Yeah, I know.. I have two ongoing fics already. But this pairing is actually my favorite. I just wanted to think of how to approach it. It seems to me usually this pairing seems to be out of character to the extreme. And if their in character, the story is usually so angst ridden I want to cry.
Let's see if I can warp this pairing into mah own little crazy brainchild. This fiction is considering a few what ifs. What if Raven had met Slade first? I haven't taken any liberties with their pasts, that I can think of. Have fun. And don't eat the yellow gumdrops.
Deathstroke had completed his objective, the first one he had given himself after the aftermath of Gotham. Which had been very simple, in retrospect. Get the hell out. But the Batman was rather relentless. And now that he had seen Slade's face (if only in military records) it had been time to fade out of the spotlight. Let Jack Napier and the rest of them finish what he had started. The profits would make and keep him a very well off man.
One day he would kill Batman, and that little shit Robin. But until then, he had an empire to establish, and some chaos to spread. Where better then a new city? Jump was prosperous, with several enterprises up and coming. And the best part was there was virtually no opposition to his kind of dealings. They had yet to acquire a set of annoying do-gooder freaks. And when they did.. He would know enough about them from the beginning to ruin them. It would be nice playing games with a new set of toys.
He briefly felt a ache ; a tinge of regret for leaving the city his three children lived in. But none of them spoke with him anymore. They hadn't in years, and unless they initiated it he would leave them be. His own father had held him back. He would not make the same mistake. And as for his former home; it was only a house,. Jump city was his for the taking.
The prospect intrigued Slade Wilson more then anything else.
But what name to use? What could be possibly change his codename into? He had been working on a new uniform, something a bit sleeker, with a few more advantages in safety and style. A name change would do him good. And then he knew what he wanted it to be. What he had always dreamed of, when his ambitions had first developed into a glimmering idea that would not stop nagging.
Slade.
For the first time in years, he would actually be Slade.
On a street-corner, five blocks from the joyous villain that would soon become notorious; a young woman was laying on her side, eyes closed. A thin line of blood dripped from her mouth. Spitting it into the gutter with little ceremony; the oddly clothed thing stood, brushing herself off. The transportation spell had worked. She still felt a bit out of it though, and the instant she was trying to walk she levitated. The gravity here was a bit different then Azarath.
Azarath.
Raven felt her heart flutter with a quickly smothered hope. She would never see it again. Not while she was still a threat. Not until she proved them all wrong. The prophecy was nothing. Words. Raven knew, as she knew herself from the inside out. Yes; she had a demon in her. And she was dangerous. But the end of the world would never be her fault. And she would prove it one day. Show them all the truth.
But for this moment in time; she was standing in the middle of a highway on a late evening in all black. She distantly heard a loud growling before the world became shooting stars and exploding suns of agony. Her eyes wrenched closed and she didn't know how far she rolled after being struck. Fear was first. Had she broken anything? A lighting fixture shattered above her head and Raven flinched, biting her lip.
No emotion.. Something is broken in your leg. Possible fractured wrist. Dislocated shoulder. Broken cheekbone.
She accounted the damage but was still too shocked to stand. Her first night on this strange planet and she had already almost died. Hearing footsteps, she scrambled up, her left leg limply dragging until she braced her back against the wall of the bakery she had flown into on impact.
" Who's there?!"
In all the commotion her hood had fallen down, and Slade Wilson was intrigued. Purple hair? He saw no traces of a dye job. And those eyes. The chakra stone told him all he needed to know. An eccentric hippy with a fetish for medieval clothing; or someone not form here. As in their planet. The black orbs that glowing around her hands seemed to stack his odds in favor of the second. But they dropped after a few moments, the girl clutching her wrist and hissing a bit. He could see the odd jut of the bone form her. A reddish brown scrape was bleeding from her cheekbone.
For the first time in a long while, Deathstroke the Terminator felt.. Like an asshole. He hadn't been obeying the speed limit or watching where he was going. If Slade killed someone the first day in his city, he wanted it to be a purposeful, useful death. Not some little girl with special powers on a highway like a deer in the off season.
" Your not going to die. That will save me on insurance claims at the very least. Get in. I'll take you to the hospital."
She blinked. Then managed a small frown. Her curvaceous body tense as a piano wire. He had just slammed into her with a transport vehicle. What made him think she would go anywhere with him?
But her arm hurt. And he mentioned a hospital. Hopefully the people here knew at least how to set a bone. Obviously driving wasn't their strong point.
" Fine. Try not to slam into any other unsuspecting pedestrians on the way; I wouldn't want to have to share the spotlight or anything."
She climbed into his passenger seat. He seemed too normal for words. If he tried anything; she would throw him out of a glass window. Problem solved. But Slade kept his distance, driving a bit slower and wondering where the chit had come from. She obviously wasn't a hero. Didn't even seem the type, with the wry humor and the way she had reacted with fear instead of anger at his impromptu wreck. He hit the ignition. The hospital wouldn't be far.
The ride was tense and silent, both of the introverts wondering what the other was doing, thinking, their motives, and their reasons for beign in the city. And drawing their own silent conclusions. Slade made sure the volume on the radio was almost high enough to make conversation impossible. Frank Sinatra sang, and Raven listened intently to the way this man had no regrets. The lyrics weren't too horrible. This must not have been the eighties music her mother had mentioned once. Arella didn't speak of Earth very much, but the music had been her favorite thing.
Raven had been raised by monks. By people who had almost mind boggling self control. So when they pulled up in front of a enormous building bearing a red cross and a strange name, she sat there, looking at him. For the first time her eyes processed his face. And he read her own. The look though.. It was the same he was wearing. A poker face. And he wanted to know what she was. Like a match lit in a dark room; Slade Wilson's curiosity was smitten.
" My name is Vincent Wilson. May I ask for yours?"
Sarcasm had been their first words at each other. It seemed fitting that their own icy politeness would follow. Slade's because he was rather uncomfortable with this new young lady. Raven's because she had never been this close to a man who wasn't a monk, or ninety years old. The eye patch was rather intimidating as well.
" Raven Roth. Just in case I do die, I don't want to be anything as boring as Jane Doe."
He nodded, before exiting the car. Walking to the other side, he opened her door.
Only to see she wasn't inside.
The sound of soft; booted feet on the concrete alerted him to his momentary charge. She was walking into the hospital with her back to him, levitating two feet off the ground. Had she phased through the car's steel body? Interesting. He could think of many uses for such a talent, none of them legal.
That could have been the end. But she had piqued his curiosity. And the rules of chivalry (and lawsuits) stated he should go with her.
She almost glared when he sat down in the uncomfortable white plastic chair beside her, watching as she filled out forms. And by fill out be meant the pen was being controlled by a sort of black cloudlike thing, which jotted down the answers to various questions. The left must have been her good wrist then. The name slot said Rachel. Not Raven. But he noticed the middle initial was an r as well. She had taken his own method of false naming and stolen it.
Where his father had come up with Slade Vincent Wilson he would never know. Running a hand through hair so blonde it was almost white, he caught her hands pausing on a question. Her eyes seemed to narrow a bit, and he saw a snow globe on the waiting desk cover in dark energy and shatter. She flinched, and a light bulb broke. Hissing, the girl seemed to be trying to stop it. Was her control on whatever power she had really that slippery?
Raven saw his mind do the math. The rest of the people seemed to look back and forth before dismissing the occurrence. Sweet Azarath, were these people really that stupid? Her wrist throbbed, and she turned to him. Loathe to actually ask for help; she pointed to the question for some clarification.
" Do you have proof you are a valid citizen of the United States? If no, Then please state your country of origin and have identification ready for examination, along with proof of insurance."
He had been right. Big surprise. The hospitals were lax on their identification laws. He took the clipboard from her and ignored her faint protest, jotting down a few lines and returning it to her. He produced a birth certificate from his pocket and attached it with the papers. His daughters' birth certificate from so long ago. Slade considered this his repayment to her for trying to make her the hood ornament for a dual cab of the Dodge variety.
Raven seemed to understand. Touching the certificate, she thanked him in that gravelly monotonous voice, before giving the paperwork to the desk-worker. He admired her control. She showed emotions so subtly he had to watch her face to catch them. And he was a master at reading people. His mind was drawn into his newest idea as the girl was lead into a room. Luckily, there hadn't been a long wait.
Could he find the apprentice here? It had been a long time since that idle fantasy had reared it's ugly head. Lade rolled one blue eyes in audacity. She was foreign, not stupid. Good mannered, quiet, strange. Manipulating her into thinking he would help her settle into the city would be easy. Making her see the benefits of crime would be hard. He had seen her spine stiffen a bit at the lie the birth certificate indicated.
Hopefully they would not study the differing names too closely.
The hospital music was slowly driving Slade insane. It had been three damned hours and the chit was still in the E.R. The Human League was playing, belting out something about stalkers wanting to make someone sorry. He was close to leaving. But every time he stood up and walked to the door the image of someone standing next to him in a matching uniform sprang to mind and he reigned in his impatience.
She had promise. Just form his first meeting with her. She hadn't seemed to mind the injuries she sustained, she had good control.. And she had hesitated getting into the car with him. Good instincts. And the fact that she was female would make her easier to mould into the position he expected of her. With no ties ( and obviously she had none, if she accepted a strangers help to the hospital at two A.M.) and no home; it was only a matter of time and effort.
Slade tried to convince himself he was being reckless and hasty; but the adrenaline for the idea kept pumping. Why not? If she refused he could kill her then. If she accepted, and willingly; it could be the best career choice he had ever made. She would need training of course. A gentle guide in the right direction. And by gentle he meant it wouldn't kill her.. Unless she was careless.
" Wintergreen would like company when I'm away.."
He murmured it under his breath when a delicate clearing of a throat was heard. Drifting out of his semi-malicious thoughts, he noticed her standing there. Her arm was casted from the fist halfway up the wrist. Her leg wasn't, but it was wrapped in a black support brace that forced her foot straight. Her face had been cleaned up and her shoulder fixed. The scrape on her cheek was a clean; angry red swatch across muted gray skin. The nurse was wheeling her in a chair, and the girl didn't seem to like it one bit.
The blonde nurse batted two green eyes at Wilson and giggled.
" Are you her dad? This Grumpy Greta needs someone to sign her release papers before she can go. "
Raven looked ready to murder the woman, who was decked in bright green scrubs decorated with Christmas lights. In July. Slade smiled with false charm.
" I'm her godfather. Here."
After a paperwork fiasco, they were on the way to the car. He gave her the crutches they had issued; letting the woman dispose of them how she saw fit. Raven levitated to the car and phased through the door, sitting comfortably by the time Slade was adjusting his seatbelt. She caught his gaze from the opposite side of the car. Fidgeting, she took the initiative.
" .. Thank you. I'm sorry you had to wait for so long. Half the doctors in that place need a lobotomy to keep their medical licenses. "
He just nodded. And then he started driving.
Five minutes later he started to ask questions, his odd; cadenced voice setting her at ease but almost scaring her with it's tone and ability to make her feel… pliable.
" I'm assuming you just ame into town. I confess I have myself. Do you have a place to stay? "
Her head shook to the negative even as she spoke.
" No. "
" Is there anyone you can go to?"
" No."
" Where will you live? How will you buy food and clothing?"
" I don't know."
He paused. And Raven realized just how foolish she was. For some reason the way his eye said it made her feel even more inadequate. Her irrational anger at that caused a street sign to implode. Slade avoided it easily, his eyes never leaving her face.
" Why would you leave home without a plan?"
Her eyes flashed red before returning to azure. He noted that. Emotion based powers? Easily manipulated, in the correct situation and with a certain amount of trust. Yes. Her monotone was wavering.
" They sent me away. I don't think they cared what I needed as long as they didn't have to provide it, alright?"
Feisty. He made sure to note that. His light antagonism was getting results. Her eyes seemed to watch him with a bit of distaste for seeing through her, for poking holes through her plans.
" So; your homeless, jobless, and you are injured. That settles it then. "
She was still wary.
" Settles what exactly?"
Slade gave her a smile that Raven accepted as humorous even though it was anything but.
" Where you will be staying. I can't in good conscience let a young woman sleep on the streets. I have a spare bedroom, and I promise I wouldn't try to kill you again."
His eyes were sincere in the promise. Not unless she refused him, when he offered her his lucrative position.
Raven knew it was this or a dark alley. Her pride roared at her to decline, her paranoia kept wondering what was in it for this man, this Wilson fellow. But the rest of her knew survival was more important.
" Fine. Only until I'm healed though. I don't want to be a burden. "
He didn't look at her after her acquiescence, focusing on shifting for the moment. His smile was almost dangerous, but Raven was absorbed in the city's skyline.
" Believe me, Dear; you won't be."
