Forgotten Bonds – Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One
Tender Promptings

February 20th, 2009. Friday, 7:21 am.

Slade was still alive.

It was still taking Dick time to wrap his brain around it. He would always double check to see if it was true; always checking that chest to see if it lifted in the man’s continual breathing; always checking to see if the man’s skin was alive with his flesh colors – always double checking; always.

And Dick was always gifted with relief inside his heart.

The full implications of his feelings were a bit too much for Dick to completely process at that time. They were too farfetched, too frightening, too everything to acknowledge at that moment. Such feelings changed everything he ever knew about himself. All he allowed himself to think about, to feel, was the overpowering relief that always flowed through him at the single all too beautiful thought.

Slade would never die on him.

The fact that he was relieved by that was also crazy, but Dick allowed it. He needed that relief – needed it with his entire soul. He needed Slade to be alive. He… needed the man. How, why, when didn’t matter anymore; he just knew that he needed Slade and he needed him alive.

Anything more and Dick pushed such thoughts down, still too frightened by them and what they fully meant – no matter how many times they lilted, trilled, or fluttered at him.

It was early morning a few days later and Dick was currently at the table eating his breakfast with Wintergreen. Slade hadn’t surfaced that morning yet. But then, at that moment, Dick looked up from his orange juice to see Slade walking into the kitchen completely suited up – except for the mask, which he was carrying in his hand.

Dick automatically watched the familiar rising of the man’s chest for a moment – just out of habit; recharging his relief.

“No breakfast for me, Will. Just some coffee,” said Slade, sitting down at the table. Wintergreen hurried to stand up and began to prepare Slade a cup.

“Where are you going?” asked Dick, setting his glass down onto the table.

“Mission,” said Slade flatly.

Dick blinked and couldn’t hold back the excitement that began to rise inside his chest. Another mission? He’d be able to get out again. The excitement of being able to leave the haunt yet again was too much. But at the same time, his fears rose. He honestly didn’t want to experience a mission like he had just witnessed. If all of Slade’s missions were going to be like that, Dick knew that his heart would begin to fail him – and no doubt Dick would be sporting a full head of white hair of his own by the time he turned sixteen if he had to watch the man die over and over again.

But he couldn’t understand why Slade hadn’t told him earlier or he would’ve been ready by now.

“Cool! When do we leave?”

“We do not leave. I leave,” said Slade as he adjusted the strap around his shoulder and chest that held the holster to his gun and the sheath to his broadsword.

What…?

Dick’s heart fell inside his chest. Why was only Slade going? Why couldn’t he come? Slade needed him at his side, after all, right? He hadn’t gotten in the man’s way during the last mission, right? Dick was still needed, right?

Right?

“Wait, what? Why can’t I come?” asked Dick, his chest beginning to rise higher in his breathing.

“Because I said so,” said Slade, accepting a mug of coffee from Wintergreen; nodding to the old man once in polite thankfulness.

“That’s not an answer,” protested Dick. He hated when Slade did this. ‘Because I said so.’ That wasn’t an answer. That’s what the man said when he was evading him. And just why couldn’t he come? They just had a mission and he thought he did pretty well on it. Sure it had been a little… well, whatever. Was it because he hadn’t killed that assassin? But Slade had said that he hadn’t minded.

Was Dick forever stuck here because he wouldn’t kill?

“It’s my answer,” said Slade, his tone turning threatening as his grey blue eye flashed dangerously.

“Still not good enough!” cried Dick, his chest constricting tightly.

“Calm yourself, child,” chided Wintergreen gently as he sat down at the table. Dick whirled his head towards Wintergreen; sending the old man an irritated glare. He wasn’t going to be calm over this. No way. There was nothing to be calm about at that moment. Slade was trying to brush him off. Slade was acting like he didn’t need Dick any more.

But he did too need him!

“No! I wanna know why I can’t come,” demanded Dick. “I thought I did a good job last time.”

“Mind your tongue, boy. Will is to be treated with respect,” snapped Slade, jabbing a sharp finger in his direction. Then, the man sighed, his tone softening. “And you were perfect. That has nothing to do with this.”

“Why can’t I come then?” insisted Dick.

“I am not having this conversation with you,” said Slade, sounding slightly exasperated as he shook his head.

Quit blowing me off!

“Well, I am,” snapped Dick. “You can’t just leave me behind. I thought I was supposed to be your apprentice. I can’t be that unless you bring me along.”

“Stop this, Dick.”

“You stop this!” cried Dick, bolting to his feet; his chest feeling so tight in its constricting he almost couldn’t breathe. “This isn’t fair. Why aren’t you explaining anything? You’re just giving me crap answers.”

Slade stood. This had a much greater effect than Dick’s move. The man’s height towered as he looked down at him with a stern eye. The effect was extremely intimidating – especially since the man was in his Kevlar suit – but Dick stood his ground against him.

“You will stop this now or face the consequences,” threatened Slade. Dick took a deep breath; folding his arms angrily. This probably was asking for it, but he didn’t care. This time he was right. He wasn’t going to let the man pull his authority over him like this. It just wasn’t fair.

“I won’t,” said Dick. “Not until you give me a good explanation.”

“Dick—”

“No!” cried Dick, his arms bolting down to his sides in clenched fists. “You need to tell me what’s going on. I was able to go on the last mission. You need a partner! You need me!”

Dick was instantly grabbed by the arm and forcibly turned to the side. He knew it was coming and he tried to evade it by arching his back out of the way, but to no avail. There was a loud slapping sound as the familiar sharp sting flowed over his seat afterwards. He bit his lower lip as his chest filled with anger at the injustice. He was turned back to face Slade, the man’s hands firmly clasped on his upper arms.

“Stop this nonsense before you get yourself into further trouble,” said Slade in a low, smooth voice; his face stern as his eye glinted suggestively. Dick wrenched himself out of Slade’s grip; anger pouring through him uncontrollably.

“No! This totally sucks! Why aren’t you talking to me?” shouted Dick.

“Watch your mouth!”

“No!” cried Dick, fists balling up once again; his arms trembling as his chest twisted and tightened. “I don’t get you! Why are you doing this?”

It wasn’t fair. Slade wasn’t supposed to do this to him. This is what Batman did. Batman was the one who didn’t need him any more. Slade wasn’t supposed to stop needing him. Wasn’t that what the man needed, wanted – a partner? Wasn’t that the whole freaking reason why the man brought him here in the first place? Was Slade suddenly going to fire him, too? Why did everyone stop believing in him? Why did everyone stop needing him?!

“I thought… I seriously thought I was supposed to be—”

“Dick, I don’t want you on this mission,” said Slade, his tone firm and sounding slightly exasperated. “It’s as simple as that. What is the matter with you? It doesn’t mean there won’t be other missions. I just don’t need—”

‘I just don’t need…’

“No!” shouted Dick, only hearing those words in his ears. “You do need me. Why are you doing this? If I failed last time, then I’ll do better this time, okay? Just let me come!”

“You are not coming,” snapped Slade severely, his tone rising with his temper. “And that’s final. You have one more chance before I end this. Don’t push me—”

“No! You can’t stop me! You can’t leave me behind like this. I’m going with you whether you like it or not!” cried Dick, slicing a hand through the air in his fury.

A low, feral growl rumbled from deep within Slade’s throat. It nearly echoed throughout the room. Dick was grabbed by the underarm as Slade began to march towards the hallway; dragging Dick with him in his firm grip.

Oh, no, he won’t.

Dick wrenched free of Slade’s grasp, darting away to put some distance between him and the man. He wasn’t going to let the man do that to him – not when he wasn’t doing anything wrong. This time Slade was wrong. He didn’t have the right to leave him behind. He didn’t have the right to stop needing him. Slade couldn’t punish him for no reason. No. No. No.

But Dick was grabbed around the waist from behind. He was easily lifted into the air and pulled underneath Slade’s arm. Dick pulled his arms free and began to pound his fists against the man’s lower Kevlar scaled back; flailing fiercely.

“Let me go, Slade!” shouted Dick. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Lemme go!”

But he was being carried out of the kitchen; completely unable to be freed of the iron grasp as he hung in this man’s arm. Dick glanced up to plead for Wintergreen’s help, but the old man only had a poignant, concerned look on his face. Oh, but it was fully obvious he wasn’t going to interfere.

Dang it!

Dick struggled with all his strength. He twisted, turned, jerked, kicked, pounded; but he couldn’t get out of the iron hold. No! He wasn’t going to put up with this. He just wasn’t. This wasn’t fair at all. His fists struck against Slade’s back as he protested fiercely against the injustice, kicking his legs wildly. His chest was constricting even more through his emotions.

This just wasn’t fair! He couldn’t bear it if Slade wasn’t going to need him any more. Bruce had tossed him away so easily. There was no way he was going through that again. Slade had wanted him; well, the man sure as heck was gonna have him. There was just no way he could toss Dick aside now after all this time. The man had stolen six months of his life. Can’t steal that and then toss him aside like a rotten banana peel.

Just no freaking way.

Dick swallowed nervously as he watched them pass over the threshold of his room. No! He wasn’t going to accept this. He squirmed furiously. No. Just, no—the man didn’t have the right this time. Dick hadn’t done anything wrong—only when he was wrong could the man do this. Dick was right this time. He wasn’t going to let the man sp… spa… Oh, man; he couldn’t even say that word. The man didn’t have the right to wallop him this time.

Just. No.

Slade sat down on the chair with Dick still in his grasp and now thoroughly draped over the man’s Kevlar covered knees. No! He wasn’t going to accept this. He squirmed and fought viciously against the iron hold that clamped him down around his waist. This wasn’t fair. He wouldn’t accept this. No. No. Stop it. He just wanted to help Slade. Why couldn’t the man realize that? This just wasn’t fair! This couldn’t be happening—

Oh crap.

There was no escaping it; the barrage of slaps that pelted his seat. The biting sting with each slap that landed with terrible accuracy merely reiterated the injustice of the whole thing. He didn’t deserve this. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Slade was being completely unfair right now.

So unfair.

His chest heaved with his breathing as he tried to maintain his emotions, but he was so angry, so unhappy, so affronted that the torrent of his emotions broke through his defenses. He couldn’t stop the burning in his eyes. He couldn’t stop the tears that began to flow from them.

There was nothing he could do any more. Temporary exhaustion set in after his fierce struggle that he fell limply; his body accepting his injustice. He silently sobbed through it; the tears flowing endlessly. He hated this – this was totally and completely unfair. He almost felt betrayed by the whole thing.

After enduring a few minutes of the punishment-that-wasn’t-deserved, it finally stopped. Dick was righted, but he didn’t look up as Slade pushed him to sit down. His body winced as his fiery, stinging seat hit the mattress. His face was completely drenched in his tears.

“Dick, this was well earned. No matter what, you shouldn’t have acted—”

Slade stopped suddenly, his face flooded with shock as Dick raised his head to look up at him. Dick quickly ran a rough palm over his eyes. He sniffled once and then proceeded to send the man a fierce, glittering glare through his tears.

“I didn’t deserve that,” said Dick hoarsely, his voice cracking from his tears. He wiped his face some more with his hand as he sniffled again. “I didn’t do anything wrong. This was unjust.”

Slade still looked completely shocked. His mouth was open slightly, obviously surprised that Dick was crying. Well, he wasn’t too thrilled over it either. He would’ve rather had endured the whole thing stoically, but his anger and emotions just wouldn’t allow it this time. He was not crying over the pain. That he could endure. What he couldn’t endure was the injustice of the whole thing.

And the fact that Slade didn’t need him any more.

“Dick…” managed Slade finally, his tone shattered with shock. Dick ran a hand over his eyes as he sniffled.

“Yeah, I’m crying,” said Dick bitterly. “Not because of the pain, though, you jerk. I didn’t deserved this!”

“Watch your mouth,” scolded Slade, finally finding his tongue.

“Why should I?” said Dick, his tone filled with pained injury. “I just wanted to help you. But you’re shoving it back into my face. I shouldn’t be punished for this. This was unfair!”

“You were extremely disrespectful and belligerent.”

“And you’re being domineering and unjust!” cried Dick. “This whole thing is just horrible. I’m fine with this – sort of – when you’re right, but this time you aren’t!”

“Dick,” began Slade, his face lifting incredulously. “You threw a tantrum. Like a two year old. That’s the only word I can describe it. A tantrum.”

“I did not!” cried Dick hotly. “You wouldn’t talk to me!”

Slade sighed deeply, running a hand over his face for a moment. He pulled the chair closer to Dick, so that their knees bumped together. Slade leaned closer to him as he firmly clasped the sides of Dick’s thighs.

“Dick, answer me this,” said Slade, his tone turning extremely serious. “Did you or did you not, shout disrespectfully at me and Will?”

“I—”

“Answer that question and that question only.”

“…yes…” growled Dick. Slade’s eyebrow rose and Dick added grudgingly, “…sir.”

“Did you or did you not, tell me – in effect – that you would not obey me?”

Dick folded his arms grumpily; staring down at his legs. No, this wasn’t fair at all. Slade was in the wrong – not him. Slade was being completely unreasonable and sneaky.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes… sir,” growled Dick again.

“So, you admit that you were disrespectful and disobedient?” asked Slade, both his eyebrows raised in question.

“Yes, sir…”

“What’s the punishment for being disrespectful and disobedient?” continued Slade. Dick closed his eyes. Why was it that Slade could always twist everything in his favor? He totally made it all sound as if Dick had been the one that had been out of line. But Slade was the one who wasn’t explaining anything and Dick deserved some answers.

Dick mumbled an incoherent answer; not wanting to say it out loud. But that wasn’t going to slide with Slade.

“A verbal answer, if you please. Look at me and answer the question,” said Slade. Dick sighed and opened his eyes as he looked up into Slade’s face. He tried very hard not to pout and blush as he worded the answer.

“A–a walloping.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” started Slade. “You were disrespectful and disobedient. Therefore, you received the punishment of a span—walloping.” Slade amended himself quickly at the flushing glare that Dick sent his way. “You’ve been dealt with fairly as per the rules that have been established. How is this unjust?”

Dick tightened his folded arms and huffed. “It just is, all right?”

“Dick…”

“You wouldn’t talk to me!” cried Dick, his chest heaving once. “You can’t just expect me to allow you not to tell me anything.”

“Dick, I am the adult and you are the child,” said Slade with a deep sigh. “You’re to obey me with or without explanation.”

Bitterness rose inside Dick’s heart. His chest constricted as his throat went completely dry. His eyes burned fiercely; hating that statement more than anything.

“Bruce said that.”

“What?”

The hurt and anger rose inside Dick’s chest as he wiped the moisture from his eyes, yet further moisture followed. He left his palms there to hide his eyes, trying to stop the relentless flow of tears and sobs that were determined to break through. He heaved his chest once in frustration.

It was that same terrible feeling again. The one of being left behind. His parents had left him behind. Bruce had left him behind and now even Slade was trying to leave him behind. What was wrong with him that people felt the need to leave him?!

His entire body shuddered as he took a deep breath. Oh, man; he needed to be alone right now. He didn’t want Slade to watch him lose it. He was about to lose it into a deep ocean of sobs – not good. Why did he have to be so emotional right now? Why did it feel like everything was crashing down around him? First Slade almost dying, then Slade acting like he didn’t need him, and now this.

Why couldn’t he just hold back these freaking tears already? Make them stop—make them stop!

Two hands clasped Dick’s shoulders. They slowly began to slip down his arms only to rise back up, over and over in a soothing motion. Dick’s breathing quickened for a moment in surprise by the soft gesture, but soon his breathing calmed. How was it that Slade could calm him down with such a soothing touch when he was the one who caused all this, Dick wasn’t sure. But he was, nonetheless, extremely thankful for it.

Because of it, the torrent of tears and sobs that had wanted to force through his barrier of strength began to weaken their resolve.

It was soon that Dick found his composure to look back up at Slade, sniffling somewhat and still rubbing the remnants of tears from his wet eyes.

“Dick,” began Slade, his hands now resting on Dick’s shoulders. “Tell me as concisely as you can – if you can – the reason why you’re so worked up. I know you wouldn’t act up over nothing. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Dick nodded in agreement and swallowed, trying to gain his voice that he knew would be cracked and choked from his tears.

“I–I just… I just don’t want to be left behind. I want to help. I wish you’d tell me what’s going on. You—you still need me, right?” Then, Dick softened his tone to a deep whisper. “Please, tell me you still need me.”

Slade looked momentarily shocked by this. His single visible eye blinked rapidly a few times. But then, he took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

“The mission is one of my own. I’m taking care of some leads to whoever led us into that trap last time,” said Slade, relating the information in a toneless, instructing voice. “I do not want you to come along because it’s going to be like last time – if I had known beforehand it was going to be a setup, I would not have brought you along for the ride.”

“But—”

“Your competence has nothing to do with it,” said Slade, firmly overriding Dick. “Merely your safety. That is all. Do not worry, boy; I still need you.”

Slade withdrew his hands from Dick’s shoulders and gave him a pat on the leg; standing up afterwards.

‘I still need you.’

Relief flowed through Dick at those words. His heart instantly softened in his calmness, every trembling that his body had been going through ceasing completely. The burning in his eyes faded away and the only discomfort he was currently experiencing was the remnant reminder of the outcome of his foolish outburst against the man.

He was still needed.

Then, his mind perked up as he caught hold on what else the man had let slip.

“I’ll be back by tonight or tomorrow morning, I’m sure. Stay out of trouble, please. I beg of you,” said Slade with a wry smirk. Dick only nodded, too overcome by three words that Slade had just said. The man barely made it to the door when Dick looked up and spoke.

“So, you were worried about me?”

Slade froze at the door. Dick watched as not a single muscle of the man’s body moved. The man was a complete rock at that moment; frozen in shock, no doubt. Then, he finally answered before fully leaving the room.

“I have no use for a dead apprentice.”

Dick smirked as the man left.

Can’t even admit it himself, now can he?

ooOOOOOoo

February 21st, 2009. Saturday, 6:00 pm.

Things were getting worse.

At least, that was what Cyborg’s opinion was. There was no end in sight and he knew he was starting to annoy the Dark Knight with his most recent two calls. But Batman always told him there was no major news on his end – which led Cyborg to believe that Batman was holding back smaller pieces of the information.

Cyborg just couldn’t understand it.

Why would the man hold back information? What if they had insights that Batman didn’t have? Sure, the man was the greatest detective in the world, but that didn’t mean the Teen Titans didn’t have things to offer to the pile. It just didn’t seem fair or, heck, even decent common courtesy.

Just wasn’t fair.

After their failure with their lead, the gloom that fell upon that Tower just got worse; intensifying to the greatest of clouds. Raven spent most of her time in her room, trying to meditate to control her emotions. Cyborg knew it was getting harder on her to do so. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she was greatly sensitive to her friends and the thought of Robin being kidnapped still was taking a terrible toll on the empath. There were times that she joined the group just for the sake of companionship, but most of the time she was holed up in her room.

Cyborg was honestly getting more worried about her.

Beast Boy seemed to have lost his life energy. It was far worse than during the first two weeks Robin had gone missing. Most of the time, Beast Boy was transformed into a small dog; curled up on the couch and whimpering at times.

Cyborg could only realize just how young the changeling was – being barely thirteen. Cyborg tried everything he could to cheer up his young friend. But it just wasn’t happening. Those emerald green eyes would always be filled with pain, worry, and loneliness. Cyborg was reminded just how vulnerable Beast Boy was. He knew a little about the kid’s past – his parents dying at a young age and being a member of the rigid Doom Patrol. But Cyborg was honestly at a loss to know what to do.

Not that he knew what to do for himself. Everything seemed to be falling apart around him. The sands of his sanity were slipping through the cracks in the fingers of his cupped hands. He just wasn’t sure what more to do. There was just no word. There was nothing. Slade had disappeared completely. They had never fought a single one of the man’s robots in all these six months.

Why did Slade take Robin in the first place? Was that perhaps his plan from the beginning with the Teen Titans? To take away their leader?

Would they ever get to see Robin again?

The amount of stress that was put upon Cyborg was definitely more than the average teen could handle. He had to consider himself lucky at times that he was half machine. He probably would’ve collapsed under the intense pressure he felt.

But the shining oddity in all this was Starfire.

Out of all four of them, she seemed to be at… peace.

Which was so strange to Cyborg.

He would’ve thought that she, out of all of them, would be the most affected by it all. She had been the closest to Robin – Cyborg even saw the potential of more growing between them. But she seemed so calm, so at peace by everything. She greeted everything with a smile. It was like nothing had happened.

It was like she acted as if Robin hadn’t ever left.

But Cyborg knew she wasn’t so callous to forget Robin. That was absurd. This was Starfire; the girl whose smile almost made flowers pop up out of the ground. She was the first to comfort; the first to hug; the first to smile; the first to praise; the first to be happy; the first to be empathetic to others’ pain.

Cyborg just couldn’t understand this oddity that had overcome Starfire.

It was in that moment of his thoughts that Starfire came up to him in the main room. He had been sitting at the computer, staring at some paperwork and willing it to write itself. But of course, it would never listen to him.

“Here, Cyborg,” said Starfire, handing him a plate. “I made you a sandwich that you may partake while you work.”

Cyborg accepted the plate. He looked up at Starfire. The girl was smiling softly at him; kindness glittering in her eyes.

“Thanks, Star,” said Cyborg in a murmur. “Um… Can I ask you something?”

“Anything at all.”

“What’s going on with you?” asked Cyborg, setting the plate aside.

“I do not understand what you mean,” said Starfire, tilting her head to the side.

“Why are you so happy?” asked Cyborg, trying not to sound as incredulous and confused as he felt. “You’ve been nothing but happy. I don’t get it. Aren’t you at all worried about Robin?”

Those monochromatic green eyes softened with a deep sadness, yet there was still a contrasting strength inside them. It was the most startling thing Cyborg had ever seen in her expression. There was sadness, yet there was such peace.

Such hope.

“I worry about Robin every single moment that passes by,” whispered Starfire. “But that does not mean I will be sorrowful. There is a peace inside my heart.”

“How can you have peace?” cried Cyborg. “I don’t get it. He could be hurt—beaten. He could—”

“Cyborg,” whispered Starfire, her voice ever so soft, but there was something so strong about it, that it caused Cyborg to stop his outburst. He stared into her eyes and wondered where she was getting her strength. Where had she found it?

And would she share it?

“Robin is all right, Cyborg,” continued Starfire in that soft whisper; resting her hand over Cyborg’s. The mere sounds of her voice seemed to wrap around Cyborg in a comforting way. “I cannot tell you any logical reasoning as to why I know this. All I can tell you is that there is a peace inside my heart that cannot be explained. I know Robin is all right. He is safe; he is well; and soon everything will turn out for the good.”

How?

How does she know that? Where’s the proof? Where’s the sign of hope in that?

Where did she get that peace?

“I… don’t understand,” said Cyborg, shaking his head once and drawing his eyes downward. He felt a hand touch his chin and slowly lift his head back upward. Starfire’s eyes were shining with tears.

“Even I do not understand,” said Starfire, her eyes glimmering once before a single tear slipped down her cheek. “All I understand is the peace that has settled in my heart. All I can ask is that you trust in this. I will give hope to Beast Boy and Raven as well. It is up to them to receive it.”

Starfire’s hand withdrew. She gave him a deep smile that was still filled with that peace – that knowledge from some source that Cyborg couldn’t understand; couldn’t see. She turned away from him and went to the couch where Beast Boy was curled up. Cyborg watched for a moment as Starfire lifted the small, whimpering puppy into her lap and began to stroke his fur; murmuring softly in a gentle undertone.

‘It is up to them to receive it…’

It’s up to me to receive it as well.

ooOOOOOoo

February 22nd, 2009. Sunday, 11:45 pm.

The chilled night air did nothing to cure Batman’s mood. It had been snowing far too much for Batman’s taste, but the heavy snowfall did make things a little quieter in Gotham. The past two nights had been quiet – far too quiet and it did nothing to improve his mood. He needed to beat somebody up and he needed to do so two weeks ago.

Meaning, it was far overdue.

He took deep calming breaths that just did not do their job right.

Commissioner Gordon had related an interesting tale to Batman. It irritated him so much that he was having trouble controlling himself. Gordon had told him that yesterday, near Chicago, there were two high profile men that had been murdered – a wealthy senator and a well known crime boss.

However, a blatant calling card had been left on both corpses. The fatal bullet was perfectly clean within each and both bodies had been left at the local police station.

And there was a message on a clean white card on each body: “Deathstroke pays his dues.”

Batman growled into the night as that thought flowed through his mind. He couldn’t believe the sheer audacity that Deathstroke had. Here the man had stolen away a child and he was going around offing well known people. What the devil did that mean? ‘Pays his dues’? Just who did Deathstroke think he was, anyway? How dare that man go about his business as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes Batman really wished he had never trained that kid. If he hadn’t, then none of this would’ve happened. He’d be a normal kid in high school, going out for some sports club or chess club, or something or other. Batman shouldn’t have given the kid private tutors. But he hadn’t known what else to do. That boy had devoured knowledge like it was candy to him. Dick would’ve been bored in normal high school.

There were so many regrets inside Batman’s chest. So many what ifs and so many should haves. He had been so confident, so cocky that he would find Dick quickly. It had only been a month since he had gone missing that Batman had felt that way – he had only imagined that he would find the kid quickly and make that monster pay.

How wrong he had been.

He was helpless – completely and thoroughly helpless. And Batman hated himself for it. Wasn’t he supposed to be a protector of innocents? He was pathetic if he couldn’t save that kid. He was responsible for him – but some guardian he was. He let the boy run off after their fight. He hadn’t gone after him.

No lamenting of the past and only looking towards the future?

What a joke that was! Batman had so many regrets, it wasn’t even funny. So many things he would do differently. So many things he would change. And the crowning feeling?

He couldn’t help but blame himself for all this.

There was no peace for him. There would be no peace until that kid was safe again. Batman couldn’t allow himself a moment’s rest. If he did, his mind would be clouded over with all the thoughts that wanted to drown him and suffocate him. No matter how much he hated to admit it, Batman was only human – a human who had no powers; a human who was powerless here.

He just couldn’t find rest for his soul.

Those words he had heard after the first clue from Commissioner Gordon had many times flooded into his mind once again; and hearing those trilling, lilting notes did sound vaguely familiar to him at times, but those words bore foolishness; bore weakness. He was a grown man; he knew reality when he saw it. ‘Never give up hope.’ What a morbid laugh that was. Hope wasn’t going to save that kid. Hope wasn’t going to bring Batman – or Bruce, for that matter – peace. There was only a twisting aching worry; pain, such pain within his heart.

There was no respite for him here.

ooOOOOOoo

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