Chapter Text
Slade never got the chance to confront Dick since a contract pulled him out of the country for about three weeks. As soon as he returned, he was hit by a dart to the neck and lost consciousness.
When he came to an unknown amount of hours later he found himself on the floor of a small, dirty room.
A dry voice, words filed with sarcasm, drew his attention. “Oh good. You’re awake.”
He lifted himself up and lifted his head. “Nightwing,” he greeted.
Nightwing did not look pleased to see him. “I guess I can rule this out as being your fault then,” he mused, crossing his arms over his chest. “Unless this is your fault?”
“Can’t be my fault since I don’t know where we are,” Slade replied as he straightened up, backing cracking as he moved.
He briefly wondered how long he’d been out for.
“Unless you hird someone to drug us and bring us here and not tell you where ‘here’ is,” Nightwing pressed.
“I don’t trust that easily, you know that,” Slade told him. “Not without a damn good reason.”
Nightwing pressed his lips together, obviously looking like he wanted to argue.
Slade did not want to argue.
“We can fight later,” he told the vigilante firmly. “Right now should be focused on how to get out of here.”
He knew Dick would agree. His husband was good at a lot of things and compartmentalizing his problems was one of them.
………….
Three hours later and they were still stuck.
“This is useless,” Nightwing groaned, dropping to sit on the floor and lean against the wall. “Three hours and whoever put us here still hasn’t shown their face?”
“They’re either very good at what they do or very bad,” Slade replied as he took a seat next to the hero.
“Or the drugs were supposed to kill us and they just assume we’re dead in here.”
“Or they’re leaving us here to die.”
Nightwing scoffed but there was no denying the smile on his face. They fell back into silence but it was more comfortable this time.
Nightwing was the one who broke it with a topic that surprised Slade. “How have you been?”
Slade was sient for a few moments. “Fine,” he finally replied. “Yourself?”
Nightwing sighed. “I’ve been better,” he replied honestly. “Been running myself into the ground trying to deal with Bludhaven and help B.” he looked over at Slade before dropping his gaze. “Trying to avoid you.”
Slade grunted. “Well, gold star for admitting that, kid.”
Nightwing scoffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes I wonder why I ever fell in love with you,” he muttered. “And then I realize...I never fell out of it.”
Slade nodded. “Neither did I,” he managed to admit.
“Do you still...I mean are you still not sure if-”
“I’m cured of what was causing the dreams if that’s what you’re trying to ask,” Slade replied.
“Good,” Nightwing said softly. “Good, that’s good. What...um, what was it?”
“Someone who really hated your guts,” Slade replied, chuckling. “I’ve had the dreams for several years. Started up a few weeks after we met on the rooftop that first time.”
“Someone thought if they used magic to make you dream about killing me that you’d actually kill me?” Nightwing asked.
“You sound surprised.”
“Well yeah,” Nightwing answered. “Thought all my enemies had more balls than that.”
Slade barked out a loud laugh. “I’m sure most of them do, kid.”
His enthusiasm only lasted a few moments until Nightwing stood slowly, a frown on his face.
“What is it?” Slade asked, getting to his feet as well as Nightwing turned to face him.
“Do you hear that?” Nightwing asked quietly.
“Beeping,” Slade replied, walking across the room, running his hands over the wall until he found a hatch. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” Nightwing asked, stepping forward. He cursed quietly when Slade stepped aside to reveal- “Fuck. I don’t suppose you know how to strop a bomb?”
“Don’t you?” Slade asked.
“Yes,” Nightwing replied. “But my belt was emptied out while I was unconscious.”
“As was mine,” Slade confirmed.
Nightwing was quiet. “So this is it then?” he asked. “We go out in a big explosion and they probably never find our bodies?”
Slade looked over at him, concerned. “You’re giving up?”
“Well Slade, we’ve got two mintues,” Nightwing replied. “We’re not going to make it.”
Slade was silent for a long time. “I suppose you’re right. Of all the ways I thought I’d go out, explosion was not one of them.”
“Bad time to make this joke,” Dick said quietly as he and Slade backed away. “But that wasn’t how Jason thought he’d go out either.”
……………
“Come here.”
Dick - having pulled his mask off several minutes earlier - sighed, pulling his gaze and walking over to Slade who had shoved his own mask up on the bridge of his nose.
“Slade-”
He was cut off by the mercenary taking his face between Slade’s hand, pulling him in for a long kiss.
“I love you,” Slade said quietly as he pulled his mask back down.
“I love you too,” Dick returned.
Slade hummed, wrapping an arm around Dick’s waist. “Hold tight.”
Dick stared. “Excuse me?”
He had half a second to scramble for purchase on Slade’s armor as the mercenary pulled out his grappling gun, the only thing left in his belt, aiming upwards.
Dick screamed as he wrapped his arms around Slade’s neck as the grappling gun pulled the upwards just as the bomb went off, sound deafening that Dick screamed again.
…………
Slade tripped over the windowsill as he slipped into his apartment, sending them both sprawling across the floor. Dick’s eyes were wide, hands instantly flying to his ears since all he could hear was his own heartbeat and an odd ringing.
Holy shit this was not good.
Slade hadn’t taken his mask off and since Dick was apparently deaf from the explosion, he had no fucking clue if the mercenary was talking to him or not.
He was pretty sure he shouted when he said, “I can’t hear!”
Slade froze before kneeling down in front of where Dick was seated on the floor, legs spread out in front of him.
Carefully, Slade pulled off his mask before lifting his hands to sign. You can’t hear me?
Dick shook his head. Slade hesitated. Can you hear anything?
Dick shook his head again. Slade stood and walked away without explaining where he was going and Dick almost started crying.
Slade came back a second later with his cell phone in hand. He typed something out before turning the device for Dick to see.
Move your hands.
Dick did so tentatively. He might have been deaf, but he didn’t miss the way Slade inhaled.
“What?” he shouted.
Slade gently pressed his fingers - stripped of his gloves - to just under Dick’s ear. When he pulled them back, they were bloody.
Oh.
You’ll be fine. Slade typed out on the phone. Only temporary. Too close to the blast radius.
Dick nodded once, twice, three times before finally staring up at Slade with wide eyes. The mercenary sighed before taking Dick’s hands and helping him stand.
As he was being led back to the bedroom so Slade could wipe away the blood and help him get changed, Dick was hit with the sudden realization that he had missed this.
Missed Slade.
As they lay together in bed, Dick curled close to the man’s warm torso, he reached out to tap ‘I love you’ in morse code.
After a beat, it felt Slade return it on Dick’s back. The acrobat smiled.
In the morning, Slade would find a text message from Jason.
Bomb went off but there were no bodies. It would read. I assume you two made it out alright. I’ll expect a thanks for saving your marriage.
But for now, everything was okay again.