An alternative version to the last fic, because Blizzardwing47 is amazing at giving me crack ideas. 

It's based on megamind :D

"and you're sure this is-"

"Slade, if you ask me one more time if I'm sure this was one of his safe houses I will put you back in the car and you can sit there like a kid put in time out."

Slade held his hands up in surrender, following Wintergreen into the safe house.

Since he'd taken Luthor out he'd started breaking his business into pieces and destroying it. There was something strange under the name Argus and Slade had no idea what it was, and so many of the files were encrypted beyond Slade or Wintergreen's ability to decrypt. However Slade had found Dick's name somewhere in their, and considering the fact that Dick was currently dead- hence Slade having killed Luthor in the first place- both he and Wintergreen assumed Dick must have been doing some kind of investigation prior to his death. Luthor must have made note of it, likely would have tried to get Dick of his tail, but circumstance had handed him a perfect chance to just kill him instead.

So. Wintergreen tracked down a recent safe house, and they were going to start looking for Dick's files to sort through what he had on Luthor.

Slade let Wintergreen do his own thing, the two of them separating as they sorted through the objects in the house.

Sitting on the book shelf were two escrima sticks. Slade reached out and picked them up, staring at the worn grip, transfixed.

It was a common assumption that death of a loved one made you realise everything unfinished between yourself and that loved one. In Slade's case, it made him realise that he should have stopped pretending his emotions didn't exist a long time ago. He wasn't just mourning Dick; he was also mourning the relationship the two of them could have had if Slade had just taken the jump and offered Dick a place in his family. Rose seemed to assume he was already her surrogate older brother, but without actually saying anything Slade had left Dick in a limbo of his own making.

Wintergreen sighed, watching Slade hold the escrima sticks reverently, "you're not taking them with you."

Slade opened his mouth to argue, but swallowed it down and put the sticks back where he'd found them.

After a while Wintergreen announced, "Slade, look at this."

Slade walked over to him, standing in the kitchen.

Wintergreen looked him up and down, "where'd you find that hoodie?"

"it's mine now."

Wintergreen pinched the bridge of his nose but didn't comment further. he pointed to a glass on the bench, "this glass has ice cubes in it."

"yes, that's what happens when water gets cold."

"no, that's not- Slade, is the depressive state beginning to kill your brain cells?"

"excuse me?"

"look, don't you think it's odd the ice hasn't melted yet?"

"one of life's great mysteries," Slade said, already turning to go look at something else, but he froze when he saw the person standing in the lounge area of the apartment.

"Slade it means someone else is here you idiot-"

Slade grabbed Wintergreen by the chin and turned his head.

"is that my hoodie?" Dick asked.

"you're alive!" Slade and Wintergreen said in unison.

Dick gave an awkward smile, "I'm alive?"

"But you- there was a funeral?" Wintergreen was standing with eyes wide, jaw almost agape.

"are you a ghost?" Slade asked, well aware that it wouldn't be the weirdest thing he'd ever seen.

"There had better be a damn good explanation for this," Wintergreen hissed while Slade took slow steps closer to Dick.

He poked him in the chest, Dick rocked backwards and then came back to his balanced stance, one eyebrow raised. Slade caressed the slight bit of afternoon shadow on Dick's jaw.

"speak apparition," Slade said.

Dick looked Slade up and down, incredulous, he took Slade's hand and pushed it away from his face. He said, slowly, slightly concerned, "what are you doing here?"

"we were going to look through your files, we were looking for something you might have on Luthor," Wintergreen said while Slade continued to stare.

Dick physically cringed at the name.

"Grayson," Wintergreen said, "explain. Now."

Dick launched into the briefest explanation he could manage of the situation- Luthor sort of killing him but not quite, Bruce making him stay dead, infiltrating Spyral, everything else.

"And that's it." Dick said with a sigh, "can I get my hoodie back?"

Slade looked insulted, zipping up the hoodie and stuffing his hands in the pockets.

"really, Slade?" Dick said with an annoyed eyebrow raise.

"look, there are more important things to be angry about," Slade said, "like for instance: Bruce is an asshole and he should have never forced you into this."

"without you Rose has been left with just him," Wintergreen said, gesturing at Slade, "no offense."

"no I'm with you."

"I'm- I'm sorry, but I had to," Dick said, "there was no one else who could-"

"no, kid, stop," Slade said, taking him by the shoulders, "we can argue over what parts of this are your fault and what parts are Bruce's A+ parenting later. Right now we've got a spy agency to destroy."

"and I need to see Rose."