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sylph_ficsShiney new title for the 'Family' verse.
The initial idea for this series can be found in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
coldfiredragon's two fics:
Forever is an Awful Long Time (Dick/Slade)
Pieces of a Puzzle(Dick/Slade)
And then I wrote these:
Broken Past, Darker Futures(Dick/Roy)
Negotiations (Dick/Slade)
Changing The Rules (Slade)
Fresh Start (Dick/Roy, Lian, Rose)
Reclamation (Slade/Dick)
Now, there's this one, which picks up the next night.
Title: Confrontations... and Reluctant Understandings
Rating: PG (for a few curse words)
Characters: Slade, Roy
Summary: Roy knew Slade's absence wouldn't last forever... but the confrontation doesn't quite go as he'd thought.
Feedback: Please, please, please.
This was a new endeavor for online-me, because 'Filly wrote Slade and I wrote Roy, so, this one's really a joint effort.
Slade smiled slightly to himself as he watched the taillight of Dick's bike pull out of the drive and take off towards the south. Two hours in that direction, a policeman with a taste for children and a badge to protect himself was about to learn that the shield was not enough protection. Not when you angered a wealthy if absent mother. He'd accepted the contract over a week ago, intending it to be Dick's first kill. Circumstances had turned it into the second, but the first solo. Now, with him absent and the girls in bed, was the perfect time to have a... discussion with his boy's pet.
He drew in a deep, satisfied breath of air as he turned to go back inside. He took the time to set the codes, securing the estate for the night. He was in no hurry to go find the boy just yet; after all, the archer was likely smart enough to know it was coming, and anticipation would just make it sweeter for Slade. He had a little more work to look over before he indulged his interest in interviewing the former marksman.
Roy prowled the room nervously, feeling as though there was a target painted between his shoulder blades. Dick was gone to do god-knew-what, and with Lian tucked in and Rose either asleep or studying, there was nothing to distract him from the fact that he was alone in Deathstroke's home. The man's word was his bond and he'd promised Dick safety for the two of them--but there was no way he didn't want something in return, something more than what left the quickly-fading bruises on Dick's neck and hips and arms. Knowing he shared Dick with the assassin was gut-twistingly painful--then again, with as many years as he'd shared Dick with Babs, Kory, and whoever else fell under Dick's irresistible charm, he could almost convince himself this wasn't that bad. At least this time, they all knew exactly what they were getting into.
Almost a full hour passed, and there was still no sound from the rest of the house. Roy could almost relax, almost convince himself that he was nothing more than a reward to Dick, a thing of no consequence in Slade Wilson's world.
Then the doorknob turned.
Sounds echo loudly in silence, and that one sounded more like a gunshot than the click of a latch. Roy whipped around from the window, fighting to get his face composed before it could open fully. The collar locked around his neck nearly burned against his skin as he waited, but his head went back and his shoulders straightened, eyes on the door. He wasn't beaten yet.
The man that entered the room was disarmingly... civilian. Dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a lightweight shirt that did nothing to hide the powerful chest beneath it, Slade looked for all the world like a man just in from a normal day of work. Roy had seen him so many times over the years, in various guises, but somehow this one threatened him the most.
"Harper." The smug ease that the name flowed out of his lips with was one more calculated piece of menace.
"Wondered when you'd finally show up," Roy answered, wondering why he was so sure this would be easier if it was Deathstroke in front of him, not Slade. Too many lines to walk for him to be blatantly defiant, but if Slade wanted to make small talk, sure, he could do that.
"Settling in?" His eye lingered a long time on the collar, making it feel cold and constrictive, a mark of what this man had done to Dick, rather than a token of the bond between Dick and him.
"About as well as could be expected, I suppose. Nice place... for something bought with blood money..." The hell Slade was going to make him ashamed. His chin shifted up, just a little more, jaw setting harder. //Fuck you, you son of a bitch. If this is what I have to be to stay with my lover, I'll do it, but you don't hold my leash. (He owns Di)--Shut up!//
That eye narrowed dangerously, before the big man walked fully into the room, hands behind his back as he looked all around.
"Blood money. One currency that runs heavily here. Then there are other ways things... lives... have been bought from me," he said coolly. "More personal ways."
The redhead tilted his head at him, surprised that had actually gotten a reaction. Slade wasn't normally sensitive about his profession. "Did you somehow think that wasn't blazingly clear to me? I know what Dick did to protect me, and my baby, and have a pretty good guess at both forms of payment he probably used. That's between me and him."
A chuckle was his first answer to that claim. "Harper, there's nothing in this house that's just between you and anyone." He casually strode to the armchair, his body a coiled flow of energy that was contained, grounded, in ways that Dick's never would be. When he sat, he gave the impression of a feudal lord, surveying his domain. "You were bought, and I allowed it because it suited my purposes."
"Yeah... I'm actually really damned confused by that. Lian I can understand, given, well, that. It'll burn Chesh but good to have her daughter in your hands, and you've got to love it. But me? That I don't get. You already own him, it was written all over his body every time he looked at you, every time he says your damned name... why give him me? You didn't need to. The Renegade I saw last--no, two nights ago--wouldn't give a damn. So why let me live?"
Roy watched the man take the time to consider the question, reaching up to idly groom that small beard. "He laid out compelling qualifications for your services in this household," Slade answered with a slight smirk. "As it will not interfere with his services to me, I agreed." The stress there indicated that there was a point at which Slade could dispense with Roy's presence, one that could be reached by trying to manipulate Dick from either killing or the bedroom.
"He did?" startled, stupid question. "Never mind. You don't bother to say anything you don't mean." //Dick, what did you say?// He shook his head--shook off the surprise, and crossed his arms, watching the damned arrogant man sit there so calmly. "You know, Ollie has that same 'tick'..." Hell with it. Might as well poke the bear to see if it's asleep.
"Does he now?" The icy calm was so much a part of Deathstroke that Roy could almost see the colors of the assassin rather than those pale, civilian clothes. "Tell me where you see yourself in my world." This was the point he let Roy make his intentions clear as a bell, or hang himself on the rope being extended.
"If it wasn't for Dick? Abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. With him here, like this? When you've got my daughter? I'll do whatever I have to. I'm not going to spend another month scared witless for him, not knowing if he's alive or dead. I won't."
"You know I will care well for your daughter, so her safety is not a factor here," Slade said, somewhat harshly. "And your loyalty to my boy is, for the time being, accepted." He pinned Roy with a hard gaze. "Where do you fit in this house? Strictly his bed? A house father to a child with the potential to be the next generation's foremost marksman?"
"...Oh, you son of a bitch." Low, harsh whisper. "You--" and he cut it off hard. Swearing at his lover's Dom was not the brightest idea he'd ever had. "It's not just to fuck with Chesh, and not to hold a leash on me. It's what you see in Lian. You want to make me daughter a killer, just like yours. Fuck. Damnit, Dick!" Completely off the topic, but onto the Far more important one.
Slade did not deny the accusation fully. "Her welfare is of concern to my boy, as well," he said instead. "You, however, have not answered my question." There it was again, the cool voice that had haunted Titans from around the world for years.
"That's because I don't have a clue how to! Jesus, Slade, it's not like this is something I was planning on! What time I haven't spent fighting--or making up with--Dick has been spent either with my very confused five-year-old, dodging your daughter, or asleep!"
Slade rose from the chair, stalking to a point not four inches from Roy to glare down at him. "Think, then, long and hard. Now."
Roy looked up at eye and eyepatch, and fought not to take a step back. "Why even give me the choice?"
Slade's hand twitched at his side, and it was enough to actually draw Roy's attention. The man standing there, looming with calculated presence had stopped himself from laying hands on Roy.
"Tell me, Harper. Do you prefer to be a pawn in all this, or will you step up and take advantage of what you could be given?"
"You ought to know how much I hate getting played, Wilson, and being a pawn's even worse. I trust your word, but I don't trust you, and that you're nervous enough to ask me if I'm going to 'step up'... You're after something big. The Outsiders were the first step, not the last. How many of my family are you going to kill, and why in hell do you think I'd ever be willing to help you?" He took a few breaths, calming down just a little. "But I hate being useless even more than I hate getting played. Put me at Dick's back, let me cover him. That much I can say I'll do, right now. No tries to get away, no Flashed messages to my kin, my word on it. Just put me at his back. I'm not letting you get him killed, too."
Slade slowly smiled, a look that was more threatening than any other expression. This was exactly what he wanted to find, that the boy was not a useless mouth to feed, that he would choose to adapt. He stepped back just enough to cross his arms over his chest. "You'll have his back, when I say you must go with him. Until then, you learn." He looked very satisfied with himself right now, though he did not address the questioning about his plans. "You may also assist in training Rose. She has a preference for naked steel, but your eye is good enough to complete her marksmanship training."
Roy managed to keep from wincing--just barely. //Why me?// Sure, Rose hadn't pulled anything like yesterday morning again, but there was still this look in her eyes sometimes... //Wait, did he just... Yeah, he did.// He tried to ignore the warmth through his chest at the compliment, pushing it away. "All right. I can do that. What've you got her working on, pistols still or long guns?"
"Pistols so far, but she needs both. See to teaching her all of them, Harper." Slade turned to leave the room, then paused. "Any requests for yourself or your daughter?" He knew the strength of giving rewards, knew how to use the carrot as well as he knew the use of the stick.
"Lian seems pretty happy, so far, so... not that I can think of. Me... I need something to do, I never have this much down-time... Please, god, don't suggest the library. That's Dick's gig, but if you've got a guitar around..."
Slade actually turned fully back around, appraising Roy with a gaze that Roy did not know the word for. Was it kind, reminiscent, or sad? Somewhere in the mix of it all, Roy was sure he saw a glimpse of a man, not a monster in there.
"I have one," he admitted. "I'll bring it to you." He thought of the last person to touch that guitar, the one he had bought it for, and saw a sliver of what having a family in his life could be like, with reminders of the past like this one.
It took Roy a long moment before everything connected, and then the redhead felt like a complete ass. "I... thanks, Slade. I... sorry. I should have remembered." //No you do not need to apologize any more than that. It's not like you did it on purpose.// "That wasn't... deliberate."
"I didn't think so. That's why you are still breathing." He put just a hint of menace in his voice, but there was a note of amusement there too. "He would probably..." The man's jaw clenched, as more pleasant memories were crowded out by the recent year's madness, incited by the person in question. With no more said, he walked out of the room, considering the results of the talk.
To the silence of the room, Roy sighed. "Yeah, Slade. He probably would." He dropped onto the bed, shoving a hand up into the fuzz over his skull. //Not nearly as satisfying as it used to be,// he thought, sighing. "Waaay to go, Harper. Nice work. You're lucky he didn't decide to deck you, for starters." If he was being honest with himself, he was lucky Slade hadn't done a lot more than that. Nobody but an idiot reminded that man about Joey.
Barely ten minutes later, the door opened and the big man wordlessly laid a guitar case on the bed for him. He left without sharing any more sentiments or testing, but Roy got the impression it was still in the forefront of the man's thoughts. The single eye rested on him a long moment before the door closed once more, and the silence of the house pressed in again.
Roy'd looked up, seen the expression on Slade's face, and done nothing but nod his thanks. He really did know when to be quiet. Long, long minutes after Slade had left again, he pulled the guitar case into his lap and flicked it open, testing the strings, tuning it carefully. //Miss you, Joey... Not Jericho so much, but Joey...//
He shifted back against the headboard, pulled his fingers across the strings, and the slow starting strains of 'Thunder Road' poured off the strings, keeping him company. //Be safe, Dick. Please.//
Not too far away, a man considered the music, nodded once in sharp fashion to himself, and walked on. The past was over; only the future could exist now.
and then comemerfilly's:
A Bird in the Hand(Dinah, Slade)
Hints and Whispers (Huntress, Oracle, Batman, Kyle, Connor, various others) (her latest)
and Failing Diplomacy (Dinah, Slade, Dick, Roy, Lian, Rose)
She keeps getting further ahead of me. I'm slow, my bad for making you all backtrack. But I think we've got all of the scenes up to the end of Failing Diplomacy done, so there shouldn't be much more of that.
The initial idea for this series can be found in
coldfiredragon's two fics: Forever is an Awful Long Time (Dick/Slade)
Pieces of a Puzzle(Dick/Slade)
And then I wrote these:
Broken Past, Darker Futures(Dick/Roy)
Negotiations (Dick/Slade)
Changing The Rules (Slade)
Fresh Start (Dick/Roy, Lian, Rose)
Reclamation (Slade/Dick)
Now, there's this one, which picks up the next night.
Title: Confrontations... and Reluctant Understandings
Rating: PG (for a few curse words)
Characters: Slade, Roy
Summary: Roy knew Slade's absence wouldn't last forever... but the confrontation doesn't quite go as he'd thought.
Feedback: Please, please, please.
This was a new endeavor for online-me, because 'Filly wrote Slade and I wrote Roy, so, this one's really a joint effort.
Slade smiled slightly to himself as he watched the taillight of Dick's bike pull out of the drive and take off towards the south. Two hours in that direction, a policeman with a taste for children and a badge to protect himself was about to learn that the shield was not enough protection. Not when you angered a wealthy if absent mother. He'd accepted the contract over a week ago, intending it to be Dick's first kill. Circumstances had turned it into the second, but the first solo. Now, with him absent and the girls in bed, was the perfect time to have a... discussion with his boy's pet.
He drew in a deep, satisfied breath of air as he turned to go back inside. He took the time to set the codes, securing the estate for the night. He was in no hurry to go find the boy just yet; after all, the archer was likely smart enough to know it was coming, and anticipation would just make it sweeter for Slade. He had a little more work to look over before he indulged his interest in interviewing the former marksman.
Roy prowled the room nervously, feeling as though there was a target painted between his shoulder blades. Dick was gone to do god-knew-what, and with Lian tucked in and Rose either asleep or studying, there was nothing to distract him from the fact that he was alone in Deathstroke's home. The man's word was his bond and he'd promised Dick safety for the two of them--but there was no way he didn't want something in return, something more than what left the quickly-fading bruises on Dick's neck and hips and arms. Knowing he shared Dick with the assassin was gut-twistingly painful--then again, with as many years as he'd shared Dick with Babs, Kory, and whoever else fell under Dick's irresistible charm, he could almost convince himself this wasn't that bad. At least this time, they all knew exactly what they were getting into.
Almost a full hour passed, and there was still no sound from the rest of the house. Roy could almost relax, almost convince himself that he was nothing more than a reward to Dick, a thing of no consequence in Slade Wilson's world.
Then the doorknob turned.
Sounds echo loudly in silence, and that one sounded more like a gunshot than the click of a latch. Roy whipped around from the window, fighting to get his face composed before it could open fully. The collar locked around his neck nearly burned against his skin as he waited, but his head went back and his shoulders straightened, eyes on the door. He wasn't beaten yet.
The man that entered the room was disarmingly... civilian. Dressed in a pair of khaki slacks and a lightweight shirt that did nothing to hide the powerful chest beneath it, Slade looked for all the world like a man just in from a normal day of work. Roy had seen him so many times over the years, in various guises, but somehow this one threatened him the most.
"Harper." The smug ease that the name flowed out of his lips with was one more calculated piece of menace.
"Wondered when you'd finally show up," Roy answered, wondering why he was so sure this would be easier if it was Deathstroke in front of him, not Slade. Too many lines to walk for him to be blatantly defiant, but if Slade wanted to make small talk, sure, he could do that.
"Settling in?" His eye lingered a long time on the collar, making it feel cold and constrictive, a mark of what this man had done to Dick, rather than a token of the bond between Dick and him.
"About as well as could be expected, I suppose. Nice place... for something bought with blood money..." The hell Slade was going to make him ashamed. His chin shifted up, just a little more, jaw setting harder. //Fuck you, you son of a bitch. If this is what I have to be to stay with my lover, I'll do it, but you don't hold my leash. (He owns Di)--Shut up!//
That eye narrowed dangerously, before the big man walked fully into the room, hands behind his back as he looked all around.
"Blood money. One currency that runs heavily here. Then there are other ways things... lives... have been bought from me," he said coolly. "More personal ways."
The redhead tilted his head at him, surprised that had actually gotten a reaction. Slade wasn't normally sensitive about his profession. "Did you somehow think that wasn't blazingly clear to me? I know what Dick did to protect me, and my baby, and have a pretty good guess at both forms of payment he probably used. That's between me and him."
A chuckle was his first answer to that claim. "Harper, there's nothing in this house that's just between you and anyone." He casually strode to the armchair, his body a coiled flow of energy that was contained, grounded, in ways that Dick's never would be. When he sat, he gave the impression of a feudal lord, surveying his domain. "You were bought, and I allowed it because it suited my purposes."
"Yeah... I'm actually really damned confused by that. Lian I can understand, given, well, that. It'll burn Chesh but good to have her daughter in your hands, and you've got to love it. But me? That I don't get. You already own him, it was written all over his body every time he looked at you, every time he says your damned name... why give him me? You didn't need to. The Renegade I saw last--no, two nights ago--wouldn't give a damn. So why let me live?"
Roy watched the man take the time to consider the question, reaching up to idly groom that small beard. "He laid out compelling qualifications for your services in this household," Slade answered with a slight smirk. "As it will not interfere with his services to me, I agreed." The stress there indicated that there was a point at which Slade could dispense with Roy's presence, one that could be reached by trying to manipulate Dick from either killing or the bedroom.
"He did?" startled, stupid question. "Never mind. You don't bother to say anything you don't mean." //Dick, what did you say?// He shook his head--shook off the surprise, and crossed his arms, watching the damned arrogant man sit there so calmly. "You know, Ollie has that same 'tick'..." Hell with it. Might as well poke the bear to see if it's asleep.
"Does he now?" The icy calm was so much a part of Deathstroke that Roy could almost see the colors of the assassin rather than those pale, civilian clothes. "Tell me where you see yourself in my world." This was the point he let Roy make his intentions clear as a bell, or hang himself on the rope being extended.
"If it wasn't for Dick? Abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. With him here, like this? When you've got my daughter? I'll do whatever I have to. I'm not going to spend another month scared witless for him, not knowing if he's alive or dead. I won't."
"You know I will care well for your daughter, so her safety is not a factor here," Slade said, somewhat harshly. "And your loyalty to my boy is, for the time being, accepted." He pinned Roy with a hard gaze. "Where do you fit in this house? Strictly his bed? A house father to a child with the potential to be the next generation's foremost marksman?"
"...Oh, you son of a bitch." Low, harsh whisper. "You--" and he cut it off hard. Swearing at his lover's Dom was not the brightest idea he'd ever had. "It's not just to fuck with Chesh, and not to hold a leash on me. It's what you see in Lian. You want to make me daughter a killer, just like yours. Fuck. Damnit, Dick!" Completely off the topic, but onto the Far more important one.
Slade did not deny the accusation fully. "Her welfare is of concern to my boy, as well," he said instead. "You, however, have not answered my question." There it was again, the cool voice that had haunted Titans from around the world for years.
"That's because I don't have a clue how to! Jesus, Slade, it's not like this is something I was planning on! What time I haven't spent fighting--or making up with--Dick has been spent either with my very confused five-year-old, dodging your daughter, or asleep!"
Slade rose from the chair, stalking to a point not four inches from Roy to glare down at him. "Think, then, long and hard. Now."
Roy looked up at eye and eyepatch, and fought not to take a step back. "Why even give me the choice?"
Slade's hand twitched at his side, and it was enough to actually draw Roy's attention. The man standing there, looming with calculated presence had stopped himself from laying hands on Roy.
"Tell me, Harper. Do you prefer to be a pawn in all this, or will you step up and take advantage of what you could be given?"
"You ought to know how much I hate getting played, Wilson, and being a pawn's even worse. I trust your word, but I don't trust you, and that you're nervous enough to ask me if I'm going to 'step up'... You're after something big. The Outsiders were the first step, not the last. How many of my family are you going to kill, and why in hell do you think I'd ever be willing to help you?" He took a few breaths, calming down just a little. "But I hate being useless even more than I hate getting played. Put me at Dick's back, let me cover him. That much I can say I'll do, right now. No tries to get away, no Flashed messages to my kin, my word on it. Just put me at his back. I'm not letting you get him killed, too."
Slade slowly smiled, a look that was more threatening than any other expression. This was exactly what he wanted to find, that the boy was not a useless mouth to feed, that he would choose to adapt. He stepped back just enough to cross his arms over his chest. "You'll have his back, when I say you must go with him. Until then, you learn." He looked very satisfied with himself right now, though he did not address the questioning about his plans. "You may also assist in training Rose. She has a preference for naked steel, but your eye is good enough to complete her marksmanship training."
Roy managed to keep from wincing--just barely. //Why me?// Sure, Rose hadn't pulled anything like yesterday morning again, but there was still this look in her eyes sometimes... //Wait, did he just... Yeah, he did.// He tried to ignore the warmth through his chest at the compliment, pushing it away. "All right. I can do that. What've you got her working on, pistols still or long guns?"
"Pistols so far, but she needs both. See to teaching her all of them, Harper." Slade turned to leave the room, then paused. "Any requests for yourself or your daughter?" He knew the strength of giving rewards, knew how to use the carrot as well as he knew the use of the stick.
"Lian seems pretty happy, so far, so... not that I can think of. Me... I need something to do, I never have this much down-time... Please, god, don't suggest the library. That's Dick's gig, but if you've got a guitar around..."
Slade actually turned fully back around, appraising Roy with a gaze that Roy did not know the word for. Was it kind, reminiscent, or sad? Somewhere in the mix of it all, Roy was sure he saw a glimpse of a man, not a monster in there.
"I have one," he admitted. "I'll bring it to you." He thought of the last person to touch that guitar, the one he had bought it for, and saw a sliver of what having a family in his life could be like, with reminders of the past like this one.
It took Roy a long moment before everything connected, and then the redhead felt like a complete ass. "I... thanks, Slade. I... sorry. I should have remembered." //No you do not need to apologize any more than that. It's not like you did it on purpose.// "That wasn't... deliberate."
"I didn't think so. That's why you are still breathing." He put just a hint of menace in his voice, but there was a note of amusement there too. "He would probably..." The man's jaw clenched, as more pleasant memories were crowded out by the recent year's madness, incited by the person in question. With no more said, he walked out of the room, considering the results of the talk.
To the silence of the room, Roy sighed. "Yeah, Slade. He probably would." He dropped onto the bed, shoving a hand up into the fuzz over his skull. //Not nearly as satisfying as it used to be,// he thought, sighing. "Waaay to go, Harper. Nice work. You're lucky he didn't decide to deck you, for starters." If he was being honest with himself, he was lucky Slade hadn't done a lot more than that. Nobody but an idiot reminded that man about Joey.
Barely ten minutes later, the door opened and the big man wordlessly laid a guitar case on the bed for him. He left without sharing any more sentiments or testing, but Roy got the impression it was still in the forefront of the man's thoughts. The single eye rested on him a long moment before the door closed once more, and the silence of the house pressed in again.
Roy'd looked up, seen the expression on Slade's face, and done nothing but nod his thanks. He really did know when to be quiet. Long, long minutes after Slade had left again, he pulled the guitar case into his lap and flicked it open, testing the strings, tuning it carefully. //Miss you, Joey... Not Jericho so much, but Joey...//
He shifted back against the headboard, pulled his fingers across the strings, and the slow starting strains of 'Thunder Road' poured off the strings, keeping him company. //Be safe, Dick. Please.//
Not too far away, a man considered the music, nodded once in sharp fashion to himself, and walked on. The past was over; only the future could exist now.
and then come
merfilly's: A Bird in the Hand(Dinah, Slade)
Hints and Whispers (Huntress, Oracle, Batman, Kyle, Connor, various others) (her latest)
and Failing Diplomacy (Dinah, Slade, Dick, Roy, Lian, Rose)
She keeps getting further ahead of me. I'm slow, my bad for making you all backtrack. But I think we've got all of the scenes up to the end of Failing Diplomacy done, so there shouldn't be much more of that.
