His head was throbbing when he finally came too. He was cold, damp and tired but he was also led down on something soft and there was something covering his shoulders. Dick reached his fingers up and touched the fabric that was covering him, after a few seconds of staring he realised it was a heavy jacket. Curiously, he took in the rest of his surroundings. He was led in the back of a car, it was still night and the car wasn't moving.

'It's about time.' A voice said from the front seat.

Dick sat up and then groaned when his head throbbed harder and nausea threatened to wash over him. He glared through the darkness at the man in the front seat. As his vision adjusted, he could see the man was behind the wheel, but he was sat at an angle, so he could look back into the back seat.

Dick pushed himself into the door when he recognised the man before him.

'Death stroke.' He breathed, a hand clawing at the door for the handle.

'The doors locked so don't bother.' Said Death stroke calmly, his eyes looking bored behind his orange mask.

'Why am I here?' asked Dick.

'Because I don't know what to do with you.' The man confessed.

'If you're going to kill me, why didn't you when I was asleep?' said Dick, glaring.

'Richard, if I had wanted you dead, I wouldn't have stopped you jumping in front of a train.'

Suddenly the memory came flooding back. He had done that. He had tried to walk in front of a train.

'Why did you stop me?'

'That's a good question.' Said the mercenary. 'Why did you want to end your life?'

Dick's glare deepened, and Slade chuckled.

'I'll tell you my reasons when you tell me yours.'

'You know my name?' said Dick.

'Of course, I know. I've known yours and Bruce Wayne's identity for many years. It really isn't that hard to work out.' He sighed, 'I'm not here to fight with you. I have no reason to fight with you right now.'

'Then why am I in your car?'

'I didn't want to take you back to the Titans unconscious. I doubt they would have believed I hadn't harmed you. It would ruin my night having to deal with them.'

Dick frowned, very confused.

'Now that you're awake, I'll take you back.'

'No!'

The desperation in the boy's voice halted Slade's hand as he reached for the keys.

'You don't want to go back to the Titans?'

Dick shook his head and Slade sighed.

'I can contact the Bat to collect you, but I'd rather not have a confrontation, so I'll have to drop you half way.'

'No,' Dick whispered. 'Just leave me here, please.'

'I am not leaving you here. You just tried to kill yourself!' said Slade a little harshly.

'Why do you care?'

Slade's eyes narrowed as he glared at the boy. He didn't answer the question.

'Grayson, you are drenched through, you have a fever and are clearly mentally unstable. The Titans or the Batman, which is it?'

'Neither. Why won't you just leave me here?'

'Because I am not having the death of a teenager on my conscience!' Slade shouted. He pulled his temper back, considering his options. When he looked back again, Dick was rubbing at his face like a tired child. Even in the limited lighting of the car, Slade could see the flush that had appeared on the boy's cheeks. If he didn't get the kid out of those wet clothes and into something warm soon, his mental health wasn't going to be the only thing to concern about.

'Ok, third option. I'll take you to one of my safe houses. We can get you dry, and you can sleep. We'll discuss our next move in the morning when you don't look like you might pass out.'

This notion seemed to shock Dick, he hadn't been expecting that to come from the man he considered his enemy.

'Why the hell would I go anywhere with you?' he said harshly. 'You're a mercenary.'

'And apparently, you're a rich kid with issues.' Slade hit back. 'I'll tell you what, until we get this sorted, we'll leave Robin and Death stroke at the door. For now, we will forget the fact that I am a gun for hire and you're the Boy Wonder and just focus on the issue at hand. Deal?'

His next moved shocked Dick, even more, the mercenary unclipped his mask and removed it. Beneath the metal mask, he had shocking white hair and an eye patch. He also looked to be in his mid-50's.

'Do we have a deal?'

Dick suddenly realised how tired he was. Everything was spinning ever so slightly, and he felt so cold.

Slade frowned and reached a hand forward. The backs of his fingers brushed against the kid's forehead before Dick moved away. But the contact was enough.

'You're burning up. Being soaked twice in one day is not good for you. Lie down and go to sleep. We'll sort this out in the morning.'

Dick decided he was too tired to argue. He didn't care anymore, he just wanted to sleep. He lay back down and turned his back on the other man, showing Slade just how little he cared.

Slade shook his head and started the car. He knew where he could take the kid. He had a small safe house in the old warehouse district on the edges of Jump City. It was one of his oldest haunts that he had planned on shutting down. Once Grayson was on his way, he would close it up for good, so it didn't matter if the kid remembered where it was.

As he drove, he had to ask himself why he was doing this. Why didn't he just drop the kid off where the Titans could find him. He would be their problem then. But there was something in the way the boy had acted when he had pulled him away from the tracks. He had been terrified, screaming at him to get off. He had been muttering under his breath, tears rolling down his face "not again, please not again".

And that helpless look in his eye, the look of someone who is lost and cannot see a way through. He had seen that look before, on someone not much older than Robin. He had ignored it back then and despite all the terrible things he had done in his life, that was one of the things Slade regretted most. But not this time. He would not have another teens death on his hands because he ignored that lost look.

When he pulled up at the back of the building, he looked behind and saw Dick was fast asleep, but he was shivering into the jacket Slade had placed on him.

'This is going to end badly.' Slade said to himself as he got out of the car, walked around to the back seat and scooped the boy out. The kid barely weighed anything, so it wasn't hard to carry him and open the doors.

The entire warehouse was his property, but the living quarters were built under the main structure. He carried the boy down the stairs and into the small base.

It wasn't much. There was a small kitchen immediately to the left of the door. A square table in the centre of the kitchen space. A little further in there was a bathroom and further down still, there was a small bedroom with two beds. One of the beds had a curtain rail around it. He had installed the curtain on the occasion that he had stayed here with either of his sons, to give them more privacy. But that had been a while ago.

He lay Dick on the bed with the curtain and began taking off his running shoes. Sensing the movement, Dick began to wake. He immediately pulled himself from Slade's grasp and pushed himself away. Despite this sudden movement, Slade could see the boy's eyes were glazed over with fever.

'Richard, I need to get you out of your wet clothes.'

The boy shook his head sleepily.

'Then you need to do it yourself.' Slade stood up and went over to a cupboard on the other side of the sleeping area. He opened it and found a pair of loose sweats and a jumper that had belonged to one of his sons; it had been so long, he couldn't remember which.

When he turned back, the boy was pulling at the sleeve of his shirt, but he didn't have the energy to follow the movement through.

Slade sighed and knelt down in front of him.

'Let me help you.' He said, reaching forward. But Dick flinched back again. Slowly, things were beginning to piece together in Slade's mind. But he hoped he was wrong. For the moment he was just going to have to be gentle.

'Dick,' he said, hoping the nickname would settle the boy. 'If we don't get you dry and warm you are going to get very sick.' He explained. 'Please, let me help you, I promise I'm not going to hurt you.'

Dick seemed to consider this for a moment, logic fighting against his fear. He nodded, and he allowed Slade to touch him.

Slade slowly pulled at the boys' wet sleeves, tugging them away from the kid's arms and then bringing the rest of the item over his head. He heard a soft whimper coming from the kid as he did so, and he realised the boy was terrified. Trying not to make any sudden movements, Slade spent a few moments drying his torso with a towel and then proceeded to help him into the dry shirt. As he did so, he noticed the scars on the boy's arms. They were old, but there was no doubt in his mind what they were from. He then moved back to removing his shoes and socks and then started on the kids tight running pants. Dick was visibly shaking now, and Slade picked up his pace a bit. He was thankful that Dick's boxers were dry, at least he could spare the boy that. Instead, he quickly helped him into the pair of sweats that were a little big for him, but at least they were warm and dry. When he was done, Slade used the towel to dry the boy's hair slightly. The red flush had grown over his cheeks and Dick swayed where he sat, the fever was running its course.

'Here, drink this.' Slade brought a bottle of water the boys' lips and helped him drink some of the water. He then, guided the boy to lie down and tucked him under the covers, adding some extra blankets.

Slade watched the boy sleep for a while. Without his mask, it was easier to see just how young the boy really was. He would curse Bruce Wayne for bringing a boy so young into this game, but he had done the same thing with Joey and Grant. All he could do right now was put the Terminator to one side for the moment. Tomorrow he could find out why the Boy Wonder was in Jump City and why he was alone in the subway.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

For the third time, Dick woke up with no idea where he was. Without moving his body, his eyes scanned the room. It was small and there was another bed on the other side. He was alone. As he sat up, he had to push a heavy weight off himself, he realised once he was upright that the weight was a pile of blankets that had been placed over him.

He felt disgusting. He was covered in sweat making his clothes stick to his body and his hair to stick to his head.

He sat there for a moment, contemplating how he had gotten there and where exactly he was.

'Good morning.'

The voice made him jump a little, and he was about to violently flinch when he saw who had entered the room, but then he remembered the night before. Cyborg knew about his past, Bruce was going to force him to go home, he'd literally run away…he'd stepped in front of a train. Slade had saved him.

'Coffee?' the older male offered the steaming mug of dark liquid. 'We haven't got milk, so black will have to do.'

After only a moment's hesitation, Dick took the mug, thanking him. He blew on the beverage a few times before taking a sip. While he was drinking, Slade slowly approached and brought his hand towards his face. When Dick flinched again, he paused.

'I'm just checking your fever.' He said gently and started moving his hand again until his fingers rested on Dick's forehead. 'It's much better. How do you feel?'

Dick thought about it for a moment before answering honestly.

'Numb.'

'Which brings me to my next question.'

Dick groaned, he was going to ask him what he was doing at the station, why he had tried to end his life. This man was going to try and squeeze the secrets out of him.

'…what do you want for breakfast?'

The question made Dick look up and blink at him like a baby bird. Slade was being very…normal.

'I don't generally eat breakfast.' He muttered once he had regained his speech.

'That's why you're so small.' said Slade -making Dick blush slightly – but he didn't push the matter. Instead, he sat down on the other bed and sipped his own coffee. They sat in silence for a few minutes, then Slade spoke again.

'So, you don't want to go back to the Titans?'

Dick shook his head.

'Why not?'

'No offence.' Said Dick, eyes down at his mug. 'But I don't tell my dad what's going on in my head, do you seriously think I am going to tell you?'

'Yes, because unlike your father, you don't give a damn about my opinion of you.' Said Slade simply. 'I already know who you are, I even know who the Batman is. It's not like I need any more leverage.'

'Then why am I here?'

'I told you, I don't want you to leave my company and then end your life. I don't need that on my conscience.'

Dick glared at the man for a moment. The glare deepened when he realised the man might have a point.

'What if I gave you my word that whatever you tell me will not go beyond these walls.'

Dick's mind started to tick. He knew he shouldn't even be considering this. He should be trying to get as far away from this man as possible. But he was right. Dick really didn't give a damn what Slade thought of him and from what Dick knew about the man, from Batman's research and experience, Slade had done terrible things, but he was a man of his word. Plus, Dick was so tired of carrying this weight on his shoulders.

'Bruce wants to take me back to Gotham.' He said quietly.

'And that is a bad thing?'

'He'll put me on medication. Stop me being Robin.'

'I see.' From the tone of the man's voice, Dick believed that Slade might actually understand. 'So, you ran away?'

'It seemed like a good idea at the time.' Dick shrugged.

'Why does he want to take you home? You seem to be doing alright with your merry men.' Slade smirked, and Dick rolled his eyes.

'I didn't save myself when I was thrown off the bridge yesterday.' He paused, taking a deep breath. 'Everyone thinks I was trying to kill myself.'

'And were you?' Slade said patiently.

'…not actively.' Dick admitted. 'But the water was quiet. My mind hasn't been quiet in a long time.'

Slade leant forward, grasping the mug between both hands and leaning his arms on his knees.

'By the sounds of it, medication might help you.' He said the words suggestively, but there was no command to his tone. 'Anti-depressants can help.'

Dick shook his head, gripping the mug tighter. 'They made me so sick, I spent days lying on the bathroom floor too nauseous to stand. When that passed, I didn't feel anything.'

Slade tried not to react too much to this new information. It was clear Dick had been on anti-depressants before, strong ones by the sounds of it. He tried asking the boy the reason without sounding like he was prying. Dick had been twelve, he'd been gassed with Scarecrows fear gas during a patrol. The anti-toxin had cured him of the majority of the effects, but the new strain of the toxin left traces in his system. These traces, over the next couple of months, made it hard for him to differentiate between what was real and what wasn't.

'Kid Flash found me in my bathroom, I'd taken a Batarang to both of my wrists.' He closed his eyes, a look of shame washed over his features. 'I just wanted to feel something real. To feel I had control over something again.'

'And Wayne put you on anti-depressants because of that one incident?'

The shame on Dick's face deepened. 'It wasn't the first time, it was the first time I was caught. Even after KF found me…It had become a habit, it made me feel better, even for just a moment. When Bruce discovered the new cuts, he dragged me straight to the JL's shrink.'

'And they put you on happy pills.'

'And sedatives.' Dick laughed as he finally saw the irony. 'The shrink said I was a potential flight risk.'

Dinah had been concerned that Dick would have an episode of mania and either try to hurt himself again or run away. At the time, he had been outraged that she would suggest such a thing. He loved Bruce and Alfred, why would he run away? Now he was sat here, having had his second breakdown, in the presence of Death stroke the Terminator because he had not only tried to run away but tried to end it all. He had to admit, Dinah was a very good therapist – either that or she was secretly psychic.

'How long were you on them?'

'6 months. My therapist said I'd been harbouring depressive tendencies since the day my parents were killed. The fear gas escalated them, triggering the breakdown.'

Slade nodded, planning his next question.

'And what about this time? What triggered this one?'

As expected, Dick's walls went up instantly.

'It doesn't matter.' He said shaking his head. Slade was surprisingly easy to talk to, but no matter how easy talking was, he wasn't going to tell him that.

'It clearly does matter. Otherwise, I doubt you would have been in the subway last night.' Slade took a sip of his coffee. He had a debate going on in his mind. The boy before him was broken, that was for sure. He had a pretty good idea what it was that had triggered this breakdown, but it was clear Richard was repressing the incident. He knew this was insane. This was the Batman's kid; the freaking Batman! But putting that and his own relationship with the bat to once side; Dick needed help and he needed it now. It seemed Wayne's methods of dealing with his son were effective but dealt more with the depressive disease itself rather than Dick as a whole person. Even as Slade looked at the boy now, he could tell that there was no way he would be able to convince him to go back to his friends or family. And even if he did, the boy would only run away later.

He shouldn't care. But he did. Richard was just a kid and now that he had been stripped of Robin, he looked even smaller and fragile. No, Slade couldn't let him hurt himself. He would not let that happen to another vulnerable boy.

He cleared his throat. 'Well it's clear to me you don't want to go back to your friends. And you don't want to go back home. So, the only other option is you stay here.'

Dick back tensed and he looked over at the man with sudden fear.

'Not forever.' Slade said gently, understanding the boy's tension. 'Just until we can sort out what's tangled up in your head.'

Dick frowned again, and Slade explained his theory that this could be a neutral space. He told him how he theorised the reason he found it difficult to talk to anyone about his issues was that he didn't want them to judge him poorly. He reminded the boy that this wasn't the case with himself.

'The same rule applies.' Slade continued. 'Nothing we say leaves this haunt and Robin and the Terminator and everything that goes with them are left at the door.'

Dick thought for a moment. 'Why? Why are you helping me?'

'I knew a boy once. He had similar problems to you. I ignored them, and he tied a noose around his neck. I've never forgiven myself.' Said Slade thoughtfully. 'I won't do that again.'

'Who was it?'

'Tell you what. When you're ready to tell me, what happened to you. I'll tell you who he was.' He held out his hand. 'Do we have a deal?'

Dick stared at the hand for a few seconds.

'You won't drug me?' he said, fear tinging his voice – this kid really didn't like being on medication.

'No,' said Slade. 'But if you try to hurt yourself and I feel I cannot keep you contained, I will sedate you. Understand?'

Dick slowly nodded, looking at the offered hand again. He took it.

'Deal.'

A/N: I've made Slade the villain of my stories many times, I've never really played with the idea of him as a father figure. If you haven't guessed yet, that's kind of where I am going with this. Please review. Karin x