Robin's POV

Pain. Cold. Hurt. Blood. Scared.

Those five words were the only ones he could recognize. He lay in a tiny metal box with only a few tiny holes, but they were just enough to make him wish he had a blanket.

Oh who was he kidding--HE WAS FREEZING HIS BUTT OFF. In the dim light of his prison he could just tell that his fingers had turned an icy shade of blue. One of his toes was starting to turn black.

But that wasn't half of it.

He was bleeding everywhere. Three deep lines on his back showed the places where DeathStroke decided to leave his mark. One of his legs had been broken when they first shoved him in the box, and there wasn't enough space to straighten it out so it would heal properly. It had green pus oozing out of the gaping wound on his leg, and the sickening gleam of bone shone through. A thick layer of frozen blood covered the floor. Not all of it his.

He dreamt most of the time, and tried to think of how to escape the rest of the time. His dreaming with Audrey had been fun, but it was only a brief escape from the harsh, cruel environment he was in now.  The only thing that was keeping him alive--the only thing that was giving him hope--was the thought that BlueJay might--MIGHT--rescue him.

He sent out a silent prayer.

Hurry Audrey. I can't last much longer.