Sladin or Bust – Explicit One Shots from the Vault of Sladin-

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Alt Chapter ~ Nightwing; A Series of Doubts – Exit Rescue Scene – Enter; The Misery Years… .

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This is bad, I like suspense but I all of a sudden wanted to write if Dick was never saved by the team from the alt version of Slade and if he was….well….flames be damned! This is abuse here and I don't have to wait and see if I can write it. Fantasy is all I see, so let's take peek.

This is the last chapter when Slade is in the kitchen with Dick on his birthday and they are awaiting the last of the contract. Dick strikes out and loses….no one comes to save him because the future bots are programmed to keep them all away. Wild goose chase, while Dick's goose booty is surely cooked. Read on. Poor Robbie!!

THIS IS THE ALT ENDING AGAIN OF NIGHTWING SERIES OF DOUBTS ARC AND YES. SLADE FROM EARTH 45 (MADE UP) IS LITERALLY COMMITTING A VERY SERIOUS CRIME THAT IS NOW IN PRINT HERE FOR THE SAKE OF FANTASY. THINK, OKANE HMGAI NAI OR SONETHING CRAPPY LIKE THAT. WE CAN'T DO MUCH SO WORK AT 1PM READ AND WEEP.

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Dick's Birthday….March 21st; 10pm – Stockholm, Sweden. Wilson Apartment, Kitchen/ Living Room

/

Dick held up the spatula, he was prepared to flip whatever they'd been tasked in cooking. The cake was on the table, inboxes as faux Slade had left the candles going. What had he done…

~ I want to add to this deal; twenty-one. ~ Richard had sworn on his parents that night at nineteen, the man, looming over hungrily as the casserole burned. ~Are you asking to wait until you are legal to do what I'm intending? There is a stipulation to your request. You must compensate. Stay here as Nightwing. Do what he would. ~

~Would he let you rape him. ~

/

That man, this year in the living room was NOT, Slade. That Slade; that Dick was sure he'd even met at Sionas's factory the first day in Blud. The first case, and then this Slade swooped in to…

"It's time. Your candles are all lit. Turn off the stove. The fritters should be done cooking."

"They need to crisp up –

"They're done." Slade snapped. "Come here."

Dick looked to the side of his arm. A cleaver was peeking out from the rest as he moved to pull off his apron. Slade had turned him into a wide overnight. One he wouldn't deliver until he was twenty-one, today. Well, it was nearly too late to be heard by anyone still up. He'd planned to come home late. To make that escape unnecessary.

"OK…" Richard flung the apron like Robin would his cape and in his hand, he held the cleaver with the grip if a truly desperate survivor. "Come and get me, psychopath….!"

/

Slade dropped the voice, his tone all of it. Silent, as he rose and walked. "Your jitters are normal for today, but I won't tolerate you trying to break out deal. Not when you allowed me to act according to our agreement."

"I never wanted ANY of you, or this!! I want out, and if I have to kill the faker that you are…" Dick snarled as he waved the knife in Slade – father's face. "So be it. You don't deserve to walk all over me or the people w –

"Where are they?" Hum? Have you noticed it yet, little bird?" Slade nearly cackled, throwing back his head a little. Dick growled and food behind the island. The door was so close and he had a way to defend himself. He could get help. Find Jason. See if they'd come. They had to!

"I sent your little family on a wild trip. The alter – me for this world, the real Slade Wilson is still floating aimlessly through the void I shoved him into, to find… you." Squinted the gleeful devil with that one glowing eye of gold. "I wanted your heart back, after the time I'd lost it. I promised I'd never lose my true Nightwing again.

"I'm not your replacement. You probably –

"You meant, I?" The thing in Slade, it snapped as he lunged. Dick was unprepared and let the blade slice into the man's shoulder by mistake. Too low to decapitate, too lean to get deep enough. The blade was wrenched out, Dick's face losing its color as he fell and covered his head, crawling no sooner to get away. That hulk grabbed out at his leg, Richard resorting to screaming, crying and kicking over the counter as the boy was dragged onto the solid counter with a heavy thud. His back was slammed to it, shouting and trying to hit the man who still had blood dropping from that small wound at his shoulder. It would heal, yet…. He had failed.

Richard's throat was clenched with a grip that seemed inhuman. Yet, this beast had claws and muscle. It wasn't really human at all anymore.

Faux Slade held no mercy as his prey's shirt was torn down and left to shreds. His prey's work pants were dragged to fall at his hips as Richard's rabid heartrate upped, left to pumping harder than last time at eighteen. All while something else pulsed hotly and wetted between his thighs.

"Oh, God…. oh…."

God….it was happening. Slade was…. Breaching, through? Slade's pants had already come down in only moments as he steadied himself to inch over the counter. He was doing it again!

Dick immediately Beckman to panic. "No, no!! Stop! You can't do this! I – I!!"

Dick's enemy ceased to listen. The boy's ears popped; his back arched up, as Slade roughly entered his body. That goddammit ra –

"!! NO……N….NA…." Clenching down, it fucking... burned …...!

The kid's hips shifted up and forwards a bit as he was made to bleed and rocked up to down with the man's hands holding him In place, while the man kept another hand to his hip. The other, around his throat. Not even squeezing, still. Richard cried out.

"No one can hear your pretty shouts. No one else cares, Dick."

The man grinned toothy over the child's crying eyes as he came to shove his tongue down the boy's throat.

Thinking himself the hopeless "romantic' Slade's demanding tongue found him, as Richard tried to deter it poorly. Pulling back, Slade nipped and licked up the remaining taste. His balls slapping against the brat's sore hole without measure.

On and on.

Richard was wholly now, shaking, yet the man still had not gotten to release inside his ripped hole yet.

"Oh……God… why ? Why me? Please …m- make…. I…it….st - s- stop !!"

Dick saw the man pull back; his smile as criminal as they came with a hint of sadness peppered in. He craned over to breathe in the kid's eyes.

"Happy birthday for real, little bird, this was always what I had wanted since that day...…." His lips this time found the young man's forehead and left a softer, smooth kiss there at his sweaty temple.

Slade moved, back, inwards again with one thrust and an even greater grunt than the first time on that rooftop in Blud. Richard choked and glared through his left-over threats. "D – done! B- be done …. p – please…. please …"

This monster's virility was far too super human as Richard's last resort was to numb himself with his only tears, to be bodily torn and to let the man come inside of him.

The man's thrusts increased until they finally, near, ended.

Hot seed, white cum. Richard's thighs quivered as he was held still and pushed down against the counter until his body could crack.

That every drop was pumped into the boy's awaiting ass as Richard let his head tip back not to see it. His legs flopped over the side of the counter as his enemy's last grunt, both heavily panting ended their rough tongued coitus. Richard, more so numb and shaking; the rapist's last thrust, came there as he was made to yelp at the newly implanted, and invasive intrusion. He wouldn't sleep well after this. It was so uncomfortable and….he was sure he had more.

Prodding him still, deep down inside as Richard's tired hole as he howled out and bawled. Right, he hated being right… The man then released the boy's bruised up neck, finally.

As it should be. A contract signed in his inky blood.

No history could be carved as deep as this. Slade took one look at the aftermath. His eyes were cold, unfeeling as Richard had ever seen them." "Mm…mon…..ster…." Dick looked away; his body was a mess and he knew not why entirely. The table was a wreck and the candles…

Hadn't burned out.

Richard squeezed his eyes shut. He stayed there and like a corpse, he prayed to stay buried. Slade looked over his work before coming back down and possessively nuzzling into the other man's bruised – up neck. "You did so well…." He purred out the praise, making Richard's hairs rise up. A hand circling round his stained left hip. "Dick…this had to happen, it was fated for us …go, make a wish on those candles, little bird." After leaving his stubble to brush across the boy's shoulder, his rather cold shoulder was left alone to heal, to be marked as he had his new deflowered little lover. The lights went out. The food, now cold and disregarded was not put away with care. Slade let the boy sulk, but he however, needed to freshen up. To, give himself a moment. He would not be far away.

/

March 21st; Midnight…

Richard did find the energy to get up, just like before.

He found the couch and the cake. The candles were down to two. How many? Just how much longer? He hugged himself while in his torn pants that were barely covering himself. His shirt, ripped beyond repair.

He had tried. He had stalled. He had lost every right to be himself for whatever that worked…. He put a hand through his dirty, cum stained locks and tugged them angrily.

Richard, was Richard Wilson. His lip wobbled as he sat on the sofa's closest arm and collected its last bit of scent. Putting a hand over his mouth, the odor made him sick. He pounded the cushion when the stray scent of that…. sicko overtook him. Richard looked for an extra blanket from the closet, gingerly he took on his tip toes and laid it over to mask the smell. The indecent human odor that made him nauseous now. He ran, ran right to the sink and puked. His body saw the food on the stove still and threw fritters and asparagus right into the kitchen's largest trash bin. The pan and all, nothing was spared. He looked for another thing to ruin. Finding not the cleaver since Slade might have intercepted that, he saw what looked to be a meat tenderizer…

He picked it up, the cake there on the coffee table and burning hotly out his age. Twenty- one. His fucking day to get ripped open and sewn back together….by the same person the only person left….in his life. No.

Fate was a fucking joke . This was serial abductor 101. He was being catered to by his stalker from another universe. A dead one.

" Aaarhh!! !!" He rushed for the device; hands ready as he hacked the cake until it had no candles left to stay mocking him. He had no wishes left. Only a want fir freedom from this mad house.

Hacking it up as stray bits hit the floor and the furniture, he kept thinking of his family in the United States.

White icing sprayed as blood on his fingers. He raked through it, hoping to find goddammit magic beans if he tried to till the white frosting I ng enough. He had to find HIS LIFE. In that goddammit pastry. He…. he screamed. Like the crap inside his belly. Like the cake on the floor. Ruined. Just like him.

"Blow this ?? You! Want! Me! To?? You! Dick! Damn!! Fuck!! You… you…. sick …. why? Why!? Why why ???" He dropped the kitchen – made mallet and cried until his eyes only saw blurred, imperfect colors. Looking up at the borish, white ceiling, his eyes saw what didn't exist. He was crazy. He wasn't –

An array of unease settled while he did his best to fall by the table with a splay of frosting and wheaten decay still left on his cheek. Like blood, he didn't feel very safe from himself any more than he did from the man who had taken his future.

His pants were over ruled by another's amused chuckle right behind.

"This looks oh, somewhat familiar."

/

By the door of the hall, the faker stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His back was to the wall, casual and not covered in vanilla frosting for one. Dick didn't know what to do. What to say or….

"You're not permitted to tarnish your image. Tomorrow is a new day. You don't realize this, but after Nightwing and I made our union official, he took off. I permitted that as long as we remained in a mutual trust, this agreement is to prevent the first from failing. That he'd let me in whenever I came to call. You should think to keep me around longer as well. For your own benefit."

"You can't own us." Dick rasped from all of that crying. "I'm sleeping here, away from you. Fuck. Off…."

"Nightwing would listen." The man ignored the ramble of a dead man. "I knew his sleeping habits far better-

"YOU stupid… PSYCHO! You…. you manipulated him? What kind of lover was expecting " Nightwing" in your time to be…to be so…willing to any of this??! I mean, you raped me to keep me here when I was already yours anyway! You drove away my family, got the old Slade who would never do…." Dick nudged his head to the counter with a shaky breath. "THAT. You dumped him into some void. Dragged my dad halfway around the world so he'll never get a chance to tell …. he was right. I was the one who ruined their happy lives, and you…And…. If you wanted love, you could have gone back in fucking time with your future tech to save the Nightwing who'd put up with you. Who'd let you do what you just did to a goddammit…A Child , who lost everything because you've…I get it now…. I so, get it…!" Dick put a hand to his skull and let out a little laugh, in his shock. His epiphany. "You… you drove Nightwing insane. You killed him, not B. Not even Babs. You got everyone to hate him –

"You don't know anything." Slade's hands stayed back. "After you were like this, I'd thought then we could renegotiate. That you could be at ease in your new life. That I could step away while you breathe for just a while without me in this room. I was the one who was wrong, Dick. You can't be trusted. They have to get out. All of them…. past, present…."

"S…. You're acting weird. You then, just…. just get out. I'm not doing anything to help you anymore." Dick told the dapple. "You did just about, enough." Dick pointed to the door, the exit. Slade just stood, his eyes wide and yet, he didn't budge.

"You can't be trusted. You'll die. You all die in the end." He kept talking, kept muttering like a lunatic. And then, it hit.

"Slade…why….in that vision, what happened to you?"

Slade then moved and Dick got up. He knew it. This was a Slade who wasn't mentally sound. Who would do anything to keep him alive. Even if that meant keeping others away. "My Nightwing was good, he never ran. He could fly and fight. You won't try to surpass him. You can't. You can't die…"

Slade lifted the coffee table as it broke, tossed onto the side of the room, shattered legs as Richard hugged the opposite wall and looked for a weapon. "I'm not an object! You can't lock me up and throw away the key. This isn't my future! You're lying to yourself. Tell me what –

"No! You can't find out…you can't see me like this…. go, sleep…or I'll make you…. I'll take you there myself."

/

Richard was paralyzed in the night. His heart was loud and Slade only grew angrier with each passing beat.

"S- stay away! You're not –

"You…have to listen. Rest is what you require."

"SLADE!!" The man was just about to bring him in. In where, he imagined his room. "S…stop…I'll go. Just…stop…" Dick was shaking, moving timidly to the wall, then to his room he went, as he shut the door. Breathing into it, he slumped down and bit his lip until it blistered. "This is what he wants, to keep me around forever…." Dick sniffled and looked over at the unused bed. "Fuck…"

With a dry heave in his chest, Richard scrambled to the window and searched up and down, the ground was far too far for him to reach. The locks were too secure. Army tough. No way." He pulled back and got more anxious than the last time in Blud. No way was he leaving this shitty world without his gear. Slade had put Nightwing on hold since they had stopped in Sweden and had not left. Blud was a fine, rusted memory until he was….

Richard looked at the bed behind him, at the door in case his life was back to being on his toes. Ignoring the sticky residue in between his thighs, the redness on his hip and the bruise to his neck, he was too tired. So tired…

/

By morning, Richard was left lying on his bed spread with the sun gleaming down from the tall window of his flat's bedroom corner. Nothing had opened the door, no one had come to save him. All last night, not as Slade….raped him.

As his eyes squinted away bits of light in them, he groaned softly, drool at the corner of his lip as he smacked them thirstily. The odor of something savory took his senses to wake; it was morning, yet his body would not let him stay here much for the while, not even to survive another assault.

The wafting aroma of… food. Food, that Richard imagined would take hours to craft. From the next room. The kitchen?

Slade. His blood flooded him as ice shards, prickling below the flesh of his bruised back and up to his spinal column.

He ignored it all but his grumbling belly, the absent cake made it harder to give a damn. Or, to not. Richard threw off the sheets with a wince. The pain! He groaned, falling back into them and biting his lip, screwing his eyes back shut, he looked at the closed door. No. Slade wasn't going to leave him alone. It was a trick. He had to be waiting, baiting him. Richard ground his jaw and withheld the pain deep inside. His legs squeezed together at the pain in his gut. Cramping, cramps?

Fuck. He needed to get a doctor. Maybe Slade had zero tech to fix him from the future. Tears were wiped back as he struggled to find the knob. To leave the light and silence of this room that still harbored so many different shadows within its walls.

Hunger, begged him on. So, he took the bait.

/

He peeked out the door, seeing the toilet a few steps out. He tip toed with a head lowered and found the nob. Touching it, reaching out, Richard went in and shut the door without trying to click it. Toilet, right.

Richard had to clean off. He saw the tear and caring grossest. Ah, and the mess in between his legs seemed to make him light headed. Richard ended up in the sink again, neck bowing over as he upchucked. Liquid bile. He had to eat. He couldn't go without food at this point.

Slade was, unhinged. He wasn't from this universe. Not this one. Nightwing on his world had been forced to love and had given in. Sick. It was …. grooming. He had died by a rapist's hands and had still loved him, claiming he was something more. Richard vomited again, while this time, it was a dry heave.

/

Tipping his head out the door, Richard was dressed in a new top. A new belt and pants while carrying anything he'd deem a weapon from the bathroom. A brush for his messy locks was all he had. Down the hall, the aroma grew more fragrant in each creak of his foot he'd avoided. Cinnamon, apples. Even….some sort of citrus.

The sizzle of starch and a combo of lighter grease; a something that rarely popped from out from his childhood at the manor, the intoxicating smell that permeated the twenty one year old's nostrils. It was the lure and he, the minnow avoiding being dragged to dry land at full force.

Too late , as their faces met. Slade had the earlier tossed away skillet back to being pristine in his hands. The same spatula and that blinking, owlish look on his face as the boy turned his head to look out the window, his hands to the wall. Slade wore a black fitted teen and dark slacks. He was still wearing his patch. Replacing it with black instead of a white one.

"You're up." He said, pausing between sentences. "Sit, breakfast will be ready to eat in a few moments –

"Don't you remember-

The flame at the stove clicked as he made the scare really satisfying. Click, click , click …..

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He'd gladly give this room a toxic bath.

When Dick was quieted, the clicking blessedly, stopped. Slade returned to preparing his hot cakes and did not say a word more. Richard looked at the kitchen tab while his grumbling gut would be the first to croak. He would not eat the man's poison. The rapist's poison should have been rejected on day one.

He had failed to apprehend the guilty, and instead ran away with him. Against his better judgment, in this situation the captor was here. Right and wrong. He had to sit and shut up until he could find a need to be rescued. All about timing. Up high in his tower, the sizzling meal continued to make his stomach churn.

Richard sat, never preparing to enjoy what venom he'd choose to spit out lastly.

/

He and Slade didn't exchange words yet once they were seated and eating together. The captor acted as if any words he spoke would turn into a conflict. The man had a past that was very different from Slade from Jump's past. From what Dick could gather as a detective, the past as Robin was still there. He placed another hot cake onto Dick's plate as the boy looked up over his crossed arms and mouthed the first retort to war.

"No, thanks. I'm m not that hungry."

That, was in error as the man kept adding a second portion. And a third, until five to six pieces littered the plate. "Eat. Or I will lock you up until you do. Every last bite, boy."

The boy's eyes turned to his captor, finally, then back to the plate before pulling his foot down. "Slade, you're not like this…what are you trying to accomplish by keeping me locked up? I'm a hero, I'm him . Why –

"You'd only die earlier than him. Leave and be hurt because I can't help. You wouldn't be Nightwing. Not the same, so eat."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Dick slammed his palm into the table. "I am him! I have fought his enemies, his nemesis. That'd be Blockbuster, right? I figure that out a long time ago….I did everything you blueprinted me to do from your time and, it's not working. Because I can't be your love –

"YOU." Slade drove the serving fork straight into the boy's meal, standing upright as he didn't let go.

"Are not conditioned enough as an adult. You are spoiled, and I have to train you. Now, eat."

" NOT . HUNGRY."

Slade wrenched over and grabbed the kid's arm. His hands moved to one; the fork and the giant piece of hot cake in its teeth, while the merc's dapple shoveled that bite into Dick's jaw with pin point aim and against his lowly wishes. Dick scrambled against the might of his captor. Kicking his feet as he was forced to sit back down who the man held his mouth open, gloveless.

"H- m mnnn…mnf-ffg!!" mm- mff !?"

"Chew it, or choke." Slade massaged his prey's neck, fingers there as if to choke him again. Dick pounded his hand to his chest, the food flying out to his the man in the cheek. He fell back into his chair once more, the man's face anything but empathetic to his pleas. Dick sputtered up his abused throat as he felt still dizzy, still his gut cracked under pressure as he winced. " Hun…S…cough! ….what –

With a hurting core and a bruised esophagus, Slade put down his foot this time. Tempted to hold his rationale in hand according to their deal.

"To your room it is , then."

Dick was mercilessly hoisted by his shirt collar, next thing he knew, he was dragged down the hall and shoved head first into his own bed room. Coughing and choking on that syrup topped sweetness, it was bitter in his mouth as he dry heaved to get it all out into a nearby waste bin. Slade was still outside the door, head lowered as he clicked his tongue and walked off angrily to go clean up the boy's mess. He locked that door as a precaution this time. Robin would finish the food. Even the bits still layered to the sociopath's miserable face.

( I told you….he crazy.)

/

Dick thought he would go crazy. He paced, gut wailing as he found a pillow and held it there. Rocking himself. Was this how trafficked kids felt? Serial rape victims? He was one of them now. No matter how much he wanted his wings back, Slade was holding them behind bulletproof glass. He needed to break the locks. The click of the door had the kid turn to the entrance. His eyes were bloodshot. His gut rumbling out of the acid there, still churning. The cramps like bombs going off one by one.

The battlefield, the oppressor.

"Here."

Slade returned with a mug and a small ramekin with something inside it. "Our world knows pain. How to eradicate it wisely. You would get an ulcer if I let you."

"Let me then." Spat the vigilante. "Let me be another failure in…ugh….your quest to find a perfect soulmate….monster…"

Slade walked in Dick crunching into the bed's headboard as Slade only came to place the cup and the pill in the container onto the boy's nearby nightstand. "Drink. It won't be drugged. It's for your stomach. When you are, better equipped to listen, we will go over some new terms of our deal. You will want to be present. You have a say in what happens." Slade reminded the boy. "This is after all your future as well, little bird. Make some use of what tools you do have."

Slade was done, parting with a steady tone as he locked up again the door. The cup unmoving as Richard took a minute to wait until no signs of the mad doppelganger remained outside his bedroom door.

Richard gazed out at the cup, crawling over on the bed to the stand to see what it was.

Broth. Just. A thick, murky broth. Concentrated? Jason raved about bone broth for a few years. Said it could heal and make you give a decent number two. And…. heal.

Dick looked at the pill in its glossy clear capsule. Not a color from his time. He took a sip. Sitting up, he saw no issue with the drink and his gut seemed to center on that. The pill, however. Ulcer. Right…

He sipped some of the broth, then moved onto the pill while keeping his eyes shut. He chugged the last of it, feeling nausea overtake him before

…...

It…. vanished? He felt at his chest and gut again. No pain... none! He laughed as the medicine did not only act like he suspected, but nanobots were now inside him – healing the start of his ulcer. Justifying what Slade had done by what Slade had given him in an offering of peace. For causing his pain to flourish. Richard dozed off as soon as he really could not find reason to go anyplace else. The door to the room, before long has opened. He was not aware as he dreamed, yet his mind could have sworn it had gotten even warmer…

/

March 22nd; Living Room – Wilson Apartment, Stockholm Sweden

The rest stated:

I hereby give authorization to Slade J Wilson from Earth 45, that my care and environment be specifically chosen by him, that my finances should be in partially my own name and he will have custody should the agreement we have in place fall through.

Requirements of a peaceable resolve are:

• Timeliness, tact and punctuality at all times: When addressing to this, the signer must abide at all times. If the barer states of their terms to visit daily, this must not be broken or punishments will not be withheld. A clear space and a strict mind are a plus for this agreement to hold.

• Being open with one another and the truth must always be kept in confidence; no others outside if this agreement should be allowed to be involved physically or financially in the activities of Nightwing and Deathstroke's affairs.

• The past should be left in the past: The post influences remain locked away to preserve future results and to be sure nothing in the present is changed due to these unforeseen influences. No pasts will be spoken about to any outside if the agreement and if they are, a punishment will be allowed issued to the one responsible for doing so.

• Meals and appearances: The rule here states that an appearance that is both presentable and crucial to the preservation of an ideal life should be guaranteed and mandatory during working hours. In the home, negotiations in clothing choices that are sloppy or casual are allowed only if approved beforehand. Meals should be dietary stapled and not for indulgence purposes. If there is a desire to do so, once again the barer will need to address these issues beforehand with the one in charge of their lifestyle habits.

• Exercise and routine/ work and leisure: The excellence of a proper form are mandatory for this agreement to hold. Should the signer not take to these guidelines, punishments are allowed to be issued. As such, this responsibility falls into the barer to decide the routine of the signer's daily overview/ performances.

• Jobs and occupation: The job of detective and officer, or any jobs required by the barer must be mandatory and upheld. If the signer does not appear to present readiness or willingness by these terms, punishment is allowed to be issued by the barer.

• Companionship and partnership agreement requests/ demands….

Richard skimmed through the last part. He'd bet on his damn mind that it meant exactly what was written.

Has to be clean shaven.

Well behaved.

Amiable.

Physically maintained to perform -

Richard shoved the paper onto the kitchen table as his heart felt ready to pop. "No. You can't do that, last one. Or any of these. It's straight up, abuse. You're a –

"You can't love me if we aren't together. This will make us closer. I know it did for Nightwing."

"Nightwing ran away, didn't he?"

"He came back, they always did at least…one time."

"The second time."

"I got them to stay."

Richard's icy chest turned straight to heartburn. Shit. He needed those drugs….

"Let me, sit " Slade reassured and went to the kitchen with a hum. Making up a glass of water and some soft crackers to wash diwn the pill with. "It will heal by the end of this week. You have to stop fighting. Nightwing finally did."

"First, he died. Second…this is slavery, Slade. I won't agree to these turns."

"Then, do what the second Nightwing did." Slade placed the glass and pill beside Richard as he took the plate of crackers over lastly. "See to my terms with one of your own. I'll allow that. You're no prisoner. You should live me. All of the others lived to keep me close. You, keep trying to deny that part –

"You have to see a doctor…this is all-

"DOCTORS." Slade took up the cracker as he stared at it and stood over the boy. "Did this to me in the first place. Changed my brain, made me so special that it hurts. I can't tell you how much. When you died, I died a little inside." He crunched the crisp bread and chewed pensive, looking over the boy's face. His rather disgusted one. "I don't see a person. K see a machine. Something that's not capable of love. Your logic is flawed. Don't repeat the past. Please."

"Can you really fix me, little bird? No one can so far. I'm changed, I don't know if –

"What do you need to be sent back to your world."

Slade pulled up a napkin from the keeper. His hummed as he tried to remember. "I thought your love would do the trick, I was told it would set me free."

Richard gawked at the answer. A song?

God, damn it…

"You…can't go back." Dick's face was empty of resolve. There was, there had to be a way. "The time piece. We can examine it -

"Unless I don't exist. There is no end here. I don't know what will do the trick. Nothing, but love. Your devotion. My assistance." Slade put the napkin into the trash. His face in longing of some past that was an anomaly as he was. "What about the other Slade. What if there was no void. We could have Constantine-

"I want you here. I like watching you grow up in front of me. It's nostalgic."

"You don't mean that." Dick shook his head. Child abductor. Piece of crap. Monster. Alien force… "If we want to get your…. your Nightwing back, go back in time and spare me this, save him and you if you are right…" Being a nice person to a killer? He was the sick one. He was…. helping a raping, mother fucker in this time to return and hurt others in his time.

"Who then can get us back to your time."

"Galileo's device has such capabilities. You're right."

Dick's head lifted up. "There's a way??" He gasped up, his eyes hoping that the man was actually ok with going back. Getting out of his time. "My only condition I'll add so that you can have no prior…need to sleep at the foot of my bed."

Dick cringed. "It's not a need. Stop it."

Yet…I'll be needing an assistant. I don't want the league." Sicko Slade interrupted. "I want only you. You can fix me." He smiled, smiled and with warm want. Dick shivered. Slade of his era looked for the first time to Richard….

Human?

/

"So, that eye is connected to your time. To all of…our times."

" Nightwing's." Slade corrected while Dick sipped another cup of broth. Slade went over the other minimal concerns with their deal. "The second Nightwing pouted a bit more. He was witty too. You are reluctant to add to these conditions. But, even after my taking you last night, it seemed to ease you back into that mindset. A hero can't die easily, because the fate his world is something my kind would find a blessing if destroyed. A treasure trove for rebirth."

"YOU. Are not permitted to destroy my world." Dick grabbed the paper as Slade snatched at it. The boy's hands under his own. "The soup is very good. I started a batch last night."

"Wait…. you stayed up the entire-

"My self, it requires little sleep. The inferior Slade from your time was too weak. He couldn't make you great. He'd likely let you suffer but never die."

"Who needs to die." Dick deadpanned, earning a chuckled snort from his captor. "Good, I thought you'd be a mouse in my corner. Not a pup wagging its tail. You're livelier. I must be doing good –

"You forced me into this –

"YOUR FUTURE DID."

They both glared at each other. "Kay, so…. let go of the paper now, Slade….?" Dick listed with a head tilt. "You can't play this role all the time."

"You first, little bird. Then I will gladly let you jot down your ideas. Whatever your little heart desires… After I set some more ground rules."

"If you love someone-

"Keep them close?"

"No." Dick sighed and shook his head. His hand to his temple as he pushed back his dark brown locks. "You let them go , like…now."

/

"I could pin you to this chair. Make you sign and shut you in your room to sulk, after."

"Lovers don't tie up their significant…." Dick said through gritted teeth. "I'm not in love with you, yet. In fact, no one would be unless you stop taking shortcuts. There is no way you can change. You were better off as a sitter than a cushion."

"What about a body guard."

"Not that either." Dick frowned, sitting back while tapping his foot against the wooden boards od their apartment. "First, you have your room. We start as room mates and it stays that way. If….if your way works and we can go back, you won't need to keep me around. And- and!" Dick put up his finger as soon as Slade was stirring again. "And….if not. I stay, Nightwing. You look after my well being but my body is mine until I DECIDE." Dick demanded with a low voice. A strong voice that shocked even himself. He had grown up, and he had been too on edge to notice those small changes. In a way, this Slade had seen more than he was hoping to be truthful.

"Nightwing's, knight. I still continue my anonymous work in this world. Funding for you will be provided. We might get to retirn to Blud, as something more than friends."

"THIS IS NOT THAT." Dick threw out his hands to deter the man's advancing eyes. His want for Dick to do…to live wkth and love a killer. "Nightwing is me right now, but you have to give him space. If you don't, he'll just die. Like…an overwatered ficus!"

"A, ficus?"

"Yes." Dick bobbed his head. "A houseplant that will rot abd die if you give it too much….love. you have to learn boundaries or, or I'm not getting replaced again."

"There are other universes."

"You'd die too." Dick knew that pulling the delusional merc into his eyes was a very ugly idea to come yo any sort of fruition. He KNEW. YET.

He kept talking.

"YES. In Bab's info on the Galileo case, we found a really old document that said if the object does not survive one time line, the other tethered to it will vanish as well. So, you can't kill me. Or even smother me. Even if you think you can."

"Because I will vanish."

"Yes."

The two looked into space before Slade let go of the paper. Dick grabbed it and wkth an exhale, he talked once more. "OK, so the part where I do dirty things for you? That's out. I won't go that far unless we are consensual – which includes not being drugged or hammered to do anything. I know." Dick accused the man. "Second. The coming to see me whenever you want? No lovers so no way. If I need you, yes. If you need me, give notice and don't be an enigma. You're already a serial –

"You, are changing all of the rules."

"BECAUSE." Dick grunted out. "You, want Nightwing to dress up like a Barbie doll, but that's not going to fix your time or what you lost. It only ends when I commit suicide or leave and get killed. Every time. I saw my future, those alternates were already aware of what they were up against. You stepped in in quite a lot of those and…you took them over. Well, I'm breaking the cycle." Dick sharply pointed down at the next listed item. "Thirdly, the thing about casual and being professional. That's my choice. You don't control a dress code."

"You would be ugly. I want you always to be pretty-

"AGAIN!" Dick slammed down a palm onto his forehead. "Again, none of that will be good and you'll make me depressed. You can't be a villain here. Not this way."

"What then? Can I sit at your lap and make you happy like a dumb animal? You would gain more –

"Respect." Dick eyed his captor and stated. "You once said trust takes time to build, but can break very easily. You on this world, they knew that getting too close could mean someone getting hurt."

"They are wrong. I got rid of them."

"Whatever. The fourth, moving on." Dick waved for Slade to sot down and pay attention. "My work is my freedom to you, but it's what I fought harder than anyone to do for myself. I do thank you for getting me my dream job….but?" But, you need to back off while I'm on that job. You can act like you are around but you can't interfere wkth any cases I have. If I'm in danger, notify me. Ne truthful. Build trust. Be honest with me."

"Am I not, honest, with you." Slade sounded robotic and ridged as he tried to puzzle over those words. "I told you what I would always do to you. You know what I want. Am I not, honest enough?"

"You, do it for you. Not for others. That is called "empathy."

"Why do I need that." Snorted the merc. "I don't need to be so weepy around a death, so why should I pity others who deserve to die."

"Because, It…keeps my cover. That way Batman won't bother either of us." He was helping the perp. Dick's heart steadied. One scent, the animal would tear his throat out. "I will stay as a roommate but I also require my own safe house to do more work."

"Your gear is made by my staff. By those I hired to get your career started. You don't need to work as hard."

"I don't take advantage. I never did like you think."

"Wrong."

"I'm right, and for once you can decide that." Dick countered. "IF you want him back, him or me, you have to work with me. "

"IF I say this is unfair –

"We sit down here, like this. Just like how we are." Dick sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, defiant but assured. "You do this for me, I give you back your…love. You can't fight, you cab find a way back. I'm here AND I won't go anywhere until we fix this. Until I help you. Not, fix you "

One thing Dick had learned was correcting psychos in Arkham was pointless. You had to get on their good side. Make them trust you.

Slade was mirroring that same exact appearance, of an inmate straight out of Arkham.

"Slade, who were those doctors who messed with your brain, again…"

He had a feeling he'd already deduced the answer.

PART ONE – I MAY MAKE THIS A MINI SERIES CAUSE IT AIN'T OVER. FIND OUT IN PART TWO.