Into the Depths – Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen
Lasting Consequences

May 15th, 2009. Friday, 5:03 pm.

The way home was the most awkward and painful ride Dick had ever experienced.

The boat ride off the island took ten minutes. The car ride home was another fifteen – counting the traffic of the city. The boat ride had been the least painful, because he could keep his distance. But the ride in the car was horrible. He wished he had sat in the back seat. He could feel the silent anger just pouring off Slade in tremendous waves.

And who could blame him? The man had just found out his son had been lying to him this whole time. Dick felt horrible about it. Not only because he was receiving the man’s ire, but because he had broken Slade’s trust. Because of it, their family night had been ruined as well. Slade obviously wasn’t stopping for a movie. He had hoped that he could’ve explained himself. But he could feel that they were past that point. There was no explaining this. He shouldn’t have lied to his father in the first place, it was simple as that.

Now he was going to pay the price.

Dick kept his hands clasped in his lap, staring at them as they trembled there. Every once and awhile, he heard a low huffing exhale from Slade. During those times, Dick would worriedly glance over at the man to see his jaw clenching as he tried to breathe calmly. The man’s hands clenched the steering wheel with enough force to break the device, it seemed – but he never did. Dick would quickly avert his gaze, the guilty fear licking his insides like a growing flame.

He looked out the window, trying to clear his mind about the upcoming discussion that would have a lot of angry lecturing and an uncomfortable grand finale of his hide being roasted on the open flames from the palm of Slade’s iron coated – Dick swore to this fact – hand.

Slade turned down a darker alleyway, the one that Dick knew was the road to the warehouse of the haunt. They slowed as Slade pressed a button on the side of the steering wheel. A garage door opened and the car drove inside. He could see the other car that Wintergreen preferred to use. It was an older model. Dick’s throat was going drier by the second.

Just as the car parked, Slade turned off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt; the belt rapping against the wall as it snapped there.

“Get out of the car.”

Dick gulped at the stern command and hurried to comply with it. He heard the door slam shut just as his trembling fingers managed to undo the seatbelt. He untangled himself and opened the car door, growing more and more nervous by the second. Just as he stood and shut the car door, a heavy hand grabbed him by the back of his neck; making him jump slightly in surprise.

Without another word, Dick was forced to move forward by the pressure on his neck. From the garage, they entered the large area of the abandoned warehouse. With deft fingers, Slade entered the passcode, the electronic orange door shimmering in response. There was a clicking sound as the door slid open. Slade barely waited for the door to fully open before he pushed Dick forward in a long stride.

The systematic clinking of the gears didn’t sound so welcoming as they usually did when Dick came home. At that moment, they only seemed to reiterate how much trouble Dick was in; as if each clink were a single nail burying him deeper.

Dick was marched through the main room. He didn’t have long to think about the gears above. Slade nearly threw open the door to the kitchen, slamming it shut behind them as they entered. Wintergreen was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book when he saw them. Dick could see that the old man had prepared a few things for their fun dinner. There was a large pot on the stove and the air smelled faintly of cornbread. Dick’s chest tightened with emotion.

Wintergreen’s cornbread was one of his favorites.

“Welcome home, you two,” said Wintergreen with a warm smile, standing up. Dick closed his eyes and turned his face away, wanting to run away from that kind expression. He didn’t want the old man to know what he had done. He’d be just as disappointed in him as Slade was. One man’s trust broken was more than enough. “I didn’t expect you so soon…”

The old man faltered as he looked at them. He was about to open his mouth, when Slade pointed a sharp finger at him.

“Not—a word,” said Slade, his voice catching as he spoke. Dick swallowed, his throat becoming increasingly dry. He could literally feel the growing fury in that voice.

Then, without another word, Slade pushed him forward down the hallway; his hand never leaving Dick’s neck. The door of his bedroom was shut behind them with a sharp snap. Slade led him straight to the chair in the room, which he pulled out from the desk. Slade was silent as he stood Dick in front of himself with a dangerous squeeze at the arms – as if telling him without words that he had better not move – before sitting down into the desk chair; hitching up his pants slightly at the thighs. The man proceeded to unlatch the buttons at his wrists that obstructed his movement and rolled up his sleeves midway up his forearms.

Just as the man clasped him by the arms once more, no doubt to bend him over his lap, Dick pulled back in weak protest; shaking his head nervously.

“Dad, don’t… please…” murmured Dick, still shaking his head. Slade’s hands tightened dangerously on his arms, shaking him once as the man’s restrained anger started to slip from its control.

“No,” hissed Slade, shaking him roughly once more. “No, you will not fight me on this. You earned this. You very well earned this a thousand times over! You lied to me. How could you?!”

Dick’s lips trembled as he looked down at the man’s knees. Slade was wearing his usual black slacks. All he could think about was the fact that he would be going over them any moment now.

“Look at me—blast it!” snapped Slade, shaking him again; forcing Dick’s head to jerk back to look at the man. Slade inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring furiously. His tone rose with every ranting word. “I told you before that you would greatly regret lying to me. I expected you to tell me the truth. After I was lenient with you, I expected you to be forthcoming with me. How dare—”

The fury reached its peak in Slade’s expression. The man broke off his speech, making a visible effort to stop the anger that was emanating from his very soul. Slade’s chest heaved as he took deep breaths, letting out each one slowly. It’d been a very long time since Dick had seen the man this livid. It was downright chilling to see him so furious.

“I have to calm down,” said Slade finally, his whole upper body heaving once. He stood abruptly. The man’s chest came into view, the button down white collared shirt taking over Dick’s line of vision. He was instantly reminded of how short he was. He was already feeling small and horrible at that moment, but having the visible reminder that he was still only a child made everything feel so much worse.

“W–what? Why?” asked Dick softly, staring at the immaculate shirt in front of him; unable to look up at his father. Then, he noticed the man turn away, putting his hands onto his hips. He watched the broad back that filled his vision, his insides twisting inside his heart. Then, Slade turned around and pointed at Dick with a furious expression.

“Because if I don’t, you’ll be one sorry little boy—” Dick winced at the mortifying term. “—not that you won’t be once I’m through with you…” said Slade, his grey blue eye flashing with his fury; but he trailed off at the end. His eye closed as he tried to take another calming breath. “But… I might end up hurting you,” he whispered, as he stared up at the ceiling. Dick held back the thought that was saying he was going to get ‘hurt’ anyway, one way or another. What did Slade being calm have anything to do with it?

But his question was answered almost immediately.

“Punishing you when I’m this angry does neither of us any good. Nor does it teach you anything,” continued Slade, his voice low and quiet. Dick bit his lower lip, feeling his eyes burn. The man placed his hands back onto his hips, still looking up at the ceiling. After another moment, the man’s voice spoke again, “This isn’t working.”

Dick’s head bolted up, his mind immediately thinking up all the horrible, insecure possibilities of what that could mean. However, he didn’t have much time to think about it, because the man’s hand once again clamped down on the back of his neck, forcing him to turn around. He was pushed towards the wall and a hand lifted to his head, forcing it downward into the section where the two walls met.

“Stand there until I say so.”

The realization of just how much he had pushed the man to his very edge was beginning to settle on Dick’s mind. He hadn’t been in this position since the time he had tested the man’s trust. That time, it had been embarrassing and humiliating to have to stand in the corner like a naughty child. Yet, here he was again, forced to look at the joined walls, their painted surface mocking him once more in the fact that he had certainly messed up big this time.

Still, Dick attempted to peek back at the man, trying to gauge just how angry Slade was – it made him feel nervous not being able to look at the man when he wanted. Dick saw him move towards the closed door. His vision was obstructed as Slade opened it, making him wonder if he was going to be left in his room to stand in the corner for an indefinite amount of time.

Instead, Dick heard the man shout.

“Will!”

Dick gulped, wondering what was going on now.

“Will!”

“I can hear you, Slade,” came the old man’s amused voice. “I’m not deaf, you know. What is it?”

There was another audible exhale of breath.

“Will, could you bring me… two cups of hot chocolate? Please?”

“Two?” Slade must’ve nodded to that, because a moment later, Wintergreen continued, his tone sounding even more amused, “Very well. Would you like marshmallows with them?

“No,” snapped Slade, his voice jumping up in volume. There was a pause. Then, his voice softened, “No… No, thank you. Just the hot chocolate, if you please.”

There was a moment where Slade stood there, until he shut the door. Dick glanced back at the man. Slade appeared as if he were still trying to control himself. Dick’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Dad, why—”

“Dick, I don’t think you understand the severity of your current situation,” said Slade, his voice wavering in his smoldering anger. “You would be wise to be silent for now. The amount of trouble you are currently in is astronomical.”

Dick’s mouth clamped shut at that.

“You cannot believe how much my mind is trying to process all this,” continued Slade, his voice calm as he spoke; however, the irritation was still bubbling beneath the surface. “The level of confusion is debilitating. Trying to separate my own feelings on this matter from the cause and effect of your infraction is next to impossible. The urge to throttle you is very high.”

It was the most painful moment in Dick’s life – he swore to it. He heard the man begin to wear out a section of his carpeting. For a few moments, all he could hear were the soft footsteps of his father.

“And through it all, I wonder if I’m missing something,” whispered Slade. His pacing slowed. “Why would you hide your nightmares from me? What is the reasoning behind that? Then, my mind goes back to over two weeks ago, when I asked you about it. You only told me part of your nightmare, didn’t you? There’s more, isn’t there? That’s why the nightmares haven’t stopped, because you weren’t fully honest with me then. Am I correct?”

There was a pause.

“Well?! Answer me when I ask you a question!”

“Y–yes, sir.”

“So, when I asked you if you had remembered it all, you pointblank lied to my face. Am I getting this correct or am I just making this up?”

“No, sir,” whispered Dick. “You’re correct.”

“So, when I later asked you if the nightmares were gone, you decided it best to lie about that, too. You didn’t want to be caught in the first lie. Have I got that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” whispered Dick again, hating himself. The burning inside his eyes was becoming overwhelming; the hurt building inside his eyes just as much as it was building inside his chest.

“It makes me wonder about anything else you’ve told me,” continued Slade, his tone beginning to rise; his voice flowing faster. “How am I supposed to trust anything you’ve said now? What am I supposed to believe, huh?!”

At that, tears were sliding down Dick’s face, those words more painful than a simple clout on the backside.

“Why did you do it? Why did you lie to me?”

Dick swallowed, his dry throat stopping him from opening his mouth.

“Answer me!”

His mouth cracked open and he croaked, “I don’t know. I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?” said Slade, his voice heavy with furious incredulity. “Well, you better figure it out or you’ll be standing there all night long! We will not move from this room until we get some things straight, even if we have to stay here all week. And so help me, Dick, if you do not start spilling your guts about this, I will wallop your backside every night this week that you’re grounded. Start talking.”

“I don’t know!” cried Dick, his breathing hitching. He roughly wiped away his tears with the palm of his hand. “I don’t know why I lied. I knew I should’ve told you. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just couldn’t.”

“Don’t you realize that’s worse!” shouted Slade, the hysterical desperation seeping through his tone. “You knew you were lying and you still did it anyway?!”

“Y–yes, sir.”

“And why did I have to find out from her?!” demanded Slade, his voice rising even more; the feeling of betrayal bleeding through his tone. “You’ll tell her, but not me? What am I to you?”

“M–my father,” choked Dick, his lips trembling so much he could no longer control them. “You’re my father.”

“Really?” drawled Slade derisively, his incredulity dripping venomously. “Because it sure doesn’t seem like it, especially if you’ll go to a friend instead of your father with a subject that is as serious as your health!”

“It just sort of happened!” cried Dick. “I hadn’t meant to tell her.”

“It… just… sort of happened?” repeated Slade, slowly drawing out each word; his voice still heavy with derision. “Really? I certainly wished you ‘sort of happened’ to tell me about this sooner, then! How do you think it made me feel, hm?! Learning that you’re still having nightmares every night and that you confided in her, not me. You told me you weren’t. You flat out lied to me! To my very face!”

Dick could audibly hear the man’s breathing as he tried to control his fury. Every few moments, there would be a deep huff of air. Then, Dick heard the man walk and plop down into the desk chair. Dick peeked backwards to see the man hunched over the desk, his elbows leaning against the surface as he rested his head into his hands. In that moment, Dick could see how torn the man looked. His fingers were digging into his white curls of hair; his head shaking slightly.

Dick looked back at the corner, resting his forehead against the wall. He had done that. He had caused such pain for his father. It was ever so noticeable in Slade’s body language. Knowing that, seeing that, tore apart Dick’s heart; making him hate himself for his foolish actions. He had been so caught up in the worry about revealing his nightmare to Slade that he never considered what the actual lying would do to the man.

He had caused such pain for Slade – that knowledge was enough to destroy Dick.

A knock at the door flooded into the room. The door opened a moment later. Dick sneaked another glance back, seeing that Wintergreen was standing near Slade. The man lifted his head from the desk and accepted the proffered mug.

“Where is Richard?” asked Wintergreen. Dick sucked in his breath, whipping his head back to the corner, not before he saw Slade lift a hand to his position. Dick’s cheeks prickled hotly with embarrassment at being in this position.

“There,” said Slade flatly.

“Oh, dear. I see… Is everything all right?”

“Oh, we’ll get there, I’m sure. But the journey will be a bumpy one and a painful one – for the both of us.”

Dick winced. He risked another glance back. Slade was leaning with one elbow against the desk, his face resting in his hand again. His other hand held onto the mug of hot chocolate that Wintergreen had provided. The old man placed a hand onto Slade’s shoulder. There was a slight stiffening, before Dick watched the man slowly relax from the touch.

“Don’t be too harsh with the boy,” whispered Wintergreen, giving Slade another pat. Dick felt his cheeks burn even more. He turned his gaze back to the wall; his hands clenching at his sides. There was the soft sound of footsteps, until he heard the old man’s voice from behind, “Richard, turn around please.”

A wave of horror washed over Dick in a flood of emotion. He slowly turned around, keeping his head ducked down, so he wouldn’t have to look up into those kind, aged hazel green eyes. His hands clasped the edges of his shirt as they clenched into fists.

“Look at me, Richard.”

Dick slowly complied with the request, his hands moving upward to curl around his chest. His gaze wavered twice as he tried to look up at the old man, catching eye contact twice before he finally rested his sight there. Wintergreen was giving him a soft smile. Dick clenched his jaw to avoid from crying. That sympathetic look was enough to send anyone into deep, repenting tears.

Wintergreen reached out and placed a comforting hand onto Dick’s forearm.

“Good luck, child.”

Dick swallowed once before giving Wintergreen a jerky nod. With that ever caring expression still prevalent through the old man’s wrinkled features, he clasped Dick’s hand gently. He turned the palm upward and placed the mug there. A tear slipped down Dick’s cheek, a lump growing inside his throat. With his spare hand, he roughly wiped it away. He gave the old man a weak smile before looking back down at the hot chocolate in his hand.

Three large, startlingly white, and slightly melted marshmallows were floating in the dark liquid.

Without another word, Wintergreen slipped out of the room; the door shutting closed softly.

Dick sniffled, almost becoming undone by this simple act of love and kindness from the old man that had become a surrogate grandfather to him. He took a sip of the warm liquid. It was sweet, but in the end, Dick couldn’t taste it. He continued to drink, however; enjoying the warmth that was filling his insides. As he drank, he glanced over at Slade, who hadn’t touched his yet. After a few moments of resting his face in his hand, Slade picked up his mug. He stopped once he saw inside.

“Sentimental old fool,” murmured Slade, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. Dick didn’t say anything, just standing at his spot and taking deep drinks of the hot chocolate. It was helping his dry throat immensely. At the end of his drink, he swallowed down the three marshmallows; their sugary flavor being the only thing his taste buds identified.

There was a moment of silence where Dick just stood there, his back to the wall, as he clasped the warm mug with both hands. He continued to give Slade sneaking glances, still trying to gauge how much anger Slade was still experiencing. The man was slowly sipping his hot chocolate, never looking over at Dick at his spot in the corner. Finally, as the man set the mug onto the desk surface, he spoke up.

“Go change into your pajamas,” instructed Slade, his voice low, yet powerful; still not looking at Dick. “I want you ready for bed.”

“What, but why? It’s early and—”

“Now!”

Dick jumped, startled by the sudden change in the man’s tone. Slade was still furious, it seemed. Dick went to his dresser and quickly pulled out a pair of pajamas. He clutched them to his chest briefly, before going into the bathroom to change. He shut the door, wishing he could lock himself forever in the bathroom. But that was pretty childish, even though he felt like a small kid at that moment. He set the mug onto the countertop. He plopped down onto the closed seat of the toilet and dropped his face into his hands.

All the pent up emotion that had been building up inside Dick’s chest felt like exploding at that moment. The weight of what he had done was bearing down on him with a strength like no other. He had lied to his father – not once, but twice. The man no longer trusted his word.

At that thought, Dick felt like sobbing. The guilt wanted to pour forth from his soul through his eyes. He truly felt repentant for his actions. It was a horrible feeling, these negative emotions. They were so bitter and so harsh as they grew in their presence. They threatened to overwhelm, threatened to swallow him whole in their strength and power over his body and soul. He never thought he’d feel this bad.

This was worse than the time he had tested the man’s trust. That time had been one of the few where Dick had been deliberately disobedient. But he’d had a purpose in it all. The payoff for that foolish action had overshadowed the man’s disappointment and sharp reproof. He had solidified his trust in the man and at that time, it had meant the world to Dick.

But this was different. There was no real purpose behind lying to the man. He had only been hiding. He had been afraid. He had slipped so easily into the lie. Fate had even given him a second chance to clear the air, but he had casted it aside, knowing full well what that meant.

The price he was paying for his foolishness was more than the man’s ire, distrust, and soon to be sharp punishment; no, more than that was the unrelenting guilt that bore down on Dick’s heart. It clenched his very muscle within his chest, twisting it painfully with a hand of iron.

There was no escaping from the punishment his own body was giving to himself.

For another moment, Dick sat there, trying to compose himself. Finally, he stood up and shed his clothes; tossing them into the hamper there. He slowly put on his pajama pants and shirt. The fabric was soft, gentle, and light; perfect for sleeping in. However, it made him feel vulnerable, too – as if he were a naughty child about to be put to bed.

Well, unfortunately the fact of life was this was all too correct.

He opened the bathroom door and slowly stepped into the room.

“I’ve changed,” said Dick, his voice meek and soft. From his position in the chair, Slade pointed towards the joining walls.

“Return to your corner.”

If Slade had said ‘the’ corner, Dick might’ve retained what failing dignity he had left. But at the pronouncement of ‘your’ corner, the mortification of it all overflowed his senses. With intensely heated cheeks, he went to his spot in the corner.

As he stood there, he wasn’t sure how much time had slipped by, but as it did, he was sure that a lot had passed. Soon, his legs were becoming stiff from standing for such a period. How long would Slade require him to stand there, he didn’t know. Occasionally, he’d lift his legs and shake them, trying to get some blood movement back in them. The whole time he stood there, all he could think about was that he had broken the trust of his father.

It was like Red X all over again.

He hadn’t told his friends his plans at that time. Thus, he had made a huge mistake. That was old history. But why was his history repeating itself yet again? Here he had withheld information, just as he had with his friends. However, at the time of the Red X mistake, there had been no one to reprove him sharply. There had been no one to correct him. The hurtful voices of his friends were not enough.

Here, there was someone who saw the mistake and would correct it, whether he liked it or not. That was what it meant to have a parent.

He hadn’t learned anything. How many times would he have this lesson before it truly sunk deep into his mind? His old habit of only relying on himself seemed embedded into his soul. He had been too afraid to let Slade know about the darkest part of his nightmare. By lying about that, it had led to another lie to cover up the first.

Then, once again, he had slipped into that old habit – one which he knew he needed to break fully.

He was faced with those all too familiar phrases that he had asked himself that night he had brooded on his mistake of Red X, except with a new face attached to them.

Because of his stupidity, he had damaged the trust of his father.

How long would it be before he could regain his Slade’s trust?

What if he couldn’t rebuild what he had destroyed?

Could he really piece together the shattered shards of the man’s trust?

This time, however, he wouldn’t allow anything to stop him from making amends. He couldn’t go months or weeks, or even days, without his father’s trust. Such a thing would tear his soul apart. He needed Slade in his life. He needed this man so much. He’d been so stupid. What was the point of having Slade in his life if he didn’t turn to him? Had he not asked himself this two weeks ago? Was it really all that difficult of a concept to understand?

Finally, after what seemed like an hour in that horrible corner, Slade’s quiet voice pulled Dick out of his racing thoughts.

“Turn around, Dick.”

With a nervous swallow, Dick obeyed. The wait was over. The consequence of his lying was about to be administered – and it wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience whatsoever.

“We are going to establish a few things,” said Slade, standing and taking a step forward. The man started pacing a small path on the carpet. He paused every time he directed a question at Dick. “Verbal answers are required during this. First, when I asked you, two weeks ago, if you remembered anything more about your nightmare, you told me no. This was your first lie to me during this, correct?”

Dick nodded meekly. “Yes, sir.”

“Next, when I asked you a few days later if you were still having nightmares, you told me that you weren’t. This was your second lie to me, correct?”

There was a sniffle and a rough palm wiped away a stray tear. “Yes, sir.”

“You knew both times that you were lying to me, correct? You knew this and yet continued forward with them, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You have been warned about lying to me and specifically on this topic. Your lying is unacceptable behavior. You trying to cover up something that is dangerous to your health is also unacceptable. You were warned about this beforehand. Were you aware of these facts when you made your choices?”

Dick swallowed. It took him a full minute to voice his condemnation. Slade merely watched him for the full sixty seconds, patiently waiting for the answer they both knew was to come.

“Yes, sir,” whispered Dick with a nod, looking down at the floor. There was a long pause, before Slade let out a long exhale of breath.

“Very well, I believe we’ve exhausted this part of the conversation. Time for some consequences for your poor choices,” said Slade, his sharp tone turning even more stern. He stopped his pacing and sat down on the desk chair. He hitched his pants up slightly, before squaring his shoulders and giving Dick such a firm look that it made his stomach flop uncomfortably. The man lifted a single finger and motioned towards himself, his tone ever ominous, “Come to me.”

Dick swallowed nervously, but the look in Slade’s face told him that there was no escaping this. It’d been over a month – around six weeks – since he found himself in this situation, the last time being when he left to go into outer space in a rocket ship for three days without telling Slade. Now he was faced with all those same feelings; the worry, the guilt, the shame, the apprehension, and the mortification.

He took a step towards the man. That step alone was far too painful for him. He hesitated, curling his arms around his chest and hunching over slightly as he gave the man a pleading look; hoping beyond all hope that there was some freakishly insane chance that Slade wouldn’t resort to this type of punishment. But the dark light in Slade’s eye was flashing dangerously.

“Do not dare trifle with me, Dick,” said Slade, his tone filled with his no nonsense ring. “This is the consequence. You knew it beforehand and you still continued with your choice. You chose this yourself.”

Dick wanted to protest, but he knew the man was right. He walked forward slowly and with shuffling steps. He knew he was pushing his luck by going so slow – he could see the impatience in Slade’s eye. But he couldn’t help it. He was barely two feet away when Slade’s arm reached out and grabbed him by the wrist; sharply tugging him forward and depositing him suddenly over the man’s waiting knees.

There was no pause, nor hesitation on Slade’s part. Dick let out a small gasp of surprise when the first swat met his seat. He hadn’t had any time to prepare himself for the onslaught that raged against his backside. He quickly had to grab onto the black slacks of Slade’s pants and a leg of the chair to steady himself. He wanted to curse over the fact that Slade had made him change into his pajamas. His jeans would’ve buffered the strikes better. The thin cloth wasn’t doing much to protect him from the sharp, stinging pain that now already flooded through the targeted area.

His mind was in a flurry of conflict. However, whenever he tried to grasp onto a single thought, it was slapped away – the signal coming straight from his fiery seat. He both hated this and accepted it. He knew Slade’s position on lying, disobedience, and disrespect. He knew it. He had known it when he spoke the lie. And yet, he had done it anyway; knowing full well what would happen once Slade found out.

It didn’t matter that he felt that this was too childish for him. It didn’t matter that he was fifteen. He deserved this. Slade was right, after all. He usually was. Dick was still making stupid choices about his life. That alone proved that he wasn’t anything more than a naughty child who had done something very stupid. It was Slade’s choice on how to correct the behavior. He was in charge. His word was law.

And Dick accepted that law.

He accepted it without argument. With the love, came the discipline; with the hugs, came the sharp reproofs; with the comfort, came the chastisement; with the care and kindness, came the firmness and strictness – all opposites, all required, all needed, all wanted.

And even though it didn’t always feel fair, Dick knew it was fair. Sometimes, it wasn’t always pleasant, as it currently most certainly wasn’t. He would just have to suck it up and take this punishment like a man. He would remain strong during this.

Or, at least, that had been the plan.

That is, until Slade did something he had never done before while doling out this unpleasantness: he started lecturing.

“You promised that you would never lie to me,” started Slade. “You broke that promise. You lied. Do you truly understand the enormity of this?” When there was no answer, a stern voice, coupled with a sharp reproof came, “Verbal answers.”

“Y–yes, s–sir,” gasped Dick, finding it very hard to speak during this. “I just–just didn’t think—I didn’t want anyone to know about the nightmares.”

It was nigh impossible to think of coherent sentences to give to the man in his current position, let alone speak them. The embarrassment of his position had long faded to simply trying to survive the moment. He wanted to get through this without crying. But with every piercing word, the damage to his sensitive heart was becoming vast. Forget the sting – Slade’s words hurt far more than any swat to his seat. There were already tears forming at his eyes and as the man spoke, they began to fall; soaking into the soft carpet below.

“You’ve not been taking this subject seriously,” scolded Slade, pausing for a brief moment. “I thought you understood that holding information back that could be detrimental to your health was a lie. You boldly told a lie to my face, but on top of it all, you held back information that I could use to help you. You told Starfire, whether you meant to or not. This is unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry,” choked Dick.

“That doesn’t change anything!” snapped Slade, his hand sharply connecting once more; making Dick yelp and jump in surprise. “Even after saying you’re sorry, you are still in this unfortunate position and I still have been lied to – saying ‘sorry’ doesn’t change a blasted thing!”

“I know.”

“Do you? Do you really?” growled Slade, the man’s hand not pausing in its barrage now. The tirade continued effortlessly, “You don’t realize the magnitude that this is causing to your health. Or maybe you do, and you still chose to lie and ignore it. Don’t think I’ve not noticed. The bags underneath your eyes have become near bruises now. Your appetite has been waning. You’re becoming sicker by the day, aren’t you? What am I to do with you? How can I trust you now?!”

The man’s words were like knives to Dick’s tender heart. They were sharper and far more piercing than the actual spanking itself. Their power was unprecedented. They tore through his heart with a vengeance, causing the dam of his emotions to break through; the river pouring through past all the barriers that Dick had built for himself.

His left arm became a buffer; releasing it from its hold on the leg of the chair. He dropped his head into the crook of his elbow, feeling the hot tears gather against his skin. His other hand continued to hold onto the fabric of Slade’s pants; his fingers clenched tightly there. His sobs were quiet, but slowly increasing in their strength. He had messed up so bad. He just wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted to go back to that point where he had gotten a second chance to clear the air. He should’ve told Slade about the rest of the nightmare. He should’ve told Slade about his continual haunted nights. He shouldn’t have lied about it.

But for this moment, it was too late for all that. He couldn’t go back to fix his mistake. All he could do now was be repentant and try to rebuild the shattered trust he had destroyed.

“I’m sorry,” sobbed Dick inside his arm, his voice barely rising above a murmur. “I won’t lie again. I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make you believe me!”

“Oh, yes, believe me, I will hold you to that promise,” said Slade sharply, his onslaught still never ending. When was it going to end? “If this ever happens again, you can be rest assured that this part will always occur. I don’t care if you’re fifteen or twenty-five or – blast it – fifty-five, you are not to lie to me ever again!”

Dick could only nod and murmur out – though, they came out more like blubbers – further apologies. He barely noticed that, soon after, the raging barrage of slaps to his seat had ceased suddenly. A hand rested against his back, patting lightly. A few moments passed as Dick continued to nearly weep into his arm, his warm tears soaking into his skin. It was soft, but he couldn’t stop no matter how much he tried. His heart hurt too much. He simply felt awful about his actions.

“We are done here,” whispered Slade. “You may get up.

Dick’s chest was heaving, his gasping sobs shuddering his entire body. Every muscle in his body felt fragile. He hated himself for being so weak over something as little as a spanking – even though it didn’t feel so ‘little’ since there was currently a fiery, blazing sting that wasn’t fading quite yet from his seat. But he knew it wasn’t that which caused the tears. It was only the final push over the edge. It had truly been all of Slade’s words that were bringing his tears. He felt horrible about lying. He felt horrible about breaking the man’s trust in him. Even now, he still wasn’t sure why he did it. He hadn’t meant to lie. They had just formed and flowed so easily – far too easily.

Before he had known it, he’d been caught in the web with no hope of escaping until the web burned down at Slade’s knowledge of his lies.

Strong hands slipped beneath his armpits and gently lifted him to stand. Dick lifted his right arm to his face, hiding it into the crook of his elbow again. His shoulders jerked with his shuddering breaths. He didn’t want to be seen crying like this. But there was nowhere to hide here. His other arm snaked upward to curled around his wrist, his hand intertwining with his other hand to rest on his shoulder. He hiccupped once, much to his horror.

“I am so disappointed in you,” whispered Slade, causing Dick’s heart to nearly fail. He tried to hold back the sob that broke through his lips, but it came anyway, small and choked. He felt a hand curl around the small of his back. It stayed there, bringing with it a warmth like no other. “You’re a very good boy and—”

“No, I’m not,” croaked Dick, nearly choking on himself. “I’m not, I’m—”

“Shh,” said Slade, firmly overriding him. “You are wrong. You are very good. One mistake doesn’t make you bad. You’re the one who taught me that, were you not? By accepting me and all my past mistakes, you showed me that one can rise above it all and perhaps even be forgiven. Are you not able to do the same for yourself?”

Dick dropped his arms suddenly, his wet eyes widening. A soft expression came over Slade. Once again, Dick found himself pulled onto that very strong lap. But this time, he was sitting on it, his legs dangling over the side. His fiery, stinging seat protested against being placed on such a firm surface, but those arms that wrapped around his waist were more than enough for Dick to not mind it so much. He rested his head against the man’s chest near his shoulder.

“You told a lie,” said Slade, making Dick feel sick yet again. But the man’s voice was soft and tender, nothing like the fury that he had shown moments ago. “Two, in fact, as lies usually lead to another – and I am thoroughly disappointed about that. But you’re still a very good boy; one of the best I’ve seen. Usually, you have good intentions when you make a mistake of this level.”

Another tear slipped down Dick’s cheek. He buried his face into the hard chest that was provided for him; rubbing his flushed skin against the firm texture of the man’s shirt. Warm arms around wrapped themselves around his upper body, drawing him closer into the firm embrace. Dick felt the man’s head rest on top of his own. His breathing slowed, only occasionally shuddering as he breathed inward. His heart was being calmed now because the man had pulled him into the hug. Did that mean he was forgiven? Did that mean everything could be repaired? Did that mean Dick had a second chance to rebuild the man’s trust in him?

“You’re starting to frighten me, Dick,” murmured Slade. He could feel the man’s jaw lifting on top of his head as he spoke. “Your unconcerned ways with your health are dangerous. Your nightmares are still continuing and it’s greatly affecting your health. How am I supposed to help you, protect you, if I don’t know something’s wrong? Lying about it doesn’t do anyone any good, least of all you.”

Dick swallowed once, feeling the pressure of his tears building up again within his eyes. Was this man never done with his smarting words?

“You should be thankful to Starfire for speaking up – even if it did get you into trouble faster – because she might’ve helped save you from yourself. Understand that, no matter what, I’ll always find out if you’re lying to me. There’s no hiding it from me. The longer you’ve gone lying, the more furious I will be with you and the more trouble you’ll find yourself entrenched in. I’ll nip this lying in the bud immediately and every time.”

There was a sharp sigh, the vibrations flowing over Dick’s body.

“I just don’t understand your actions. You still haven’t explained fully why you lied to me. What am I supposed to do for you? I don’t understand why this is something to lie about. Does spanking you remind you not to lie again? Will you remember this unpleasantness the next time your tongue and mind wishes to lie to me? Will you truly remember?”

The man’s head ducked slightly against Dick, his strong arms tightening around his small body. The next whisper that slipped into the air was ever so soft and tender, almost as if it hadn’t meant to be released.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

A deep, twisting pain shook Dick’s heart. He quickly turned in his seat, ignoring the sting that flared up from his movement, and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. He shook his head, trying to open his mouth to voice his feelings, but somehow they were locked inside his throat. For a moment, all he could do was shake his head, until the words finally choked out.

“No,” whispered Dick. “I’m sorry. My fault—all my fault. I’m sorry, please forgive me. I’ll remember. I promise.”

“Shh, you are forgiven, Dick,” said Slade softly, his voice caringly gentle. “I truly hope you’ll keep to your word.” There was instant nodding to this. “Because… my heart can’t handle it. Please don’t put me through this again. Please.”

An intake of breath came over Dick. He nodded again.

“I don’t like doing this to you. Not one bit,” whispered Slade, emotion flowing through his tone. His voice was mixed with his instructing tone, but in there was the tenderness of a loving father. “But I will do so again and again, so you might understand. The consequence of a smarting backside will not last. But the consequences that will occur from poor choices may be irreversible and everlasting with their mark on your life. I am the perfect example of such things. My sins have born a terrible consequence that I can never restore. I can never bring back Grant. I can never fix Joey’s voice. I can never restore the lost time I could’ve had with my family. And yet, I have you now. You are a blessing upon my life. Thus, for you, better to have fading consequences now, rather than ones that’ll cause you endless grief for a lifetime.”

There was a harsh chuckle, a self deprecating tone entering there.

“That is a parent’s prerogative: to teach and train their children, so that they don’t make the same mistakes that they have already committed. Learn from my mistakes, Dick.”

Dick nodded, tears falling down his cheeks again. He knew that Slade regretted his choices concerning his previous family. In part, some of them were not permanent, as Rose and Joey were due to visit near the end of June. There was still a chance to reconnect. But Grant could never come back from the Veil. His snuffed life could not be restored. Dick tightened his arms around the man’s neck, feeling Slade do the same around his waist. He felt Slade’s face drop into his neck, a hoarse, duplicate plea entering his ear in a terrible, soft whisper.

“Learn from my mistakes, Dick.”

In the which, within that warm embrace, Dick silently vowed to do just that.

ooOOOOOoo

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