Chapter Text
Of all the contracts Slade had taken, the one that was not only the strangest but also had the most permanent effect on his life would be when he’d been hired by none other than The Court of Owls themselves to take out one of their rogue Talons.
“You are unpredictable to him,” The Grandmaster had explained. “If we send another Talon, he will be able to hold his own or take them down as he’s trained alongside them. You, however, he will not be able to win against.”
So Slade had taken the contract more for little else to do than anything else. And he’d had every intention of killing the little Talon too. At least, until he met him. The Talon - The Gray Son, as The Court had more specifically called him - was a child , with big golden eyes staring up at Slade as the mercenary towered over him with katana in hand.
But the child did not draw blade nor hand to fight, merely staring up at Slade with his head tilted to the side and curiosity in his golden yellow eyes.
You are unpredictable to him. You, however, he will not be able to win against.
Not because he couldn’t predict Slade’s moves, it seemed, but instead because he would be too curious to even try. The little thing did seem to recognize the danger in the mercenary because he hadn’t come any closer form where he’d violently flinched behind the dumpster when Slade had withdrawn his katana, but he was making no move to fight back.
Slowly sheathing his weapon, Slade carefully crouched down and looked around before slowly removing his helmet, noting the way the child’s head tilted even further to the side. No doubt hadn’t expected something so normal beneath the orange and black. Had probably expected something closer to a Talon.
“It’s alright,” Slade murmured softly, gently, reaching one of his hands out and watching as the little Talon tucked himself a bit further away. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Not anymore. “Come here.”
As the first response to Slade that evening, the tiny Talon adamantly shook his head. Of course, Slade had expected that so he very slowly took a cross legged seat on the ground, removing his katanas and guns and laying them out on the ground in front of himself before removing his gloves and placing his hands on his knees.
And then he waited. It wasn’t like he was in any rush, either. The Court hadn’t asked him to report back or deliver a body. Just that he dispose of the body when the Talon was dead. Therefore, Slade had absolutely nowhere else to go.
He could outlast this little Talon.
………………………………………………
It only took a shocking two hours, forty-eight minutes, and ten seconds before the tiny Talon slowly and carefully crept out of the corner, eyeing Slade and the weapons as he slowly crawled over.
He was even tinier than Slade had originally suspected, probably only thirteen years old. At least physically, that is, since Talons age far slower due to their enhancements. Physically the boy was thirteen but realistically, he could have been born in 1902 for all Slade knew.
The Talon eyed the weapons, eyed Slade, before asking in a tiny, hoarse voice, “Who?”
“My name is Slade,” Slade introduced softly.
Talon eyed the weapons again. “Hurt?” he asked, tilting his head back to Slade.
“Hurt?” Slade repeated.
Talon curled away but didn’t scamper back to the corner, at least. “Hurt Talon?” he whispered.
Slade felt a bit of rage towards The Court boil. How dare they take this child and hurt him. How dare they take this child and torture him, train him to think anyone coming towards him was going to hurt him.
When had this child escaped? How many Talons had they sent to kill him before they realized an unpredictable enemy would work better?
“No,” Slade replied. “I want to help you.”
“Help?”
“Protect you,” Slade elaborated even though he doubted that helped Talon understand. “From The Court.”
The Talon whimpered at the mention, frantically looking around. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Always watching.”
“That’s why I want to protect you,” Slade murmured. “I won’t let The Court hurt you.”
Talon blinked at him before creeping within arms reach, hesitating for just a moment before tentatively reaching out to press his fingers to the back of Slade’s hand. The reaction on both their parts was immediate, Talon jerking back and scrambling away with a hiss as Slade drew his hand back to himself at the same speed.
“You’re freezing,” Slade murmured. He’d known a lack of temperature had been part of the Talons’ enhancements but feeling it was another thing all together.
“Hot,” Talon told him with an accusatory tone, cradling his hand to his chest and staring at Slade. They stared at one another for a bit longer before Talon whispered, “Protect?”
“With my life.”
……………………………………………..
“Slade, what is that?” Wintergreen asked as Slade carefully slipped through the window, Talon clinging to his side.
“This is Talon,” Slade replied, carefully settling the boy on the couch and not missing the way the child clung to his wrist at the sight of Wintergreen.
“I see,” Wintergreen replied. “And why is he here?”
“I promised to protect him,” Slade replied. “I intend to keep that promise.”
Wintergreen blinked, regarding the child, before saying, “He needs clothes.”
“I still have some of Joey’s.”
“Alright,” Wintergreen agreed. “Fair enough. Is there anything you need before I head out for the night?”
“I don’t think so,” Slade replied. “Thank you, Wintergreen.”
“Of course. And congratulations on your new role of father.”
Slade sneered. “Get out.”
Wintergreen laughed as he left.
…………………………………………….
Talon stared blankly at Slade where he was seated on the bathroom vanity, still dressed in his black Talon suit - sans gloves - as Slade began filling the bath.
“You’re not afraid of water, are you?” Slade asked after he’d started running the tap, turning back to the Talon who had grabbed Slade’s toothpaste and was mere seconds from squirting it into his mouth. “Don’t eat that.”
“Warm?” Talon asked, eyeing the tub and leaning into Slade as the mercenary reached around the child to put the toothpaste away.
“It will be,” Slade replied, placing his hands on the countertop on either side of the Talon’s legs, leaning down so they were eye to eye. “What’s your name?”
The Talon blinked at him before reaching out and placing his icy hand on Slade’s cheek as he remarked,
“Warm.”
“Yes, I am,” Slade agreed, trying not to shiver. “I’m enhanced too.”
“Too?”
“What’s your name?”
Talon cocked his head to the side. “Talon.”
“Your real -” Slade cut himself. “Nevermind, I’ll figure it out myself.”
I’ve had him for thirty minutes and I’m already getting irritated .
He grumbled as he turned back to the tub to test the water temperature and level. He took the chance to take a deep breath as he turned off the tap and turned around just in time to watch Talon squirt a decent amount of toothpaste into his mouth.
“Yeah, should have seen that coming,” Slade muttered as he walked over and took the toothpaste, waving it in Talon’s face as he firmly said, “No.”
Talon merely blinked at him as he swallowed his mouthful of toothpaste and started reaching for the tube, falling into Slade’s chest when the mercenary moved the container out of his reach. Sighing, Slade put the toothpaste down before scooping the Talon up right before the child could reach for the toothpaste again.
“You’re determined, aren’t you?” Slade asked as he turned and set Talon on his feet, beginning to strip the child of his suit and many, many, many knives. Once the boy was naked - skin just was white as his face - Slade scooped him up again and placed him in the etub.
“Warm!” Talon chirped, delighted.
“Yeah, it is,” Slade agreed as he carefully took a seat on the edge of the tub, watching the Talon splash around in the water and feeling a small smile creep on his face at the innocence of it. “Good?”
“Warm!”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
It takes a bit of coaxing - Talon is apparently still terrified of him - but Slade does manage to clean the dirty child and even wash his hair. It’s when it’s time to get him into bed that trouble happens.
“Soft,” Talon whispered, pressing gently at the mattress of the bed but not climbing in yet.
“Yeah, it is,” Slade replied. He’s not going to sleep in the same bed as Talon so he’s dragged one of the living room chairs into the bedroom so they can be in the same room but so they’re not sharing a bed. “Are you going to get in?”
“Trick?”
Slade’s anger appeared out of nowhere and the urge to punch something grew. Unfortunately, the only something around was a brainwashed, tortured child , so he merely tamped down his irritation and shook his head.
“No trick,” he promised. “It’s for you.”
“Talons hurt Gray Son.”
“Yeah, I bet they did.” This kid is really trying Slade’s patience.
“ You hurt Gray Son?”
“No. Never.”
And for some reason, that seems to be all the kid needs to hear because he slowly crawls into bed, decked out in a pair of Joey’s pajamas that are just slightly too bed, curling up under the blanket and passing out mere seconds after his head hits the pillow.
Letting out a long, slow breath and knowing his rage won’t let him sleep for awhile, Slade - now dressed in a more comfortable t-shirt and sweats - settles into the chair to try and get comfortable for when his anger simmers down and he’s able to sleep.