Slade
Series: Endless Spiral
Chapter Two: Misconstrued
Pairing[s]: Slade/Nightwing, Conner/Tim, Clark/Bruce
Rating: It's still all innuendo and violence... PG13 to be safe...
by: xxdeathstrokexx (aka- sladexrobin )
dedicated to: katarik, who has given me even more fodder for my Slade!angst muse... because I needed more... ^__^;
***
"Calm down, Star... I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation..." Gar said, not sounding very convinced of that himself.
"That's the problem..." Tim muttered from his seat by the window, laptop closed for once. "From what I know of Slade... this is perfectly reasonable."
Starfire muttered a curse in Tamaranean and Gar jumped up in front of Tim, his hands raised placatingly.
"Whoa there, Star..." He glanced over his shoulder at Tim. "You aren't really helping, man."
"Sorry..." Tim said unapologetically. "But this wasn't exactly unexpected."
Gar waved Starfire back again, rather surprised that she hadn't started blasting yet.
"Yeah, well... cooperating with Slade to save the world is one thing, but this..." Gar grimaced and shook his head. "What does Batman have to say about it?"
Tim stared out the rain darkened window.
"Nothing... we haven't talked about it."
Gar transformed into a bull.
Tim watched his reflection for a long moment before looking at Gar.
"He knows something... but he's not sharing."
"That's new." Conner said, coming down the stairs. Tim perked up considerably at the sight of him.
"Any news?"
Conner shook his head, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
"They don't call it the Fortress of Solitude for nothing... But I think he knows something's going on. Something big. And he's not doing anything about it..."
Gar snorted and changed back to human form.
"Didn't really expect him to..."
Conner shrugged, his eyes still on Tim.
"No luck with Batman either, huh?" He asked, and Tim simply shook his head. "Figures... Look, why don't we just ask Nightwing what's going on? No one else is gonna tell us squat."
Gar rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Bart seemingly appeared on the arm of the couch, swinging his feet.
"You know, it's no wonder you're bullet proof... how dense can you be?"
Conner glared and crossed his arms, but Tim intervened, laying a hand lightly on Conner's shoulder.
"Bart's right..." He said, and Bart beamed at him. "We can't just walk up to him and ask him if he's--"
"Wrath of X'hal!" Starfire growled, but Tim barely missed a beat.
"-- sleeping with Slade."
The window shattered behind him, making his cloak swirl in the sudden wind. He didn't even flinch.
"We need a plan."
***
Kneeling in the darkness, his hands pressed to the wall, Dick tried to catch his breath. The sharp, coppery taste of blood tainted each exhalation, but he couldn't fold.
Not now.
Not ever.
He couldn't let Slade beat him-- again-- even in training.
Fingers tangled in his hair, wrenching his head back harshly, the tendons in his neck quivering from the strain. He gasped with the pain of it, glaring up at Slade's bare face from behind his own battered mask.
Slade never wore his during 'sessions'.
The change was more than a little disconcerting.
-I only wear it when I'm working...- Slade had explained the one time Dick had commented on it. -This, I do for fun.-
Slade's grip tightened, bringing Dick back to the present.
"Fading out already, boy? We've barely even started..." He pulled Dick to his feet, pushing him against the wall. "If you can't handle it, just say so...." He leaned in close, hissing against Dick's hair. "I'll end it now and put us both out of this misery."
"Not a chance, Slade..." Dick ground out between clenched teeth. He managed to push back against Slade far enough to gain purchase with one foot on the wall. Kicking off as hard as he could, he sent them both backwards... but he wasn't ready when Slade lost his footing and they both fell in a heap. He laid stunned on top of Slade for a second before rolling clear, ignoring the ache in his scalp as well as all the other aches he had incurred over the course of this lesson.
"Very good... much better this time." Slade said, propping himself up on one elbow and looking over his handiwork. He barely had a scratch on him, as usual... but then again, Dick wasn't nearly as roughed up as he usually was. "I think that'll do for tonight."
Dick reached down to help Slade to his feet without even thinking about it. Slade smirked at him and accepted his hand, not releasing it once he was standing. He pulled Dick toward him, murmuring, "Good boy..." Dick tried to pull his hand away, but Slade's grip tightened painfully, his expression suddenly dark and unfathomable.
"Slade..."
Slade shook his head and let go, pushing Dick away.
"Go," He said bitterly. "You're friends will be wondering what I've done to you this time..."
Dick opened his mouth, but instead of speaking he turned away and headed for the stairs, burying all trace of his desire to stay...
***
"You can't just--"
"Yes I can."
"You have to--"
"No I don't."
"But it's your responsibility to--"
"No," Bruce said, finally turning away from the fire to look at Clark. "What happens in Jump is none of my business. He's made that abundantly clear."
"But Wilson--"
"Speculation."
"They say Dick is working for him."
"You heard what else 'they're' saying, didn't you?" Bruce drawled, raising an eyebrow. Clark simply stared at him. "Not you too..."
Clark shook his head.
"I just think you have to face the fact that it's possible..." He smiled wanely. "Like surrogate superhero father..." He trailed off.
"Conner too, huh?" Bruce asked, turning back to the fire. Clark looked surprised.
"Don't talk to Tim much anymore, do you?"
Bruce glanced at him and then away, leaning against the mantle, but didn't say anything.
"Just talk to Deathstroke, Bruce..." Clark said, sighing. "You're the only one he'll listen to anymore."
"That's where you're wrong, Clark... he listens to Dick." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "He needs him. More than I do."
Clark moved closer, laying a hand on Bruce's shoulder.
"Sometimes... you have to do the right thing, no matter who it hurts..."
--END PART TWO--
Chapter Two: Misconstrued
Pairing[s]: Slade/Nightwing, Conner/Tim, Clark/Bruce
Rating: It's still all innuendo and violence... PG13 to be safe...
by: xxdeathstrokexx (aka- sladexrobin )
dedicated to: katarik, who has given me even more fodder for my Slade!angst muse... because I needed more... ^__^;
***
"Calm down, Star... I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation..." Gar said, not sounding very convinced of that himself.
"That's the problem..." Tim muttered from his seat by the window, laptop closed for once. "From what I know of Slade... this is perfectly reasonable."
Starfire muttered a curse in Tamaranean and Gar jumped up in front of Tim, his hands raised placatingly.
"Whoa there, Star..." He glanced over his shoulder at Tim. "You aren't really helping, man."
"Sorry..." Tim said unapologetically. "But this wasn't exactly unexpected."
Gar waved Starfire back again, rather surprised that she hadn't started blasting yet.
"Yeah, well... cooperating with Slade to save the world is one thing, but this..." Gar grimaced and shook his head. "What does Batman have to say about it?"
Tim stared out the rain darkened window.
"Nothing... we haven't talked about it."
Gar transformed into a bull.
Tim watched his reflection for a long moment before looking at Gar.
"He knows something... but he's not sharing."
"That's new." Conner said, coming down the stairs. Tim perked up considerably at the sight of him.
"Any news?"
Conner shook his head, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
"They don't call it the Fortress of Solitude for nothing... But I think he knows something's going on. Something big. And he's not doing anything about it..."
Gar snorted and changed back to human form.
"Didn't really expect him to..."
Conner shrugged, his eyes still on Tim.
"No luck with Batman either, huh?" He asked, and Tim simply shook his head. "Figures... Look, why don't we just ask Nightwing what's going on? No one else is gonna tell us squat."
Gar rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Bart seemingly appeared on the arm of the couch, swinging his feet.
"You know, it's no wonder you're bullet proof... how dense can you be?"
Conner glared and crossed his arms, but Tim intervened, laying a hand lightly on Conner's shoulder.
"Bart's right..." He said, and Bart beamed at him. "We can't just walk up to him and ask him if he's--"
"Wrath of X'hal!" Starfire growled, but Tim barely missed a beat.
"-- sleeping with Slade."
The window shattered behind him, making his cloak swirl in the sudden wind. He didn't even flinch.
"We need a plan."
***
Kneeling in the darkness, his hands pressed to the wall, Dick tried to catch his breath. The sharp, coppery taste of blood tainted each exhalation, but he couldn't fold.
Not now.
Not ever.
He couldn't let Slade beat him-- again-- even in training.
Fingers tangled in his hair, wrenching his head back harshly, the tendons in his neck quivering from the strain. He gasped with the pain of it, glaring up at Slade's bare face from behind his own battered mask.
Slade never wore his during 'sessions'.
The change was more than a little disconcerting.
-I only wear it when I'm working...- Slade had explained the one time Dick had commented on it. -This, I do for fun.-
Slade's grip tightened, bringing Dick back to the present.
"Fading out already, boy? We've barely even started..." He pulled Dick to his feet, pushing him against the wall. "If you can't handle it, just say so...." He leaned in close, hissing against Dick's hair. "I'll end it now and put us both out of this misery."
"Not a chance, Slade..." Dick ground out between clenched teeth. He managed to push back against Slade far enough to gain purchase with one foot on the wall. Kicking off as hard as he could, he sent them both backwards... but he wasn't ready when Slade lost his footing and they both fell in a heap. He laid stunned on top of Slade for a second before rolling clear, ignoring the ache in his scalp as well as all the other aches he had incurred over the course of this lesson.
"Very good... much better this time." Slade said, propping himself up on one elbow and looking over his handiwork. He barely had a scratch on him, as usual... but then again, Dick wasn't nearly as roughed up as he usually was. "I think that'll do for tonight."
Dick reached down to help Slade to his feet without even thinking about it. Slade smirked at him and accepted his hand, not releasing it once he was standing. He pulled Dick toward him, murmuring, "Good boy..." Dick tried to pull his hand away, but Slade's grip tightened painfully, his expression suddenly dark and unfathomable.
"Slade..."
Slade shook his head and let go, pushing Dick away.
"Go," He said bitterly. "You're friends will be wondering what I've done to you this time..."
Dick opened his mouth, but instead of speaking he turned away and headed for the stairs, burying all trace of his desire to stay...
***
"You can't just--"
"Yes I can."
"You have to--"
"No I don't."
"But it's your responsibility to--"
"No," Bruce said, finally turning away from the fire to look at Clark. "What happens in Jump is none of my business. He's made that abundantly clear."
"But Wilson--"
"Speculation."
"They say Dick is working for him."
"You heard what else 'they're' saying, didn't you?" Bruce drawled, raising an eyebrow. Clark simply stared at him. "Not you too..."
Clark shook his head.
"I just think you have to face the fact that it's possible..." He smiled wanely. "Like surrogate superhero father..." He trailed off.
"Conner too, huh?" Bruce asked, turning back to the fire. Clark looked surprised.
"Don't talk to Tim much anymore, do you?"
Bruce glanced at him and then away, leaning against the mantle, but didn't say anything.
"Just talk to Deathstroke, Bruce..." Clark said, sighing. "You're the only one he'll listen to anymore."
"That's where you're wrong, Clark... he listens to Dick." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "He needs him. More than I do."
Clark moved closer, laying a hand on Bruce's shoulder.
"Sometimes... you have to do the right thing, no matter who it hurts..."
--END PART TWO--