Twenty-Nine - Dichotomy

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February 16th, 2009. Sunday, 6:41 am. 

Dick was lying in bed that morning. He had woken up before his alarm and did his morning routine. But he was too deep in thought to be ready to see if Slade and Wintergreen were awake. So, he fell back onto his bed to sort out his thoughts. 

The thoughts that were rising in his mind were beginning to startle him. He wasn't sure what to think any more. But they were so confusing to him, that he couldn't help but try to push them back into the far corners of his mind. 

But no matter how many times he tried, something incessant would flutter them forward again. It was as if the thoughts had a life of all their own, forcing their way forward to announce themselves and make themselves known to every section of his mind and soul. 

The thoughts were ridiculous, though; and Dick forced them back even more, trying his hardest to crush them down. He wasn't going to think those things. They were impossible. Something like that was impossible. There was no way something like that could ever happen. Besides, it wasn't like he was really feeling that way. 

After all, wasn't Dick in a situation that could never truly change in the way he wished? 

Finally, unable to handle his thoughts any longer, Dick made his way down the hallway to the kitchen; his bare feet padding lightly against the wooden floor. He stopped two feet from the entrance when he heard Slade and Wintergreen's voices, and he found himself quietly listening in on them. But he couldn't help it – what Wintergreen was saying completely perked his ears. 

"You should let Richard go with you. It'd be good for him." 

"No way." 

"Slade, I don't believe this. Wasn't this whole thing for him to become your apprentice? He can't really do that sitting at home, twiddling his thumbs." 

"He's not twiddling his thumbs; he's in training and I don't think he's ready." 

Dick's heart quickened. Ready? Ready for what? A mission? Was Slade really talking about a mission? Meaning, get out of the haunt? His heart began to pump excitedly. Dick ran his tongue over his dry lips. It'd been so long since he'd been outside. He'd be able to feel the warmth of the sun of his face and breathe in the fresh air. Plus, there'd be a change of pace, something exciting to do finally after so many months of just endless training that made life sometimes feel like a boarding school had kissed a boot camp. 

"Oh, please; you're not fooling me, Slade," scoffed Wintergreen. "He was ready since he got here. You're the one who's not ready." 

Now Dick's heart stopped. 

"That is ridiculous, Will; and you know it." 

Slade's holding back? But why? Dick couldn't understand why Slade wouldn't want him to help out on a mission. It just didn't seem normal. But then, Dick remembered and dawning realization poured through him. Was Slade worried that the same thing would happen to him like what had happened to his son, Grant? 

A soft, gentle smile slipped through Dick's face. Slade could protest it all he wanted, but it was obvious that this fact was true. He was worried or at least subconsciously so. And while it annoyed Dick to be treated like a glass figurine, since it was Slade, it just didn't seem to bother him as much. Slade knew of his abilities and praised Dick often for them. It wasn't that he didn't believe in Dick; it was the man's own worries that were holding him back. 

"Is it really?" drawled Wintergreen. "How does the saying go? 'The man doth protest too much, methinks.'"

Dick bit back a giggle. 

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