Chapter Text
...
Dick leaned back against the wall. There was a window above him that had moonlight drifting through. Insomnia was keeping him up this time. Between his insomnia and nightmares, sleep was a rare treat. Except, of course, when the drugs were injected into his bloodstream. Then, the world fell away.
Dick looked up when the door to his prison opened. Ra's entered the room and considered Dick who was sitting on the floor. What did the immortal want now?
"It has been brought to my attention that you have not been sleeping, Al Zala," observed Ra's.
Dick shrugged and commented dryly, "My struggles with insomnia has never been a secret, Ra's."
Ra's stepped closer. The man's gaze was intense and Dick met it evenly. Ra's' expression softened. Almost fondness in his face. The man's fingers reached to run through his hair. Dick forced himself to remain still.
"You are so stubborn," mused Ra's, his tone almost soft, "So determined to resist. You were always the hardest to control of any of my Ghosts. I have to wonder why that is. Is it because of your childhood? Or perhaps your mentorship?"
"Maybe I just don't like being controlled," remarked Dick snarkily, "Ask Slade. He knows it just as well as you do."
"True," hummed Ra's in thought, "Though Deathstroke's methods differ from mine. I prefer a gentler touch to training. He has no such reservations."
Gentle his ass. Ra's was about as gentle as Bruce was. Perfection was the only acceptable form. Anything less was weakness.
"Go away," mumbled Dick, closing his eyes, "I don't have the energy to argue with you. Let me suffer in peace."
"Come," directed Ra's and held out a helping hand, "You may join me in the study. It is not ideal but it will be preferable to laying here in the dark."
What was the catch? There was no way Ra's was offering him this. Right?
"Fine," agreed Dick after a minute of internal debate, taking the offered hand, "Thanks."
Ra's pulled him to his feet and kept a hand on his shoulder. He guided him to the same study from his attempted escape. It was a lot warmer than his cell. The fire had a warm, orange glow. Dick went to the couch and dropped onto it. While Ra's went to his desk.
...
Ra's looked up when he heard Al Zala's breathing earned out an hour later. The younger male had fallen asleep. His head was tilted to the side and his chest was steadily rising. Finally...
Until an explosion rocked part of the castle. So the heroes were finally making their move. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this but they were predictable. Richard sat up his eyes wide but alert his training kicking in. Despite the fighting against his training, all Ghosts had it ingrained to protect Ra's into them. Richard was no different. He was on his feet in a moment his blue eyes on the door. Probably waiting for a threat to enter the room. The explosions continued to shake the building.
"Richard, sit," commanded Ra's.
There was the spark of defiance but his body gave the barest twitch. Like he was fighting the instinct to obey. Ra's shook his head and placed a hand on the younger's shoulder to keep him from moving forward. Muscles jumped beneath his hand, and the young man tensed. He did not attack Ra's however. Instead, his gaze was locked on the door. Waiting. Watching.
"Al Zala," said Ra's firmly, "Sit."
"I..." Began the younger male, shaking his head and then pressing a hand to his temple.
"Is your head hurting?" Asked Ra's in concern.
It happened sometimes with the Ghosts. They would have moments of disorientation and confusion. When the mental conditioning conflicted with their sense of self. Given how long it'd been since Richard trained as a Ghost, he was a little surprised it was happening. The effects should have worn off by now.
"Richard, sit," he reiterated and this time he was obeyed.
Good, the young man wasn't completely lost to him yet. He just needed time and none of the distractions this was causing. Though, that was easier said than done. Especially with the heroes attempting to retrieve the former vigilante. No doubt his grandson was leading the charge. Though it was unlikely Damian would make it to the Ghost Wing. Unless Al Sahim was with them.
The door was flung open despite the sounds of battle being elsewhere. A distraction then. Very clever. Three figures entered, only one of them was familiar to Ra's. His grandson was wearing his Robin costume and was leading two figures that didn't belong to any hero that Ra's knew of. Civilians? In Nanda Parbat? How... interesting. Richard had gotten to his feet again but his expression was conflicted.
"Grandfather," greeted Damian, his tone cold, "I've come to take, Richard home."
"Damian," returned Ra's, meeting his gaze, "You can't take one of the Ghosts. You know this. Or have you forgotten?"
"Matt," said Richard in a strangled voice, "You can't be here."
"Neal, calm down," ordered the taller of the two unknown men, his hazel eyes focused on the former vigilante.
"Richard," interrupted Ra's.
Richard looked between them. There was a protectiveness in the younger man's eyes and he knew exactly what Ra's was capable of. Yet, the conflict was there as well. Richard's shoulders were tight and his fists were clenched at his side. The shorter of the two was watching him, his brown eyes hidden behind glasses. There was an intelligence behind those eyes. They were not fighters, these two, and yet they were here. Interesting...
"Leave," ordered Ra's to the two, "or die. Your choice."
"Stay away from Matt and Moz," snapped Richard, his body tense as he turned to face Ra's.
Even unarmed it seemed he was ready to fight Ra's in order to protect them. It seemed he needed to put them down then. If they were distracting Richard from his training. Before he could though another body came through the door this one familiar in its orange and black gear. Richard's face lost all color. Deathstroke. The mercenary was here. That was unexpected.
"Kid," greeted the mercenary, his gun was drawn, but it wasn't aimed at anyone in the room.
"Slade," breathed the younger man, his body tensing, "What are doing here?"
"Getting you," stated the other, his tone implying that the answer was obvious, "Go."
Richard stepped back closer to his allies. Deathstroke ordered, "Kid, now!"
That did it. Richard lunged towards the others and grabbed the two civilians. Shoving them both at his grandson, he shouted, "Run!"