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Dick smiled softly as he fiddled with the gloves of his suit while the little boy beside him talked animatedly about the exploits of Batman and Robin in the weeks since Dick had last been home. It still stung to see someone else in his colors, called by his name, but he couldn’t help but be charmed by the kid. As much as he questioned his place here, Jason was his brother even when he wasn’t certain where exactly he stood with Bruce. Truthfully, Jason was the main reason he came back to Gotham at all anymore. He may not have handled things well when he first heard about the newest addition to the family, but the kid didn’t deserve to be put in the middle of his issues with his former guardian.
As much as he complained to his friends about these “family nights”, when he wasn’t fighting with Bruce it was actually kind of nice. He would still rather run off with the kid to his apartment and stay up way too late with pizza and bad TV, but sometimes he could talk himself into trying to play happy family for this kid that had never really had that at all. The pieces he had put together of his brother’s past made his heart ache. Before murder and trauma and suits and supervillains, Dick’s life with his parents had been amazing and he treasured those memories. It didn’t sound like Jason had ever had much good before, and Dick was determined to fit in as much good for him as their lives would allow now.
His mind had been wandering a little, wondering if Bruce’s delay in arriving for patrol would be a bad sign for how the night would go, but he suddenly snapped back to attention as he heard something that made him feel like a bucket of ice water had just been dumped over his head.
“- and B said that Deathstroke usually stays away from Gotham, so it was really important that we investigate why he was here and -” the boy was saying, all big innocent eyes and suddenly seeming way, way too small.
“No!” Dick choked out, “No, you, Little Wing, you can’t go near him,” he managed to say, panic clawing up his throat at the thought of that man even looking at his tiny baby brother, in Dick’s colors, using Dick’s name. This was a whole different reason to hate Bruce for giving Robin to someone else.
The little boy cocked his head, confusion clear on his face. “B said he was a hitman. An assassin. A real good one, but he didn’t… he didn’t really sound more dangerous than anyone else I fight,” he said as he carefully watched the older boy.
“He’s - he’s different Jay. I can’t…I can’t believe he let you near Slade,” he said, blowing a breath out as he ran a hand over his face. He had to calm down. Memories that he’d spent the last four years trying his hardest to forget were slamming back into him. That monster being near his brother would probably be what he saw when he was exposed to fear toxin, maybe for the rest of his life.
Jason started to step closer, before looking around the cave as if hoping to spot his father and rocking back on his feet. “He seemed… like he thought it was funny. That, ah, there was a new Robin. But he didn’t really talk much. B messed up his shot, scared him off. Why is he so different, Dickie?” he asked carefully, trying to work out what had upset his older brother.
His breath caught again at the realization that Slade had already seen Jason, had already been closer than Dick ever wanted him to be. He leaned back against the cave wall, trying unsuccessfully to ground himself.
“He just is, okay? Jay, please. You’ve gotta trust me. You can’t go near him, never again. Okay? B wasn’t there, he doesn’t know. I never imagined Slade would be in Gotham or I would - I should’ve - I… he doesn’t know,” he breathed out shakily, eyes closed tightly as he tried to force away the things he was seeing, the hands he could feel again.
He could see the wheels turning in the boy’s head. Dick knew Jason was smart, and he’d seen things, seen too much, but this was not a puzzle he had ever wanted anyone to put together, much less his little brother.
“Why doesn’t Bruce know? I thought Batman knew…” the younger trailed off with a small blush that in other circumstances Dick would have teased him for.
He sucked in a desperate breath for air. Dick did not want to be having this conversation, but he didn’t know how else to protect Jason. Right now what he didn’t know could literally kill him. Or worse.
“B wasn’t…” he rubbed a hand roughly between his eyes, trying to ground himself and find the words for this. “I was a little older than you. We had a bad fight, and I, I moved into the Titans tower. It was like … no, he had. Slade had been waiting for the chance,” he began carefully, staring up at the cave ceiling so he didn’t have to see his brother’s reaction. “He took me. And it’s a long story, but, ah, he could have killed the Titans. My friends. Just, he had a button. I couldn’t escape, and Bruce… we hadn’t been talking. So, I, I was on my own,” he finished softly, pain leaking into his voice.
“You mean he kidnapped you!?” Jason exclaimed, horrified, “Why? How long did he have you? How did you get out?” he asked, one question after the other, worry clear in his voice.
“Three months,” the older whispered. “Three… he said he wanted, an apprentice but he-” Dick cut himself off. There were some details he just couldn’t make come out. “I played along. Got a message to my team, and they helped me get away once they were safe.”
“You mean Bruce never came?” the little boy asked, sounding like his world had just been ripped out from under him. If Dick had room for any further emotion it would have broken his heart.
“He didn’t-” Dick cut himself off, sighing in frustration, “We had a fight, we weren’t talking. We didn’t… we didn’t talk at all for months. I guess, I don’t know why he didn’t check on me but… he never did. He didn’t come. I got myself out,” he said softly, hurt leaking into his voice before his head suddenly snapped up as an angry Batman swooped in.
“What are you telling him?” the man snapped, clearly having overheard at least a small part of the conversation, “Our issues are between us, and they are in the past. I can’t believe you would stoop so low as to try to damage your brother’s trust in me.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Dick yelled back, anger flooding in and feeling like a much safer emotion than the previous terror. “I can’t believe you would let Robin anywhere near Slade Wilson!”
“Is that what this was about?” Bruce exclaimed in exasperation, “I know that undercover op didn’t go well, but you can’t-” he began before being cut off.
“I wasn’t undercover!” the young man screamed, tears filling his eyes as he quickly turned away, not wanting anyone to look at him.
Bruce took in a careful breath. “That wasn’t what you had led me to believe,” he said, trying to remain calm even as he felt the irritation rising that his son had lied to him. There clearly wasn’t a good alternative for this situation. “You’ve been kidnapped by others, Dick. You haven’t had this reaction to Robin being around them. Why is this different?”
There was a long silence and Jason looked frantically between the two, afraid to say anything and unsure of what could even be said. He knew something big was building here, and he didn’t like where he was afraid things were going.
Dick bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and dug his nails into the sleeve of his suit as he tried to hold himself together, but he couldn’t seem to find the words to respond as he refused to look at his family, and stared at the cave walls.
“What is so different about this time? Why is Deathstroke different?” the older man repeated firmly, forcing himself to think that this was some kind of rebellion, some childish way to get back at his father. There couldn’t be a good reason, because he didn’t want to even imagine what that would be.
“Because he’s a pedophile!” Dick exclaimed as he whirled around, forcing the words out. “Ephebophile, if you want to be technical,” he added, trying to pretend like he was much calmer about this than he was, even as his heartbeat throbbed in his ears. He couldn’t believe he was actually saying this, and he stared intently at the cave floor to avoid seeing the reaction.
It was amazing how the brain processed news like that. Bruce slammed down a rush of horror and anger and shoved it mentally to the side. It wouldn’t do any good in the moment. It was amazing with the life he had led how different of a feeling this was. He truthfully didn’t know if he had ever genuinely wanted to kill someone as much as he suddenly wanted to kill Slade Wilson. He quickly turned his attention to his younger son. “Jason, sweetheart, I think… it might be best if you gave us some privacy. I’ll call for you when we’re finished with this conversation.” he said carefully, sensing that this was a much more sensitive conversation than needed to be had in front of a fourteen year old. A fourteen year old that he would definitely have to check on as soon as he knew that his nineteen year old was okay, because he knew that Jason knew exactly what was just revealed.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dick said roughly as he heard small footsteps heading a little too quickly away from the room. “Just don’t, don’t let Robin ever go near him again. Please,” he said desperately.
Bruce stepped forward carefully, “Chum,” he began as he reached to put a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch me!” Dick exclaimed frantically, backing away from the older man.
Bruce closed his eyes as he blew out a breath, his brain rapidly reorganizing information as he processed what he had allowed himself to deny until his son had to spell it out for him. “I’m so sorry, Dickie,” he said softly. He had failed his oldest more than he had even realized and the weight of that realization was hitting him heavily. Because of his own pride and stupidity, he had put his boy into a situation where he had been hurt so much more terribly than Bruce had ever even allowed himself to consider. Regrets competed with questions as they rushed through his mind, but he tried to force himself to focus. Right now he needed to be the father he so clearly hadn’t been before.
Tears streamed down Dicks face as he hugged himself tightly and slid down the wall to the floor, pulling his legs to his chest. “Please don’t let him hurt Jay,” he said softly, “Jay’s so good, and he can’t… I don’t ever want him to know what that’s like,” he said with a small sob.
Bruce immediately dropped to the ground in front of his son, not touching but close enough to reach if he was wanted. The uncomfortable position on the cold, hard cave floor was nothing worth considering in the moment. “I promise. I’ll update Deathstroke’s file with the Justice League. He’s our most wanted rogue as of this minute. And I will make it very clear that no one underage is to go near him.” he said firmly, almost relieved to have something that could be done about this revelation.
Dick nodded into his knees, taking shuddering breaths as his whole body shook with adrenaline and sobs. After a moment he felt like the dam broke, and all the things he’d wanted to say for years came rushing out. “I thought you would come for me,” he sobbed, barely registering the sharp intake of air from the man in front of him. “I knew, I knew we had a fight but I still thought… and he laughed at me. When I called for you, he laughed at me,” he said, finally glancing desperately up at his father as he finally let the man see the hurt he had been masking with anger. After so much time, he still just wanted his dad to come save him.
Bruce hadn’t known his heart could break any more until he heard those words. ‘When I called for you’, his baby had been hurt, by a monster, and he had called for Bruce … and he hadn’t come. Dick had called for Batman, whose whole life was rescuing people, and he hadn’t saved his own son. He felt like the absolute scum of the earth. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated emphatically. “I thought I was giving you space. I … I assumed your team would contact me if anything happened. I didn’t consider all possibilities, and I should have. I am so sorry, honey,” he repeated before moving gently to sit next to the boy against the wall.
“They thought I, they thought I really turned on them,” Dick explained shakily, wanting to defend his team, “He put, um, nanobots in them. He could kill them with a push of a button and I, I had to do whatever he said. It took… it took a long time to get them a message.”
“How long, Dickie?” Bruce asked softly, not sure if he even wanted to know. He had been told the story of a short undercover operation, one that hadn’t had the intended outcome. Clearly a lot of details had been altered in that report.
Dick took in a careful breath, studying his father’s face before looking away again as he spoke. “Three months, one week, five days,” he admitted. “After… a couple months in, I realized I had to get myself out. I made a plan, I got my team a message, and when they got rid of the nanobots they came. I got out, but Slade got away,” he said, wanting Bruce to understand that he hadn’t given up, that he had fought even when he couldn’t physically fight. That even with everything that had been done to him, he had been strong enough and smart enough to get away when no backup came.
“You did so good, Chum,” Bruce said firmly, “I’m proud of you. You got yourself out of a situation you never should have had to, and you have … you survived. You’ve done so well, Dickie. I just wish I could have helped you. I should have helped you,” he said sincerely, starting to reach out again before freezing “Can I?” he asked softly and suddenly he had his arms full of sobbing teenager.
“I was so scared, and it, it hurt so much,” Dick said as he buried his face into his father’s chest, finally getting the comfort that he had so desperately needed then.
Bruce put a hand on the back of his boy’s head, holding him close and wishing he never had to let him go again. How could he ever let either of his boys back into the world now, now that the danger was real in a way it had never quite been before. Never had he imagined this. “What did he do to you?” he asked suddenly. He didn’t know if it was the right thing to ask, but he did know that it was going to kill him to keep imagining, to not know what his child had suffered.
There was silence for so long that Bruce began to think that he wouldn’t get an answer before suddenly Dick pushed away from him, curling back into a ball, and turning his face away. “He’d, he watched me. For years, he said,” the teen began softly, “It was like he’d, like he’d planned it all?” he said in a soft voice, turning and glancing at his father long enough for the pain in his eyes to punch the man in the stomach.“So I don’t like, I don’t like that he… that he knows Jay exists.” the boy continued, keeping eye contact just long enough to hope that his father could understand what he wanted to communicate, because words didn’t seem to do what he was feeling justice.
“He will never lay eyes on either of you again,” Bruce said firmly, even as he wondered how certain he could be of that, but as far as Bruce had any control over it, it would happen. This was one personal matter that he would bring the Justice League into if he had to. To protect his sons from this, he would risk their privacy. “I will do everything that can be done to keep you two safe,” he added firmly. The older man shifted slightly, a cave floor was really the farthest thing from comfortable, but he had the distinct feeling that if he broke this moment by suggesting they take the conversation elsewhere, that Dick’s willingness to talk would be over, and it might never happen again.
Dick looked away, curling even tighter into an impossibly small ball, hands squeezing so tightly at his arms that Bruce suspected he would leave bruises on himself. “He, ah, he trained me. To fight like him, shoot like him,” he began again, memories flashing through his mind that there just didn’t seem to be the words to describe. “He, he wanted me to be his apprentice, but he knew I didn’t want to. So he, ah, he had to break me,” he said in a small, shaky voice.
Bruce closed his eyes tightly, trying to shove away his own emotional reaction as he fought back a wave of nausea. The idea of someone trying to break his little boy, his little boy who was all emotion and energy and life, was physically sickening. This was his baby, and this monster had dared to hurt his baby, hurt him in such an intentional and horrific way. And it had happened because of Bruce’s mistakes. He didn’t know how to process it, but all he did know was that he could not make this about him. He couldn’t cause his son any more pain than he already had.
Dick sucked in a breath that sounded almost painful before he spoke again. “It was, it was confusing. Sometimes he made it sound like it was all, like it was just necessary. Like he was sorry he had to do it? But he liked it. When it … when he hurt me. He liked it. And he said… he said I was so pretty. That he couldn’t help himself, but he’d, B, he’d been watching me since I was younger than Jay! That’s so sick!” he spat out, turning back to look at his father by the end of what he said. The emotion on the usually well-composed man’s face almost shocked him, and for a moment he couldn’t decide if he wished he’d never said anything, or if he wished that he had run straight to his dad as soon as he had escaped.
If Bruce had thought he was nauseous before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his sons in bubble wrap, maybe on a space station, where nothing could ever hurt them again. He knew from what he had heard of Jason’s childhood the feeling that came with hearing that someone had hurt your child, that they had suffered, and you weren’t there to protect them. It didn’t matter one bit that Jason hadn’t been his child yet when he had been hurt. Bruce had never imagined how much worse that feeling could be when it was your fault. He couldn’t find the words to say at all as he simply stared at his child, hoping that just being there would be enough.
Dick felt like all the pain he had bottled up all this time was bursting out of him, after holding everything back, lying to cover it all up. Now four years later, it was like he couldn’t keep it inside another minute. “Training was… I’m used to training, but it was different. It was like… with you, we train so that we don’t get hurt. With Slade, I think, I think getting hurt was the point. At least at first. He’d just keep going, and keep pushing, and if I couldn’t keep up… he beat me,” he admitted, anger joining in with the pain in his voice. Anger was easier, it helped him get the words out. “And then, then if he wasn’t there, he locked me up. Chained me, most of the time. I didn’t even … I didn’t even, I didn’t know how much time it had been until I got back to the tower.”
Bruce reached slowly to place a hand on the boy’s knee, giving Dick every chance to ask him to stop. He knew that his oldest was usually so physically affectionate, that it was a large part of how he showed his love, but he also knew that these were rough memories, and Slade Wilson had taken something that was a comfort and perverted it. “I am so sorry, chum,” he repeated again. “I know that I have no excuse, I know that it doesn’t help anything. However, I would like you to know that I … I lost track of time as well. Several of our more dangerous rogues were out and… by the time I did check in with you again, I was startled by how much time had passed. I never intended to go so long without speaking to you. Not checking in on you sooner will be my greatest regret, Dick. After letting you leave in the first place,” he said sincerely. Words weren’t his forte, they never had been, but he knew that this was something he needed to communicate.
Dick’s face crumpled again and he slowly leaned closer until he dropped his head onto his father’s chest, seeking the comfort he wished he had all those years ago. In a way, it did change things. Because he knew Bruce, he knew how single-minded the man got on a mission. While nothing would ever take away the fact that he waited months for a rescue that never came, he could also accept that the man truly hadn’t known he had been in danger, and hadn’t realized how long it had been. It was thoughtless, and it was cold, but it was unintentional, and it was Bruce. For the moment, Dick wanted to accept that, and believe that things would change in the future, that they could change.
“Dad,” he sobbed. It was a term he rarely used, but right now that was what he needed Bruce to be. “He raped me,” he choked out, finally saying the words he’d kept locked inside for years. “Over and over and over. And it hurt, and I was so scared. And I … and I finally realized the only way to make it stop, was to do what he wanted! He didn’t, he didn’t trust me to make the shot yet but I helped him, and I stole things. I … just to save myself!” he admitted brokenly.
Bruce wrapped his arms tightly around his son, as if he could still protect him from the things his boy was saying, from the things he had experienced because Bruce couldn’t manage to be a decent parent. He knew that these words, and the months of horror behind them would haunt his nightmares now, and he deserved nothing less. “It’s not your fault.” he said firmly, “None of it, none of it is your fault. You were a child. You are a child. You did what you had to do to survive, and I am so thankful for that,” he said, a slightly shaky note to his voice. His son might be nineteen but … one day he would realize just how young that still was. “You are my child. The only one who bares responsibility for this other than Slade is me. It was my job to protect you.” he said fiercely, only realizing that he was crying when he saw tears land on the boy’s hair.
No more words came as they sat on the cold cave floor and cried together, for mistakes and pain and years of suffering that could have been prevented in so many ways. Bruce held his child close, suddenly realizing just how easily he could have never held him again. He knew that he had to change, his choices had hurt his child in unimaginable ways, and that could never be allowed to happen again. Never.