Befriending The Enemy

Bonding Moment

Once Deathstroke pulled into the end of the tunnel, he immediately hopped out and opened the back door. Blood pooled out in the seats and if it wasnt for his laborious breathing, Dick would look dead. Deathstroke carefully pulled him out of the backseat, carrying him to the metal table. Once he placed him down, Deathstroke took off his helmet the harness and carefully took off the tactical armored top. He had to cut the hole where the arrow penetrated wider so he could remove the shirt.

Once it was off, Deathstroke grabbed the first aid kit and quickly got to work. He cleaned around the wound so he knew the damage he was looking at. It didnt look deep, but the amount of muscle and cartilage it damaged was unseen. Deathstroke sucked in a breath and quickly shoved a thick piece of wood into Dicks mouth. He held it there, gripping the base of the arrow he pulled fast.

Dick screamed, sitting up from the metal table. Thankfully biting down on the wood seemed to ease the pain but barely. Deathstroke grabbed Dicks shoulders, shoving him back down onto the table. Dick seemed to be awake now, eyeing Deathstroke.

"I dont have time to numb the wound. You will feel it." He said, already starting to examine it. "Good news is, you didnt hit anything vital." He explained, grabbing the stitches kit.

Dick watched as Deathstroke started to stitch him up. Hes used to this but for some reason this felt gentler.

Dick reached up, pulling the wood out of his mouth. "Was it... a trap?" He asked, hissing when Deathstroke tightened the first stitch.

"Seemed that way." He looked over at Dick who looked down. "Amazing observational skills you used out there, Grayson. It was noticed rather quickly." He appraised, obviously trying to distract Dick from the pain.

Dick smiled. "Thank you. Though I have to be honest. I thought it was the league again." He whispered, his eyelids growing a bit heavy.

"Because of last time?" He asked.

Dick nodded.

They fell quiet, Deathstroke focused on the wound while Dick watched. After a moment Dick finally decided to face what he feared to say. He cleared his throat, making sure the hurt was out of his voice.

"I shot someone." He said lowly, watching Deathstroke eye him curiously. "And... I think I killed them." He choked up a bit at the end, hissing when Deathstroke tied off a stitch.

Deathstroke paused, putting the tools down, he put his full attention to Dick. "How?" He asked.

Dick gulped. "He uhm... shot something at me and... I shot him in the chest."

Deathstroke nodded, reaching for a towel he cleaned off his hands before placing one hand on Dicks shoulder. "You did it in self defense. It was your only option. Think about it too much and it will eat at you. Think of it as saving yourself. It will make the kill seem less scary." He explained, shooting Dick a smirk.

He reached for the healing paste, putting some on before wrapping it up. Once Dick was patched, he sat up with the help of Deathstroke. Dick rubbed at his stomach, a sudden attack of tears came out of him. He didnt understand why they were coming out but they were.

Deathstroke hesitated for a moment, before pulling Dick in for a hug, resting Dick's head on his shoulder. He awkwardly patted Dick's head. "You need rest. You have been through a lot." He whispered.

Dick nodded sadly. "If I didnt know any better, I'd say you are acting like a dad." Dick joked, smirking through the tears.

"If I am Uncle Sporty, does this now make you Death Dad?" Asked Sportsmaster who was walking in with Jason on his heel.

Dick lifted his head, smiling at Sportsmasters comment. "I'd say it does." Dick jokes.

Deathstroke shook his head, gathering the first aid kit and putting it back where it belongs. "Whatever makes you happy, Grayson." He grumbled. "Jason, help Grayson upstairs to bed. I need a shower." He says, making his way to the elevator.

Jason stepped forward, grabbing Dick's arm and throwing it over his own shoulders. "Come on." He said, helping Dick off of the metal table and towards the elevator. They waited for it to come back down before stepping in.

"Such a weird dynamic you have with Deathstroke." Says Jason, looking over at Dick who was watching the floor number change.

"Just because he has a tough and cold exterior outside, doesn't mean he can't be different behind closed doors. Look at Sportsmaster." He said. "Our dynamic is more of a... father-son type." He explained.

"What about Batman?"

Dick made a face Jason knew. Sadness and Anger. "He was the same but... before I left he seemed cold and changed. It may have been because of work or whatever, but it hurt. Deathstroke hasn't once been cold, harsh or disappointed. He is what i wanted in a mentor." He explained, rubbing his stomach.

The elevator doors opened and they stepped out. Jason helped him to his room. Once they entered, Dick limped over to the bed, softly lying down. Jason went into his dresser and pulled out his practice pants. He topped them to Dick who pulled off his pants. He hissed when he pulled the tactical pants off, scrubbing the burn lightly. It wasnt a bad burn, it was more of a sensitive sunburn. No blisters which was a relief.

Dick pulled on the pajamas. He got into bed, taking off the rest of his tactical armor until he was just in the practice pants. Jason helped tuck him in since he couldnt really move. Once Dick was comfy he fell asleep fast.

Jason sighed, walking out of the room. He opened his watch, seeing a few text messages from Batman. After everything that he has witness today, he knew what to do.

He deleted the messages and disabled the watch before retiring to the guest room.

A/N: GASPS! Two updates in two days?! I know right! I hope you enjoy it ^-^