Epilogue II

"Hmmm, broken nose, fractured orbital bone of the left eye, a nice chunk of flesh taken out of his mid-section, and a severe stab wound to the right chest, through two ribs and a lung. The guys lucky to be alive, you sure your kid did this?"

"Yes, and he isn't 'my kid'."

Slade had asked for light, and plenty of it, so of course his room was dark. They say that in space, no one can hear you scream, what they don't tell you is that most of the time they really don't care, either. Sure the League had patched Slade right up, minus the anaesthetic, of course. As far as they were concerned whatever help they gave him was better than he deserved.

Presently, League members J'onn, resident organizer of the JLA (and, in a pinch, physician) Wally West AKA The Flash, and Batman stood over his battered, bruised and bandaged form.

"Well, he might as well be your kid, the way he acts."

"Flash, I don't refer to Bart as 'your kid', don't refer to Dick as mine."

"Hey now, Bart just got the call to join the Teen Titans, I'd be proud to call him my kid. He's already Kid Flash, after all." This elicited a small, choked laugh from Slade, who was conscious and listening to everything.

"Good...another head for the butchers block..." he croaked. The Flash raised a fist and started towards him but Batman caught him by the wrist.

"He won't ever get that chance, don't worry."

They continued to stare down at Robin's handiwork, and couldn't help but be impressed. Not at the damage the boy inflicted (though some would claim that that was certainly worthy of praise), but rather the restraint shown. In this condition, Slade would have been easy pickings for someone to just up and kill, and yet Robin had walked away. Even after all the crap Slade had put him through, he just hauled himself and his broken arm to the nearest hospital and never looked back.

"So what are we gonna do with the piece o'scum?" Wally pointed his thumb towards Slade. "I don't want him ever messing with the Titans again."

"Since when are you so passionate about what they do?" J'onn enquired.

"Well, we did fight along side them not too long ago. They're a good group of kids, they deserve better than what this putz gave them."

"So what are you going to do with me? Prison? Don't make me laugh..." Slade said, slurring some of the words and making little coughing noises the whole way through.

"Don't worry, I have a special place for you," Batman said through a grin he couldn't keep back. Slade's one good eye darted between the three people standing around him. Oh, how he wanted to leap off of the bed and beat them all to a bloody pulp, but the pain was simply too much (That little boy packed a punch, he'd have to remember that for next time), and they'd restrained his arms and legs. Cowards.

"Where you putting him? That new prison in the Antarctic? What do they call it, the Block?" Flash asked.

"The Slab. No, that's too good for him." Batman replied.

"I would like to point out, that at this point hell would be too good for him." J'onn quipped. Flash and Batman nodded in agreement, for of course J'onn was right. Hell was too good.

"Yes, well, there's a next best thing to hell, right here on earth." Batman replied. Flash looked confused, which could be understood.

"Where? Coast City?" Batman and J'onn wheeled round and stared down Flash, there was anger in their eyes.

"What? Too soon?"

There was silence for a moment, while Batman composed himself.

Coast City...jerk...

"No, actually I've got a place even better than that."

"Better than a nuclear wasteland...this should be good." J'onn said, still in quip mode, it would seem.

"So where then? The suspense is killing me."

"Arkham Asylum. I heard a few weeks ago that the Joker needs a new cellmate." Slade's eye widened and glistened in the low light of the room.

"The Joker? Nice!" The Flash said approvingly.

"What happened to his last cellmate?" J'onn asked.

"Insane, just like the last three before that. Seems Joker knows just what buttons to push." Batman walked to Slade's side and bent over, so their noses nearly touched. "You two should get along famously." Slade started to struggle against his restraints, shaking the bed violently.

"Let me go! I demand to be released immediately!"

"Tell it to the guy with green hair, dirtbag." Flash said, turning and walking out of the room.

"No! No, this is not fair!" Slade was yelling, with madness pervading over his voice. He thrashed against the restraints that held him.

"Why don't you think of what's fair the next time you aim a gun at a child. You deserve to die, consider yourself lucky, Slade." Batman growled, and swept out of the room, his cape trailing behind him. J'onn followed Batman out of the room without a word, quip mode was apparently over.

"No! Don't leave me here! Don't!" The door slowly slid closed leaving Slade in the pitch dark of the out of the way room in Justice League headquarters. They could hear his screams and pleads three floors up, and they continued for at least two hours. Everyone there knew who he was, though, everyone knew his crimes, and soon they all knew of his punishment. And though no one ever spoke of him, not in large groups or through gossip, anyway, they all thought the same thing.

Life, him living, his continued existence, it was too damn good for him.