Titans: Rise of Talon

Shots Not Taken

A/N: Thank you all so much for the 1k votes!!! That's crazy! Thank you, guys!

Also, I apologize for the monumental wait. Life's been busy, but I hope you enjoy this update!

And finally, fair warning. This deals with some kinda heavy stuff.
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18:57 SST
The Island
December 3rd

It had been unrealistic for Dick to think that he could escape the compound before tonight's "class." He had most of the basic layout memorized, as well as several of the security patrol routes, but between all of the training and the constant guard surveillance, he hadn't yet figured a way out.

And at the moment, he had more pressing matters.

    He had three minutes until his inevitable gun education would begin, and he was trying to steady his nerves as he stood outside of the door to Slade's indoor training room. He had been saving all of his fight, all of his energy, for this one moment. He wasn't ready to betray Bruce like that, and he was afraid that somehow Slade would make him.

     Slade held that kind of power. He had a presence that demanded swift and direct obedience, and in the den of the lion, Richard would do just about anything not to get eaten alive.

But he was resolved not to budge on this one. He would learn whatever else Slade would teach him, do whatever he asked short of taking a life, as long as he wasn't forced to betray his adoptive father.

The metallic door slid open, and Richard strode inside, his pace projecting confidence he didn't have. It took almost all of his willpower not to falter at a maskless Slade standing over a table lined with various guns.

      Despite what many believed about the bats, Richard didn't mind guns as much as Bruce. He understood their purpose and that they were both useful and necessary in certain situations. He and Jason both had been taught how to assemble and disassemble a variety of firearms and how to use them by Alfred, who didn't hold the same convictions as his employer. And while the younger bat took to the lessons with ease, Richard could claim that he was still a pretty decent shot. Not that Slade needed to know that.

       Because he also knew what his adoptive father would think if he saw his son with that type of weapon, one that could so easily determine life and death with the flex of a finger without being close enough to see the light fade out of the target's eyes. It made killing too easy, and with his own track record of vengeance and anger, Richard knew Bruce would only assume the worst.

Slade looked up from the table, his lip curling into a smirk.

"Ah, right on time. I half expected you to be hiding in your room."

"I'm no coward," he growled, crossing one arm over the other, "But you won't get me to shoot, Slade, so this lesson is unnecessary."

"You will learn to shoot," the assassin replied sternly, finally stepping away from the table. "You agreed to be my apprentice, and this is part of that contract."

"You said you were teaching me to defeat a Talon, and the only way to do that is with close combat. I won't become your tagalong assassin. I'll do anything else but that."

     "As much as I would love to debate this with you," Slade drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "We don't have the time. This is a vital part of your education. Now get over here, and let's get started."

     Richard took a deep breath, knowing the fight was inevitable. "I won't shoot, Slade, not for you. You can't make me."

    "Is that right?" Slade asked, his voice deceptively calm, and Richard felt a tinge of fear trickle down his spine.