Whumptober 2021- day fifteen
Feed a cold, starve a fever
Delirium, fever dreams, bees

Dick gets hit with Ivy's latest pollen, and Slade looks after him.
Before this, Slade had never heard the name 'Cataline Flores'.

References to past Rape/non-con and dub-con, read at your own risk. 

"I'm fine," Dick repeated for the umpteenth time, batting Alfred's hands away, "anything else you guys need me for?"

Bruce shook his head then offered a farewell before he headed for the med bay, where Steph and Damian were waiting for Alfred. Tim gave Dick a quick hug, and Dick forced himself not to shudder at the contact.

Maybe he hadn't quite managed to avoid the pollen.

Ivy had hit Steph and Damian. Dick had been close, but he'd got his rebreather on quick. He'd admitted that he'd smelt the pollen, which was enough to make Alfred want to check him over, but he was fine. And he'd much prefer to go home than stay in the med bay.

Bruce had asked for him to assist with taking ivy down. Jason, Babs, Cass and Duke were all out of town, so he wanted another set of hands. The case had taken almost two weeks before the inevitable take down, and he and Bruce had started grating on each other about halfway in. It didn't help that Damian was still leaning towards Dick's leadership before Bruce's. Two years after being Damian's batman and he was still reacting to him first, looking for him to give the orders.

So yeah, he wanted to get home.

"Master Dick, at least let me check you over," Alfred said, following him towards his bike, "If you were exposed at all to the pollen-"

"I wasn't, Alf," Dick said, shooting him a smile in an attempt at calming him. Alfred seemed to see almost through it, and Dick wasn't surprised, the smile was strained with exhaustion. "I'll be fine, I'm fine, no effects."

"It could be late-onset," Alfred said, "let me check your blood for it, if it starts acting halfway to Bludhaven you could run yourself off the road."

"I'll stay in Gotham," Dick relented, "I've got a safe house, I'll stay there, if I start feeling ill or disoriented I'll call you immediately."

Alfred huffed, but relented, and allowed Dick to climb onto his bike.

Dick peeled out of the bat cave, taking a breath of air once he was out, and opened a line to Slade.

"I'm heading to my Gotham safe house," he said, "I'll be home tomorrow."

"I'll start driving."

"You don't have to-"

"But I want to."

Dick huffed a laugh, unable to truly argue because he did want to see him, "I'll see you in around an hour then."

He focused on the road, swerving through the streets with familiar ease. There were puddles in the potholes and the clouds hung heavy over the city threateningly. The breeze felt like needles but he blocked it out and collapsed on the couch of his safe house.

He managed to force himself up and to the bathroom after fifteen minutes of couch time. He stripped off his suit as he waited for the water from the shower to warm up. Standing naked in the room made his hairs stand on end and shivered. Maybe enough of the pollen had hit to make him a little sensitive. He could deal with that.

Once the water was warm enough he ducked under it. he flinched out of the spray almost immediately, the water felt like it was pummelling his skin. He pressed himself against the wall as he shook, breathing through the pain. His back pulsed with heat and the memory of the touch.

Some slight side effects then. Nothing major. He was fine.

He took a cloth and held it under the water, biting on his lip as his hand flared up in pain. He brushed the cloth along his skin, flinching at the feeling of the fibres scraping along his skin. he held out for as long as it took to make him feel less sweat-coated, then turned the water off and wrapped a towel around him.

The same course feeling of the fibres was present, so he dried himself down quickly and dug an old hoodie and sweatpants out of the dresser in the bedroom.

He collapsed on the bed; heavy muscles weighed down with exhaustion.

Slade had the key to Dick's Gotham safe house, so he came in through the front door.

He shucked off his jacket, the shoulders dark with water from the weather outside. Inside, he could barely hear it, still only light droplets, but he expected it to get worse.

He could hear Dick's breathing and his heartbeat, a sound that had become comforting since they'd started seeing each other. He followed the sound into the bedroom and found Dick curled up in a ball in the middle of the mattress.

Slade frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. He settled a hand on Dick's shoulder and he flinched under his touch.

"Dick?"

Dick whined, low and pained, curling in on himself even tighter.

Slade's worry skyrocketed, "you're injured?" what the hell was that family of his thinking, letting him drive off on his own when he was injured?

Dick didn't answer but he uncurled slightly so he could tug himself away from Slade to the other side of the bed.

Slade followed him, sighing in annoyance as he got hold of Dick's biceps and pulled him closer, turning Dick over so he could get a look at him.

Dick thrashed in his arms, yelping and jerking, trying to fight out of Slade's grip. He let go, and Dick pushed himself into the headboard, arms shaking.

Slade held his hands out in a placating gesture, "easy, just breathe. Talk to me, Dick."

Dick let out a high pitched pained sound.

"where are you hurt?"

Dick shook his head, latching his shaking hands around himself. It took a while, but he eventually managed to get out, "pollen."

"Ivy?"

Dick nodded.

"You don't have antidotes for that here, do you?" Slade asked.

Dick shook his head. "gotta... ride it out."

Slade wanted to come up with as many possible ways where Dick didn't have to spend the next few hours hyped up on some kind of pollen, but when he opened his mouth to try and offer them Dick only shook his head. He trusted him enough to know what was and wasn't possible and what the best solution was, so he resigned himself to just having to care for Dick in this state.

"It hurts when I touch you?" Slade asked, just to clarify.

Dick nodded. But then shook his head. "not you."

Slade frowned, "fill me in, kid, what hurts?"

"touch. But you..." Dick frowned, "I think... skin contact is... different."

"how's your breathing?"

Dick swallowed, one hand trailing up to his throat, "feels sore."

"the pollen might be swelling anywhere it touched. If it starts getting hard to breathe, tell me."

Dick nodded.

"How is skin contact different?"

Dick held one hand out and Slade slid his own hand in. Dick flinched, but he held back, interlocking their fingers. He was shaking.

"let go if it hurts," Slade said after Dick refused to let him go.

"doesn't... hurt," Dick stared at their hands, "just feels like a lot."

"sensitive."

Dick nodded. He was sweating, his face pale.

"I'm gonna get you some water, okay?" Slade said, standing.

He waited for Dick to respond, but he didn't. he looked distracted, staring into the distance, swaying slightly. Slade repeated the question and Dick nodded after a few moments.

When he turned from the kitchen, water bottle in hand, he found Dick leaning against the wall of the bedroom doorway. He was collapsed against it, staring at the ground, his breathing laboured. He looked a little out of it.

"Hey," Slade said, keeping his voice low and soft, "how about you stay in bed, okay?"

Dick looked up when he heard him, and he reached his hands out once Slade was within arm's length. Slade avoided the touch, not wanting to inadvertently hurt him. Dick whined when he did so, leaning into the doorframe as his knees shook.

Slade sighed and wound one arm around his torso, and Dick winced but leaned into him, latching his arms around him and burying his face in the crook of Slade's shoulder. It made it a bit difficult for Slade to guide him to the bed but he managed it. he put the water bottle on the bedside table and laid Dick out on the bed.

When he let him go Dick was still clinging to him, and Slade had to pull his hands away. Dick curled in on himself, shivering, and Slade sat on the edge of the bed. He unscrewed the water bottle's lid and helped Dick sit up. Dick wrapped himself around Slade's arm and hugged it to him, sighing in content.

It would be funny to tell Dick about once he was in his right mind, but now it just made Slade worried for what he was feeling to make him crave touch so much after having said it felt painful before.

He'd said Slade touching him was different, that it was a lot but not painful. Slade had assumed it was sensitivity, now it seemed more like extreme touch starvation. Now that Dick had broken past the painful stage of sudden touch he was melting into it.

Slade cupped him by the cheeks, pulling him away enough that he could get the water bottle to his lips. He blinked at it, drowsily and confused, but when Slade told him to drink he dropped his jaw obediently, letting Slade tip the water into his mouth and then swallowing it down obediently.

This seemed more familiar, more akin to Ivy's usual effects. She must have changed her formula to undermine the bat's antidotes. It got the same eventual reaction just had a few different beginning symptoms.

Dick whined when Slade moved away to return the bottle to the nightstand, and he latched onto him before he could stand again. At least he wasn't trying anything sexual, that's usually where Ivy's pollens ended up, for now, he seemed to just want to be held.

Slade was going to have a shower, but it looked like Dick would follow him into the bathroom in his current state, and with the pollen muddling his mind seeing Slade naked could get him to finally succumb to that effect. For now, he was just delirious and in need of a hug.

And sure, Ivy's pollens usually stopped having an effect after a quick fuck, but Slade would not lay a hand on Dick in that way when he was in this state. So they'd just have to ride it out.

He took off his shoes, socks and jacket, Dick watching him with as much concentration he could muster whilst in his state. He laid on the bed beside him and Dick latched onto him immediately, pressing his face into Slade's chest and sliding his hands under his shirt. Slade stiffened, expecting it to escalate, but Dick seemed to just want the skin contact. He tangled his feet in Slade's and went limp in his grasp, his laboured breathing evening out as he leaned into Slade's touch.

Slade held him back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, and let himself get comfortable.

He was cold.

The chill felt like daggers, like needles pressing under his skin and filling him with cold liquid that ran through his veins, seeped into his heart.

Where was... there was someone with him, he swore he remembered, someone who was warm and was holding him and made everything feel right.

The bed was empty, so painfully empty, and he clenched his hands in the sheets as the cold sunk into him.

It was raining outside. He thought. It was dark, that much he could tell from the window, and he couldn't see droplets on the glass, but he swore he heard rain. It was a thudding sound, heavy, constant, repetitive, and he could see it behind his eyes when he closed them. Could see it burnt into his eyelids. Rain landing hard on a rooftop, puddles forming under him, water on his skin, skin, skin, so much skin, the wind brushing against it and chilling him to the bones, the cement pressing into his back and soaking his skin, skin, skin, so much skin, he could feel it touching him, someone touching him-

He shuddered a breath in as he felt it all, so real, so real, so real because it was real. Again, again, it was happening again, his vision blurred and everything feeling so far away and the cement under him and the rain, rain, rain. Her breath hot against his ear, mi Amor, the rain so loud, and maybe she hadn't heard him, maybe the rain was drowning him out, stop, drowning him out, hush, drowning him, hands on his skin, water on his skin, cold, cold, cold, so cold-

A hand settled on his shoulder and flinched, curling up. Not cement, not cement, not cement but sheets, a bed, did she take him to her bed? No, no, no, he didn't want-

"please."

"Dick-"

He sobbed when they touched him again, the feeling so much, so much, too much, he didn't want-

"Dick, hey, breathe." The touch was gone. Gone, gone, gone, he was so cold.

He couldn't breathe, his throat felt swollen, and every time he inhaled he smelt something sweet, something wrong, and it made him think of her, her perfume, her skin pressed against his, her breath in his ear, mi Amor, Collado.

He whined; the sound broken as it was drawn out of him. he couldn't stop her then, the rain had drowned him, drowned him, drowned him, he couldn't stop her now, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't take it again, not like this, because everything felt like so much, so much, so much cold, and rain, and the sheets were like a death sentence.

But no one was touching him, and it was a double-edged sword because he was so cold, and the absence of anything was final. He writhed on the bed, clinging to the sheets, something inside him hurt, and everything was too much, but he wanted someone to hold him because he was falling apart- he had fallen apart, when she'd broken him to pieces and left him to dissolve into the puddles of water on the rooftop, sharps of jagged glass crushed so small they faded away to nothing and were washed into the drains and left to die, frozen and alone and with nothing to put them back together.

He didn't know what he wanted, he didn't know what would fix this and that just made it so much worse.

Dick was going to hurt himself if he kept up like this.

Slade didn't want to but he had to. He looked through Dick's gear and dug out some handcuffs.

Dick was sobbing and shaking and his breaths were erratic, his chest heaving with it, and he was flailing as he writhed on the bed. Slade braced himself, reminding himself that even though touching Dick would hurt it was better for him to do this.

Dick shrieked when Slade held him down. and Slade had to fight with himself every step of the way as he cuffed Dick's hands to the headboard, and then his ankles to the bedframe.

After that, he hunted for Dick's phone.

He knew the password, and he stared at the contacts list for a good ten minutes before he could decide on a number.

Alfred Pennyworth didn't have a contact specifically, but there was a Wayne Manor number and then a Wayne Manor mobile, and Slade had a good feeling who's that was.

To the old man's credit, he picked up on the second ring. Slade wondered if he'd been waiting for the call.

"Master Dick-"

"no." Slade said, hoping his impression of the man was right, "but he needs you. I'm assuming you have an antidote for Ivy's newest pollen."

Pennyworth was silent a moment, and Slade had heard enough of the man to know it wasn't shock but calculation.

"He is in his Gotham safe house?" Pennyworth eventually asked.

"Yes," Slade said.

"I will be there in fifteen minutes."

"I can come and retrieve the antidote-"

"I will be there. In fifteen. Minutes."

"Okay."

Slade hung up and pocketed the phone, then headed down the hall back to the bedroom.

Dick wasn't moving as much anymore, now he was more just twisting occasionally. He winced at random moments, eyes fixed on the empty space before his face, and jerked in the cuffs every now and then. He sat on the chair in the corner of the room. Slade refused to admit that he got nervous, but as he watched Dick suffer through it and waited for Pennyworth to arrive he felt the need to move. There was restless energy he couldn't let out in any way except bouncing his knee.

Eventually, Dick devolved into stillness, but something about it made Slade even more worried than when he was moving. He went limp in the cuffs, eyes screwed shut and his head turned to the side. He let out soft noises now and then, high pitched and breathless, and Slade could see his lips moving with mouthed unvoiced words.

A knock came from the door at exactly fifteen minutes, and Slade sprang up from the chair.

Pennyworth looked him up and down, but either he decided that Slade wasn't a threat or that Dick was more important than any potential threat Slade posed.

"I had to restrain him," Slade said as he let Pennyworth in, "he's relaxed now but he was going to hurt himself."

Pennyworth nodded and gave Slade no other attention, hurrying down the hallway ad into Dick's bedroom. He was holding a small black case, which he put on the corner of the bed and opened to reveal a syringe and a bottle. Slade watched him measure the antidote out of the corner of his eye as he freed one of Dick's arms from the cuffs. When he sat next to him Dick flinched, edging away from Pennyworth.

He didn't let it dishearten him, instead just took Dick's arm and rolled up his sleeve.

Dick flinched at the contact and tugged his arm away, "no," his voice was broken and soft, and he shook his head as Slade sat on the mattress so he could grab his arm and hold it out for Pennyworth. Slade held him by the wrist, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into his bicep, and Pennyworth lined up the syringe. Dick let out a small sob as he gave in and let the butler insert it, and he screwed his eyes shut as he continued to quietly say, "no, please, I don't- please."

Pennyworth made no fuss as he removed the syringe, swiping away the bead of blood it left behind with a cotton bud and then placing a small circular bandage over the injection site. He pulled Dick's sleeve back down and stood.

"The effects should begin to lessen after a few minutes, he'll fall asleep soon. Aside from a headache, he should be fine in the morning, if not call me again."

Slade looked at Pennyworth with a raised eyebrow, "no questions?"

Pennyworth glanced between Dick and Slade, then said, "I will ask him my questions when he's had time to rest." He packed away the black case he came with and then said over his shoulder as he left, "take care of him."

Slade nodded, even though Pennyworth couldn't see it, and turned back to Dick. He wasn't crying again, just lying limp on the bed as if he'd given up on fighting whatever pain the pollen had caused. Slade undid the remaining three cuffs as carefully as he could, trying not to touch Dick in case he was still sensitive.

He unscrewed the cap on the water bottle still sitting on the bedside table. He helped Dick sit up, touches hesitant and soft, but Dick didn't seem to have it in him to fight anymore past a few winces. He held the bottle to Dick's lips, but they remained closed.

"Come on, Dick, just a sip," Slade said.

Dick winced away from the bottle, and croaked, "Please Cat, I don't- just stop."

"it's me, Dick, it's Slade," he said, putting the bottle back on the bedside table, "you're okay, you're safe."

Dick looked confused, and he swayed a little as he stayed sitting up. Slade helped him to lie down, and Dick took his wrist in his hands, staring at it with a furrowed brow.

Slade let him do what he wanted, watching as Dick traced the calluses on his hand.

"You wanna get some sleep?" Slade asked,

Dick looked up at him, staring into his eye, "Slade?"

"Yeah, it's me," Slade said.

Dick threaded his fingers through Slade's, and Slade held him back. He stared into the open space, confused, "I was... the roof... she had me on the roof, where did she go?"

It was Slade's turn to be confused, "who kid?"

"Cat," Dick said.

"Catwoman?"

"No," Dick looked at him like he was an idiot, but there was still a delirious and confused edge to his gaze that removed the heat from the stare, "Catalina. She was... she had me on the roof... it was raining, she was..." he looked towards the window.

Slade had no idea what the appropriate response to this was, but talking seemed to be a good sign, there was no way coherency was a bad thing, so he asked, "what was she doing kid?"

Dick frowned again and looked down at himself. His hoodie had ridden up thanks to his early movement, and he traced a finger on the sliver of skin between the band of his sweatpants and the bottom of the hoodie.

Slade followed the movement, "who's Catalina?"

"Flores. Catalina Flores." He spread his fingers and pressed his hand to his chest, looking almost transfixed, "where'd she go?"

"She's not here, little bird."

Dick blinked at the term of endearment, and he mouthed the words little bird, staring at his hand pressed on his chest.

"but she was here, she was..." he blinked, looking almost dazed, "it was raining, she had me on the roof..."

At this point, he was talking himself in circles, and Slade wasn't sure how much of it was a stream of thought or conscious confusion. He lifted Dick's hand, the one still in his own, to his mouth and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles. Dick stared at him as he did so, an empty look in his eyes.

"oh," Dick said, struck with realisation, "that was years ago."

"what was?"

"when she raped me."

Slade went cold.

Dick laughed lightly, and he finally removed his hand from his chest. He rose it to Slade's face and drifted his knuckles along his cheek, brushing through the strands of his beard.

"You're a lot nicer to me than she was," he said, smiling as if it was funny, "ironic. You're the contract killer, she was supposed to be a hero. Maybe it's cause I was the one teaching her to be a hero- must've done it wrong. Heroes aren't supposed to shoot people."

"Dick-"

"I don't think I can blame her," Dick said, and he wasn't really looking at Slade anymore. There was pure exhaustion in his eyes, and he dropped his hand like it was too heavy to hold up. He grinned lazily, like it was some kind of inside joke, "I don't think she heard me say no."

Slade hadn't felt the need to throw up in years, but his gut was churning as he watched Dick laugh at his own expense.

"you know everyone says I talk too much," Dick said, "kind of ironic. Although she was telling me to be quiet even then, so maybe I need to take a hint. Maybe I just need to get rid of this." He clenched his hand around his throat, not enough to choke but enough to make Slade worried as he pinched at his Adam's apple as if he could pull out his voice box like it was a piece of a machine, "would probably make things easier for everyone."

Slade couldn't find words.

Dick's hand crashed back into the mattress once he was done clawing at his throat, and he looked at it with some kind of dejected fascination.

"Dick," Slade said, trying to find words, but he couldn't figure out what the fuck he could say in this situation that might not make things worse.

Dick blinked up at him. his voice was half-breath as he asked, "why are you here?"

"You breathed in Ivy's pollen," Slade said, relieved to finally have something easier to respond to, "I was looking after you."

Dick frowned at him, "why?"

"Because I love you," Slade said. The words had once been hard for him to say, and even now he didn't use them flippantly, but looking into Dick's eyes and finding only empty and dead exhaustion was terrifying him and he needed to remind Dick that he loved him, needed to make sure Dick remembered that.

Dick looked genuinely surprised before it melted off his face, "oh, I remember. Yes. That's nice." He shifted closer to Slade, watching him like he was waiting for something.

"You need sleep," Slade said.

"Is that a trick?"

"what do you mean?"

"sleep," Dick said, looking up at him, "Is that a trick to get me to be easy to overpower?"

Slade blinked at him, "what?"

"Cat used to like to wake me up that way," Dick said.

Slade's sense of dread was ever-present, "I'm not here to fuck you."

"oh," Dick said, and he sounded confused, "then why are you here?"

"I was looking after you."

"I'm fine. I don't need looking after."

"Dick-"

"You said you love me," Dick said, he lifted a hand to the hem of Slade's shirt, slipping his fingers under to press into his skin, "she did too. It's okay, I know what you mean-"

"No," Slade grabbed him by the wrist, "Dick, you need to sleep. You're not in your right mind."

"I don't understand."

"Ivy's pollen-"

"No. If you're not here for that then why are you here?"

"Because I love you," Slade repeated, hoping this time it would get through to him.

Dick looked up at him with that same empty confusion. If it weren't for the fact that he clearly needed Slade here to help him put himself back together, he'd already be tracking down whoever Catalina Flores was so he could put a bullet between her eyes.

Slade sighed, and Dick said, "I'm sorry."

Slade leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Dick followed him when he sat up, and he tried to kiss Slade back. Slade stopped him with a hand to his chest, and he pushed Dick back to the mattress gently. Dick seemed to take that message wrong, too, because he tilted his head to bare his neck for Slade and reached for the hem of his hoodie.

"No," Slade said, stopping him from taking it off.

"But- you-" he sat up when Slade stood from the bed, and he swung his legs over the side. He swayed when he stood, reaching for the dresser to balance himself.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch for the night," Slade said as he helped Dick back onto the bed. Dick was swaying again, staring at Slade in confusion. "get some rest, little bird."

Dick watched him go.

Once the door shut behind him Slade let himself react. He ran a hand down his face and let himself breathe, leaning against the wall as he tried to wrap his head around it all.

He laid out on the couch, and memories of Dick's empty eyes followed him into sleep.