AN: thanks for the reviews! They are much appreciated!

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"Slade!" yelled Wintergreen, grabbing the man's arm. "Stop it, now. I just got all the blood off the basement walls and now you mess up your training room? Honestly."

Dick lay face down on the floor, blood spattering the ground around him. He was wearing gray clothes and the blood showed easily on the material as his torso rose and fell with labored breaths.

Slade growled and yanked away from Wintergreen. He spun around and stalked off, leaving his friend alone with the boy. Wintergreen knelt down and rolled Dick onto his back. The boy was conscious, but just barely. Blood trickled from his mouth and Wintergreen could tell his lip was bleeding, but a lot of it was blood Dick had coughed up. The cut above his eye had reopened and Wintergreen could tell from pressing on his chest he was badly bruised.

"Come on, Dick," he said, picking the boy up. "Let's get you cleaned up, eh?"

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Dick slowly opened his eyes, looking around him. He was lying on the big bed but when he tried to move, found he couldn't. He vaguely remembered being carried in by Wintergreen, the man he'd met at breakfast, but his memory failed him after that. Dick winced as he lifted his hand and touched the bandage above his eye. His lip stung and he found a cut when he ran his tongue over it. His torso felt horrendous. He figured after the beating Slade had given him he was bruised everywhere there was skin from the waist up.

The boy moaned and turned his head. He saw Wintergreen across the room, just coming out of the bathroom with a wet cloth. He smiled at the boy and hurried over, lying the cloth on Dick's forehead.

"How are you doing, son?" he asked. "You have a slight fever, but nothing serious."

"Sore," mumbled Dick.

"I wouldn't wonder," chuckled Wintergreen. "Nothing broken, though. Just bruises, bruises, and more bruises. You'll be okay after a couple of days. You still have some of the effects of the serum in you and it won't take as long as usual for you to heal up."

"I didn't even do anything wrong," mumbled Dick. "I just couldn't figure out how to block his attacks, and he got mad and started beating me."

"That would be Slade," nodded Wintergreen. "Doesn't care that I hate cleaning blood up. Honest, kid, I've tried reasoning with him. He won't listen to anybody, though. Here, let me check your chest again." He lifted the boy's shirt up and examined a particularly large bruise above the left rib cage and shrugged. "Looking better, actually," he said. "You'll be okay, kid. I'll be back later to check on you. Get some rest."

Dick was welcome to that idea and was sleeping by the time Wintergreen reached the door.

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"That child can barely move," growled Wintergreen. "What is wrong with you? You want an assistant that has to use crutches?"

"He's fine," said Slade, barely looking up from the keyboard he was hunched over at his computer.

"He is out cold in his bedroom," said Wintergreen, "bruised everywhere there is skin! Why are you beating him like that?"

"The boy disobeys me and he must learn I will not tolerate that," replied Slade.

"Richard Grayson is thirteen," said Wintergreen, putting his hand on Slade's shoulder. "There are other ways. Better ways. Smarter ways."

Slade stopped typing and looked up at his friend, "Such as?"

Wintergreen shrugged, "Ever hear of spanking?"

Slade rolled his eyes and stood up. "I'm not spanking the kid," he said. "That won't prove a thing. He won't respect me anymore then he does now."

"That's not true," said Wintergreen, sitting on the desk behind him. "Experience proves."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Slade, running a hand through his white hair.

"Doesn't Wayne spank him?" asked the older man.

Slade scoffed, "Sure, but did that ever stop Mr. Grayson from running away?"

"No," said Wintergreen, "but you'll also agree that after Wayne would spank him Dick would do what the man said for awhile." Slade glanced at the computer, remembering the surveillance videos they had taken with droid cameras inside the Wayne home. Wintergreen had a point.

"Yes," said Slade, "but that is ridiculous. Can you imagine the military disciplining their soldiers by spanking them instead of court marshal or KP or whatever they do? This boy will learn to fear and respect me. Not cry when I treat him like a baby."

Wintergreen raised an eyebrow, "I'm telling you Slade, it'll work. Here's what I suggest. Go to the boy's room when he wakes up, apologize for beating him, promise him you never will again, and then tell him in detail what will happen if he disobeys."

"Well, isn't that a kind, sweet idea," smiled Slade. "I'll remember that next time I kidnap a three-year-old. It isn't happening."

"Okay," shrugged Wintergreen. "But you have to admit it works for Wayne." He began walking away, but when he reached the door Slade's voice stopped him.

"What would I do if I got angry with him?"

"Count to ten and calm down," replied Wintergreen, not even turning around. "If you promise not to beat him it is absolutely crucial that you keep that promise, or he will never trust you. And trust is a big deal if you are training him to be your assistant. The same goes for spanking him, though. If you tell him that when he disobeys you'll spank him, you have to follow through."

"How would I spank him?" asked Slade.

"For little things like a dirty look or not coming immediately when called, just give him two or three hard swats," said Wintergreen, folding his arms and leaning back against the door. "For bigger things, the full deal. Over your lap, hard spanking."

"With my hand?" asked Slade.

Wintergreen nodded, "Yes. And if you feel it is necessary use something else like a wooden spoon or brush. Only use your belt if he continues to defy you after the spanking."

"How do I...well, I don't know," shrugged Slade.

Wintergreen nodded, "Details, details. To start with, tell him he's going to get a spanking and send him to his room. Give him a few minutes to worry about it and you a few minutes to calm down. Then, go in, sit down, tell him to come over and calmly explain why he's getting spanked. Make him talk while you spank you. Ask him why its happening and what he'll do to change."

"How do I know I've done enough?" asked Slade, starting to think this may be an option.

"If he's a fighter, you'll know its good when he stops kicking and thrashing around and just lies there crying," said Wintergreen. "If he's not like that then...well, I suggest doing it pants down. When he's good and red you'll know its enough."

Slade sighed and folded his arms, pacing back and forth. He looked up at Wintergreen and shook his head, "I'm not a father. I don't want to treat the kid like my son. He is my prisoner and trainee. He should be doing as I say without me having to force him. This is crazy." They were both silent for a minute, but Wintergreen smiled as he watched the obvious signs of gears spinning in Slade's head. Then a sigh from the latter and a shrug, "Alright, alright, wouldn't hurt to try."

Wintergreen grinned, "Fine. When he wakes up go and tell him exactly what you plan on doing. Don't back down. Children need consistency. That's why Dick is so close to Wayne. When the boy was disobedient, Wayne would spank him. The guidance made Sam feel secure, and he loves Wayne deeply."

Slade rolled his eyes, "Yes, exactly what I want. A thirteen-year-old boy loving me like a son loves his father. This is ridiculous but from lack of Dick's obedience through beatings I guess I'll try it."

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A quick AN: I am terrible at using 'then' and 'than' correctly so I'm sorry if that is driving anyone crazy! Thanks for reading! Bruce will make an appearance soon, I promise