He hated English. When he had first gone to live with Bruce, he had been able to speak it. But until that point in his life it hadn't been a language he had used much. He spoke Romani with his parents and mostly French with the other members of the circus. English was a tricky language. Nothing really made sense, there were so many rules to follow, but then so many words that broke those rules. He had lived in America for a little over half his life, he had speaking English down to a fine art, to the point you could only really hear his accent when you listened for it. But writing the damn language was another matter.

Dick glared at the laptop he was working on. He was currently writing an essay, or rather, was trying to write an essay. The words wouldn't come. He had never been very good at expressing himself in English. It was one of the reasons he and Bruce got on so well; not only could the man speak so many other languages, but they rarely even needed to talk to be able to communicate with each other. That was why Bruce knew him so well.

Correction. Used to know him.

Dick sighed at the thought and tried to concentrate on his work again. He was meant to be writing a descriptive piece about a photo at the top of the assignment. It was a picture of Adolf Hitler, walking hand and hand through a garden with a little girl. The point of the assignment was to describe how the image made you feel. Dick found the image disturbing, but he couldn't express why. It made his skin crawl and his teeth grind, but the motivation behind these bodily reactions was unknown. He couldn't bring it to words.

With a sigh, Dick shut the laptop and carried it towards the door. As his hand rested on the door handle, he realised Slade was talking. Then there was a pause and Slade spoke again. He was probably on the phone, Dick thought, opening the door and heading down the short corridor to the kitchen space. He could still hear Slade talking, but figured he would sit and wait for the man to finish his conversation. He knew the man wouldn't mind. When he had to take calls which he didn't want Dick to hear, he always went outside. The fact he was stood in the kitchen meant he didn't mind if he was overheard.

But as Dick rounded the corner, he stopped in surprise. Slade was not on the phone, there was someone else in the room with him. They both stopped and looked at him as he entered.

The newcomer looked to Slade and used his hands to sign.

Is this him?

Slade looked agitated. 'Yes, this is Dick. Dick, this is Joey. My son.'

Joey was a young man of around 21, his blonde hair was cut short against his head and his eyes were the same piercing grey as his fathers. But unlike Slade, Joey had a kind face. He waved at Dick and the younger awkwardly waved back.

'Hi.' Dick said, shifting from one foot to the other.

I thought you said he was sixteen? He's tiny – Joey signed.

'I am sixteen.' Dick huffed. Both men looked at him in surprise.

'You understand sign language?' said Slade, he was impressed.

'Of course, it comes in handy when you don't want to be heard.' Dick looked over at the blonde, he wondered why Joey was using it. Was he deaf?

Almost as though reading his mind, Joey smiled and pulled down his turtle neck to reveal a brutal but old scar across his neck.

Had my throat slit when I was a kid. Completely mute – He explained.

Dick couldn't help the look of shock that spread over his face upon seeing the scar. But he relaxed a little when he saw the grin on Joey's face; he also saw Slade roll his eyes.

'What is the point of wearing high collars, if you're going to show it off anyway?' he asked with a fake sternness.

Joey shrugged. What? The kid was curious, I could tell – He signed, grinning his friendly smile towards the younger.

'Joseph picked up on the fact the base was active. Decided to see what was going on.' Slade explained, not trying to hide the fact he wasn't happy about his son's appearance. 'But I'll admit you've arrived at an opportune time. I need to go out to meet someone, I can't leave Dick alone.'

Joey gave the older man a look of curiosity. Dick gave him a look of horror.

'You're leaving?' He asked.

'I won't be long.' Slade frowned, he could see the panic in the boys' body language. His shoulders had tensed, his eyes wild and his grip on the laptop had turned his knuckles white. 'Dick?'

'Please, don't leave me here.' The boy said quietly.

'I won't be long Dick, but I'm afraid it's important and I can't take you with me.' Slade said with a kindness that made Joey raise his eyebrows. 'Explain to me what's wrong Dick.' Slade guided the boy to a chair, he could already see the panic attack was building.

Dick mumbled something whilst looking down at the floor.

'What?' said Slade.

'Bruce left me,' Dick said a little louder. 'with him.'

The puzzle piece fits into place and Slade understood. And as much as he hated seeing Dick this afraid, he was glad of the reaction. When he had first met the boy, Dick had cared so little about his life he had turned his back on him, despite Deathstroke being a known enemy. Although it was evident, Dick's anxiety was great, the fact that it was there meant he was feeling emotion. He was no longer numb.

Crouched on his knees in front of the teenager, Slade went into full parenting mode, just as he had once done with his boys.

'Dick look at me.'

After a moment's hesitation, Dick's watery but still brilliant blue eyes looked up at him under his eyelashes.

'Dick, I would never leave you alone with anyone who I thought could hurt you. Now, I trust Joey with my life. I promise it's all going to be okay.'

Dick watched the man's face as he said each word. They sounded so sincere and when he glanced over at Joey, the young man's kind smile made his nerves settle. He nodded, and Slade squeezed his shoulder gently, both of them noting silently how Dick hadn't flinched.

'Did you need something?' Slade asked as he stood up. He pointed to the laptop.

'Oh,' said Dick, looking embarrassed. 'I'm stuck on an assignment.'

'Subject?'

'English.' Dick explained the assignment and Slade looked blank. He turned to his son.

'I think this is more your area, you're good with words.'

Joey shrugged but went and sat at the table next to Dick. The younger tensed slightly as the newcomer sat down. Joey noticed this, and so didn't get any closer to him, but he didn't move away either.

Show me the picture – He signed.

Dick opened the laptop and showed the other man the assignment. Joey considered the photo and read the instructions for himself, he then turned his whole body to look at Dick.

So? How does it make you feel?

'I don't know.' Dick practically whined. 'Well, I do. I just don't know how to describe it. English is just so…inexpressive.'

Joey frowned at the boy. I disagree, English can be very expressive.

'I've never been able to do it very well.' Dick shrugged. 'Most other languages, I'm fine. But I think I learnt English in too much of a rush to really appreciate it.' After his parent's death, he had spent a few months in a detention centre while Bruce fought to push the adoption paperwork through. He had needed to learn English quickly in order to survive. To this day, there were aspects of the language he struggled with.

So, sign it?'

Dick gave Joey a look of surprise, his eyebrows raising. He hadn't thought of doing that. He thought about it for a few moments and then moved his hands in slow but confident motions.

It's too normal. – Dick signed.

Why?

He's… - Dick paused and thought about what he wanted to say. – Human. Just human. It's uncomfortable.

Joey slowly nodded, showing that he got what Dick was trying to say. He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees and his chin against his knuckles. In this posture, he reminded Dick a lot of Slade. After a few minutes of thought, Joey's hands began to move again.

Maybe, it's uncomfortable because it's too relatable. You know who this man is, you know what he did – we call him a monster. But, despite everything he did, he was human. He was a man who thought he was doing what was best.

Dick's blue eyes followed the hand movements and pursed his lips. Joey had hit the nail on the head. To see someone the world considered as evil, holding hands with a child – an embodiment of innocence. It looked wrong. But at the end of the day, Hitler was just a man. He wasn't a creature of darkness.

By calling him a monster, we can separate ourselves from what he did. But in reality…

'We're all human. We are all capable of doing evil.' Said Dick. He frowned and looked down at his hands. He had done the same with Bane. He had considered the man a monster, turned him into a creature of evil. But in truth, Bane was just a man. So, what separated him from Dick himself?

'Our choices.' Dick answered aloud. 'Our choices are what define us. The picture, it shows that we all have the potential to be either good or evil. It is our choices that create us.'

Joey smiled – Now, that was pretty expressive. He pulled his chair a little closer to Dick's and together they pieced together how to put the answer down on paper.

Slade watched them work. He watched as Dick's posture relaxed around Joseph until the boy had completely dropped his walls. He knew Dick would get on with Joey. Most people did. Unlike himself and Grant, Joey was a gentle soul. He lived for poetry and music and he loved people. Had it not been for Deathstroke, Joey probably would have lived a beautifully normal life. But just like Dick, that option had been stripped away from him in a single blood-filled night.

Deciding that the two boys would be fine. Slade slipped out of the base. He had a meeting to get too.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

'I did wonder whether you would bring the cowl.' Slade quipped as he approached the man in the shadows who was leant against his car.

'I wondered the same about your mask.' Bruce said curtly. 'Thank you for meeting me.'

'Thank you for not bringing Batman.'

When Bruce had asked him to meet, Slade had to admit he had been apprehensive. All of his past experiences had screamed at him that it was a trap. But for Dick's sake, he had ignored his instincts.

'Where's Dick?' Bruce asked, but with none of the animosity that had been in his voice the last time he had asked that question.

'He's with my son.' Slade answered truthfully.

'I heard about your eldest.' Bruce said gently. 'I'm sorry.'

Slade shrugged, despite the stabbing pain in his heart. 'Nothing that can be done now.' He said.

'But there is something to be done for Dick?'

'I think so, yes.'

'I've seen his school reports. How did you get him to complete them so well?' Bruce asked, genuinely curious.

'I found the best tactic with your son is blunt honesty.' Slade said with another shrug. 'What grade did he get?'

'Straight A's.' said Bruce, a hint of pride in his voice. 'He hasn't done that since…well, since before it all happened.' Bruce's forehead creased into a frown. This all felt so wrong, to be stood here in the dark of the night with a man he had spent the best part of a decade fighting. But this man was getting through to Dick in a way he hadn't been able to. For Dick's well-being, he knew he had to put his feelings aside.

'I will admit I am conflicted about whether to trust you.' He admitted.

Slade nodded, understanding and accepting the other man's feelings. But he reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a phone. He typed on the glowing surface for a few moments and then showed the phone to Bruce. On the screen was a video of Dick. The boy was clinging to a rock face, reaching out for his next ledge, but he couldn't quite reach.

'I can't.' Dick's voice resonated from the phone.

'Yes, you can. Have a little faith in yourself boy.' The next voice, Bruce recognised as Slade's.

After a moment's hesitation, Dick jumped for the ledge, grasped it and pulled himself higher up the cliff.

'There you go!'

Bruce watched the footage as Dick looked down with a small smile on his face. It wasn't as bright as it had once been, but it was the first smile Bruce had seen on his son's face in nearly a year.

'I meant what I said, Mr Wayne.' Said Slade, putting the phone back in his pocket. 'To put our grievances aside. I want to help Richard. If you will let me?'

Looking the man in the eye, Bruce saw the sincerity behind his words. He hoped he wouldn't live to regret it. But he decided he was going to trust Slade Wilson.

'What do you think he needs?'

'Time. He is clearly traumatised by what happened. We just need to work through his fear. One step at a time. Just as we did with his sleep paralysis and his school work.'

'You sound certain.'

'I've had training. After what happened to Grant, I wanted to be more prepared.'

Bruce sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

'I thought I was doing what was best for him when I put him on medication. But it seems to have just aggravated the problem further down the line.' He confided. 'Dick is so angry with me. He has every reason to be, I let him down. But it doesn't make it any easier.'

Slade made a mental note of this. He had picked up on some of Dick's hostility towards his adopted father. This was something that would need to be addressed later on. But for now, he reassured the other man that, with time, his son would recover.

'Please keep me updated.' Bruce said before they parted ways the man behind the Batman turned back to the mercenary. 'And Wilson…thank you.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was late by the time Slade let himself back into the base. After leaving Bruce Wayne, he had spent a few hours making sure he was not followed back to the haunt. As he entered the underground living space, he found it empty. The laptop Dick used for his school work was on the table in the kitchen and there were plates drying by the sink. The only light source in the living quarters was coming from under the bedroom door.

Slade quietly headed towards the door and gently eased it open.

Joey was led on his bed, a book in his hands. He looked up over the pages as the older man entered. The young man quickly raised a finger to his silent lips and then pointed to the other bed.
Slade followed his gaze and saw Dick curled up and deep in sleep. He had his back pressed against the far wall and his arms curled around himself, which told Slade that the boy didn't completely trust Joey. But the fact he was asleep told him, he was comfortable and unafraid.

Joey carefully lifted himself from Slade's bed and followed his father out of the room.

Interesting kid – Joey signed. He went a bit quiet after he realised you were gone. But he was alright after a while. Didn't want to be alone though. He only agreed to go to bed when I said I'd sit and read in the same room.

'Yes, Dick is a troubled young boy.' Slade mused.

Clearly. Why didn't you want to leave him here alone? – It was something that had been playing on Joey's mind all evening. Dick was clearly not a prisoner or a captive. Yet, his father didn't trust him to be in the base without another person present.

'Dick's mind is fragile. A few weeks ago, he tried to end his own life.'

Joey's face dropped.

Is that why he's here? – The young man signed, his hands a little tenser than they had been. It's not going to bring Grant back, Dad.

'I know that. But I wasn't able to help Grant, just like Dick's father hasn't been able to help him. This time, I know what I am facing.'

Joey glared at him for a moment but then sighed.

I can't even be angry at you – He signed. He wanted to be angry, just as he had been angry when Grant had first taken his life. He had blamed Slade for so long. But I can't because Dick is such a great kid. The thought of him hurting himself makes me feel sick.

Slade reached forward and gripped his son's shoulder. Hoping to convey the message, that he too felt the same.

'It's late. Stay here and get some sleep.' He nodded his head in the direction of the bedroom. 'Dick suffers from sleep paralysis too. Can you handle him if he wakes up?'

Joey nodded, suppressing a yawn. After ten years of facing my own sleep demons, I have it down to a fine art. Night Dad.

Joey let himself back into the room and climbed into his father's bed. He looked over at the sleeping teen. Dick was still deep in sleep, but there was a slight grimace on his brow. His dreams not completely pleasant. With a final sigh, Joey switched off the light and finally fell into slumber.

A/N: It is so weird writing Joey again. If you've read my story 'Jericho', you'll understand why lol! But, Dick and Joey's relationship will not be like that in this story. if you've never read Jericho, the don't worry :) - Hope you enjoyed this chapter - please review. Karin x