Our next story is from Frosty9000isawesome and our shout out for today is for CloeTheTealSnake! Stories? Amazing. Personality? Superb. Hotel? Trivago.

Also, I had to look past so much Dick x Slade stuff in order to get their dynamic in fanfics AND I STILL DON'T KNOW

EDIT: TW BLOOD

"You've got to be kidding me," Dick stated. The family was at the breakfast table when Bruce broke the news about what the brother's monthly mission would be. It was family rules that the brothers had to work on one mission per month in order to maintain their teamwork skills. The only one who seemed to look forward to it was Dick but it seemed on this occasion he was joining the sentiment of his brothers. There was something somewhat shocking about seeing him so distasteful at their mission but they couldn't blame him. "It's the end of the month and you still haven't done a mission together. Tonight is the only night where you're all free. There isn't much choice in the matter," Bruce replied. He looked just as unhappy with the mission as his eldest but he was right. There wasn't much choice in the matter. Family rules were family rules. If they started bending them then they'd never keep to any of them and no one could afford for the gun rule to be bent. Back before it was put in place, Bruce had a rather hard time explaining the bullet holes riddling five of the guest bedrooms. He never lived the rumours of being a serial killer down. "I'm not doing it. You know how I get when I work on cases about him. I promised Kory I wouldn't do it again," Dick argued. 

"Oh, he's got you there Brucey. If she gets word of this you're screwed," Jason taunted. 

"Plus Babs will get involved. Then you're well and truly screwed," Tim added.

"You're all being childish. You can deal with the Joker so you can deal with Deathstroke, end of," Bruce stated firmly. He made sure to finish the conversation by picking up his phone to look through his schedule for today. Dick scowled at him, slamming down his fork before abandoning both the table and his food. He'd hardly touched it. The boys let out a resounding "ooo" and looked to their mentor for some sort of reaction. They expected him to get up and begin a lecture on manners. Unfortunately, all he gave them was a defeated sigh.

Seeing this, the fun of the drama wore off. Things were a lot less fun when even Bruce was avoiding confrontation. Especially with Dick. Their fights were normally legendary but to see this one fizzle out without so much as an "I raised your kid" or "I raised you on my own" meant this fight had a sadder tone. Not many knew exactly why Dick had such a special hatred towards Deathstroke. Jason often found there were bits even he didn't know about. It was just common consensus not to ask about what happened but maybe that was making things worse. "I'll go make sure he doesn't destroy a punching bag," Jason stated, striding speedily out of the room. He wasn't one for emotions but out of those available, he was probably the best one to go. He doubted a socially awkward teen, an emotionally frustrated tween nor an emotionally deficient adult were better than a jaded millennial.

He wasn't going. No way. He promised Kory he wouldn't get involved in Deathstroke cases. It always got him in the worse mood and he always let it consume him. He'd lay awake at night because no doubt Deathstroke would somehow find a way to get away before they could arrest him and he'd be forced to recount all the mistakes he made that allowed his escape. Dick had been trying so hard since being Batman to take care of himself but Bruce just loved to make things hard. If he didn't go on the mission he wouldn't be setting a good example for his brothers and would miss out on valuable bonding time. If he did go then he would get caught up with it all and probably be made a mockery of by the criminal he hated the most. To help him think through his decision, Dick had taken to punching the living hell out of a punching bag. He left his knuckles unprotected against the material which made them bright red and he'd probably have to deal with them being sore later but right now it was making all the difference in calming him down. "You alright there Goldie?" asked some familiar voice in the distance. Judging by the nickname it was Jason. 

"Just peachy," he responded through gritted teeth. 

"You going on this mission then?" Dick sighed to himself and paused his beating of the punching bag. He turned around as he thought through his answer. Once again, he had to do what was best for everyone else. Three against Deathstroke was good but four was better. "Yeah, it's no real biggie," he replied, putting on a forced smile. 

"Really? Storming out and coming down here to punch the shit out of that thing really doesn't portray no real biggie," the younger pointed out. Without his fake smile faltering, he shrugged at the assertion. 

"Just the shock of it. I got all my sillies out and now I'm fine," he responded. Jason gave him a skeptical look. 

"Do you think that shit works on me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine," the older answered, swiftly walking away.

Obviously he wasn't fine. For the rest of the day, all Dick did was research every single detail of every single information leak they had on Deathstroke. Damian had to go to school but Tim and Jason stayed in the cave to make sure their older brother didn't work himself to death. They tried to pry him away from the computer with offers of going out for dinner or help with training but were waved off at every attempt. It was quite nerve-wracking to see him so obsessed with something. They could see why Deathstroke missions were strictly kept away from him. Bruce was at work so he couldn't see the consequences of choosing the mission but he was certainly going to hear about his effects on his first son. How could he have thought of this as a necessary evil? There had to be another mission they could've taken. "Is Grayson still working?" Damian inquired when he got back from school.

"What do you think? He hasn't even stopped to eat today," Tim answered. "The ginger squad is going to kill us."

"We didn't do jack shit. Bruce is the one who started it," Jason protested.

"Then we'll be the ones to fix Father's mistake," Damian stated. The older pair raised inquisitive eyebrows and followed him down to the Batcave. He strode across from the elevator over to where Dick was sat. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little upset that he wasn't greeted by the normally jovial acrobat. Nevertheless, he continued to stride over and placed a hand on the back of the office chair the older was sat on then began pulling him away from the desk. "Uh, what're you doing?" Dick asked, confused as to why he was suddenly away from the keypad. 

"Bonding time. You do it when we're doing the same thing. It's only fair you receive the same treatment," Damian answered. He scoffed and stood out of the chair so Damian firmly gripped his wrist and continued to pull him across the room. 

"Damian, I'm busy."

"You're not busy, you're being obsessive. We don't need data on what Wilson ate for lunch last week. We've got the intel we need already," the younger pointed out.

"I'm not in the mood for an argument." Dick felt Tim grab his other hand in a firm hold and pull him in the same direction as their younger brother. 

"You'll be coming with us then."

"Jay, tell them."

"Tell them to continue? No problem big bro."

"I hate everything about this."

They collectively led him to the home cinema and forced him to sit down with them. When he tried to get back up, Jason lept onto his lap and made himself comfortable whilst ignoring the acrobat's complaints. "Oh will you just give over!" he shouted in frustration.

"This is exactly why we shouldn't. You hardly yell at us, let alone when we're actually attempting to spend time with you," Jason said, looking up from scrolling through his news feed. It only ever gossiped about the latest supervillain and he got enough at that at work. Dick seemed to snap out of whatever funk he was in, finally seeing the concern hiding behind his sibling's eyes. "I got caught up again, didn't I?" he asked no one in particular. He ran a hand through his hair with a deep sigh. "Stupid really. I've not even known about the mission for 24 hours and I've been consumed by it." His tone was laced with sadness. He clearly held himself at a high standard and today he'd failed to live up to them. Jason got off his lap and moved onto the seat next to him upon the revelation. "We all have our villains we obsess over. Bruce has-"

"Don't compare me to him on this one. It's more of an insult than a comfort," he interrupted. Tim nodded, seeing the error in the comparison. 

"You get the sentiment though?"

"Yeah." There was an awkward silence that Tim rushed to fill by putting on the movie that was already in the DVD player. 

"Why do you care so much about Wilson? Surely you should be like this with Joker," Damian said. There was some hesitance to the question which was repeated in the answer. 

"I'm not...I'm not scared of Joker."

"You're scared of Wilson?" Dick nodded reluctantly. "Why?"

"He was my Joker. It was my first time leading a team and I guess he scared me. He undermined my authority, he turned me against my team, they thought I was going crazy because of him," he recounted. "It's one thing to physically hurt someone but to hurt someone mentally and make them seem untrustworthy? That's a whole different level." His eyes glazed over as the horrid events flashed in front of his eyes. He didn't like to go into detail. The vague descriptions were enough to set him off so he never tried to go any further. "You don't have to come along on this mission with us," Tim offered.

"Family rules. If I start breaking them then it'll be anarchy." He glanced at the screen to find the starting scene to Die Hard. The last time they watched it they broke out in a debate on whether it could be considered a Christmas movie or not. Everyone pretty much filtered out before the ending. "How about we just watch this? Maybe it'll take my mind off things," he suggested. 

"Well we have three hours before the missions begins so we may as well," Tim replied, looking at his watch.

After the movie, Dick had to admit that he needed the break. He could feel the crushing weight of his past with Deathstroke easing off and letting him breathe a little easier. Of course, it was still there. It would never go away if he was ever involved in a mission with that guy but this was more sustainable. As the credits played and they'd finished picking out the weird crew names, they migrated back to the Batcave. Damian kept Dick busy with training whilst Tim sorted through the information the older had gathered. Most of it wasn't useful but there were a few tidbits that Bruce had left out that would be useful to them like side roads where they could park without their vehicles being noticed. Jason watched his brothers train with a nagging thought. "We can't depend on him," he said suddenly. It was the only way to get the thought out of his head. 

"What?" Tim asked.

"We can't depend on him," he repeated.

"Yeah I heard that but why do you think that? He's the most mentally stable out of all of us."

"You and I both know that doesn't mean much. Besides, if he's anything like Bruce he'll get consumed by the mission. He might forget that we're there so if we're ever in danger he won't be there to help," he explained. Tim remained silent as he mulled it over and found that he was right. If they could hardly pull him away from researching the villain then how would they ever draw him away when the guy was stood right in front of him. "Then what do you suggest we do?"

"Act like he isn't there. If one of us is in trouble then we'll have to sort it without him. He'll be too busy." Tim nodded, making a mental note to relay this message to the youngest. There was always some sort of problem with their missions whether it was big or small but Dick was always there. He always helped out no matter what. It would be weird now that he wouldn't drop what he had in order to help those closest to them. Maybe they underestimated how bad Dick's obsession was. "Do you think he'll always be this weird when it comes to Deathstroke?" Tim asked.

"Probably. Who knows how fucked up that guy made him? There's a reason the ginger squad get so arsey about missions like these."

"At least we can be spared of their fury." They glanced at each other. Yeah, it would be tough on Dick to have all his friends and partners attack his father figure...but it would be one hell of a fight. "You know, they might think we were okay with all this if they find out on their own," Jason began. "Perhaps if we tell them beforehand they'll actually commend us."

"I'll put popcorn in the microwave for us."

Finally, the time came. They took one of the very few cars that would fit everyone in and set off. They let Nightwing put on whatever song he wanted considering the circumstances which ended up with him tapping his finger on the wheel to Dancing Queen whilst looking out the windshield with a glare that was harsher than one thousand suns. None of them would listen to ABBA in the same way they had before ever again. Nightwing parked a block away from the factory and immediately set off on his own. "Well, that took all of five seconds," Red Robin sighed. He couldn't say he wasn't surprised but he kind of hoped the older would last a little longer than that. "You're being much too dramatic. It was thirty," Robin corrected. They quickly ran after him and found him perched on a rooftop. He was already trying to hack into the security cameras and took little notice of them joining him. "I've got the cameras. You take care of the guys down there," Red Robin ordered. Nightwing hummed discontentedly but went along with the order either way. At least he was still in his right mind to listen to them. For now.

As Nightwing picked off the guards in the hallways, the trio of heroes splintered off before all joining on the same walkway that passed over vats of sickly looking chemicals. The smell was horrendous and would make the average person lightheaded. Thinking back they could've grabbed the masks that were hanging up before they walked onto the galloway but they had stronger stomachs than the average person so there was little point to it. The rails were low, definitely a safety hazard but they doubted that a place like this cared about what the DOL deemed safe. They carefully walked upon it in a single file line since it could only fit one at a time. Around them, it was almost dead silent aside from the bubbling thick liquid beneath them. "You boys aren't what I was expecting," Deathstroke announced. He stood eerily calm on the higher walkway. 

"Sorry to disappoint," Red Hood spat. The man dropped down, his steel-capped boots clanging against the metal. He rose up with his sword drawn and face cold. 

"I suppose you'll do for some easy practice," he suggested, a sudden smug smirk pulling at his lips. 

"Easy? With insults like that I may as well jump off this thing," the eldest of the trio spoke up. 

"Let's hope you stay dead this time, hey?" Red Hood pulled out his gun and fired but the older deflected all the bullets with his sword. Red Robin and Robin shot their grappling hooks to the higher walkway and swung over their gun-toting accomplice. Red Robin landed first and blocked an oncoming blow with his staff. He lent back as more pressure was added whilst Robin landed behind the assailant, knocking his legs out. Well, he attempted to knock his legs out. Deathstroke jumped up, jumping over the younger's swipe, and kicked Red Robin in the gut whilst he grabbed Robin by the shoulders. He gripped on tight and swung him off the walkway without a second thought. Red Robin, after running through how many people would kill him if he let nature take its course, unhooked his grappling hook and shot it at Robin. It wrapped around the younger's waist and he drew it in just before the tip of his cape dunked in the nasty concoction below. As he drew in the line to near completion, Deathstroke kicked him off too. Red Hood jumped into action and repeated the method of hooking his grappling hook around his comrade. He squatted down so he wouldn't go arse over tit off the walkway and began pulling in the rope since the motor wouldn't take the weight of two teenagers with full hero gear. "You're all the same. Just big disappointments. Any potential you have you squander on this useless mission for justice," Deathstroke monologued. He dragged his blade on the metal floor to create a metal screeching sound that went straight through them. "Here's the reality. I'll push you off this thing again and again and I won't feel a thing. No regret, no anger, no guilt, no grief. I'll be colder than your rotting bodies when they're six feet under." He brought his sword above his head to cut the rope keeping the younger pair from falling to their deaths.

Suddenly, a Wing Ding dug into his right wrist which forced him to drop his sword. Red Hood kicked it off the edge and it dissolved into the chemicals. "At least I can be sure my death due to Todd's incompetence will be short," Robin deadpanned as the spitting liquid barely missed his cheek. Deathstroke pulled out the weapon with a small grunt and tossed it over the edge. He looked to the doorway with a smile. "Ah, well if it isn't my favourite of the bastard Robins?" he greeted, pulling a dagger from his waistband.

"We're right here," Red Robin quipped.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't show up but then again you just can't get enough-" A Wing Ding was flung into his shoulder, catching him off guard. Normally heroes let their villains ramble on but Nightwing wasn't up for that. He couldn't stand to hear another word come out that man's mouth. "Shut up already," Nightwing snapped. His escrima sticks lit up with blue static and he dashed straight towards the villain. Deathstroke stepped back and blocked the many kicks and punches that were directed at his face. His smile turned to a grin when he saw how frustrated he got the hero. There was something about Nightwing. He just loved to piss him off ever since he was a kid. It was just so fun. "Why? Scared I'll tell them all about our time together?" he taunted. He slashed at the hero who backflipped away before it sliced through his suit. He struck out with the tip of escrima sticks and gave Deathstroke a jab. Electricity jolted through his body, shocking him, and Nightwing uppercut him. He was knocked back a couple of steps and rubbed at his jaw with a low dangerous chuckle. "So that's it hm? Scared it'll all get out? I bet they'd love to know what you did when-" another uppercut. Nightwing's fists shook with fury as he struggled to control himself. "Why don't you show them the moves I taught you?"

"Just shut up!" Nightwing gripped both of his escrima sticks and jammed them into the man's chest to give him a good shock. He was tempted to leave the connection longer, just to give the old bag's heart a jumpstart, but the opportunity was snatched away from him when sharp metal jammed through his skin and into the fatty part of his side. He backed away and pulled it out with an unimpressed look. "Never leave yourself open," Deathstroke reminded him through gasps. He began running towards the small window at the end of the walkway with Nightwing hot on his heels not wasting any time to throw every Wing Ding he had at him. When he got to the end, Deathstroke crouched in the window and looked behind Nightwing's shoulder at the hero teetering near the edge trying desperately to save the two dangling teenagers inches away from an agonizing death. "Here's a question. Would you rather save your makeshift family or catch your greatest adversary?" he asked, pointing to the situation going on behind them. Nightwing whipped around, quickly evaluating the problem, then he turned back to Deathstroke. "Now that's an easy one."

Red Hood couldn't hold on for much longer. The rope was slipping through his fingers and he hardly had the strength to keep his tight grip. He squeezed his eyes shut when suddenly the rope got lighter. Like nothing was holding onto it anymore. His eyes shot open and he hurriedly pulled up the rope before peering over the edge reluctantly. No skin coloured patch lay upon the chemical's top layer and neither were their screams of agony. A pair of feet hit the metal walkway before another two pairs did the same. Red Hood snapped to see who it was, hoping it wasn't another set of guards, only to find his three fellow heroes. Granted, one had part of his fringe fried off, one was breathing through the last of his near-death panic and another was trying to wiggle a knife out of his waist. "You saved them," Red Hood stated, standing up. 

"I figured it would take Bruce longer to adopt other kids to replace you guys than Deathstroke would spend in prison before he inevitably broke out," Nightwing explained, finally taking out the blade. He hissed at the wound then chucked the dagger over the edge. "Surely the number of things we threw in that vat today will cause a chemical reaction," Robin commented absentmindedly. The eldest ruffled his hair with a chuckle and wrapped his arm around the bleeding gash in his side. "I'm guessing I'm driving?" Red Robin inquired before he was handed the keys.

"Go warm her up for me," Nightwing ordered. He picked him Robin and placed him on the other side of him so he could run out along with the new driver. Red Hood walked over to him and clasped his shoulder with a smile. "I'm proud of you Dickie-bird. For a second back there, I thought you weren't going to help."

"As I said, new brothers would take too long," he replied with a light-hearted grin.

"Still, I appreciate it. It makes me sort of feel bad about what's going to greet you when we get home."

"What?"

"What."

They got home just as Barbara, Wally and Kory got into the Batcave. "Huh, they're missing a few members. Wonder if it's going to be as fun," Jason commented as they all got out of the car. 

"Dick! Are you alri-You're bleeding!" Wally exclaimed. He ran at super speed to pick up the hero and bring him into the infirmary, even working at top speed to fix him up. 

"Where's Bruce? That heartless douche is gonna get it this time!" Barbara demanded. The boys pointed upstairs fearfully in the hope that they'd be spared. The girls nodded and stomped upstairs, followed by a blur they assumed to be Wally. "Quick get the popcorn before they start without us," Jason ordered.

"This family is weird," Damian stated.

"Guys, a little help? Wally accidentally stitched my suit into my stab wound," Dick announced from the infirmary.