Befriending The Enemy

The Final Hour: Decision

Dick collapsed to his knees, the adrenaline leaving his body the minute he slumped back with his butt resting on his heels. Deathstroke was first to stop, turning off the motorcycle, kicking the stand down, and jumped off.

  "Grayson!" He shouted, dropping to a knee in front of him.

  Dick looked up at him, sweat still dripping down his face, mixed with blood. He put a relieved smile on his face. "I got out without help." Dick commented.

  Deathstroke couldn't help the smirk that formed on his lips. But when his eyes landed on the bloodied hands that were tucked into his stomach, he felt his heart drop. He grabbed for the hands, pulling them away to see the injury they hid.

  Dick pulled them back to his chest. "It's not my blood." He whispered.

  Deathstroke realized what this meant. He cursed under his breath just as Jason stepped into their vision. "Are you okay?" He asked.

  Dick couldn't help it. He let out a soft sob, dropping his head against Deathstroke's chest. "I killed them," he whispers. "I killed them, Deathstroke. I know... I know I didn't have a choice, but it still feels..." Dick pulled away from Deathstroke, holding up his hands. "The fear in that man's eyes when I... when I-"

  Gloved hands wrapped around his own bloodied ones, snapping Dick out of his downward spiral. He blinked the tears out of his eyes, meeting Deathstrokes gaze.

  "Let's get you out of here. You can tell me everything when we are alone." Deathstroke reached up to grab the cloth secured around his neck and unraveled it. He brought it down and started wiping the blood off of Dick's hands before the League squads got to him.

  Dick just stared at Deathstroke's hands, almost in a catatonic state from the shock of everything that had happened. It scared Deathstroke, seeing Dick so distraught over whatever went on in that building while he wasn't there to do anything. Dick had learned to kill from him, but Deathstroke never thought Dick would need to use it.

  "I still have the implants." Dick mumbled.

  Deathstroke nodded. "We have a plan for that. Bats informed me on the way over that if we cause a distraction, you could bust your way into that dumbasses computers and deactivate it." He explained, starting to wipe Dick's face free of the blood.

  Dick gulped. "Only if you come with me. I don't want to be alone."

  Deathstroke nodded, reaching behind Dick's head and bringing him in for a hug. "I'll take the heat from bats for those bodies." He whispered.

  Dick choked on a sob, wrapping his arms around Deathstroke. "Thank you."

  Deathstroke looked up at Jason, who seemed to be getting the picture of what happened. He made a silent gesture of zipping his lips and throwing the key away in a sarcastic gesture. Deathstroke couldn't help but roll his eyes.

  He let go of Dick and stood to his feet, offering his hand for Dick to take. Wiping his eyes with his blood-free hands, he grabbed a hold of it and stood, hissing at the pain his wound caused. He tried to ignore it, standing just shy of a bench. He limped over and sat down on the bench next to the motorcycles.

  "Where uh... where are the leagues?" Dick asked, using the different cloth that Jason had to tie his leg wound with. He stared at his hands as they tied the cloth, but he couldn't seem to get it tied, with his hands shaking so much.

  Deathstroke stepped in and instead, tied it for him as Dick brought his hands to his chest. He took a few deep breaths and tried to reassure himself, but he knew he was going to be feeling this for a minute.