Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He wasn’t even sure why he stopped. He’d been on his way back from a contract and had pulled over at a bar because Slade Wilson was not a man to deny himself a drink or two to celebrate a job well done.

So it was when he was stepping out of the bar and heading towards his car that he heard the crying.

Well...screaming would have been a more accurate word.

Any other time he would have ignored it, left the screaming to be someone else’s problem because he was not a man who cared to help others. On the contrary, the entire point of his work was personal gain.

Still, the screams sounded like those belonging to a child and Slade had always had a soft spot for children, especially after having three of his own. So adjusting his grip on his keys to be used as a weapon (he didn’t want to draw his gun and scare the child more) Slade crept into the ally, frowning only for a moment at the sight of no one until he pinpointed the screams coming from the dumpster.

Slipping his keys into his pocket, he crept over to the dumpster and reached inside to pull out a tiny little baby.

“What the hell?” Slade whispered as the child - appearing to be only a few months old - continued to scream and cry, kicking its little legs in the ratty, dirt streaked blanket.

Instinctually, Slade tucked the baby to his chest and rushed to his car. While he normally would have just dropped the baby off at the hospital and moved on with his night, this was Gotham City and the father in him, however rusty that side might be, knew better than to trust Gotham’s orphanages.

………….

“Shh, you’re alright,” Slade soothed later once he’d returned to his apartment and unraveled the baby from its blanket cocoon to find dirty, bleeding skin and a long since soiled diaper. The baby had obviously been attacked if the slash across his cheek was anything to go by. It was bleeding steadily, likely infected, and Slade knew it would likely scar once it healed. “Shh, it’s okay.”

He had carefully washed the baby off in his sink, bundling the little boy into one of his own clean shirts after changing into a pair of lounge shirts, choosing to forgo a shirt in the hopes that skin to skin contact might warm the child.

The baby boy was pale, lips and fingers tinged blue on account of the chilled winter air. Slade wasn’t sure he wanted to know how long the child had been wailing in that dumpster before the mercenary found him.

“Who are you?” Slade asked quietly. “Hm? Who left you there?”

The baby continued to wail and Slade sighed. He knew the baby was hungry and likely terrified, but he had no one nearby he could trust with the boy and thus no way to get what the child needed.

What the boy needed was a mother who would know how to care for him properly. Not a mercenary who went out and killed others for a living. Cursing again, Slade grabbed his phone and called the one person he knew would still be awake at three AM.

“Wintergreen. I need your assistance.”

“ Yes? ” Wintergreen asked, politely ignoring the screaming child he could no doubt hear.

“I need you to run an errand for me.”

“ I presume for the child? ”

“Yes.”

“ How old is he? ”

Slade hesitated. “No older than six months.”

“ Understood, ” Wintergreen said calmly. “ Give me one hour. ”

“Thank you,” Slade said. “You have a spare key?”

“ Are you in Gotham? ”

“Yes.”

“ Then yes, I do. I’ll be there as soon as I can. ”

Slade ended the call, adjusting his grip on the baby whose screams and cries had turned to hiccups, though tears were still rolling down his cheeks.

“Come on,” Slade murmured, gently running his hand over the baby’s little tuft of black hair, carrying the baby into the bedroom and lying down with the child resting on his chest. “Let’s rest here, hm? You’re tiring yourself out.”

………….

“Where did he come from?”

“I don’t know,” Salde replied. He and Wintergreen were sitting on the couch, exactly one hour later. The child was held close to Slade’s chest as he fed the baby a bottle of formula that Wintergreen had purchased and the boy was now diapered and properly dressed, though the onesie was a little big. 

“If I have a bit of the child’s blood,” Wintergreen said tentatively. “There’s a chance I can find out where he came from.”

“I’m not drawing blood from him,” Slade said shortly. “There are others ways to get your answer.”

Wintergreen nodded. “Very well.” after a moment he added, You’ve grown attached to him.”

As much as Slade wanted to deny the claim, he had never been able to lie to Wintergreen.

“Yes.”

Wintergreen gave a short nod. “Very well. In that case, he needs a name.”

Slade hummed quietly, looking down at the baby who had drained his bottle and fallen asleep.

“Richard,” he said with a small smile that Wintergreen pretended not to notice. “I’ll name him Richard.”

………….

FOUR WEEKS LATER

“ Thomas Grayson. ”

Slade frowned, glancing at the baby asleep in the basinet next to Slade’s bed. “I’m sorry?”

“ The baby, ” Wintergreen clarified over the phone. “ His name is Thomas John Grayson. Son of Mary and John Grayson .”

“What happened to them?”

“ They were trapeze artists in Haley’s Circus. They fell to their deaths several weeks before you found the boy .”

“How did he end up there?” Slade asked, walking over to gaze down at the baby. At Richard. 

No. Thomas Grayson, supposedly.

“ Apparently someone from the circus was babysitting him backstage while his parents preformed, ” Wintergreen elaborated. “ In all the chaos of their deaths, no one even realized the baby was missing until it was too late. ”

“And then I found him in the dumpster.”

“ That I cannot explain, ” Wintergreen said calmly. “ But the circus left town after having a small memorial for the entire family, including him. ”

“So in short,” Slade said slowly. “Richard is mine.”

“ Yes ,” Wintergreen replied. “ Congratulations, Slade. You’re a father again. Don’t screw it up.”

………….………….

SIX YEARS LATER

Slade woke up to the sound of little feet padding across the floor, followed by soft grunts and groans and the shifting of the sheets.

As opposed to turning and helping little six year old Richard up onto the bed, Slade merely lay there, waiting. He’d learned the hard way that Richard liked to do everything by himself. The last time Slade had tried to help him onto the bed, Richard had cried for three hours.

That had not been fun.

“Daddy?” Richard whispered, crawling across the bed once he’d made it atop. He patted Slade’s cheek. “Daddy?” he asked again when Slade didn’t react.

Slade waited until he knew Richard had gone to pat him again to grab the boy around the waist, pulling him onto Slade’s chest.

Richard squealed, laughing and squirming until Slade let him pull back.

“Hello Richard,” Slade murmured as the six year old curled up against his side. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare,” Richard mumbled. “I wanted to sleep with you.”

Slade sighed, pulling Richard close. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Richard shook his head. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “Why are people mean?”

Slade frowned, sitting up slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember when Miss Adeline called you a dick?”

“I don’t want to hear you-”

“The kids at school call me a dick,” Richard said with a huff. “It hurts my feelings.”

“Have you told them?”

“Yeah,” Richard grumbled. “They just laughed at me.”

“Well…” Slade said slowly, unsure if he wanted to continue this train of thought. “Dick is technically a nickname for Richard. If you really want to get back at them, you could go by Dick.”

“Really?” Richard asked, lifting his head.

“Yes,” Slade replied. “Is that what you want to be called?”

“Richard is too long,” Richard decided firmly. “I wanna go by Dick now.”

“Alright,” Slade said. “Do you want to go to sleep now?”

“Yes,” Dick decided, curling up against Slade again and resting his head on the mercenary’s shoulder. “Goodnight daddy.”

Slade hummed, gently putting his hand on Dick’s back. “Goodnight, Dick.”

Chapter Text

“Grant!”

Grant chuckled, just barely catching the little ball of energy that was Richard Wilson.

“Hey buddy,” he said, scooping the six year old into his arms. “There’s my little renegade.”

Dick giggled. “Hey, guess what daddy told me last night?”

“What did he tell you?” Rose asked, entering the apartment after Grant and closing the door.

“Daddy told me ‘Dick’ is a nickname for Richard so that’s what I can call myself!” Dick declared, puffing out his chest.

“Well that’s certainly a...bold nickname,” Rose muttered, slipping past Grant to go find and lecture their father. 

Grant chuckled. “How have you and dad been?”

“Good!” Dick chirped, squirming until Grant put him down. “But sometimes daddy sends me to Uncle Wintergreen and he leaves all night and doesn’t come back till the morning but he never tells me where he goes. He does it all the time !”

“Maybe he’ll tell you when you’re older,” Grant said, looking over when Rose and Slade walked in. 

“Is daddy okay?” Dick asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Grant asked, kneeling down on Dick’s level.

“Sometimes daddy’s cranky when he comes back,” Dick muttered. “And he looks like he’s hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Slade said shortly. “Now come on. Lunch is ready.”

………….………….

SEVEN YEARS LATER

When Dick was thirteen was when Slade finally told him the truth, only because Dick had somehow found his suit and weapons.

“You’re Deathstroke?” Dick said quietly, gripping the katana in his hand as he gazed up at his father.

“Yes.”

“You kill people?” Dick asked.

“Yes,” Slade replied. “But they deserve it.”

“How do you know?”

“I always look into it,” Slade assured the boy. “I always make sure my victims are guilty.”

Dick nodded slowly. “Can I help?”

Slade frowned in putting on his armor, looking over at Dick who was sitting on the end of Slade’s bed, watching him intently as he absently swung his legs.

“You want to help.” Slade repeated.

“Yeah,” Dick answered with a shrug. “I could be your partner or something.”

“What would you even call yourself?”

Dick didn’t hesitate. “Renegade.”

………….………….

Two Years Later

*Dick is Fifteen

Slade fell through the window, covered in blood and unconscious the moment he hit the ground.

Despite it being three in the morning, Dick had been sitting on the couch, waiting for him.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Dick hissed, running over and falling to his knees beside the man. “Dad!?” he cried, looking towards the window before looking back at Slade where a pool of blood was gathering beneath the man. “Oh god. Help! Help, please!”

Dick tried shaking Slade, though he got no reaction. Tears blurred his vision and he continued to scream for help until he saw arms wrapping around him, pulling him away.

“No!” he screamed, thrashing against the man. “No, let me go!”

“Red Bird,” the gruff voice said firmly. “Get him out of here.”

“No, please!” Dick sobbed as he was pulled away and hauled out of the apartment through the living room window. “Dad!”

The person who took him - Red Bird - didn’t stop until they were several rooftops away. As soon as he was released, Dick spun around, hands raised.

“Who the hell are you?!” he screamed, glaring at Red Bird. He’d seen the boy on the news, but Slade had always closed the blinds before Batman and Red Bird appeared on the streets. Now that Dick knew his father was Deathstroke, it made sense.

“Hey, relax,” Red Bird soothed, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not!” Dick shouted. “Take me back! Now!”

Red Bird snorted. “Yeah, not a chance. Deathstroke’s a killer, kid. He has to be taken in.”

“No, no you take me back right now!” Dick demanded, stalking up to Red Bird and feeling some sense of pleasure at the fact that the boy was smaller than he was. “Take me back!”

“Easy,” Red Bird said quietly. “What’s your name?”

Dick huffed, crossing his arms and turning away. After a few moments, he spoke over his shoulder.

“Dick.”

Red Bird snorted and Dick growled. “Shut up!”

Red Bird held up his hands again. “Alright, I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry then take me back.”

Red Bird sighed. “I can’t do that. We have to wait until Batman gets here.”

“ We don’t have to do shit ,” Dick hissed as he turned back around to face the hero, knowing Slade would give him a lecture if he heard him cursing. But Slade wasn’t there so he had to make do. “ You , however, have to take me-”

“Red Bird.”

Dick whirled around to glare at Batman. “Take me back.”

Batman barley cast him another glance, instead looking at Red Bird. “Deathstroke has been taken into custody. Who is this?”

“Taken into custody already? That was almost too fast, B. Are we sure this wasn’t a trick?”

“Red Bird.”

“His name is Dick,” Red Bird replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. But Dick didn’t hear it. All he could focus on was the fact that Slade was gone. In prison.

“You arrested him?” Dick asked weakly.

“You’ll never have to see him again,” Batman assured him.

Dick shook his head. “No, you don’t understand,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “He was all I had.”

“What’s your name?” Red Bird asked gently, stepping forward. “We can find your parents.”

“He was my parent,” Dick snapped, pulling away from the hand Red Bird had placed on his shoulder and crossing his arms. “I don’t have anyone else.”

“Then we’ll contact CPS,” Batman decided. “But you’re not going back to him.”

“You can’t do this!” Dick shouted, backing away as Batman began to call the police and CPS. “You can’t do this!”

Batman sighed. “Red Bird.”

“Sorry kid,” Red Bird murmured before injecting something into Dick’s arm, causing the young boy to go limp immediately. “It’s for your own good.”

Chapter Text

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Good morning, Richard,” Miss West said with a smile, entering Dick’s room to pull back the curtains. Dick growled, throwing his pillow over his head and burrowing deeper into his blanket. “How did you sleep?”

“I would have slept better if I were home,” Dick snapped, sitting up to glare at her. Miss West sighed but was unfazed as she walked over to kneel in front of Dick.

“I know adjusting to a foster family can be hard,” she said softly. “Especially after you were rescued-”

“I wasn’t rescued,” Dick growled. “I was kidnapped.”

Miss West sighed as she straightened up. “Well, it’s time for breakfast.”

“No thanks.”

“This isn’t an option, Richard,” she said tiredly. She’d been having this same conversation with him every single day for the last two months. “Barry and Wally are in the kitchen whenever you’re ready to come down.”

Dick crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the wall until Miss West was gone. After a few seconds, he got out of bed and made his way to the dresser, pulling on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. Sighing, he wandered across the hall into the bathroom, glaring at his reflexion before angrily yanking his comb through his hair until it was semi-decent.

With another sigh, he made his way down to the kitchen. Almost immediately, the stupid red head boy named Wally rushed over.

Dick hated him.

“Hey Richard!” Wally said with as smile. Even after two months of Dick being hostile to all of them, they still treated him nicely.

Deep down, Dick liked it, if only for the fact that he’d never really had any friends before.

“Go away,” Dick said hotly, pushing past Wally to the kitchen and ignoring Barry’s greeting in favor of sitting at the table and glaring.

“How are you holding up?” Wally asked quietly.

“Stop talking,” Dick hissed.

Wally was undeterred. “How did you sleep?”

“What part of ‘stop talking’ didn’t you understand?” Dick demanded, balling his hands into fists under the table.

“The stop part,” Barry said with a laugh, accepting the huge stack of waffles his wife - or girlfriend, Dick didn’t know if they were married - handed him.

Dick hated all of them. He glared at the floor as Miss West placed a small stack of pancakes in front of him.

“Please eat,” she murmured, taking her own seat across from him.

Dick sighed before doing as he was asked.

“How is it?” Wally asked, practically vibrating in his seat. “Good, right? Aunt Iris is the best!”

Dick huffed but said nothing. That at least seemed to direct the boy’s interest elsewhere and he began speaking rapid fire to Barry.

“Oh, Dick,” Iris said, passing a crips white envelope over to him. “This came to the door for you.”

Dick frowned as he took it, noting the lack of return address. “Not in the mail?”

“Hand delivered,” Iris replied. “Wealthy friend?”

“Something like that,” Dick mumbled as he ripped open the envelope and pulled out the paper. The letter was short and simple and not signed in a way that would lead anyone to know who sent it.

Anyone who wasn’t Dick, that is.

Be ready at Midnight.

-SW

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”

Dick cursed quietly, turning from stuffing his clothes into a backpack to find Wally standing in the doorway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Leaving,” Dick replied.

Wally frowned, more awake now. “You’re running away?”

“No, my dad is coming to get me.”

Wally’s eyes went wide. “Shit. I mean-ah...no, yeah, shit. Do you want me to call the cops?”

Dick sighed and ushered Wally into the room, closing the door.

“Wally, my birth parents died when I was a baby,” he explained. “Deathstroke took me in and he cared for me. When Batman arrested him-”

“You were taken away and put somewhere you didn’t want to be,” Wally concluded. “But you can’t just leave!”

“I know,” Dick said quietly. “I just…” he sighed quietly, tangling his hands in his hair. “He’s all I have, Wally.”

“Not anymore,” Wally declared, puffing out his chest. “You’ve got me!”

Dick pressed his lips together before reluctantly giving a small smile. “Yeah, I’ve got you,” he mumbled. “But he...he raised me. I never knew my real parents, he’s like a father to me.”

Wally nodded. “Okay.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said okay,” Wally replied. “Come on, do you have everything?”

“I-yeah.” Dick shook his head. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because, honestly?” Wally rubbed the back of his neck. “You seem pretty miserable. And you don’t act like someone who was abused or kidnapped by Deathstroke. Even if you have stockholm syndrome, you don’t act like it. So I’m helping you because it’s right.”

Dick stared at him before giving a small smile. “Thank you, Wally.”

“Hey, also,” Wally said as the two of them krept down the stairs towards the driveway. “How does he know where I live?”

“He’s Deathstroke,” Dick said cheerfully as they sat on the porch to wait. “He always knows where I am.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“He won’t do anything, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“No, I just…” Wally gave a weak laugh. “He freaks me out, that’s all.”

Dick only shrugged, hiking his backpack up on his shoulder when a black car rolled into the driveway, headlights off.

“Hey, I’m not about to make a really stupid choice, letting you go like this right?” Wally asked as Dick hopped off the porch and made his way to the car.

“I’ll be fine, Wally,” Dick assured with a smile, one hand on the car handle. “He won’t hurt me.”

Wally nodded and Dick gave him one last reassuring smile before slipping into the car, grinning over at Uncle Wintergreen.

“Not who I was expecting, but hello,” Dick greeted, dropping his backpack at his feet and buckling himself in as Wintergreen pulled out of the driveway, only flipping the headlights on once they were down the road and away from the house.

“You and your dad are gonna have to lay low for awhile so we figured it was safest if he stayed at the house while I picked you up.”

“Is he okay?” Dick asked quietly.

Wintergreen chuckled. “He’s Deathstroke, kid. He’s always okay.”

Dick was pretty sure that was a boldfaced lie but he was too tired to say anything so he just slumped down in his seat and got comfortable.

“Wake me when we get there,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and falling asleep not long after.

……………………..

Wintergreen didn’t wake Dick when they got there and the young boy woke up as he was being carried to bed.

“ ‘m not a kid,” he grumbled to Slade as the mercenary lay him down in bed and took off his shoes. “I can walk by myself.”

“I know,” Slade told him with a smile, pulling the blanket over Dick. “But you were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you up. I’d already made you stay up until midnight.”

“Mm.” Dick yawned. “I wasn’t lyin’,” he mumbled as Slade stood and started to walk away.

“Pardon?”

“When I said I wanted t’ help,” Dick replied, snaking his arms under the pillow and starting to fall asleep again. “I do. I wanna help.”

Slade sighed, walking back over to brush Dick’s hair off his face. “Go to sleep,” the mercenary ordered. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

Slade closed the door quietly, making his way to the living room where Wintergreen was still standing.

“He wants to help?” he asked.

Slade sighed. “Yes,” he replied.

“What would he even call himself, if you actually let him help?”

“Renegade.”

Chapter Text

ONE WEEK LATER

“It’s going to be months of training,” Slade told Dick, the two of them seated at the breakfast table in the current safehouse. “It’s going to be hard , kid, and I’m not going to be nice.”

“I know , dad,” Dick grumbled, exhausted from having the same damn conversation for the last week. “I want to help.”

“You have to listen to me, Dick,” Slade ordered. “And I don’t just mean now, I don’t mean when I’m training you. I mean on a contract, if I take you with me on a contract, you have to listen.”

“I will!”

“If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide you, hide . Do you understand me?”

“Yes!”

Slade stared down at him for a long time before finally heaving a tired sigh. “You want to help so bad?” he asked. “Something tells me I can’t stop you. The only thing I can do is train you, make sure you don’t go out there and get yourself killed.”

“Great!” Dick chirped. “So, when do we start?”

“Finish breakfast,” Slade replied. “Get changed. Yoga pants and a tank top. Meet me in the living room.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

………………………..

TWO MONTHS LATER

“You need to block , Dick,” Slade snapped as Dick stumbled away from him, clutching his stomach where Slade’s bo staff had caught him. “A block, no matter how poor it is, could be the only difference between life or death.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Dick snapped, blue eyes blazing as he adjusted his grip on his own bo staff, readying himself. “Go again.”

…………………………

FIVE MONTHS LATER

“The key to getting across larger gaps between buildings via rooftop is to not lose momentum and don’t stop . If you botch the landing then you roll but do not stop or you’ll lose the momentum you need.”

“Okay, okay,” Dick - Renegade - whispered, decked out in his own black suit with a large orange bird spanning across his chest, blades strapped to his back and domino mask over his face. “Alright, I got this.”

“Do you?” Deathstroke asked, voice coming from the comm in his ear as the mercenary stood five rooftops away. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Renegade let out a soft, quiet breath. “Okay.”

He made it four rooftops before he faltered, botched the landing, rolled but couldn’t get up fast enough. He huffed quietly as he picked himself up, body aching.

“Again,” Deathstroke ordered, hands on his hips. “From the beginning.”

Renegade groaned but went to do as he was told.

…………………………

ONE YEAR LATER

By the time Slade deemed him ready enough to be brought on contracts as a lookout, Dick was eighteen years old.

“A lookout, seriously?” Renegade demanded as the two of them made their way to the hit point.

“You’re a good shot, Renegade, but you’re not ready to carry out your own contract yet,” Deathstroke replied.

“When will I be ready?”

“When I say you are.”

Renegade groaned. “This is just about your stupid reputation, isn’t it?”

“Once you get your own good reputation, then you’ll understand.”

“You sound like such a dad.”

“Well I’d hope so, I’ve raised four kids.”

The car was silent for a few moments until Renegade spoke quietly. “Who were my birth parents? What...what happened to them?”

Deathstroke sighed, adjusting his hold on the steering wheel. “Their names were John and Mary Grayson,” he replied. “They were trapeze artists in Haly’s Circus. Their trapeze ropes were cut and they fell to their deaths.”

“How did you find me?”

“I found you abandoned in a dumpster, behind a bar. Wintergreen said it seemed that someone had been babysitting you backstage while your parents preformed but-”

“But we don’t know how I got to the dumpster,” Renegade mumbled, reaching up to lightly trace his fingers over the scar on his cheek, hidden with make-up.

“No, we don’t,” Deathstroke replied softly.

“You saved my life.”

“Yes.”

Renegade nodded. “Thank you.”

Deathstroke said nothing until they got to the hit point. “Keep a look out,” he murmured as they climbed to the roof and the mercenary settled into position.

“Yes sir.”

…………………………..

The contract was carried through without a hitch, at least until they got down to the car.

Deathstroke’s shift in stance was the only warning Renegade had before they were surrounded by-

“Young Justice, I presume,” Deathstroke mused as the group stood around him. “What, the League is too lazy to handle me themselves? Or do they just not see me as a threat?”

“We’re not here to take you down,” the one with black marks wrapped around his arms said, stepping forward. “We are here to watch you-”

“And prevent me from escaping,” Deathstroke said. “Is that it?”

“Yes.”

Deathstroke hummed. “Renegade?”

“Yes sir?”

“Run.”

Renegade groaned loudly before turning and sprinting off. He heard shouts and knew Deathstroke had engaged the group until he could get away. At least that’s what he thought until arms wrapped around his waist and brought him tot he groud with a cry.

He didn’t hesitate, landing a slid kick to the yellow figure’s face scrambling to his feet and pulling out one of the katanas fro his back, the two slowly circling.

“You must be Flash’s sidekick,” Renegade drawled.

“Yeah and if I’d known you were going to start killing people, I never would have let you walk out the door two years ago.”

Renegade paused, frowning. “Wally?”

The speedster heaved a sigh as he pulled off his goggles and straightened up, Renegade following suit. It had been a long time since Dick had seen Wally and the other looked a lot older, despite only being a few years older than Dick himself.

“Yeah,” Wally murmured. “This is...you’re…”

“Renegade.”

“Yeah.”

They lapsed into silence. “You work with him?” Wally asked weakly.

“I’m only a lookout, for now,” Renegade replied, sliding his katana back into the holster on his back, crossing his arms over his chest. “But eventually I’ll be allowed to take my own contracts.”

“You mean you’ll be allowed to kill people.”

Renegade frowned. “So?”

“Killing people is wrong , Dick.”

“They’re always guilty.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because dad always checks first.”

“Have you ever actually seen his checks?” Wally asked. “Or do you just take his word like a good little soldier?”

“Hey, I am not his soldier!” Renegade snapped. “I’m his son !”

“If you were really his son, he wouldn’t let you do this.”

“It was either train me to do this or let me out untrained and know I’d end up dead.”

“So you’re telling me you were really planning to go out and kill people? And he’s just teaching you how to do it right so you don’t get caught?”

Renegade scowled. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Wally’s expression softened. “But I want to understand.”

Renegade looked away and the two fell into a long silence again until he spoke quietly. 

“My parents were killed when I was a baby,” he murmured. “I’ve always known that. And now I might have a chance to track down who did it and get revenge.”

“Why can’t you leave that to Deathstroke?”

“Because it wasn’t his parents that were killed,” Renegade replied. “It was mine . If he kills their killer, it’s not revenge, it’s a hit. Although I don’t expect a superhero’s sidekick like you to know the difference.”

“I do know the difference,” Wally insisted. “Really, I...Dick, I know it doesn’t seem like that but I do understand.” he sighed. “May I...let me ask a question. Let’s say you kill your parents killer, okay? What the?”

“What do you mean?”

“You became Renegade because you want to get revenge, right?”

“And cause I want to help dad.”

“You want to help him,” Wally repeated. “So does that mean you’ll ever get to carry out your own contract?”

Renegade frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It just seems to me like these contracts are one man jobs,” Wally replied. “And if you’re helping him...well, it just seems like you’ll kinda just be stuck as lookout for awhile.”

“Dad wouldn’t do that,” Renegade mumbled though Wally’s words had already watered a seed of insecurity in Dick’s belly. “He knows I want to carry out my own contracts. He said I could, as soon as I was ready.”

“Did he really say that in those exact words?”

Renegade slowly shook his head. “Well..n-no, but-”

“What exactly did he say?”

“He said...I wasn’t ready.”

“And did he say when you’d be ready?”

“When he said.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Wally murmured. “So, Dick. Are you still sure he’s going to let you out on your own contract?”

Chapter Text

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we got in.”

“Hm?” Dick looked up from his book where he was lounging on the other end of the couch from Slade, the both of them dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants while Slade cleaned out his gun. “Oh, no, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Slade didn’t look up. “Kid Flash didn’t say anything to you?”

Dick’s two years of training was the only reason he didn’t flinch at the question. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You’re not thinking of backing out of this, are you?”

“I don’t feel sick or woozy after watching you kill someone if that’s what you’re really trying to ask,” Dick said carefully.

Slade hummed, finally looking over at him. “It’s alright if you are,” he murmured. “This was never what I wanted for you. For any of my kids.”

“Then why did Grant and Rose and Joey get involved?”

“Because they were stubborn,” Slade replied. “And the only reason I trained you was because I didn’t train them and you saw what happened.”

Dick nodded, thinking of the story of how Rose lost her eye. Of the few times he went with Slade to visit Joey’s grave. Of the hostility he felt in the air whenever Grant came to visit him and Slade was home.

“You know…” he started slowly. “I’m eighteen now.”

“Yes?”

“I graduate next month.”

“Your point?”

“I think I’m old enough to move out.”

Slade barked out a laugh, shaking his head fondly as he set his gun down and wiped his hands off on a nearby towel, turning to face Dick.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “Where will you go?”

“I don’t know yet,” Dick replied. It was sort of true. He didn’t know where he wanted to go but he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to find and kill the man who killed his parents. He wanted to talk to Wally, become better friends and make up for leaving.

But more importantly, he wanted to get away from Slade. Because maybe it had taken some years but he was starting to understand what Wally meant. He was staring to wonder if Slade was ever going to give him the independence he really wanted.

“Well then,” Slade said as he started cleaning up his weapons on the coffee table. “Maybe wait on moving out until you have a destination.”

Dick scowled at his back. He should have known Slade was going to say that but it still didn’t make him any happier to hear it put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered, bookmarking his page and standing. “I’m heading to bed.”

Slade eyed him as he left and Dick knew that while the man didn’t believe him, he wasn’t going to stop him.

And if Dick slipped out his bedroom window with his stuff shoved into a duffle bag, jumped into the car and hotwired it, well…

Slade wouldn’t know until morning.

……………………………….

TWO YEARS LATER

“You look a little young to be here.”

Dick looked over at the figure beside him, decked out in a leather jacket with bright red hair and a shock of white in the front. If Dick hadn’t been raised by the world’s best mercenary, he’d probably think the man looked dangerous.

“So do you,” Dick returned. It was true, the man looked like he had to be at least two years younger than Dick who was only a year short of being legal here.

Not that bartenders in Bludhaven really seemed to give a shit about ages. They hadn’t even asked for Dick’s (forged) ID, just passed him what he ordered.

“Fair enough,” the man said with a laugh, extending a hand. “The name’s Jason.”

“Dick.”

Jason stared. “Seriously? That sucks.”

“Excuse you, I chose my name,” Dick retaliated, pleased when Jason held his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, alright,” he said, chuckling as he took a sip of his beer. “No need to get defensive.”

“Sorry,” Dick mumbled, relaxing. “Just been tense lately.”

“On the run? You look like someone on the run.”

“And how would you know, Mr. Jason?”

“I’ve been on the run for a long time,” Jason returned. “Whether I’m running to or from something…” he shook his head. “Still haven’t figured that one out.”

“So where are you headed then?” Dick asked. “Surely you have a destination in mind? Or are you just driving in the hopes that you’ll end up where you need to be?”

“It was the second one, for awhile,” Jason replied. “But I have unfinished business in Gotham.”

“In a way, so do I,” Dick murmured, thinking of the erect circus tent that had been left in Gotham as a memorial to his parents…

And to him.

“Yet you don’t look like someone who wants to go back,” Jason said. “So tell me, Dick , where are you going?”

“A friend of mine lives in Central City,” Dick replied, thinking back to the series of calls and texts he and Wally had been exchanging for some months. 

Not to mention the maybe-sorta relationship the two had formed.

“Hoping to crash with him for awhile?”

“That and lay low,” Dick replied. He’d had a way too close brush with Deathstroke the night before while he was on his patrol of Bludhaven and while the mercenary thank fuck hadn’t seen him, it had still been too close and now Dick was itching to get out of the city as soon as possible.

“Hey, I’m actually heading to Central too,” Jason said. “A friend of mine lives there, Roy Harper.”

Dick’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you’re Jason Todd?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You know me?”

“You know Roy ?”

“You do?”

“Yeah, Roy’s a really good friend of mine,” Dick replied. “He gave me a place to stay when I ran away two years ago.”

“Well shit, how come we haven’t met sooner?” Jason asked, grinning before pulling out his wallet and slapping down enough money for the both of them. “Come on squirt, let’s go!”

“I’m pretty sure you’re younger than me,” Dic said with a fond laugh as they made their way to the parking lot, stopping by Dick’s (stolen) car so he could grab his stuff out of the trunk.

“Yeah, but you’re smaller.”

Dick rolled his eyes as they slipped into the car and Jason booted it to life. A few minutes of rolling down the highway, Jason finally asked.

“Hey, how do you know I’m not a serial killer?”

“Cause I have a gun in my waistband and if you’d tried to kill me, I’m pretty sure I could act faster.”

Dick had never actually killed anyone to date but there was a first time for everything.

“Well shit, so you’re the serial killer.”

Dick scowled. “I’m not a serial killer.”

“No? Then who are you?”

Renegade. Richard. Deathstroke’s apprentice. Slade’s son.

“No one,” Dick settled on. “I’m no one.”

Jason watched him for a few minutes before shrugging. “Fair enough. Next stop, Central City.”

Chapter Text

“Seriously, how have I never met you two before!?” Jason shouted, sitting on the floor with Roy while Dick and Wally sat together on the couch.

“Cause they’re like my snot-nosed little brothers,” Roy replied, shoving Jason’s shoulder. “Also Dick is Deathstroke’s kid and I know he’s trying to lay low so I’ve done my best to keep my mouth shut about him.”

“Oh shit , we have met before!” Jason whispered, eyes wide before gesturing to himself wildly. “I’m Red Bird!” he scowled. “Or, well, I was. BatWayne Bruceman replaced me.”

“You’re Red Bird?” Dick asked, remembering that night that Batman and Red Bird had taken him from Slade. He scowled. “I should punch you.”

“He’d totally deserve it,” Roy commented.

Dick and Wally laughed while Jason only pouted, whining at Roy like a puppy until Roy heaved a sigh and stood.

“Alright, come on Jaybird,” he murmured, standing and hauling Jason up. “You’re too drunk, time to sleep it off.”

“Sleepy cuddles?” Jason asked, leaning into his boyfriend as the two stumbled down the hall.

“Sure Jay, just don’t throw up on me.”

Dick and Wally chuckled quietly, Jason’s slurred singing carrying down the hall until the bedroom door closed. After which, they sat in silence for a few moments until Wally spoke.

“So you really left dear old dad behind, huh?”

Dick sighed. “Not forever, I’m sure,” he murmured. “He’s Deathstroke, he’ll find me eventually.”

“For now though?”

“For now I’ll stay in Central, I think,” Dick replied. “It’s a nice city, nice company.” he nudged Wally’s shoulder with a smile. “He’d never think to look for me here.”

I hope.

“You can crash with me,” Wally offered. “I mean...well, I…” he cleared his throat. “I’ve kinda...uh…”

“Wallace West,” Dick murmured, leaning back on the couch and looking over at Wally with a smile. “Are you trying to ask me out?”

“That or uh...as my boyfriend?”

Dick laughed fondly. “Well then, I accept.”

“Really!?”

“Ha!”

The two looked towards the hallway to find Roy standing there, pointing at Wally. “I told you he’d say yes! You owe me ten bucks!”

He sprinted off while Wally scowled and Dick stared at his best friend. “Wally?”

Wally chuckled. “I...have been meaning to ask you out for awhile. And then Roy and I made a bet on whether you’d say yes cause Roy’s an assbag-”

“Language, fuckwad!” Roy called from down the hall.

Wally rolled his eyes. “Anyway...yeah, now I owe him ten bucks.”

“Aw, I think it’s sweet that you were nervous.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Now I get to be the tough one in the relationship!”

Dick cackled as Wally sat next to him, a pout on his face.

………………………..

THREE YEARS LATER

*Dick is twenty-three

**yes I did a big ass time skip, suck it up

Dick woke in the middle of the night with the creeping sensation that he was being watched. Quietly extracting himself from Wally’s bed, Dick withdrew his katana from its sheath and crept out of the bedroom.

He slipped into the living room, freezing at the outline of a figure on the couch before huffing.

“You could have just called,” he told him, walking over to flip on the lamp, bathing the pair in light. “How did you find me?”

“You don’t think I have ways to track my kids?” Slade asked, leaning back on the couch with one leg slung over the other. “What are you doing here?”

“I think I have more of a reason to be here than you do, actually,” Dick replied, still gripping the katana in hand and not bothering to come any closer. Some might take in the sight of Slade’s t-shirt and jeans and use that as their cue to relax but Dick wasn’t stupid.

Slade didn’t have to look armed to be armed.

“Fair enough,” Slade returned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah?” Dick asked. “Funny, cause I’ve been avoiding you.”

“I know.” Slade’s expression was sad as he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Did I do something?”

“It’s more something you didn’t do, actually,” Dick muttered, mostly to himself though he knew Slade’s enhanced hearing meant the man would hear anyway. Dick sighed quietly. “You never intended to let me take contracts on my own, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Slade confirmed. “I failed to prevent Grant and Rose from following me down that path, I was going to make damn sure you couldn’t. I guess I failed.”

Dick sighed, walking over to take a seat on the armchair near the couch. “You didn’t,” he mumbled, toying with the katana between his hands. “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Why?” Slade asked. “You seemed so intent before, on taking your own contract. Why haven’t you done anything?”

“I don’t want my first kill to be someone I don’t even know just for a paycheck,” Dick replied. “I want a reason to start taking lives. One that isn’t just...money.”

“And have you found that?” Slade asked. “A reason?”

“I’ve had a reason for a long time,” Dick replied. “Just haven’t found the person.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“Sort of. I...I know why I want them dead, I just don’t know who they are.”

“Elaborate?”

“The man who killed my parents, for starters,” Dick said firmly. “After that, I want to find who left me in that dumpster to die.”

Slade nodded. He stayed quiet and though Dick had no intention of saying anything about it, something told him Slade knew who had left him there.

He’d contact Wintergreen, he decided. If Slade knew something, you could be damn sure Wintergreen knew first. Plus Slade knew where he was now so there was no harm in calling Wintergreen.

“Why are you here?” Dick asked, finally breaking the long silence. “You wouldn’t be here to check up on me because-”

“I am,” Slade said quietly. “Here to check on you. I merely waited because I knew you’d...wake up. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, we’ve talked,” Dick declared as he wearily got to his feet. “Now leave.”

Slade nodded and stood as well. The pair stared at one another for a long time before Slade spoke softly.

“Whatever you learn, about who left you there,” he said softly. “Keep a calm and level head. Anger will only get you hurt.”

“I know.” Dick nodded. “Thank you, dad.”

When he looked up again, Slade was gone.

Chapter Text

TWENTY-THREE YEARS EARLIER

“Can I just say, this is one of your worst ideas,” Wintergreen mused over the phone, baby Thomas Grayson held in his arms, fast asleep. “Why can’t we just leave the boy for a Gotham orphanage?”

“You know how terrible they are, Wintergreen,” Slade replied. “Where did you find him, anyway?”

“A member of the circus took him after his parents death,” Wintergreen replied. “They were going to trade him off to a group called The Court of Owls. Apparently the entire Circus was in agreement to do that. They only needed-”

“The parents out of the way,” Slade concluded.

“Not that you’re much better than they are,” Wintergreen muttered. “Painting yourself as his savior.”

“He never has to know about The Court, Wintergreen. In fact, I never intend to tell him.”

Wintergreen sighed. “So, run your fool plan by me again?”

“I’m stopping at a bar in Gotham after my current contract, you know which one,” Slade began. “You know how long I’ll be in there, you know when I’ll leave. Your job-”

“Is to leave the wailing baby in a dumpster for you to ‘find’, yes, I know.” Wintergreen sighed. “Do you ever intend to tell him the truth?”

“I intend to tell him of his parents' death,” Slade answered. “I will not tell him-”

……………………

NOW

“-That the entire thing was a set up.”

Dick’s lips parted as he stared numbly at Wintergreen. “What?”

The man nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Dick shook his head. “No, that’s...that’s…” he stared up at Wintergreen. “He lied to me. He said he didn’t know who put me there, he-” Dick swallowed thickly. “He only ever wanted me for an apprentice.”

“Richard-”

“It always comes down to this, always his stupid reputation.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t-”

“And I gave him exactly what he wanted.”

Wintergreen’s expression softened. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have. Did he even...did he ever actually care about me or was I just a pawn?”

“Of course, Dick. He has always cared for you.”

The two sat in silence for a moment until Dick’s blood suddenly burned in his veins, blue eyes blazing as he glared at Wintergreen. “ You supported it. You knew all this time ! And you never told me!”

He was on his feet and screaming by the end of it and Wintergreen was just glad it was only the two of the alone at the moment, Jason, Roy, and Wally elsewhere for the day.

“I never supported it. Don’t think for one moment that I ever-”

“You supported the lie ,” Dick snapped. “You knew all this time that he set it up and...and to think I…” Dick shook his head. “Get out.”

“Richard-”

“Get out!” Dick screamed, grabbing the closest thing - a vase - and throwing it at Wintergreen with scarily accurate aim, the man barley able to dodge out of the way in time.

He didn’t bother to apologize again, knowing how useless that would be. Instead he turned and left, picking up his phone and dialing Slade.

“How did he take it?”

“I’d lay low and leave him be, for the time being,” Wintergreen replied as he pulled out of the driveway and got back onto the road. “He was furious.”

“As expected.”

Wintergreen sighed. “Slade, I understand that you were trying to mend the troubles between you two but I think you just burned the bridge entirely. If he sees you again, he will kill you.”

“He won’t.”

“Anger makes people do strange things. Remember Adeline?”

Slade scowled.

…………………………..

Dick heard the quiet knock on his door but couldn’t bring himself to get up so he chucked his pillow at the door, hoping whoever was on the other side would take the muffled thump as an invitation to come in.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open and Wally stepped in. “Hey, you okay?”

Dick had told him about his talk with Slade the night before and Wally had known Wintergreen was coming over to talk to Dick about something.

“He lied to me,” Dick said quietly, still curled up on his side and staring blankly at the wall. “All these years and he was the one who put me in that dumpster.” Dick gave a soft laugh. “And here I was, spending the last twenty some years feeling grateful to the son of a bitch.”

“Oh man, I’m…” Wally crept forward to hesitantly sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m really sorry, dude.”

Dick heaved a long, tired sigh. “I wouldn’t be so angry, I don’t think, if he’d just...he was the only family I had , Wally, and now he’s...now I don’t have anyone.”

“Hey, that’s not true at all,” Wally insisted, reaching out to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “You have me. Your wonderful, loving, cheerful, caring, speedy-”

“ Vain ,” Dick added with a small laugh.

“Lovable boyfriend.”

“You already said loving.”

“I think it needs repeating.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Thanks Wally.”

“But you have Roy too,” Wally reminded him. “And his weird boyfriend.”

“Jason.”

“Jason’s weird.”

Dick smiled as he pushed himself up right. “Yeah, Jason is weird.”

“A good weird. But...like...weird. And hey, if you ever want to talk about shitty parents, talk to him. He’s dad was the freaking Batman .”

“Batman’s a bad dad?”

“First, yeah according to Jason,” Wally began. “Second, he’s Batman. Anyone who sticks there little kiddo out on the streets when they’re twelve is automatically a bad parent.”

“Should we be worried then that that technically means Deathstroke the Terminator is a better parent?”

“Nah, Deathstroke’s disqualified for lying to you.”

Dick smiled, leaning over to pull Wally into a tight hug. “Thanks, Walls.”

“Also I may have sort of gotten into a fight with Artemis, Green Arrow’s sidekick, and I may have sort of hinted that I have a boyfriend.”

“Okay?”

“And I may have sorta said it was Renegade, Deathstroke’s son.”

“Wally!”

“So now they all want to meet you.”

Dick threw a pillow at him.

Chapter Text

“So how am I introducing you?” Wally asked, bouncing along Dick’s side as the two of them walked down the sidewalk towards the pizza place they were meeting the Young Justice team at. “Renegade? Dick? Richard Wilson?”

Dick took a deep breath, shaking his head fondly. “Just Dick,” he replied. “I’m not...I’m not Richard Wilson anymore but I’m not whoever I was before Slade. I’m just...Dick.”

“Okay then just Dick ,” Wally drawled, throwing an arm around Dick’s shoulders as they approached the table where the rest of young justice was seated. “Meet the team.”

The team consisted of Artemis, the blonde archer side kick of Green Arrow, a green martian named M’gann, Connor (a clone of Superman), an Atlantian named Aqualad, and, of course, Wally.

They hadn’t been sitting there long, maybe fifteen minutes, when M’gann spoke up.

“So Dick,” she said with a cheerful smile. “How long have you and Wally been a couple?”

“About three years now,” Dick replied.

“And may I ask,” Aqualad - Kaldur - began, polite as always. “Are you still Renegade?”

“No, I…” Dick sighed. “I left that behind a long time ago. Granted, I still keep blades on me because you can never be too careful with a supervillain for a father-” He missed the look Artemis shot him. “But it’s better. I haven’t seen him for a few weeks, good fucking riddance.”

“We’re still working through these anger issues,” Wally said with a bright grin.

Dick shook his head though there was no denying that he was smiling too. “I’ll show you anger issues.”

“You have, babe,” Wally reminded him, pecking his cheek. “Many times.”

“You guys are so cute !” M’gann squealed. She gasped, suddenly. “Are you ever going to get married!?”

Dick laughed loudly. “We have to get engaged first, don’t we?”

Wally grinned. “That can be arranged.”

Dick frownd over at him. “What are you-”

He cut himself off, frowning harder when Wally pushed his chair out and got down on one knee.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Dick whispered. But he sounded more choked up than hurt, especially when Wally pulled out a box.

“Richard whatever your last name is right now ,” Wally began, smiling when Dick laughed quietly. “Will you marry me?”

“Gosh, why’d you have to propose in public?” Dick asked, laughing. “I mean, yeah I’ll say yes but now I’m gonna cry!”

Wally laughed, the crowd of on lookers and his own team cheering him on and he dragged Dick into a hug, letting the other hide his face until they were both sure Dick wasn’t going to burst into tears.

……………………………….

Roy and Jason were waiting in the living room when they got back. “Congratulations, lovebirds!” Roy said, grinning.

“You two knew!?” Dick demanded.

“Obviously we knew,” Jason replied. “We were the ones that went with him to the store for the ring the other day.”

“Jay, you can’t keep a secret to save your life,” Dick snapped, hands on his hips. “How did you keep this?”

“The magic of Roy keeping me away from you,” Jason replied honestly.

Dick rolled his eyes, leaning into Wally’s side when his fiancee walked over to him and drew him close.

“Hey, just to check,” Wally said. “It’s a yes, right? Like I mean, you didn’t just say yes cause we were in public, right?”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Yes, Wally, it’s a yes,” he replied with a fond smile.

Wally grinned before suddenly gasping loudly. “I gotta tell Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris!” he ran off while Dick merely rolled his eyes fondly.

………………………………

A few days after the proposal, Dick and Jason were sitting together on the porch when Jason spoke.

“Would you ever go back?” he asked. “I mean like...could you ever forgive him?”

“Who?”

“Deathstroke. Slade. Your dad, whatever you want to call him.”

Dick sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I mean, he lied to me. I can’t ever forget that. But he saved me from some group called The Court of Owls so…” he looked over at Jason, a small smile on his face. “Do you actually care or are you using my problems to justify yours?”

Jason shrugged. “Both, I guess,” he replied. “I mean...at least I knew my parents before Bruce took me in.”

“Would you go back?” Dick asked. “To Bruce?”

“Fuck no,” Jason replied without thought. “That asshole let me die then replaced me with this tiny little puke of a kid and apparently he’s got a demon son so really…” Jason shrugged though his angry tone had trailed off into something less convincing. “Really, I’m just…I should be...thankful, I guess.”

“Jason, he was sort of your father figure,” Dick murmured. “It’s okay to miss him.”

“I don’t miss him,” Jason snapped as he got to his feet. “I’m fucking fine and the next time I see him, I’m gonna shoot his little duckling in the kneecap.”

He turned and left but not before Dick heard the hitch in his words that indicated tears. Sighing quietly, Dick sat out on the porch alone for a few moments before finally getting up and heading back inside.

Chapter Text

Dick was walking to his car after his shift in a Central City bar, keys in hand and humming under his breath, when he felt eyes on his back. He tensed, only to immediately heave a sigh, turning to stalk over towards a nearby ally.

“Are you just going to stalk me for the rest of my life now?”

There was a long moment of silence before Deathstroke stepped out of the shadows.

“I heard you got engaged.”

“Heard or watched, stalker?” Dick demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Deathstroke didn’t reply. “Congratulations.”

“What do you want ?”

“To make amends.”

Dick raised an eyebrow. “Deathstroke The Terminator wants to apologize?”

“I know I lied, Dick-”

“Lied, manipulated, misled,” Dick ticked off on his fingers. “Kidnapped-”

“I saved you.”

“For your own personal gain,” Dick snapped.

“No,” Deathstroke said firmly. “I saved you from The Court, Dick.”

“You just had to make yourself look like the savior.”

“I had to make The Court think you were dead. But that never meant I didn’t care. Dick, I have always cared about you. You were my son. My chance to do better, to raise you right .”

“But you lied.”

“I lied,” Deathstroke repeated. “I shouldn’t have. I made a mistake, Dick.”

“Did you ever really want me to help?” Dick asked. “With Deathstroke?”

“No. Never.”

“Then why let me? Why train me, why give me a suit, why let me come along?”

“I thought that way I could keep you close,” Deathstroke replied. “Keep you satisfied while also keeping your hands clean of blood.”

Dick pressed his lips together. “Well, you did that right at least,” he murmured.

“I don’t get expect you to ever forgive me,” Deathstroke went on. “But I don’t want you to hold onto this anger, this hatred for the rest of your life. Believe me, Dick, it will destroy you.”

“What if I don’t want to let go of the anger?” Dick asked, arms crossed over his chest. “What if I take up a gun, just like you, and kill the man who killed my parents?”

“Don’t.” was Deathstroke’s reply. “If you want to start killing, start taking contracts, then I can’t stop you. But don’t…” he sighed quietly, reaching up to finally remove his mask. “Don’t do that, Dick. Belive me when I say that killing out of anger takes something from you. Makes you something less than human. You want revenge and no one understands that more than me but killing for revenge is never going fill the void you feel.”

“You know from experience, do you?” Dick asked.

“Do you think I would have come this far if I didn’t?” Slade asked.

Dick nodded, licking his lips before giving a fraction of a smile and whispering, “You shouldn’t have kids.”

Slade’s own lips ticked up in a small smile. “No, I shouldn’t. Shame it took me over eighteen years to realize that.”

The pair were quiet for a moment before Dick asked, “What would I have become? If The Court of Owls had gotten me? If you hadn’t stepped in?”

“A Talon,” Slade replied. “One of theri assassins.”

“So I would have killed regardless.”

“Mm.”

Dick sighed quietly. “I’m still mad at you,” he decided. “I don’t think this is something I’ll get over quickly or easily, or…” he pressed his lips together. “I’m still mad but I do forgive you.”

Slade nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll stop hiding from you.”

Slade laughed. “I always knew where you were, Dick,” he said with a smile. “You were never hiding.”

“I know,” Dick admitted. “Still, nice to at least have the illusion.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

Dick nodded and started to turn towards his car, only to pause at the last minute, having one last thing he wanted to say.

“Hey, you might suck as a dad,” he started, waiting for Slade to turn back around to face him. “But...you kept me alive, at least. You kept me safe. That’s what’s most important, even if our relationship was built on lies.”

Slade nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Dick smiled softly. “I forgive you.”

Slade shook his head. "You're too nice, kid," he murmured. "One of these days, it's going to get you hurt."

Dick only shrugged. "Well, good thing I had the best self-defense teacher in the world."

Slade smiled.

Chapter Text

On his way back to Wally’s, a thought struck Dick and without much thought, he picked up his phone and called Roy.

“ Hey, Wally’s freaking out cause you’re not back.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “ Tell him I’m fine but I might not be back for a few days.”

Roy was quiet for a few minutes. “ Shit, Deathstroke? ”

“Yes and no,” Dick replied with a sigh. “I just...I have something I need to deal with. It wasn’t Deathstroke and it’s more for a friend, really. Look, I’m going to be okay. I can handle myself and you know I’ve got a dozen some weapons in the car. Tell Wally to quit worrying. I’ll be fine and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Roy sighed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. Pretty sure I’m going to need it.”

………………………………..

“May I help you, sir?”

Jason had never talked much about his life at Wayne Manor, mostly spending that time complaining about Bruce but he had mentioned the butler, Alfred Pennyworth, in depth.

“Hi,” Dick said with a weak smile. “I am so sorry. I-I know it’s late but I really need to talk to Mr. Wayne.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“It’s about his son, Jason.”

“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid it’s a bit late-”

“I know he’s Batman,” Dick said as the butler started to close the door. “And I know he’s not asleep, not yet.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, opening the door a bit more. “Well then,” he said. “Follow me.”

……………………………..

“Woah,” Dick whispered as he and Alfred made their way into the cave. “Jay said it was big but I never imagined... this !”

Alfred chuckled. “Indeed, sir, many don’t.”

Dick nodded, coming to a stop when Alfred indicated him to, the older man walking towards the large computer where two figures were crowded around the chair.

Dick didn’t hear what Alfred said but the two young figures did turn to stare at him. The short one with a scowl on his face had to be the demon son Jason had mentioned and the other must have been Jason’s ‘replacement’.

“Who are you?” the small one snapped, stalking towards Dick with rage in his green eyes.

“My name is Dick,” Dick replied. “I’m here to talk to Bruce.”

“About what?”

Dick looked up towards the replacement as he replied. “About Jason Todd.”

Silence fell over the cave before a low voice came from the computer. “Jason Todd is dead.”

“He’s not.”

“He was blown up.”

“And now he’s alive.”

Silence again before Batman finally stood. Dick wasn’t intimated as everyone probably expected him to be. It was hard to be intimidated by Batman when you’d been raised by Deathstroke The Terminator who was not only taller than Bruce Wayne but also far more dangerous.

“I know who you are so you can take off the mask,” Dick said once Bruce had approached. “We’ve met before, remember? I was the kid you thought Deathstroke kidnapped? Like, ten years ago?”

Batman grunted but did removed the mask, blue eyes blazing. “Jason Todd-”

“Is alive and pissed that you’ve replaced him,” Dick said calmly. “Or at least, he says you’ve replaced him.”

“You don’t believe that?” the replacement asked.

“No, I don’t,” Dick replied. “But I was hoping to talk to you, Mr. Wayne. Find out the truth.”

“Why?”

“If I can get Deathstroke The Terminator to say he’s sorry, I think I can get Batman to do the same.”

Bruce grunted. “What makes you think I need to apologize?”

“I don’t think you need to apologize , per say,” Dick replied. “But I think Jason really needs to hear the truth.”

“And what truth do you think that is?”

“That you didn’t replace him,” Dick replied confidently. “That you didn’t have more important priorities that night. That you wish you could have saved him. That you feel like you failed him. That you mourned for him.”

Bruce pressed his lips together. “And what makes you think any of that is true?”

“Because you have the same face that dad did, when talking about how he failed to save Joey. You look exactly like him when we visited Joey’s gravesite.”

“Perhaps Mr. Wlson has a point, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.

“It’s not Wilson,” Dick said. “Sorry, it’s...not Wilson.”

“I see, sir. And what might I call you?”

Dick opened his mouth to say ‘just Richard is fine’ before an idea struck him instead and he replied,

“Mr. West.”

“Very well, Mr. West. Master Bruce, why don’t the two of you retire to your study while I get some tea. It seems you both have quite a lot to talk about.”

Chapter Text

“Thought I’d find you out here.”

Dick chuckled, glancing over as Jason dropped onto the couch next to him. “Yeah?” he asked.

“Wally was freaking out cause you wouldn’t tell Roy where you were going, only that you wouldn’t be back for awhile,” Jason said with a huff, snatching Dick’s beer bottle from his hand and draining whatever was left in one go.

“I just...was talking. And then I had something to do.”

“Who were you talking with?”

“Dad.” And Bruce Wayne.

Jason grunted. “And?”

“And I forgive him,” Dick replied. “He tried, you know? Maybe he did things the wrong way but he tried . And I’m sorry the same can’t be said for your dad.”

“Bruce isn’t my dad. Never was, never will be.”

“You won’t consider even listening to him?”

“What’s he going to say?” Jason snapped. “That he had other priorities that night? That his son, no, his soldier wasn’t the most important thing on his list?”

“I don’t know, Jason, maybe he’ll tell you how sorry he was he couldn’t get there in time,” Dick replied. “Maybe he’ll tell you he mourned for you. That he nearly broke his code for you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, looking over at Dick. “You know something I don’t, don’t you?”

Dick shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied. “But maybe you should talk to him. You never know.”

“Fuck,” Jason whispered, torn between anger and feeling touched. “You talked to Bruce, didn’t you!? That’s where you were going!?”

“Yes.”

“You drove all the way to Gotham City to chastise Batman?”

“You sound surprised,” Dick said calmly.

Jason shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

“Because there’s something wrong in the world if Deathstroke the terminator can get his head out of his ass but Bruce Wayne can’t.”

“He can’t.”

“You need to talk to him, Jason,” Dick said softly, reaching over to place a hand on Jason’s wrist. 

“No. He replaced me, I can’t-”

“Believe me when I say you don’t know the full story,” Dick said as he stood. “Just talk to him. Please .”

…………………………

“Dick?” Wally mumbled, prying one eye open but still mostly asleep as Dick slunk into the room, keeping the lights off as he started undressing and pulling on his pajamas. It was nearly three AM now and he was beyond exhausted.

“Hey, it’s me,” Dick whispered, forgoing a pajama shirt and just slipping into a pair of sweatpants before crawling into bed and pressing a kiss to Wally’s forehead. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Nah, heard Jason out there,” Wally replied, yawning and snuggling closer to Dick. “You alright? You’re out late.”

“Had to do Jay a favor.”

“He didn’t sound like he appreciated it.”

Dick snorted. “He will,” he said. “Eventually.”

Wally shrugged. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dick replied, surprised to find it was mostly true. “I’m really, really fine, Wally.”

Wally hummed, tugging Dick closer. “Go to sleep now. And don’t even think about getting up at six AM, yeah? Try to get more than three hours of sleep this time.”

Dick rolled his eyes as he got comfortable and let his eyes slide closed. “Yeah, alright. Night Wally.”

“Night babe.”

……………………………

“Where’s Jason?” Roy asked the next day as he and Dick and Wally were out at the mall spending the day together. “He got up really early and said he had to go then he just left and didn’t tell me where he was going.”

“I had a little talk with him last night,” Dick replied. “He might have just been actually taking my advice.”

“Which was?”

“Between him and I,” Dick said with a smile. “If he wants to share, he will. For now , let’s get Wally some food because he looks like he’s gonna cry.”

“I am not ,” Wally declared petulantly as they made their way to the food court. “I just like food, alright?”

Roy sniggered. “Okay, baby ,” he tunated. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

And walking with his fiancee and one of his best friends, Dick found himself happier than he had been in a long time.

Chapter Text

Even though he knew it was probably nothing but his dad’s ever present paranoia - something Dick definitely remembered from his childhood - he couldn’t help but keep thinking about what Slade had said after their meeting.

“ You’re too nice, kid. One of these days, it’s going to get you hurt.”

Dick figured that, any other time, he really could have just chalked it up to Slade’s paranoia and went on his way. And yet…

And yet he knew Slade was no longer in the country, having taken a contract in Africa. Which meant DIck couldn’t get in contact with him.

And usually when Slade left the country it was to go into hiding. Not something he did often when Dick was a kid but there was always the occasional trip to another country that Dick had always enjoyed, never hearing the whispered words between his father and ‘Uncle Billy’ long after he’d gone to sleep.

Now though? Now it made him wonder if he was in danger. But if he was, why hadn’t Slade just-

“Babe?”

Dick hummed quietly, rolling over to face Wally who still looked half asleep. “Why are you awake?” Dick asked quietly.

Wally yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Drifting, mostly,” he replied. “Wasn’t asleep yet.”

“Okay, why aren’t you asleep?”

“Why aren't you?”

Dick shrugged, not wanting to drag his fiancee into his problems, especially if he really was in danger.

God, why did Slade always have to be so fucking cryptic?

“Just thinking,” he replied.

“About what?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

That had the opposite effect Dick had been hoping for because now Wally seemed to wake up even more. Dick groaned quietly, flopping onto his back as Wally sat up and flipped on the light.

“Dick, what is it?”

Dick sighed, knowing there was no stopping Wally. The other wouldn’t leave him alone until he had answers.

“When I was a kid,” he started. “Dad never took contracts out of the country to the point that I don’t even know if that was something he did...before.”

Wally nodded, ever the attentive fiancee. “Okay?”

“He only ever left the country when he needed to go into hiding,” Dick went on. “And now…”

“Now?”

“When I talked to him a few weeks ago, he said I’m too nice and it’s going to get me hurt. And now all of the sudden, he’s left the country. And now I’m wondering...now I’m terrified that maybe I’m in danger.”

“Wouldn’t he have told you?”

Dick sighed, shaking his head. “I may have forgiven him but I still feel like I don’t know who he really is. I’m not stupid, I know people say Deathstroke only works for personal gain. Hell, I’ve yelled that in his face over the last few weeks. But...but would he really abandon me? I mean, this puts us right back into the place where I’m wondering if he ever cared for me at all.”

“So what do you want to do?” Wally asked. “I’m by your side, Dick, all the way. You have my word.”

Dick shook his head with a sad smile. “We can’t do anything, not yet,” he replied. “I don’t even know if I’ve somehow just inherited his paranoia or if maybe there really is someone after me.”

“So what can we do?” Wally asked.

“We watch,” Dick replied. “And if someone attacks, we take them down.”

…………………………

TWENTY YEARS EARLIER

“Have you ever traveled with a three year old, Slade?” Wintergreen asked as he drove Slade to the private plane they’d rented which would take Slade to one of his more remote properties on a caribbean beach resort.

“No,” Slade replied, looking over at three year old Richard who was fast asleep in his car seat. Slade was glad he’d fallen asleep since the toddler had been extremely grouchy when Slade had gotten him up around two-thirty in the morning half an hour ago.

“Well then, this will be entertaining to watch,” Wintergreen said with a smile, meeting Slade’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Just wait until his ears pop on the plane.”

………………………..

As Slade walked back and forth in the cabin of the private plane with Richard screaming at the top of his lungs, he made a mental note to never, ever travel with Richard ever again. At least until he wasn’t a baby anymore.

Slade was already looking forward to when Richard was able to walk and talk and was out of diapers.

“Entertained?” Slade asked Wintergreen, taking a seat once Richard had finally stopped screaming and crying, tears just dripping down his fat baby cheeks as he clung to Slade’s shirt.

“Very,” Wintergreen replied, smiling.

Slade rolled his eye before reaching into the diaper bag and pulling out one of Richard’s teething toys, letting out a quiet breath of relief when the toddler took it in his tiny hand and began nomming miserably on it (and also part of Slade’s shoulder).

“I think he’ll like the beach,” Wintergreen said. “Maybe not the sand but the ocean.”

Slade smiled slightly. “He does enjoy water,” he muttered.

“He is the only toddler I have ever met who enjoys bath time,” Wintergreen commented with a laugh. “Doesn’t he cry every time you try to get him out?”

“Yep.”

Wintergreen smiled, shaking his head. “You’re a good father, Slade,” he told his old friend. “Maybe not to the first three, but you’ve more than made up for it with Richard. I will admit, I was worried. But you’ve proved me wrong.”

“I care about him,” Slade said softly, rubbing his hand over Richard’s back. “I would do anything for him. I will do anything for him.”