Work Text:
Slade wasn’t ashamed to admit he had a soft spot for Richard Grayson.
People assumed that love or fondness was a weakness, but it wasn’t. They assumed that because Slade was a mercenary, stoic and deadly, he himself would cut ties off from people in his life in a bid to prevent them from being used against him. But that wasn’t the case.
At any moment someone could be taken from you. Be it malicious murder or tragic accident, a unavoidable illness or a natural disaster. The hands of fate spun on their own accord, death came for us all and nothing you could do would change it.
Slade believed his destiny was already written for him. That he was simply going down a path that had already been laid out. Predetermined at birth, perhaps even at the dawn of time itself. Free will was an illusion, every action, every choice he made was already pre-programmed in his own inevitable future. And because he believed this, he believed the same to be true for every person on this and other Earths. Maybe it was simply a belief he told himself when he first started killing in the army, in a desperate attempt to assuage his own guilt at taking a life. It eased his mind to believe that these men were always meant to die by his hand. And, If you tell yourself something enough times it becomes fact, at least in your own mind.
So Slade didn’t sequester himself away from his children or the few friends he had. Not out of fear that his proximity would only bring their own doom. His distance only ever came from his tunnel vision or, if Adeline were to be believed, his inability for empathy and his never ending “blood-lust”. That distance had grown for years, decades even, and was something that he was desperately trying to close.
With Dick Grayson that distance was nonexistent.
The boy had been on DeathStrokes radar since he had first hit Gotham streets. Mostly as a morbid curiosity opposed to any actual threat. DeathStroke had no qualms with murder, torture, and controlled chaos, but he had been both impressed and disgusted that The Batman had actually put a child soldier on the front-lines with him. (He had been even more surprised when hero after hero began churning out children to fight their wars. And how the public had applauded the league and their sidekicks for their bravery instead of condemning them for their neglectful and downright abusive behavior).
That morbid curiosity had turned into annoyance when Robin flew the nest and created the Titans. Slade had to admit the group had grained his reluctant respect with each of his contracts they sabotaged, each assassination thwarted. And Robin had proved to be a formidable adversary, an impressive feat which drew Slades notice.
Through a failed apprenticeship, biting words and more than each of their fair share of injuries Slade knew he had earned Dicks begrudging respect as well. The boy turned into a man, Robin into Nightwing, Titans Tower into Bludhaven rooftops. And somewhere along the way insults became amicable jests, punches were pulled, and fights became alliances.
At some point Dick had weaseled his way into Slade’s heart, sitting neatly beside Rose and Joey as someone to protect. But different then them in the sense that Slade knew he could trust Grayson to have his back. Though he trusted his children, he would never call on them for help as he would Grayson.
So when he heard about the death of the second Robin, blown up by the Joker at the ripe age of fifteen, his mind instantly went to Nightwing. The man had proven to have a big heart and though Slade didn’t think that made him weak, he knew that regardless of his own opinion on death and fate Grayson would be crushed. He had known as soon as the heroes started using children to their benefit there would be many deaths, but that didn’t mean he relished in it.
He didn’t drop his on-going overseas contract and run off first thing to Bludhaven. Didn’t even call the boy as he knew that the Titans were off on some long space mission and it was likely Dick didn’t even know what happened.
Instead he worked and he waited.
Waited two months for the go ahead from his employer to kill his target and end his mission.
Waited a week after that to make sure the job was done and loose ends were tied before packing up his things and flying back to the states.
Waited another two weeks after that for word of the Titans return, before making his way to Gotham's sister city.
And waited patiently on the rooftop of Nightwing’s apartment for three nights before the man came stumbling home from Gotham.
That was the first sign that something was wrong. Because never, not once, had Slade ever seen Nightwing stumble .
Though to be fair, it was not Nightwing he had seen swinging on to the roof but Dick Grayson. Had bowed low with his dark unruly hair covering his face. A wrinkled white button down shirt loosely tucked into light wash jeans adorned his body instead of his usual skintight black and blue garb. A black utility belt was slung over his shoulder and he shoved his grapple gun into his back pocket when he landed. It seemed that wherever he came from he had left in a rush, desperate enough to get away that he risked his identity to do so.
He didn’t look up when he landed but Slade knew he saw him. The line of his shoulder was held in tense anticipation, as though he was expecting a fight. He coiled his arms tightly together, crossing them in front of his chest in a defensive move Slade had never seen on him. His stance lacked any of the confidence it usually held, and instead seemed flighty, as though Dick desperately wanted to run away.
Vulnerable . Slades mind supplied. Dick Grayson looked vulnerable, as though one strong wind could blow him over.
“Hey kid.” The words were soft but Slade still noticed Dick flinch at the sound of them. He felt his brow furrow in surprise but forced it to smooth out. He himself had also come out of uniform leaving his face bare and on display. He didn’t know if emotion would help or hurt whatever was wrong with the other man. Not that it mattered as Dick still refused to look up at him. Head turned pointedly to the ground.
“What do you want Slade?” Exhaustion came through the quiet question. As though Dick simply didn’t have the energy to deal with anything at the moment. As though it took all of Dicks willpower to even speak to him.
“I heard about your brother.” Dick flinched again at the words and edged towards the building ledge, as though he wanted to flee. Slade continued. “I’m sorry Grayson, he was a good kid.” Dick took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Why are you here Slade?” Slade frowned again, taking a step forward he froze when Dick flinched again. The man trembled slightly at the movement. “I don’t know what you want from me or why you care about Jay or what you're doing in Bludhaven. But if you're looking for a fight I’m not interested. And if you're looking for information I don’t have any. So please just leave me alone.” There was something broken in his voice, something incredibly desperate. Something that told Slade that more than just grief was hurting the boy. That Dick Grayson was one wrong word away from crumbling apart. And that something scared Slade more than he cared to admit. And despite what Adeline thought Slade was capable of compassion, when he cared enough to express it.
“I’m not looking for anything, kid. I just wanted to check up on you.” A quiet unamused huff of laughter came from Dicks lips and for a moment that two just stood there. Until finally Dick lifted his head and met Slade’s gaze.
“Slade… I’m tired.”
Dicks eyes were glistening, not with tears but with pure exhaustion. Glassy and red and dazed as though the man had been stumbling around in a sleepless haze for days. The tenseness of his body remained but it shook from the strain. As though if he relaxed even an inch he would collapse boneless to the ground with no strength to pick himself back up. But the most striking thing was the bruise that crawled up the side of his left jaw. It was a deep purple, telling Slade it was only a day or two old. And it spanned across his check to right under his eye. Whoever had punched him had been big, and had wanted it to hurt.
“One hell of a shiner.” That hadn’t been the thing to say, as Dick turned his gaze downwards again and took another step back.
“I deserved it.” Slade’s mind went black for a moment at the words before pure fury erupted from his chest.
Dick was in his civilian clothes. Dick had only just come back from Space and that bruise was too new to have come from the Titans mission. Dick had just come back from Gotham. Dick was holding himself like Slades Mother once had. Arms stretched across her body as though to hold herself together, as his Father slammed the living room door shut behind him. Broken glass littering the floor, bruises littering his Mother, and the echoes of a screaming fury bouncing around in Slades head.
“No Richard. You didn’t.” Dick shook his head.
“Yes I did. I pushed him, I shouldn’t have-”
“I don’t give a damn what you said to the Bat, you don’t hit your family. No matter what.” Dick didn’t seem surprised that Slade knew. He hadn’t been hiding it, not really.
“I blamed him…. For Jason. I was just… so angry . He died months ago Slade, months ago. And Bruce didn’t tell me a thing. I had to find out from a mission report. I missed his funeral. I missed…” Dick took another deep breath as he ran a hand through his long dark hair, pulling at it slightly in frustration. “Jay called me before he died, he left me voicemails asking for my help and I wasn’t there. And I blamed Bruce but it was my fault . It was my fault for not being there… And I guess Bruce agreed.” Dick shook his head and let out another unamused laugh. “He kicked me out again… He keeps doing that but I get the feeling that this time it’ll stick.”
Slade closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Willing away his anger as it was not needed right now. He was not a Saint, he was not a hero or even a good man. But he loved his children. Loved them more than anything else in this world. And while he had done things that hurt them in the past. He had never hurt them . The heroes were hypocrites, some of the worst ones in Slades opinion. And he wanted nothing more to destroy each and everyone of them.
But that wouldn’t help Dick.
Opening his eyes he moved closer to the boy, slowly so as not to frighten him, and reaching out a hand he placed it gently on his shoulder. Waiting a moment until Dick once again lifted his head to look at him.
“He was wrong. You’re not to blame for this, Joker is. And frankly so is the Bat for putting a kid on the front-lines in the first place.” Dick went to argue but Slade silenced him with a look. “I know you think you chose this life, but it was chosen for you. When you were too young to realize that it was wrong. But that's not what we're talking about right now.” Gently he placed his hand on Dicks jaw and kept his gaze fixated on him. As though to drive home his next words. “You don’t hit family. Not ever . You get me kid?” Dick averted his gaze, and though Slade could tell he didn’t believe him yet, he still nodded.
“Yeah. I get you.” Slade held Dicks chin for a moment before relinquishing his hold. Squeezing his shoulder firmly once more he let go and turned his back on the man. Making his way to the edge of the roof he pulled out his own grapple and looked back at Dick with a raised eyebrow.
“You coming Grayson?” Dick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Coming?” Slade rolled his eyes, though there was no real annoyance in the action.
“Rose would kill me if I left you here looking like a kicked puppy. Bludhaven can handle a few more weeks without its hero.” Dick still looked confused but he made his way over to Slade regardless.
“You want me to come with you?” There was a quiet hope in the words that caused Slade’s face to soften a fraction. So unused to the uncertainty coming from the usually confident man.
“You’re family Grayson. Whether you like it or not you're stuck with us.” A little bit of the tension slid from Dick’s body, though he still held himself tightly. After a moment a small nearly imperceptible smirk crossed his face.
“Careful Slade, you keep this up and people might think you actually have a heart.” Slade rolled his eyes again but secretly was happy to see a fraction of the familiar snark from the bird.
“Perish the thought.”