Some wounds don't heal. Memories are supposed to be fondly cherished. He however held only the bad ones, his guilt, his rage, it was all swirling in that mind of his, blending into a devious concoction. He crouched over the gargoyle waiting patiently for his target to pop up. Wounds can heal, but it's a choice whether you want to try and fix them. He however let the pain swallow him whole, and his pain, his bad memories, his hatred, it covered every single part of him… Like it graffiti on a rusted wall. Leaving nothing but a shell of a man, a shell that only craved revenge.

It was night, but the flashing lights from the jumbotrons, and cars lit up the city. The sirens from cop cars or ambulances reaching his ears. Car horns being hit. The wind blowing back and forth. To others these were a familiar, soothing tone, to him these were pesky distractions.

The limousine rounded the corner of the busy street and pulled up to the red carpet. Slade stood, his eye had found it almost immediately. Some say when you feel numb that you don't feel pain… He felt numb, but he felt the pain's presence. He was aware of its hold over him. He could never truly escape it.

He front flipped off the gargoyle and shot his grapple… The ceremony had started quite a while ago, however Bruce Wayne was late…

"Bruce Wayne what can you tell us about your recent failed attempt at trying to fix the rehabilitation system of Gotham's criminally disturbed?" A voice questioned with a camera nearby.

"Wayne what can you tell us about your plans for this year and your company?" Another voice questioned.

"Mr. Wayne! Can you confirm the allegations centering on you having a love interest with the famed reporter/journalist Vicky Vale? How was she able to afford front row seats to this event?" Yet another voice called out. He was only showing up to the event to honor his family's name. Beyond that he had no care for these people and their little games of popularity and rich snobby nonsense.

He entered the building. Taking his seat he was reminded of his family. He remembered what his life used to be like before all this, before, back when revenge wasn't all that mattered to him… It seemed almost strange to think of a time where that was possible. He would never forget, he would never let go. Even if letting go meant he could feel better…

Time passed and the last award was being announced.

"And the award for most innovative influence over Gotham goes to chairman of Wayne Enterprises… Bruce Wayne!" The announcer stated. Vicky Vale smiled, she had always seen Bruce as a mystery, one she hoped she could unravel some day, and perhaps live with. But that would of course never happen. It wouldn't happen for anyone.

Bruce walked up on stage. He grasped the award and looked to the audience. A faint smile slowly crept on his face. People assumed it was because he was an arrogant person who thought awards meant nothing to him, or because he got used to receiving such awards. Slade was watching everything from a spy cam he had planted earlier.

"Thank you all. I work to better Gotham, my family loved this city. And I can say I love it too. I cannot express how grateful I am for this award." Bruce stated. From the glass skylight above a shatter was heard, glass fell and screams filled the room. Landing on the ground in a crouched stance was Deathstroke. Without thought he raised his fist and did a special hand gesture which fired a dart towards Bruce who of course had ducked behind the podium, missing the shot by just an inch.

"Damn…" Deathstroke whispered to himself.

Vicky snapped a photo at Deathstroke with her flash blinding him. When the blinding light ended Bruce was gone and so was she, it must have been a special camera. Slade knew very well Batman wouldn't run from a fight. And that's what Slade wanted. Slade Wilson wanted to takedown the teen titans for getting his son killed by his employers. His right eye was shot when his wife learned of this knowing it was Slade's fault for running around behind her back doing mercenary work which encouraged her sons.

"I don't have all day so come out." Deathstroke taunted after some time. Batman dropped down from the skylight behind Deathstroke. He had managed to slip out the back, the Batwing has been hovering above for much time so it was able to deploy a bat suit for Bruce.

"How'd you find out Slade?" Batman questioned. Deathstroke nonchalantly turned around to speak.

"You run a private tech company within Wayne Enterprises where only a few key individuals run it, on top of that a portion of your funds disappear undocumented, you take a long time to form a smile and it's always a faint one… I can see you're Batman. Batman and Bruce share the same emotionless eyes, void of feeling. It reminds me of myself actually." Deathstroke explained.

"You understand this changes everything right? You've become too much of a threat. You won't be going back to Arkham this time." Batman stated.

"Spare me the boring details. Let's fight…" Deathstroke said with a cold voice. They engaged in combat. Neck and neck. Evenly matched. They fought it out for a good thirty minutes.

"Don't you think it's a little unfair that you know who I am? I could never do the same to you as you have no other life. Dishonorable…" Batman said trying to get under Deathstroke's skin.

"I don't hide behind a mask, I am who I say I am. Deathstroke. You should have known leading two lives was a mistake." Deathstroke said man to man.

They brawled out. Ducking under swings, leaning to the side or leaning back to avoid getting straight punched. One single mistake could cause one of them men to lose. Or it could lead to a more violent fight. This wasn't there first of battles, and it was far from their last. Batman spun in place using his cape to disorient Deathstroke. When he fully turned in place he shot his grappling hook at Deathstroke's chest. Flying towards Batman, Slade raised his arms blocking the oncoming attack. He rolled backwards and prepared to speak.

"It's time we end this – Bruce…" Slade hollered. SWOOSH, his metal staff was drawn. SHING, Batman's two batarangs were drawn. Vicky Vale had been recording from the sidelines hiding under a table. She knew Batman would be at the event if any trouble was brought up. However this was something she didn't foretell, something that could change her career, make her a billionaire if she played her cards right, make her famous for her discovery, and more! 'No… I could never do that to Bruce.' Vicky thought to herself, as much as she hated passing up the idea she had to do it for Bruce.

"I agree it's time we DO end this." Batman said. They engaged in close quarters melee fighting. Sparks erupted off the staff whenever the batarangs parried the attacks. Slade enjoyed the adrenaline of the battle, the rush, the thrill. Not knowing who would win. That's what made all the times he did win all the more pleasurable. It felt earned.

"Catch." Deathstroke said casually throwing his bo staff at Bruce while reaching at his sides to throw two shurikens. Batman ducked below the staff and threw the batarangs he had in his hands, they hit the shurikens and they all fell to the ground. Deathstroke didn't wait at all as soon as he threw the shurikens he readied his sword and came at Batman.

"Try not to die, I'm not satisfied yet." Slade said coming at Batman with everything who was blocking or deflecting the attacks with his gauntlets.

"That's too bad, because you're about to be disappointed." Batman responded as he swung one palm up below the blade and another down on top of the blade. He twisted the blade and before Deathstroke let go he head budded Batman and booted him onto a table, Bruce's body fell on top the table. Picking up a chair, he swung it down but it was futile as Batman rolled off the table. The chair had shattered.

"I was told I would be disappointed, would it be a contradiction to say I'm disappointed that I'm not disappointed?" Deathstroke questioned waiting for Bruce to get up. Deathstroke's attacks were powerful as he was superhuman so he always thought it'd be honorable to allow his worthy enemies a chance to recuperate. Batman got up, as he did he threw a flash bang pellet at Slade.

Batman used this chance to round house kick Slade's helmet off, he then back hand punched Slade brutally on the jaw, Slade fell on a chair to the side. Bruce stomped on Deathstroke's head shattered the chair. Grabbing the collar of his armor Bruce punched him multiple times while picking him up to explosively slam his head onto a table topping it over. Deathstroke could feel it taking ahold over him. A surge of adrenaline pumped into him, his mouth foaming in rage, his eyes blood shot. The effects of the experiment when on the brink of failure. Slade threw his palms behind him into the ground and pushed himself up at Batman kicking straight in the nose.

Deathstroke fell back down to the ground, his palms met the floor, and he pushed himself backwards onto his feet, he had flew over the table behind him in that movement. Bruce regained his composure and came at Deathstroke. Batman threw a punch, but his forearm was grasped and he was viciously pulled down for a knee to the nose. Batman's helmet cracked in the process. The back of his head was exposed for an attack so Deathstroke got him in a guillotine chokehold and used his free arm to slam his elbow down into the back of Batman's head again and again. Deathstroke swung Bruce to the side where he hit another table nearby toppling it over. Deathstroke watched as Batman's motionless body sat still. Slade breathed in, then out, regaining his sanity. He wouldn't be able to go back to that phase, not until hours later, he was aware of this of course, he simply wanted to make things fair.

"Formidable yes, but respectable is something I still ponder…" Slade said in a bored voice. Bruce picked himself off the ground, baring through the pain.

"I can say the same thing about you." Batman said wiping the blood from his nose ready for the fight. They charged at each other and fought for what seemed like years but was really minutes. It was intense. Batman couldn't stand still, and neither could Deathstroke, they weren't given the slightest opportunity to. To stay alive, they had to keep dodging, parrying, and more. Hand-To-Hand combat of this degree was too dangerous to be played out in a ring. They were both skilled, both honorable, the only thing that separated them was their ways of achieving their goals…

Batman managed to uppercut Deathstroke, now he'd be able to land more hits. While Deathroke was stunned he grapple him for a judo throw, and swiftly stomped on his face while having a firm grasp on the arm he had used to flip him with. He twisted in place with a hold on the arm fracturing it. Batman proceeded to wrap his arms around Slade while he was on the ground, lifted him up, and suplexed him. Effectively ending the battle.

"Nice!" Vicky yelled as she ran up to the scene.

"What are you doing here still?" Batman questioned in a serious voice.

"Eh you know, doing my job." Vicky responded as she ended the recording. She spent a short bit cropping out the part where Deathstroke mentioned Batman's name and then put her phone away. Batman noticed this so made it a point not to crumble it in his hands. Taking out a pen and a notepad she opened her mouth.

"So Mr. Wilson. – " She paused trying to wonder what to ask, she was a break through journalist so it didn't take her long to think of something. Noticing his eyepatch she continued.

"What's wrong with your right eye? You've suffered multiple wounds in the past and have been documented to have them all healed when in Arkham, so what's so special about the wound?" Vicky questioned. Slade sat up slowly and clicked his neck without the use of hands. His eye slowly moved over to Vicky's.

"Some wounds don't heal. And some wounds can. And sometimes they can't heal unless you make them heal." Deathstroke confessed dropping his eyesight to the ground.

"What do you mean by that?" Vicky asked not sure. Bruce knew Slade wouldn't go any further so he explained himself seeing that he was a detective who could decipher cryptic confessions like that.

"His eye must have been lost in a traumatic way, he doesn't want to forget so he keeps it like that… When he mentions wounds he's talking about both physical and mental pain. He is the way he is because he's stuck. Stuck as Deathstroke because of something that happened in the past. Like me…" Bruce said realizing exactly how similar he and him were.

"I kept the bullet all these years as a reminder. A reminder of what I lost... As a last parting gift that she had given me before she left me. I have the choice to forget about it, to forget the son I had who died. But I will never do that. I will continue to fight until I avenge him." Slade said going further despite what Bruce figured about him not doing so.

Vicky realized that she could still have a chance to have a top dollar story to publish. But she realized she'd be benefitting off sorrow. She usually exposed criminals and enjoyed it, but Slade was different. He seemed to have a genuine reason for being a criminal. She decided to ask another question but this time a serious one, one that wasn't for the news or media.

"Is it worth it, wasting away at some cause over and over again. Worth fighting for, even when you're unsure if it'll ever end?" Vicky asked in a low tone. Batman knew the answer that Slade was going to give, if someone had asked the same to him he'd of course reply the same.

"It's worth every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, month, year, century... It's worth it. Until I die or win, I won't stop…" Deathstroke answered. The justice league arrived at the scene and promptly escorted Slade not to Arkham but to a cell within the quarters of the watchtower. Which was one of the worlds most secure inmate holding prisoners there was. Slade however would wait, wait for his one chance, an opportunity, and he would break out as soon as that opportunity would show it self.

Batman's secret was safe with him. And Slade's secret was safe with Batman and Vicky Vale. Vicky learned that some wounds don't heal. She wanted to tell Slade that his mental pain would never heal if he pursued revenge because revenge would never bring back his lost family… But she refrained from doing so, because she realized he probably knew this. And she was not a shred of wrong. Slade knew very well that his life would entail pain forever. But he didn't care. Nor did Batman. Some Wounds Don't Heal.