DC One Shots (Mainly Dick Grayson)

I've Killed Very Many Fathers, You'll Have to be More Specific

Whumptober 2021- day seventeen
Field care 101
'Please don't move', haemorrhage, dread

Nightwing is kidnapped by an enemy of Deathstroke because they've noticed the two teaming up a few times- enough times to think they must at least be friends. However, unfortunately, they're a bit more than that, so they basically just signed their death warrant.

title from the absolutely iconic line Darth Vader gave to Luke in one of the comics. It is rivalled only by 'you're surrounded!' 'All I am surrounded by is fear. and dead men'.
maybe I should make fics of Slade inspired by Vader lmao.

Slade's blood runs cold when he answers the phone.

It's 6:30 on a Tuesday night, he's in the apartment he shares with Dick. Except Dick hasn't been home since the night before, when he left for patrol.

And yeah, he trusts Dick and knows that Dick can take care of himself. But there was no note, no message, no phone call, and if Dick was going to drop off the radar for a day he'd give Slade a heads up. Especially because Dick knows that Slade has been dealing with some particularly difficult assassins trying to take him out as of late, and he doesn't need the stress of worrying about Dick's well being on top of that.

(you need to be less protective; Dick would say, I'll be fine. I'm always fine. I'm not leaving you any time soon, Slade)

He'd been trying to get a hold of Dick all day, and after that failed he went out and tracked his patrol route through Bludhaven. Nothing was amiss.

And now his phone rings, the number not in his contacts list, and he picks it up with a short and harsh, "talk."

"Slade."

It's Dick's voice, and it's pained and strained and crackling over the line, partially because of the connection and partially because it sounds close to breaking.

"Dick?" the name hisses out of him without conscious thought, and it's only afterwards that he considers if Dick is still in costume. He can't find it in himself to care about the possibility that he's dropped his name, anyone around is going to die painfully at the end of his sword once he gets there. It all catches up quickly, the dots connecting. Dick's been injured. Kidnapped? It's likely. "where are you?"

There's a heavy breath on the other end of the line, and Dick says, "The coordinates are being sent to this number now."

Slade's grip on the phone is tight, "Who has you?"

"Slade it's-"

The words are cut off and the phone fills with the sound of movement, air rushing past the audio input, and in the background, Slade hears a slap, and Dick's voice in a high-pitched pained sound, and someone barks, "read off the script."

"they're giving you five hours. Come alone."

"Tell them to let me talk to their boss," Slade hissed, "I want to give me threats directly to them."

There are sounds in the background that Slade can't decipher, then, "I think that's a no."

"Hold tight," Slade said, "and start writing your hero monologue about letting people live because I'm putting a bullet through every head except yours once I'm there."

Slade expects a how romantic, or perhaps a this is why you need anger management therapy, he gets nothing, just the beep of the call ending, and it hikes his already high level of rage up another 100%.