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Slade sat, hunched over his desk - but he wasn’t working. He hadn’t been able to, not since Grayson had become his problem to deal with.
He had known that the Nightwing had gone down; he had spent enough time fishing the buggers that had survived out of the water to know very well that her captain had been kidnapped. So he had sent those fuckers off with Wintergreen to get them to a shore, and he had gone after Blockbuster.
He had found it, tracking the ship down after too-many days. They had thought he had come for them because they had ripped off Rose; that he had come to avenge his child as viciously as he avenged those that had - truly - harmed Grant. They had offered Grayson up on a silver platter.
Slade had taken it, storming onto their ship and glaring at anyone around him. He ensured that he was producing enough back off/pissed alpha scent that no one would come near him. It kept everyone giving him a wide berth, keeping him free of having to make conversation.
Considering that Slade didn’t even know that they had ripped off Rose - he didn’t need to give himself away.
Then they had dragged up Grayson; or rather; Grayson had dragged himself up from below deck. It had taken a lot for Slade not to start growling and taking heads when he had seen the state of the - presumed - Beta.
Grayson was wet, as though they had dragged him into the snow that had fallen the day before and then left him to melt it off - or they had waterboarded the Captain. Both were possible, but Grayson’s breathing didn’t indicate that he had been force-fed water. They way he was shivering, though, said that he had been left out in the cold.
His eyes were dulled, the usual bright blue as dark as the sea around them. He had lines around them, and Slade had no doubt he had been blindfolded. His uniform had been in tatters, and had done nothing to hide the many wounds dotting around his body. The bonds that had been on his wrists were clearly too tight, as Slade could practically see the blood starting to flow back into his nimble fingers. His wrist looked like it had been broken on his left side, as well as part of the hand itself.
His torso on the right side had one of the worst wounds, with bright red dotting around the edges - it was still bleeding, it seemed. His legs were in much the same state, trembling and clearly afflicted with a variety of wounds. He was keeping all of his weight off of his right leg, awkwardly standing without putting pressure on that foot. Slade was willing to bet he had broken something of himself from the knee down.
As Slade took him in, Grayson moved his hands behind his back. He was staring at him in tired defiance - the captain likely thought that he had just found himself in more trouble.
Slade could see that he had already found himself in a great deal of trouble already.
“So you do have the Captain. He looks… used.” Slade drawled.
Grayson had his clothes on, and with his mask on Slade couldn’t tell if Dick had been… played with , or not.
Slade grimly thought that his thoughts were confirmed as the omega woman smirked and purred.
“Can you blame us? Having such an alluring beta on our ship.”
Grayson, understandably, took offense to having his shoulders touched. Whirling around and hitting her with his good hand, before he collapsed to the ground. His shoulders heaved as he fought to breathe, baring his teeth towards the angry woman.
Before the woman could approach his beta, Slade stalked to his side. Grayson had slowly looked up, and Slade was shaken by the look of exhausted helplessness that he wasn’t bothering to mask anymore.
“Are you here to break me out?” There was no hint of hope in his gaze. Grayson knew he had been sold; and he ‘knew’ he was about to die.
Slade disliked that.
“Get up.” Slade wanted to get the beta away so he could destroy the ship, before Grayson would be seen to, then allowed to figure out that he was safe.
But Grayson just… crumpled . Just hunched in on himself, sinking to the ground in defeat.
Where was the headstrong beta that didn’t know fear? Where was the Captain that sailed the fiercest storms while laughing? Where was the beta who teased him as they sparred? Where was the beta who challenged him at every turn? Where was the beta that teased, toyed, and baited him without fear?
What had they done to his beta?
“I said get up.” Slade growled, reaching down and manhandling him onto his feet.
Grayson knew that he couldn’t risk breaking his façade when it was possible that some of the crew would survive. He knew that this act had to last until they were finally behind closed doors.
“I - I’m sorry.” Dick… keened . He keened, just as a distressed, frightened, in pain Omega would. He slipped out of Slade’s numb hand, crumpling to the deck unmoving - likely unconscious.
Things that had never made complete sense to Slade were adding up. Slade didn’t like how.
“The pretty little thing is an Omega.” The woman was looking at his unconscious Omega like he was undressed. A growl was building in his chest, deep and vicious. “If you would like, Captain, I could give… quite the show.”
Like hell would she be touching his Grayson ever again .
Slade came back to himself, surrounded by bodies. That, of course, wasn’t unusual. Nor was the fact that he was crouching over someone, guarding them, unusual. What was unusual - was just who he was guarding.
It took him minute to remember that Grayson was an omega, had been captured and likely tortured, and that some other omega had wanted permission to touch him.
Slade looked over the carnage; and picked out the parts that had been the woman in question. There were many, and Slade wasn’t sure he could see them all - but she wouldn’t be able to touch his Grayson again.
“Capt -”
Slade was growling again, settling into a defensive stance over his Grayson with his swords drawn.
One of his crew was standing before him, a beta with the scent of honey, with their hands up and neck bared. They waited until Slade had stopped growling, but didn’t bother to see if Slade would lower from his stance.
“Captain,” they repeated, “all of the crew is dead; we’ve looked through the waters and every room aboard - no one is left alive. We sink her down, the crew goes with her. Anything worth taking has been taken - we didn’t think you’d want to leave Nightwing’s Captain to do it yourself.”
Slade huffed at them, finally letting himself crouch beside Dick. “I want the doctor in my cabin before I set foot on Deathstroke.”
“He’s already on his way.”
And now Slade had his unconscious Omega nearing preheat in his personal nest - and he’d never been more unhappy about it.
Grayson was supposed to fall into his nest willingly . The beta - or omega or whatever he wanted to call himself - was supposed to accept his next two courting gifts as he had accepted the first eight and then fall into his nest before they bonded in the coming months.
Grayson wasn’t supposed to be in his nest because he was too panicked to leave it. His beta - or omega or whatever - wasn’t supposed to be trapped in his nest because of his injuries . Grayson was supposed to find comfort in his scent - but not before they had had a conversation about how Slade wasn’t actually trying to be an asshole to him. Grayson had apparently found his scent comforting before they’d had their talk; and that said something about the life he must live.
Grayson was crazy, and while Slade grudgingly loved it about him; it was going to get his lovely ass killed one day.
Slade just hoped that he was there to stop his death - again - and then avenge the murder attempt - again .
He stiffened as distress/fear/NO DON’T overcame the lovely strawberries-and-cream-and-sky scent that was Dick’s apparent natural scent.
It was one of the most pleasant omega scents that Slade had encountered. He had always known that Grayson hid his scent from the world, but Slade had wanted him to share it with just him once the beta had accepted the final courtship gifts.
It wasn’t supposed to be a choice taken away from him after he had been tortured.
Slade was pulled from his thoughts as Dick whimpered. He got up, making a soft, low rumble that he usually used to soothe his hellion menaces that were his pups. Alas, it didn’t work on Grayson.
Slade wasn’t terribly surprised, even if he was disappointed. Dick didn’t truly know him. The Omega - or beta - hadn’t bonded to him. Not yet, at least.
So it only made sense that Grayson wouldn’t be soothed by his rumbling. His scent, he might find familiar and comforting - but he didn’t know vocalizations yet.
That annoyed Slade, because he couldn’t comfort his distressed little blue bird from afar.
“Grayson. You need to wake up.” Slade rumbled.
Grayson curled into an impossibly small ball, whimpering.
“Grayson, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Slade wasn’t concerned; he was annoyed. There was a difference. “You need to uncurl, Grayson. Before you fuck up more of the bones you pretend you don’t have.”
Gently, Slade dragged his wrist over Grayson’s shoulders, scenting the part of his body that he could reach.
Well, you would’ve thought that he had just struck him with a metal-tipped whip that had been dipped in saltwater with how violently Grayson reacted.
A growling snarl ominously rumbling from his chest; Dick pushed himself to the edge of the nest away from Slade.
Slade would have nearly been mollified into backing off - if Dick’s scent hadn’t spiked with sheer terror.
“Don’t touch me!” he barked, scrambling away.
Slade held his hands up, placating the frightened captain and keeping his scent calm and soft. “Grayson, I won’t touch you. You need to remember that you have bones, though.”
They came to a long standstill; Dick panting and growling while smelling like sheer terror, and Slade standing with his hands up while waiting for his head to come back down from the clouds. He would’ve backed away, but he had learnt from Grant - that could also be seen as a threat. If you backed away, but you didn’t do it the way that the Omega wanted, or needed, you to back away - they would see it as a threat.
So Slade kept his ass in place. He didn’t need Grayson trying to bite him and break his teeth, too.
“Please don’t touch me.” Dick said in a small voice at last.
“I ain’t gunna touch you.” Slade said gruffly. “Just… remember that you have bones.”
“What?” Dick looked confused now.
“You have broken bones, little bird. You need to remember that.” Slade grumbled. “The more you forget that fact, the more you’re going to fuck them up. So straighten out again.”
Quietly, looking away from Slade, Dick did as he asked. He straightened out, hissing the entire time. Wordlessly, Slade picked up the vial that the doctor had left behind and tossed it into the nest.
“Thank you.” His voice was so soft, so meek… Slade hated it.
“I ain’t gonna touch ya til after we’ve finished courting, Grayson.” Slade scowled down at the incomplete paperwork on his desk.
“Until we’ve what ?!”