Rather Be On Top

chapter thirteen

Three Years Ago
"Is this your petty way of getting back at me, Slade? Really? Using Bruce's son against me? I know we're not friends anymore but I never thought you'd use someone else's family just to get back at me!"

A masked Green Arrow and Deathstroke stood defensively on a rooftop far from the center of the city. The area was secluded and with the light drizzle and peaceful night, there would be no patrolling or crime to take place. It was a good break for everyone.

Slade crossed his arms. "Hey, don't go blaming me for what Damian decided to do himself! I warned him that the plan wouldn't go as smooth as he would have liked! Oh but he and Talia are such troublemakers. He inherited her mischief and Bruce's stubborness. The kid's a tiny ball of rage and something that he'd be lost without me! I'm just watching his back!" Hearing this, Oliver angrily pulled his hood down then threw his arms in the air.

The hero scoffed once before wiping the rain droplets out of his eyes. And he couldn't help but scoff again. "Watch his back? That's what you're calling taking a teen-barely a teen-as your sidekick-"

"Apprentice-."

"That's not the point! Slade, he could get himself killed!"

Slade removed his own mask and pursed his lips together. The man rubbed the back of his neck before rolling it and sighing out deeply, shrugging his shoulders. "Listen Oliver, I haven't made a promise to you in years, okay? I know we're rocky, but kid, I'm telling you that I'll watch his back. Okay? By the time I'm done training him, he'll be untouchable." Another disapproving look was passed onto the mercenary. "Yeah, I've heard those words before."

And Slade couldn't help but roll his eyes and take a few steps forward to jab a finger at the hero's chest. "Listen here, kid, I taught you most of what you know now. You're standing here because I didn't have the guts to kill the boy who was stranded and alone. I may have changed for the worst, but like you, Damian needs guidance and I'm giving it to him." Slade turned away.

"And he'll be better than your or me. Ra's and even Bruce. I've never believed in something so much in so long so you better believe that I'll have his back."

The conversation was done.

Both turned away and hopped off the rooftop in opposite directions to run back home.

Damian sat on the window sill a floor beneath where both adults just were. He stared at the ground and pounded his fist against the wall, watching it crack, hopping away from the now crumbling ceiling.

The best.

It was what he was striving for.

This is what it feels like to be out of that hell I called a home. This is what it feels like to be believed in. This is what it feels like to be the favourite. . .

-

52 Days Later
"Sla-ack! Slade! Break? Can we take a break? I can't even feel my. . . legs."

Damian's breathing was laboured, heavy and uneven and he finally collapsed to the floor, legs giving in and chest hitting the bloodied ground after his knees. His head gave a quiet thud as it tapped the ground.

The young teen tapped the ground thrice before closing his eyes. "I yield."

With a frown, Slade tapped his side with the side of his boot a few times. "If I were your enemy, surrendering like that gets you killed." Damian turned his head a bit to speak more clearly. "I didn't surrender. I yielded."

"And there's a difference?"

"They are different words. Every word has it's own meaning even when they mean the same thing."