Forgotten Bonds

Twenty-Four - A Shadow of a Need

January 23rd, 2009. Friday, 8:00 am. 

Breakfast was a little later that morning. Wintergreen insisted that they wait for Slade, so wait they did. Dick didn't think anything of it, but when Slade entered the kitchen, Dick noticed a major difference. 

"Where are you going?" asked Dick automatically, staring at the change of clothing. While Slade normally wore every day black slacks and a button up collar shirt – except when sparring – this morning he was wearing his grey, armored Kevlar suit. What was going on? 

"Contract," said Slade, sitting down at the table. Wintergreen was already in motion, dishing out scoops of scrambled eggs onto everyone's plates. Dick blinked, a little glimmer of hope entering his chest. Maybe Slade would let him come. 

"Ca–can I come?" 

"No, you may not," said Slade in an even tone, yet there was a hint of amusement in his voice. Disappointment now took the place of hope. 

"But why not? I won't run away," protested Dick. 

Dick was a little surprised by his words, but he found them to be the truth. He wouldn't run away, not any more. Even if Slade opened the front door, Dick would have a very hard time deciding what to do next. It was shocking and confusing to his system, but at the same time he ignored what his current truth fully meant. Once again, he was overcome with the wish that the two of them were just normal people, instead of that awful black and white line that always seemed to separate them wider than the largest chasm. 

Slade gave him a skeptical look. 

"If you don't believe me, then just do something so I can't run away," said Dick, hoping to convince the man to let him come along. To leave this place on a mission would be an amazing treat after so many months of being cooped up inside. 

"I don't need any external device to keep you at my side when my own two hands can do that very well, thank you," said Slade with a dry smirk. "But that's not the issue. This contract is above your level right now." 

"Oh, come on," protested Dick, feeling annoyed at the sound of that. "I've been training all this time. You always say how much I've improved. Why can't I come? I haven't been outside in months." 

Slade's grey blue eye turned dark. 

"A mafia boss is threatening a CEO's family, numerous families in fact. Thus, the client has requested that I take care of his 'pest problem'. In layman's terms: I am going to take a gun and shoot him." 

Dick's mouth went dry. He managed to swallow finally. 

"This job requires two things; two things you haven't overcome," said Slade, that grey blue eye glinting with darkness. "Guns and killing." 

Dick's mouth couldn't go drier at that moment. He couldn't even swallow now; feeling thoroughly and completely disconcerted. He didn't like the thought of Slade killing anyone. What was even stranger was that it wasn't just the fact that he didn't like anyone killing someone else, it was that he didn't like Slade killing anyone. Why couldn't the man choose a different line of work? And why'd he have to go up against a mafia boss of all people? Even Batman knew to be careful around such treacherous people. 

"Why do you have to go?" asked Dick in a whisper, dropping his head down and avoiding the man's hardened gaze. 

"Why...?" 

Dick looked up to see the man's expression. Slade seemed completely caught off guard by the question. There was a moment where the man only observed Dick with a slightly widened eye. Then, it hardened quickly.