Regressing For The Enemy

Chapter 14

    "Dinner consists of my famous slow roasted beef stew with potato rolls and green beans. Eat all of your green beans and you may get another roll. You must finish all of your bowl, that is the absolute minimum." Wintergreen sat him down like a rather rambunctious child. Obviously not appreciating this much, Dick merely bit his tongue to contain the wit bubbling up from his chest like the bubbles off a carbonated soda. "Yes, sir ." Sitting down, Dick was thankful to be seated the farthest from Slade. Even if it was something small, after the last threat in the training hall, being the farthest from his current captor helped to settle his lurching stomach. "Please, eat." The softer approach from Wintergreen seemed to settle Dick's mind, as he took a spoonful of the soup and began gently blowing on it. Lifting it to his lips, he peered at the older two gentleman who had already begun to eat. Silently drinking, Dick didn't even bother checking for the usual set of narcotics. After all, if he'd wanted to poison Dick, he would've and could've done it already. Shockingly, the soup itself was exceptional. The meat itself fell apart in his mouth, and the warm potato buns reminded him of Alfred's. Silently sipping the handcrafted soup in front of him, Dick's mind drifted to Alfred. The strong man who'd held him all the times Bruce couldn't. What he'd give to hear some of the man's advice as of now. 

Alfred POV

    Pacing back and forth between the set of Gothic style manor windows, Alfred tried to contain the nervous energy rummaging around in his stomach. Upstairs, Tim Drake could be heard getting ready for bed; Bruce's idea to keep the boy out of the whole messy affair. "We've looked everywhere. Robin cannot be found." A young woman in a purple cloak stood closest to the video feed with an orange teen standing just behind her, while a computerized young man held onto a young green boy in the back. "How did you find this communicator? I'm sure Robin can handle himself just fine. This radio signal is only supposed to be used by Robin, and Robin alone. And only under extreme emergencies." Alfred wanted to roll his eyes at that. Clearly, if the most powerful children of the millennia were coming to them, it was most certainly  an emergency. "We found the communicator in his room." Answered the young man in the back. "Please, mister batman. This is truly an important matter. Slade- er- Deathstroke- as I'm sure you know him- is one of the most powerful hitting men of the modern era." The orange woman said, her eyes watered over, in a puppydog like pleading motion. Despite himself, Alfred smiled at that. This must be the Starfire Dick always gushed to him about. "Star's right. This isn't any average criminal we're talking about. Slade has gone completely underground since the last time we saw Robin." The purple cloaked girl spoke again. "Hn." Bruce grumbled. It was silent for a moment, before Bruce spoke again. "I'll check it out. I appreciate you calling in for backup, but I work alone. When I find something, I'll call." And with that, Batman hung up on the group of Titans. 

    "Bruce Thomas Wane, please tell me you don't plan on sweeping something like this under the metaphorical rug." "Of course not, Alfred. But the titans would just get in the way of any investigation under way." "Their his friends , Bruce. They'd want to know what's going on." The sleep deprived man, rubbed at his eyes, pulling at the dark circles underneath. "Alfred, you know as well as I do, I work best without a group of rambunctious teens rolling about." "Bull. Shit." Bruce blinked a few times in surprise. "Alfred I-" "Master Bruce, you know good and well, the only time you truly take care of your own desperately destitute needs is when there is a spunky sidekick beside you." Bruce sighed, pushing the hair back from his face, before shooting a glance upstairs, where Tim awaited. "Alfred, you've always been honest with me, even as a child." "Yes, sir. I have." "Do you think I was too harsh with Dick?" Alfred felt his breath hitch in his throat. "After what happened with Jason, I didn't want another Robin. All I wanted was to keep Dick safe, the way I failed with Jay." Bruce put his head in his hands. "I wanted to keep him safe. And I fired him, Alfred. I fired him. I never expected him to run away to Jump City, but in the end he made his choice. Nothing I could possibly do would fix it." "You could have forced him to come home, sir. You know you could've." "And make him hate me more than he already did? No. It wouldn't have worked." "You needed time to heal, sir. You firing Dick, was the responsible thing to do at that time." "But then came along Tim." "And then came along Tim, sir." Bruce lifted his head and glanced towards the four suits encased in light. Jason's looked so tiny compared to Richard's and Drake's. Had he always been that small? "Do you think he'll ever forgive me, Alfred? Do you think he'll ever come home?" "If I must retain my reputation as an honest man, sir. I must say, I do not know, sir. I do not know."

Dick POV

   Finishing the remaining soup in his bowl, Dick paused, weighing his options in asking for seconds. Thankfully enough, Wintergreen took his bowl before he could contemplate it further. Having that decided, Dick pushed back from the table and made his way to stand. Awkwardly looking back and forth between the two older men before him, Dick shuffled in inconvenient limbo. Stuck between returning to the training area, retreating to 'his room', or staying put for clearer instructions. Finally finishing his meal, Slade stood, bringing his dishes to Wintergreen, who had made his way to the sink to wash Robin's empty bowl. "You needn't stand there for approval. In case you haven't gotten it through your head already, I'm not exactly the 'pat on the back' type." Face heating, Robin sputtered for a moment. "I- I'm not waiting for your approval, dickhead! I just don't know what you want me to do!" Then rubbing his fingers over his arm, Dick picked at the scabbed skin there. A trait Alfred always scorned him for. 

    In an instance, Wintergreen had made his way to Dick, taking his hand, placing a now cleaned dish in it. "Now, now. We'll have none of that, will we Slade." "Hn." Came Slade's response. "Here. Help me finish washing these dishes. That's something to keep you occupied for now." Despite his inner protest, Dick made his way to the large industrial sized sink and began scrubbing away at a plastic bowl Slade had used. Washing one plate and cup after another, Dick quickly found himself in a rhythm. Quickly finishing the last piece of plasticwear, Robin felt Slade's presence coming up from behind him. "You missed a bowl." Suddenly dropping a white plastic bowl into the soapy water, bubbles splashed onto Dick's face, giving him a bubble beard. Scowling, Dick turned around, and in a baritone voice, monologued "Oh look. I'm Slade. Time to take over the world, one hunk of scrap metal at a time." Much to Robin's shock and bewilderment, Slade actually chuckled at that. "You- You laughed at one of my quips. You never do that." Frowning, Slade adjusted his facial mask. "I didn't laugh at the idiotical joke. I laughed at the ridiculous soap 'stache on your face." Dick smirked. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that." 

    Clearing his throat, Slade furrowed his brows from behind the mask. "You may enter your bedroom. I will come in at exactly 10 pm sharp to enforce curfew." Dick raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, none the less. "I'm quite sure, you and your little teens have never considered such a concept, but we all must adapt to changes we find confining." Somehow, Slade just knew which buttons to press with Robin. "How the hell would we have a damn bedtime  with villains- namely you- interrupting our sleep cycle every thirty minutes?!" "Watch your language with me, boy." Letting out a gruff sigh, Dick didn't even seem to notice Wintergreen coming up from behind him. "You should listen, son." The words made Robin grit his teeth, but the soft grandfatherly tone in which the words were said, kept Dick from firing back with his usual fierceness. "I'm trying , but it's kind of difficult to be lenient with a man who seems to insult me as often as he eats and breathes." Wintergreen hummed, stroking his beard. "It is true, Slade. You could be kinder to the boy." Slade's eyebrows shot through the roof. "Pardon?" Wintergreen only smirked. "You heard me, mate." The older man placed a hand on Dick's shoulder. "You could spare a portion of the sass when it comes to the boy. Less you want to receive double what you dish." Slade barely concealed his audible scoff. "Enough, William." "William?" Dick piped up. "That's Mister Wintergreen to you, boy." Slade turned his head to address Dick before returning his attention to Wintergreen. "William Wintergreen." Robin mumbled the name under his breath. He'd have to remember that.