For three weeks, there had been nothing.

No attacks.

No traps.

No cryptic messages left behind like some dramatic supervillain calling card.

Just—

Silence.

The Teen Titans hated silence.

Because silence from Deathstroke—or Slade, as they knew him—usually meant he was planning something.

Something complicated.

Something annoying.

Something that would absolutely become their problem.

So when they finally tracked him down to a house well outside the city limits?

Everyone expected a secret base.

Weapons.

Intel.

A new operation.

Instead—

They found Slade carrying grocery bags.

The front porch was decorated.

There were flowers.

Actual flowers.

Nobody spoke.

Not even Robin.

The door opened.

Slade stepped inside without noticing them immediately, setting the bags down with the kind of careful precision usually reserved for explosives.

Only this time it was fruit.

And vitamins.

And what looked suspiciously like baby supplies.

Silence stretched.

Then he turned.

Stopped.

Looked directly at the Teen Titans standing frozen in his yard.

Nobody moved.

Finally—

“…You have thirty seconds to explain why you’re outside my house.”

The sentence should have been the shocking part.

It wasn’t.

Because behind him—

Someone moved.

A woman.

Pregnant.

Very pregnant.

The entire team stopped functioning.

Beast Boy physically looked like his soul had left his body.

Cyborg blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“Slade has a wife?!”

Slade closed his eye briefly like he suddenly regretted every decision that led to this moment.

“…Unfortunately,” he said flatly, “you now know too much.”