A/N:There won't be much torture in this chapter, more of a reflect and dick's thoughts.
*contains thoughts of SH(self harm).*

The next day went by in a blur for Dick, after so many different drugs being forced into his system, along with the current fear toxin that was breaking his mind bit by bit.

Soon the room was filled with the screams, and moans of pain from a broken bird.

Minutes turned into hours, hours felt like forever. Dick slowly began to lose hope.
Deep down he knew no one was searching for him, no one was coming to rescue him. He was all  alone. He had quite the team, told Barbara and Tim that he needed a break, to be left alone for awhile. After Wally's death, it made the world feel so dark and empty, causing him to feel cold and alone. He was joyless, like all the laughter, energy, and love was sucked from the world when the speedster disappeared....died right before him.

It happened again.
Someone who meant so much to him, died before him again...died because of him.

His parents died because of him, because he didn't warn them about seeing the men in the shadows and how they seemed to be up to no good.

Wally was dead because of him. He started this whole thing, maybe if he didn't become a side kick then maybe Wally would have never ventured down that path after him. Maybe this last run was his fault as well. Maybe Wally was distracted because of him in some way. He didn't know, all he knew was that he felt guilty as hell and was the one to blame for it, for him leaving, for the team losing a member. For Barry and Iris, the West Family and Artemis losing a cherished love one.

Hell Dick was the reason behind Jason's beginning and death as well. If he never got into that fight with Bruce, if he wasn't fired/quit, well maybe just quit for a bit but it turned into forever, Then maybe Bruce wouldn't have made Jason put on that mask, put his life at risk.
Dick was to blame for...everything.

And in a small way, he felt like being captured and tortured by Deathstroke was his punishment, that he deserved every hit, cut and kick.
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Deathstroke continued to stab, hit, and punched Dick. Leaving multiple cuts and bruises upon his body. Dick had a few broken ribs that hurt every time he breathed.

Slade was breaking Dick to his fullest so he could rebuild him up stronger and better than before.

The moment he laid eyes upon The Batman's bird something in him clicked, he wanted him all to himself. He wanted that well trained, talented, energized bird to be his and he was going to get what he wanted no matter what or how long he wanted.
Batman's baby bird was going to be his.

It took him sometime, but he eventually did figure out both Batman's and Robin/Nightwing's secret identities out.
Along with discovering the little birdy's name, he discovered a deep and dark connection to him and The Court of Owls and Deathstroke wasn't the only one interested in the boy.
The shadows and The owls both kept a watchful eye on him.

Slade watched Richard, they were so much alike he thought and he couldn't wait to break him farther and take what was his.
He had so many plans for this broken bird before him and he was just getting started.
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Dick slowly began to pry is heavy eyelids open and glanced around the room. He could tell that he was alone and a small bit of relief washed over him.

His eyes threaten to close again but he forced them open and looked around the room. His eyes slowly landed upon a bucket in the middle of the room and he had no idea what that was for. He saw the tray full of knifes and needles which he was now all too familiar with.

There was a loud ringing in his ears, causing the massive headache in his head to pound louder. He winced as he titled his head back and saw the chains against his wrists, suspending him up in the air.

The tips of his big toes just barely brushed against the cool, wet ground below him.

Dick could feel the burning from all of the cuts he has received upon his body. He could feel his skin pulsing as his warm blood ran from his body, leaving him cold and freezing.
He was just left in his boxers just hanging there powerless awaiting for Deathstroke's return.
His return to punish Dick some more.

He glanced down slightly at his chest and could see the burnt shape of the letter 'S' there, marking him forever as Slade's.

Dick moaned a bit in pain as he moved his wrists. He couldn't feel his hands and fingers and it was probably due to him being hung up like this for gods know how many hours.
A sharp pain radiated through him when he twisted his wrists, trying to regain feeling in his hands. Hr looked up and could see how red his wrists were and the blood that coated them. The blood was from when he was strapped down and he thrashed uncontrollably around due to the fear toxin in his blood that ravished his mind.

Dick looked over at the tray full of weapons and tools of torture and so badly wish he could get his hands on one of those blades and drive in down and deep into his wrists and cut.

Allowing his a release, an escape for this hell hole, an escape from....everything because the world and everyone would be so much better with him gone.