Bruce felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't believe what he had just watched. Dick, his son, his child, had walked to the edge of the platform and then gone to take a step further, into the path of the oncoming train.

But he had been stopped, someone had dragged him from the edge and Bruce could do nothing but watch as the dark figure held his son face down against the tiled floor, pinning one of his arms behind his back. He could only watch as Dick screamed and fought against the man. His glasses had fallen from his face and there were tears streaming from his eyes. Suddenly, his mouth opened in a gasp. Bruce had seen this expression before, in the midst's of a panic attack, Dick was struggling for air.

Gripping the edges of his seat, Bruce watched as Dick's struggles became weaker until finally, they stopped, and he passed out. The man loosened his grip and rolled the unconscious boy onto his back, checked his pulse and sat back on his heels. There were a few moments, where the man seemed to be considering what to do next. Finally, he shifted to a more secure footing and lifted the boy easily into his arms. Dick's head hung back limply.

Once he had the boy secured in his arms, the man turned to leave. Bruce wasn't prepared for the face that appeared on the camera.

Deathstroke the Terminator carried his son from the subway and out of sight.

When Beast Boy had tracked down Robin's motorcycle, Batman had hoped he would be able to track Robin's location to somewhere in the city. A naive part of him had believed that he would find Dick sat on a rooftop somewhere brooding, just like he used to do in Gotham when he was younger. Whenever Dick had a bad day, Bruce knew he would find him next to his favourite gargoyle in the city. But that had been a childish hope. This was the reality of Dick's current mental state. This was no longer a question of whether Dick was willing to save himself. Now he was actively attempting to destroy himself.

It was a strange position to be in; not knowing whether to thank the man for saving his son's life or track him down and beat Dick's location out of him.

Bruce's eyes flicked down to his phone as it buzzed on the table beside him. The glowing screen showed a picture of Dick smiling at the camera with the caller ID showing "Dick".

He grabbed the phone and held it to his ear.

'Dick, where are you? Are you alright?' He could hear the frantic tone in his voice, but after what he had just seen he couldn't hide his concern.

'Mr Wayne. I think we need to talk.' Said a deep voice that most certainly did not belong to his son.

'Deathstroke.' Bruce growled.

'I take it you have seen the footage from the subway then?' said the man.'

'Where is my son?' Bruce demanded.

'He's perfectly safe.'

'Where is he?' Bruce's voice had lowered to a threatening tone.

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone. 'I assure you, he is fine. Physically.' There was a pause. 'If you know he is with me then you must also know what he tried to do.'

Bruce didn't know how to answer, so he simply grunted.

'He's not well, Mr Wayne.' The Terminators voice was soft, unthreatening. It threw Bruce off slightly. In all the other times he had encountered this man, generally, to stop him completing a job, the mercenaries voice was hard.

'Bring him home.' Said Bruce, a little softer.

'I've tried. He refuses to go back to Gotham or even back to the Titans. I thought being with me was likely preferable to leaving him alone.'

Bruce hated it, but he agreed with this logic.

'Where are you? I will collect him myself.'

There was another pause. 'I can't let you do that, Mr Wayne.'

The Terminator kept referring to him as Mr Wayne. It wasn't a shock to discover that the man knew his identity. He had long suspected this. But it took Bruce a moment to realise the man was trying to be respectful. He wasn't talking to Batman, he was addressing him as Dick's concerned father.

'Why not?'

'As I said, he doesn't want to go home. I've had some experience with cases such as your sons. I think at this point he needs space and time to heal.'

'We've tried that, and it ended with him stepping in front of a train.' Bruce growled.

'I understand your concern. And I know this is going to be hard to believe. But I think I can help him.'

'You have got to be kidding me.' Said Bruce, was this man seriously suggesting that he leave Dick in his care? 'You have no idea what my son has been through, or what he needs.'

'Actually, I do.' The certainty in Slade's voice stopped Bruce from reacting. 'I know the signs of sexual assault and I have dealt with individuals, around Dick's age, dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts.'

Bruce was speechless. Dick never spoke about what had happened to him. Never. Not since Robin had taken down Bane at the bogus wedding, had the boy specifically mentioned what had happened to him.

'He told you?'

'He didn't have to. But yes, he has given me some details after he realised, I knew.'

It took a lot of effort for Bruce not to react negatively to this statement. Dick had never confided in him about the attack, he only knew the basics. He knew Bane had held him captive in his room for three days, he knew he had forced himself upon the boy. But he didn't know specifics. He didn't know what had happened, what Dick had been forced to endure. It was something his son had refused to talk about. And selfishly, he hadn't wanted to know all the details. Simply knowing that he hadn't been able to save his child was torture enough.

'Where is he now?' Bruce said quietly, but the threatening tone to his voice was completely gone.

'He is working on his school work. He has been asleep most of the day, so I'll get him in the gym this evening.' The tone in which Slade said this was so conversational that for a brief moment Bruce almost forgot who he was talking to.

'How is he?'

'A lot calmer than he was last night.' Said Slade.

Bruce leant back in his seat, running a hand down his face. There was stubble on his jaw from all the long hours he had spent searching for Richard.

'Why are you helping him?'

'Pushing our grievances aside, he is just a boy. A boy who has been through something inexcusable…you are not the only one with children, Mr Wayne. Most of us draw the line at harming a child, even one as capable and strong as Robin.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'How do I know you are telling the truth?'

Slade sighed at the man's words and walked over to the bedroom door, knocking briefly before entering. Dick was sat on the bed, his back against the wall with his knees drawn up and the laptop resting against his thigh's, inches from his face.

'Your father would like a word, to make sure you are alright.' He said. The tone of his voice was not menacing, but it told Dick that in this instance, he didn't have a choice. The boy took the phone and held it to his ear.

'Dick?' Bruce's voice almost brought tears to his eyes, but he swallowed them back along with the shame that wanted to wash over him.

'Dick, are you alright?'

'Yes.' Dick breathed.

'You're not hurt?'

'No.'

'Dick, do you know who this man is?'

Dick looked up at the man who had pulled him away from the train, who had saved him from a terrible mistake.

'Yes.'

'Just say the word Dick and I will come and get you.'

Dick knew Bruce was asking him to use their code word. It was a code they had thought up years ago, should either of them be held at gunpoint and forced to call home. If they were in trouble all they had to say was "I've been thinking about our holiday to Hawaii, we should go again soon." And the other would know they were in trouble. That was what Bruce was waiting for now, some sign that Dick was in trouble and needed saving. But Dick didn't need saving…not this time.

'No, I'm fine.'

Dick heard his father let out a frustrated puff of air through his nose.

'Please Dick, come home.'

Dick closed his eyes and bit his lip. Slade watched him from the doorway; it had been a long time since he had seen someone look so lost.

'Dick? Are you there?'

'I can't.' Dick's voice was little more than a whisper. 'I don't trust myself.'

'That's ok. Just come home and we can work through this.'

'No, you'll put me back on those pills.' He pressed his fist against his right eye. 'I don't want to feel like that again.'

'But you want to feel like you do now?'

'No, I just need some time to work it out.'

'Dick, I don't trust this man.'

'I know.' He looked over at Slade. 'But I do.'

'Richard, he is a mercenary!' Bruce sounded exasperated.

'And he saved my life.'

'Dick, please.'

'I'm sorry.' Dick held the phone back to Slade who took it whilst keeping his one good eye focused on the boy.

'Mr Wayne?'

Dick kept his focus on his hands, listening to Slade's one-sided conversation and feeling his stare.

'I have no doubt that that would be in your power, but I assure you I meant it when I said I am pushing our own grievances to the side… I am not keeping your son here against his will. He can leave any time he wants…. yes, he will have his phone, so he can contact you at any time.' There was a pause and a surprise looked flashed across Slade's face momentarily. 'I will keep that in mind. Good day.'

'What did he say? Dick asked as Slade handed him back his phone, as he had just promised Bruce.

'He relented. He told me to tell you that the phone call rules of your deal still apply.'

Dick raised his eyebrow. 'What else did he say? What do you need to keep in mind?'

'The fact that you used to hide your razor blades in the back of your phone case.' The man crossed his arms and nodded towards the device in Dick's hands.

Dick sighed and pulled the case from the phone, showing that there were no sharp objects hidden there.

'Good.' Said Slade, heading to leave the room. 'I don't know the full extent of your fathers' rules, but mine is simple. Do not lie to me. I appreciate how much trust you are putting in me, and I promise you I will do my best to help you and I will not lie to you. But I expect the same respect in return.'

Dick nodded. 'Yes, Sir.' The Sir had just slipped out. It was what he always said to Bruce or Alfred when he was being reprimanded and asked if he understood.

'Good. Now finish whatever you're working on. We're going for a run.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Bruce just stared at the phone after it hung up. What had just happened?

'You alright Bats?' it was Superman.

'Call off the search.' Batman said quietly.

'Why? Did you find him?'

'Yes, he's safe.'

'Thank god!' said Clark, 'Where is he?'

'He's with Slade Wilson.' Batman said, his voice flat.

'Wait, Slade Wilson as in Death Stroke the Terminator? That Slade Wilson?'

Batman's silence told him he was correct. Bruce briefly explained the situation and Clark listened, but his face grew ever more concerned.

'And you trust that he isn't going to hurt him?'

'I don't trust the man and I don't agree with his line of work…but he seemed to genuinely want to help Dick and he did save him from stepping in front of the train.'

'So, you're just going to leave him?'

'No, I'm going to track him down but for the moment, I have no choice but to trust that Dick can take care of himself.'

A/N: It feels weird writing Slade as a semi-good guy. But I kind of want to show that everyone has two sides to them and everyone has a past that shapes their decisions. I hope my characterisation turns out alright. Let me know what you think in the reviews - Karin x