I'm toying with a sort of follow up to Prison Sentence. I don't know if I'll do a multichapter fic. I could, which is why I'm leaving it as in-progress/incomplete. It'll see how this does. I'm placing this in Batman (comics) since Deathstroke/Slade Wilson will not be a character. I do recommend reading Prison Sentence, since this does follow it up. It's in Young Justice (cartoon) since Deathstroke was a key character to it (the "main" characters are Tim, Dick, Ra's, and Deathstroke).
Sun reflected off the heated sands of a desert. Tim was alone, searching the landscape for any signs of life. The landscape was familiar, bringing with it terrible memories of imprisonment. Tim hated thinking about that experience, but it was inevitable.
A gust of wind startled Tim, causing him to look behind him. A cloud of sand slowly rolled closer to him. Tim didn't want to stay around to get caught up in it, quickly sprinting ahead. The sandstorm speed up with him, intent on smothering him. Panic surged through Tim, wanting him to escape.
Tim tripped on something, falling to the ground face down. He looked back, wondering what he tripped on. To his horror, two bodies lied on the ground with a hand held onto his ankle. What made it worse was their identities. The bodies of his parents emerged from the sands, lifeless and terrified.
Though petrified, Tim tried to get out of the grip of his mother, frantically wiggling his leg. Her grip stayed strong, not wanting to release him. Tim began to hyperventilate. With the sandstorm getting closer and his mother's strong grip, he started to question if he could get away. That, unfortunately, wasn't the only thing to plague him.
His parents started to t witch, as though awakening from a deep sleep. Tim's panic escalated, frantically trying to get away. His parents rolled over, looking squarely at their son. Their white eyes pierced his soul.
"You failed us." Janet coldly lectured.
"You let us die." Jack accused.
"I didn't mean to." Tim anxiously argued. "I was held captive. I wanted to save you, but I couldn't get out. I'm sorry."
"You could have saved us." His parents eerily moaned.
"I'm sorry." Tim's attention briefly turned to the growing sandstorm. "Please, let me go."
His parents refused to let him go, as though ignoring his pleas. Tim was hysterical, as not only the storm came closer, but his parents began to crumble before him. Skin dried and shriveled as it tightly hugged bones. Even then, Janet's grip firmly held onto Tim's ankle.
The sandstorm engulfed them, disintegrating Tim's parents. With his leg finally released, Tim stood up. He couldn't grieve, the will to escape overtaking him. He ran towards where the Sandstorm took over, hoping to get ahead of it.
The clear sky felt like it was within reach. As Tim reached for it, so too did the sand. It wasn't just interested in that either. Clumps of sand chained themselves around Tim's ankles and wrists, pulling him further into the storm. Tim tried to resist their pull, but their grip was stronger.
The chains pulled Tim further into the storm. He slammed into something. Something that wrapped arms around him.
"I told you, you would not escape me." A gruff voice recalled.
Tim didn't get time to recognize it before he was spun around. Greens and yellows flashed before him and a hand grabbed his face and shoved it upward.
"You're mine." Ra's claimed.
Tim woke up screaming, a cold sweat drenching him. He frantically scanned the room, realizing he was in the manor. Tim's breathing calmed, relieved that he was safe. However, his psyche wanted to slip away.
Tim's door shot open and it didn't take a genius to figure out who burst in. Bruce, who had just gotten into pajamas after a long night of patrol, was anxiously staring at the teen. Bruce immediately approached the bedside, dreading what had occurred.
"Nightmare." Bruce assumed.
Tim slowly nodded. He anxiously bit his lip. This was the third nightmare in a week, and they weren't getting better. Bruce gently swatted away a few bangs.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Bruce asked.
Tim's breathe hitched. He didn't want to talk about it, but he knew he had to.
"I was in the desert." Tim began. "I was alone and wanted to find someone. A sandstorm began to rage and I tried to run from it." Tim's eyes tightly closed recalling the next scene. "I was soon tripped by the corpses of my parents, who came alive to tell me that I failed them. They wouldn't let me go as the sandstorm flew over us. The storm destroyed them. I tried to escape the storm, but it pulled me in further. It pulled me in and thrusted me against Ra's, who told me I was his."
Tim buried his face in his hands. Bruce was mortified by the nightmare. Even with Ra's' absence in the recent days, he was still haunting his child.
"He's not going to take you." Bruce promised. "You don't belong to him."
That was a promise. There was no way Bruce was going to let Ra's claim him. Even with al Ghul etched into his back, Bruce wasn't going to let Tim go. He looked at Tim's deflated demeanor. Bruce didn't want to leave Tim alone.
"Come with me."
Bruce slowly pulled Tim off of the bed, helping him to his feet. He guided Tim down the hallway. They passed Dick's bedroom. Dick had been on a slippery road to recovery himself, but he was more open to talking about it, so he was progressing better than Tim was.
Tim was still living with his turmoil, or to be more precise, he was trying to ignore them. He hated talking about it. Tim would rather bury his woes, in the hopes that they would die off eventually.
Bruce opened the door to his bedroom. Ace was curled up beside the bed, sound asleep. Bruce offered Tim the side closest to the dog, pulling the sheets down. Tim looked at Bruce puzzled.
"You need a good night's sleep." Bruce answered. "I think you'll feel more secure knowing that I'm here for you."
Tim slid onto the bed, making sure to step over Ace. Bruce pulled the covers over Tim before taking the other side of the bed. Tim rolled over, facing Bruce. He was trembling slightly, the nightmare still lingering in his mind.
"It'll be okay." Bruce whispered, running a calloused hand through Tim's shadowy hair.
Tears trickled down Tim's face. He curled up closer to Bruce, wanting to accept his comfort. Tim allowed himself to take Bruce's presence, slowly succumbing to his exhaustion.
Bruce being a worried father with Ace as their four legged defender. And yes, I did have a contrast of how Dick and Tim have been coping. Again, if this does well, and can think of enough of a plot, I may make this into a multichapter fic.