Into the Depths – Chapter One

Chapter One
Kitchen Trouble

April 27th, 2009. Monday, 5:01 am.

Things were unusually bright that morning.

Well, as unusually bright as it could be at five o`clock in the morning this brisk April day. But that’s what it felt like, anyway. Slade had found himself unable to sleep too well that night and had been perusing a newspaper in the effort to fall back asleep; but, feeling the need for an early morning snack, he emerged from his bedroom. However, Slade found himself drawn to some noise that was currently floating from the kitchen. With his large folded newspaper in hand, he walked down the hallway.

His eyes were first assaulted by the state of the normally pristine kitchen. Flour, bowls, batter adorned the countertops. Spoons, forks, bowls all covered in batter and flour were sprawled over the table. Slade could’ve sworn his cabinets were supposed to be plain wood and not the currently spotted dapple white with a mixture of cream and chocolate batter. How there was batter on the ceiling, Slade would never wish to find out.

Basically, the kitchen was a disaster.

Well, the old man, Wintergreen, was definitely not the perpetrator of this. Which left the only possible culprit: Slade’s adopted fifteen year old son, Dick, who just also happened to be Robin, the Boy Wonder and leader of the Teen Titans.

Now how that came about – that Slade Wilson, ex-Deathstroke the Terminator became Robin’s father – was a long, long story and one far too long to relate at five o`clock in the morning. Needless to say, the two of them were pleased with the arrangements and Slade found that he had his hands full with this energetic, precocious, danger attracting, heart failure inducing, crime fighting teen wonder.

Already having a full head of white hair had its perks.

A mop of raven hair darted around the kitchen. The boy didn’t see Slade standing at the hallway entrance. Slade raised an eyebrow as he noticed that the boy was speckled with copious amounts of white flour; black hair dappled white. There were a few mumbles of “Where is it?” from the boy, before he darted to a lower cabinet and opened it. How that boy managed to fit half his body inside it, Slade would never know.

Ah… But there was this airborne, wiggling target that was just too irresistible to pass up.

Besides, the kitchen looked like the fridge threw up all over it – this was payback.

In two strides, Slade reached his objective. With the heavy newspaper in hand, Slade gave the pajama bottomed target one hard swat. The boy jumped so bad out of his skin – it was downright hilarious. There was a cry of shock and pain as the boy banged his head inside the cabinet. That target wiggled as he pulled himself out of the cabinet, falling backwards onto his rump and holding a spot on his head. Slade was graced with a mixture of shock and outrage in the young boy’s expression.

“Dad!” cried Dick, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“What was that for?” repeated Slade, tapping the paper on his arm. “First of all, you know better than to leave yourself in such a vulnerable position.”

“I should be safe in my own home!”

“Second,” continued Slade, ignoring the boy. “Have you seen the state of this kitchen? What on earth have you done in here?”

Dick flushed slightly and ducked his head, still rubbing at the spot on his head.

“I was, uh… practicing… how to bake,” said Dick, his young cheeks bearing a pink blush.

“What, the kitchen itself?” drawled Slade. Dick flushed even brighter and glared up at Slade.

“No. I was trying to bake a cake.”

“You don’t say.”

“I was!”

“Well, it appears you baked everything but the cake,” said Slade with a wry smirk. “Mind telling why?”

Slade held out his hand. Dick accepted it and was pulled to his feet. Slade began to brush flour from off the boy, lingering a little longer on top of his head to ruffle his hair playfully. When Slade lingered even longer, he was rewarded with a small giggle and a jerk of the head.

“Well?”

“Um… Well… Ah, Raven’s birthday is just four weeks away and I was… just getting a head start on it,” said Dick, faltering slightly as he found his words. But at the end, he put on a bright smile.

Slade paused, watching the boy carefully. Dick was smiling at him, but there was a deep hesitancy in his blue eyes. There were light bags beneath those eyes as well, a well known sign that he wasn’t sleeping well for a few days. It was more than obvious that Dick was holding something back. A touch of concern licked at Slade’s chest as he wondered why Dick wasn’t saying what was really wrong.

But that smile was trying to cover it up.

“Aha. Is that why my kitchen needs to be hosed down?” drawled Slade dryly, deciding against pressuring the boy. “Why on earth didn’t you ask Will for help?”

“I don’t want Will’s help,” cried Dick, looking indignant. “I want to make it on my own.”

“At five o`clock in the morning?! Good grief, boy, why the unholy hour?”

Dick raised an eyebrow.

“Since when were hours ever holy?”

“No tangents at this hour, boy,” drawled Slade, his visible grey blue eye glinting slightly. “Why so early?”

A darkened light entered Dick’s eyes. However, it was brief as he shrugged and rubbed the bridge of his nose; leaving a brush of flour there.

So, it was true – Dick really was holding something back. By the look of his appearance and the time, it was probably another nightmare. But why wouldn’t he come to Slade about it? Hadn’t Slade made very sure to always be supportive over the nightmares? He knew that with Dick’s past, his nights sometimes were filled with the previous terrors that haunted his young life.

If that was the cause this past night… Then, why hadn’t Dick sought Slade out?

Slade let a small smirk lift his face and pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket. He commenced wiping the flour from the boy’s face, exaggerating his movements for the mere fact of messing with the boy. Dick endured it for a moment, before there was a giggle and whine.

“Stop it,” said Dick, pulling away, but smiling anyway.

“You resemble a rolling pin,” said Slade, still smirking. “Maybe we should put you in the oven and see what pops out. Maybe we’ll get roast duck.”

“Roast robin would be tastier, right?” grinned Dick impishly.

“Now there’s a delicious suggestion,” drawled Slade. He considered the boy for a moment. Then, so swiftly that Dick couldn’t have seen it coming, Slade scooped the boy into his arms and tossed him over his shoulder to dangle there.

“Ah! Dad!”

There was a giggling shriek as Slade used his free hand to tickle the boy’s side. There was quite a bit of flailing and laughter as Slade continued his assault on the boy’s sensitive stomach. No amount of pushing of the arms nor kicking of the legs could save the boy from Slade’s grasp and fingers. The kitchen was flooded with laughing cries and pleas.

Such sounds were heaven sent to Slade’s ears.

“I give!” cried Dick finally, his breathing heavy from his laughter. “Please, stop!”

The boy wiggled harder in Slade’s grasp as his fingers danced along side of Dick’s lower stomach. There were more giggles and cries.

“Mmm, should I?” said Slade, his voice drawled coyly; letting his fingers tease the boy’s side some more. He was further rewarded with another spazz of limbs from the boy.

“Yes!” begged Dick, trying to escape those fingers, yet thoroughly trapped.

“I suppose I should,” commented Slade, his tone deeply regretful. He lifted Dick up and wrapped his arms around Dick’s thighs so that he was lifted in the air; his speckled black hair brushing against the ceiling. The boy’s chest heaved in deep gasps as he began to calm down. But there was a pleasant expression on the boy’s face as he looked down at Slade.

“No more tickling,” said Dick, folding his arms and giving Slade a forced grumpy look.

Heh, who said?

Slade playfully pinched the side of Dick’s thigh. The reaction was downright comical. The boy squirmed horribly, losing his balance slightly as he gasped. In the quick moment, Dick had to unfold his arms and grab Slade by the shoulders to retain his balance. There was a startled, widened expression gracing the boy’s face at that.

“Dad! Don’t do that!” cried Dick, his hands tightening on Slade’s shoulders.

“Oh? Why not?” asked Slade, acting completely innocent. He gently pinched both sides of Dick’s thighs this time.

“Ack!”

The boy flailed in Slade’s arms again; completely losing his balance as his arms slid forward with his head falling to the side of Slade’s neck. In turn, Slade dropped part of his hold on the boy, so that one of his arms supported his seat, while the other supported his back – with Dick’s arms surrounding Slade’s neck. Slade tightened his hold on the boy.

“You’re super tricky, you know that, right?” whispered Dick as he tightened his arms around Slade’s neck; his legs slowly wrapping around Slade’s waist. Slade adjusted the boy’s weight, so he could better hold onto him.

“The best of his kind.”

“If you wanted a hug, you could’ve just asked, you know.”

With the hand that supported Dick’s back, Slade gently swatted the boy on his seat.

“Impudent little imp!”

There was a giggle. Dick pulled back in Slade’s arms and grinned mischievously; his bright blue eyes glimmering.

“The best of his kind.”

Slade let a genuine smile spread across his face. He slowly lowered Dick back to the ground and pulled the boy back into a hug. Thin arms responded by wrapping themselves around his waist as the boy buried his face into Slade’s chest.

Times like these were becoming far too precious to Slade. The soft, gentle times where he could see Dick smile like this – such moments were becoming ingrained inside Slade. With each passing day, it seemed as if Slade were becoming shackled to wanting more and more of these dear moments.

Slade never thought his heart could change any more than it had. Just how much further could it get after completely altering his ways and desires in life? Surely his heart couldn’t get any more soft than it had. The mere thought of it would’ve sent sickened chills to his stomach months ago.

But it seemed that Slade was becoming a victim to the laughter and smiles that Dick produced so effortlessly.

It was just too easy to get hooked.

“Dick,” began Slade in a soft, gentle voice; hoping the boy would be receptive to his tone. “Tell me the real reason why you’re up so early.”

The boy stiffened in his arms. If Slade wasn’t sure before, he had no doubts now. Those arms tightened around Slade’s waist; that head buried itself deeper into Slade’s chest. There was a shuddering intake of breath before it was let out slowly.

“Dick?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

The whisper reverberated deep within Slade’s chest. He placed a hand onto Dick’s head, stroking the speckled strands of black hair; hoping to bring comfort to the child when it was obvious something was troubling him.

Another nightmare, I suppose.

That worried Slade, there was no doubt about that. Weren’t they becoming more frequent lately? That wasn’t natural, was it? Surely with the new stability inside Dick’s life, wouldn’t those old terrors soon fade, not increase?

And Dick hadn’t once told him what the dreams entailed, which was odd. Dick wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his nightmares, but he usually would mention something. To not even mention that he was having a nightmare was very disturbing to Slade.

Last week or so, when Dick brought that blasted cat into the haunt, the only thing he mentioned was one thing: “Everything was horrible.”

What kind of dream could that be?

Slade withdrew from the hug to clasp Dick’s cheeks; forcing the boy to look up at him. Those bright blue eyes averted their gaze, trying their hardest not to look up at Slade.

“Look at me.”

The boy tucked his lower lip in between his teeth for a moment, before his eyes slowly looked directly into Slade’s single eye.

“You do know that you can always come to me, correct?”

Dick nodded within Slade’s hands; a glimmer of light flashing over his eyes.

“Then, why haven’t you?”

There was a brief moment where Slade truly thought that Dick would open up – where answers would be revealed. Those bright eyes glimmered with such intensity, as if they so wished to tell him everything. But then, the gentle light disappeared quickly from those eyes as Dick shrugged and pulled away from Slade’s touch. The boy turned his gaze to the side and shrugged again.

“It’s not a big deal, Dad. I’m okay.”

Slade was a bit startled with himself as he felt disappointment flow over him like a tidal wave. What would he have done months ago when they hadn’t been father and son? Would he have forced the answers out of the boy? Would he have threatened until the boy complied with his wishes? Would the boy have told the truth or something else that would’ve only placated Slade?

The unknown was driving Slade insane, but he wasn’t sure what to do any more.

How was he supposed to help the blasted child if he didn’t come to Slade for these types of things? Wasn’t that what being a father meant? How could he be there for Dick if the boy didn’t open up? It was difficult not to feel disappointed and annoyed.

But then again, the boy was fifteen now. At times, he would want Slade’s help and comfort, while other times he would want to endure alone.

But wasn’t that what Dick didn’t want?

A startled gasp pulled Slade out of his thoughts. He turned around to see the old man, Wintergreen, in a dark brown robe; his hazel green eyes wide in shock. He ran a hand through his pepper grey hair with his other hand on his hip.

“By the stars above!” cried Wintergreen; his hand dropping to his other hip. “What in heaven’s name happened in here?”

Slade chuckled at the look on the old man’s face. Well, it was true – the kitchen looked like road kill, that was for sure. And the little culprit was trying to hide behind Slade currently. Still chuckling, Slade wrapped his arm around Dick’s back and forced him forward towards the old man.

“Throw me to the lions, why don’t you?” muttered Dick.

“More like the lioness,” said Slade with a smirk. That earned him a deep glare from Wintergreen.

“Your laundry is overdue—”

“Of course, it is.”

“I am not in the mood to play games here, Slade!” cried Wintergreen as his aged eyes continued to glance around the entire kitchen; taking in every messy detail that splattered the cabinets. “First the feathers, now my kitchen.”

The old man put his face into his hand.

“Heaven grant me strength,” murmured Wintergreen, shaking his head. Then, with a fierce light in those hazel green eyes, he lifted his gaze and laid it upon Dick.

“Richard Jonathan Slade Wilson Grayson, just what have you done with my kitchen?!”

“Why am I in there?” commented Slade dryly; folding his arms and smirking at Wintergreen.

“That’s a mouthful for sure,” nodded Dick; mimicking Slade’s fold of the arms. The man looked down at him; a smirk heavy in his features.

“Did you change your name?”

Dick shook his head. “Not that I know of, sir.”

“Stop it, the pair of you!” said Wintergreen, sounding thoroughly exasperated with them. “Richard, just what have you done in here?”

There was a long moment where Dick considered the old man. Then, he quickly pointed up at Slade with a mischievous grin on his face.

“He did it!” cried Dick. He tried to dart away, but was instantly caught by the collar of his pajamas. The force caused Dick to bump into Slade’s chest. He looked up at the man with a sheepish expression before he tried to flee once again. There was no escape for Dick as this time he was caught by the ear. Wincing, he was pulled back to Slade.

“Well, what do you think we should do with him, Will?” asked Slade, looking down at his captive. Dick sighed deeply and threw his arms up into the air; submitting to his defeat.

“Aw, just hurry up and wallop my butt over this, will ya?”

There was a heavy smirk that lifted Slade’s face.

“Oh, I have a much better punishment in mind.”

Dick gulped at the sadistic, roguish look on Slade’s face.

Thus, that was how Dick found himself on his hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor straight after breakfast. He never knew just how annoying flour could be. Trying to get it out of the floor was a literal pain in the butt. It was truly taking him hours just to clean everything up. Even by the time lunch came around, Dick still hadn’t finished with half of the kitchen mess. Now afternoon, he had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be finished by dinner time either.

It was definitely far faster to mess it up in the first place.

Dick leaned back on his heels for a moment, drawing his arm up to wipe against his dampened forehead. He sighed as his arm dropped to rest on his thigh. He looked around the kitchen, staring at the remaining multiple items of mess that he had created in his attempt at baking.

Well, so he wasn’t a baker. He could cook, but he supposed that the finer details of baking eluded him. He had been trying to practice for Raven’s upcoming birthday. He knew his friend didn’t really like making a big deal of things, but Dick honestly felt that it’d be a good idea to celebrate her birthday – to show her that they were glad she was their friend.

Something wet fell from the ceiling and landed on Dick’s head; slowly sliding down his right temple and over his cheek. With a hand, he swiped the gunk from off his face with a grimace.

Maybe he should ask Cyborg to bake the cake…

But that wasn’t the only reason Dick had been up so early in the morning. He could’ve used the kitchen at any time, truly. Wintergreen would’ve allowed him use of it. It had only been an excuse to use up time and forget the terror that ravaged his mind now.

His nights were no longer peaceful.

Every night now – every night – Dick experienced the same thing. A total of nine nights had played that same nightmare over and over in his dreams. It was never changing – no change in variance whatsoever. Those same terrible, horrific images every time; the land covered in molten fire; buildings that were once powerful and indestructible laid in ruin and rubble; the sky was darkened in a fiery orange red color, ominous in its oppressive nature – everything built to the cruelest of images and experiences. The dream made it feel all too real – as if he were truly experiencing it first hand.

But that wasn’t the worst of it all.

The thing that horrified Dick the most was the carnage. Humans of all ages were scattered across the landscape. Dick had never seen death like this before. Such imagery was burned in his mind forever. How something so awful could rise inside Dick’s mind, he could never understand. He never subjected himself to such things – just where was this imagery coming from? How could his subconscious come up with such horrific things on its own?

And then, when the worst couldn’t be any more horrifying, there was always one more thing which pushed him over the edge. It was the one part of the dream that made him feel like it had a life of its own; the only part of the dream that did actually vary – that life mocking him with an all too familiar voice; every word doing its all to tear down his soul to the very depths of despair.

Those horrible red eyes…

Every time Dick awoke, his entire body felt sickened. Sweat poured from his skin; his heart pounded out of his chest; his stomach felt nauseous to the point of wanting to throw up. Lately, he hadn’t screamed any more, of which Dick was grateful for – he didn’t want Slade to know what was going on.

It was just too horrible to word out loud. He felt that if he worded such terrible things out loud, they’d have no choice but to come to pass. Dick felt a sickly worry eat away at his heart every time he woke up from the nightmare. It was getting so bad that he was barely sleeping these past nights.

But he really didn’t want Slade to worry.

Dick wasn’t sure what to do any more. All he knew was that he never wanted to talk about it. He never wanted to speak the words that could bring life to the nightmare. He never wanted it to be a reality, because somewhere deep inside Dick’s very core, he felt as if the dream was some untold reality of the world.

Such a thought chilled his very soul.

So, Dick kept it buried. Anything to avoid speaking such things out loud; anything to avoid the reality of its horrors; anything to protect his tender heart. However, in the process, it was beginning to destroy him.

But what could he do?

He was trapped inside his own mind. There was nothing he could do to escape from it all. Even if he did talk to Slade about it, what could the man do for him? Talking about it would only make it worse.

His pocket buzzed suddenly, ringing a soft tone as it was muffed there. Dick withdrew his phone and answered it.

“Yo, Robin, where are you? Why aren’t you at the Tower right now?” came Beast Boy’s questioning voice through the phone. Dick sighed lightly and sat back onto his seat; his legs crossed.

“I, uh… got into some trouble, you could say,” said Dick sheepishly, scratching his cheek lightly. There was a horrified gasp on the other side of the phone and Dick had to quickly move it away from his ear before he went momentarily deaf by the loud voice that boomed through the receiver.

“What?! Did Slade spank you?! You okay? What happened!?”

The heat flushed through Dick’s face immediately, reaching so high that he could’ve sworn his hair turned red to match his cheeks. With his face ever so hot, Dick brought the phone to his mouth and took a deep breath.

“BB! Shuddup!”

Dick took another breath to calm himself down, ever aware of the fiery heat in his face at the total embarrassment and mortification that was pouring through him at that moment. Honestly, why couldn’t Beast Boy show just a little consideration here? Surely he knew how embarrassing it was alone without the whole freaking world knowing.

“It’s not any of your business how or if my father disciplines me or not,” hissed Dick into the phone, trying extremely hard not to grind his teeth.

“Sooo… Did he?”

“No! He, in fact, didn’t.”

“But—”

“Would you shut up already?!” Dick let out a heavy sigh before he continued. “Look, I just have to clean the kitchen, all right? No big deal.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not too bad.”

“You haven’t seen the kitchen yet,” muttered Dick under his breath. His tone rose as he said, “Sorry, not sure if I’ll be at the Tower today.”

“Aw, tough luck.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Oh, hey… uh, BB?”

“Mm?”

“N–no one else is in the room with you… right?”

“Huh? Uh… no. Oh, wait. Well, Star’s in the room. Why?”

Dick nearly died right then and there. His already flushed face seemed to be on fire now. He closed his eyes and tried to will it away, but it didn’t listen to him. With a trembling hand, he lifted the phone closer to his mouth.

“BB. Your days are numbered!”

With that ear splitting shout, Dick shut off the call; shoving the phone back into his pocket. He slapped his hands to his heated cheeks and groaned deeply. How could Beast Boy be so clueless! How could he just say those things so easily in front of a girl and in front Starfire no less!? How embarrassing! Just how the heck was Dick supposed to look Starfire in the face after that? It was hard enough already without more difficulties.

How utterly embarrassing.

That was the newest thing going on inside Dick. He was becoming more and more aware of the fact that he liked Starfire. Not just as a friend nor as a best friend, but as in he really liked her. It was getting so bad that he could barely look her in the eyes without blushing hard. His stomach would get all strange on him and flutter oddly whenever she was in the room or whenever she spoke. He just wasn’t sure what to do about it any more. Talking to her about it seemed worse than fighting with Plasmus, the radioactive sludge monster. And he sure as heck didn’t want to talk to Slade about it.

That would be completely awkward, if ever.

Besides, Dick didn’t think the man could handle it. While Slade was many things, Dick highly doubted he was exactly the world’s leading expert on matters of the heart. It wasn’t like his last relationship ended all that… beautifully. Especially since said woman actually shot out his eye. Such knowledge wasn’t exactly heartening to Dick.

Maybe the old man could provide a few pointers… But then again, the old man wasn’t exactly married. In fact, now that Dick thought about it, he didn’t really know much about Wintergreen. He knew more about Slade than the old man. Maybe Wintergreen could offer some advice on matters of the heart.

Although… the more Dick thought about it, the more he didn’t want to talk to anyone about what he was feeling over Starfire. It was just too embarrassing.

With a soft sigh, Dick flopped back onto the hard floor of the kitchen to stare up at the ceiling. He groaned internally at the sight of the mess there. He still had a long way to go in this kitchen. He closed his eyes; thinking deeply.

Well, he would just have to take one day at a time. Hopefully he wouldn’t make an idiot of himself in front of Starfire – not that she seemed to care or notice those types of things. He was a bit lucky on that matter.

A light beeping sound lifting into the air. Dick sat up and noticed the red light flashing on his utility belt beneath his shirt. He quickly stood and ran down the hallway to his room; shedding his shirt and pants as fast as possible. Beneath his clothes, his Kevlar suit was always ready. Usually while at the Tower, he just wore the suit, but back here at home, he wore it beneath normal clothing. He grabbed his domino mask from his desk next to his bed and darted out of the room. He burst inside Slade’s bedroom, breathing hard for a moment.

“Dad,” said Dick, “I gotta go. Trouble.”

Slade was sitting at his computer. On the screen were a number of formulas dealing with what Dick knew was the healing serum. Slade turned around and stood up; folding his arms.

“How’s the kitchen looking?” said Slade with a look that completely appeared as if he knew the answer. Dick grimaced slightly and bit his lower lip.

“I promise to finish cleaning the kitchen; I swear. I have to go, though. Please?”

Slade gave him a hard look before he let out a tired chuckle; shaking his head.

“All right, but you better come back afterward.”

“Of course, Dad,” said Dick with a bright smile and a laugh. He turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. Then, fast as a bullet, he darted back to Slade and threw himself into a hug. He felt the man startle slightly, taking a step back from Dick’s impact. But then, he felt those strong arms wrap around him in a warm embrace. After a few moments, there was a gentle swat to Dick’s lower back.

“You better get going, imp,” said Slade with a chuckle in his throat. Dick pulled back and smiled. He gave Slade a wave of the hand before darting out the door.

“See you later!”

“Mmm… Be careful.”

ooOOOOOoo

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