Forgotten Bonds

Forty-Two - Blue Birthday

March 19th, 2009. Thursday, 1:12 pm. 

Slade honestly thought everything was going good. 

The boy had reconciled with his friends and was even in contact with them daily with a cell phone that Slade had provided him – not to mention that Dick had a Titans' communicator as well. The door to the outside world was open to him. Everything seemed like a normal family even and Slade was still mentally adjusting to it at times, since there were moments where it all felt strange to him. But he still enjoyed it. It was a slower pace of life, true; but there was something just perfect about it. 

He even gave the boy time to acclimate to his new freedom – eliminating the intense training regime from the boy's schedule. Slade was still planning to give the boy a schedule to keep sometime soon. Dick was still a fourteen year old boy – he still had much to learn and since Slade was the parent, that meant he had the responsibility to keep Dick learning. Slade was already going over all the things that he knew would be most helpful for the future he figured Dick would pursue. 

Slade had to chuckle over the thought. What hero could readily say that he had an expert ex-villain teaching him all the knowledge that had been acquired through the years, to train him perfectly in ways a normal hero wouldn't even imagine? And teach him for the sake of making him the best hero he could become. 

Well, Slade had to admit – he was sort of proud of himself for sliding into the fatherly role pretty easily. 

But something was wrong. 

Dick was allowed back as a Teen Titan – as leader, in fact; but he told his friends to give him a few days. And thus, he never left; not once to go out with his friends. After months of not seeing them at all, Slade thought this was definitely odd behavior, but when Slade had actually heard the boy decline an offer to go out for pizza... Well, it was then he knew the boy was completely off. 

Something was terribly wrong and Slade couldn't figure it out. As each of the recent three days progressed, the boy seemed to droop into a deeper depression. It was definitely beginning to become alarming to Slade and he just wasn't sure what to do. Nothing he or Wintergreen did could get anything out of the boy. He just was a wisp, apathetically drifting here and there. Slade had never seen the boy act like this and the worry was beginning to eat at his insides. 

That was new – the worry; that annoying emotion that seemed to come with the occupation. 

The three of them were eating a late lunch and Slade was watching the boy carefully as he picked at his food. This wasn't the first time Dick wouldn't really eat properly; the past day only getting worse. There was also a terrible gloom hanging over Dick. It was completely unsettling, not to mention worrying; and Slade hated worrying like this – also brought indigestion, interestingly enough. It was a waste of time and he certainly didn't have time to waste in worry. 

Well, that wasn't exactly true. He actually had all the time in the world, especially now that he stopped being Deathstroke. He had placed all his contacts into lockdown. To those who knew Deathstroke and knew how to get into contact with him, it would be as if Slade had disappeared from off the face of the planet. No one would know what happened to him. 

There were times that Slade found himself at a loss, unsure what to fully do with his time. The choice of abandoning his assassin ego was, at times, throwing things out of whack in Slade's mind. He almost felt paralyzed; teetering on the edge of being Deathstroke the assassin, mercenary; and being Slade Wilson, stay at home father. Things he would've done as Deathstroke with his Apprentice were sometimes different than what he would've done as Slade Wilson with his son.