Forgotten Bonds

Ten - Anger Management

October 12th, 2008. Sunday, 6:00 pm. 

Dick was awake before he opened his eyes. The events of the previous night flooded through his mind. As he watched the memories and scenes play in his head, an enormous uncontrollable wave of fierce anger rose in his heart. He hated Slade – hated him. The man hadn't needed to continue beating him. Dick was furious at him. He felt that he had been unjustly dealt with. Yes, he did something completely stupid and deadly dangerous, but that didn't mean Slade could vent his fury out on him. 

And Wintergreen was no help at all. The old man meant well enough, but he was of no use. Dick hated him too for allowing Slade to have his way with him; even though deep down he understood that the old man didn't have any power over Slade. Dick still felt resentful towards the old man – he just couldn't help it right now. 

They had made his life a total misery, an inferno of pure torment and suffering. So be it, then. He'd just return the favor. No way in heck he was going to do anything they said. He had tried, he really had; but no more. He was done with them. They were just going end up being cruel anyways. Might as well make the experience just as miserable for them. 

With his thoughts in a whirl, he didn't notice right away that he wasn't in any pain. 

He opened his eyes quickly. That's right – he wasn't in pain. There were no aches and pains, no muscles screaming at him in protest at the harsh reality. He felt fine. Well, that was debatable, but physically he felt fine. He slowly sat up; the covers pushing forward. There was a sharp intake of breath in the room and then, a cool hand pressed at his forehead. 

Shocked by the sudden contact with humans, Dick flinched violently; smashing his back against the wall with his eyes wide against the hand. His breathing intensified. He didn't want anyone touching him. He hated everything and everyone. Anyone who was around him only ended up hurting him. He didn't want anyone to be near him. He didn't— 

"Child!" cried Wintergreen's voice. "It's all right. It's only me. I'm not going to hurt you. Calm yourself." 

Dick focused his eyes. Sure enough, the old man was sitting in the chair from his desk, close to the bedside, and staring at Dick with large, concerned eyes. Dick let out a slow breath; taking another deep breath afterwards. It was okay. The old man wouldn't harm him directly. He only let Slade do that for him. 

Dick's eyes narrowed at Wintergreen. 

"Wha—what are you doing here?" asked Dick; suspicion dripping throughout his tone. He didn't bother to be polite. This old man wasn't his friend. No matter how often the old man smiled at him, he was not to be trusted. 

"I tended to your... injuries," said Wintergreen, sounding as if the words tasted bitter in his mouth. "I gave you a shot of the healing serum and you seem to be doing much better, thank goodness." 

"Shouldn't have needed a serum in the first place," snarled Dick. 

"I agree." 

"Then, why didn't you stop him!" cried Dick, uncaring that his tone was filled with betrayal. "You always seemed... like you actually cared. Unlike him." 

"I do care. Very much, in fact," said Wintergreen, his tone filled with a soft kindness. However, his face slid away into a stern glare that made Dick squirm suddenly. He didn't like that look. 

"Which brings me to a subject I never got a chance to discuss with you," said Wintergreen; a firm glint entering his eyes. "I must say I do not agree with what Slade did to you, but that doesn't mean I'm at all pleased with your latest stunt. You could've blown yourself up! I thought you were intelligent."