There are reasons why Nightwing always told the Team to stay away from Deathstroke. Very good reasons in fact. One of those being that they could die, obviously. No matter how strong they thought they were, the Team wouldn't ever stand a chance at defeating the man. He barely did on a good day, barely. Although, now that he thought about it, Slade probably lets him win on those days.

Dick let out an exasperated breath and tugged against his restraints. Of course the Team had to encounter Deathstroke on his -forced- day off. He'd gotten the alert and -against his body's wishes- somehow managed to drag his flu ridden self out of bed and towards the mountain. He was going to give them a really long lecture if it wasn't important. When he arrived, nobody was dying and, according to Robin, the Team had managed to escape the man with little to no injury. Simple, easy, and a little strange. If Dick were feeling better, however, he would've noticed the strange occurrence of the Team actually escaping Deathstroke.

Despite his brain screaming at him that something was up, Dick pulled himself over to the couch and flopped down, intending to doze off for a bit, he really wasn't feeling well. At least, he was until a loud explosion rocked his senses, causing Nightwing to spring onto the floor. He could hear the Team shout in confusion from behind, but Dick was distracted by the large boot that dug into his back.

Cursing his sick body and slow movements, Nightwing was just barely able to make a joke before he was efficiently knocked out.

That brings him to his current situation. Dick's hands were bound tightly together and were resting in his lap, much different compared to how he was normally contained. Although, his legs were tied together this time so Dick didn't really know if his hands being in front of him mattered to much. The Team wasn't much better, they were all tied together with...steel cables? Probably to keep Superboy at bay, at least, until he woke up.

Nightwing was separated from the group, and sat a few feet from the couch. At least he hadn't moved very far. The headache pounding in his skull didn't help with his current situation either, it hurt to think. Man, he really should've stayed in bed today. The Team, the ones who were awake, were chatting -arguing- loudly, blaming each other for their current predicament.

"Hey, be quiet!" Nightwing whispered harshly, his voice sounding scratchy and raw. Dick wasn't too happy about being stuck here, all he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and sleep. Maybe he'd take a few pills. His throat was sore, and he could feel a new bruise blooming on his back, so who could blame him for being a bit agitated.

Dick knew Deathstroke had something to do with this. Nobody escapes him unless Slade wanted them too. If only he'd been more alert and actually asked Tim what happened when they came across the mercenary, then maybe he wouldn't be tied up like this. Dick twisted his hands in his restraints, testing the strength. They were good. Whoever -Slade- tied them had to be a professional, and Dick knew he wouldn't be getting out of these any time soon.

Speak of the devil. Deathstroke entered silently, stalking over to stand between Nightwing and the Team, "Oh God," Nightwing droned, stifling a cough, he really didn't want to deal with this today.

Deathstroke turned his head, "Yes?"

Really? Was Slade really going to do this? Of course he was, "Sorry to destroy your ego, but your not God," Dick replied, sounding a bit stuffy and lacking his usual playfulness. Dick's stomach was starting to feel weird. He hoped he didn't puke, he'd just washed his suit a few days ago.

"Hmm. Only as far as this dimension is concerned," Slade replied smoothly, crouching down to Dick's eye level, analyzing him.

Before he replied, Dick looked over to the Team, Superboy was awake. If he could distract Slade long enough they'd be able to escape. Slade wouldn't kill him, but Dick knew he had no qualms with killing the young heroes.

"That was actually a pretty good one. I'm surprised it came from your mind," Dick said sarcastically, and then, with a bitter note, "What are you doing here?" A small cough followed shortly behind his retort.

Slade looked at him for a moment before turning towards the Team, who were, quite literally, shaking in their boots. They all knew what this man was capable of. Actually, now that he thought about it, Dick bet they started panicking once they heard him speak to Slade. They probably thought Dick had a death wish right about now. He'd never told them he knew the mercenary, only to stay away from him.

"You see, Little Bird," Slade said, turning back to Dick, "I'm here because these brats," he pointed behind him, "destroyed something that belonged to me."

"No we didn't," Artemis shouted, making Dick mentally smack his forehead. Of course she had to start yelling.

"It truly wasn't us this time Deathstroke," Kaldur added calmly, trying to keep the mercenary from getting agitated.

Deathstroke chuckled, "Oh but you did at one point, and you need to learn what happens when you destroy something that's mine."

Deathstroke walked behind Dick and grabbed something off the floor, and silently slipped back in front of the Team.

At this, Dick began to mutter quietly to himself, "It's always when I'm sick. Something bad always happens when I'm sick," he struggled against his bonds again. What was Slade even doing here? The Team hadn't destroyed anything today. Well, nothing that he knew of.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Deathstroke asked quizzically, stopping Dick's quiet murmuring.

Dick glared at the man and wiggled again, he could feel his nose starting to run, "I was until you interrupted," he replied and brought his arms up to wipe away the snot. Dick really didn't care anymore. Maybe Slade would get bored and leave?

Slade dropped the bag and approached Dick, once again crouching to his level, "You can argue about anything can't you?"

Yeah, that's right, keep your attention here so they can escape, "No I can't."

Deathstroke chuckled as he reached out to and grab Dick's chin, "You just proved my point, Little Bird."

Robin had escaped, it was only a matter of time before the rest did as well, "No I didn't. Also, did I mention that kick in the groin you'll be receiving if you touch me again?" Dick accused, his voice sounding slightly stuffy. Slade hummed quietly before releasing his face.

"Are you feeling okay? You're lacking in your usual...humor," Slade asked as he stood and drew his sword. He must've heard the Team escape.

"He's fine, but you're not going to be!" Kid Flash shouted suddenly. Dick looked past Slade and over to the Team. They were all now standing, free of the cables, and ready to fight.

"Guys run," Nightwing yelled, his voice hoarse, "You can't beat him!"

They stood there and had the gaul to look offended, "But what about you?" Impulse asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine, he won't kill me," Dick assured, If they don't leave right now, so help me God I'll kick their little as-

"How do you know that? The guys a freaking mercenary!" Artemis screeched.

"Well, if you ever want my opinion," Deathstroke suggested.

"We don't," Kid Flash interrupted.

"Rest assured that I won't kill him, even though he is an incredible pain," He finished, ignoring Kid Flash's comment.

Dick looked right at his Team, "Go. Now."

"No. We didn't destroy anything of his, so what are you really doing here Deathstroke?" Superboy growled, raising his fists.

"Well, if you must know, I'm here to visit my favorite little bird," Deathstroke replied, putting away his sword and crossing his arms over his chest.

Great. Here come the questions that Dick didn't want to answer.

"What are you talking about?" Robin asked hesitantly.

"Oh? You don't know?" Slade turned to face Dick, "Is this one of those times when you want me to lie to protect your delicate emotions?" He joked.

Dick groaned in frustration, "Guys, if you don't leave right now, the only mission you'll be doing is training!" He threatened harshly, holding back a cough. He didn't want to appear even more sick than he already did.

"...Okay," Kaldur started, "We will leave only if Deathstroke allows it," he finished, looking up to the masked man.

"Go ahead, get out. Nightwing will be back later. Unharmed."

As soon as they left Deathstroke approach him, taking off his mask and kneeling once more, "Are you okay kid? What's your problem? You sick?"

Dick really wanted to go home, he was snappier than usual, "Well, if you must know, my problem is with you and your face and the fact that I can see it. Go away!"

Slade eyed him for a moment, "That's it kid, I'm taking you home," He quickly picked Dick up and threw him over his shoulder.

Dick groaned and shut his eyes tightly, the sudden movement did not help his head at all. If anything, he felt more sick than he did earlier. With Dick's brain rattling around, he mumbled out the first response that came to mind.

"Does this mean we're friends?" He asked, smacking Slade's back with his bound hands as he walked.

Slade grunted, "I don't know. I don't think I'd be able to handle your terrible puns all the time."

Dick smirked at that, "Clearly you're incapable of appreciating my genius," he joked.

Laughing, Slade replied, "Whatever helps you sleep at night kid."

"Slade"

"Hm"

"I'm gonna puke."

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Well, this is a strange one. I wrote it a few days ago at like, three am. I was scrolling through Pinterest and saw some story prompts so I , of course, used a few.

And thus, this story was born.

Anyway, now that I've resurrected and rejoined the land of the living, -I've been studying for my AP and final exams- are there any requests for new chapters? They can be about anything you want.

Also, what did you think about this chapter? I'm a bit iffy about it, but I wanted to post it for y'all anyway. Let me know in the comments bellow! :)

Til next time,

Rachel