Winging Death

A Game Of Chess

Dick heard the gunshot and it took him a second to register what must have happened the other side of that door. The scream that left his throat was even more raw than those he had let out on that table.

He heard the body being dragged away as he threw himself against the door, cursing out Slade with everything left in his body. It never gave. All that he accomplished was bruising up the right half of his body. He eventually gave up, collapsing on his side of the door as tears began to fall down his face. He knew he loved him, knew past whatever Psimon had done to him that Jason loved him to. He knew in that moment that whatever Psimon and Slade had done hadn't broken him forever. And he knew that when Slade came in to break him back into the mold they had begun that he wasn't going down without a fight. 

He moved back over to the bed once his face had cleared and sat as he had been before. He wasn't getting out of here until Slade wanted him to. But Slade wanted to break him. He would make sure of one of two things. Dick would either witness Jason die. Or Dick would be forced to be the reason Jason dies. He had done this dance with him for years, he had learnt a new trick with Psimon, but had he closed that avenue the moment he killed the mentalist. 

It was amazing the patience that Dick could find in himself when he had a purpose. When he had a role. Slade didn't know what Psimon had done to him, didn't know if he'd be fragile or not. It was time to play his weaknesses. He lay down on the bed curling in on himself so that the camera couldn't see his face and waited for Slade to make his move.

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Dick had cramp all over by the time the door was opened again. He pretended not to notice, pretended to be completely broken as he heard Wintergreen's footsteps move over to him.

"I brought you dinner," Wintergreen said, "I'll leave it on the side for you. It's just a Beef Pot Roast, nothing fancy unfortunately," He still didn't respond as he heard the dish get put down, "I'm sorry about Jason, truly."

This time Dick looked up at Wintergreen, making sure to keep any of his plan from his face. He was broken, complacent, the perfect apprentice for Deathstroke. 

"I wasn't aware of what Mister Wilson had planned to do with him," Wintergreen continued as he analysed Dick's response, he was just as smart as Slade was and he had to get them both in the bag.

"Is-" Dick made sure he caught himself on his words, his voice raw from the disuse after the screaming helping to make it seem more broken, "Is he still alive?"

"He's alive," Dick slowly, slowly moved his eyes up to see Slade in the doorway, a smirk on his face as Dick quickly averted his eyes downwards, "But take this as a lesson. I have him locked up, you do anything to disobey me he will suffer for it."

"Yes, sir," The vigilante got out, still not looking up.

Dick could feel the worry of Wintergreen as he was sent out of the room and Slade came in, "Psimon started off on you well," He felt Slade's hand under his chin and didn't fight when he lifted Dick's head to look at him, the younger making sure to keep his eyes away from the mercenary's, no sign of fighting back, "But it seemed the true answer had been under my nose the entire time," He dropped Dick's head and let gravity take it, Dick fighting to ignore the pain as his chin hit his chest, causing him to bite his tongue, "Eat. Then meet me in the training room in half an hour. It's time we do this properly."

Dick didn't say anything, even as it burned at him to ask where Jason was, he knew that if he said a word out of line he would be made. So he stayed silent as the mercenary closed the door, made a show of waiting before he went to the food and ate slowly.

Maybe eating was a risk, it would show that he wasn't as broken as Slade might have thought; to have the effort to eat, but Dick needed his strength if he was going to take him down. Plus, if he thought about it so much he had to ask he could always say he was just following orders. And if that failed, well, hopefully the training he had been doing would be able to come to use.