Whumptober 2021- day seven
My spidey-sense is tingling
Helplessness, numbness, blindness

Dick made a deal with Slade; M'Gaan would be able to impersonate him at the summit if Dick handed himself over.
He knows it's not going to go well.

there'll be a sequel to this one on day 20, but it'll likely be an explicit one. we'll see.

Dick took a deep breath, counting to ten in his head, then backwards from ten, then repeating it in at least five other languages. He was no less panicked when he was done but it was a way to stall.

He shouldn't have made this deal. He knew that from the beginning but he had to. There was no other way. They needed Deathstroke to be out of the way for the Summit so M'Gaan could impersonate him, and there was no way they could make that happen without a deal.

Kaldur had asked him how he'd managed it, what he'd offered Slade, Dick wasn't able to answer. he'd avoided it every time it came up. He couldn't lie to Kaldur, not when they'd started having... something between them. Maybe that something was one-sided but as Kaldur's undercover mission had progressed Dick had started to feel things and he couldn't destroy that by lying to Kaldur.

Slade had never tried to hide his interest in Dick. Even when Dick was a ten-year-old in traffic-light colours and shorts. If he was on a contract in Gotham his eyes followed Robin, if the team came across him he'd aim to fight with him, he'd started popping up in Bludhaven taking contracts below his pay grade since Dick made a home there as Nightwing.

To make a deal both sides had to want something that the other side could provide. The only thing the justice league could give Slade that was worth him betraying the light was...

Dick left his phone in his car. Condition number one of the deal was that Dick couldn't have a tracker on him or anything that could be tracked. Leaving his phone and wallet in his car meant someone could find it and find the place he and Slade met.

There wasn't much Dick could do to out-manoeuvre Slade. They were desperate and Slade knew it, and he piled on the conditions as much as Dick would allow before things fell entirely out of his favour and the deal became obviously unbalanced. The very nature of it was unbalanced, of course, but there were certain things Slade just couldn't realistically make Dick promise.

His shoes crunched on the gravel of the motel's parking lot. He locked his car and tossed the keys underneath it. he turned to the nearly empty lot, spying the vehicle he needed to approach.

A black SUV, BMW, hatchback, new shining wheels and an ordinary looking registration, polarised windows. Everything about it looked perfectly normal, just a little pricey. Leaning against the boot was Slade.

Dick's hands were shaking.

He walked up to him without Slade having to call him over. He could hear his heart thumping in his ears- Slade had enhanced hearing, he was probably delighting in his audible panic.

Slade raised an eyebrow, "I'm sure I don't have to go over our agreement again?"

Dick shook his head.

"Good," Slade stood straight from the car, looking Dick up and down with an appraising eye. He pulled out a syringe, and as he approached Dick couldn't stop himself from flinching. Slade must have noticed but didn't bother pointing it out, pressing the sharp end into his neck without pause, staying close to Dick while he waited for him to drop.

Dick tried to keep his breathing level, tried not to continue to panic as everything he was doing crashed into him full force.

He screwed his eyes shut as he felt the fogginess take over. He had to do this. A deal was a deal and if he didn't follow through his entire family was on Slade's radar for revenge.

He collapsed into Slade's arms, completely unconscious before Slade even had a chance to pick him up.

He woke up in a blank room.

There was a light set into the middle of the ceiling, a camera in the corner. He was on a bed, pushed into the corner opposite the camera. A toilet was below the camera, out of view for privacy (how nice of Slade) and the walls were made of panels of cement. Dick assumed one of them must open, but the grout of each panel all looked the same. From one wall to the next was about five steps.

Dick stood in the centre of the room, staring at the walls around him.

He would admit this was what he was expecting. A cell. Other than that? he didn't know what Slade wanted from him. He didn't know what Slade was planning. And he'd definitely had plenty of time to prepare by now, about four months since they made the deal, three since the summit. He knew nothing about what Slade intended and that fact alone made his panic double.

He sat on the bed, crossing his arms and trying every mental exercise he could think of. He went through old cases he could remember, he thought about some of the cases sitting at home that he might not get a chance to finish. He just had to wait until someone followed his trail and found him.

Slade would surely know that someone would come for Dick. Batman or Aqualad or someone. Dick was about to drop off the radar entirely, and as much as Slade's conditions meant he couldn't tell anyone about their deal or wear a tracker there was no way Slade could make it look like Dick was still going to work, patrolling Bludhaven, existing.

Whatever Slade could throw at him, he could handle it. Bruce would find him.

Slade didn't appear for many hours- or Dick thought it was many hours, there wasn't a clock and the light was artificial- so Dick bided time by doing some exercises and stretches.

When Slade did arrive it was through the cement panel in the left half of the wall opposite the bed. The panel slid open smoothly and didn't make a sound, closing with a click behind him. He had a plate of food covered by alfoil, which he put on the bed.

Dick waited expectantly, watching Slade closely.

"It's not poisoned, if you were wondering," Slade said, with a spark of amusement in his eye.

"Right," Dick said, "Because you'd resort to poisoning as a cause of death when I'm already locked in a cell at your mercy."

Slade's smile was half-smirk. He didn't deign to continue the conversation, turning and walking out.

Dick blinked, staring at his back before he disappeared, the panel clicking shut behind him. That was it? He brought food and then he was gone?

Dick didn't know how he felt about that.

A few hours after that Slade returned.

He held up a blindfold, "am I going to have to force this on you?"

Dick's entire body seized up at the idea of wearing a blindfold. He did not like losing his sight. It was something he'd hated since he was a kid and he didn't think he'd shake that any time soon.

But what was the alternative? Fighting Slade? Right, that'd go so well.

Slade took his silence as an invitation to step closer and tie it on. Dick panicked on instinct, flinching away and backing up till his legs hit the bed behind him. Slade grabbed his forearm in a tight hold and jerked him forwards till he could stand behind Dick. He wrapped the blindfold around his head before Dick could move any further, and then tightened it with a jerk. Dick got a hold of himself, getting his balance back, and took some deep breaths.

Slade held his forearm, lightly and without the roughness he'd used to tie the blindfold. He led him out of the room, the door shutting with a click behind them, and down a hallway.

Dick tried to keep track of where they were going so he could put together a mental map, but Slade was lead them in circles and taking way more turns than was probably necessary.

When he removed the blindfold Dick found himself in a large room. workout equipment and sparring gear was organised in the left corner and hung on the wall. The centre of the room was taken up by sparring mats. The right wall had several swords, daggers, assorted weapons that were hung like art pieces.

Slade threw some tape at him, and Dick looked up to find him wrapping his fists.

"We'll start with hand-to-hand, then I'll see how you do with a sword."

Dick blinked, staring at the tape in his hand. Slade rose an expectant eyebrow and he started wrapping his fists. There was no requirement in Slade's conditions that Dick behave and do as he was told once Slade had him, but if Slade was going to start throwing punches Dick may as well get himself ready to do the same.

"We're training?" He asked.

Slade shot him a grin that bordered on innuendo, "what'd you think we'd be doing?"

"We- I didn't...' Dick swallowed, looking away, "I didn't know what you wanted, just that you wanted me."

Slade chuckled, the sound half air, "I do, but that can come later."

Dick's face felt warm. That's not what he- surely Slade realised that's not what he meant. But. Shit. Later? He-

Dick's mind reeled as he tried to figure out how to feel and all the possible meanings Slade had.

He'd really fucked up with this deal, he was aware of that, he had been from the start. But if Slade wanted...

He felt a little sick at the idea and he couldn't help but think of the small little spark of something that he had felt for Kaldur.

Slade snapped his fingers, the sound echoing lightly around the room, "focus, Dick."

He finished wrapping his fists and looked Slade up and down, trying to guess how this would go.

"I'll make this simple," Slade said, standing with a relaxed stance, hands behind his back, "You gave yourself to me to save your team, but this doesn't have to be an unpleasant experience. I can take things away from you as easily as I can give them to you. Behave. I don't want to fight you every step of the way but I will beat you into submission if I have to."

Dick clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to say anything without thought when Slade had just made a statement like that. He had... theories, sure, about what Slade wanted from him.

"what do you want from me?" he asked after the silence had gone on too long.

"everything," Slade said, as if it were obvious and simple, "I want you."

Dick wanted to say something to that but the words evaporated once they reached his tongue. He just... didn't understand. He did but didn't. he understood what Slade was saying but the reason, the motive, it just wasn't there. There had to be more to this, Slade was lying somehow, hiding something.

Slade seemed to pick up on something in his expression, because he closed the gap between them, ghosting his fingers under Dick's chin. He tensed but didn't flinch away and Slade took that as consent and tipped his chin up.

"I want you by my side," he said, "do you understand?"

"I..." no, to be honest, he didn't. Batman didn't even want him by his side by the time Dick was in his late teens, Wally had died before Dick could run back to him and beg forgiveness, he couldn't think of a single relationship he hadn't ruined in some way- except Kaldur. He hadn't managed to fuck that up yet.

He was locked in his brain for too long, staring into Slade's eye in complete confusion. Slade leaned in, lips ghosting against Dick's-

Dick flinched away, and Slade removed his hand and stepped back as soon as he did so.

Dick swallowed, trying to breathe in time to calm his beating heart.

"Like I said," Slade said, "this doesn't have to be unpleasant for you. I won't touch you if you don't want me to."

Provided Dick behaved. Provided he did as he was told. Provided he let Slade slowly manipulate him and twist his head around until he developed Stockholm syndrome.

Slade let Dick pull himself together, then started the training session. Slade was a good teacher, Dick could admit that, but he didn't accept failure and he had no patience for dawdling. He was impressed by Dick's skill level with a blade but once he got an idea of what Dick could do he doubled down.

When they were done Slade blindfolded Dick again and put him back in his cell, where he collapsed onto the bed immediately.

He couldn't be sure of what the time actually was, even though the light turned off for a period of time for an artificial nighttime, but there was a definitive schedule.

Considering Slade's military background Dick assumed he probably went by the eight ratio rule, meaning the time the light spent off was probably around eight hours.

The light would switch on and Dick guessed there were about fifteen minutes of nothing and then Slade arrived with food and coffee. He'd stay while he drank his own coffee, starting a conversation and slowly drawing Dick into it. Then Slade left with the dishes and Dick sat awkwardly in his cell. After a while, Slade came back, blindfolded Dick and took him to the gym. The training sessions didn't let up, Slade's expectations were impossibly high, but Dick was perfectly happy to spend the time trying to land a punch on Slade's face.

They broke for lunch; Slade didn't bother taking Dick back to his cell for that. He disappeared and came back with food, poking Dick verbally till he finally gave in and talked with him. while the food settled Slade would go over other things. Sometimes it was languages, others it was old missions Slade brought and made Dick consider how he'd do it, once he brought in a computer and they went over hacking.

The lesson with computers had started with a warning about not attempting to contact anyone, Slade had set the device up so it was basically impossible anyway. the fact that he'd had a device in his hand made him hurt inside, regardless, as he was faced with his complete inability to escape. The gym was locked once Slade brought him in, and if he somehow managed to beat Slade in a fight while blindfolded then he still had to worry about where he was and what kind of backup measures Slade had.

And if he tried an outright escape, after the ample warning Slade had given, this entire situation could get much worse. He was better off biding time, slowly figuring things out, maybe Slade would even try to incentivise him and manipulate him by giving him information and fake depictions of trust.

After lunch and Slade's less physical lessons they'd do another training session and then Slade would put him back in his cell. Dinner came a while after that and then the light turned off for sleep.

It gave him a lot of time to think. He wondered if his friends were doing okay, dealing well with the loss of Wally. Something inside him felt like it had been cut off and cauterised ever since Wally died. On top of that, he wondered how Artemis and Kaldur were dealing with the awkward tension that had existed since the entire undercover mission was brought to light.

He wondered if Kaldur was looking for him yet. He'd disappeared, with no warning. Bruce might leave it a while before he started investigating, maybe believing he was blowing off steam or taking time to deal with his grief. Kaldur would know that he'd never do that. Part of Dick hoped that Kaldur had called him not long after Slade had taken him. He imagined a reality where Kaldur felt the same as Dick did and had called Dick, left messages, tried to get a hold of him because he cared and was worried about how Dick was dealing with everything.

Maybe Kaldur left it for a day or two and then went to Dick's apartment and found the scribbled note Dick had written when he and Slade made the deal, the one that had the address of the motel he had to go to and therefore couldn't forget. Maybe he'd gone to the place and found Dick's car, the keys discarded underneath, and started the search.

Maybe.

It was maybe after a week when Dick realised he really hated the fact that he had so much free time to think now. He wished he had books to read, or cases to go through, or something, but he refused to ask Slade for something.

The structure to the days made them all feel all the same, and they passed by in a blur. It took Slade less and less time to get Dick to talk to him each day, their conversations were growing casual, comfortable, and Dick was scared of how easy it was to forget the danger of Slade's presence.

It was easy to remember how much he hated this situation in training when Slade pushed and poked until Dick was left absolutely exhausted every day.

Dick woke up in the bed in his cell. The last thing he remembered was training with Slade.

He frowned into the darkness, sitting up silently. His muscles were aching, as per usual, and he was sweaty from sparring with Slade.

He remembered, after a few moments, that Slade had let him take a moment to breathe after he'd practically tripped over his own feet, and Dick had fallen asleep while he lay on the mats. Slade had carried him back to his cell and put him on the bed, and he hadn't woken till now, who knew how long later, in the dark.

That wasn't good. He hadn't found it easy to fall asleep around people since he was twelve, there was just too much chance of an attack if you went to sleep around others, regardless of whether or not you knew the people. It was a paranoia ingrained in him, thanks to Bruce, and it showed no signs of disappearing any time soon.

But he'd fallen asleep on the mats with Slade in the room with him.

He held in the panic creeping up his throat. Slade wanted to wear him down slowly, lull him with false kindness till Dick was eating out of his hand.

Bruce would find him. Bruce had to find him before that happened, he had to. He was Batman, he'd... he'd find a way.

A voice in the back of his head bitterly mumbled, he didn't find a way to find Jason fast enough. He didn't stomp the thought down fast enough, and he stared into the darkness as it took over his brain.

He wasn't strong enough to deny the fact that he was scared.