"Kid," Slade did a double take as he unlocked and opened his door to find one Dick Grayson standing before him. He was dressed in street clothes and unmasked. His bright, blue eyes held a slightly glassy look as he clutched at himself, rubbing his arms and shifting on his feet. How he had known Slade would even be here to greet him when he had yet to leave the safe house and go after his target, was something Slade would have to address later. "You must be in some trouble to be knocking at my door."

"Slade," Grayson spoke, sounding breathless, surely he hadn't run here? This particular safe house might be in the city proper but it was still a distance from where he knew the kid had taken up residency. However, the sheen of sweat against his exposed skin told Slade all he needed to know. "I've been out walking. Thinking. Can I come in?"

His eye roved the kid's face, taking in how he refused to meet his gaze, his chin slightly lowered and shoulders tense. The nervous energy coming off him in waves would be enough to affect any other person, but Slade had never been one to fit into such a category as average. And Grayson out wandering the streets alone never boded well for his state of mind. Finally, Slade backed up and gestured inside. "Make yourself at home kid."

"Thanks."

Slade closed the door and followed after Grayson. He was amazed by how easily he maneuvered the hallway, choosing the correct closed door, among many, to the sitting room. It wasn't his first time here, of course. But it was definitely the first time Grayson had crossed his doorway completely coherent and not dripping blood or sporting injuries in some capacity.

As he expected, the kid didn't sit but instead bounced a bit on his feet as he swung his arms slightly back and forth.

Slade cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sure you burned through plenty of calories on your walk, need something to eat or drink? Water for the children in the room?"

Grayson did freeze and meet his gaze then, his lips pressed together, before, "You know full well I've been over twenty-one for years now."

Slade only smirked at the expected rebuttal, "Perhaps, but I doubt Daddy Bats would approve of you partaking in the sinner's drink."

"I don't need Bruce's permission in my drink choices."

Grayson's feathers were so easily ruffled by any mention of Wayne's obsessive need to control everything around him. Slade merely snorted dubiously, just about everything the Bat's kids did reflected their desire to please a man who would never recognize another's accomplishments. But he kept this opinion to himself as he grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge in the corner and dropped onto the couch.

"So who did you piss off this week kid?"

Grayson looked up again, confusion wrinkling his forehead. "What? Uh, no one more than usual. Nothing I can't handle."

Slade took a sip of water as he waited for Grayson to elaborate. But the younger man appeared to have retreated once more into his own thoughts and stayed quiet. He cleared his throat, trying to coax him to focus and get on with his purpose. Slade knew from experience they would be here all day with nothing to show for it if he allowed Grayson to lead the show. "Then if you don't need my help with a mission, why are you here kid? You don't usually make social calls."

He opened his mouth, words apparently on the tip of his tongue, before he shut it again, and swallowed hard. He began to move once more, this time pacing a line before the couch like a lion trapped in a cage.

"You're going to wear a tread line in my perfectly good floor." When this similarly received no response, Slade changed tact. "Now I definitely have to hear what it is that has you speechless. Perhaps I can make use of the technique in the future," he lightly mocked.

Grayson paused, the look he shot him both the expected exasperation but also tinged with trepidation. Despite his sarcasm, Slade now found himself particularly curious as to what had set the kid on edge. There was fear but not in a life or death kind of situation, he was sure of that.

"Kori is pregnant," the kid blurted out. His hands started to shake at his pronouncement, before he clasped them together behind his back.

Slade blinked. It was hardly the news he expected, least of all because he wasn't sure why Grayson would feel the need to share such tidings with him. "Congratulations?" he ventured.

"That's not why— I mean I wanted—" He sputtered before halting in his tracks, swaying on the spot. The kid looked bone-tired, the circles under his eyes appearing darker due to the pale flush of his skin. Pushing himself past the point of exhaustion wasn't all that unusual for Grayson. Though Slade had noticed lately he had been taking better care of himself, probably due to having moved in with the alien girl. He hadn't heard that the kid was working on a particularly grueling case. Had the revelation that he would be having a kid affect him that much? It was strange, if anything, he would have thought Grayson would be thrilled at such an idea. The kid had always valued family above all else, it was one of the things that made him such a tough fighter, that need to protect those he cared about.

Finally, Grayson threw himself into the chair across from Slade. Moaning softly, he rubbed his fingers against closed eyes. His voice was quieter when he spoke again, "As much as I hate to admit it, with everything that's happened over the years, you probably know me better than anyone."

Slade remained quiet, watching as the kid tried not to squirm in his seat, as he slowly came around.

"And you won't mouth simple platitudes at me. You will answer me straight." Grayson paused again. Tilting his head, he took a deep breath, met Slade's eye and asked, "Do you think I'll make a good father?"

Slade went still. If the initial announcement had been bewildering, Grayson's need for his opinion on his ability to be a father was even more so. After all, what did Slade know about being a good father?

But there it was, finally, the reason the kid had come to him. The uncertainty and mental anguish were written all over his face and particularly emphasized in his all too expressive eyes, for any who knew him well enough to read. Grayson was standing on a brittle ledge, only a slim glimmer of hope keeping him balanced as he looked down at every fault he felt he possessed and every wrong he thought he had ever committed. Every moment of his life that would prove to him without a doubt that he would only screw up anyone as impressionable as a child. Wayne had really done a number on the kid's psyche over the years, damaging him more than Slade ever could. He had lost count the number of times over the years it had been him, not Wayne, who Grayson had turned to during his most self-deprecating moments.

But how the kid insisted on giving him the same amount of trust he would to an ally had never sat right with Slade. After everything they had been through together, all that Slade had put the kid through, Grayson should be running in the opposite direction every time their paths crossed. But he didn't. Instead he knew that, despite everything, Slade would be one of the most honest people in his life. After all, the last few years he had been there to dole out praise for Grayson's abilities, something Slade knew the kid hardly, if ever, received, but he also never sugarcoated what he saw as Grayson's shortcomings and how he thought the kid could improve.

Grayson had moved forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped as he gave Slade his full attention, his expression earnest and desperate. Slade sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, "You know I love my kids more than anything." Grayson simply nodded in understanding, knowing the lengths Slade would and had gone to keep Joey and Rose safe. "But I've never been a good father to them. I've used them to suit my own purposes, hurt them deeper than the mere physical clashes we've had in the field. But you… I've seen the way you've acted amongst your team and with your brothers. You've always had that protective, caring instinct. And it only got stronger when I threatened those closest to you as I tried to eradicate such weakness from you."

He deliberated, a brief, dark thought crossing his mind as he noted how Grayson hung on his every word. He could destroy the kid right here. Send him into a pit of despair so deep he would turn his back on his family and friends, very likely it might even finally send him permanently to Slade's side.

But as he hesitated and looked into those blue eyes, that were still so trusting and innocent despite the horrors he had been witness to throughout his young life, Slade was surprised to find he didn't want to. In some deep part of himself, one he never liked to examine too closely, he knew he had come to care about the kid seated before him. He greatly enjoyed their fights, both physically and verbally. And he knew that Grayson, above all, deserved some sliver of happiness amidst all the garbage the costumed life continued to throw at him. "Yeah kid, I think you'll be a great father."

The smile that stretched across Grayson's face could have lit an entire building. But it dimmed a moment later as he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You really think so?"

"Didn't you come to me for the truth?" he replied gruffly, annoyed.

"I did, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to insinuate you were just telling me what I wanted to hear…" he backtracked quickly.

"Kid," Slade cut across his rambling, "it's fine. Now do you think you can trust yourself enough to do what you already would have done without my confirmation?"

His head bobbed enthusiastically, the smile coming back full force. "Thank you."

Slade waved the thanks away, "Now go, I'm sure your girl is wondering where you've gone."

Grayson fairly hopped from his chair and bounded out the room. Slade listened for the sound of the door closing behind the kid before he let his head drop back to the couch and closed his eyes. Soon there would be a miniature Grayson running around in the world, sure to be just as energized and verbose as their father. Just what he needed.