Disclaimer: Don't own
Truce
'I don't dislike you as a person, actually I value you as someone who could one day be my equal'
'Someone who could one day be my equal'
These words shouldn't matter to him, Dick thought as he walked through the streets, enjoining the fresh morning air. Their station had three shift system, the morning from 6 am to 2pm, the afternoon from 2pm to 10pm and the night from 10pm to 6am. He preferred the morning shift, patrolling as a officer was a nice relaxation after patrolling the night in costume.
Near the local primary school he slowed down, it was nearly 8 am and the children were in a hurry to get to school. Hurry lead to careless behavior within the adults and children so every school day at least one of them had to stay in sight and indirectly encourage them to use their knowledge how to properly cross a street and parking a car.
An easy but somewhat nerve ruffling job, which allowed one to eat a submarine baguette in peace while watching over the crowed as long as the whistle to get crowds attention wasn't needed.
'One day he could be his equal'
The mere thought seemed absurd. Slade had challenged the entire League of Justice and nearly won and he should be able to do the same? The bell rang for the first time signaling the children should be on their way into the old school building which caused the general hectic of the crowed to increase.
'One day he could be his equal'
While he and his team had managed to deal with Slade before it was only because the man was taking a little time out from his real alter ego Deathstroke the Terminator. As much as it hurt his pride the first time to admit, but the man had been playing with them. Or in a kinder way, he had been lightly training with them.
'One day he could be his equal'
In Buldhaven he had come across Slade in full Deathstroke mood, the encounters had left him unconscious in a safe place with the older man's target dead. Despite himself he was grateful for his consideration. He paused in his thoughts as he a group of people nearly ran to the street next to the school and used the whistle to make a high sharp sound. Startled they stopped just before the street and, once recognized the sound, made a show how they followed the rules while they crossed the street … 'Civilians'
'One day he could be his equal'
He could admit to himself how seductive the promise of so much power sounded.
'One day he could be his equal'
People would stop thinking of him as the first of Batman's sidekicks and really respect him...
'One day he could be his equal'
His old mentor would have to respect him...
'One day he could be his equal'
If he could defeat the League of Justice in their own little game they would have to understand that a badge was needed wouldn't they? That they needed a different mindset to really protect the people, otherwise they wouldn't have lost to him would they?
'One day he could be his equal'
Yes he wanted the power, not just for himself but for them to see the reality...
'One day he could be his equal'
However Slade only wanted to train someone as his heir and he wouldn't become a murderer, even though some of the heroes might argue that he already was one... 'Civilians'
'One day he could be his equal'
Yes he wanted the training, but not at any price. It wasn't as if the man would offer his services as a trainer for free...
Lex Luthor leaned back in his chair, the day promised to be interesting...
Under normal circumstance an appointment with Slade Wilson was a rather simple matter. The man was one of the best in his field, a more than competent employee, one to be hired when needed for a rather delicate situation. He wasn't cheap, but quality came with a price that was not the problem. Yet it wasn't him, Lex Luthor, who wanted the meeting but Deathstroke, which created the question why? Men like Wilson, men like himself, fought their own battles, asking for help was like admitting defeat to them, so a fight should be out of question. As for his technology it was brilliant, yes, but there was little one couldn't buy and he really couldn't image Deathstroke having financial problems. The thought alone seemed absurd. Of course someone wanting him dead and getting Wilson for the job was a possibility, yet he had enough money to make the man reconsider and kill his first employer, it wouldn't be the first time something like this happened with the mercenary involved. A certain royal family was proof for that.
In conclusion he couldn't think of anything Wilson might want of him or his help for a rather disorienting feeling, how some people claimed that ignorance was bliss was beyond him.
"Mr. Wilson has arrived", sounded the voice from his secretary, a sweet looking asian woman who could kill a man within 5 seconds, a man had to keep standards hadn't he? He dismissed the idea of letting Wilson wait, until he had reason to act otherwise it was the best to keep the man in his good graces. Straightening his spin he sat with a perfect posture in his chair, that he didn't believe the man was about to become an enemy didn't mean he could show weakness either.
Slade entered, dressed in an expensive suit and a fake matching gray eye where normally sat the black eye patch. He could have easily slipped in a crowed of businessman and wouldn't leave a lasting impression, it also told Luthor that whatever was to be discussed valued secrecy while making the possibility of an assassination attempt less likely. Deathstroke had a certain honour, attacking without giving his prey a chance just wasn't his style.
They nodded in greeting and Slade sat down, "if you don't mind my schedule his rather full these days, so lets skip the pleasantries," started the mercenary smoothly. Lex's mind was racing what event could value so much of the mercenary's time? The lack of answers was infuriating, so he forced a polite smile and nodded.
"Inofficial official the city Buldhaven is my territory," stated the man, explaining nothing to Luthor. It wasn't like he would challenge his claim, the city was hatchery for criminals nothing more. And even this aspect was weakening, the former partner of Batman was making the place less welcoming and even motivated a few of the cops to become honest, leading to an interesting question.
"I do believe the oldest son of the Bat has already staked a claim," he replied, Deathstroke wasn't about to kill Nightwing was he? It would be a declaration of war to the older heroes, no matter what childish little dispute they had currently about which methods were okay to safe the world. How anyone could admire people who fought about such a thing, mindless sheep. Yet if he was, he would become the enemy number one, giving people like him a golden opportunity to plot, maybe even to destroy the heroes completely...
"My claim includes the live and well-being of Nightwing, his actions have shown an intelligence and willingness to fight superior to the other heroes. The young man has potential I believe to be wasted in his current social circle," Slade's voice was didn't leave room to question the claim. Yet Luthor wasn't convinced. Sacrificing a few pawns to win a game was hardly a sign for intelligence in his eyes. Wars had been fought like this for centuries, it had been slightly surprising that a hero would do such a thing, yet the smartest child in class for children with special needs was still no future Noble laureate. Furthermore as much information as the young hero had, he really couldn't see him betraying his family and friends.
"You want to turn him into a mercenary?", he asked to clarify, saying it out loud made it sound more like something the Joker would do, was Deathstroke loosing his edge? Or worse, was the high function sociopath becoming a simple psychopath? Who could he hire to terminate the Terminator?
"I'm taking an interest in his skills, he already to agreed to train with me", was the smug reply. His careful posture of polite interest was lost for a moment, this couldn't be true could it? Yet why would Wilson lie about such a thing?
A smirk hushed over Slade's lips, causing him to reach instinctively for the emergency alarm. "The necessary sacrifice he made isn't something the heroes seem to understand, making him question the adults he had come to worship since a very early age. No matter which decisions he is going to make, the path is more than interesting to me, honestly he reminds me a little of myself." No there was nothing insane in Slade's words or actions as far as he could discern. Had the young hero really so much potential? Could the young male become more than a multicoloured copy of the Bat with bad jokes?
"What exactly is my place in your plans?", he asked instead, his mind starting to reëxamine every fact he had about Nightwing.
"I would appreciate if the word spread that any villain of a certain caliber deciding to visit Buldhaven will die a very painful death. Nightwing has still strong bonds to the other heroes and it wouldn't do for them to reconnect during a battle." This sounded like a careful thought of plan, no delusions just plain facts, lord if Deathstroke really could get Nightwing to betray his friends and family? Was there any hero the golden child didn't have a connection and knowledge of? Image Superman being sold out by his beloved nephew...
"I assure you will get time for your experiment", he said in his best charming politician voice. It seemed as if he just gained a new source of entertainment, either watching a hero fall from grace or seeing the almighty Deathstroke fail...
The young man paused as the smell of cooking food greeted him in the hallway. His shift had just finished and he hadn't been sure whenever to make a light snack or go directly to bed, these 16hour or more days filled with patrolling in and out the uniform left him famished and tired, usually the tiredness won.
It was a nice, yet unsettling surprise, someone had broken into his home and was preparing food.
Carefully moving, not to make a sound, he entered his kitchen and dining room in one.
Before the stove with his back turned to the entrance stood Slade with a frying pan and two fish in it. The rice cooker was also turned on and on the dining table were two plates with each having a slice of lemon on it. A knife and fork were next to each plate as well as a filled glass with water.
'You are in my kitchen, uninvited, and preparing lunch', Dick said slowly as if the speaking the words out loud would help him to grasp the situation better.
The older man turned around, revealing again a civilian attire, and gave a sharp smile.
"I figured it was my turn to cook', he answered playfully and placed the fish on the plates, "the rice should be ready once you finished your shower around 3.10 pm"
"You know when I sleep", said the hero in the same tone as before and than simply sighed as his stomach growled.
He was too tired and and hungry right now to deal with implications of theses words, so he left for the bathroom.
The young man stripped down and threw his uniform in the laundry basket. Entering the cabin his thoughts became clearer, if Slade had really wanted to harm him than he had already had two chances to do so, he wouldn't be ambushed while he was defenseless under the hot water, would he? Trusting his instincts he closed his eyes.
What was this about? Pay back for the dinner, or in his case thick breakfast, the day before?
Maybe, he poured the soup on his head and carefully massaged it in as if to unknot his thoughts, but there had to be more to it hadn't it?
A yawn escaped his lips as washed the soup out of his hair, he was neither physical nor mentally ready for another round and just wanted to sleep, the food be damned.
Yet, once he finished the shower, he dressed in the blue trousers, white t-shirt, and black boxers, which had been prepared for him and went to the dining room.
Slade already sat down, on each plate was fresh rice and looked as if he was perfectly at home, Dick had no idea how he should feel about this.
Without a word the younger man sat down, too, and took the first bite. He really didn't want to think of the implications of trust or respect his action had, so he took the safe route and told himself that Slade always displayed a certain degree of manners and was simply being a good host.
"I didn't know you could cook", the younger man started lightly and got an amused chuckle in return.
"A single man learns how to cook sooner or later", was the equally light response as Slade also started to eat.
While they ate in comfortable silence a dark restless part of the heroes mind whispered how he grew accustomed to Slade, the only one who really knew him and showed him any kindness. The other officers didn't count, considering they didn't knew about his second job.
Tired he shoved the words away, he was still human and needed human comforts.
At least this was a point were it didn't matter if one wore a badge or was a civilian, voiced another softer part of his mind.
Something he could connect with the other heroes, it continued, bridge the gap between them.
No matter how childish they were, he still missed them, he missed the light and serious conversations with Wally, his best friend.
"Such simple dishes are one of the first thing you learn", said Slade seemingly out of nowhere and Dick focused again on the man before him.
For a moment something harsh and unforgiving flashed in the single gray and eye while his body and facial features seemed as relaxed as always.
The hero had stopped looking anywhere else for signals about Slade's mood, simply because it was nearly impossible to do so, yet his eye usually gave him away. His own sapphire blue eyes stayed locked with the gray one, unhindered by his long black hair, and saw another flash, this time pleasure. A primal part of Dick always grew nervous whenever the gray of a common metal flashed up, like a sword catching the light of the sun, and prepared himself for the intending strike.
"You appeared to be lost in thoughts and I wouldn't want you to fall asleep", was added in a lighter tone, yet there still was an edge to it. The man couldn't have been angry because he didn't pay attention to him for a few minutes, could he?
"You make dinner but you wouldn't want to carry me to bed?", Dick asked lightly to further diffuse the tension and saw how slight lines of unvoiced laughter grew around the older man's lips.
"I'm afraid I would be far to tempted to resist", played Slade along and they sat again in a comfortable silence, focused on each others company.
Once they finished their meal Dick cleaned the dishes while Slade still sat down.
"Aren't you going to leave?", asked the hero honestly confused. The warm shower and good food left him very tired and he really wanted to go to bed.
"I wanted to make you an offer" said the other in a serious tone, "I enjoy your company and I dare say you enjoy mine."
He paused, but Dick didn't comment, so he continued.
"I would like to propose a truce between us, I won't take any jobs in Buldhaven and you will ignore my activities outside your city."
The younger man frowned unconvinced, turning Buldhaven into a safe area from Deathstroke had very little appeal especially with the cost of being forbidden from at least trying to stop him outside the city.
"Why?", he inquired instead, play nice so that he won't leave aren't you alone, sneered the dark voice inside his mind at his question behavior.
"So that we could enjoy the shared meals on a much more regular schedule and I already bought a house here, so we could even train together", finished Slade his proposal and waited for the answer, his posture grew still, like a predator lurking for it's prey to make the next move.
'One day he could be his equal'
"If someone flees from or through Buldhaven I will have the right to protect him or her", left Dick's lips before he could think about it.
The price wasn't that high compared to the new skills he could gain to stop others, the softer voice in his mind added soothingly.
Your scared he will leave you alone, pointed the dark voice out again, it was cold and and calculating almost like Bruce in his teacher mode. He is offering you food and a warm place to stay, as if you were a stray dog he wants to tame, it continued, but Dick ignored it. He stayed inside Buldhaven anyways didn't he?
The renegade hero wouldn't be unless something or someone threaded the whole League of Justice, what harm could there be...
"You drive a hard bargain, don't you", replied Slade lightly, "I agree to your terms of our truce".
To seal their deal the older man stood up and offered his hand. Dick took the old callused hand with his own softer one and sealed their truce.