Forgotten Bonds – Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen
Weakness Made Strong

October 31st, 2008. Friday, 8:00 am.

Dick lived in constant fear now. It wasn’t one of pain or getting hit across the face. No, it was one of being forced to learn how to use a gun – or anything to do with the horrible things.

Luckily, Slade hadn’t mentioned guns all week since the previous attempt at it.

But Dick did not want to learn how to use one. He didn’t even want to touch the freaking things. He didn’t want to remember. He couldn’t remember – he refused to. But the moment he got near those unfeeling metal objects, his entire body began to panic. Every part of his entire being rejected the things.

If only he had his mask. Robin could face it as if it were an enemy: take it down with no mercy. But without the mask, his blue eyes saw the object in its unfiltered, tainted purity. It frightened him to no end.

Dick noticed something different with Slade as well. While he was still the task master, there was something unusual about him. The routine had been lessened up a bit. Dick found himself with an extra hour of free time every day. He also noticed that Slade was more cordial with him – almost to the point of being pleasant, even.

But Dick still didn’t trust him. It didn’t matter how much effort Slade put into trying to be nicer or whatever – the man just wasn’t trustworthy. He had actually apologized for beating Dick, too. Yet, there was no way he could believe that had been sincere. But as a week passed by, Dick noticed that Slade really was changing his way in dealing with him.

The man held his temper quite a bit. Dick had tried to see how far the man could go, trying to test his limits. He really didn’t think the man would hold back if he snapped. If he did, then Dick would just prove he was a liar. But when Dick did push the man’s limits, he was never struck across the face or punched.

No, he only received that embarrassing clout across the backside.

He had pushed the man to that point a few times this week. It completely confused Dick. He didn’t do anything to outright disobey the man, though; knowing full well what that led to. The mere knowledge that the man had not once but twice taken him over his knees was enough to put Dick into pure mortification. So, he didn’t have another awkward episode since last week. He did not need to experience the man’s new preferred way of discipline again.

But he knew it was only a matter of time. The man would try again and Dick would refuse, only to get yet another one of those. But at that point, it didn’t matter. Dick would never touch those things. Even if he had endure torture, he just would not touch a gun.

But life was cruel – totally and completely cruel to Dick.

And it was about to get even crueler.

Dick was following Slade down the stairs into the basement after breakfast that morning. Slade had told him they were changing up the schedule today. Whenever Slade did that, it always made Dick feel uneasy. Slade’s rigid schedule was the only consistency that the man had for him; and Dick depended heavily on it.

Dick was led into a large room in the basement he hadn’t been in before. His heart stilled as he entered. Wall to wall, there were numerous different types of guns hanging up. At one end of the room, there were many racks of long rifles. There were rows and shelves of countless types of weaponry, ranging from knives, swords, foreign blades, bō-staffs, and more. In front, there was a target range as well.

Dick had the sudden urge to throw up.

He backed up against the closed door in fear. There were too many – far too many guns. He seriously needed them to go away. He whirled around in a panic and frantically tried to flee the room as fast as possible.

The door was locked.

Dick whirled back around to face the man that held him trapped in this terrible confining, constricting room. Slade was looking at him with a calculating grey blue eye. He was studying him very carefully.

“Slade, let me out of here,” whispered Dick anxiously in a small plea. He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but he wasn’t sure how well he was doing.

“Today, you will learn how to fire a gun at a target,” said Slade, his tone in his instructor voice; but he was still studying Dick carefully. Dick jerked his head quickly in a nervous shake.

“No.”

“Dick, you will.”

“Just let me out!” cried Dick, turning back around and trying the door handle again in vain.

“Dick—”

“No!”

“This is getting ridiculous,” said Slade; his tone beginning to sound annoyed. Dick felt a hand grab beneath his arm and begin to pull him away from the only exit. Dick ripped out of Slade’s grasp with unknown strength; his adrenaline pouring through him from his terror.

No, no, no, no… This was going to bring back that memory. He didn’t want to remember that memory. He wasn’t ready to deal with it right now. He needed to get out of this room. He needed to escape.

“Dick, stop this,” scolded Slade. Dick stilled; overriding his pure terror with pure anger. This man was not going to make him relive this. Dick was not going to relive that memory.

“Let me out,” said Dick; his teeth grinding slowly as the fear began to be replaced with his fury.

“No,” said Slade.

“Let me out!” screamed Dick uncontrollably. He was grabbed and manually turned to the side to be rewarded with a hard clout across his seat. It shocked him into temporary calmness. Then, his shoulders were firmly held by the man’s hands and he was forced to face Slade once more.

“Dick, I have no idea what’s gotten into you, but you have to control yourself,” said Slade. Fury pumped through Dick’s veins, fueling his energy.

“No!” shouted Dick at the top of his lungs.

“This disobedience isn’t tolerated, Dick. You know that,” said Slade, his tone turning stern.

“You can wa–wallop me all you want. Go ahead! But I won’t—I won’t touch those things,” cried Dick; furiously slicing a hand through the air in his fury. Slade frowned, his white eyebrows furrowing deeply. He looked puzzled.

“You can do it all day!” continued Dick – anything to convince the man. He’d withstand any torture. He would withstand anything to avoid those things. He just wasn’t ready to deal with them. “Not even breaking my arm will make me touch them!”

Slade’s eye took on a dark glint. A shiver went down Dick’s back in spite of himself. He must’ve pushed Slade over the edge. This was it. The man was going to go back on his word now – just to prove Dick wrong. But it didn’t matter. Dick didn’t need to trust Slade or anyone. Nothing mattered, so long as he didn’t have to shoot a gun. He couldn’t bear to hear that sound right now. Dick Grayson wasn’t strong enough.

Not without Robin.

“Let’s prove that theory, then,” said Slade; reaching for his arm. Dick didn’t even bother to resist. He didn’t care. He couldn’t let himself care. He scrunched his eyes shut tightly; waiting for the inevitable pain that would shoot through his body.

He waited; feeling Slade’s warm hand against his skin.

Then, something cool was pressed into his hand. He almost dropped it in shock. He could feel the cold metal of the object. His breath caught in his chest as he realized what it was.

“I swore I wouldn’t any more,” said Slade in a soft voice. “And I keep my word. Besides, if you say breaking your arm won’t make you submit, then I see no reason to try.”

Oh, why did Slade have to go soft now? The man had to be going soft – that was it. Who replaced Slade with this–this radioactive zombie, as Beast Boy would say. The man was going to keep his word? He wouldn’t beat him any more? Why not?! Did the man really think that Dick would melt under kindness? Of course, he wouldn’t!

The hand firmly wrapped Dick’s fingers around the cold metal. He refused to open his eyes. He focused all his thoughts on the hand on his wrist and not the one that was forcing him to hold that cold, cold metal demon.

It was such a contrast: the warmth from the hand and the icy cold from the metal.

Dick’s breathing quickened as his heart began to palpitate. His eyes began to burn. No! He couldn’t cry now. Slade would be even more angry; crying over a gun. He needed this to stop. He couldn’t keep holding onto this cold icy thing in his hand any more.

But that warm hand wouldn’t let go.

“Please…” begged Dick in a low whisper; unable to stop the stray tear that broke through his defenses. “Please, stop this.”

“I’m not going to stop, Dick. I want you to learn.”

“Anything but this…”

“I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal over this,” said Slade; sounding greatly confused. “I can’t understand Batman’s motives for making you so fearful over a metal object.”

“He didn’t!” protested Dick; his eyes snapping open. Slade raised an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t defend him,” said Slade with a frown. “Making a child so fearful over an object is absolutely ridiculous. He should’ve instilled a reverence, perhaps; but not this ridiculous fear.”

“H–he didn’t!”

Slade didn’t answer this time, but he began to gently pull Dick towards the target range.

No, no, no, no, no!

The man was going to force him to hear that sound—oh, that awful sound! No. No! No! Dick wasn’t going to hear it; he wasn’t going to pull the trigger. Slade couldn’t make him. The man couldn’t do anything to force Dick to do this.

New adrenaline poured through Dick’s blood. With a cry, he wrenched himself free of Slade’s grasp; dropping the gun onto the floor. He bolted. He fled towards the door again; slamming into it desperately. He grabbed at the handle and tried to pull with all his power. He was going to break down the door – he had to. He needed to get out of here before that sound blasted through his ears; reawakening his every fear, his terrible memory.

Please… no…

A powerful arm wrapped around his waist; another one slid over his forehead with a hand resting against his skin. Dick suddenly felt himself being pushed against the man’s body. He thrashed wildly; trying to break free of the hold.

“Calm down.”

“Let me go!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“Dick, calm down now!” shouted Slade; the vibrations of his voice sliding through Dick as well. Dick’s breathing quickened as his chest lifted up and down frantically. Now he was ready to cry. The tears began to slip down his cheeks. His chest collapsed into a great sob. He leaned his head back to rest on the man’s chest; the tears streaming down his face as he sobbed out loud.

“Please… Anything but this,” cried Dick softly through his sobs. He didn’t care how weak he appeared right now. He knew he was weak – with this anyway. He could admit it. But he just couldn’t bear remembering right now.

Anything – he’d even remember his parents’ deaths instead; that he could handle now.

The hand on his forehead began to rub against his skin; the fingers sliding up and lifting as they stroked him. It was slow and gentle.

This only made Dick sob even worse. The man was trying to get to him; trying to melt him with kindness. If anything, that was Dick’s greatest weakness. But he had to remain strong. He couldn’t be tricked into firing a gun.

The hand moved to his left shoulder and began to slide back and forth firmly; squeezing now and then. It was wrapped around Dick’s upper chest.

“Dick, you must calm down. You’re going into hysterics,” said Slade. Dick could feel the man’s smooth, low voice meld into his soul, stilling it.

No!

“You need to calm down. I won’t let you go until I’m sure you’re calm again.”

There was nothing Dick could do. The man’s voice was calming him down. The strong arm around his waist and the comforting arm that was wrapped in front of him with that hand on his shoulder were all too much for Dick’s brain to think straight. His breathing began to flow back into a slow rhythm. His heart rate slowly regulated.

The arm loosened its grip from around Dick’s waist. The steady warmth from the body that stood behind him disappeared. Dick was slowly turned around by a pair of hands. He didn’t look up at Slade – he didn’t want to see the expression on the man’s face. Besides, he was pretty sure his own face was a wreck from all his tears.

Slade remained quiet. He took Dick by the underarm and pulled him back towards the target range.

There was no hope. There was no fighting him. The man was going to force him no matter what. Dick felt as if he was being led to a firing squad. Actually, that didn’t sound so bad at that very moment.

Slade put the metal object into his hand again. Then, Slade came around behind him and enveloped Dick’s arms with his own. He forced his arms to lift up towards the target. Dick could feel the cool surface of the gun against his skin; contrasting the warmth he felt from the man.

But this time there was no comfort in the warmth.

“Look at the target and focus,” instructed Slade quietly. “Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be able to do it on your own. Once you try it, I’m sure you’ll find it wasn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

Slade’s in for a rude awakening, thought Dick dully.

Slade’s finger overlapped Dick’s. It took all of Dick’s strength to remain calm, but he knew what was going to happen. Once he heard the noise, he would lose it. The memories would come flooding back and Dick would be submerged and lost within the torrent.

That much he was sure of.

His fingers were forced down completely; the trigger fired. The sound blasted through the air; piercing Dick’s ears.

Dick was lost as his screams of terror filled the air. He wasn’t aware that he was hyperventilating. He wasn’t aware that Slade was trying to calm him down.

He was deep within a memory – a terrible, awful memory.

ooOOOOOoo

“But Bruce! I can help! Quick treating me like I can’t handle this stuff,” protested Dick hotly as he watched Bruce suit up. The man slipped the cowl over his face; two sharp blue eyes showing through the holes.

“No, Dick,” said Bruce. “I don’t want you on this mission. The Joker is on one of his more violent rampages. I don’t want you anywhere near that. It’s not safe and it will more than likely traumatize you.”

“But that’s not fair!” cried Dick; crossing his arms angrily. “You’re treating me like a little kid and I’m not. I can handle this kind of stuff.”

“You’re twelve years old,” snapped Bruce. “That is the age of a child whether you think it is or not. I am the adult and you are the child. You will obey me or you can forget about going on patrol for two weeks.”

“But—”

“Argue one more time over this and I’ll make it a month,” said Bruce; his blue eyes flashing sharply through his cowl.

Dick fought back a retort and tightened his folded arms in frustration. Bruce didn’t say anything more as he entered the Batmobile and the door automatically closed. Dick watched unhappily as the sleek car zoomed out of the Batcave.

It was so unfair! Bruce was getting worse than ever now. Ever since Robin had been captured and tortured by Two-Face, Bruce was holding him back more and more. Come on, it hadn’t been all that bad; Robin could handle it. He was strong, after all. And didn’t Bruce trust Dick at all? Dick was better, stronger then when he had been a little kid. Now he could handle anything and anyone – and on his own, too.

He just didn’t get Bruce at all!

But Bruce couldn’t keep him locked up like this – this was honestly ridiculous. Bruce couldn’t really think that Dick would sit back and not help. Well, Dick would just go out on patrol on his own. He could keep criminals in line without Batman’s help just fine. He was trained by him, after all. Why couldn’t Bruce have more confidence in Dick’s abilities?

With his heart pounding with his decision, he quickly slipped his suit on; observing his look in the mirror. He frowned for a minute. Hm, it was time for a costume update. This thing totally looked like he was running around in his underwear. Yup, time for a slight revamp – at least in the pants area.

But that would have to happen later. Tonight, he was going to prove to Bruce that he wasn’t just some kid that he can leave behind. He was Robin, the Boy Wonder; the hero who had a duty to protect the people of Gotham City from insane criminals – just like the Joker.

It was the one time Dick Grayson, Robin would admit that he should’ve listened to Bruce.

Thus, Robin went out into the night by himself. He kept his eyes open for any suspicious activity. As Robin easily swooped in the air, his acrobatic body completely in its element, he stopped as his eye caught hold of a terrible sight. He leapt down to the street ground and his stomach turned.

There were many people – all dead – strewn all throughout the street. The ground was soaked, drenched with blood. The air had a sickening smell and even held a damp, almost sticky sensation.

Robin turned to the wall; placing a hand on it for support as his stomach contracted violently, causing him to empty the contents of his stomach out onto the ground. The acid burned his throat and made his eyes water terribly. He wiped his lips with his arm; wishing he could rinse out the awful taste in his mouth.

Humans didn’t normally look like that. Robin was used to seeing death – he saw it all the time with Batman. It was just part of the job. But this… This was something all new to Robin.

This was insanity.

This was cruelty.

This was barbaric.

“Well, well, well. What have we here? A little birdie is all alone and away from the nest.”

Robin chilled, knowing that voice perfectly. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and whirled around. The Joker was stepping – almost skipping – through the carnage; thoroughly unaffected by the death that was surrounding him. He was swirling a small machine gun in one hand and a knife in another; the blade gleaming—dripping with blood.

“Joker! You’re not going to get away with this!” shouted Robin.

“No? Why not?” asked the Joker innocently, tilting his head to the side as if in deep questioning. Robin didn’t dignify that with a verbal answer. There was no reasoning with this man – he was completely nuts, off his rocker, bonkers, and insane. Even then, that didn’t begin to describe him.

Robin pulled out his bō-staff and faced the Joker carefully. Batman had warned him that he wasn’t allowed to face such powerful criminals, but it was obvious that he couldn’t escape this. His heart was pounding in his chest with fear. Robin was afraid of this psycho – no doubt about it. He was definitely terrified – especially after what he did to those poor people. There was no remorse for death. But Robin was brave. And he was strong enough to bring down this demon who was completely drenched within his deranged tendencies. Robin could do anything – he’d prove it to Batman. The man couldn’t hold him back in his shadow any more.

“Aho, the little birdie wants to play,” said the Joker with a wild grin. “Well, isn’t this my night for fun.”

He lifted the gun and shot with rapid fire towards him. Robin rolled out of the way; trying to stay out of range of the bullets. Then, he darted forward; swinging the bō-staff with terrible strength. The Joker languidly dodged out of the way. Robin twisted to the side and brought the staff upwards towards the Joker’s face. A clang rang through the air as the weapons made contact – the Joker blocking Robin’s staff with the large machine gun. The Joker’s eyes seemed to bug out with his pure excitement of the battle.

With a gleeful cry, the Joker pushed Robin with a tremendous amount of force. Robin fell backwards, rolling out of the throw. But he didn’t have time to react as the gun shot again and pain seared through his leg.

“Oh, dear; I got ya,” said the Joker, his grin spreading even wider. “Good, now you can’t dart around.”

Robin rolled to the side on the ground and groaned in pain. He sat back on his seat and curled the injured leg to his chest. The gun wound was terrible – pain beyond anything he could’ve imagined. Sharp, searing, blasting pain that was mocking him evilly as it shot through his entire leg. This was his first time feeling a bullet – Batman usually shielded him from such things. The wound was in his lower calf and he simply wanted to scream. That had to make it better. But instead, he gritted his teeth through the unrelenting pain; trying to bear through it stoically.

“Like the décor?” asked the Joker, waving his hand with the knife towards the carnage. Robin didn’t answer – unable to speak. He was all too aware of the fact that he was sitting in a pool of blood. The terrible stench was making his stomach turn again and it took all his willpower to keep from dry heaving. His eyes watered from the thick air and his restraints on his pain.

“But I’m bored again,” shrugged the Joker. “It’s a good thing you came along, little birdie. Now I have someone to play with.”

“You won’t have time!” cried Robin through gritted teeth. “Batman will come and—”

“Probably,” nodded the Joker in a considering way. But then, a bright glint entered his green eyes that seemed to light them up even within the night shadows. His terrible smile widened unnaturally. “But how much will there be left of the little birdie for him to rescue?”

A chill went down Robin’s back. He scuttled backwards; his face scrunching up in pain as the searing wound raged at him to hold still. But he couldn’t – the psycho was going to kill him; torture him until he died. This psycho would be far more terrible than Two-Face.

The Joker was exceptionally deranged tonight.

The quiet squelching sound of the Joker’s steps echoed through the street as he advanced on Robin. Something bumped into Robin’s back and he froze. His heart quickened terribly to the point of palpitating and falling in his chest as he realized what was behind him. His hand slipped over a cold, wet surface and he could feel his stomach scream at him to throw up again.

“Ah, careful with the décor. Don’t want to upset it,” commented the Joker lightly. Robin was frozen before the demon. He should’ve listened to Bruce. Of all the times he had to prove to the man he was strong, he had to get himself shot in the leg by a man who was completely unstable.

The Joker smiled; his eyes lighting up as he lifted the knife up to his face. He opened his deformed mouth, his tongue writhing out to lick the edge of the knife. Instantly, a chill went down Robin’s back, the hair on the back of his neck rising up; the absolute paralyzing fear shivering through his entire body.

“This should be fun.” The Joker frowned suddenly. “But it’s so quiet. You really are quite stoic to take a bullet silently. I wonder… How many more can you take before you sing for me?”

The gun lifted towards his arm and blasted once. The same searing pain tore through Robin’s right upper arm. He screamed this time; the sound of his voice tearing his throat.

“That’s better,” said the Joker happily; nearly bouncing on the balls on his feet. “Music to my ears tonight.”

Robin gasped in pain. Sweat poured off his body and his heart thumped rapidly against his chest. The pain was merciless and ravaging. His vision became blurry for a moment as his eyes flooded with his tears. He blinked, sending the tears downward to soak into the edges of his mask.

The Joker knelt down in front of him. Robin’s heart pounded furiously in complete terror. Those green, deranged eyes bore into him; the insanity almost tearing, ripping apart his soul. Robin couldn’t get away; he needed to get away.

But he was trapped.

The Joker dropped the knife and reached forward towards his right arm. Robin gasped with fright, wishing he could get away; that this crazed creature before him would go away. More tears filled his eyes. This was scary – far more terrifying than anything he could’ve imagined.

And no one was going to be able to save him.

The Joker’s fingers touched the wound. Robin bit back a another scream that wanted to rip through his throat. The man was touching him – this insane monster was actually touching him. He was so close—too close. Get away, get away, get away!

The Joker lifted his two fingers and slowly stroked Robin’s cheek; painting it with his own blood. Robin’s vision was blurred again as another wave of tears flooded there to fall from his eyes. He wanted to sob outright at that very moment. Shivers slid down his spine continually as he felt this crazed man’s fingers sliding along his cheek. He wanted to sick up again.

He was tainted now.

“Ooh, you’re still a stoic little birdie, aren’t you?” asked the Joker in a mocking tone. He stood up and pointed the gun at Robin.

“Let’s try another!” cried the Joker cheerfully. Robin couldn’t do anything as the gun aimed at his other arm, towards his shoulder. Further tears flooded through Robin’s eyes as the fear and terror began to devastate his heart.

Another blast and another searing pain ripped through Robin. He was sure he tore his throat with his screams. Now he was completely sobbing; the tears soaking past his mask to run down his cheeks in waves. His mind was becoming foggy through the unrelenting pain.

Why hadn’t he just listened to Bruce? And why wasn’t Bruce here to help him? Where was he? Didn’t he care about him? Or was it all really true… what all those papers said… all those news reporters…

That Richard Grayson was just a charity case to Bruce Wayne.

“Wow, bird boy, you’re really good creating music,” said the Joker. “You probably can only handle one more before you pass out, right? But that’s okay. I’ll send you home to Daddy Bats in a nice clean box. Haha, but I’m sure some assembly will be required.”

That awful, terrible laugh. Robin’s couldn’t think properly. All he could hear was that chilling, awful laugh. It’s terrible ringing tones drained all the strength from Robin’s soul. It melded with another blast and the same searing pain blossomed through his chest.

Robin was sure he was going to die now. Perhaps his mother would meet him on the other side. Had he been good enough to see her again? Probably not… She had been so good, so beautiful… Dick couldn’t compare. Her little robin was tainted now; tainted in the terrible color of blood red.

He wasn’t sure how long he was there; trapped in the unreal limbo of pain and reality. Time seemed to freeze for him. Before he fully blacked out, he remembered one thing. Strong arms drew him upward and the low voice of Bruce filled his ears.

“You’re not going to die, Robin. You’re going to be all right. Hang on.”

Somehow, though, Robin hadn’t believed him.

ooOOOOOoo

October 31st, 2008. Friday, 8:32 am.

Dick was trapped within his mind; the overpowering memory drowning his senses completely. He was lost – completely lost and unprotected against his mind. The awful laughter rang through his ears and the gunshots of his memory blasted over and over again. He could almost feel the pain once again, searing through his entire body.

Suddenly, Dick felt warmth surround him. Its strength was beyond anything he had ever felt before. He was completely enveloped in the strong, powerful warmth. Something was quietly whispering in his ears; the breath warming and tickling him.

Then, the whispers began to make sense.

“Dick, you’re safe. You’re safe now. Come back. Everything is fine. You’re all right. You are safe.”

Dick’s breathing shuddered once as he began to come back to his senses. Suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings – and it completely shocked him. The warmth that he had been feeling was Slade. The man had pulled Dick into his chest and wrapped a strong arm around his back and the other one cradled the back of his head; the hand sliding through his hair. The hand on his back was rubbing him in a small soothing motion.

The whispers were Slade’s face bent down near Dick’s ear; his voice speaking calmly, but firmly. At first, Dick panicked wildly, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. The man was holding him – Dick didn’t want this man to comfort him like this. But soon, his soul accepted it – for now. For now, he’d accept it. For now, he’d accept the kindness; the warmth; the comfort.

His breathing began to calm; his palpitating heart began to regulate. Soon, he lifted his hands and pressed them against Slade’s chest. He had to get out of this hold, or else he’d get used to it. He wasn’t supposed to get used to kindness from Slade. This man was supposed to be his captor.

Slade released him. Dick instantly wrapped his arms around his chest as he began to shiver. His skin glistened with a heavy layer of sweat from his panic. The two of them stood there in silence for a few minutes; all the while, Dick shivered.

“What happened?” asked Slade finally; his voice barely above a whisper. The man looked shaken by the whole experience. Dick didn’t answer; still holding himself as he kept his face turned away. More minutes passed. Dick wondered how much patience Slade had obtained now.

“You have a phobia, don’t you?” asked Slade. “A phobia with guns, am I correct?”

Dick whipped his head back towards Slade and shook his head rapidly. Slade raised his eyebrow. Dick bit his lip and cast his eyes downward before he gave a reluctant nod. He closed his eyes, sending a small wave of tears down his face that he didn’t know had collected in his eyes. There was a deep sigh from Slade before Dick felt a strong, but gentle hand grab him by the arm. Dick allowed himself to be led away. He didn’t care any more. He was mentally exhausted. He stared at the floor as he was pulled away. He barely noticed that they left the room and entered the living room in the basement.

Dick was led to the sofa where Slade carefully pushed him down, so that he sat on the couch. Dick just sat there in silence, unsure what the man was going to do next. Was the man going to yell at him for not telling him this important piece of news? It probably threw a wrench in the man’s plans for him.

Something warm wrapped around Dick’s shoulders. He noticed right away that a blanket had been draped around him. Then, Slade sat down on the sofa near him. Dick curled his fingers around the fabric and tightened it around him. He was thankful for it, but his mouth wouldn’t open.

A few more moments passed in silence.

“Dick, I need you to explain to me what caused you to fear guns,” said Slade. Dick didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how he could talk about it. He had never told anyone before. Bruce didn’t know. The Teen Titans didn’t know. Robin didn’t know – well… he did, but he wasn’t affected by it like Dick.

Dick was – extremely so.

“Dick, I can’t help you if you don’t talk about this,” said Slade. Dick lifted his eyes to stare up at the man. Slade looked very somber and serious. Dick wanted to laugh, but he didn’t have the energy. Help him? Slade was acting as if he wanted to help him. That was funny – real good joke.

But Dick’s tongue began to loosen anyway.

“Wh… When I was twelve, Batman wouldn’t let me go on patrol one night…” began Dick hesitantly. Slade was silent, for which Dick was grateful. “He said the Joker was on a violent rampage. I was mad at Bruce, so I went off on my own. He’d been so overprotective lately. It had been driving me crazy. But I should’ve listened to him. I should’ve—”

“What happened, happened,” said Slade, overriding him. “You can’t lament over the mistake, Dick. That doesn’t fix it.”

Dick nodded. He sighed as he curled the blanket around himself some more; feeling the warmth flow over him. He ignored the sticky sensation his perspiring skin was experiencing.

“I… I found the Joker before Batman did. A street—” Dick’s voice broke for a moment as he remembered the terrible scene. “The street was filled with… carnage – carnage like never I had seen before.” Dick quickly wiped a stray tear that was sliding down his face. He noticed briefly that Slade’s lips tightened for a moment. Dick’s tongue began to speed up as he spilled the rest of the tale in a hurry; as if trying to rip off a bandage.

“I fought with him, but I wasn’t fast enough and he ended up shooting me in the leg, so I couldn’t run away. At first, I thought he was going to cut me up, but instead he shot me in the arm. He—”

Dick’s voice broke as he remembered how close that awful crazed demon had gotten to him. An unbidden shiver went through his body before he managed to continue.

“H–he touched me…” Dick’s voice broke as tears began to overflow from his eyes. Slade stiffened slightly; his lips tightening even more, but he didn’t comment. Dick shivered uncontrollably as he remembered the crushing terror and sickening feeling he felt as that terrible psycho touched his cheek.

“He touched the wound and was so close—he was so close to me,” choked Dick. “He—He touched my cheek with his fingers. It was…”

It was too terrible. It was so horrible.

“Th–then, he pulled back and shot me in the shoulder. I seriously thought I was going to die. He said he was going to send me to Batman in a box – in pieces. Then, he laughed that awful, awful sickening laugh as he shot me again – in the chest. I thought I was dead, but the last thing I remember hearing was Batman telling me I was going to live.”

There was more silence. Dick found himself continuing; unsure why he was saying these things to Slade of all people. Maybe it was true that telling someone else didn’t seem so bad as telling the people who cared.

“Obviously, I lived through it,” whispered Dick. “But I had a lot of nightmares about it – a lot. I never told Batman, though. I was terrified of guns and of the Joker after that. I noticed that I flinched badly if I ever heard a gunshot; which in Gotham, it’s part of the ambiance. It took some time, but I recovered and I wanted to go back on patrol with Batman. But he was fiercely opposed to it. He told me that he didn’t want my help any more.”

Dick shrugged irritably as he remembered how angry he had been at Bruce.

“I guess he was worried? But when I protested, he flat out fired me. Said there was no longer a Batman and Robin.”

Dick turned his head away. He wanted to voice his feelings on that matter, but he held back. Slade didn’t need to know that Bruce rejecting him like that had been a worse wound than the four bullets combined that he’d taken from the Joker. It had torn through his heart to the point he had felt that it wasn’t repairable. And when Bruce hadn’t gone after him, it just confirmed all his feelings.

“So, I ran away. I guess I was lucky, since Jump City rarely has major armed robberies. The city just gets metahumans and freaks.” Dick let a small smirk lift the side of his mouth. “With the occasional psychopathic Slade.”

There was a responding smirk from that. Slade remained quiet for a moment longer before he nodded.

“Well, this is definitely a setback, but nothing that can’t be overcome with time and a little hard work,” said Slade. Dick stared at the man in total surprise. Slade’s mouth lifted even further into his smirk; his eyebrow lifting to add to the effect.

“What, did you think that because you have this phobia that you would get out of learning how to use a gun?” asked Slade with a lilt in his tone.

Dick remained silent. Why did the man have to make it sound like he had planned it? It wasn’t his fault that the Joker decided to put holes through him like he was Swiss cheese.

“Dick, listen to me. This is just a weakness. Weaknesses were made to be overcome,” said Slade. Dick looked into Slade’s grey blue eye. He could tell the older man was being serious with him.

“Even if you weren’t my apprentice, this is a bad weakness for a hero,” continued Slade. “Would you scream every time a criminal pointed a gun at you? Would you freeze in fear? This is a very dangerous weakness. You could get killed.”

Dick couldn’t bring himself to explain to the man that when he was Robin, he didn’t freeze up so much against guns. He did all right. There had been times that his heart rate felt like it would burst out of his chest, but he did just fine. It was Slade’s fault for taking his mask away. If he had the mask, then Dick wouldn’t freak out so bad. Robin was strong – he could handle anything.

“But, Dick, I promise you,” began Slade. Dick looked directly into the man’s eye and saw something powerful within them. “I will help you overcome this weakness. We’ll take it slowly and overcome this – together. I swear this to you.”

Dick’s eyes widened in surprise. Slade was… going to help him overcome this? Was he really going to help him? Was Slade really going to patiently help Dick overcome his fear? But that was like Slade wanted to help Dick. But there was no way. Did the man really want to help Dick?

But… the man did swear to it – which meant he gave his word.

Slade was going to help Dick overcome his fear of guns – there was no doubt about that. Somehow Dick knew the man would keep his word. But it was so strange. In Dick’s mind, he still didn’t trust Slade; but in his heart, there was something telling him that the man would keep this promise.

Dick couldn’t help but think that this was more than Bruce ever did, even though he didn’t know about the phobia. What would have Bruce said if he had learned about it? Even without the knowledge, he had wanted Dick to quit. Bruce probably would’ve become even more suffocating in his protection. Dick knew that he meant well, but that wasn’t going to do him any good.

But Slade was telling him that he would help him.

Dick closed his eyes. He was so confused. Slade was being so… soft and gentle right now about this. Dick was falling into a trap. That’s what this had to be – a trap concocted by Slade to lull him into a sense of security. It was scaring him. But there was something else that was absolutely terrifying Dick.

It was working.

“Dick? Will you at least try?”

Slade’s questioning voice was soft and smooth, coaxing in a gentle tone. Dick found himself unable to deny the man. He opened his eyes and gave the man a nod in response. Slade gave him an approving smile and clasped him on the shoulder. The warmth flooded through Dick’s skin, even through the blanket that covered his shoulders; bringing an overwhelming sense of comfort to his soul. He wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“We’ll take it slowly,” said Slade, a knowing smile lifting his mouth. “But I think for the rest of the day we’ll do something else.”

“Okay,” whispered Dick, wondering if he had completely fallen into a trap.

ooOOOOOoo 

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