Author's note: Not a very exciting chapter, I'm just revisiting previous events from Slade's POV, but don't worry, I have lots planned, I have the ending figured out, but it's got a long way to go before then.
When Slade found them again, they were living in Rio de Janeiro. It was pure luck, yet again that he should run into these very same youths. He had been hired to take out an American expatriate. He did not probe too far into the intentions of his client's purposes, but it wasn't necessary. This particular expatriate had notoriously been involved, though never indicted, in the disappearance of several young Brazilian women. If one were to listen to the word on the streets, that is.
That the young lady of Tim Drake's acquaintance was their domestic help was both shocking and delightful, icing on the cake. The effort of finding her domicile was simple. She made no effort to cover her tracks. She lived in a single room in a large building of similar tenets. With her long dark hair, she almost fit in with the native population, and if she didn't speak no one would know different. Her broken Portuguese always marked her as American, but her brazen attitude convinced the world that she belonged here. He saw why Tim Drake would follow this girl into the slums of Rio. Her roommate however held the interest for him. Tim Drake, formerly Robin the Boy Wonder, who also apparently lived in the slums of Rio.
He delayed his hit longer then he normally would. He liked watching her. She moved with an oblivious grace through home of her employers, unaware that she acted as though she owned it. Perfectly comfortable at all times as though every room she stepped in or street she walked through was her home.
The boy drove a bicycle taxi through the roughest parts of town. No one threatened him. Slade wasn't sure if the common street violence avoided him because Tim had established a reputation here, of if he simply rode beneath the radar. Personally, Slade suspected the former.
That the kid was top of the line in the bicycle taxi trade was obvious. He moved his clients through town with panache. He certainly was not scared of the motorized traffic or the high crime neighborhoods. He adopted her attitude to a lesser extend. The place he was, was his home. He also had a bad habit of showing up unannounced on previously lonely rooftops.
Slade only had the dimmest sense that he was being watched. He turned to face his suspected apprehender and prepared to fight. When Tim Drake stepped out of the shadows, Slade was relieved and mildly appreciative of the skills Tim had maintained.
"What are you doing here" was all Tim demanded of him.
Slade did not reply. He fired his line, he left. Better to leave him wanting.
His business could no longer be delayed. The husband put up a meager fight, the wife seemed happy that the ordeal was over.
He lingered to watch the girl show up. She assessed the dire situation, and quickly gathered the most portable of her employer's valuables, left quickly leaving no trace of her arrival. Thanks to her intercession, police would assume the murder was a robbery.
He was contemplating what, if any action he should take regarding the youths of his interest, on a rooftop not far from their tenement.
From distant rooftops he watches them talk, and more. He watches another bird he'll never have.
He was surprised and pleased when Tim interrupted his vigil later. "You like watching us fuck?" the first words out of his mouth.
Slade regarded him in the dim light; he could see potential there, wasted potential. His hair was growing in dark again. The light hearted youth was gone, replaced with something diamond hard, with a sharp edge.
"It was certainly titillating, quite a lady you've got" Slade replied, careful nonchalance behind every word.
"She's hardly a lady, why are you watching us?" the kid demands.
"I'm intrigued. Does Batman know you're here?"
"You going to tell father on me?"
"no" Slade looks at him pensively. He remembers trading witty repartee with Dick, but Dick never had the dark fire of rage that he sees smoldering in this boy. Dick had never been broken down to the base layers like Tim had, Slade could see the girl's recklessness in him too, she'd had a big hand in helping him rebuild.
"Tim" Slade starts, and the boy startles, almost violently to the use of his name "I'm leaving Rio tomorrow, you should come with me, you're wasted here"
"It's mine to waste if I want to" Tim's words fall softly.
"I could give you so much"
"I have everything I want right here" and Tim glances towards the building, toward the girl. Slade understands. The girl is the lynchpin. Even if Slade allowed her to tag along, she'd never consent to a kept life while Tim worked. She had some small potential of her own, but she'd never be truly successful in Slade's line of work, of the line of work he hopes to someday train Tim in.
Slade leaves without saying goodbye. He looks back to see the kid slowly climbing his way down the building. Without zip lines he must do such things the slow and laborious way.
The next day he meets the girl for lunch. She's drinking alone in a cantina. She took some effort to go where she would not be recognized; the expression on her face is of anticipation. He wonders who she's waiting for.
As he approaches her expression changes to one of acknowledgment. On some level she expected him or someone like him at least. Maybe she's always waiting for the killers to approach.
"You know who I am, but you're not scared" he remarks as he sits down.
She smirks at him; it's an award winning smirk, self possessed without sacrificing any mirth. "The worst you can do is torture and kill me" Her eyes sparkle with laughter that barely creeps into her voice.
They sit together in silence. She sits as though she were supremely comfortable; she doesn't find the silence awkward in the least. When the waiter returns, he orders a beer for himself, and for her. He sees her reach for her money, but he pays before she can really react.
"Why are you kids in Rio?" He asks her, keeping the tone casual.
"We're just south for the winter. Why'd you kill my boss, that was a sweet gig I had there"
He wonders if she knew she was working for a serial killer. "The gentleman in question had certain hobbies pertaining to girls of your description that I doubt you would approve of"
"I could have taken him" she says with defiance. "But you can't expect me to believe you offed him on my account"
"No" is his only reply.
They sit in silence, drinking their beers, like old acquaintances who'd shared every story and have now run out of conversation.
"Why are you here?" She finally asks him. The defiance is gone, he can detect a hint of vulnerability.
"I want to scare you away from Tim"
"Why"
"I want him"
"You can't scare me away; I'm only scared of him leaving"
"I see that now" and he does. He sees that she will never relinquish her love for Tim. As long as Tim chooses to stay with her, she will keep him there.
When the waiter returns for their empty glasses, he orders another round for each of them.
"Getting me drunk won't help, you know" and she was getting drunk. There was a slight slur to the words. Undetectable to most, but Slade catches it.
"I know" He sips his beer.
When he leaves, he wonders if she'll try to stop him, if she'll make a scene, but she doesn't.
He waits again that night on the rooftop that Tim had confronted him on, in the hopes that the boy would show up despite her. He leaves before dawn; he has a plane to catch.
He makes a point of attempting to track them in the following years. Once found, they were somewhat easier to track. He knows how they operate, how they travel. Light and quick, but they orbit around cities. They duck out of his field occasionally, only to turn up later. The Americans almost fit into the slums they inhabit, but the accent marks them apart, if you know where to look you can find them.
He makes a habit of stopping by to say hi when he's in town. Only to Tim though. He likes proving that even they can not perpetually remain unseen. Tim has kept up with the bicycle taxi it seems. The kid drives each city as though it was his native town. He memorizes the ebb and flow of traffic in a matter of days. It's become Slade's favorite way to travel when he's lucky enough to be in Tim's town.
The first few times he sat in the back of Tim's cab, the kid was rude and scornful, but eventually he abandoned that, and a gradually came to accept Slade's appearances in his life.
Tim was a smart kid; he had to know that at least some of the time, he was escorting Slade to another man's death. That he no longer felt an obligation to stop Slade was definitely a good sign.
The one time Slade tentatively offered yet again to take Tim under his wing he was rebuked; violently. It took all his skill to make dodging Tim's blows look easy.
Slade hadn't given up hope on his apprentice.
When the pair finally made it back to American soil (sneaking across the border like illegal Mexican immigrants to avoid customs) Slade was pleased. He liked the idea of keeping them close at hand. They stayed in Austin for awhile; she got a job in a restaurant, and bought a car. They were becoming quite domestic.
Slade finally began to sense some restlessness from Tim during his increasingly frequent trips by bicycle taxi. The glamour of their foreign adventures didn't linger into the dreary life they were etching out here.
When they moved to Atlanta, they didn't stay long. Some wanderlust seemed to drive one or both of them to keep moving, keep looking. In Miami they rented another apartment, a dingy basement apartment. When Slade settled into the back of Tim's cab here, he sensed a change. He broached the forbidden subject again "Your wings seem clipped" Tim only grunted his reply, but Slade got the sense that he was hitting a nerve.
When Slade exited he left a box in the back seat. A zip line. A reminder.
Slade deliberately waits two weeks before he seeks Tim out again. He gets into the cab. He senses immediately a tension, an irritation within Tim. "Where to?" Tim asks.
"Hong Kong" Slade replies, as though it were a logical request.
"Can't get you there by bike Mister", but there is a hint of light in the boy's voice.
"I know" Slade pauses, dramatically. "Just take me around down town; I want to see the sights"
The kid turns to his task, Slade tries hard to discern his mood, but it remains a mystery to him. He sits in the back of the cab and allows himself to be cycled around downtown Miami.
When they near the financial district Slade asks to be let off. He doesn't wait to see the kid's reaction to the note he slipped in the envelope. Apprehensive doesn't really cover his emotions at the moment, and he has a flight to catch.
When he arrives in Hong Kong he has no choice but to wait. See if the kid took the leap or not. That morning he had felt certain that the time to act was now, currently he thinks that maybe the kid needed more time.
When a dark haired blued eyed bird steps through customs Slade smiles.