Nightwing; A Series of Doubts – Give and Take –

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Chapter 12: Palm of My Hand

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Noted; Dick's going to throw the punch at Bruce – at his own gala, but is Batman ever the detective to figure the fake from the genuine article? What is Slade planning within his underground network? Find out! Warning for a few red flags so know it is part of the story – Dick won't be Nightwing until he turns one more year! Slade is a very good tactician, but can he keep it in his pants?? This is dark, but know Slade's going to end up hit in the face by the bat sooner or later for not staying on his best behavior. Warning of Alcohol use, molestation, and drunkenness- nonconsensual. Did I say that twice…. oh! Don't say I didn't warn you…. Also, later character death and self-harm in next chapter.

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Dick was eating crumbs, but nonetheless, still taking something from Slade's subliminal trust exercises.

~ Trust only, me. ~ He looked from the mirror where he'd installed such a pretty, undetected bit of tech.

His equally pretty performer was enjoying a little work out in the living room, while a part of Slade hungered to go another round with his well - trained spectacle; his perfect little hero…tight ass in those sweats and all, the one that would grant his every wish once he was broken in. Slade took another glance.

He'd not even broken a sweat, huh. Well, the bot would do for an even sweeter impersonation. It was using data of Grayson's every bit of his stored, personal quirks and desires to literally step into the role without being asked twice. Slade liked this game, because he knew in the long run, he'd finally be passed that torch and the barer to bring to his Mount Olympus here in Bludhaven. (Greek myth, Slade is comparing his scenario with Zeus's hot-blooded nature.)

Home sweet haunt… now.

"How is the production crew handling our stock?" Slade spoke through a unit by his side, lazily watching the boy do his dance as he thought up more ways to cross those pretty blues.

~ We had a bit of a bat problem, sir. ~

Slade stiffened, lifting his legs to cross one over the main right.

"See to it that he stays on his perch. I don't want a single speck of dust left behind. If he fights, dispose of the contraband and product material." The man snarled lastly. "ALL of it."

/

"Dickie's on the guest list and he RSVP'd it??" Tim gulped as Jason Todd stomped in after their father, who was busy trying not to mull over the same issue.

Yet, he gave away too much to a future detective like the current Robin, who had calculated too much in a very short amount of time.

"I'll be there to snag him, B. Just get Roy and Wallace in. We can handle that little –

"He's only RSVP'd it because he might show, not because he's going to." Sniffed Tim to his older growling, bull dog of a big brother. "You don't know if he's going to keep his word on that. Dad? What do you think?"

Bruce tied his tie quickly while pacing the floor of his study. "That's not up to him right now, Timothy. Jason? You can be my red hawk at the ready – but no espionage tactics in front of the guets tonight." He reprimanded the boys, both of his sons.

"Is Barbie being shipped over here too to the stuffy thing?" Tim was well on point as Bruce answered.

"Yes, I have to get her out of Bludhaven before the killer is aware that he failed his mission."

"But…how can he know that, B?" Jason cocked his head and crossed his arms over his chest, a bit confused. "Babs is like a big player on the side, yeah. Heck, you're more a target than all of us –

"Dick's supposed benefactor has him on a short leash –

"Aw, gross…. don't say stuff like that to poor Timmy!"

"What? It makes plenty of sense compared to having your pre – pubescent mouse brain, Jay."

"Boys!"

The two got over their spat to pay close attention to the one holding the cards for tonight's event in Gotham. "If he shows, remain unseen and just post up whatever you can to me or Tim. Even Alfred will be making sure to pick up Barbara from the train station this evening…So. I can't have any mistakes." The man's hands flew up to push back his dark hair as the billionaire closed his eyes and sighed.

"You ok, dad?" Tim meekly asked. "Have you been sleeping –

"No, Tim." He was honest at least, but that honesty somehow hurt the boys even more.

"I'm not sleeping a full night until I know that this maniac who is threatening my family is behind bars for life. End of story. Go, then. I have to prepare my speech for the gala. Tim? Your suit is already and pressed. Alfred laid it out for you in your room. And, Jason?"

The man stayed as if a soldier, he couldn't move from his spot. Not an inch.

"I want you to wear that suit and bow tie you loath so much from your last Christmas party. Look professional for once, son."

After that, both boys were shut out of the room, while Bruce got to work on his one other side project.

Hacking into the database of a Desmond…a sly kingpin in Blud who might have some answers on where to find his other son.

/

"Yeah, yeah. We got what yer' looking for, DS." The phone was off in a clock and soon, a yelling red-haired behemoth of a man went on shouting for his worker dogs to unload the cargo.

"We gotta get this smeltin' crap cookin' soon, or I don't get my dough! Hear that? That's the sound of me pushing you toads into the bay, face down!" He snarled with his misshaped mug and started up the threats again, seeing his little worker ants squirming in their steel – toed booties.

"Huh? Did I fuckin' stutter?? Slack off, and you get the cap! Go! Get a move! Sheesh…"

The man went by his seat on the side, not being with all the lung capacity it took to keep his boys on the path to his greatness. "This city is a fun place…." He pulled out his fancy Cuban carrying case and easily lit a long cigar. Blockbuster leisurely puffed it while watching the snow melt off the docks.

"Better be a damn good investment you got me gunnin' for, Merc – baby…hehe…" Another puff, and he actually wanted to meet this little troll who was so in debt to the damn king of killers; whoever Slade had been toting on the forums as of late.

"He ain't no boy wonder, not with you." He puffed again and sighed at the air. "Gonna be a short frost…"

/

The air was cold in Gotham too, only about two hours away at best, the boy didn't care as he got into his suit and made sure to look presentable. Almost like a flipping puzzle where the sides turned as easily as a rubix cube. Which left to stand before Slade, his newest favorite toy.

"I have permission to touch you." He came down, their lips parted while Slade couldn't wait to try out the real thing. Not some virtual reality knocks off. They pulled back as this Dick Grayson licked his lips, liking the view. (So, Dick is being objectified, treated like an object and thus – Slade has no humanity in this. Sorry!)

"See you by the next sunrise." The bot spoke in Richard's voice with a sultry stare, as he waved behind him. "I'll be waiting…"

/

Dick couldn't know yet. He had to be as coy as a kitten before Slade lapped up his share of the cream. Licking his lips, hopefully that boy's taste would be much hotter than a robot's. He chuckled, waiting for the signal as soon as his other little creation had made it to Gotham Central Station.

"Dick should be so pleased, If only…" The man watched his video feed to see the boy filling out more applications on the sofa.

"Good kid you've got there Wayne." Slade headed back to his main seat inside the haunt. "Too bad I have to steal him from you."

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Dick's dopple rolled up to a lovely hotel lobby with bright lights and such a grand entrance he'd bring to this dreary city.

He was let into the lobby while on the line behind a rather old soul, his balding head a conspiracy in itself – until some coo of a dove stole his attention away.

"Richard!"

The bot immediately stared over.

Oh, it couldn't be…. his target was still alive!

"Miss Gordon!" Bruce scrambled to catch up since Alfred wasn't participating tonight.

When he saw Dick staring, that all changed.

"Richard."

"Br – Mr. Wayne?"

"You don't have to be so uptight, here." Bruce smiled to his ward, just a crinkle. "Glad you could make it."

/

They sat at a table while Slade made his move, he really wanted to try one more thing before he took it back a few steps.

Dick was upstairs doing some light stretches to pass on his break from homework, so Slade just walked right in.

Dick was using a balance beam that the man had gratefully installed, knowing his desire to keep limber.

"You're up here all alone." Slade dropped his coat into a nearby chair and was certain to recall where he'd put that wine bottle.

"Would you like me to help you out with that? I'll spot –

"It's just some basic moves." Dick shook his head and got a bit antsy, almost hitting the floor because of Slade's presence.

"Careful, kid!"

"Don't call me kid, please. I'm fine!" He was before, but now he was far too nervous to hit his best shot on that lone bar. "I'm done." Dick huffed, already about two hours in. "So, you wanted something. That's why you came, right."

Slade tossed the kid a towel and thankfully, he took it.

"I was hoping you'd let me help you to untighten any extra, knots in your back. You've got way too much tension there from how you slouch that often. Typical... Didn't the bat ever teach you how to keep your muscled toned? Prevent them from going dead on you?"

"He did, once or twice." Dick found his water bottle as Slade eyed it carefully from by the other side of the room.

"I'm still on for studying, and my class –

"You'll be fine. This won't take long at all. Promise."

Dick frowned and dried his hair before slipping the towel over the back of his neck. "Shoot, what's the catch."

"No catch, you need to unwind and…this waiting, is pretty ugly business for the both of us." He admitted.

"Even I can only hope that the robot does what it has to for Wayne to get your message. So, will you?"

There was something very off-putting about how Slade could swap voices, skins and even temperaments at times. Richard shrugged off the microfiber towel, yet that aching concern kept coming back up.

What does he want?

Why is he here?

Those questions still buzzed around while warning Dick to keep his guard up, while this Slade awaited the boy wonder's response with baited breath.

Somehow, that sounded better in retrospect, Richard told himself as the boy walked up to Slade and nodded a very prompt "yes."

"Good, then you can sit in any seat you'd like. I have a knack for this, so don't go dozing off on me, kid." The man chuckled, acting and looking so very innocent as Dick did what he said, and later would remember none of what went on in that high - risen, studio apartment.

/

Jason squinted next to Tim as Babs took the seat beside Dick and Bruce. Bruce was applauded on to go and make his speech, so ole' Todd stepped away to go in for the kill.

"Hey, mind if we swap?"

He looked up to see Bruce, who nodded a strategic ok even while among the most of his sheep.

Babs leaned into her hands and sighed. "Did you have to sit in the middle? Take my seat –

"No way." Todd made a sign with his hand as Dick's dopple raised its brow, not knowing of such a sloppy language.

"Aha…. let me give you two men some… time to chit – chat. I'm going to go…powder my nose." Babs rolled her eyes at the grin she was given by Timmy, who was laughing under his breath soon after.

"An ageless and even sexist remark…must be the spur of the moment." Tim giggled and returned to viewing his father's stage, watching with the eyes of a true detective.

He saw something and was out of his seat in mere moments.

Jason shrugged as Babs went to investigate the site as well. There had to be a bomb or something if Tim was so gung-ho on leaving his seat.

"Oh…ok….so…. are w –

"Goldie, tell me." Todd pushed the false dopple into his drinking glass as the boy stood up, the glass shattering while a woman in the back let out a yipping sound in surprise. Dick tried to apologize, yet when Babs got back to see what had really happened, she saw Dick running past her, into the men's bathroom.

Tim was gone, but Jason walked away too, saying he'd be right back.

/

That was just a half second before as Bruce's speech came to an end.

Jay snarled and pushed open the door to the men's room.

"Damn, where'd that little troll –

Before he could scream out, the shadow had returned to put that mouth of Todd's to better use scrubbing floors in the last stall. Knocking him out and returning to his face as Dick Grayson, the robot didn't see as Tim walked by, and he saw it.

Dick's wrist had gotten cut by that glass of non – alcoholic champagne.

/

Meanwhile, back in Blud, the real Grayson was getting a tissue massage by the "master" of relaxation.

Well, he wasn't touching below the belt so Dick just slumped into those rough fingers.

He got thirstier for some reason and went for his water bottle a few times during their session, as this gentle man had clearly refilled it more than as many times as Dick had drunken from...He smacked his lips.

There was no taste, so no drugs. Sipping as he did, Dick put down his drink once more as Slade continued to tend to his every need.

"That's right, little bird…just fall into the feeling. You're doing well, keep that head down."

He tapped and kneaded and – oh! His knots came out like magic as the hero rolled his shoulders with a soft little groan.

Smiling from up above, Slade had gotten half of his wish. The rest would be…. after the boy finished that entire bottle.

How incredible the pharmaceutical industry was – especially with those black-market prices. He'd turned a bit of wine into water with one pill that dissolved when it hit the surface. His pet couldn't taste it because to him, it was only water and not him getting piss drunk once they were through was certainly not another option...

But Slade didn't want to keep the brat held down on his back. No, no. He had other ways to get his thoughts to stick to that muddled brain for a bit. Maybe even a year if he were lucky.

"Still thirsty? Need to relieve yourself yet?" He asked back with a grunt, as he applied a bit of pressure to Dick still rather tense shoulders.

The young man was melting away. Whatever remained of him to strip of his old life, it wouldn't be needed much longer than a single year more. In the future at nineteen, Nightwing emerged from the ashes. Slade had liked his blue bird very much. They'd been at each other like a bunch of Xs and Os. Even Batman had said some things, but this? He'd start fresh. Turn that sad birdie into a winner, rather than a sore loser.

"I…Slade….gotta, urinate…" Dick cupped his bladder as the man let go, hands up to show that he was clean.

Nothing to hide.

But his drink wasn't. Dare he take that bird to paradise, or sweeten the deal and make him beg for it when everyone he'd ever loved just disappeared one day?

Waking up to a burning sun, his heart in shambles as the small bird crawled back into his nest to recover.

The wonderful thing about this intoxicating combo was that Dick would have a washed-out memory of anything he did up to his balance beam practice.

Slade was busy getting a sharp view of those sweatpants, as his little star made it to Venus and back.

"Had enough?"

Dick shook his head, feeling sweaty…. dizzy…his tongue was near lead in his mouth.

"You may have gotten too much done today, little bird. Let me help you into bed."

"Home…wor…"

"Don't worry." Slade rubbed his student's back soothingly, feeling that trembling heartrate turn him on as well. "You can fix your grades in the morning. Rest, for now…"

"Sleep…right…" Dick nodded while panting, the side effects of the drug.

Hallelujah. Party's over.

He was able to get onto the low bed, but his body had to be a few degrees too much. Slade wondered if the combo was a bit strong. "I'll get you a wet cloth and an ice pack. You've been pushing yourself too hard –

"N….no…not…. right…" Dick held a hand to his temple. "Dr –

"Just shush…. rest, I'll go get a bit of medicine that will put you at ease. I didn't mean to push you, I'm sorry Dick..."

~ Oh, but it was so worth it to see you break a damn sweat under my touch, kid. I'm going to enjoy the next few years opening you up to your own desires. Just like my Nightwing. ~

He petted back the boy's hair and went to the fridge to find two unused packs, courtesy of the boy's humble provider. "Here we go. Hold onto these." Dick was so a mess that he clung instead to Slade's hand like a baby seeking its mother. "Don…go…not yet." Ah, the obvious. Slade petted that dark mane and remembered that Dick was only human. While, he could always become a serum user. He'd perfected the last batch since…

Slade thought about it, but decided only if the kid was near death would he resort to such methods.

Nightwing had denied him, but this one?

He put his forehead to the boy's and watch the kid relax into the contact of another person.

"This time, I won't go away." He whispered. I'll stay as long as you want me to…I promise, my little Robin."

/

This. Was enough to make my skin crawl. Like the time I drew my dad in charcoal pencil and it was too lifelike…That…is why keeping things in is sometimes a way to preserve our sanity…ugh, bad gut health week, but?...

Slade, is grooming a man who ALREADY grew up in ANOTHER universe to make him love him in this universe?? What? I was afraid to go too far too soon, so we had it switch between Dick being plain drugged by Slade and Dick the robot dopple making a scene like he'll get into any real trouble with the current bat fam members. No Cass yet, no Stephanie, and no Cate or Dami. All Nightwing years with Duke too!

Also, Jason is not hog – tied up and gagged in the last stall of the men's bathroom - will clarify this in next chapter. Blockbuster is on DS's bandwagon? What are they making? Weapons of mass destruction…or….?

Slade's not told Dick where his money is coming from for his swag, but rest assured! In a few short chapters they will meet and all will be explained. Not sans tears... Find out and read on. Stay curious.

Home on thunderstorm day preparing for autoimmune flux if I get lucky and it passes…so that is why so many chapters are going up. Slade is a groomer; he likes his purebreds right from the source. Don't ask what that means, it's supposed to be an innuendo of some sort…ugh. Stay tuned!

If anyone noticed it, Slade is an actor but if he weren't? He'd have multiple personality disorder and possible some other twisted disorder to put him back in a box. Who knows if he showed up after leaving one – no spoilers!!