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Slade rarely ever got messages from Dick’s brothers - most of the Bat family disapproved of their relationship with the issues in morality and the large age gap between them. However, he was sent one from Red Robin that was ominous:
<Safehouse 17. Check up on Dick tonight. It’s the anniversary of something he should never have gone through.>
As Slade went towards Dick’s many safehouses, he wondered what Tim could mean by that. Dick had seen many things in his lifetime, including the loss of friends and his parents, but none of the death anniversaries Dick told him about fell on this day. The two often shared important dates, including days of grief and mourning. It confused Slade - what could have happened to Dick that he didn’t feel comfortable sharing?
When Slade got to Safehouse 17, one of Dick's most used safehouses, he noticed all the lights were off. That wasn't right - was Dick not there yet? Not waiting to be sure, Slade went to disable the security system on the door…only to find it unlocked. Okay, something was definitely up - Dick didn't leave his safehouses unprotected. In fact, Dick would obsessively check all the locks on the windows and doors whenever they finished up with any of their properties because they never knew when they'd be back.
Slade stepped inside. While all the lights were off, the house was in a bit of disarray - the pillows and blankets on the sofa had been pulled off and strewn about haphazardly. Nothing else looked out of place. As he walked inside, Slade picked up the pillows and blankets, putting them back where they belonged as he walked around the apartment’s living room.
He picked up on a distressed heartbeat. Turns out that Dick was in the safehouse. Slade quickly removed his Deathstroke armor - if Dick was already in distress, seeing him with his weapons on would only be seen as dangerous. After stripping down to his under clothes, an undershirt and boxers, Slade went towards the heartbeat, which was surprisingly coming from the bathroom. While the lights were still off, Slade could hear the water running.
“I’m coming in, Pretty Bird.” Without waiting for a response, Slade entered the bathroom and turned the light on. The shower was running and the curtain was closed. Slade stepped forward and pulled back the curtain. Curled up in the back of the shower, in the fetal position, was Dick, still fully clothed.
Slade noticed him shivering and sighed, “Jesus kid, are you trying to catch a cold?” He turned off the cold water and let the warm water run in order to counteract the cold water. Slade sat at the edge of the tub, waiting silently for a moment - he didn’t just want to grab Dick and scare him.
It took a long minute before Dick stopped shivering and looked up at him, “Sl…Slade.” Jeez, Dick looked bad; his eyes were puffy and red, his clothes stuck to his skin, his knuckles were white from holding onto his knees for dear life. His gaze was glassy, almost like he had taken some type of drug or drank alcohol. Dick extended a hand and then immediately brought it back to his body in a fearful way.
Slade got up and went to their towel closet. After getting their biggest, fluffiest towel, he sat at the edge of the shower again, saying, “Come on, there’s no need to self-flagellate, pretty bird. Let’s get out of there.”
Dick shook his head, his voice was hoarse from the cold (jeez, how long had he been there before Tim called?), “No…can’t…I’m dirty.”
Slade rolled his eyes, saying, “You’re clean, Grayson. You’ve been in the water for a while by the looks of it.”
Dick shook his head, saying, “No, I’m dirty inside…under my skin…I keep trying to wash her away…I can’t wash her away Slade…she won’t go away…” Slade frowned, he had heard similar things told to him by victims of assault who hired him to take out their assailants. Despite being victims, most of the people seeking revenge for assault told Slade that they felt dirty and that their rapist continued haunting them long after the event. It clicked for Slade then that Dick had been dissociating and trying to wash away his trauma.
Slade was furious; he wanted to know who he had to hurt for hurting his lover. He asked Dick as he turned off the overhead shower, “What happened, pretty bird? Who is under your skin?”
Dick stuttered, “T-Tartan…tula…she forced me…I couldn’t…” Slade grit his teeth in anger. He kept the name in the back of his mind as he scooted closer to Dick.
“Dick, it’s okay to feel dirty. I’m dirty too, I’ve killed people. But don’t feel shame for what happened - you’re a survivor.” Dick looked at him like he did not believe what Slade was saying. “Let me dry you off, Grayson. I’ll stay by your side all night.” Those words were what Dick needed to hear, because he finally got out of the fetal position and hugged Slade.
Slade gently toweled Dick off and helped him out of the tub. Undressing him from the wet clothes took time, as Dick kept shying away from his lover as a trauma response. When he was naked, Slade got him some blankets to wrap himself with, believing that putting any clothes on might trigger Dick again.
When they got to the bed, Slade got Dick under the covers and asked, “Do you want me in or outside the covers?” The sheets on the bed could act as a barrier between them that might make Dick feel safer.
Dick shook his head and told him, “Want you inside the bed…you’re not her…I want someone who…who loves me.” Slade smiled softly and slipped under the covers with Dick, leaving space between them so Dick could set his boundaries. Dick came closer and wrapped his arms around Slade - Slade was comfort for him.
“Love you…love you Slade.”
“Love you too, brat. Now sleep, I’m not going anywhere.”
Once Dick began to fall into a state of sleep, Slade began looking up Tarantula on his phone. This time, he would be the one placing a hit and getting revenge.