Disclaimer: Dudes and dudettes, if I owned TT this would already be an animated movie. But, alas, I don't work for DC or own any rights to these wonderful characters.
A/N:
Best responses yet for a chapter. 23 comments within a twenty-four hour period…wow….that was the largest response I've ever had for a chapter yet. Thanks.
Also, we have now passed the word count for "Dust." This is now officially my longest-running story on FF.
Cool.
Also, Mellowtopian drew a doodle for the last chapter's cliffhanger. Link on my profile.
On a last minute note: I have an important anouncement on my profile page for those who have asked me to critique/beta read stories in their reviews. This is also for people who are interested sending me a beta request. Don't worry, I'm not asking you to go away or something mean like that. Just please take the time to read the announcement.
Chapter 26: Promises
-DG-
Woods
Wyoming Rockies
Dick had never felt so alone.
Pure adrenaline pumped through his system as he high-tailed his butt out of there and to the woods. He clutched the controller in his right hand, tensing as he listened for approaching footsteps. Even though Slade had taught him a few tricks about hunting big game he knew that he had become the hunted now.
But he couldn't stop now.
Try as he might to make less noise Dick knew that he was making a racket. All he had to do was get the controller somewhere safe, somewhere where Slade wouldn't be able to find it. Or destroy it. Dick planned to run as fast as he could to the small city, where he planned to raise the alarm. He had already contacted the JLA Watch Tower through the amateur radio station. It was now or never.
He hid behind a tree and tried to control his breathing. He couldn't allow himself to be heard. He forced himself to control his breathing. Dick threw the first punch. Right now, he was in control of the situation because Slade had been thrown off guard.
I still can't believe I caught him off guard like that, Dick thought. I still can't believe that I knocked him down.
As he leaned against the tree he became aware of just how stupid the decision to attack Slade was. Here he was, out in the woods during October, without a jacket and lost in the woods that Slade knew better than he did. Goosebumps rose on his exposed skin as he began to shiver.
Hide and seek…Dick thought, cops and robbers. Let's see if I can play this game now.
The odds weren't in his favor, but he needed to try. Dick moved quietly through the woods, using every ounce of cunning and stealth he had in his arsenal. Although he didn't want to think about the fact that Slade taught him all of these tricks he knew that he had to use them. It was the only way he could possibly outsmart Slade.
He began to run again.
The hair rose on the back of his neck as he listened for footsteps. The hand clutching the trigger began to slick with sweat. Dick skidded to a halt and looked down at the controller in his head. This was the source of all of his troubles. This thing was the only reason why he agreed to work for Slade in the first place. He needed to destroy it. But how?
What if destroying the trigger set the probes off? He hadn't thought of that. Fear crawled into him at the thought of inadvertently causing the Titans' deaths. He wanted to destroy this thing but he didn't know what would happen. He just couldn't be sure. Again, he chided himself for acting so soon. Should he hide it? If so, hide it where?
"I must admit, you have gotten better."
Dick snapped his head around, trying to find the source of Slade's voice. He started as Slade loomed from the darkness, backing away defensively. How long had he been standing there? Why didn't Dick see him before?
"Your situational awareness skills still need a bit of refining," Slade said, his voice coldly nonchalant. "Perhaps you should have waited until then. Or maybe until we went back to Jump City."
Instead of replying Dick put the trigger in his pocket and held up his fists defensively. He was aware of the weight of the controller in his pants pocket and how vulnerable he felt. But he didn't care. For once he was in control, if only for the briefest moment. He managed to catch Slade off guard, and at least that was something. He couldn't stop now.
"If you hadn't taken the controller and run away I might have forgiven your insubordination," Slade said, "but now I don't think that'll be the case."
"How can I trust you?" Dick asked, backing away. "When you lie to me, keep information from me…beat me?"
"You know, I thought that we got past this stage," Slade said, "your defiance is now irritating."
"Screw you, Slade."
He said this with as much animosity as he could. Almost in tandem, the two of them lunged towards each other in a flurry of fists. It was hard to see in the dark. So much adrenaline pumped through his systems that his moves became nearly flawless, just as Slade trained him to be. Each dodged the other's fist and each moved in swiftly, both intending to harm.
Was he scared? Yes, he was. But if he managed to at least destroy or hidethe controller then he wouldn't have to worry about the Titans anymore. Whatever hell Slade would throw at him then…it wouldn't matter, just as long as they were safe.
They continued to fight in the dark. Neither of them spoke. It seemed as though both were so furious with the other that no words were needed. Dick fought as hard as he could, trying to put everything Slade had ever taught him into effect.
As though sensing that Dick was really trying to beat him, Slade upped the intensity. The blows he had been holding back before now came flying with deadly force towards his face. Dick was forcibly reminded of the time he fought the Slade replica—just after his undercover mission with Red X failed. This time, though, Dick wasn't trying to stop Slade from destroying Jump City. These past nine months made everything much more personal than it had been before.
Slade grabbed his head and slammed him against a pine tree. Blood began to roll down the side of his face as the rough bark abraded his skin. Holding him against the tree, Slade brought back his fist and rammed it into Dick's stomach.
As Dick struggled to clear his head Slade bent down and took the controller back. Slade held the controller out of Dick's reach, his thumb over the button. Dick froze, his eyes fixed on the trigger. They stared at each other for a few seconds, as though daring each other to act first. Dick raised a hand.
"Don't…" Dick said. "Don't….please don't…"
"Shut up."
He didn't move as Slade came forward. Slade gripped his upper arm tightly and began to drag him back to the cabin. Slade almost broke into a run. Dick continued to trip as he struggled to keep up with Slade, fear consuming him like a monster devouring its prey. Neither of them spoke.
As they came through the front door Wintergreen's eyes widened as he watched them walk past.
"Slade, what's go—"
"Not a word, Will," Slade hissed.
A burst of warm air greeted him as Dick was dragged into the room, but he had little time to enjoy that as the mercenary threw him roughly to the floor. Dick tried to scuttle away, but Slade stepped on his chest and pressed down, pinning Dick to the floor. Panicking, Dick tried to roll out from underneath him, but the more he moved the harder Slade pressed down on him. He struggled to breathe, the sudden restriction of air made him feel claustrophobic.
"Slade, stop," Wintergreen snapped, stepping forward. "If you hurt him anymore—"
"I don't want to hear it," Slade replied. "If the kid wants to play rough, then we'll play rough."
"Stop this, both of you!" Wintergreen exclaimed, his voice rising. "Violence is not necessary."
What?
Did Wintergreen really just say that? Surprised, Slade lessened the pressure on Dick's chest, allowing Dick to roll out from underneath Slade's boot. Even though he knew that Wintergreen was trying hard not to make this situation any worse, Dick wanted to fight. But he stood still, wondering what Slade was going to say.
"Unfortunately, it is." Slade cracked his knuckles. "You are not needed at the moment, Will."
For some reason, Dick felt as though he was privy to some tension between Wintergreen and Slade. All this time…had Wintergreen been lobbying for his wellbeing? The butler looked back-and-forth between them, as though trying to decide what to do. Dick shut his eyes for a brief moment, hoping that Wintergreen would choose the right thing to do. However, in his heart he knew what Wintergreen would ultimately choose. Hardly a flicker of emotion passed Wintergreen's face as he made a decision.
"I'll have the ice packs and gauzes ready," Wintergreen said, his voice full of disappointment, "Don't be too hard on him."
I can't...trust...anyone.
And with that Wintergreen turned and left the room. Dick hung his head. Did he feel disappointed that Wintergreen relented? A little, but he understood that Wintergreen would always stay by Slade's side. Did Wintergreen also understand that he wouldn't be able to stop Slade even if he tried or wanted to? Maybe. With Wintergreen out of the room Slade turned his attention back to Dick.
"So this is how you treat your friends, Dick?" Slade asked. "You backstab them?"
Dick found himself shaking his head. Does Slade consider me a friend? Dick thought. No, he's just lying again. He never means what he says when he wants me to act a certain way, so how can he accuse me of betraying his trust when he won't give it back to me?
"You're going to kill Bruce…" Dick whispered, and then he grew more confident. "You're going to kill Bruce!"
Silence filled the air after Dick yelled this. Dick wanted to believe that it wasn't true. In a sense he felt as though he was the one betrayed. After all, Slade put so much effort into trying to make Dick believe that he honestly cared about his well-being. Now Dick knew that it would never be possible. Not with Slade.
Slade towered over him, but he didn't deny this claim. Undeniable hatred filled Dick as a thousand insults crossed his mind. Slade was planning to kill the one person in the world who took him in when no one else would, the man who trained him to protect himself and others. The man who he thought of as a father, even though Bruce never made Dick call him that. Even if Dick couldn't manage to protect himself he could manage to protect others.
He just couldn't allow Slade to hurt Bruce.
"How did you find out?"
Dick didn't even bother answering that question. He was so full of rage that he couldn't even answer the question. To an extent he felt betrayed. How could he ever think that he could trust Slade? Of course he couldn't trust Slade. I hate him, Dick thought, I hate him for doing this to me.
"Bruce wasn't part of the bargain," Dick snarled, "leave him out of this."
"You knew that he would eventually get involved," Slade replied. "Drop it, Dick. You're in enough trouble as it is."
"NO!"
Stupid, stupid. Dick continued to back away even though he knew that it was useless to run. But he was tired of running. Tired of pretending to be someone he wasn't. Tired of being manipulated. He wanted a final confrontation. He knew it wasn't going to be tonight, but he could try.
"I agreed to be your apprentice because you threatened to kill the Titans," Dick said, "leave Bruce alone. Leave the Justice League alone. Leave other people alone. They're not part of the bargain."
Slade was going to kill Bruce…no, Dick wouldn't let him kill Bruce. He knew that Bruce would tell him not to worry, but Dick couldn't help it. The Titans were being used as leverage against him, not Batman. Slade could easily threaten to kill the Titans to make Dick stop, but he didn't. What was Slade waiting for? One last excuse to actually push the button?
"How did you find out?" Slade repeated, much more firmly this time.
"Call off the plan to kill him and I'll tell you."
"You," Slade replied, stepping closer, "are not in a position to negotiate."
Slade really didn't plan on him finding out, did he? But Dick couldn't leave this alone. He needed to help Bruce. The reason why he was here stuck in this godawful apprenticeship in the first place was because he was trying to save the people he loved. He was mad that Slade decided to add Bruce to the list. Dick's lips pulled back into a smirk.
"Try me."
Almost immediately Dick wished that he hadn't said that. Slade rammed a fist into his stomach, causing Dick to double over in pain. Before Dick could recover Slade grabbed his shoulders and kneed him in the chest, knocking all the air out of him.
"I'll take that as a challenge."
Once Dick hit the floor he rolled over and bounced to his feet. He could already feel the bruises begin to form all over his body. Sweat made his shirt cling uncomfortably to his back and stung his eyes, but Dick didn't care. He raised his fists defensively, mentally and physically preparing himself for whatever Slade was going to do to him. His eyes widened as Slade took out his bo-staff. He was completely defenseless; Slade wasn't even going to allow him to defend himself. He looked around briefly for anything that could be used as a weapon, anything at all. Slade rushed towards him.
With the skills of an acrobat raised from birth, Dick flipped over the couch as Slade swung the bo-staff at him. He needed something to fight with…this wasn't fair…not at all. Dick backed away, keeping Slade in constant vision.
"What the hell were you thinking, Dick? Defying me like that?"
Dick avoided another swing of the bo-staff, his heart pumping madly as he felt the air woosh in front of his face.
"I know you're smarter than this…so why did you run knowing you have nowhere to go?"
His next move wasn't so graceful. A cry of pain filled the room as Slade finally managed to hit him in the small of the back. Dick crumpled to his knees, gasping as he struggled not to collapse and fall unconscious to the floor. The cold, metal tip of the bo-staff tipped his chin up so that he looked up at Slade. Without the mask, Slade looked absolutely livid.
It wasn't the rage of Bane or the crazy smile of the Joker. In a way, Dick wished that Slade expressed more emotion. The expression on his face was that of pure, cold fury.
Dick was reminded of how he used to be afraid of Batman, but this…this was so different. He would never be afraid of Bruce the way he was afraid of Slade. When he lived with Bruce he was always afraid that he would fail, never live up to the expectations of Gotham's Dark Knight…never live up to the expectations he created for himself. With Slade he sometimes felt that he would fail…to survive.
"Anywhere is better than being with you."
He knew it was a stupid thing to stay. At first he thought that Slade would jam the bo-staff into his throat, but the mercenary didn't. Grimacing from the pain, Dick ignored the bo-staff resting against his neck and tried to stand up. Immediately Slade hit him in the side, forcing him back down to his knees.
"Don't get up. We're not done yet. "
Gritting his teeth, Dick forced himself not to spit an insult. He hated being on his knees…and even more so when Slade decided to lecture him. Slade began to circle him, keeping the tip of the bo-staff against Dick's neck.
"I have a lot of questions for you, Dick, and I want you to answer them truthfully. Lie to me and you'll come to regret it."
Instead of listening to Slade Dick grabbed the bo-staff and tried to wrench it out of Slade's hands. Stars popped in front of his eyes as Slade slammed it across the face. The hot metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as the inside of his cheek began to bleed. Dick cried out before he could stop himself. When Slade spoke, his tone was laced with bitter disappointment.
"You know, I really thought you changed. But in reality, you're more messed up than I thought. You couldn't trust Wayne…you couldn't trust the Titans…and you can't trust me."
"No," Dick replied, "you're the one who's messed up. It wasn't enough just to keep me prisoner, was it? You had to mess with my head as well!"
Dick scooted forward and lashed his legs out, attempting to bring Slade to the floor. The older man caught hold of his leg and swung him against the wooden table. This time Dick couldn't get to his feet on time. As he tried to stand sharp shards of pain stabbed his back. He felt Slade grab a fistful of his hair, forcing his head to jerk upward.
"Why do you have to make things so hard for yourself?" Slade shook his head. "Now, back to business: how did you know about Luthor?"
Dick said nothing. How long could he keep silent before Slade threatened to push the trigger? Every second, every minute, every hour counted. He yelped as Slade hit him in the face again, the hit so painful that his eyes began to water. He gulped for air and struggled to breathe. Slade grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to his feet.
"I want you to tell me exactly what you were trying to do," Slade whispered. "Tell me your plan of betrayal and destruction. I'd love to hear it."
"No."
Why had he even tried to do this in the first place? This was dumb. He should have waited until they went back to Jump City. Dick wondered why Slade was bothering to beat him at all. Why didn't he just kill the Titans?
I am really that selfish?
As Slade kicked him again Dick realized what the criminal mastermind was trying to do: establish control. This time Slade wasn't going to hold back. This time Slade was going to beat him until he squealed. He wanted to show Dick that even without the lives of the Titans at stake he could still keep control.
But Dick couldn't just give in…not now that whoever was in the JLA Watch Tower was informed of his whereabouts. He had to keep strong, he had to keep this up until—
"I said: what were you trying to do?"
The younger man bit his tongue to stop himself. Although he shuddered with pain he made every effort not to whimper. His arms shook as he tried to push himself to his knees, but what was the point? There was nowhere for him to run.
Slade looked up as soon as Wintergreen entered the room again. Wordlessly, the butler placed the makeshift radio on the table. Dick's heart sank. There was no turning back now…
"I found this in his room," Wintergreen said. "I don't know where he got the materials for it, Sir."
Dick rolled over and pushed himself to his knees, wiping blood away from his cheek with the back of his hand. He was so afraid…not only for himself or the Titans but also for Jared Holden. The kid knew what he was risking when he agreed to help Dick contact the JLA Watch Tower, but so many people had already died on Dick's account. So many people could be hurt. But Dick knew that he could do nothing now. Slade walked over to the table and picked up the radio.
"Interesting…and how creative." Slade examined the microphone. "Where did you get the parts?"
Dick said nothing.
The mercenary walked back over to Dick and held up the radio. "Clever, for using the training I gave you against me. Since you're not answering my first question, then how about this: what did you use it for?"
Instead of answering Slade's question Dick scrambled to his feet and began to run. Blind panic engulfed him now. He knew that it didn't make sense to run, but he did anyway. Before he had gotten three feet away Slade reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to the center of the room. The criminal mastermind rammed a fist into Dick's stomach and then grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully behind his back.
"Move again and I'll break your arm," Slade hissed. "Now answer my question."
When Dick didn't answer Slade pressed down harder on his arm. In that moment Dick realized that Slade would do it. Out here in the wilderness no one was going to hear him scream.
"STOP!"
He cried out that word as loud as he could, desperately hoping that Slade would stop. Dick was spun around so fast that he became dizzy. Stars popped in front of his eyes as he was slammed against the wall. Slade pinned his arms to the wall and hovered over him, an unstoppable force.
"Why don't we…try that again?" Slade grabbed Dick's chin and forced him to look at him, his fingers digging into Dick's cheeks. "You don't ever tell me what to do."
Dick didn't want to look at him. He didn't want to hear Slade lecture him. His feelings of claustrophobia increased. He felt trapped, unable to move or speak without throwing himself into deeper trouble. When Slade spoke, he didn't yell, but Dick wished that he would. His soft, dangerous tone was far more frightening.
"Right now, this is about you and me. Not about the Titans. Not about Wayne. You weren't being truthful with me."
"You weren't either!" Dick shouted, his voice sounding strangled. "If you really trusted me then you would have told me everything!"
"I didn't lie to you, did I?"
"No, but you might as well have!"
A sudden backhand to the face sent Dick sprawling to the floor. As he tried to crawl away Slade began to kick him ruthlessly. A boot to the face caused blood to seep from his nose. Dick tried to stem the blood with one hand, using his other arm to propel himself pathetically across the floor. I have to get away...I have to...
Slade grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him back to his feet. A large hand wrapped around his throat, tightening painfully around his windpipe until Dick stopped thrashing.
For a moment Dick thought Slade was going to kill him.
Cold sweat tickled down his spine as he hung, frozen in fear, too scared to move or say anything as he gazed straight into the face of his captor. His hands clutched at Slade's arm, but Slade didn't let go. The tips of his shoes barely touched the floor as Slade held him in that chokehold. Blood trickled down his forehead and his nose, dripping down noisily onto the floor. Dick struggled to breathe, his breaths coming in great gulping gasps.
"Have you ever been so terrified of me before?" Slade whispered. "I know you're scared."
Slade wasn't holding back…not anymore. All this time Dick thought that his situation just couldn't get worse. Now it had. Dick had never been so terrified in his life. Not even when he was kidnapped by some of the Bat villains. This…this was different.
"Are you scared, Dick?"
"…yes…"
Dick's voice was barely above a whisper. Black caressed the edge of his vision, he needed air. He wanted to pass out. Anything to get away from the pain. But Slade held him there, just enough to keep him quiet yet not enough to allow him to slip into unconsciousness.
"Good, because I would like to make you understand," Slade breathed, "that you will never overtake me. You will never win. Is that clear?"
He wanted to defy Slade so badly, but his fear of Slade began to build up inside of him.
"…yes…"
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good. Now tell me where you got your information."
When Dick shook his head Slade slapped him hard across the face and slammed him against the wall again, keeping Dick's arm in a crushing grip. "This isn't helping you."
As Slade brought his fist back to hit him again Dick began to shout, rising his arm above his head to block the blow.
"I CONTACTED THE JLA WATCH TOWER!" Dick yelled, his voice cracking. "I used the radio tower nearby…contacted an amateur radio operator and used Morse code to send an SOS…I know our coordinates…"
He wanted to hit himself for the sudden outburst. But the pain was so bad…he just wanted it to end. He wanted all of this madness to end. Dick waited for Slade to hit him again. He knew that this wasn't the end of the beating, but would Slade stop if he continued to confess? Slade didn't lessen his hold on Dick's arm, but he didn't make any move to hurt him. He considered Dick, his eye narrowed in distrust.
"And how did you figure out our coordinates?" Slade breathed.
Dick swallowed. Was he really giving in like this? Like a coward...
"Simple geometry…made a sextant and deduced my coordinates from the stars…"
He shut his eyes tightly. There. He said it. Now there was no other option left for him. Let go of me, Slade…please…let me go…
"Who's the radio operator?"
At once Dick wished that he never met the Holdens. He wished that he didn't know who the operator was, so that he could protect them.
"I don't know…" he whispered. "We never exchanged names."
It wasn't the answer Slade wanted to hear. It was a downright lie that Slade was sure to see through. But did it even make a difference? Slade could figure it out on his own, so why did he want Dick to say who? Slade didn't even smirk as he shook his head.
"You can only protect him for so long."
They'll be hurt…killed…Dick thought. It's all my fault.
"Then I'll make sure that I can, for as long as possible."
To his surprise, however, Slade began to laugh. The mercenary's grip on his arms loosened and Dick managed to wrench his arm free. He collapsed to the floor and began to massage his hurt arm. He was hurt. He was tired. Would this nightmare never end? A few seconds passed in silence. Then, inexplicably, Slade began to laugh. It was the cold, derisive laugh that he saved for special occasions, the same laugh he used when Dick tried to beat him down the first time in the Haunt.
That awful, awful laugh.
"I knew that there was a reason I chose you as my apprentice," Slade said. "I never expected you to do something like that…well done…"
Color began to flood Dick's cheeks as Slade began to applaud him. He scrunched his shoulders and looked at the floor.
"What a plan…betrayal, destruction, revenge…we really do think alike, don't we?"
Unadulterated hatred coursed through Dick's veins. He was sick of being manipulated. Sick of being compared to him. Sick of being treated like this. He didn't want to hear this again.
"I am nothing like you," Dick hissed. "I don't care how many times you say it. You. Can't. Control. Me."
He knew that he was contradicting himself. He couldn't keep saying that for long. Slade could and would—as far as he could tell—control him. Even without the Titans to keep him at bay Slade just demonstrated that he could beat him into submission.
"Huh," Slade said, "even after all this…you still defy me. But that doesn't excuse you for disobeying me."
Slade grabbed a fistful of Dick's hair and began to drag him out of the room. Dick reached up to clutch at Slade's hand, his teeth gritting in pain. Instead of allowing Slade to drag him Dick tried to stand on his feet to ease the pain.
"What are you doing?" Dick demanded. "Where are we going?"
Slade didn't answer.
They continued to walk to another part of the house that Dick never went to, down the stairs to the basement. Slade opened a door and threw Dick inside. As the younger man righted himself he saw a mess of metal pipes running all along the ceiling and against the wall, reminding him of Slade's Haunt in Jump City.
"What are you doing?" Dick asked again.
Without answering, Slade kicked out Dick's legs from under him. Startled and caught off guard, Dick offered little resistance as Slade dragged him to the pipes. He pulled Dick upright and produced a pair of handcuffs from his utility belt. Dick felt his arms being pulled over his head. Slade snapped a handcuff around one wrist and then put the empty one around a pipe before securing it to Dick's other wrist.
"I'd rather not do this to you," Slade said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you've left me no other choice."
Before Dick could ask a question Slade duct taped his mouth shut. Panic began to build in Dick's chest as Slade turned to leave the room. The mercenary wasn't just going to leave him here—was he? Dick needed medical attention badly. He twisted around to look for something—anything—that would give him a clue to what was going on.
He stopped moving as pain flared up in his side. As Dick waited for something to happen he allowed his thoughts to wander. Did he have a broken rib? It felt like it. There was no denying that he was going to be out of commission for a while as he recovered.
Lights flickered on.
A television screen flickered to life, showing the four bloodstreams of the infected Titans. Almost at once Dick began to thrash in his bonds, his muffled screams lost behind the gag.
No…
Slade strode back into the room with the controller in his hand. Frantically, Dick shook his head. The older man looked at him indifferently.
"This is the price for your disobedience," Slade said, "I will annihilate them and I will make you watch."
He pushed the button.
NO!
There was nothing he could do to make Slade stop. He couldn't say anything. Not a plea or an insult. His bonds prevented him from leaping forward to snatch the controller from Slade. The mercenary just stood there, holding the controller mere inches away from his face. He was helpless…utterly helpless to stop him. Eventually, he slumped in his bonds and allowed tears to fall freely down his cheeks.
With the duct tape over his mouth Dick felt as though he couldn't breathe, what with his nose getting clogged up. As though in response to Dick's thoughts, Slade walked up to him and tore it off of his face. He took great gulps of air and coughed.
"Please…" Dick said between sobs. "Don't let them die…please don't…"
Time was running out. Frantic, unorganized thoughts scurried through his mind as he tried to think of something to say to make Slade stop. If Slade hit him again he might black out…and then he wouldn't be able to say anything at all.
"I'll do whatever you want, Slade!" Dick shouted. "DON'T HURT THEM! OH GOD, PLEASE DON'T—"
Slade slapped him hard across the face. Darkness engulfed him as he momentarily passed out from the blow. In a few seconds he was rudely sent back to the present. Slade waved the small vial of smelling salts under Dick's nose again.
"Can't have you passing out now, can I?" Slade asked. "Calm down. They have a minute to live. Tell me…my apprentice…if it is a choice between Bruce Wayne and the Titans, which would you choose?"
Dick looked at him, horrified. How on earth could he choose something like that? How could he calm down? What was happening to them now? What was going on? Were they already dying? What if-?
"Please, don't make me choose," he whispered.
"Make a choice now or they both die."
Several thoughts ran through Dick's mind. Why did he have to make this choice? What would Bruce think? Would Bruce tell him to save the Titans or save himself? No, Bruce would never put himself before others…
"Time's running out."
"The TITANS!" Dick bellowed. "Please…stop…"
Why didn't Slade press the button? Dick forced himself not to shout anymore. He bit his lip as Slade held the controller in front of his face.
"Promise me something, Dick," Slade said, "that you'll do whatever I ask."
"Yes…I will."
Was he lying this time? Dick didn't know. Slade wouldn't even let him slip into the bliss of unconsciousness. He wasn't going to let Dick do that until he was finished with him.
"Even if I order you to kill someone?"
Dick's breath caught in his throat. He knew that if Slade didn't hear the answer he wanted, then the Titans would die. Dick didn't want to promise that he would kill for Slade, but what choice did he have? Right now, he was in no condition to argue, and Slade knew it. Dick hung his head.
"Yes."
Would he keep his word? Would it matter?
Slade pressed the button.
Why didn't he just let them die? Dick thought, wrapping his arms around himself. Is it because he knows that it's the only way he can control me? What does he want out of me?
This was the second time Slade actually had to push the button to trigger the nanobots. The first time Dick witnessed the bots eating the Titans from the inside-out. But if they were in the way why didn't Slade just kill them? He had every right to. No…he didn't have the right to. Why was he thinking that? Slade had the power to kill them. Was it because they were still necessary as a ledge to keep him under control? Or because Slade wanted to keep him in this constant emotional agony?
His vision became out of focus as Slade uncuffed him from the pipes. He fell to his knees, his arms trembling as he tried not to collapse completely. Why couldn't he just black out?
"Sl—Master…" he said carefully. "I'm sorry."
Slade looked down at him. What else could Slade possibly do to him? Slade bent down and tipped Dick's head upwards. Despite himself, Dick began to tremble. Was he always going to look up at Slade like this?
"You brought this upon yourself," Slade said, "you are never to do anything of the sort again. Is that clear?"
When Dick didn't answer he felt Slade grab a fistful of his hair.
"I asked you a question. Answer it."
"Yes, Master," Dick replied weakly.
Was this really his breaking point? Even though he answered Slade still didn't let him go.
Stop…
"You swore an oath to me, did you not?"
"Yes…I did."
"I've kept my end of the bargain, Dick, so you better keep yours."
Slade let him go. There was nothing more Dick wanted to do than to melt into the floor. Where could he run? Where could he go? Dick cradled his throbbing head in the crook of his arm. He didn't want to move. He just wanted to lie there and sleep, but at the same time he didn't want Slade standing over him. He shut his eyes, one of which was swollen swell shut.
And breaking Slade's trust…he really was alike to Slade, wasn't he?
Am I really like him? He thought wearily. Or have I just been driven to desperation? Was that Slade's intention?
Dick didn't know. All he knew was that he was ready to give up. But he couldn't give in. He just couldn't. Dick had lasted this long. He didn't want any help from Slade or Wintergreen. Dick just wanted to go home. Why couldn't he just go home? Why wouldn't Slade ever allow him to leave? Bruce let him leave…but Bruce…
"Is this understood, Dick?"
"Yes."
That answer seemed to satisfy Slade. Dick didn't know what to do if it didn't. He heard Slade walk around him, pacing uneasily before stopping next to his shoulder. He groaned as Slade bent down and draped Dick's limp arm over his own shoulders, helping him to his feet. He found himself leaning on Slade completely for support as they slowly walked back to his room.
He hated being so close to Slade, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to go anywhere by himself after that beating. They didn't speak. Even if Slade offered some conversation Dick wouldn't know how to respond; he was too emotionally numb to talk.
He didn't kill them…Dick thought wearily. That's the second time he's let them live. Why did he do that?
As Slade eased him onto the mattress Dick burst out into tears again. Slowly, because of the pain, he curled himself into a ball.
"Hey, it's ok," Slade said softly, brushing his bangs away from his eyes, "you'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."
It's never going to end, Dick thought, he'll keep me here forever…
He heard Slade move around. Dick didn't protest as he felt something wet on the crook of his arm.
"It's a sedative," Slade explained, as though Dick hadn't already figured it out, "it'll knock you out for a while."
"I don't care."
Dick didn't flinch as he felt the needle break skin. He wanted to be knocked out. Staying awake in this much pain would be so much worse. He didn't want to lie there for hours, imaging what Slade was going to go out and do once Dick was locked in. Even if the Titans were going to be in danger…he didn't want to know.
For a moment he imagined his father…John Grayson…at his side.
Dad…why did Slade do that? Dad, why aren't you here? Why can't you help me…?
No one answered him. In that moment he wanted his father here…still alive and there to comfort him. His father, who died alongside his mother on the day that Tony Zucco poured acid on the ropes of the trapezes.
He let out a slight sigh as the sedative began to take effect. Almost immediately the world around him began to fade. This was going to be a dreamless sleep, for which he was grateful. His aches and pains ebbed to dull throbs. He felt fingers run through his hair, as though reassuring him that everything was going to be all right. A few thoughts passed through his mind.
Even though Slade constantly threatened to kill the Titans, he didn't let them die. What if he secretly didn't want to kill them? No...no, that wasn't possible. Slade must have another reason. Before Dick blacked completely out a horrible thought crossed his mind:
What if Slade didn't kill them because he wanted Dick to kill the Titans himself?
A/N:
….
So, is it bad that this was saved under "beatdown" in my documents folder? Mentally I referenced this as the "oh shit" chapter that I was writing towards.
This is just one…long…POV section. I began writing this chapter in November, just so I knew what I was working towards. I wanted this chapter to be perfect (and I didn't want to unintentionally copy Rena Redhead). This may be the only chapter in which you read one long POV section. It was written that way to make you feel the long, suffering agony he's put through. I intentionally left out the Titans' POVs so that, like Dick, you become paranoid and fearful for their safety. Originally I had other POVs here, but then I realized that it wouldn't be the same. This chapter needed to be formatted like this. This is because Slade and Dick's relationship is the focus of this fic. And...yeah.
Are you sadists happy?
Review. Review now.