arms around himself in another self-hug.

"I said, turn it off." Batman repeats slowly, enunciating every word. He takes a step forward. Cyborg mirrors him.

"Why?" Cyborg demands, making good use of his extra two inches of height over Batman, returning every stare with doubled ferocity. "What are you going to say that he can't know about?" Cyborg gets in Batman's face, holding the communicator up between them. The glow illuminates the harsh lines of his expression. 

"Because what I'm looking for is good news."

Silence. Batman doesn't say a word. Locked in a battle of wills, their glares are sharp enough to create sparks between them. With the screen lighting them from below, Cyborg gets a good look at his opponent.

That's when the tension begins to ease. Cyborg sees it all— the beginnings of stubble peppering dull skin, the strain to hold his shoulders high causing them to tremor slightly, and the way the strength of his gaze fades with every passing second— the toll on his body is approaching levels too high to hide.

The other Titans, who shrank away from the confrontation to huddle for comfort, watch with bated breath to see what their teammate will do next. To their amazement, Cyborg releases a drawn-out breath through his nose, visually deflating, considering Batman rather than challenging him.

Batman looks... desperate. Cyborg bites the inside of his cheek, then groans, cursing the idea of backing down.

"Grr.... Fine!" He subsides, backing off. He wills his circuitry to disconnect and disable the channel, and the screen winks out.

The Titans nearly collapse over each other with relief. Batman relaxes almost imperceptibly, offering Cyborg a curt, appreciative nod. Cyborg crosses his arms, making sure Batman knows they're operating on his terms.

"Alright, out with it. What's the big secret?"