Forgotten Bonds – Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Two
Blue Birthday

March 19th, 2009. Thursday, 1:12 pm.

Slade honestly thought everything was going good.

The boy had reconciled with his friends and was even in contact with them daily with a cell phone that Slade had provided him – not to mention that Dick had a Titans’ communicator as well. The door to the outside world was open to him. Everything seemed like a normal family and Slade was still mentally adjusting to it at times, since there were moments where it all felt strange to him. But he still enjoyed it. It was a slower pace of life, true; but there was something just perfect about it.

He even gave the boy time to acclimate to his new freedom – eliminating the intense training regime from the boy’s schedule. Slade was still planning to give the boy a schedule to keep sometime soon. Dick was still a fourteen year old boy – he still had much to learn and since Slade was the parent, that meant he had the responsibility to keep Dick learning. Slade was already going over all the things that he knew would be most helpful for the future he figured Dick would pursue.

Slade had to chuckle over the thought. What hero could readily say that he had an expert ex-villain teaching him all the knowledge that had been acquired through the years; to train him perfectly in ways a normal hero wouldn’t even imagine? And teach him for the sake of making him the best hero he could become.

Well, Slade had to admit – he was sort of proud of himself for sliding into the fatherly role pretty easily.

But something was wrong.

Dick was allowed back as a Teen Titan – as leader, in fact; but he told his friends to give him a few days. And thus, he never left; not once to go out with his friends. After months of not seeing them at all, Slade thought this was definitely odd behavior, but when Slade had actually heard the boy decline an offer to go out for pizza… Well, it was then he knew the boy was completely off.

Something was terribly wrong and Slade couldn’t figure it out. As each of the recent three days progressed, the boy seemed to droop into a deeper depression. It was definitely beginning to become alarming to Slade and he just wasn’t sure what to do. Nothing he or Wintergreen did could get anything out of the boy. He just was a wisp, apathetically drifting here and there. Slade had never seen the boy act like this and the worry was beginning to eat at his insides.

That was new – the worry; that annoying emotion that seemed to come with the occupation.

The three of them were eating a late lunch and Slade was watching the boy carefully as he picked at his food. This wasn’t the first time Dick wouldn’t really eat properly; the past day only getting worse. There was also a terrible gloom hanging over Dick. It was completely unsettling, not to mention worrying; and Slade hated worrying like this – also brought indigestion, interestingly enough. It was a waste of time and he certainly didn’t have time to waste in worry.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He actually had all the time in the world, especially now that he stopped being Deathstroke. He had placed all his contacts into lockdown. To those who knew Deathstroke and knew how to get into contact with him, it would be as if Slade had disappeared from off the face of the planet. No one would know what happened to him.

There were times that Slade found himself at a loss, unsure what to fully do with his time. The choice of abandoning his assassin ego was, at times, throwing things out of whack in Slade’s mind. He almost felt paralyzed; teetering on the edge of being Deathstroke the assassin, mercenary; and being Slade Wilson, stay at home father. Things he would’ve done as Deathstroke with his Apprentice were sometimes different than what he would’ve done as Slade Wilson with his son.

Thus, his paralyzing feeling of truly knowing what to do. After so many years of his father side being dormant, it was difficult to fully remember what he should do.

But at other times, it almost felt freeing, actually. Slade was enjoying the self proclaimed vacation more than he thought he would. But with Dick acting so strangely, Slade wasn’t enjoying it as much as he would.

“Richard, finish your lunch,” chided Wintergreen, pointing to Dick’s mostly unfinished meal. Dick shrugged lightly.

“I’m not really hungry,” said Dick, his voice soft and tired. Wintergreen glanced over at Slade, giving him a pointed look. It was obvious that the old man was getting worried about the boy’s eating habits. Dick had barely eaten anything and that just wasn’t good for his health.

“Dick, you’re to sit there until Will says you’ve eaten enough,” said Slade, pointing to his food with a fork. He hoped the boy would take that as a good warning to eat.

But he didn’t.

“I’m not hungry, sir,” said Dick, looking up at him. His crystal blue eyes were glazed over – almost in misery.

“Eat anyway,” said Slade, yet in a soft tone. There was a forlorn sigh that escaped from Dick and he pushed away his plate; leaning his folded arms onto the table.

“I can’t,” whispered Dick, hiding his face into his arms. His voice was muffled as he continued, “I’ll just sit here, then.”

Slade watched him. A month ago, he’d demand total obedience from the boy, even threaten his obstinacy with a reprimanding swat. But Slade was unsure how to proceed with this right now. He just couldn’t be sure if the boy wasn’t feeling well or if he was just being difficult – Slade believed the former more, however.

“Dick, look up,” instructed Slade. The boy rubbed his face back and forth a few times before he obeyed him. The moment the boy’s forehead surfaced, Slade’s hand was on it. Dick’s eyes widened briefly for a moment. Then, they closed; a soft sigh escaping from his entire body. After another moment, Slade withdrew his hand.

Well, the boy wasn’t overly warm. So, he wasn’t sick. Then, what on earth was going on with the boy? Was he testing his limits again with this show of uncooperativeness? But somehow, Slade knew that wasn’t the case. Dick had been so eager to please recently, not to mention pretty clingy.

Still, Slade had to set the boundaries.

“Dick, you know how I feel about you disobeying me,” said Slade, keeping his tone soft and gentle, yet authoritative. “I’d rather not have to express my feelings further on the matter.”

“I just can’t eat, sir,” whispered Dick; his face hidden again and his voice muffled. “Please don’t make me.”

Slade sent Wintergreen a confused look, who in turn sent him a very worried one.

Frustration shot through Slade’s chest. He just didn’t like this nonsense at all. What on earth was going on with this boy? Since when did he mope around like this? Where had that happy boy gone? Was his mind thinking up some convoluted scenario like he had with the knowledge of Rose? But hadn’t Slade made it very clear how he felt by now?

Well, whatever it was, Slade wasn’t going to tolerate this behavior any more. He was done with it. He wanted his bright eyed boy back and he wanted him back now. He tried being nice. It wasn’t working. Time to add a little sharpness to the effect.

“Get up and stand in front of me,” instructed Slade with a sharp tone, setting his fork down with a hard clink to his plate. Wintergreen gave him a hard look as if to say, “Go easy on him.”

Dick lifted his head slowly. He gave out a dejected and resigned sigh. Slade got the distinct impression that the boy expected some sort of reprimand, but wasn’t going to fight against it.

What on earth was going on here?!

Dick slowly got to his feet and stood in front of him. Slade gently took the boy by the arms and pulled him closer so that he had to lean down slightly; their legs touching. Slade looked directly into the boy’s bright, yet dimmed eyes.

“I want you to tell me what’s going on,” said Slade, keeping his voice soft. “And I want to know right now.”

Those crystal blue eyes blinked once; a tongue laced over dry lips.

“March twenty-first is in two days,” whispered Dick in a terribly soft voice. His eyes began to glisten brightly. A wave of light flash over his eyes as the edges began to fill with tears that wouldn’t fall yet.

March twenty-first? What was significance of that? What was so important about that date that would cause this complete gloom?

Slade’s confusion must’ve shown up on his face. Dick’s lips trembled and then the tears overflowed; his cheeks becoming flooded with the droplets. Dick tried to open his mouth to say something, but his lips only trembled more. His teeth appeared, biting his lower lip in the attempt to stop the trembling; but his teeth began to tremble as well.

Then, realization began to dawn on Slade. The twenty-first of March… Wasn’t that the date of the death of his parents? Not only that, it was also the boy’s birthday.

Oh, blast it.

“I’m sorry!” cried Dick suddenly, tearing out of Slade’s grasp and bolting out of the room.

“Dick!” yelled Slade after him. But the boy was out of sight. There was a soft slam of a door that echoed through the hallway.

Slade sat there, unable to figure out what to do next. Should he go after the boy? Or should he give him some space? Slade wasn’t sure what to do any more. Ever since he told the boy that he was no longer going to be Deathstroke, Slade found himself deep in thought about what to do with his spare time. Yes, he had decided to raise the boy, but obviously normal parents still went out and earned a living while their children went to school.

But Slade and Dick were far from normal and Slade had no need to earn a living – he was insanely well off. But Slade just didn’t know what to expect any more. The status had changed between them now. Was he treading too carefully with the boy? Perhaps he had pushed the boy too far right now – Dick had apologized and dashed off. Slade put a hand over his face and began to rub; thoroughly confused and tired by everything.

Why did he feel so strange?

“Slade, why aren’t you going after that child?” demanded Wintergreen, sounding extremely severe. Slade looked up from his hand.

“I’m not sure if I should go after him,” said Slade.

“Nonsense,” snapped Wintergreen. “He needs you. I don’t understand why you’re not just going right now. You always did before. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a long, tired sigh from Slade.

“The change,” murmured Slade. “Ever since I made that decision, I’m just not sure how to proceed any more.”

Now there was an exasperated sigh from Wintergreen as he shook his head.

“What change? There hasn’t been some major change recently.”

“Yes, there was—”

“All you did was stop being Deathstroke. That really has nothing to do with you, Slade,” said Wintergreen, interrupting him.

“Of course, it has something to do with me,” snapped Slade, his tone light, though. “It has everything to do with me.”

“It isn’t your complete identity,” retorted Wintergreen. “You’ve been doing the right thing all this time. Before, wouldn’t have you gone after Richard to make sure he was all right? Then, you should do just that now.”

“I suppose I should,” said Slade with a nod. “But I still think that there’s been a big change recently and I feel a bit unsettled by it.”

“Slade, you can’t honestly be telling me that retirement is completely throwing you off your game,” said Wintergreen with a wry eyebrow lift. “Who cares about Deathstroke, for crying out loud! Do you truly think that single choice was the thing that has made you change?”

“I…”

I gave up being Deathstroke. I did that for the protection and safety of that boy. I don’t want anything to happen to him. Not like the others. But Deathstroke was a core part of who I’ve become. In some ways, I’m not sure how to proceed from here.

What changed?

“Oh, come on, Slade,” said Wintergreen, sounding completely exasperated now. “What are you looking for? Some big instant to announce the moment where everything changed? Good grief, I thought you were more intelligent than that.”

Slade shot the old man a glare.

“Watch it, old man,” snapped Slade. “Just because you’re Dr. Spock of Baby and Child Care doesn’t mean we all are.”

“It’s common sense, for crying out loud, Slade,” said Wintergreen, sighing in his complete tired exasperation. “What are you expecting? A strike of lightning? You can’t honestly be telling me that you think growth and change happen overnight.”

Slade remained silent, his expression softening as he listened to the old man.

“You certainly don’t expect that from Richard,” continued Wintergreen. “Why are you expecting that from yourself? Are you the same person as you were yesterday? I don’t doubt it. Are you the same person as you were a week ago? Not quite. Are you the same person as you were a month ago or even further back? Most certainly not.”

The words settled into Slade’s heart as he continued to listen. Was that true? He wasn’t the same person he’d been a few months ago?

“You’ve been gradually changing, Slade,” said Wintergreen, his tone softening. “I’ve watched you. It’s been subtle, but it’s been there. You’ve grown and changed like any other person. You can no longer excuse yourself from change. It’s possible with you. You might not be able to push yourself physically like you used to, but you can certainly push yourself as a person; your character. And I’ll tell you, Slade; I very much enjoy the growth you’ve shown. I think you’re a better person because of it.”

There was a moment where Slade couldn’t answer; too overcome by the words of his friend. It was startling that the old man felt that way. Wintergreen felt that he was a better person because of the change that he has gone through? Was that even possible? Was it really possible for Slade to grow into a better person? Seven months ago, Slade would’ve laughed at such a thought. He would’ve thought that he was completely set in his ways – can’t teach an old dog new tricks, after all.

But it seemed as if that wasn’t the case.

Slade had very much learned and grown just as much as Dick had, if not more, during these months. He had learned to become softer; had learned to become more patient; had learned to become a father once more.

What was it about Dick that had unlocked such abilities? Slade had always felt something special about the boy when he watched him beside Batman and then the Teen Titans, but Slade had always thought it was his fighting abilities that had drawn him to the boy. Was there something more there? Was there some special spirit about the boy’s soul that had truly drawn Slade to him?

Probably. It seemed like a perfect match – a perfect father and son match.

“Well, are you just going to sit there like a lump or are you going to see if your son is doing okay?”

Slade let a smile cross his lips.

ooOOOOOoo

March 19th, 2009. Thursday, 1:25 pm.

The shuddering breathing that Dick was currently experiencing just wouldn’t calm down. No matter how many gasping gulps, half mixed with his sobs, he took, no matter how many tears he roughly wiped away with the palms of his hands, he just couldn’t stop. There was just something so heavy about this time of year for him. He had no time to celebrate the date of his birth; he was too busy mourning the date of their deaths – that terrible day that marked both the moment he entered the world and the moment when his parents left it.

But there was a worse part to all this.

Dick was feeling completely guilty for even feeling this way. He shouldn’t be feeling this way any more. Wasn’t Slade filling the void that had been left by his parents? Dick had to be ungrateful for feeling this way. There was no way he could tell Slade that he still missed his parents. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings or make him feel that Dick didn’t appreciate him – he did; oh, so very much. It was just that even after all these years, the pain of the past was still fresh in his memories and Dick knew that he’d always miss them no matter what.

Plus, Dick had an annual ritual that he did. Every year on his birthday, right at midnight, he’d visit their grave in Gotham. He hadn’t missed a year, even after the fight with Bruce. He still had gone without meeting up with him. But Dick felt strange asking Slade if he could go.

While, normally, Dick was used to being independent, the past seven months he had learned, or in some ways been trained, to become dependent upon Slade. Everything was now intertwined with the man, but in a good way; like a parent would be intertwined with the lives of their children. It was normal for a fourteen year old to be dependent upon an adult. It was completely abnormal for Dick to continue to live the way he had been for the past two years or so.

He was still getting used to it at times, but it felt nice. After so many years of learning to never depend on adults, learning to trust and lean on Slade for support taught Dick that he had missed so much in that regard over the past years. He couldn’t believe how much he had missed and he never truly realized how much he craved its return. Usually, he had squashed such feelings down inside his chest.

After all, they just hadn’t been available to him. Why crave the impossible?

Thus, Dick was so thankful beyond anything for Slade. Even more so now that the man had given up his old lifestyle for him. He was so grateful that the man cared and loved him that much. It was certainly unimaginable. Yeah, the man hadn’t outright said that he loved him, but Dick could feel it. Love wasn’t always expressed with words, but with actions. Slade was obviously a man of action most of the time – that much was apparent in all his dealings with Dick. Sure it’d be nice to hear those words someday, but just as Dick was adjusting to all this, so was Slade; and Dick knew to give the man time.

It wasn’t like Dick had actually said he loved him to the man’s face either…

A soft knock at his door startled Dick. He quickly sniffled, feeling slightly embarrassed by all the waterworks he was going through at the moment. He had managed to bury it for the past three days, even though the depression had risen; but all these tears right now just wouldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried.

The door opened. Dick made sure his head was buried inside his curled knees; his arms tightening around his legs. A moment later, he felt the bed sag as a weight sat down on it next to him. Dick’s breathing quickened for a moment; frozen in his throat. He wondered what Slade was going to say. Surely he’d demand an explanation for all this. Dick had run off without finishing his dinner, too; even after Slade told him that he wasn’t to leave before eating more.

Was Slade disappointed in him?

A strong arm curled around his upper back and shoulders. A gentle hand lifted Dick’s head and wrapped around his cheek; forcing him to rest it against a firm chest – one that was scented strongly of that familiar musky, rustic cologne.

It was another one of those half hugs.

It unraveled Dick.

The sobs intensified as he turned to Slade; throwing his arms around the man’s neck and burying his face into the nape. Strong arms tightly wrapped around him, almost protectively. He felt movement beneath him from the man; weight being adjusted, so that Dick felt himself moved to the man’s lap, his legs curled slightly to the side. The man’s long legs were outstretched across the length of the bed. A hand carded gently through his ungelled hair, while the other stroked his back – so softly, so kindly, so perfectly.

Time passed for Dick. He wasn’t sure how long he was there being held by the man. It was so warm, so soft, so firm, so everything beyond imagination. Slade truly was becoming softer, more fatherly to him.

And that was the best thing in the world.

Those arms reminded him that he could rely on Slade for whatever he needed. It was allowed; he was allowed to be a child; allowed to need the comfort that could only come from a caring, loving adult.

Soon, the warmth began to make the tears fade away; it always did. The comforting touch always would save him and this was a flood of softness. There was no resisting this. Dick let himself be comforted. His breathing calmed slowly, the shuddering ceasing. He was safe in these arms; these powerfully strong, loving arms.

“Dick,” whispered Slade in a gentle voice; his hand lacing through a few strands of Dick’s hair. “Can you talk now?”

Maybe…

He wanted to speak, but his voice was locked. He also didn’t want to let go. If he talked, he’d have to let go and there wasn’t anything in this world that he wanted more than to stay in these comforting arms. He didn’t care that he was sitting in this man’s lap like a little child. It didn’t matter. He had eight years to catch up and he was going to enjoy every moment of it. He wasn’t weak for needing this; he wasn’t a baby for needing this; and he wasn’t embarrassed for needing this, either.

Needing a father’s affection wasn’t weakness.

“Dick?”

Dick let out a soft shuddering sigh. He wriggled inside the man’s arms slightly. He had to talk to the man. He had to explain himself. It wasn’t fair to Slade. He had to explain all his feelings and hope that the man wouldn’t take it the wrong way. Slowly, he reluctantly began to pull back.

But the arms around his back tightened and forced him to stay down.

“Wait, you’re not required to move,” said Slade quickly, yet in gentleness. “You may stay if you need to do so.”

Dick’s breath sucked in once. Then, he smiled softly; loving the fact that Slade hadn’t pushed him away, but pulled him closer. He loosened his hold on the man’s neck and slid his arms to his sides.

“It’s okay,” whispered Dick, his breathing hitching once as he spoke. This time Slade allowed him to pull away. He stayed in the man’s lap, however; his head ducked down to avoid showing the man his tear stained face – the man probably wouldn’t be able to recognize him, it was so bad. There was more sniffling before Dick pretended to occupy himself with one of the buttons on the man’s white collar shirt, so he wouldn’t have to look up; his fingers playing with the white button.

A hand was placed around Dick’s lower back while another began to lace through his bangs. Then, the hand clasped Dick’s wet cheek and thumbed away his tears. After a few moments, the hand lifted away to wipe away his other tears with the backs of warm fingers.

Finally, the hand lifted to rest itself in Dick’s hair; fingers lacing through the back of his locks.

“Dick, are you going to talk?” asked Slade finally. “I think we know by now I most certainly can’t read your mind.”

Dick pursed his lips, the edges attempting to lift into a small smile.

“No, sir. You can’t,” whispered Dick, his voice hoarse.

“Then, I suppose we’ll have to use the old fashioned way and use our mouths,” said Slade, his voice beginning to drop into a drawl. “Good grief, whatever shall we do?”

A soft sound escaped Dick; a tiny giggle.

“Come on,” breathed Slade ever so gently and smoothly; perfectly coaxing. Dick’s voice loosened from that sound.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For crying,” whispered Dick, keeping his head down and feeling his face begin to burn. There was a clicking sound of the tongue and a pat on his lower back.

“Dick—blast it—don’t apologize for something like that,” said Slade, shaking his head and exhaling softly in exasperation. “It’s your parents, correct? It’s completely understandable that you’d feel sorrow and mourn over the anniversary of their deaths.”

“But… But I don’t want…” Dick trailed off, his head ducking lower. The hand from his hair curled beneath his chin and slowly lifted it upward. Dick really didn’t want to look up into the man’s face, but soon he didn’t have any choice. A steel grey blue eye bore deeply into his soul.

“Don’t want what?” prodded Slade. Dick blinked a few times, taking a deep breath.

“I appreciate you,” whispered Dick. “You’ve been amazing. I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful to you; I am. I shouldn’t feel so awful when I have you now, but I can’t let them go completely. It still hurts. I still miss them.”

Slade stared at Dick, his eye slowly widening as his eyebrow began to lift; his expression spreading into pure incredulity. His hand dropped to pull Dick’s lower body closer, forcing him a little closer to the man’s face. Soon, the expression softened; a pained look filling his features.

“You are too sensitive.”

“But—”

“Shh, listen to me,” said Slade, quickly overriding him, yet his tone was full of gentleness. “You have it completely wrong. It is I who should be grateful. Your heart… changed mine. You’re still a boy; a child growing into a man. Someone should always be there for a child. As an adult, I have no excuses.”

Dick’s eyes widened; his mouth slowly dropping.

“Another thing I want you to know is that you should never feel guilty for missing those who have passed,” continued Slade, the light in his eye softening. “Just because I have you doesn’t mean I don’t still miss Grant or mourn the tragedy of my past and my choices. Having you doesn’t replace him nor does you having me replace your parents.”

Oh, those tears; those freaking tears again. They were coming yet again and spilling over Dick’s cheeks at those words. His lips trembled.

“Do you understand me?” breathed Slade, his expression completely soft, almost tender.

Dick nodded, blinking once to send a wave of tears down his cheeks. Relief and thankfulness flowed over him. He took a deep breath. The future held such promise. He was going to be able to live his life with a father and still with the desires of his heart.

Dick knew without a doubt; he was blessed.

He lifted a hand to his face, trying to wipe away all the tears that were falling down his face. But somehow his eyes had other ideas. They just wouldn’t stop. With a sigh of resignation, Dick rested his head against Slade’s chest, his cheek against the man’s firm flesh. He continued to struggle against the tears, feeling thankful that he had this now. He didn’t have to cry alone any more. He didn’t have to hold the tears back any more, didn’t have to let the lump build up in his throat. He didn’t have to hide in his room and endure by himself.

He could accept those strong arms around him. He could accept this firm chest that he was leaning against. He could absorb the strength offered him.

He wasn’t alone any more.

“Slade… can I tell you something?” asked Dick after a few minutes. He sniffled once and tried again to wipe away the tears. He lifted up slightly from the support he leaned against. He bit his lower lip and whispered, “And can I stay here… in your lap while we talk?”

“Of course, you can,” said Slade swiftly. “You never have to ask for such things.”

That voice was ever so smooth in its softness. Arms tightened around his lower back, patting him reassuringly once with a hand.

“Promise you won’t get mad?” asked Dick, his head slightly lowered as he looked up at the man through wet black eyelashes. There was a wry lift of the man’s eyebrow as he tilted his head.

“Oh? Have you done something that I’d be unpleased with?” asked Slade, thoroughly smirking through it. There was a firm pat on Dick’s hip, almost in playful warning. Dick bit his lower lip and shook his head.

“No, it’s not something I’ve done. It’s just… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it all week and it just never seemed like the right time.”

“Like the Titans exploding into my home,” quipped Slade dryly. Dick blushed deeply.

“You’re not mad about that, right?”

“If I was mad about that, you’d have known far sooner than now, boy,” drawled Slade, softly patting him once again. “You ran away from them. That was completely unimaginable and I’d have never believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself.”

I…

I was afraid they’d hate me. You were the only one who could anchor me back to the truth. You were the only one who could, who would, who did tell me that everything was going to be all right.

Thank you.

“Something happened before I came across them, though,” whispered Dick.

“Oh?”

“I met Rose,” said Dick in the softest whisper.

Slade’s entire body stiffened beneath Dick. A moment later, a hand glanced against Dick’s chin and lifted his head to look up at Slade. The man’s single eye was wide in shock.

“What?”

“I met Rose. And I met Joey, too,” said Dick, blinking once; his wet black eyelashes brushing against his skin.

“You met…”

Dick nodded.

“Why didn’t you mention it sooner?” demanded Slade, his expression darkening. Dick bit his lower lip again and allowed a penitent pout grace his features. There was a responding twitch from Slade’s eyebrow before the man let out a long sigh; Dick could feel its effects and tremors all through his body.

“Well… We sort of fought…”

“What?!”

Slade’s angry shout shook Dick; making him flinch and coil away from the man. A stern light entered Slade’s eye as he gave Dick a very firm look.

“Explain. Fully.”

“I’m trying to…” muttered Dick, feeling nervous. He swallowed once. “Well, I saw Rose first. She ended up… attacking me in a fight—”

“She attacked you?”

Those arms tightened around him again. Dick kept his smile to himself. He loosened up slightly, snuggling a little deeper in those protective arms.

“You don’t have to worry,” continued Dick, gaining strength in his voice. “There was something off about her. She was angry about everything and afraid to become close to others.”

Dick stopped for a moment and frowned, remembering the odd phenomenon of both Slade’s and Rose’s eyes.

“Slade, what happens when you die?”

There was a raised eyebrow.

“That’s like asking me where babies come from,” drawled Slade. “Get back to the topic at hand.”

“No, I’m serious,” said Dick, twisting in Slade’s lap slightly to face him better. “I’m talking about when you die, not death in general. When you died and woke up, your eye briefly was a violet red, before it returned to normal. Rose’s eyes were like that the whole time, until I stopped her and saved her.”

What had made her eyes return to the light?

“And just how did you save her, exactly?” asked Slade, a wry eyebrow lifted as he studied Dick.

“I hugged her.”

Slade’s mouth lowered slightly, his eye slowly widening. Then, there was a short single chuckle, before it flowed into more; the tremors of the man’s soft laughter echoing through Dick’s body. Those arms lifted up towards Dick’s middle back and curled around him; pulling him close into the man’s chest. Dick closed his eyes and rested there, smiling lightly.

“Only you could manage that,” murmured Slade, resting his chin on top of Dick’s head. There was a long moment where Slade didn’t say anything more, merely gently holding Dick in a strong, yet soft hug. Dick didn’t complain at all, simply enjoying it fully and completely with his entire soul. After a few more moments, Slade’s smooth voice spoke, sending deep ripples through Dick’s ear that was pressed against the man’s chest.

“I don’t know how to explain what happens,” said Slade, his voice soft. “It feels as if there’s a part of my soul left behind, I suppose you could say. The part that makes me want to continue living. I always have to bring it back. It never comes back on its own; I must compel it. I must have something connecting my heart to this world and want to continue the connection.”

So, somehow I managed to get Rose to bring back the part of her soul that made her human. Perhaps I was able to connect with her.

Thank goodness.

I wonder…

Did Slade return for me?

“Rose is like you,” whispered Dick. “She’s immortal. That’s why she survived.”

“I figured as much,” sighed Slade, his chest sending tremors into Dick’s body through his exhale. The man sounded tired over it.

“I wonder if Joey is, too.”

“He sure better not try to find out!” snapped Slade, his anger shaking Dick. There was a giggle from Dick, which helped Slade calm down; the man’s tense body loosening up. Slade’s arm slid down Dick’s back and patted him lightly.

“It’s kind of nice.”

“What is?”

“I have an older brother and an older sister,” said Dick, smiling. He remembered the smile on Joey’s face when Dick asked if they’ll visit. He was going to really like the fact of being a little brother for sure.

If this continued – these warm, strong arms; that affectionate ruffle of his hair – Dick was going to dangerously feel a bit spoiled by it all and of course, relish every minute of it.

“That is true,” said Slade, his voice sounding a bit reserved. “But I’m not sure how much—”

“They agreed to visit us after I asked them to.”

Slade’s body stilled. Dick could’ve sworn the man stopped breathing briefly. There was a hitch of breath, then. There were a few trembles that began to pour through the man’s entire body, reverberating through Dick. He lifted slightly to look up at the man, becoming a bit nervous by his reaction. Slade was in pure shock. His eye was wide, never blinking. His mouth was slowly dropping as he stared into nothing. Dick lifted a little more and grabbed the man by the cheeks with his hands.

“Slade?”

There was no response. Dick squished those cheeks with his hands; giggling softly as he remembered sometimes doing this to his first father when he’d been a little child. Yet again, there was no response.

“Slade!” cried Dick, squishing the man’s cheeks again. That grey blue eye blinked once, the light filling it again. That unbending eye focused on Dick finally and the expression softened. The man’s arms lifted and his hands clasped Dick around his neck, engulfing it with those large hands, and tenderly squeezed him there; bringing warmth to settle all throughout Dick’s entire being.

“What are you?” asked Slade finally, gentle awe spreading through his tone. Unvoiced questions from the man seemed to enter Dick’s mind.

‘What power do you possess? How could you do something that I never could manage? Just what exactly are you?’

‘Just how special are you?’

Dick smiled at the questions of the man’s heart that he couldn’t seem to voice. Dick dropped his hands, tilted his head to the side, lifted his shoulders slightly, and gave Slade his brightest smile yet.

“I’m your son.”

There was a hard swallow; the man’s prominent Adam’s apple bobbing once. The hands slipped away from Dick’s neck and powerfully wrapped around his upper back; pulling him straight back into the man’s chest. The hug was tighter than any of the previous hugs Dick had ever experienced before with the man. It was almost as if Slade was afraid that Dick would suddenly disappear.

But Dick wasn’t going anywhere.

A few tears slipped down his cheeks once again, unbidden, as he closed his eyes and snuggled in the strongest, tightest hug he’d experienced in years – perhaps even in his entire life.

How many years had passed since that fateful day? That day where his world had been ripped apart; shredded into so many pieces that it seemed as if it’d never be repaired. How long had he endured the pain and loneliness? How long had he depended on his own knowledge, his own strength, his own comfort? How long had he wondered if he was doing the right thing? How long had he questioned himself?

How long had he longed for the arms of his mother and father to hold him?

Dick couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if these unimaginable turn of events had happened just a little sooner. How many times could’ve he turned to these arms? How many times could’ve he found comfort within this chest that held him close? How many times could’ve he been reminded that he was still a kid who needed the love and guidance of an adult?

How many times could’ve he heard the words, “I love you.”?

No matter how many years had been lost, what truly mattered was the future – and he was going to do all he could to make up for the lost time. A small chuckle rose up inside Dick’s heart. He probably was going to drive this man nuts.

After all this, Dick still wanted to visit his parents’ grave, but he couldn’t voice his request. He wasn’t sure if he could anyway. He knew Slade would do anything for him now, no doubt. But somehow, he just didn’t feel like asking at that moment.

But Dick forgot the breadth of Slade’s knowledge.

“Hey, Dick,” whispered Slade softly, his arms loosening slightly around him. Dick lifted to look up at the owner of that soothing, smooth voice. Slade leaned his face closer to him. Dick held his breath, surprised by this sudden closeness; but delighted about it. Their foreheads touched and Dick ended up staring straight into Slade’s visible and very close eye; letting the warmth flow through him, bringing him special comfort. He blinked a couple of times, a few stray tears slipping down; wondering why Slade was being so unusually soft today, and yet loving every moment of it.

“How about we go on a little trip?”

ooOOOOOoo

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