Chapter Three

It amazed him that the two women hadn't managed to kill each other off by the end of their first week together. Slade gave all of the credit to their time-consuming goal, though perhaps a bit of credit should go to Diana's maturity level. After all, she wasn't a hormone-driven teenager like her sister, prone to the bursts of exasperation accompanied by terse little sighs that signaled when Terra was fed up with something. When he bothered to check in on the pair of them, Slade often found Diana doing her very best to remain calm and poised, while Terra threw out the word "Why?" at least once a minute. Now that there were two women (or rather, girls) in his compound, the criminal mastermind was starting to develop a cloying sense of claustrophobia around all of that estrogen. Thank God for Wintergreen, who was equally comfortable functioning as a cook, accountant, and part-time babysitter, and thank God that he could leave the majority of Terra's lessons to her sister, at least for now.

Though calling his young wards "apprentices" helped lend some credulence to the "deranged psychopath with illusions of grandeur" angle he was working, Slade was not a terribly gifted teacher. Even before the Army's harsh chemicals had washed through his system, rewired his brain, and rewrote his thoughts to make him better, stronger, faster, Slade possessed no great understanding as to why the rest of the world couldn't learn as quickly as he did. Luckily Diana was almost a complete package when he'd found her, stretching at the barre, the smirking eyes of Selina Kyle guiding him to her most gifted student. She may not have had a career as a professional ballerina ahead of her, but Diana had a computer science degree and an enthusiasm for krav maga, and he had put both of those things to good use on more than one occasion. Slade spied on her now on the monitors at his control desk, her expressive hand gestures enhancing whatever it was she happened to be saying to Terra as they conversed near Slade's hidden cameras. He had the pair of them on mute as they sat outside, cross-legged on the desert rocks that would become hotter as the morning faded into afternoon. Diana's green eyes were serious; Terra's blue gaze merely bored. Terra didn't have her sister's easy grace. Of course, Slade hadn't hired Diana to waltz around and look pretty. He'd hired her because she wasn't a crude, promising amalgamation of desirable character traits. She was a complete person, and it was only from time to time that he augmented her routine with customized training sessions. Robin had been much the same, though the psychological torture of working for Slade would have eventually driven him insane, which was of course the whole point.

Slade's hands moved swiftly over the black keyboard as he typed a message to Diana. It was time to stop dwelling in the past and mulling over the future. There would be time enough for his brain to turn over the events of the day, but he needed to see what Terra could do in the present. She seemed resistant to many of the techniques Diana had been trying to teach her, especially those involving patience and small, progressive steps. For Terra there was no end in sight. She was impatient and frustrated, easily tired by their training schedule, and apparently didn't see the merit in much of what she was being taught. Insolent girl. There were people, metahumans and normals alike, who would saw a leg off just for a day's worth of his training and direction. Still, he couldn't let his irritation get in the way of accomplishing his goal of breaking the Titans. The suit Diana had stolen a week prior would be an excellent means of tapping Terra's power. He had briefly toyed with the idea of putting Terra in the suit and letting her loose on the city, but only very briefly. It would be best to divide the Titans first, to sabotage them from the inside out. If he could plant Terra amongst them, have her gather intelligence from them…well. He had a long way to go before she was ready for that.

Slade was alone with his thoughts for the short time it took to walk from his control room to the side of the compound where Diana and Terra had previously been meditating. The duo was standing up, Diana casually examining something under her nails while Terra wrung her hands and shifted from foot to foot. He could read their body language all too well. The younger Markov sister was nervous and agitated, and the elder was irritated about something. She only bit her lip like that when she was struggling not to say something, and her cheekbones had an angry red flush that he found unsettling.

"Ladies," Slade began calmly, clasping his hands behind his back, "Let's see if we can put in motion what Terra's learned in the scant week she's been here. Terra, explain to me why meditation is an essential element of your training."

The hot sun beat down on them as Diana's eyes narrowed and Terra stared down at her feet, as if she could pry the answer from the dirt under her shoes. So. He'd hit on what was irking them both. It hadn't been hard to figure it out, of course, considering how predictive Terra was. He didn't expect her to embrace meditation, especially since it involved sitting still and not talking for long periods of time, though he'd hoped she would have stopped arguing with her sister over it by now. But still, Slade kept his tone neutral and attempted to at least feign patience. It wouldn't do to terrify the girl this early.

"Terra? The answer isn't written on the rocks at your feet."

"It's—I mean, y'know, for keeping me grounded and…for control"—

"Exactly. You lack the emotional control to act as a proper channel for your power. You can't stop it from reacting to your emotions, when what you need to do is separate the two. Divide your emotions from your power, and you'll be able to turn it on and off at will, so to speak."

"Right," Terra replied uneasily, her eyes flickering to Diana as the other girl silently moved to stand beside Slade.

"We've been working on basic breathing exercises," Diana said calmly, folding her arms across her chest, "But Terra hasn't been able to clear her mind for any extended work, she keeps getting distracted by outside stimuli."

"It's hot, okay?" she replied, a blush darkening her face, "And it's not my fault that there's bugs and stuff out here"—

"I know it's not your fault," her sister responded, "But you need to focus"—

"I'm trying!" Terra snapped, swiping at the perspiration on her forehead.

"Terra, stop," Slade warned.

He stared at the golden glow already forming at the edge of the girl's fingertips and backed up to give her space. Slade didn't want to see one of her famous meltdowns, but her eyes hadn't started to glow yet so he was still in the clear, at least for the moment.

"Terra, calm down, okay?"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Diana! I don't even know why Slade let's you tell me what to d"—

It all happened at once as the giant boulder exploded into several pieces, one barely missing Slade's head as he ducked and turned, vaulting over another chunk of earth to locate the source of the scream that came from behind it. The dust in the air settled as quickly as it had flown up. Terra was fine, of course she was, gasping and standing off to the side from the boulder's origin, and what he found was Diana on the ground instead, choking for breath as he sank to his knees beside her. Everything around Slade felt deadly calm. His anger buzzed in his head like a steady drone of bees as he knelt beside her, his greatest investment, the one he had poured so many hours and pass codes and instructions into. Diana lay bleeding on the ground, her breathing shallow and quick, and Slade looked up at Terra, wishing she could see the dark look on his face as his eye narrowed to a slit.

"Go," He said, his voice so low and terrible that she started running at the sound of it, "Wait for me to call you."

With Terra fleeing into the compound his anger began subsiding as he sat in the dirt beside the wounded girl, watching her face for signs that she was going into shock. She remained where she was, her features white with pain as she groaned and moved a weak hand to her bloodied thigh. There was a similar, jagged cut down the side of her calf but it wasn't as sickeningly deep as the one higher up on her leg. Slade pressed her hand to his heart as he smoothed away errant strands of hair from her face and she clutched at his shirt, her grip like an iron vice.

"Can you breathe?" He asked flatly, noting the tears that were starting to trickle out of the corners of her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling, "Is anything else injured besides your leg?"

"M-my ribs," Diana croaked, gesturing when he let go of her fingers and shakily pulling up the edge of her shirt, "That's all. Slade it hurts so badly…please. Please."

"I've never heard her beg for anything," Slade silently reflected, scooping Diana up in a swift motion and turning her pleading into a strangled scream.

She never asked for much unless it served his purposes. More equipment, more space, more robots…none of it was for her. So unlike Terra, who was perpetually asking Diana or Wintergreen to suit her needs. It was such a pity that Diana hadn't been gifted with Terra's power. She'd be the perfect little soldier if she had, but he would have to make do with teaching Terra and sending Diana out for the odd robbery here and there. When he walked into the infirmary, holding her as immobile as humanly possible, Slade gently laid out his employee on the operating table, grateful that he couldn't see bone in her bloody leg. If he had they would have been in real trouble, and he'd have made the executive decision to have her driven elsewhere and taken care of by an actual doctor. She wouldn't die on him, he'd never let that happen. He needed her. Slade would never get back the time and effort he'd expended on Diana, and at this stage a replacement was unimaginable.

"You're going to be fine," he stated coldly, drawing a knife out of his utility belt and slitting her shorts, tank top, and sports bra up both sides, "Keep breathing. Let me know if your airway feels restricted."

Slade tossed the dirt-encrusted clothes in the waste bin underneath the stainless steel table and walked to the cabinets that flanked the room, pulling out a small tablet screen and wireless heart monitor leads from one of the drawers. It was without emotion that he placed them on the trembling, half-naked girl and switched on the tablet to monitor her vital signs. She looked as if she might pass out at any moment.

"Keep the stitches small," Diana whispered with a small grin, her voice shaking under the weight of false bravado.

He returned the look under his mask as he plunged a needle into the girl's arm, its contents sending her into a peaceful, painless oblivion.

"I'll keep that in mind," Slade sighed, throwing away the empty syringe as he reached around to undo his mask.

Author's Note: I'm sorry I suck at updates. :( Any reviews/criticism for the revamping of this story is greatly appreciated!