Disclaimer – Own nothing.
To wolfclaw1098 – Thanks for your review! Thanks, I'm glad you are liking how I'm doing Slade! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
To FireShifter – Thanks for your review! I'm glad you are liking the story! I hope you like this chapter as well!
To LaurenHardy13 – Thanks for your review! Yeah, a lot criminals do have a code against hurting kids, and unless he thinks he has to, I think Slade would adhere to that as well. Unfortunately, he's going to think he has to in this chapter. Hope you like it!
AN – Okay guys. This is one of the two chapters that makes me wonder if I need to up the rating. Slade's method's turn a bit gruesome in this one, so you all let me know if you think I need change the rating.
Enjoy!
When Dick woke up, he was surprised to find that he wasn't in his cell. He was standing upright in the 'training' room, his back against the pole he was tied to weeks ago when Slade whipped him. His hands were chained above his head again, but this time, there were ropes wrapped around his elbows. Looking down, he noticed that there were even more ropes tied around his upper chest and his feet. He was completely restrained to the pole, to the point he could barely move an inch.
"Awake?" Dick tilted his head to the left to see Slade, standing in front of something with his back to him, looking over his shoulder at him. When Slade saw that Dick was staring at him, he turned back to whatever he was doing as he said, "Part of me wondered if I should do this when you were still unconscious, but I figured it would be more… effective if you were awake for it."
The young hero tried to ask what he was going to do, but only grunt came through. It was then he realized that there was a strip of leather in his mouth, in between his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but there was something keeping it stuck there. Lowering his head to the side, he rubbed his cheek against his shoulder in an attempt to get it off, but it didn't budge. It felt like duct tape. Dick's gaze landed on Slade again and he made a noise to get his attention but Slade, apparently understanding what his captive wanted, shook his head.
"The gag won't stay in for long. Just until this is over. I don't want you to bite off your tongue." Slade told him, fully turning around to face Dick, who paled as his heart started pounding in his chest when he saw what the assassin was holding.
It was a long metal rod with a red-hot S at the end. A brand. Slade had a brand with his initial on it, and was clearly about to use it. Use it on him.
Immediately, Dick started struggling, trying to get away. Panic completely overtook him. All he could think about was getting free, even though he no longer knew how to get out of the warehouse since that 'exit' wasn't real. As Slade reached his side, the brand seeming to glow brighter, he struggled harder, the ropes starting to burn his bare arms and the cuffs cutting into his wrists. Slade didn't seem to care. He just grabbed the bottom of Dick's shirt and lifted it up, wrapping it around one of the loops of ropes around his chest to hold it in place, exposing his lower stomach and hips.
"Don't struggle, it will just make it worse." Slade warned, pressing a hand against the acrobat's chest to try and hold him steady. Dick paused for just a moment, but that moment was all Slade needed and he pressed the red-hot brand against the boy's skin. There was a hissing sound, then unbelievable, excruciating pain.
Dick screamed as loud as he possibly could, despite the gag in his mouth. The agony completely blinded him. He didn't realize he had started crying until he had to breathe. He could barely take in any air before he continued screaming. His ears started ringing and his head felt dizzy, but he kept screaming. He didn't think he could do anything else.
After what felt like hours later, Dick was able to take another deep breath, then felt like he was going to puke. The air was filled with the smell of burnt flesh. His own burnt flesh. Again, he started panicking as his body started to go numb. He was going into shock. That was probably a bad thing, but he welcomed it. The shock took away the pain, and he'd do almost anything for the pain to go away.
"Shh, breathe. Try to breathe." Slade practically cooed, bringing up a hand to cup Dick's cheek, rubbing the tears away with his thumb. As Dick tried to catch his breath, Slade looked back down at the newly made mark and said, "Now look at that. From now on, everyone will know you belong to me."
As terrified as he was, Dick glanced down. There, above his left hip, was a bright red, turning black S. He was officially branded with Slade's mark, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. It was going to scar and everyone was going to see it. Again, his eyes filled with tears, truly feeling like he was no more than a piece of property to his captor.
YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ
Slade left him hanging there for hours. At least, he was sure it was only hours. It felt like it was days were passing. Thankfully, his injury remained somewhat numb, but his shoulders were starting to ache, badly. It wasn't a pain he was unfamiliar with. Pretty much every time he got kidnapped as Robin, the villains would string him up like this. However, this time was different. He felt so humiliated and like an object of ridicule and Slade wasn't even in the room. He had left almost right after he marked him. The tears had dried on his face, along with the snot that ran from his nose, which was still somewhat plugged, which was probably what made it worse.
Eventually though, Dick heard the door open. He glanced up, not surprised to see his captor come in, and dropped his head again. He didn't really want to know what was going to happen next and he didn't have the strength to even watch. Exhaustion was weighing him down and he wanted it to. He was so tired and just want this whole nightmare to end. But when he heard Slade approach him, saw his hands enter his line of sight with a container of some kind of cream and bandages, he instinctively tried to move away, not wanting to get hurt again.
"Easy, easy. Just cleaning you up. Last thing we need is for this to get infected." Slade explained.
Dick braced himself for the pain, but it wasn't enough. All of his numb senses suddenly became active and screamed at him as Slade began rubbing the cream on the burn. Apparently, the burn wasn't bad enough that all the nerves died, which was probably a good thing, but an extremely painful thing as well. Tears started filling his eyes almost immediately. He didn't think he had any tears in his body left to cry. He had to be getting dehydrated by now. How much time had passed since Slade branded him anyways?
"There you go, you're doing very well." Slade encouraged, finally moving his hands away from the injury as he finished cleaning and bandaging it. Dick's tears however still continued to fall. Slade stared at him for a minute, then grabbed something else from the bag. A syringe.
"Here." Slade whispered before sinking the needle into Dick's skin above the injury. As he pressed his thumb on the plunger, he again started wiping Dick's tears away and said, "Shh. It's okay."
It took a few minutes, but Dick felt himself start to calm down while the burn went numb. Slade must've given him a painkiller, and Dick was grateful. Seeing that he was more relaxed now, the assassin asked, "Are you calm? Thirsty?"
Dick looked back up at him, wondering if he was seriously offering. Seeing the bottle in Slade's hand and the sincere expression on his face, Dick slowly nodded. He fully expected the man holding him prisoner to pull away and laugh at him, but he didn't. Instead, he lifted a hand, untied the strange gag and pulled it from his mouth.
"Here you go." Slade said, holding the bottle up to Dick's mouth and tilting a little so he could drink. Dick downed almost the entire bottle before he moved his head to the side, signaling that he had enough.
Putting the water down, Slade asked, "Do you want to come down?"
"Yes." Dick answered. He expected Slade to start untying him, but he just raised his eyebrows and Dick hung his head.
He knew exactly what Slade wanted, even though he didn't say it. Slade had been trying to get him to say it for weeks now but Dick had always refused. He still didn't want to say it, but he wasn't sure had any strength to fight back anymore. His escape route was a fake and he had no other idea how to get free, and he had just been declared nothing more than a piece of property. Hurt and humiliation and hopelessness flooded his whole being. He wanted it all to stop, and apparently, this was the only way it was going to.
"Master." Dick mumbled, barely even hearing the word. He hoped that would be enough. He couldn't bring himself to say it any louder.
Slade suddenly grabbed Dick's jaw, lifting his head and forcing him to look at the criminal before saying, "I'm going to let you down, and take you back to your room now. Are you going to try to fight me?"
"No." Dick told him, his voice becoming more of a croak. His throat still hurt. It was going to take more than a couple of hours for it to recover from all the screaming he did. And more water.
"'No'?" Slade questioned, gripping Dick's jaw a little tighter.
"No, Master." Dick again mumbled, hating himself more and more for giving in.
"Good." Slade responded, then pulled out a knife. Dick couldn't help but flinch at the sight of the weapon, but the assassin ignored it and started cutting all the ropes that kept him still. Once he had done that, he put the knife away, pulled out the key to the handcuffs and said, "Try to relax."
Dick nodded, and watched silently as Slade unlocked the handcuffs. He started falling to the ground, his legs too weak to hold him but was caught by his torturer. Before Dick knew it, Slade had lifted him up into a bridal carry, and walked out of the room to his cell.
By the time they actually entered the cell, Dick was almost asleep. He was so tired. He wanted to fall asleep, wake up and discover this whole thing was just a terrible nightmare. He barely felt Slade lay him down on the thin mat that was his bed, or drape the blanket over him, or place the manacle on his ankle again. If he was more alert, he would've been surprised at how careful and gentle Slade was being, and most likely would've questioned it, but he didn't care. Honestly, it actually was a little nice to have someone caring for him after weeks of fighting and torture.
"Here, drink this." Dick heard Slade's voice pull him back to awareness before feeling something press against his lips. Instinctively, he opened his mouth and felt water start running into his mouth. He immediately started gulping it down, but only got three mouthfuls before the bottle was pulled away.
Seconds later, he felt even number, and more exhausted than he already did. He didn't think that was possible. As he sunk deeper into the darkness, he heard Slade's voice again, this time saying, "Get some sleep."
He didn't need to be told twice.
YJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJYJ
The squeaking of the rusty door hinges pulled Dick back into awareness. Blinking, he spotted Slade coming into the room. Inwardly, he groaned and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure what his captor wanted, but Dick wanted him to leave him alone. He was still in a groggy and pain-free state and wanted to stay that way. Unfortunately, Slade had made it clear over the last several weeks that he didn't care what he wanted.
"Awake?" Slade questioned. When the boy looked at him again, the older man smile and said, "Good," as he made his way over to him.
As he got closer, Dick noticed that Slade was carrying something in his hands. It looked like a medical kit and a thermos of some kind. It wasn't until the older man sat down on the floor beside him that he realized what he was going to do. He was going to clean the injury again, and it was going to hurt. Dick didn't want that. He really didn't want that. In order to keep him from doing that, Dick brought his hands to hover over the injury to block it.
"N-no. Don't." Dick pleaded as he also tried to move away while Slade reached for the injury to take off the current bandage, but Slade stopped to put a hand on his chest and pushed him down as he ordered, "Stop moving. You'll just make this worse."
"Don't touch. Please." Dick again begged. The injury was still numb but if Slade started messing around with it, then it would be more agony again and he didn't think he could take it right now.
"Stop moving." Slade repeated his command, not at all impressed that the boy wasn't holding still and was trying to cover the injury. He tried to push teenager's hands away but he wouldn't budge.
Though he understood his apprentice's fear and reluctance, he had no patience for his disobedience. So he grabbed the boy's wrists and pulled out a pair of handcuffs that he kept on his belt ever since Richard first tried to escape. He cuffed the smaller wrists together, then pulled his arms up to a large, old nail sticking out of the wall. One of the benefits of using old warehouses was that the old nails could be fairly useful. Hooking the small chain-link on the nail like he did with the old beam in the other room, Slade then started pulling out the disinfectant cream and some new bandages. From the corner of his eye, he saw Richard try to pull his arms down as his body was now in a pulled taunt position, but stopped and started sniffling as the movement pulled at the new burn and his old injuries.
"Behave and I'll take them off." Slade told him, then continued his task, ignoring the boy's whimpers and tears.
With the young teenager rendered unable to move, Slade quickly and efficiently cleaned the injury. Though to anyone with no knowledge of burns it looked a bit gruesome, and probably was, but Slade could tell it was starting to heal and there was no sign of infection. He wanted to keep it that way. Already this wound would take several days to heal to the point where he could restart Richard's training and an infection would only delay that. True, that happening would probably help the boy to learn to depend on him, but infections could be unpredictable. Slade didn't like anything unpredictable. Not when it came to training an apprentice.
"Here, I brought you some soup." Slade then told Richard as he finished placing a new bandage on the burn and grabbed the thermos. He opened it, then carefully tilted it to the former hero sidekick's mouth. Richard winced slightly as the soup was probably still a little hot, but quickly started gulping it down. Slade would have to keep an eye on how much liquids he gave the boy. One of the dangers of burns was that they could actually dehydrate the person and he didn't want to do that.
Once Richard had finished the soup, Slade pulled it away, put the lid back on and started cleaning up the small mess he made. "I'll let you get some more rest."
"Slade," Dick immediately called out, but when he was ignored, corrected himself as he shook the handcuffs and pleaded, "Master, take these off. Please."
The assassin immediately turned back to him. Placing a hand that felt comforting to Dick on his cheek, Slade said, "Shh. Calm down."
"Please." Dick begged, tears again starting to well up in his eyes. Slade actually gave him a somewhat sympathetic look before pulling a syringe out of his medical bag.
"I'll give you this to help you sleep. As for the cuffs, we'll see how you behave next time." Slade informed him as he injected the drug into Dick's raised arm.
"But," Dick tried to protest, but Slade cut him off by putting a hand over his mouth.
"Shh, go to sleep." The criminal ordered.
If Richard wasn't injured or drugged, Slade had no doubt the boy could easily pull himself up to stand and unhook the cuffs. However, in his condition it would hurt too much to do that, even though the position he was currently in had to be uncomfortable. He wondered if maybe leaving his apprentice chained like this was a bit harsh, especially after branding him but he needed to drive home the point that he was in charge and that Richard needed to follow orders. As well as learning to hold still even if he was in pain.
So he waited until he saw the kid's eyes close, then removed his hand, grabbed his stuff and headed out of the cell, locking the door behind him. Once he was out, Slade sighed and ran a hand over his face. Today had been a very difficult day.
Slade didn't usually have to go this harsh on a child. Then again, he had very few cases where children were involved at all. The ones that did, the children normally broke fairly easily, but Slade knew that Richard Grayson would be different. Part of him wondered if he maybe went a little too far with branding him, but another part of him wondered if it even worked. The boy may have started calling him 'Master', but he was still fighting a little. He would have to keep an eye on that. Hopefully, there won't be any more of this fighting and constant escape attempts going forward and the boy will truly become his apprentice.
AN – So, how evil am I?