Slade quickly realized that something was wrong with Dick over the past two weeks.
He seemed duller, less energetic than usual and his jokes noticeably diminished.
Slade never thought he would miss puns, but apparently he was dead wrong.
Hell, even in their contracts Renegade was quieter and less playful!
Deathstroke thought that the silence he always wanted from his apprentice during contracts would make him satisfied but actually made him even more worried about the kiddo.
Even in training Dick was quieter and more silent.
The super soldier tried several times to ask him what was wrong but it was like crashing into a wall going 150 km/h. Either Dick told him everything was fine -one of the worst lies the man had ever heard- or he ignored him completely.
And even a patient man like Slade was becoming increasingly frustrated and he had to constantly remind himself that anger and frustration would get him nowhere.
Too bad, however, that Dick was becoming more and more withdrawn into himself.
As soon as Dick came down the stairs after waking up, Slade immediately realized that it had been a very bad night for the acrobat. Not only he had not gone to Slade's bed to find comfort -this had become their routine because of all the nightmares that plagued the poor kiddo- but now the more experienced mercenary could see the redness in his eyes and traces of dried tears.
And another sign that set off bells in the man's mind was the fact that Dick had not even said good morning to him: he had merely sat and stared blankly at his breakfast.
Now Slade knew that in reality Dick did not really need to eat or drink because of his Talon physiognomy and that the acrobat made them to feel more human and to enjoy the food that surely did not hurt him.
In fact Dick did not even need to sleep and even then he slept to feel more human, despite the nightmares that would never stop haunting him.
Dick once confided in him that he could go weeks at a time without a single minute's sleep and would only feel just a tinge of tiredness. But sleep nonetheless helped Dick feel slightly better.
In any case, the fact that Dick was not eating made him realize that he should insist more with the kiddo.
"What has been occupying your mind in your last few weeks?"
...Okay, maybe Slade should have weighed his words better to say but in his defense he was still learning how to have emotional conversations, especially with his son.
Dick shot him a dirty look. "I'm perfectly fine!" he hissed and got out of his seat, heading for the bathroom without adding anything else.
Slade gave a pained sigh and stared absentmindedly at his son's untouched breakfast.
With any other child Slade would definitely have been a tougher, stricter parent. Not that he was not with Dick but with him he was more careful.
Dick, however, was not a normal child. He saw, suffered and did things that would have made even the Man of Steel himself piss his pants.
Slade feared that if he acted more sternly the kiddo would fall into the old habits implanted in him by the Court of Owls, something he would never, ever want to happen.
He would rather have died than have Dick return to his former state.
Slade would find out that day what the hell was troubling his son.
Whatever the cost.
Once he returned home after dropping Dick off at school Slade called Wintergreen and asked if he knew the reason for Dick's recent unusual behavior. Unfortunately for him, his best friend was as unaware of it as he was and could not help.
So Slade rolled up his sleeves and began researching Dick's past life on the Internet, hoping to get something.
It was much easier than the man had expected.
Slade let out a sigh and leaned back in the back of his chair and began to absentmindedly drum his fingers on his office desk.
It was the death anniversary of Dick's parents.
Technically this would be the fourth year since the Flying Graysons were killed but for Dick it is actually the first anniversary of their death that he can actually witness since he had been brainwashed and unconscious in previous years.
This perfectly explained Dick's recent behavior. And Slade felt like a real idiot for not getting there sooner.
Was he a bad adoptive parent if he did not even know the date of death of his son's parents?
Probably.
But at least now Slade would never again forget a very important thing like this.
Doing more research Slade discovered that Dick's parents were buried in Gotham Cemetery and their funeral was paid for by the local billionaire himself: Bruce Thomas Wayne.
The fucking Batman.
Slade arched a surprised eyebrow when he read that Wayne was present at the time Dick's parents were killed. A sudden thought crossed the mercenary's mind.
Perhaps if Cobb had never shown up Wayne would have taken Dick in.
The thought that Dick, his son, would be taken in and adopted by a man who dresses up as a Bat to illegally beat up criminals at night made him waver a little. Knowing Dick, he would discover Wayne's secret in no time and force the billionaire to train him to become a hero.
In that case, however, Dick's only training would have been circus acrobatics.
Dick would not have been immortal.
Dick would not have become a Talon.
Dick would not have been killed.
Dick would not have been brutally trained.
Dick would not have been tortured every day in the worst possible and unimaginable ways.
Dick would not have been forced to kill innocents and children.
Dick would not have been forced (kind of) to kill Zucco.
Slade shook his head, acknowledging to himself that he was going into dangerous territory and that the what if would get him nowhere.
He would have to focus on the present and the true reality of things. Slade thought that Dick deserved to visit the graves of his parents that he never had a chance to see.
Although the thought of going to the city where his son's worst nightmare was hiding made him doubt a little. It would have been much easier if the visit took place in the afternoon and if both he and Dick would be well disguised.
Because Slade knew that the Owls were aware of everything that would happen in Gotham and watched from the shadows of the city. And he would never be able to forget the nursery rhyme sung by Dick in a hollow, cold tone of voice in his time stuck as Talon.
Slade pondered the idea for a couple of minutes and nodded to himself.
For once the training could be skipped.
"I finished my homework. We can start training." Dick announced as he descended the stairs.
Slade threw him an array of clothes and accessories that made the acrobat frown in confusion. "Get dressed. We're going somewhere."
"What about training?" Dick asked, frowning as he looked at the stuff Slade threw at him as if they were a time bomb.
"It can be skipped for a day. Now go and get dressed." ordered Slade who walked away, leaving a confused-looking Dick Grayson behind.
Dick stared at himself in the mirror with an arched eyebrow. He was wearing a coat that fit him loosely, jeans, a casual hat, and brown contact lenses.
If the acrobat did not know better, he would say that his own reflection was a complete stranger to him. As he exited his room, he curiously wondered where Slade would take him and why he had to be unrecognizable.
He, however, lacked the energy and was in no mood to play at being a detective. He descended the stairs and froze when he stared at his adoptive father.
Although Slade's camouflage was less efficient than Dick's, it still took him a few seconds before he realized he was staring at his father.
Slade stared at him and nodded contentedly, taking the keys to the house and his car. "Come on, kiddo. We don't have all the time in the world."
"Where are we going?" asked Dick, following him.
"It's a surprise."
If it had been any other day, Dick would have pressed the issue much harder until he grew tired or until Slade gave in.
Too bad, however, that was not any other day and Dick merely nodded silently.
oOo
The car ride was spent in silence, broken occasionally by Slade's few attempts to start a conversation. He quickly realized that his son was in no mood to chat and thus decided not to utter another word for the entire trip.
How ironic it was that the roles had now reversed. It was always Dick who filled the silence by chatting about whatever was on his mind with Slade nodding or grunting occasionally, showing that he was listening.
Dick's brown eyes -of the disguise- lazily turned outside the window. He was lost in his own thoughts until his eyes caught a still very distant street sign, reading it well despite the distance.
Welcome to Gotham City.
"Why are we going to Gotham?" Dick blurted, unable to hold back the urge to shudder.
To say that it was the city he hated most in the world was an understatement.
Not only did Gotham take away his parents, the circus, and his childhood, but it took him through the real Hell. And it was also the place where they hid.
"You will soon find out."
His father's enigmatic answer made him sigh irritably and he began to drum nervously in his seat, trying to keep out the flashbacks that threatened to overwhelm him.
Why are we in Gotham? Why has Slade brought me here when he forbids me to accompany him on every Gotham contract he accepts?
Dick had so many questions on his mind that he barely noticed the car pulling up. Slade motioned for him to get out and he obeyed, approaching his mentor once he had closed the car door.
He opened his mouth to ask what they should do when his eyes met the sign in front of him announcing the entrance to Gotham Cemetery.
"Slade? Why are we entering Gotham Cemetery?"
Internally Slade frowned in confusion before a horrible realization crossed his mind.
Dick does not know that his parents were buried here.
It made a lot of sense but was so sad that it made the super soldier's heart twist painfully. Silently he put an arm around the shoulders of Dick, who was surprised by the gesture since his father rarely initiated physical contact, and gently escorted him inside the cemetery.
As they walked in silence Dick began to think that Slade would show him the grave of some friend, relative or someone else. His first thought was Grant's grave but he quickly discarded the thought, being pretty sure that Slade's eldest son was buried in New York.
Dick stared at Slade and despite his stoic face showing no clues the acrobat noticed how his eyes moved quickly and minutely from one grave to another, as if he were searching for some grave whose exact location he did not know.
A few minutes later Slade stopped abruptly, forcing Dick to do the same. The last Flying Grayson looked up at his father and noticed the mix of emotions that crossed his face before it quickly disappeared, making him briefly doubt whether he had seen right.
Slade cleared his throat, a little uncomfortably, and opened his mouth to speak. Nothing, however, came from his lips, and Dick stared at him in confusion. Slade closed his mouth again with an irritated snort -cursing himself and his emotional constipation- and gave Dick a gentle push forward.
Dick stared at him still confused before turning toward the direction in which Slade pushed him. His eyes met two graves and, reading the carvings on them, they opened wide in shock.
John Grayson. Beloved husband, father and friend.
Mary Grayson. Beloved wife, mother and friend.
Dick brought a hand to his mouth, unable to completely muffle the sound of total shock that escaped him involuntarily.
Dick did not think his parents had been buried in Gotham Cemetery. He thought that Haly's circus had buried them somewhere else, perhaps in the birthplace or his Mami's or his Tati's or in the city where they met.
The thought that his parents had been buried in the place where they were killed did not cross his mind at all, and now Dick felt like the dumbest person in the world for not having thought of that. After all, if he remembers correctly, in the last period the circus had some financial problems and could hardly afford his parents' funerals.
He turned sharply toward Slade, who gave a sad smile. "I'm sorry I didn't know that today was the day you lost everything. I found out before you came home from school that your parents were buried here." he ran a hand through his white hair, masking his own nervousness. "I thought you might like to see them for the first time since… well, you know." he concluded, putting his hands in his pockets.
On any other occasion Dick would have laughed at the barely concealed nervousness of the world's most dangerous mercenary. He merely turned a watery smile on him. "Thank you, Slade." his voice cracked, thick with emotion, but he pretended not to. "This means a lot to me."
Slade smiled, relieved he hadn't screwed up. "If you want, I can give you some privacy." he said even though the idea of leaving his son alone in the place where the Court of Owls was hiding rang hundreds of alarm bells in his head.
The former military man would have denied for life the relief that swept over him when the kiddo shook his head. "You can stay here if you want."
"Of course I do."
So Slade listened for more than an hour to the one-sided conversation between Dick and his parents' graves, giving no signal to hurry. His attention refocused on Dick when he heard the conversation take an unexpected turn.
"...And this is Slade, my adoptive father and the man who not only saved me but gave me a second chance at life."
Slade felt his heart swell with warmth and pride and gave a small smile, kneeling in front of the headstones. "Your son is a true gift. You have raised him very well. I promise I will do my best to protect him."
This was a promise Slade was determined to keep, no matter what.
"I needed this." Dick affirmed once they were back in the car. "Thank you for bringing me here."
"Whenever you want to see them, don't hesitate to ask me."
Very moved Dick felt his eyes pinch and hugged Slade before he could start the car. "You're the best, Slade!"
Slade gave him a few pats on the back. "I'm doing my best."
On the return trip, Dick asked his father a question that had been buzzing in his head for a while. "Who paid for their funeral? From what I remember the circus was not in its best financial condition at that time."
Slade stared at him briefly before returning his gaze to the road. "Bruce Wayne."
The name was no stranger to Dick, as Bruce Wayne was a well-known billionaire who often appeared in the news.
"One of the richest men in the world?" Dick's eyes went wide in surprise. "Why would he do such a thing?"
"Do you know Wayne's story?" Slade asked instead.
Dick frowned thoughtfully before assuming a sad look. "He too lost his parents at a young age, didn't he?"
The acrobat received a nod and immediately a wave of sympathy toward the billionaire swept over him in full force, despite not knowing him personally.
"Besides, Wayne was present at the circus that day." Slade added a few minutes after silence had set in.
Dick tried to place the image of Bruce Wayne he saw in the news or on his phone to the still blurred memories of that day. Finally he shook his head in defeat. "I don't remember that."
Slade didn't know if that was good or not but still he was meanly happy about it.
"...If I saw him one day I should thank him."
The mercenary had a nervous twitch in his left eye. "You can't because you're legally dead, remember?"
"Oh, right."
The disappointment was clear in Dick's voice and Slade sighed. "If I see him someday, I'll tell him I was a big fan of the Flying Grayson and they would be grateful." he grumbled.
At least Slade was grateful that Batman did not know Deathstroke's identity.
Despite how much he disliked the idea of thanking the Bat, even though he had proposed it himself, it was definitely worth it when he saw Dick's face light up. "Thanks, Dad!"
Slade merely grunted in response, ignoring how warm he felt inside every time Dick called him that.
Slade was very happy with how Dick was returning to his playful, sunny, energetic demeanor.
Although he would have preferred not to hear him sing all the return trip.