"Rav!"
"Grayson!"
"Dick! Please, you need to get up!"
There was a barrage of noise as his ears continued ringing from the explosion, but he tried to focus on the voices. One was modulated and scared, one was deep and concerned, and the other was feminine and pleading. But unfortunately, the static in his brain wouldn't allow him to identify the owner of each voice.
"Answer me!"
He tried to focus on and pinpoint the voice currently speaking.
"Grayson, I repeat. Answer me! That is an order!"
Slade. The voice belonged to Slade. His suit must have started transmitting again when they left the ship. He opened his eyes but squinted from the pain as he tried to move. His chest hurt, his shoulder, which was already injured, was throbbing now, and his ears rang despite the helmet's sound dampening technology.
Using his good arm, he pushed himself into a seated position and surveyed the scene around him. The series of explosions started by the leaking gas tank had caused significant damage, and the resulting fire had caused the pier to fall into the gulf below, separating him and Jason.
Jason was too busy fighting the guards who'd initially thrown the grenade to notice him, but the other man appeared to be holding his own. With no way to get to the other side, Dick would need to worry about himself for the moment.
"Grayson!" Slade yelled through the comms, bringing his attention back.
"I'm here! And in one piece, I think," Dick replied, taking stock of his appendages.
"What happened?" Slade demanded.
Dick blinked and observed his surroundings again. Down the dock, several men were approaching, armed and ready.
"Uh, too much to explain at the moment. Where are you?"
Slade growled over the commlink, unsatisfied with Dick's lack of information.
"ETA is approximately six minutes. Can you stay alive that long?" Slade asked as a bullet whizzed in Dick's direction.
He rose to his feet and dove behind a nearby shipping container for cover, grunting in pain as his shoulder hit the hard metal. "I'm going to try," Dick said through gritted teeth. "Not looking to die here, personally."
Across the expanse, Jason was watching him now that he'd neutralized the guards on his side. The other man shot him a questioning thumbs up, which Dick returned with his good arm. Jason nodded in acknowledgment before looking for any way he could help.
"What's the plan for when you get here, Slade?" Dick asked.
"You need to go up. We run too much risk of damage if we have to land."
"That is a lot easier said than done," Dick said, scanning the area for any high points. The only potential escape route was a tall crane to the south with its loading jib extending out into the gulf, abandoned while loading containers on a ship.
He spared one last glance in Jason's direction, and the other man was still watching him. Dick had a sense Jason wasn't going to leave until he knew Rav was safe. So, if he wanted to ensure Jason got out of here alive, he needed to get to safety himself.
He peeped around the corner, looking for the guards who'd shot at him earlier. They'd parked and walked in his direction with their guns at the ready. He planted his back firm against the shipping container and took a deep breath. When one of the guards appeared around the corner, Dick gave him a quick punch to the face and a knee to the stomach, rendering the man unconscious. The following two fell quickly as well.
Another glance around the corner showed an empty dock between him and the crane, so he made a run for it. As he neared, he reached for his grappling hook and aimed it toward the crane. When he clicked the trigger, however, nothing happened. He hit the device with the palm of his hand while maintaining his speed, but it was useless. The hook was jammed, most likely damaged in the explosion. With a frustrated grunt, he tossed the hook to the side.
When he reached the crane's base, he tilted his head and groaned at the number of stairs he'd have to climb.
"There he is!"
More guards meant Dick didn't have time for a pity party, so he started climbing the stairs two at a time. He was making good progress when an explosion above his head shook the crane's structure. He covered his head with his good arm as pieces of metal rained down from above. When the shrapnel stopped falling, and the dust settled, Dick spotted the issue. A guard stood below with a grenade launcher and had blown out a portion of the stairs above him. He cursed.
Another explosion and the grating below him gave way, sending him falling. His body hit the landing below, and he grunted as his battered body demanded a reprieve. Dick's back arched in pain as his shoulder threatened to detach itself from his body. He slammed his eyes shut and felt hot tears prick the corners.
"Dick," a voice said in his head. He opened his eyes and glanced right to left, but nobody was there. The voice was familiar. "You need to get up."
A warming sensation overtook his shoulder, causing him to grimace.
"Climb," the voice ordered. Above him, rungs for an emergency escape ladder taunted Dick.
"I can't. My shoulder," Dick weakly replied. He knew he sounded pathetic, but there was no way he could pull up his body weight at the moment.
"I'm healing your shoulder. You can, and you will climb."
"What? How?" Dick asked, confused. He lifted his arm to test his shoulder. The warming sensation was still there, but sure enough, the pain was less.
"Grayson, who are you talking to?" Slade asked.
Dick grunted as he rolled over, placing weight on his shoulder and giddy giggling when it didn't give out underneath him. The voice. It was Raven. How he hadn't realized it earlier, he didn't know, but more aware now, he could feel her on the edge of his mind. But he wasn't about to tell Slade his friend and former teammate knew he was alive and was trying to keep him that way.
"Myself. I'm talking to myself," Dick lied, which Slade responded to with a grunt. "I need all the motivational pep talk I can get right now, and you're not the best cheerleader."
Dick stood and began climbing the ladder, smiling as his shoulder held up. The structure shook again, but he braced himself and waited for it to subside before continuing to rise. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dick was on top of the crane's loading jib. He gathered all his acrobatic training and balanced on the crane's structural members.
In the distance, a black helicopter was speeding in his direction, and hanging out the open door was Slade. If Dick timed it correctly, he'd be able to jump directly from the crane into the helicopter. He waited a few moments, but finally, he took off running, carefully stepping on the metal beams. When Dick reached the last beam, he pushed off with all of his might, and for a moment, he was suspended, soaring. If he closed his eyes, he could easily be back in a circus tent performing or nosediving off a building in Gotham.
One second he was flying through open air, and the next, he was slamming helmet first into Slade's armored chest. Their bodies fell against the far side of the helicopter's interior, and Dick could feel the air leave Slade's body as Dick fell into him.
Realizing he'd made it, Dick started laughing in a crazed manner. He tried to ignore the strong arm tightly gripping his shoulder and the other around his waist. If Dick didn't know any better, he'd think Slade had been worried about him. Slade was pushing him off of him as quickly as the thought came, leaving Dick intermittent chuckling as he lay on the helicopter's fuselage. However, remembering Jason, he scrambled to his feet and peered out the door.
They'd circled back over the dock, and Dick could see Jason opening the driver's side door to one of the abandoned trucks. The red helmet glanced in his direction, and Dick raised his hand in a salute, letting the other man know he was okay. Jason returned the gesture before getting in the vehicle and driving off.
Dick slammed the helicopter door closed, and he could feel Slade watching him.
"You're mad," Dick said, staring at the closed door.
"You got yourself captured," Slade said, anger and disappointment in his voice. Dick closed his eyes and took a deep breath before removing the helmet.
"It wasn't exactly intentional," Dick said, half glancing back. "You didn't warn me about Brother Blood. That would've been useful intel." Now, it was Dick's voice becoming angry. Then, when Slade failed to respond, Dick scoffed. "That's what I thought."
Dick walked toward the front of the helicopter to sit the rest of the ride. He aggressively pushed his shoulder into Slade's as he passed the older man, but Slade ignored his pettiness.
They rode in silence the remainder of the way to Cairo. Dick's gaze stayed fixed on the floor between his boots as he repeatedly replayed the events in Suez. His brain was firing on all cylinders. Raven had contacted him, but why? And if she knew he was alive, would she tell his family? It was evident she hadn't yet, based on his conversation with Jason back on the ship. And Jason.
The logical part of him knew he shouldn't fixate on emotional nonsense right now, but hearing how much Jason missed him. Dick shook his head. There was a ping in his chest from this newfound knowledge. And there was no doubting Slade had seen the Red Hood, which meant he would wonder what they'd talked about on the ship. He'd also have to hope Jason could safely get out of Suez and back to Gotham by himself.
He nervously ran his fingers through his sweat—and maybe some dried blood—crusted hair as the helicopter landed and Slade opened the door. Dick waited a minute before following Slade, so he was surprised when the man was still standing at the door when he emerged.
"Come with me," Slade said without looking at him. Dick furrowed his brow in confusion but didn't argue, following Slade toward the base. Dick tried to keep his gaze centered and focused, but his eyes kept trailing to the middle of Slade's shoulders. He'd known Slade a long time, and Dick was trying to read how angry the other man was based on his body language.
"I brought you here for a reason," Slade started, still walking. "I don't do anything without a purpose, especially not something as annoying as dealing with your whining ass for two years."
Dick threw an angry expression at the back of Slade's head. "I'm sorry I've been such an utter inconvenience to you. I should've been a more gracious hostage, I suppose."
Slade ignored him and tapped a code into the base's keypad.
Slade walked down the hall when the door opened, fully anticipating Dick to follow, which he did. They walked down halls he'd ventured down a thousand times since Dick arrived two years ago. However, eventually, things became less familiar, and Dick realized he'd never been to this part of the base.
Finally, Dick couldn't take it anymore. "Where are we going?" Dick asked, agitated.
Slade stopped on a dime, turning to give him a hooded, annoyed expression. "Will you learn patience?"
Dick's eyes went feral. "Patience?! Patience?!" Dick threw his hands up. "I've waited two years for you to tell me why I'm here! Two years! How is that not patient enough?"
Dick was fuming while Slade stood there expressionless.
"Are you done?" Slade calmly asked.
Dick wasn't done, but he huffed a breath, saying nothing more. He clenched his jaw and fisted his hands at his side. Slade nodded his head to Dick's left, and Dick followed the gesture. To his side, a door had opened, and Dick's mouth hung open at the person in front of him.
"Joey?" Dick asked, shock in his voice. Standing beside him was Joseph Wilson, a.k.a. Jericho, Slade's youngest son and Dick's former Titans teammate, who is dead. Correction. Was dead.
"You're supposed to be dead," Dick flatly said.
Joey signed to him. "So are you."
Dick stood there in utter surprise before an exasperated laugh escaped him. Slade appeared concerned by the reaction, but Dick ignored him, trying to catch his breath again.
"Touche. Touche," Dick said, tiny giggles intermittently sneaking out. "Well, this is a turn of events. Very unexpected." He placed his hands on his hips and observed his old friend. Joey appeared healthy and very much alive. After a moment, he pulled the blonde into a tight hug, which Joey reciprocated.
"How?" Dick asked, directing the question to Slade as he released Joey from the hug and stepped back. "I watched you put a sword through his heart."
Slade's face fell at the comment, and his eyes darted to Joey, then back to Dick. "Joey's revival is complicated to understand but, as you've learned, is related to our mutual enemy, Brother Blood."
Dick tore his eyes off Joey for a second to give Slade a perplexed expression.
"It all ties back to the prophecy," Slade continued. Dick threw his hands up to stop Slade.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dick said. "When you say prophecy and Brother Blood, it sounds like your leading to a Trigon-related event. And if you recall, the Titans kicked that guy's ass and sent him back into whatever hellish dimension he originated from for the rest of eternity."
"No, you didn't," Slade said, his expression flat.
Dick threw Slade an angry, confused look.
"The last time the Titans fought Trigon, your team didn't banish him to another dimension as previously believed," Slade continued, ignoring Dick's expression. "While his physical body was destroyed, his spiritual presence and consciousness, if you can call it that, were not. They still exist on Earth."
"Where?" Dick asked.
Slade gestured toward his son, and Dick shifted his gaze to Joey, whose face was sad. Then, realizing Slade's implication, a frown formed on Dick's face.
"And Joey is not the only one. There are more. And Brother Blood is gathering them all to attempt to bring Trigon back on the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year with the longest night," Slade explained, bringing Dick's attention back to him.
"The winter solstice is only a month or so away," Dick said. He shook his head. "This doesn't explain why I'm here. And why tell me this now? Why not sooner?"
"Brother Blood hasn't been active until now. So it is finally time for us to make our move, and I need your cooperation to succeed. And you're here because it was safer for us all, and I spared your life. You should be grateful."
Dick laughed, tilting his head back in exaggeration. "Saved my life? You ruined my life. Why wouldn't you tell me sooner if you were trying to help me?"
"Because I couldn't risk you telling your little family or your merry band of super friends," Slade said. "We are dealing with a very intricate plan. One that is much more complicated than you understand at this moment."
"Then explain it to me," Dick said, his tone desperate.
Slade stared back at him hard as if debating how much he should tell Dick.
"I've known about Brother Blood's and Trigon's plans for a long time. Years. Ever since Raven brought Joey to me," Slade said.
Raven's voice at the dock rang in Dick's head. "Raven?" Dick asked. "No one has seen or heard from Raven in over five years."
"That's because she is hiding. She is integral to Trigon's return in this second prophecy, just like the original prophecy. She brought Joey to me because she knew I would do anything in my power to keep him safe."
"And I'm here again because?" Dick asked.
Slade sighed with annoyance. "If you would stop interrupting me, I would get to that part."
"Sorry," Dick sheepishly said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He couldn't help himself, though. A million questions were floating through his brain.
"Brother Blood needs Raven, and it is well known she shares a special telekinetic link with a particular former leader of the Titans," Slade said, looking hard at Dick. "Has Raven attempted to contact you since you've been in my care?"
Dick mentally snorted at the use of the word care but shook his head. "No, she hasn't." Slade continued to eye him, gauging if he was lying or not. Dick didn't back down, though, maintaining eye contact with Slade until the other man continued.
"If they'd had you, they would've tortured you until Raven attempted to help you. Once she had contacted you, and through physical contact, Brother Blood would've been able to follow the link back and retrieve Trigon's daughter. Once they'd had her, they would've had everything they needed to succeed," Slade said. "Well, almost everything." Slade glanced at his son. "Not having Raven has left Joey's retrieval as a minimal priority for Brother Blood."
"So why keep me in the dark?" Dick asked. "If you're trying to do the right thing, why not tell me? Helping former Titans and saving the world is kind of my M.O."
"As I am aware, Grayson," Slade sighed. "I couldn't risk telling you because they needed to believe you were dead."
"They?"
"The League. The Justice League and everyone associated with it needed to believe Dick Grayson, a.k.a. Nightwing, was dead," Slade said.
Dick's face fell into confusion again.
"Your precious band of superheroes is compromised. Brother Blood has informants on the inside. I'm not sure if he is using an ancient spell, magic, sorcery, mind control, whatever, but he is controlling high ranking members of the League," Slade said, answering the question he knew Dick wanted to ask.
"I find that extremely hard to believe. What proof do you have?" Dick asked, hands on his hips.
"All I've learned I've only seen and heard with my own eye and ears in secret meetings and alleyway whispers," Slade said. "I have nothing to present to you as hard evidence, which is why I haven't done so."
Dick laughed. "Shock. So you expect me to go along with whatever plan you have based on your word?"
A slight smirk formed on Slade's face. "Of course not." Slade turned and continued down the hall. Joey briefly glanced at Dick before following his father. After a moment of hesitation, Dick followed, too. They didn't go far before they were in a large research room. There was technology and gadgets everywhere with sophisticated equipment throughout the space.
Slade grabbed a device off a table and carried it back toward Dick. Slade reached for the small storage container strapped to Dick's utility belt when he neared. Once unhooked, Slade pulled the plutonium vial out and placed it inside an opened compartment on the weapon before handing the device over to Dick.
Dick looked between the weapon and Slade before accepting the item in his hand.
"You will get the evidence you so desire, and you will willingly help me once you've seen it for yourself," Slade confidently said.
"Where, when, and how?" Dick asked, turning the weapon over in his hand.
"The where? The League itself, of course. The when? Two days. The how? You've got it and the other gadgets at your disposal now," Slade said, gesturing toward several other pieces on the table.
"You want me to break into the Justice League and hack their computers?" Dick asked, astonished. "Are you insane? How do I even get in?"
"As nostalgic as your mentor is, you think he has deactivated your boom tube access to any League bases?" Slade asked. "He kept your access codes active in Gotham, for fuck's sake."
Dick wanted to argue, but Slade was right. "But what if, just what if, Bruce did deactivate my bio scan credentials?"
"Then we will figure out another way, but I don't have cause to believe it will come to that," Slade said.
Dick was overwhelmed with all the new information he'd received. He glanced at all the weapons on the table and realized Slade had been planning this for a while. They'd stolen these blueprints from Bruce himself, the world's most paranoid person, and Dick was staring at the man's contingency items for rogue League members. If Dick's bio scan was still active, he could very well walk into the League's base, incapacitate any threats, steal whatever files Slade wanted, and walk out.
But what if it were a trap? What if he was granting a villain direct access to the League's secure databases?
Two things were plaguing him, though. The first was Joey, who was standing in front of him. Joey, kind-hearted, saint-like Joey, wouldn't help his father if he knew it would hurt people. And then there was Raven contacting him at the docks. Raven had been missing for over five years, causing concern for all her old teammates. What if Slade was telling the truth and Dick had the chance to save two former Titans along with the world.
But Dick still had questions that needed answers.
"What is the prophecy?" Dick finally asked. "What all needs to happen for Brother Blood and Trigon to succeed?"
Slade sighed. It seemed the other man had anticipated the question but was hoping it wouldn't get asked.
"They need each individual Trigon has chosen to possess and Raven to be present together on the solstice," Slade said. "It sounds simple, but there are multiple people that need to be brought together, and some, obviously, do not wish to be found and participate. Once the sun sets on the solstice, Trigon will possess a present body, calling all his separated pieces of his spirit back together into that one individual."
"So Trigon went and pulled a Voldermort?" Dick asked, deep in thought.
Slade stared back at him blankly before rolling his eyes. "If you must equate this to a children's book, then Trigon has formed Horcruxes like Voldermort utilizing only people."
Dick smiled. "I'm thrilled to know you've spent any time reading Harry Potter." Dick's smile faded. "How many people are part of the prophecy? We already know Joey and Raven are involved. Who are the remaining people?"
Slade sighed. "That, you have to get from the League computer. I don't know. But I've heard rumors they've already been captured and are being held by the League. I know nothing more about the prophecy."
Dick pinched his eyebrows together as he followed the cracks in the concrete with his eyes. The last answer didn't satisfy him, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Slade was withholding information.
Dick had one last question. "You said you had heard or seen evidence that some of the Leaguers were compromised. Is Batman one of them?"
Slade shook his head. "I do not know. I've heard that Superman and Wonder Woman are. While I've not heard about Batman specifically, I've assumed that he was compromised, as well. It is why I ensured he was present during your so-called death. I needed him to witness it and report back to the League himself. I knew they would believe him if he believed it."
Dick nodded his head in understanding. He wasn't sure what he could and should believe. So far, the only real known thing he'd heard from Slade was that he did everything with purpose.
There was still a lot that didn't make sense to him, but he had a feeling Slade wasn't going to give anything else away. Dick could do as Slade asked by breaking into the League and stealing their files. Then, he may be able to leave code for Oracle to find or make contact with Raven again. For the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope seeping to the surface.
He'd have to be careful, though. Slade still had Damian's life in his hands, and if the mercenary found out Dick was trying to betray him now, it could've all been for nothing.
Dick nodded. "I'll do it. I'll break in and get the files."
Slade smiled. "I'm glad you decided on your own."
Joey gave him a joyful expression while Dick frowned.
Slade turned to his son. "Joey, will you give us a second?" Joey nervously looked between the two men but nodded before disappearing. Then, when Slade was sure his son was out of earshot, he turned to Dick.
"Joey has been aware of your presence here since day one, but I informed him you two were not to speak for logistical reasons. If he were to speak with you before I was ready for him too, then the mission to save the world would've been a failure," Slade said, inching closer to Dick as he maintained hard eye contact. "My son is not aware of the threat on Damian Wayne's life, and he will not be made aware of it. Is that understood?"
Dick nodded.
"Good," Slade said, patting Dick on the cheek. Dick pulled his lip in a tiny snarl at the motion and wrinkled his nose. "Because you are so willing to retrieve the necessary information from the League, I'll let whatever transpired between you and the Red Hood slide."
Slade dropped his hand.
"Now go get some rest. You'll be singlehandedly taking on the Justice League in less than forty-eight hours," Slade said, smiling. "You may even get to have a little family reunion."
Dick glared at Slade but said nothing as the mercenary left. Dick neared the table when Slade was gone, viewing the devices. Toward the middle of the table was a printed sheet of paper, which Dick picked up and began reading. It was a list—Bruce's List—of League members and their associated weaknesses.
Superman - kryptonite, Martian Manhunter - fire, and on and on. Dick's eyes stopped hard at the last name, two sheets back, added in with delicate handwriting. In tiny font, Slade had added 'Batman—known weakness, Richard John Grayson.'
Dick knew there was no device for Batman on the table because there didn't need to be. Slade had him.
