Forgotten Bonds – Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten
Anger Management

October 12th, 2008. Sunday, 6:00 pm.

Dick was awake before he opened his eyes. The events of the previous night flooded through his mind. As he watched the memories and scenes play in his head, an enormous uncontrollable wave of fierce anger rose in his heart. He hated Slade – hated him. The man hadn’t needed to continue beating him. Dick was furious at him. He felt that he had been unjustly dealt with. Yes, he did something completely stupid and deadly dangerous, but that didn’t mean Slade could vent his fury out on him.

And Wintergreen was no help at all. The old man meant well enough, but he was of no use. Dick hated him too for allowing Slade to have his way with him; even though deep down he understood that the old man didn’t have any power over Slade. Dick still felt resentful towards the old man – he just couldn’t help it right now.

They had made his life a total misery, an inferno of pure torment and suffering. So be it, then. He’d just return the favor. No way in heck he was going to do anything they said. He had tried, he really had; but no more. He was done with them. They were just going end up being cruel anyway. Might as well make the experience just as miserable for them.

With his thoughts in a whirl, he didn’t notice right away that he wasn’t in any pain.

He opened his eyes quickly. That’s right – he wasn’t in pain. There were no aches and pains, no muscles screaming at him in protest at the harsh reality. He felt fine. Well, that was debatable, but physically he felt fine. He slowly sat up; the covers pushing forward. There was a sharp intake of breath in the room and then, a cool hand pressed at his forehead.

Shocked by the sudden contact with humans, Dick flinched violently; smashing his back against the wall with his eyes wide against the hand. His breathing intensified. He didn’t want anyone touching him. He hated everything and everyone. Anyone who was around him only ended up hurting him. He didn’t want anyone to be near him. He didn’t—

“Child!” cried Wintergreen’s voice. “It’s all right. It’s only me. I’m not going to hurt you. Calm yourself.”

Dick focused his eyes. Sure enough, the old man was sitting in the chair from his desk, close to the bedside, and staring at Dick with large, concerned eyes. Dick let out a slow breath; taking another deep breath afterwards. It was okay. The old man wouldn’t harm him directly. He only let Slade do that for him.

Dick’s eyes narrowed at Wintergreen.

“Wha—what are you doing here?” asked Dick; suspicion dripping throughout his tone. He didn’t bother to be polite. This old man wasn’t his friend. No matter how often the old man smiled at him, he was not to be trusted.

“I tended to your… injuries,” said Wintergreen, sounding as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth. “I gave you a shot of the healing serum and you seem to be doing much better, thank goodness.”

“Shouldn’t have needed a serum in the first place,” snarled Dick.

“I agree.”

“Then, why didn’t you stop him!” cried Dick, uncaring that his tone was filled with betrayal. “You always seemed… like you actually cared. Unlike him.”

“I do care. Very much, in fact,” said Wintergreen, his tone filled with a soft kindness. However, his face slid away into a stern glare that made Dick squirm suddenly. He didn’t like that look.

“Which brings me to a subject I never got a chance to discuss with you,” said Wintergreen; a firm glint entering his eyes. “I must say I do not agree with what Slade did to you, but that doesn’t mean I’m at all pleased with your latest stunt. You could’ve blown yourself up! I thought you were intelligent.”

Dick ground his teeth furiously. First Slade knocked him around and now the old man was giving him a lecture. He was sick of it – completely fed up.

“I am intelligent!” protested Dick, glaring at the old man.

“Could’ve fooled me,” said Wintergreen with a lifted eyebrow. He shook his head and sent Dick a fierce frown. “I swear, I have a half notion to pull you over my knee and warm your backside for an hour.”

Dick bristled, feeling alarmed; knowing full well the old man could and would make due on that notion.

“Shut up!” snapped Dick defensively. “You have no right!”

“Oh, I have every right, young man,” retorted Wintergreen. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. And that is not something I need at my age, thank you very much. Terrified me right out of my wits you did. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I thought you were seriously hurt! Can’t tell you how thankful I was to see you well.” Wintergreen breathed a sigh of relief, before sending a wry, yet frightening smirk at Dick. “Although after that, I must admit, I was so ready to shake you and tan your hide so fast that it’d make your head spin. But I personally think Slade sent the message of how stupid your stunt was home enough. So, you’re off the hook with me.”

“I shouldn’t even be on the ‘hook’!” shouted Dick, slicing a hand in the air and nearly smashing it into the wall. He was taken aback that he had made the old man worry so much. But at that moment, he didn’t care. No matter what these men said, they weren’t to be trusted. “I should be back home in Titans Tower! I shouldn’t even be here! I hate it here. I hate Slade. I hate you. I hate everything. Get out already!”

“Young man—”

“GET OUT!” screamed Dick; his throat tearing at the intense volume. The old man stood; looking thoroughly displeased with him, but Dick didn’t care. He wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to be around anyone. He needed to think. He was going to go crazy.

Wintergreen slowly walked to the door, pausing a moment. He glanced back at Dick, a determined look filling his face.

“Everything will get better from now on. That much I will promise you.”

Dick was moving without even realizing it. The fury in his veins was making him do things without his control. He ripped the digital clock out of the wall and chucked it at the old man with all his power; a closed, muffled scream in his mouth ripping his throat. His aim was off because of the blinding rage he felt in his blood. The clock smashed into the open door about a foot away from Wintergreen’s head. It shattered into endless pieces and fell to the floor instantly.

Wintergreen looked momentarily stunned. But he didn’t say anything as he closed the door behind himself.

Dick’s chest heaved up and down as he gasped for breath through his fury. Sobs threatened to burst through his wall of strength. Growling and using his anger as a barrier, he reeled in his tears. Crying wasn’t going to get him out of this situation. He was destined to stay; bound by the abusive Slade for the rest of his life. He wasn’t going to be happy. No matter what he did, there would be no peace for him.

Nothing was going to change Slade, after all.

ooOOOOOoo

October 12th, 2008. Sunday, 6:05 pm.

“How’s the boy?” asked Slade immediately as Wintergreen walked into the kitchen. The old man pitted him a harsh glare before turning away; walking to the countertop and beginning to pull a number of items out of the cabinets. So, the old man was angry at him, hm?

“Well?” prodded Slade. Wintergreen slammed a can onto the countertop and whirled around furiously.

“How do you think?” snapped Wintergreen, his tone dripping with venom – a rare sign that he was positively livid beyond measure. “Just how do you think he’s doing? He was beaten until unconscious last night. He hates you!”

“In time, he’ll—”

“In time, he’ll what, Slade?” growled Wintergreen, interrupting him. “He’ll like you? Adore you? Praise you? View you as a wonderful benevolent teacher and mentor?” Wintergreen scoffed. “That’s such crap and you know it.”

“He nearly killed himself last night,” argued Slade. “What was I suppose to do? Slap him on the wrist, wag my finger at him, and call him a naughty boy?”

Wintergreen folded his arms and shot Slade a considering look. “So, you were worried that Richard would hurt himself. Weren’t you?”

“What?” breathed Slade in surprise, unsettled. He waved at him dismissively. “Of course not.”

“Oh? Oh, you’re right. How foolish of me to even think that,” said Wintergreen sardonically, blinking incredulously. “You weren’t worried for his welfare – heaven forbid.”

“You’re not funny, Will.”

“Good, I wasn’t trying to be,” snipped Wintergreen, turning around and continuing his work on dinner. “There is nothing funny about beating a child.”

“Then, what do you suggest I do, Will? The boy just isn’t listening to me.”

“Should’ve tanned his hide,” muttered Wintergreen under his breath, venting his anger out on the unsuspecting items for dinner; slamming anything he could against the countertop. Slade let out a scoffing laugh.

“I love your jokes, Will. I really do. But that has to be the worst I’ve heard in a long time,” said Slade with a deriding chuckle, shaking his head. Wintergreen whirled around again, looking incredulous.

“Who’s joking? I’m very serious.”

“Oh, please,” said Slade. “This is ridiculous. Enough of this nonsense.”

“This isn’t nonsense!” protested Wintergreen in an almost pleading tone. “The child is so confused and so angry, he actually threw his clock at me in total frustration.”

“He did what? He threw his clock at you? How dare he – he ought to be—”

“What he does to me is my problem,” said Wintergreen, sharply overriding Slade. “I’ll reprimand him later for such an act, but not now. He’s angry and hurt. He needs some space.”

“You can’t just expect me—”

“I can and I will!” snapped Wintergreen. “What he did is my problem. Enough—” Wintergreen slammed his hand against the countertop and pointed an fierce finger at Slade; those aged, hazel green eyes lighted with furious fire. “I am done with this. Either you change or let him go. But I refuse to stand by and watch you hurt him like this any longer. He’s unhappy, confused, frightened, angry, and just downright miserable. He’s fourteen years old, for crying out loud! He’s a child; he shouldn’t be miserable. He should be happy; content; safe. I’m dead serious, Slade – change or let him go. You’re going to kill him if you keep this pace up.”

Wintergreen whirled back to his work, his fury still quite evident. There was an uncomfortable stiff silence between the two of them.

“Will… You know I can’t change any more,” said Slade finally in a low undertone. There was a heavy scoff from Wintergreen as he whirled back around again to face Slade.

“That’s just a cop out, Slade!” snapped Wintergreen; his hazel eyes flashing dangerously. “Just because you’re all—whatever—doesn’t mean you can’t change something like beating a child. Don’t give me that crap! You most certainly can change. And you better do it quickly, too; before that poor child is dead by your hand.”

Wintergreen turned back to the countertop, placing his hands onto the surface as he hunched over; his chest heaving a deep sigh. Slade sighed lightly; mulling over the words that Wintergreen had spoken.

The older man was right on many levels. Slade didn’t want Dick to be unhappy, but there was no helping it if the boy was decisively disobedient. How else could he discipline Dick? The boy had to be punished properly for such a stupid and dangerous stunt. Slade’s heart hadn’t raced in palpitation at that speed in years! And no, he wasn’t worried. He was just furious that the boy would endanger his life so foolishly. If the boy was going to continue to be disrespectful and disobedient, then there was no way Slade was going to let him get away with it.

“Will,” began Slade carefully, shifting slightly. “I… appreciate your advice. But—”

“And I’d appreciate it if you considered it, instead dismissed it,” snapped Wintergreen, his back still turned to Slade. “Advice is useless on deaf ears. I’m tired of blowing hot air around here.”

Slade sighed again. Well, there was no easing the old man’s anger right now. It was best to leave him alone to simmer down with his work. Slade turned away silently and walked slowly down the hallway. If Dick was angry, then perhaps a little easy sparring would do him some good to burn off the extra energy.

Once Slade reached Dick’s door, he opened it slowly. He noticed the door opened with trouble slightly. He glanced down and saw the shattered remains of the clock. So, the boy really had thrown the clock. He’d have to take care of that later. But now, it was time to calm the boy down. Slade looked back up.

Dick was lying in bed with his hands behind his head; staring up at the ceiling. His eyes flickered in Slade’s direction as he entered. His face turned into a dark scowl. Slade held back a chuckle at the look on the boy’s face. He really wasn’t happy to see him – far from it.

“Evening, Dick,” said Slade cordially.

“What do you want?” growled Dick. Slade could almost see the absolute loathing drip from the boy’s tone. His bright blue eyes were now darkened with pure hate.

“Coming to see how you’re doing, is all,” said Slade; trying extremely hard not lose his temper with the insolent boy.

“I’m fine. No thanks to you,” snarled Dick. “Now get out.”

Slade took a very deep breath; trying hard to control his anger. It was okay. He wasn’t going to lose it. The boy was angry about last night. Who wouldn’t be? Slade had to let the boy’s feelings slide this time or Wintergreen would be even more furious with him.

“Will is preparing dinner. How about a clean spar beforehand?” suggested Slade, trying to sound pleasant. Dick only sent him a fiercer glare.

“Do I even have a choice?”

“Not particularly, no,” admitted Slade, smirking beneath his mask. He tilted his head in a bounce. “Come on, it will do you some good. We’ll go easy.”

Dick growled in his throat as he threw the covers off. Slade noticed that he was dressed in pajamas, but decided against telling the boy to change. Dick stood up and folded his arms, glaring at Slade.

“Since when do you go easy?” accused Dick. Slade merely turned away and walked out of the room; taking all his self control to not slap the boy for his disrespect. Dick’s mouth was getting even more sharp. Slade hoped that Dick would consider some self preservation and shut it soon. Slade wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself from rounding on the boy and giving him a good hard shake.

Dick trailed after Slade as they walked down the hallway. When they reached the kitchen, Slade could tell that Wintergreen was still in a bad mood. He wordlessly opened the basement door and continued down the stairs without speaking to the old man. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he waited for Dick to follow.

“You ready?” asked Slade, once Dick reached the floor. He readied himself into a stance. Dick merely scowled and did the same. Soon, they rushed at each other. Dick was fierce with every blow. Slade lazily blocked each one. He didn’t comment on the boy’s insistence on not controlling his emotions. He knew that would only infuriate the boy further like it usually did. Now wasn’t a time for instruction, but a time to burn off some steam.

Slade noticed that Dick intensified his attacks, trying his all to land a full blown attack on him. Slade upped his end as well, but holding back his power. He didn’t want to hurt the boy tonight; not after yesterday. Slade threw a punch forward and Dick flipped backwards with his flexible acrobatic skills. Slade smiled under his mask. Those nimble acrobat moves were one of the things Slade greatly admired in the boy. It made him unique in his attacking skills and style.

After a while, a sheen of sweat glimmered on Dick’s exposed skin. He was breathing heavily through the sparring. Slade lessened his power and attacks even more, not wanting to push the boy. Finally, Dick threw a wild punch towards Slade and he caught it in his hand. Easily, Slade tossed Dick over his shoulder; the boy landed with a thump and a low groan as he rolled onto his knees. Slade walked to him slowly. Sensing that the spar was over, he decided to question the boy.

“I heard you threw a clock at Will. Care to explain that?” said Slade casually, almost conversationally.

“Shove off, Slade,” snapped Dick, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead. His chest lifted up and down quickly with his heavy breathing. Slade’s eye narrowed. Now that tone just would not do – at all.

“I have little patience for that, boy,” said Slade; letting his tone go dark.

“Well, I have ‘little patience’ for you,” snarled Dick.

“Why do you insist on being such a blasted brat?” growled Slade, reaching down and grabbing Dick by the scuff of his neck. He pulled the boy to his feet and pushed him against the wall. “I think you should mind your tone. I’ve been exceptionally patient with you tonight.”

“Why couldn’t you have been oh, so ‘exceptionally patient’ last night, huh?!” cried Dick. “I was sorry! Really and truly sorry! But you had to go and lay it into me.”

“And just how was I suppose to know you were truly repentant?” demanded Slade. “You very well could’ve just been trying to avoid a very well deserved punishment.”

“You didn’t care to see or notice if I really meant it or not!” shouted Dick in protest. “Besides, nobody ever deserves to be beaten into the dirt!”

“I beg to differ at that,” smirked Slade.

“What is this, Slade?!” cried Dick hysterically, running a hand through his ungelled hair. “What do you really want from me? Do you like having control over me or something? Is that it? What am I supposed to expect from you?!”

“You impudent little brat!” growled Slade, shaking Dick by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare put this on me. You’re the one who pulled that dangerous stunt knowing full well the consequences that would follow.”

A terribly icy glare slid over Dick’s brilliant blue eyes; darkness seeping through them.

“Drop dead, Slade,” snarled Dick viciously. “I hate you.”

Slade raised a hand to slap the boy, but clenched his fist in the effort to hold back. It took every fiber of his being to reel back his temper. He couldn’t lose it yet. No. No, he had to hold back. The boy was still bitter after last night. Dick’s eyes widened for a brief moment before they hardened as he saw the attack coming. But when the attack didn’t come, it had the exact opposite effect that Slade would’ve assumed.

“Make a choice already, would you!” cried Dick, his eyes becoming wide with confusion and hurt. Slade raised an eyebrow, thoroughly perplexed by the sudden change in the boy.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Just hit me already!” screamed Dick, the words flying from his mouth quickly. “Stop holding back. Stop being nice! Yo—you’re confusing me! I don’t know what to expect from you any more. First, you give me hope, and then you slam it right back into my face. There’s no hope! I’m going insane!” Dick grabbed his head, shaking it slightly. “Just leave me alone already. Please, I’m begging you. Stop this. Stop…”

What on earth…? What is the boy talking about – hope?

Dick clenched his fists and lifted them, striking weakly at Slade’s chest. The blows were pathetic; obviously only meant to enrage him. Slade didn’t even bother to evade the boy.

“I hate you!” screamed Dick, tears flooding his eyes, but not to overflowing. “Just get it over with already! You’re just going to hit me again, aren’t you? Well, there’s nothing to hold you back – just get it over with already! I ca—I can’t—handle—”

Slade sighed and lifted his hand. One slap. That’s all he would do… first. The boy was going into hysterics. One slap and it would bring him back to his senses. After that, maybe a bit more. The boy was overstepping his bounds yet again with this outrageous behavior and Slade wasn’t going to put up with it. Was it the stress, perhaps?

But Slade held back his hand as an angry voice flooded the room.

“Enough of this!” bellowed Wintergreen.

Dick blinked; shocked to see a very, very angry Wintergreen at the stairs. Dick had never seen the old man look so furious in his entire time here. It was strange, to say the least. Dick’s breathing regulated as silence permeated the room; none of them willing to break it. His heart began to calm down as his brain began to register what had just happened.

He had lost it.

Completely and thoroughly lost all control over his emotions. His heart had been pumping wildly, his emotions running him ragged inside. He had been so confused that Slade hadn’t scolded him for his snide retorts and blatant disrespect. The man had shown him patience. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Slade was suppose to slap him around angrily. But the man had held his temper the entire time.

It had caused Dick to snap. He couldn’t figure the man out. What was his motive with him? Why couldn’t he just choose a side? Why’d he have to flip back and forth – confuse the heck out of him? Either be nice or be mean – Dick was going to go crazy otherwise. He had just decided to be as impossible as he could with Slade, but when the man actually tried to hold back… Dick honestly didn’t want to hope that Slade would be softer only for such a wish to be cruelly snatched away.

On top of it all, Dick hated himself for wanting the man to be gentle. Wasn’t he supposed to be the enemy? But a part of Dick had relented. He was tired of constantly fighting against him. There was absolutely no hope in escaping the man. But he couldn’t trust Slade not to confuse him. The man wasn’t safe. Dick wanted to be content with his situation – he really did. Being miserable was exhausting and just not fun at all.

But he was just so tired of being led along.

“Child,” started Wintergreen, turning a firm glance at him. “Go to your room. Slade will be up to see you in a few minutes.”

Dick widened his eyes, surprised by the command. He hesitated, throwing a glance at Slade. What was he supposed to do? Should he obey Wintergreen?

“But—”

“Will just gave you an order,” growled Slade, his grey blue eye flashing darkly. “Obey him!”

Dick jumped at the sharp tone and hurried to the stairs, meekly walking up them. What was going to happen next? Was Slade going to come and get him later? Finish the job? Fear began to pump through his veins with every step. He wasn’t sure if he could handle this any more. If Slade didn’t physically kill him first, the stress of it all would.

Wintergreen remained silent as he watched the boy walk up the stairs. It wasn’t until a few moments after the door of the basement closed that he rounded on Slade with a terribly fierce glare.

“I thought I told you I wouldn’t stand by you hitting that child like this any more,” said Wintergreen in an soft, icy tone.

“And I thought I made it clear to you that I need that boy to obey,” retorted Slade. “How dare you usurp my authority in front of him. It’s one thing to talk to me without him around, but another when I’m dealing with him!”

Wintergreen growled deeply.

“Blast it, Slade! Beating that child isn’t going to do him any good. It’s not teaching him anything but to fear you.”

“He needs discipline!”

“This is no longer discipline, but abuse. I’m sick and tired of mopping the floor with his blood. A child should not ever bleed!” cried Wintergreen desperately. Slade waved a hand in the air, scoffing loudly.

“And just what do you suggest, then? How should I discipline him? Take away his toys?” demanded Slade, his tone dripping with incredulity. There was a moment of quiet as the old man didn’t answer him right away. Then, Wintergreen took a deep breath.

“I know you had a soft spot for Sarah Rose, but how did you discipline Grant and Joseph?”

“I—”

Slade stopped; staring at Wintergreen with a widening eye. The old man had been serious earlier. Slade couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Slade opened his mouth for a minute, unable to formulate his words. After taking a deep breath, he regained his voice.

“You’re suggesting I do that to the boy?” breathed Slade.

“Yes, I am,” said Wintergreen. There was no indication that the old man was joking. There was a deep, serious light in the man’s aged eyes.

“Spank him?” questioned Slade with a raised eyebrow. “Have you gone senile? If beating him doesn’t work, what on earth makes you think spanking him will?”

“It worked for me,” said Wintergreen, a wry smirk beginning to lift his wrinkled mouth. Slade stopped suddenly, staring at the old man in utter shock.

“You spanked him? When?” demanded Slade.

“Oh, about three weeks ago,” said Wintergreen pleasantly. “Remember when he first called you ‘sir’?”

“Just how did all this come about?” asked Slade, still sounding taken aback.

“He was in a bit of a bad mood that morning,” explained Wintergreen, his tone overflowing with amusement. “Very belligerent and grumpy. But I understood that his situation was difficult for him. But when he called me an old man… Well, you know I don’t respond pleasantly to that. I warned him; I really did.”

“And… and you spanked him, then?” said Slade, his eye wide with shock. He knew the old man was no pushover, but Slade never imagined that he’d take Dick in hand.

“Oh, not much. I grabbed him by the ear and just gave him one good hard swat,” said Wintergreen, smiling. “Never have I seen a more embarrassed child in my entire life – but repentant. My word, he was redder than an apple. Settled him down quite a bit after that. Don’t you remember?”

Slade paused as he sifted through his memories of the past few weeks. Now that he mentioned it… There had been a morning where he had been completely surprised by the boy. It had been before Slade had Dick remove his mask. Slade could still remember the boy fidgeting in his chair, his cheeks brightly flushed. The rest of the day the boy had been quite pleasant, actually.

Was that what had happened?

“I still think this is ridiculous,” said Slade, shaking his head. “It’s not like it’ll work any better.”

“Oh, please, Slade. First of all, a month has passed,” started Wintergreen. “Have you made any progress with him using your method? Any at all?”

Slade let out an annoyed sigh and shook his head once. Of course, the old man would point out the obvious. Such a meddling old man. Firing him just wasn’t an option any more, though, sadly.

“You’ve definitely made the boy afraid of you. That much is sure,” said Wintergreen. “He does fear you. But he flinches around movement. He’s afraid of humans now. He literally freaked out when I tried to touch him when he woke up. He hates us. He’s angry at everything. And it’s his strong will and pride that keeps him fighting against you, even with the threat of a beating.”

“I have to break that will, so I can—”

“If you break that will, then you have lost yourself that valuable apprentice that you want so much,” said Wintergreen, firmly overriding Slade. “Isn’t it that strong will that made you desire him as an heir?”

“Of course.”

“Breaking it will destroy him,” argued Wintergreen. “Instead of making yourself the master, you need to establish a bond with Richard. Make him want to please you. I watch the child a lot. He does want to please you at times, but you’re frightening. And he’s very lonely. He’s used to being around people – noisy people at that. This is your chance to bond with him; if you haven’t mucked it all up with that recent unfortunate idiocy you call your ‘discipline’ technique. You need to soften up with him.”

“I will not coddle him. He is—”

“He is an affection starved child,” said Wintergreen, quickly overriding Slade once again. “He lost his parents at a tender age and was taken in by a man that was greatly hardened by life. I highly doubt when he was with Wayne he received much praise and affection. This is your chance to bond with him. Praise him for good behavior, punish him for bad. He is a child, Slade. As with all children, he needs consistency and boundaries. You have done none of this and it’s quite apparent that he is confused.”

“I’ve made it quite clear what I expect from him!” protested Slade.

“Yes, but little infractions cause him a harsh backhand or a punch in the gut. You are too harsh. You lose your temper too often over little things. Not to mention you’re inconsistent.”

“So, I won’t get the ‘Father of the Year’ award,” drawled Slade in thick sarcasm. “I’m not striving for it.”

“No,” started Wintergreen. His tone turned to a soft, reverent murmur. “But you must ask yourself what exactly do you want from the child. Do you want a broken servant? Or do you want a loyal partner? If you change your tactic with Richard, you just might get yourself a powerfully loyal young man by your side, despite his previous feelings and morals. But, you must make the bond! He cannot do it – it must be you.”

There was silence between the two men as Wintergreen’s words settled inside Slade’s mind. He knew his friend was right. He wasn’t getting anywhere with the boy. But being… gentle with the boy? How was he suppose to manage that? It had been years since he’d had any interaction with children. Would this really work?

“What am I to do, Will?” asked Slade in a soft sigh, shaking his head. “You know I lose my temper easily with him. He is just so infuriating sometimes.”

“I can offer two solutions,” said Wintergreen with a light smile. “The first, try counting to ten when he infuriates you. Take deep breaths as you do so. Second, you can put an earpiece into your ear, so I can speak to you without the boy knowing. Then, should you have leave of your senses, I can bring you back.”

Slade raised an eyebrow and smirked underneath his mask. He folded his arms and eyed Wintergreen.

“Is that so?”

“Quite. You should lay down the rules and what you expect from him. You should also, in return for his respect, swear never to beat him again.”

“I can’t do—”

“You must,” said Wintergreen flatly. “If you don’t, the boy won’t trust you. Already he fears you. I bet at this very moment he is very afraid of what is to happen to him. You must promise never to beat him and you must keep that promise – no matter what. It will take time to rebuild his trust. But, if you do that, I think even now he will begin to trust you again.”

Slade didn’t respond at first, heavily considering Wintergreen’s advice. The old man was right – the boy certainly didn’t trust him at all. It was completely apparent in the boy’s eyes. Would promising Dick that he would never beat him again actually bring trust?

“And his discipline?”

“A simple swat for small infractions should send the message home quite well,” said Wintergreen with a light smile. “And only a full spanking for extreme moments like now. And I would tell him your plan beforehand. Be completely open with him. Children appreciate it, whether they’ll admit it or not.”

Slade sighed; placing a hand behind his neck and rubbing his skin deeply. “I’m still not so sure about this.”

“Think of it this way. Being draped over your knee like some naughty five year old will definitely deal a serious blow on the boy’s pride and ego. He won’t want to repeat it – ever. It is humiliating, yet painful; but not a permanent injury,” said Wintergreen. Then, a small smirk spread across his face, before he added dryly, “And the best news, no cleanup for me.”

Slade chuckled at that. After a moment, he sobered and in a quiet voice, spoke, “Do you really think this’ll work?”

“Children are amazing creatures,” said Wintergreen with a wide smile. “While infinitely different, they are all the same when it comes to simple consistency. What have you to lose if you try it?”

“Not much, I suppose,” murmured Slade. After a long moment, he let out a single determined breath. “All right, I’ll try it.”

In three long strides, he reached the stairs and began to walk up them; passing Wintergreen three stairs up. As he passed the old man, Wintergreen spoke up once more.

“Remember, he is deathly afraid of you,” whispered Wintergreen. “Be firm with him, but gentle. Above all, you must be gentle and reassuring. And lastly, one more piece of advice… Leave your mask behind. You can’t bond with metal.”

Slade continued up the stairs without answering his friend. Now that piece of advice he didn’t like. His identity had been meant to be a reward to the boy. But… By removing his mask, he did lower a barrier – one where he could become more familiar with Dick. Slade understood exactly what Wintergreen was suggesting. As usual, he was right.

You can’t bond with a slab of metal.

But it still wasn’t something he was quite ready to do. As he reached the basement door, he opened it slowly. He hesitated, half considering just walking to the boy’s room without taking his mask off. But he held back. He understood completely the need to remove the mask. It would bring trust and they desperately needed that right now.

Well, Wintergreen was usually always right about these things. All through the years that Slade had known him, the old man had proven that much.

With a deep sigh, Slade pulled his mask off and placed it onto the kitchen table carefully. With one last glance at the two toned mask, he walked down the hallway towards Dick’s room. Wintergreen was right: it was now or never to change the tide of things and Slade was dead determined to have that boy as his apprentice. If he had to adjust a little to have that desire, then so be it.

He was willing to try anything.

ooOOOOOoo

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