A/N - TW - mentions of Dick's canonical rape by Tarantula, the aftermath, and a scene with Tarantula. Disclaimer - this is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Do not kill anyone for any reason. It is both illegal and wrong.

Dick was surprised to get a call from Bruce on Tuesday morning, barely two weeks after his last message.

His dad had been incredibly respectful about only calling him once a month, despite the fact that Dick hadn't even returned the last few messages. The longer he stayed with Slade instead of going back home to Gotham (because Bludhaven would never be home again, Dick thought sadly. It would always remind him of…) the more nervous Dick had grown about having a conversation with his father.

The times they had talked since Dick's flight, Bruce had always been so careful not to ask his son when he was planning to return or to pry into what happened that made him leave, and his father's tender thoughtfulness always made Dick weep when he got off the phone after one of their brief chats, but as more and more time went by, Dick knew that he owed Bruce an explanation.

The problem was, he still wasn't ready to tell him the truth.

So like an actual dick, Dick had started avoiding his father's calls, although he dutifully checked in once a week to let Bruce know he was alive and, well, alive. Not well, but Bruce didn't need to know that part.

Although, Dick wasn't as unwell as he'd once been, thanks to the man whose lap Dick's feet were resting in as he lay stretched out on the couch in their swank hotel suite in Boston playing Candy Crush on his phone while Slade read a book with actual paper pages.

"Bruce is calling," Dick said in concern, automatically letting it go to voicemail.

Slade raised his eyebrow as he immediately set his book aside.

"Something happened," he grunted on intuition, reaching down to massage Dick's bare feet in a soothing caress.

"We'll handle it together, Little Bird. Ok?" Slade said, feeling the nervous tremors that were already coursing through Dick's muscles.

"Ok," Dick mumbled, blinking a little bit to fight off his anxious tears.

The slightest worries still set him on edge these days, and how was he ever going to find a way to explain that to Bruce? That he couldn't suit up as Nightwing (at the moment, Slade always reassured him, but Dick wasn't so sure) because his mentee Tarantula had done in minutes what none of the villains he'd ever faced as either Nightwing or Robin had managed - she'd broken the bird, leaving him a shuddering mess of PTSD and compromised abilities.

"Come here, kid," Slade ordered, tugging on Dick's legs until the younger man scooted down closer to him and allowed himself to be pulled to sitting and safely snuggled under Slade's arm.

"I've got you," Slade said. "Put it on speaker."

"Ok," Dick mumbled, burying his face into Slade's shoulder after hitting 'play.'

"Son," Bruce's recording started out, and oh.

Bruce didn't sound good. Shit. He was crying?

Not Jason. Please, not Jason, Dick's brain began whirring as his breathing sped up and Slade cradled him tighter.

"Stephanie Brown's dead," Bruce said, and Dick felt like an absolute asshole, but his breath flew out in a whoosh of relief and the tears that started to leak from his eyes were out of gratitude at first.

"I had let her become Robin," Bruce was saying, and then he was explaining and oh, God, it was awful.

Absolutely awful and Dick's throat got tight and then he was crying in earnest, for the right reasons, this time, although it didn't feel much better. Oh, God, Bruce - Dick and Alfred alone knew how wrecked Bruce had been when Jason had been killed, and this time, it sounded like Bruce might have actual grounds to blame himself, although of course, he shouldn't, because if Bruce blamed himself then Dick should blame himself, too, because -

"I should have been there," Dick burst out in a guilty sob. "Batman can't handle the city by himself. He could have called me for backup when he fired Steph if I'd been at home, and maybe we wouldn't have lost her, or we could have fixed things sooner and Black Mask never would have gotten her, or -"

"Kid," Slade gently interrupted, hugging him close. "It wasn't your fault."

"But maybe -" Dick started to say.

"Little Bird," Slade said, and why couldn't Dick let himself be happy with the man who made his stomach swirl with so much love and belonging and tenderness every time he uttered his affectionate nickname, Dick wondered.

Ever since his twenty-first birthday, Dick had been tied in knots over the fact that Slade wasn't his soulmate, because Dick had been desperately in love with the mercenary - now, even more so, since they'd spent the last year traveling together while Slade pieced Dick back together after Tarantula's rape.

Dick hadn't yet been ready to move forward into an out and out romance with Slade, though, feeling riddled with guilt at the idea of destroying his future soulmate's claim to happiness. Slade hadn't pushed him in the slightest and was, in fact, adamant that Dick not rush into any decisions that he might regret later until he'd come to terms with having his virginity raped away as well as made peace with the soulmate dilemma that was plaguing him. So, Dick and Slade hadn't had sex, despite sharing a bed every night where they spooned as chastely as a wizened old married couple.

But as Dick found Slade catching him once again when Robin tumbled wingless from the sky, Dick found himself wondering if it was time to come in for a permanent landing. He was never going to leave Slade; he knew that, now. Dick was sorry for his soulmate, but for once in his life, Dick wanted to be selfish and claim the love that he'd always longed to find, even if it had come in a different form than he'd once fervently believed it would.

"Everybody has to play the hand Fate deals them," Slade was saying to him, "and you and I both know she can be a real bitch. You weren't meant to be there this time, baby," Slade said gently as one hand brushed Dick's black hair back from his forehead in soothing strokes.

"I love you," Dick said, craning his head up so he could look into Slade's one eye.

"I love you, too, Little Bird," Slade said back easily as he continued to smooth his hair.

The aching longing in Dick's heart began to swell to unbearable levels as it mixed with his grief over poor Steph Brown and his heartache for Bruce, and oh, God, Jason and Tim, what must they be going through, and suddenly Dick couldn't stand it any more and he lunged forward and pressed his lips to Slade's in a needy kiss, his left hand clutching at Slade's shirt for only the briefest moment before sliding around the mercenary's neck to pull himself closer into their first kiss.

And Slade, God bless him, didn't pull back or try to stop him or ask him if he was sure, but immediately sunk deeper into the kiss, sliding his much more experienced tongue into Dick's mouth and stroking with sure, sexy but comforting thrusts as Dick's second arm found its way to cling to Slade's neck and his acrobatic legs swiveled around and pushed and pulled himself up until he was sitting sideways in Slade's lap.

Slade's arms were tight around his waist, now, and Dick was whimpering into the kiss in the midst of his hungry moans, feeling such a mix of sad and happy and heartbroken and relieved and above all, safety, that he never wanted to let go.

"I've resolved all my issues," Dick mumbled against the corner of Slade's mouth sometime later when they finally broke apart.

"Is that so?" Slade said, amused.

"Uh huh," Dick murmured, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss into Slade's neck. "Fuck Fate," Dick sighed. "I'm sorry for my soulmate, but you're the one I need to be with," he said with resigned certainty.

"I feel the same way," Slade grinned into Dick's temple.

"Except for the feeling sorry for my soulmate part," the mercenary said after a beat.

"You asshole," Dick giggled.

"Hey, our soulmates, can fend for themselves just like we have," Slade pointed out. "It ain't our fault Fate was too stupid to mark us for each other."

"Mmf," Dick half-heartedly argued while he pecked more kisses along Slade's jaw. "I'm tired of fighting it," he admitted when he laid his head down on Slade's shoulder. "You're always here for me and I always want you to be."

"I always will be, kid," Slade promised.

Jason had been very pleased to wake up with a pajama-clad Black Bat still snuggled under his arm in the morning, curled up tight against his chest deep inside the mountain of blankets and pillows they'd used to fortify themselves against the dry-ice cold of the Steph-filled bathtub they were leaning against.

And Cass's legs were tangled up with his, too, Jason noted with absurdly delighted glee, and the fact that her pajamas were, in fact, Jason's own boxers and t-shirt made the morning absolutely top-notch in Jason's book, except for the Dead Robin sleeping behind them.

But Steph wasn't going to be dead for much longer if Jason and Cass had anything to say about it, so Jason decided that a little over-the-top heart-squiggling happiness was perfectly allowable and did not make him an asshole.

Cass shifted in his arms and blinked her eyes open.

"Morning," Jason smiled at her.

"Hi," Cass smiled back, warm and sleepy and fuck, Jason really wanted to kiss her.

But her best friend had just died so that would probably be a shitty thing to do, especially with Steph lying right there and all. Jason settled for some caressing strokes along Cass's back instead and… was that a little sigh escaping his Black Bat's throat?

Oh, it definitely was, and she was nuzzling him now with her head, and - oh, fuck, her top leg was getting a little too close to his morning wood.

"Are you hungry?" Jason asked Cass, suavely rolling her off of him and - crap, she'd see it if he stood up, wouldn't she. Damned pajama pants.

"I can make breakfast while you take a shower, if you want," Jason offered.

"Ok," Cass said, still smiling until she glanced over her shoulder at Steph and sighed, reaching out to scritch her dead friend's head with her fingernails.

Jason took advantage of her distraction to stand up, carefully angling his hips away from her, before escaping the bathroom.

"There's another shower in my bedroom you can use," Jason said to Cass from the hallway, artfully using the doorjamb as a disguise.

Cass reluctantly left Steph with a final hand through the hair and stood to follow Jason, who carefully stayed in front of her as he led her to another set of stairs.

"It's the only furnished room upstairs," Jason said, slinking behind the wall as he pointed the way out to her. "The other room's for storage. There's clean towels and shower stuff in the bathroom you can use. I'll start on breakfast," he said, quickly making a beeline for the kitchen.

Cass gave his back an amused glance before climbing the stairs. As if she didn't know what he was trying to hide, she giggled to herself. Hood was awfully cute when he was embarrassed, she thought contentedly.

She'd liked waking up with him. He made her feel all warm and cozy in a more flushed and enticingly delicious way than Steph ever had when they used to curl up on the couch together sharing a blanket and watching chick flicks, nothing more than two best friends and a bowl of popcorn.

Cass knew about soulmates, thanks to Steph, of course, but she loathed the idea, although that was one thing that she hadn't shared with her best friend. Steph was excited about meeting her soulmate one day, like most people were, it seemed, and Cass had felt shy about broaching her feelings on the Universe's dictatorial oversight that she hadn't even known existed until Steph had told her about it.

Steph had been a wealth of information about so many things that David Cain had denied knowledge of to his daughter.

Sex, for instance.

Steph had unabashedly asked Cass what she knew and didn't know once she'd come to understand how severely Cass had been abused and repressed, and then Steph had explained in gory detail, complete with internet pictures, all about sex, and pregnancy and childbirth and babies, too, of which Steph had actually had one!

Cass couldn't help but wonder why her friend who was so set on settling down with her soulmate one day had had sex in the first place, but Steph had shrugged.

"Stuff was shitty at home," she said. "My dad's friends had kidnapped me and my mom didn't even realize I was gone, and I met this guy Dean at the thrift store - he was older, not gonna lie - but he was really into me - which Tim said later was really fucked up and maybe even rape even though I wanted it, which really freaked me out and we had a fight about it - me and Tim, not me and Dean - but then I got worried Tim might be right which was why I didn't tell Dean about the baby, plus he'd left Gotham by then anyway - which kind of goes to show he was an asshole - but he was really good at sex, though, oh my god, some guys aren't, apparently, which is another reason to wait for your soulmate - they say that in school, the teachers do, although, I don't know, because I think if a woman masturbates enough and learns her own body than she can direct a guy how to please her in bed, if he's not a selfish jerk, that is - but anyway, what was I saying?"

"Oh, why'd I have sex. Because I was sad and lonely, I guess, and mad at my parents, and tired of being ignored, like how do you not even realize your own daughter is missing, helLO amirite? So I liked Dean paying attention to me and I liked having sex, too, although my mom wanted to make me wear a red A on my chest like in The Scarlet Letter but she was totally stoned when she said that, because having a baby was gonna be a lot more obvious than a big red A, you know?"

"What's The Scarlet Letter? Oh, it's a book - you haven't read it? Oh, you're so lucky. We had to read it in English class and it was the worst, all about this asshat calling shit on the woman he himself knocked up - Wait, what? You can't read? I'll teach you!"

Yes, Steph had taught Cass a lot. How to talk (as much as Cass could manage, which wasn't much, but Steph did more of the talking, anway, and always understood Cass perfectly well - much like Hood, in fact); how to read (Cass still wasn't great at it, but she got by now, at least); and, the biology lesson that had finally come in handy, the fact that most guys woke up with an erection.

Cass missed her Steph, and she'd only been dead for a little over twenty-four hours. But… having Hood nearby helped. Kind of a lot.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Jason was heating up some pans while he sliced potatoes, feeling immensely relieved to have avoided an embarrassing situation with the cute girl he was crushing on, when his phone rang.

He frowned and walked over to grab it from the side-table where it was charging. Not many people had his number, for good reason. He glanced down at the caller ID and - oh, shit, it was Dick.

"Hello?" Jason said, quickly answering before it went to voicemail. "Dickie? You ok?"

Jason didn't want to admit it, but he missed his older brother like crazy. Dick had up and left town barely a year after Jason had come back home with his resurrected self, and it had hurt, despite the fact that they hadn't exactly gotten back on buddy-buddy terms yet, which was definitely Jason's fault and not Dick's, but still.

One morning last year, Jason had been startled to wake up to a text message from Dick saying that some shit had gone down (what shit, he hadn't specified) and that he needed some time to clear his head so he'd be out of town for a little while, but not to worry.

Jason had worried, of course, and had gone out to Bludhaven to nose around in Dick's apartment that same day, but had found it relatively undisturbed. Sloppy as usual, and Dickie had so many clothes that Jason couldn't really be sure if he had packed for a vacation or not, but his toothbrush and deodorant were gone, which gave him a good clue.

News of Blockbuster's demise had reached Jason's ears that morning through the Gotham grapevine but he had thought nothing of it, until he sniffed out a few contacts in Bludhaven to find out if anything big had gone down with Nightwing recently and learned that not only had his brother recently gotten himself his own little Robin named Tarantula (which was not a creepy name at all, nope), but that the woman was wasting no time in boasting around town that she'd single-handedly killed Blockbuster last night.

Interesting, Jason thought to himself.

He caught up with the lady herself a few hours later, alone in a run-down motel she'd probably thought was a perfectly good hideout until Red Hood had a gun to her head.

"What is the Hood doing in Bludhaven?" she'd asked him with a raised eyebrow, playing it nice and cool.

"What happened to Nightwing?" he asked her bluntly.

She jumped a little bit, which was kind of a stupid move to pull with a glock pointed at her temple.

"Something happened to him?" she said. "What? Is he ok?"

"Bitch, I'm asking you," Jason growled at her. "Talk."

"What do you want me to say? Where is my man?" she said somewhat frantically.

Jason pressed the barrel harder against her forehead.

"Tell me exactly what happened the last time you saw him," he said. "And when that was."

"Last night," Catalina breathed out in a panic. "After I killed Blockbuster. We made love on the roof and then I -"

"Wait, what?" Jason said, frowning hard. "Are you soulmates?"

"Soulmates?" Catalina said, now the one to frown. "Love is not constrained by soulmates. Nightwing is the love of my life, he is -"

"It's a yes or no question," Jason said tensely, not at all liking the way that nausea waves were suddenly cramping his stomach, because, oh God.

"Is. Nightwing. Your. Soulmate," Jason growled. "Is his name on your hip? Yes or no."

"No," Catalina said in annoyance, barely having time to furrow her brow before a bullet had blown through it.

"Fuck," Jason breathed out, dropping to the floor as his stomach rolled. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not Dick," he muttered to himself. "Not Dickie. Fuck," he began to cry, curling up into himself and screaming into the bedspread as he beat his hand against the mattress.

Jason hadn't been surprised when Bruce had called him a few weeks later to say that Dick had resigned from the force and left town to see the world. Especially not since Dick had texted Jason the exact same thing a whole week prior, reiterating that his little brother shouldn't worry and that Dick was fine and everything was good, just peachy keen, just like always, Little Wing.

Right, sure, uh huh.

His big bro had continued to send Jason his never-ending stream of memes and gifs and stupid YouTube videos and even the occasional selfie since he'd been gone, but fuck it, Jason missed him and he hoped like hell that nothing else had gone wrong, because even though Dick would send him brief sporadic texts, he'd never once called and Jason was scared to admit how worried he was.

"Little Wing," he heard his brother's voice say, and dammit, Jason really didn't want to cry.

"What happened?" he growled out instead. "Are you ok? Do I need to come kick someone's ass?"

"No, I'm ok," Dick said, sounding confused. "I was worried about you."

"Me?" Jason said, frowning. "Why? I'm fine."

Dick paused.

"Bruce called me," he said slowly. "He said Steph Brown died and you found her and tried to help…"

"Oh, that," Jason said, letting out his anxious breath now that he knew that Dick was ok, even though he still had to rub his nose like he was the stupid hero-worshipping Replacement all fucking overcome at hearing Dick Grayson's voice.

"Yeah," Dick was saying though, sounding even more concerned. "That," he said cautiously. "I know it must be really hard on you, Jason," Dick said. "I can't even imagine what you're going through. I'm on my way home," he said reassuringly. "I should be in Gotham by tonight."

"Oh," Jason said. "Ok. Good," he said, thinking rapidly. "That's good," he hedged, rubbing the back of his head.

God damn it, of all the goddamn times for Dick to come home, Jason thought grumpily. He was gonna fuck everything up, Jason just knew it.

Because his plan depended in part on the Replacement and the Replacement would probably be at the funeral home tonight with Steph's mom since he was the only one Crystal had known unmasked, which meant Robin would be at either Wayne Manor or maybe his parents' house after, but if Dick was here the kid was gonna want to see Nightwing, and Dick would want to see Jason, and actually, Dick would insist on seeing Jason and Tim together, because that's how Dickiebird was, gathering in all the baby chicks under his hen wings, and if Jason let slip his plan then Dick would absolutely, positively, not let him go; and, if Papa Dick was around, the Replacement might even be the one to spill the beans to him, accidentally or on purpose, could go either way with that kid, and then Dick would tell Bruce, or - oh God, Alfred - Jason shuddered at the thought - and then Steph would stay dead and everything would be fucked and -

"Lemme talk to Slade," Jason said in a panic.

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

"Dickie?" Jason said again. "Lemme talk to Slade. Professional to professional. Absolutely nothing to do with anything you should be concerned about at all. Put him on."

The silence stretched on as dead as Steph.

"Dude!" Jason said louder. "Did the call get dropped? Put Slade on."

"How do you know I'm with Slade?" Dick said in a taut voice.

"Ummm…" Jason said.

Oh, crap. Well…

"I kind of maybe hired him to find you and check up on you last year?" Jason said hesitantly.

"When?" Dick said in a funny voice.

"After you sent me the text about quitting the force and leaving for good," Jason said.

"Oh," Dick said, sounding oddly relieved. "Not until then?"

"No," Jason said. "Until then, I figured you were coming back."

"So, wait," Dick said. "How do you know he's with me right now, then? If that was last year?"

Jason mentally groaned.

"Look, Big Wing," he said, "I might have run my mouth to Slade a little more than I should have when I hired him, but it was only because I was worried about you, ok? Because I know you pretend like you can't stand each other, but you and Grandpa Pirate are actually friends."

"Grandpa Pirate…?" Dick said slowly, some amusement lacing his voice.

"Don't change the subject," Jason fussed. "Look, Dickie, I know about Catalina, ok? I was worried and I told Slade and I know I shouldn't have and I'm sorry, but I was really scared you might off yourself or something, and I trusted him not to tell anyone else. I was kind of freaking out," he admitted very uncomfortably.

Dick's breathing was coming heavier on the other end of the phone.

"How - you knew?" Dick whispered. "And you were worried about me? Little Wing," Dick said in a crumbling voice and then Dickie was crying.

Well, that was just great, wasn't it.

"Gahhhhhhh!" Jason screamed to the wall as he held the phone away from his mouth and kicked his couch.

"Please let me talk to Slade," Jason begged when he brought the phone back up to his ear and Dick was still weeping away.

"No, you have to wait," Dick sulked back at him. "I get to enjoy knowing that my little brother cares about me for as long as I want."

"Is that why you're crying?" Jason said in disbelief as his jaw dropped. "Because you're happy? Oh, my God, dude, at least put me on speaker so we can talk business while you cry," he groaned, rolling his eyes up into his head.

"How did you know?" Dick asked him a few seconds later, though, apparently without complying with his little brother's request.

"I tracked Tarantula down and found out," Jason said.

"You couldn't have," Dick said in confusion. "She was already dead by the time I got back to Bludhaven to clear out my apartment and that was before I texted you about leaving."

"I found her the first time you texted me," Jason said. "The week before."

"Jason," Dick said, sounding absolutely stunned. "Why -"

"Because I was worried about you, ok?" Jason snapped. "I was worried and I went to Bludhaven looking for answers and I found them and I didn't like them so I put a bullet in her head. Ok? Just like Pops should've done for me but he didn't."

"Trust you to bring it back to Bruce," Dick chuckled quietly.

"Well," Jason sulked. "It's only fair."

"I know, Little Wing," Dick said soothingly. "I just can't believe - and you never said anything?"

"I said it," Jason grumbled. "I said it to Slade. Can I please talk to him now? Will it kill you to put him on?"

Dick paused.

"I don't know if I'm happy about you killing her," he said softly, "but I know I'm not mad."

"Good," Jason sighed. "Slade?"

"Boy, what the fuck do you need to talk to me about so badly?" the mercenary was grumbling into his ear a second later.

"Oh, thank fuck," Jason said in relief. "Finally. It's about goddamn time."

"So get the fuck on with it," Slade growled back at him. "My time is money, as you damn well know."

"No shit, old man," Jason snarked. "Look. I have a plan to bring my little Dead Robin back to life but I have to involve the Replacement in it - not for the League of Assassins part, but on the Gotham end of things. If Dick comes back to town the goddamn kid is gonna tell his hero allllll about what we're up to and then Dick will tell Bruce or Alfred or both and I'll get grounded and Steph will stay dead."

"You'll get grounded…" Slade said with dry amusement.

"Bitch, you know what I mean," Jason snapped at him. "Your job is to keep Dick the fuck out of it."

"You know my fees," Slade said calmly.

"You motherfucker," Jason growled at him. "Send me the goddamn routing number."

"Pleasure doing business, Hood," Slade said with a smirk as he hung up the phone.

Dick looked at Slade.

"Well? Care to explain to me how Jason knew you were with me? Because I'm still not clear on that part," Dick said. "He doesn't know about -" he broke off, biting his lip.

"Our mutual feelings of love and attraction?" Slade gently teased, reaching out and swiping his thumb over Dick's lower lip. "No. He thinks I'm training you. Finishing the apprenticeship you bailed on back in Titans."

"What?" Dick said, wrinkling his brow. "But - Jason knows I wouldn't kill anyone."

"He knows," Slade shrugged. "Doesn't mean you can't stand to learn a lot from me and it was an answer that satisfied him when he called wanting me to keep tabs on you. Makes sense you'd want to keep up with your skills even if you're not actively fighting crime. Hell, especially if you're not, to do something with all that hurt and anger," Slade said, running his fingers through the hair on the back of Dick's head.

"I can't believe he knew all this time," Dick said numbly as he sunk his head deeper into Slade's caress. "And that he killed Catalina."

"He's a good kid," Slade said and Dick smiled.

"You would say that," he said. "Bruce and I have been worried about him, since he came back to life."

"Seems like he's doing all right to me," Slade said. "Saved me a hit, after all."

Dick looked up at his boyfriend.

"You know I would've killed that bitch if she hadn't already been dead by the time we got back to Bludhaven," Slade said matter-of-factly.

"You big romantic," Dick said affectionately, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Slade's neck for a kiss.

Because maybe Dick didn't feel so great about his little brother killing someone on his behalf, but to hear his assassin boyfriend talk about protecting him? Yeah, that did make his heart feel a little warm and fuzzy, moral qualms be damned.

Besides, it wasn't like Slade had actually done it, so Dick didn't have to be angry at him.

"Hood?" Cass said hesitantly.

He turned around to see her standing in the living room, back in his t-shirt and boxers although her hair was wet now, from her shower.

"Ok?" she asked, coming up to him.

"Kind of," Jason sighed. "More or less?" he said. "Maybe? My brother's coming back to town 'cause he heard about Steph. He's Nightwing," Jason added but Cass nodded like she knew who he was.

"We need the Replacement's help with stealing the plane to get us to the League, and he fuckin' adores Dick so he's super inclined to run his mouth to him," Jason groaned. "And then Dick's gonna freak out about me possibly getting killed again and try to stop me from going, so I'm hiring his buddy Slade to keep him out of it."

"S..ade?" Cass worked out of her uncooperative jaw.

"Yeah, Deathstroke. You know him?" Jason asked her, looking down at his phone as it pinged with the routing number to Slade's Cayman Islands account.

He grumbled low under his breath as he tapped out the money transfer and hit send.

"The things I fucking do for Dickie," he muttered to himself.

"Know," Cass said, patting Jason's arm to call his attention back to herself. "Sade kill dad."

"What?" Jason said, his eyebrows hitting the roof. "Slade is the one who killed your dad?"

Cass nodded.

"He didn't kill you, too?" Jason said stupidly, because obviously Slade didn't if Cass was standing here, but it wasn't like Deathstroke to leave a contract unfulfilled.

"Not job," Cass shrugged. "Dad."

"Wow," Jason said, wondering who exactly might have wanted David Cain dead but not his even more ruthlessly talented daughter.

"Help," Cass said. "Want…" she trailed off, searching for the word.

"He wanted to make you his apprentice?" Jason guessed and grinned when Cass's eyes went as big as if he was a psychic.

"Yeah, he did that once to Dick, too," Jason said. "I'm not supposed to know about that, but I do," he said with a sly grin. "Dickie's with him again now, training. He, um, he -" Jason paused.

It was one thing to share Dick's secret with Slade. The two men had a long history together and Jason had known in his heart that Slade would watch out for Dick even harder if he knew the truth about his assault. But Cass hadn't even met Dick yet, and even though Jason liked her, he wasn't sure, so…

"No say," Cass said, laying a hand on his arm. "Ok," she said.

"Thanks," Jason said in relief. "I would, I just don't know if Dick would want me to tell."

"Ok," Cass smiled at him. "Food?" she asked and Jason jumped.

"Aw, shit, I forgot 'cause Dickie called," he said, running back into the kitchen, where his pans were blazing hot, but fortunately, due to being cast iron, not burned.

"Can you finish cutting the potatoes up?" Jason asked her as he moved to get eggs out of the refrigerator.

Cass nodded and began wielding the knife with a deadly speed and precision that made Jason smile and she noticed and smiled back at him and Jason liked her so much, he really did, and maybe he was kind of glad after all that Dick was coming back to town even if it might make their quest more complicated.

Because if Dick was back before they left, then Dick could meet Cass, and maybe if Jason was going to take a risk on dating Cass a full two years before knowing if she was his soulmate or not, then maybe he'd kind of like his big brother to meet her and give him a thumbs up or at least let him know that he wouldn't hate Jason forever for potentially bailing on the fairy tale ending.

Poor Dickie had learned the hard way, after all, that some dreams don't come true, so maybe he'd try to understand where Jason was coming from, wanting to pursue the girl he was progressively becoming crazier and crazier about who would fit perfectly into his vigilante lifestyle instead of letting her go and taking a chance on Fate being kind to him in two years.

As if that bitch had ever been kind to him before.

As Cass finished slicing the potatoes and came over to pour herself a cup of coffee, she raised a mug up to ask Jason what he wanted in his.

"Just black, thanks," Jason said and she smiled at him and slid the first mug over to him.

"There's milk in the fridge," Jason said, thinking, "and I've got sugar in the pantry, I guess, if you want it," but Cass shook her head no and poured a second cup of black.

She set it down carefully before turning and wrapping her arms tight around Jason's waist as he stirred the eggs at the stove, and holy fuck, Jason hoped Dick would understand, because Hood was falling damn hard for Black Bat.

A/N - Lots more coming! Comments are life. You can follow me on Tumblr as River9Noble. Come say hi!