Chapter 3, Version 2

Her head hurt. It was the first thing she became aware of as she gained consciousness. When Slade had slammed her into the door frame, her head had made contact first. She knew that whatever bruising from the previous night would be nothing compared to what must be forming now.

The second thing she became aware of was the sound of voices. Two loud male voices. She opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. As bad as her head hurt with her eyes closed, it was worse with them open.

"She doesn't want you!"

Bruce. She recognized his voice from anywhere. Prepared for the pain this time, she opened her eyes. Bruce stood near the door to her apartment, though the door was closed. His blue eyes glared at Slade, who was standing next to Rachel.

It wasn't until Rachel looked at Slade that she realized she was bound to a chair in the middle of her living room apartment. She tried to shift in the chair, but whatever was holding her was too tight and she could barely breath, let alone move.

"I won't give her up!" growled Slade. Rachel looked at Slade. With the exception of the missing mask, he was dressed as Deathstroke. In his right hand, he held a gun and it was pointed at Bruce.

"Stop!" Both men stiffened, though neither looked at her, when she spoke. "Slade, put the gun down and let's talk."

"I won't share you with him," Slade growled. While he responded to her words, he refused to put the gun down or look at her.

"It doesn't matter what you want," replied Bruce. The dark haired man took a step toward the older man.

"Bruce, stop," said Rachel.

She looked at her former mentor, hoping he understood that him talking to Slade right now would only makes things worse. He glanced at Rachel, but almost immediately shifted his attention back to the white haired man.

"You need to leave her alone," said Bruce.

"You can't stop me," replied Slade.

"Slade, please, let me explain," said Rachel. She tried to keep her words calm and her tone soft.

"So, it's him you want," snapped Slade. He turned to look at her and the gun shifted. Instead of it being pointed at Bruce, it was now aimed at her head. "Is that why you didn't want me last night?"

"I don't want Bruce," she replied. She kept her tone soft, though she was completely aware of the gun pointed at her head.

"You were with him this morning," growled Slade. "Don't tell me you don't want him!"

"I saw Bruce this morning," agreed Rachel.

"So you admit it!" replied Slade. He swung the gun away from Rachel's head and pointed it at Bruce.

"Slade," said Rachel. "I wasn't with Bruce like you're thinking. I went to speak with him."

"She told me how you raped her last night," growled Bruce. The dark haired man took another step, even with the gun pointed at him.

"I didn't rape her!" shouted Slade. He took a step toward Bruce and away from Rachel's chair.

"She said no and you didn't stop," replied Bruce.

"Bruce! Slade! Stop!" said Rachel.

But it was like the two men couldn't hear Rachel. They each took a step toward the other. Bruce raised his fist to strike Slade, but the white haired man pulled the trigger. The bullet exploded out of the gun and into Bruce. As the dark haired man fell, Rachel screamed...

…..Dick jerked awake. Sweat dripped down his face and into his eyes. He raised his right hand and rubbed at his face before he looked to the nightstand. The clock read 5AM. He had only been asleep for an hour. Dropping his hand, he looked around the bedroom.

The blankets were hanging off the side of the bed, most likely kicked there by Dick while he was dreaming. The sky was still dark. Sun rise was still over an hour away.

The dark haired man swung his legs from the bed and sat up. He was dressed only in a pair of lounge pants that he had thrown on after changing out of the Nightwing suit. With a heavy sigh, Dick stood up and made his way out of the bedroom.

The kitchen and living room were a combination room, with only a change in flooring to distinguish the two rooms from each other. He walked over to the fridge and opened it up. In the light, he saw a carton of milk. He grabbed the milk and, forgoing a glass, opened the container and drank from the carton. He swallowed, closed the milk, and put it back into the fridge.

His eyes fell onto the leftovers from dinner. He had tried a new take-out and wondered if the food was the cause of the weird dream that had plagued him that night. He grabbed the take-out container and turned to the trash can. He opened the lid and dumped the food and container into the trash.

"If that food causes those kinds of dreams, no thank you!" said Dick, as he closed the lid to the trash.

Dick walked away from the fridge and over to the couch. He dropped himself down and grabbed a remote. Holding the remote in his hand, the dark haired man didn't turn on the television. Instead, in his mind, he went over the dream.

It was weird to think of himself as a woman, but what really threw him was dreaming about being in a relationship with Slade! The dark haired man could feel a blush staining his cheeks. Dick had never been interested in another man, so it was a little weird to think about being with that man. Dick could only hope that Deathstroke stayed away from Blüdhaven, until the dark haired hero could forget all about the dream.

Dick's head fell back against the top of the couch and he closed his eyes. He emptied his mind of thoughts regarding the dream and slowed his breathing. A moment later, a dreamless sleep claimed him.

THE END