Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’ll make a deal with you, Slade. I’ll stay away from Rose from now on if you and your cronies stay away from my city. You let one member of your organization meddle with Bludhaven and I’ll make sure your daughter is forever poisoned by chronic idealism. Bludhaven is off-limits, do you understand? It’s a no-fly zone.”

If the kid was nothing else, he was ambitious to a fault, but that was nothing new. Slade could reevaluate now that he knew his gameplan, trace Grayson’s movements as a mob enforcer and how they fit into this idea of his.

Anger flashed through him. Grayson had thought he’d play Slade and Rose as easily as he’d played those mobsters—short-sighted street criminals that failed to realize that Grayson was one of the most dangerous pieces on the board.

Slade kept his eye and sword trained on Grayson, but when he spoke, it was to Rose.

"He's telling you that he's going to leave you. Are you going to let him abandon you or are you going to help me keep him here?"

Slade couldn’t see Rose’s reaction physically, it was in his blindspot, but he could hear the creak of her armor as she shifted, unsettled. He had trained her out of that, but the habit still came out at moments of unease. He was confident in her read of her mental state, but Grayson was always a wild card. His move here would determine the success of this gambit.

“Rose,” Grayson said, attention–almost– fully on her. “He’s trying to use you.” All according to plan.

“Oh?” Slade said, stepping closer to him. “And you’re not? See, I thought you were trying to use her to get to me.”

Now, he could keep Rose and Grayson both within his scope. Rose was looking between the two of them with growing conflict, emotions flashed on her face in turn. Hesitation: bad. Fear: neutral. Guilt: good. Hurt predominated and Slade wondered which of them was most responsible.

“Is… is that true, Renegade?” Rose’s need to ask him for clarification rankled, but was quite acceptable here. Her voice was small and vulnerable in a way he hadn’t heard in a while. Slade didn’t bother feeling guilty, this would be good for her. “I thought you cared about me.”

“Of course I care about you, Rose.” Grayson’s affection and vulnerability was palpable in his voice. Slade wouldn’t even need to twist the knife himself, Rose would do it for him.

“Then why would you leave me with him?” Rose was lucky Slade chose not to take her seriously. Rose didn’t want to leave him, she would just need a reminder– later though. Slade’s focus had to be on Grayson here, preventing him from slipping out of their net. Slade didn’t need to see his face to know that the kid was grasping for straws, he didn’t have a good answer. Grayson had said he wasn’t a hero now, and it wasn’t particularly heroic to give up on a kid because of who their father was. Slade wouldn’t have minded Grayson’s turn for the worse, but this was his daughter they were talking about. He could read Rose’s revelation of Grayson’s guilt in her face. It was time.

Slade let his voice drop into the lower pitch that he’d conditioned Rose to respond to. “Ravager, subdue!”

Ravager was in motion before Rose had even processed the order. Grayson, distracted by his own guilt and the sudden flurry of motion as Rose barreled into him, didn’t have the millisecond it took to evade Slade’s own blow as he brought the hilt of his sword down on his head. Slade watched the kid drop to the ground with a grin of satisfaction hidden behind his mask.

Rose, standing over Grayson’s unconscious body, turned to Slade, no longer torn between the two authority figures in the room. She’d fall in line now.

“What do we do now?”

“We keep him, princess. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

…

Dick woke up. Without visibly tensing and reacting, he started running the usual post-unconsciousness checks that Batman had trained into him. His suit was gone and his mask was off, which was concerning, but he was relatively uninjured beyond the pain in his head– possible concussion. The room was completely silent. Oddly silent, actually; no human movement, no street noise, just a faint whirr of air buzzing through vents.

He opened his eyes and found himself in a room, windowless and iron-walled. It’d be little more than a cell, were it not for the bed, dresser and desk– all bolted to the floor. The dresser was full of clothes all in his size, which was the kind of disturbing attention to detail that he expected of only a few men. He was in a t-shirt and sweatpants that he guessed were from that dresser, having been stripped of his suit and redressed in his sleep.

Dick had been so close to getting everyone out of his city, heroes and villains alike. Blüdhaven could have finally had a chance without grudge matches and assassins tearing the city apart on a daily basis. He had underestimated Deathstroke here, but underestimated what? Dick’s hardwon knowledge kept him from underestimating Slade’s skills and prowess–that’s how you ended up dead. This was something else. It wasn’t his love for Rose he underestimated– Slade’s only way of showing his kids that he cared about them was targeted murder. Was Deathstroke that petty and that mad about being outplayed? Not that, Dick had to acknowledge, he was in fact outplayed, given that Dick was taken captive.

Dick was interrupted from his thoughts by the man himself opening the door. There had been no indication that the door was being unlocked from the outside and Dick added soundproofing to his mental list of characteristics of the cell. Slade stood in the doorway, unarmored but no less of a threat. He ran the calculations briefly in his head, one entrance, blocked by an on-guard enhanced assailant, no weapons on hand.

“Hey, kid.” He shut the door behind him,

“Where are we, Slade?” Dick demanded.

“Your precious Blüdhaven, of course.” Slade was apparently feeling playful. Dick could work with that. It made him more likely to let something slip, even if it was through jibes.

“Why the cell, Slade? If you wanted to keep me away from your daughter, it’s not like you to choose the non-lethal option.”

Slade took a couple steps towards him. Dick didn’t want to show fear, so stepping back was out and he didn’t have anywhere else he could go regardless. No matter how many times Dick had fought Deathstroke, there was always this prey-like fear that kicked in when he was within a certain distance of him. The key to fighting Deathstroke was to keep him at arm's length, his super strength could do too much at close range, and to always keep multiple escape routes empty. Dick had none and Slade was within reach now. Dick looked up at him defiantly, hoping he could hide the jackrabbit of his pulse when cornered by a predator.

Not long after the Terra incident, Dick had dug through servers and paper file repositories in secret government sub-basements, looking to understand what made Slade Slade. The service record was easy to find, the records of the experiment much less so. Dick had ended up tracking it down in a limestone cave storage facility for government documents in the Allegheny mountains, full of documents from the Vietnam War era the government didn’t want getting out. The records, when he found them, weren’t reliable; Slade had clearly allowed the Army to underestimate the benefits of the experiment.

The records said that Slade’s enhanced hearing could not hear human heartbeats, but Dick had to wonder, especially when Slade was looking at him like he could see every weakness, whether that was true.

“Oh, who says I want to keep you away from my daughter?” he said with his trademarked condescending menace. “Now, sit on the bed.”

Dick tensed, ready to resist on principle. Slade, whose eye missed nothing, chuckled lowly. “Relax, kid. I’m going to check out that head injury of yours.”

“You mean the one you gave me?” Dick retorted, but he complied regardless. The change in their respective positions gave Slade even more of an advantage when it came to a confrontation.

Slade, now towering over him, didn’t hesitate to press his advantage, grabbing his chin to force Dick to look up to him. Slade flashed a pen light in his eyes. Dick, well-used to concussion examinations, submitted to the examination without protest.

Dick followed his instructions and flushed at Slade’s gruff “good boy.” Dick opened his mouth to protest before Slade prodded the bump on its head and the sharp burst of pain distracted him.

“Looks fine, I know you’re no stranger to head injuries. Let me know about any concussion symptoms.”

“Let me go, Slade, then any symptoms won’t be your problem.”

“It’s not that easy, kid,” he said, clasping Dick’s shoulder. Dick attempted to shrug him off, but Slade’s grip just tightened. After a second of painful grip, Slade let his shoulder go and took a step back. “You wanted to make a deal, let’s make a deal.”

“I want to leave.” Dick bounced to his feet, like he was going to run for the door, but just stood there opposite Slade, waiting to see what he’d say next.

“And you can. You can walk out that door right now. And if you have turned your back on being a hero like you claimed, the consequences won’t bother you.”

“What consequences.” His voice was flat, without an ounce of question to be found. Dick distantly observed that he sounded like Batman.

“I’ll make a deal with you. You stay here with Rose and I, and I’ll keep my ‘cronies’ out of the city. You get what you wanted: a Blüdhaven undisturbed by heroes or villains.”

“And?”

“That not enough for you? It sounds a lot like what you offered me.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Well, if you keep to the terms of the deal, that’s it. If you leave–or if Rose leaves, with or without you–I can assure you that I will make what Blockbuster did look like child’s play.”

A cold dread spilled over him. Slade always kept to his word. He’d do it. Dick’s heartbeat ratcheted up again, an adrenaline-fueled response to a threat that he couldn’t fight. If he fought and Slade lived, he would carry out that threat. Just like Blockbuster.

Dick forced himself to breathe. He couldn’t fight this head-on. If he calmed down and thought rationally, there would be a way out.

“How do you expect me to keep Rose in line?”

“I expect you to make her want to stay. Surely you can handle one sixteen-year-old girl.”

“No, I think handling teenage girls is your specialty.” When the shot didn’t land, Dick continued, wanting to make it hurt. “But you’re even better at alienating your family, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk, Grayson. Didn’t Daddy Bats kick you out once he found out what you did?”

“Slade,” Dick hissed.

“Let me make myself clear, Grayson.” The restrained anger in Slade’s voice screamed danger and Dick met his eye in order to read what he could from him. Once their eyes met, Dick felt pulled in, helpless to stop him as he continued. “If you leave without permission or attempt to contact one of your hero friends, I’ll go onto the streets of Blüdhaven and kill enough civilians to rival My Lai. And if necessary, I’ll do it again. And again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” he said hoarsely, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Slade’s eye tracked the movement. Dick knew that Slade enjoyed his discomfort, enjoyed it when Dick conceded, and he was relishing this moment.

“Good. Then do we have a deal?”

Dick’s mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this. Once he gave his word, Deathstroke would make him keep it.

“What about Blüdhaven, the city, Sophia, I need to be there.” Dick hesitated to show his hand for Slade to take advantage of, but he clearly already knew.

“Sounds to me like you’re not setting up a city that doesn’t need heroes or villains, you’re setting up a city that needs you.” The anger had dropped from his voice and Slade’s brand of mocking condescension was back, while the undertone of assured violence remained constant.

“I wouldn’t expect you of all people to understand how to help people,” Dick shot back, but his heart wasn’t in it. Dick had failed the city so many times and he was failing it again.

“Fine, kid. We can negotiate separately for my permission for you to play hero in your shithole of a city,” Slade taunted. More than his tone, Dick resented the casual control over him that this implied, and hated that he wasn’t wrong.

“Negotiate with what? You’re already getting everything you want.”

“Oh, kid, you don’t know the half of what I want.”

Chapter Text

After Dick had agreed, seeing no other choice, Slade had left the room, ordering him to get some food and to talk to Rose sooner rather than later. Dick was very aware that he hadn’t agreed to obey Slade as part of their deal, only to stay with him and Rose, but didn’t see the point of disobeying at this juncture. He needed to scout their location and figure out what all he was dealing with. The compound, since he certainly wasn’t going to call it a house, unlike the place he had been staying with Slade and Rose prior, was unremarkable. The same metal walls and lack of windows pervaded throughout. Knowing Slade’s foresight and the fact that they had just fought Superman, he guessed that they were lined with lead.

He found a couple locked doors that he could have gotten into if he had the right tools before he found a kitchen and break room. He decided against further poking around at this moment; Slade no doubt had his guard up and was likely surveilling him.

After a quick look in the fridge, Dick started scrambling some eggs on the stove, an easy high-protein meal. It wasn’t long before he felt eyes on him,

“Hey Rose,” he said, not looking up at her and keeping his tone light and easy.

“Hey.” She edged into the room, usual brash confidence gone. Dick watched her out of the corner of his eye, focused on cracking eggs into the pan. Her white eye-patch was back in place; Dick hoped that Slade had taken the kryptonite eye out.

“Do you want some eggs?”

“I already ate.”

“Okay.” Dick paused as he cracked the last egg and started to scramble it with the chopsticks he found in a drawer. He watched her face. She was clearly– and reasonably, given the circumstances– troubled by something, and it’d be easiest if they could hash it out now. “I don’t know if your dad’s talked to you yet or not, but I’m going to be staying here with you for now. I don’t know if we’ll be able to do missions like we were, but I’m sure Slade’s got a setup around here somewhere so we’ll be able to keep training–”

“Are you mad at me?” She interrupted him, words coming out half-confrontational and half-rushed, like she had a deadline to say it. This was familiar, Dick had talked with many teens during his time with the Titans.

“No, Rose, I’m not mad at you.” That was true; he didn’t blame Rose for doing what her father told her.

“Are you mad at Dad, then?” Rose didn’t sound relieved.

“Your dad and I have talked. Like I said, I’m going to stay here for a while.” Dick neatly avoided answering the question. He kept his voice even and matter-of-fact, not wanting to let any of that on to Rose. Dick needed to keep a lid on his emotions this time. Last time, he was too busy dealing with Slade– being furious with Slade– to consider Rose’s possible response.

“But you don’t want to be here.” It was clear that Rose was feeling abandoned. Dick hadn’t thought that she’d gotten attached to him in the few weeks they’d been working together. He supposed it would make sense that, given that the only other person in her life was Deathstroke the Terminator, she’d get attached to anyone else. It was possible that the only other people Rose had any opportunity to talk to were her targets.

“It’s complicated, Rose. I have Blüdhaven to protect. There’s lots of people’s lives that depend on me.”

Dick wasn’t sure exactly what Slade had told her about their situation, but the requirement that Dick keep Rose here haunted him. He couldn’t tell her the truth– that he was here under duress– but nor did he want to lie to her. Teenagers were experts at seeing through pacifying bullshit. She wouldn’t believe him if he abruptly reversed course and told her that he wanted to stay.

“What, like Sophia?” she asked, scorn coloring her tone. She sat down at the breakfast bar across from the stove. Dick kept a surreptitious eye on her as he scrambled the eggs.

“Yes, like Sophia.”

“Why her? Why is she so important?” Rose raised her voice, almost yelling.

“I care about Sophia, but I also care about every single person who lives in my city. And I care about you too, Rose.” Dick didn’t know if Rose was aware of why she was so enraged by Sophia, but regardless, tried to redirect her away from the topic.

“But you were going to leave me behind. And you wanted to protect Sophia so bad.” Her voice wobbled a bit like she was going to cry. Dick turned away from the stove and made eye contact with her now as he replied.

“Do you need to be protected, Rose? I thought you wanted to be with your dad.”

“I do! I want to be with him. But you think my dad is a bad guy. You wanted Sophia away from him.” On some level, Rose was a scared girl who wanted to know that everything was okay and that her dad loved her. On some level, Dick mused, they were all scared children who wanted to know that things were alright and that someone loved them. On some level, Dick was the scared boy who just wanted to know his parents were alive to love him.

“Your dad doesn’t value most people’s lives very highly. He does value yours and a couple of others. Sophia was in a much higher degree of danger from him than you would be.” Dick turned back to the stove, adding some spices and giving Rose a chance to process. There were a couple choked breaths behind him. Dick wanted to go over there and give her a hug, but didn’t think she would respond well to it.

“If I’m–if I’m bad because my dad is bad, then why isn’t Sophia? Her dad’s a mobster.” Maybe an abrupt change of topic, but Dick could see the emotional trail that followed those decisions. Rose was beginning to realize that what her father did wasn’t right and was struggling with what that would mean for her own actions. Tears were falling down one cheek now, and Dick passed her a paper towel. He slid the eggs, a little undercooked, off the hot burner and hopped up on the kitchen island, far enough from her to give her space, but close enough that the comfort was there.

“Rose, I never said that you were bad, or that your father was. I never said that Sophia was good either. Things aren’t that simple. People are just people.” At one point, Dick honestly believed that; he could remember talking to Raven about her father, about what people were by birth and by their actions, and about what that meant for morality. Now, Dick wasn’t sure what he believed. Still, the words came with the ease of long practice.

“But you wanted to protect her from me.”

“You said multiple times that you wanted me to hurt her, Rose. If I thought you would hurt Sophia, it’s because I was listening to what you were saying.” In years, Dick wasn’t far from being a teen himself, but emotionally, he felt like light-years separated them. Teens wanted all of the autonomy of adulthood, but none of the responsibility. Rose wanted to hurt Sophia, wanted to threaten to hurt Sophia, without having to face what that actually meant.

“But you think I’m dangerous?” She didn’t look dangerous now; with her voice a little nasally and a paper towel held up to her face, she looked like any other teenage girl having a rough time.

“Yes, Rose, I do. I think you are dangerous. And I think that you want people to think that you’re dangerous. But Rose, I’m dangerous too. I may not have enhancements, but I have the strength and skill to hurt people, very badly if I chose to. And I want people to think I’m dangerous, I want people to know that I could hurt them if I chose to. And that’s what it comes down to: our choices. You chose to be Ravager. I chose to be Robin, Nightwing, Renegade. We chose this.”

“And Sophia didn’t?” Rose was clearly fixated on Sophia, despite Dick’s attempts to redirect. A bit of anger had found its way back in her voice now. Dick remembered Huntress’ insinuation that both girls had a crush on him, and while that might be true, it wasn’t just jealousy. Rose wanted love and support and approval; Dick was no stranger to wanting those same things from a mentor figure.

“Yes, she didn’t. I can understand it if you feel upset about the ways that I treated you and Sophia differently. Sophia did need more protection from me, I know that you can handle yourself in a fight. Her uncle asked me to take care of her, I was just trying to do that.”

“My dad asked you to take care of me,” she said, petulantly and possessively.

“Yes, he did. And I will take care of you. But you also have your dad. Sophia’s mom died in front of her, her dad’s arrested, her uncle is on the run. She doesn’t have anyone else right now. Just me, that’s why I wanted to protect her and keep her out of this.”

“My mom died in front of me.”

“I didn’t know that, Rose, I’m sorry that happened.” Dick paused while he considered if this was the right tact for this conversation. “My parents died in front of me too.”

“Were they murdered?”

“Yes. I wanted to get justice for my parents. And stop any other children from losing their parents. That’s why I became Robin.”

“That sounds impossible.”

“Maybe so.” Either it was an impossible task or Dick just wasn’t good enough to do it, or both. Not only was Rose’s mom dying evidence that horrible senseless things continued to happen around the world, but Sophia’s mom died on his watch. A woman watched her boyfriend beaten by him and reported to the cops. Those cops, from the department that Dick thought that he had successfully cleansed of corruption, shot an unarmed woman in her home in front of her daughter. All of it his fault.

Rose interrupted his thoughts with another question.

“Then why do it? If you can’t win, there’s no point.”

“It’s not about winning, it’s about saving people. If I can save one person, then that’s one person saved. I might not be able to save everyone, but I can try to save as many people as I can.” From Deathstroke, at least; he wouldn’t be saving anyone else while trapped here.

“If you want me to leave my dad and become a hero or whatever, why were you going to leave me with him?”

“It has to be your choice, Rose. If I took you away by force, and you wanted to come back to him, I wouldn’t be able to stop you.” Dick watched her preen a bit at the compliment to her skills.

“I’ve already made a choice, I’ve become Ravager.” The bridge she burned with the Titans and her missing eye hung in the air between them.

“That’s the thing about choices, kiddo. You have to keep making them. You can decide that you want to keep being Ravager, or that you don’t want to be Ravager anymore, but it has to be your choice. And you can always choose to do something different.”

“And you think I should stop.”

“I can’t make these decisions for you, it has to be your choice.”

“Sure, whatever. But you think I should leave my dad and become a hero like you, right?”

“It’s not that simple, Rose. I’m staying here too. And I’m not really a hero right now either.”

“Yeah, I guess.” She was quiet for a couple moments and Dick took the opportunity to slide off the counter and inspect the eggs going cold on the stove. When she spoke, it seemed to indicate that this conversation was over for now. “Should I keep calling you Renegade, or call you Nightwing? Since you weren’t ever really Renegade.”

“Why don’t you just call me Dick.” He elaborated when she scrunched up her nose in response. “It’s short for Richard.” Her nose scrunched up further.

“Your name is Richard?”

…

Barbara wasn’t used to seeing Superman in person, but supposed that, with her recent relocation to Metropolis, it was something that she should get used to. He didn’t seem used to dealing with her, either; there was a little awkwardness more characteristic of Clark Kent than Superman. She had the sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t used to talking with wheelchair users and, as a good Midwestern boy, was internally debating the proper etiquette. If he asked outright, she’d answer, but in the meantime, she’d just roll her eyes and ignore it.

“Did you bring the glove that he was wearing?” Speaking of rolling her eyes, she had no idea what Dick thought he was doing, fighting Superman, pretending to have changed sides. Beyond knowing Deathstroke was involved, the glove that he had been wearing that masked his heartbeat was their only lead.

Clark passed it over, and Barbara turned it inside out and started investigating the components.

“What are you hoping to find?”

“Mostly, I’m wondering whether Dick or Deathstroke built this. If it was Dick, he could have either left a message, or it might indicate something about whatever mess he’s in.”

“What do you think it could tell you?” No condescension, just a genuine request to hear her thoughts.

“If Dick built it, then he thought for whatever reason that he needed to make you think that he was on their side. It could be that he wanted your reactions to be accurate, indicating that he was under suspicion or surveillance.” And that he didn’t trust your skills at subterfuge, she didn’t say aloud. “If Deathstroke built it, he wanted you to think that Dick really had changed sides, and thus, Deathstroke was certain that he hadn’t.”

“Indicating that Dick’s cover was blown?”

“Maybe.” She examined the mechanical parts sewed into the lining under a microscope. “But the problem here is that we don’t know what Dick was doing. We don’t know what his cover was or what he’s trying to do.” She trailed off as she looked at the components.

“It has to be something with the Society, then.” In a refreshing change of pace from the usual hovering Bats, Clark wasn’t trying to look over her shoulder or get a better look at what she was doing.

“Yes, I agree.” Barbara sighed and exasperation crept into her voice as she continued. “But of course, we have no idea what he’s doing, because of course, he didn’t tell anyone.”

“You think Deathstroke knows his identity, then?”

“He’s known for a while, a couple years, I think. You’d have to ask the Titans if you want to know more. Dick just told us not to worry and that Deathstroke wouldn’t tell anyone else. Which is as per usual, absolutely infuriating, but apparently, Deathstroke hasn’t told, so who knows.”

Clark hummed in response and they sat in silence as Barbara focused on her work.

“On initial review, this doesn’t look like something that Dick would make,” she said after a couple minutes had passed.

“So you think it’s Deathstroke’s?”

“I’m not willing to discount any possibility right now. This is an extremely inexact analysis. I know the kind of components that Dick buys and how he thinks, but it’s very possible that he built it using someone else’s supplies or schematics. We can’t discount the possibility that a third party built it, either.”

“So we don’t know much,” Clark mused, with disappointment but not judgment.

“No. If there’s any kind of message here, I’ll find it, but barring that, I can only make an educated guess.”

“I’m worried. Dick wasn’t acting like himself today.”

“I’m worried, too,” Barbara sighed. “But we all know that he’s a good actor when he needs to be. He’s gone undercover before.”

“Knowing that doesn’t make it easier to see him like that. Or to know he’s in danger. I could have grabbed him then. I could still track him down and we could talk with him.”

“We don’t know what he’s doing. If his cover isn’t already broken, that would expose him.”

“If he’s not exposed already.”

“Clark, he had the opportunity to communicate with you. I’m sure he could have thought of half a dozen ways to communicate subtly that he needed an extraction. Same with Roy, I know the Titans had all kinds of code words and trigger phrases. He didn’t use them. I don’t like this situation any more than you do, but Dick had opportunities to tell us that he needs help.”

“Dick’s not good at asking for help when he needs it, though.”

“Don’t I know it. But, Clark, Dick’s an adult, he’s a capable hero, he’s not going to jeopardize a mission, especially one related to the Society, because he doesn’t want to ask for help. I know Dick has a tendency to self-isolate when he’s upset, and I know he’s upset right now. That said, intervening is going to put him in more danger. We’ll do what we can from here, monitor for any communication or sightings. We have to trust that he knows what he’s doing. And we have to keep our focus on where it’s most needed.”

“On Lex and the Society,” Clark agreed.

“Yes, I genuinely think that that’s the best way we can help him. Once we take down the Society, it’s likely that he won’t need to be undercover anymore. I bet he’s counting on us to approach it from our end.”