Jericho

Sofas and Truths

Warning: This chapter may not be suitable for some readers.

Three weeks later, life had returned to somewhat normalcy. Both Dick and Joey were back at work, back in their routine. Dick had been keeping to the shadows on his nightly patrols. Until Batman came up with a plan to deal with the mercenary, he didn't want to risk having a run in with the father-son duo. So far his plan of staying hidden was working.

Joey was still doing the late shift, but while he was at home he made sure Dick was eating, sleeping and taking care of himself. It was something Bruce had secretly made him promise before they had left Wayne Manor the day after the storm. Dick seemed to be getting his mental and physical health back on track.

It was early afternoon. Dick was at work and Joey had been up for about an hour. Sat on the sofa with a mug of coffee, pen between his fingers. He was trying his hand at songwriting. With the damage to his vocal cords, he couldn't sing for shit. But he figured he could find someone to sing while he played. For the moment he was doing his best to sing under his breath, but it sounded like crap and it was rubbing his throat raw. He was drawn away from his playing by the sound of the doorbell. Placing the pen behind his ear, Joey walked over to the intercom.

'Hello?' His voice was raspy again, it hurt to talk.

'Let me up.'

'Dad?'

'We need to talk, let me up.'

Joey pressed the door release and opened the front door. After a few minutes, Slade appeared in the stairwell.

'What do you want?' Asked Joey, rubbing his throat.

Slade ignored him for the moment, letting himself into the apartment. Joey shut the door behind them and crossed his arms over his chest.

'Where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you for weeks.'

'There was an incident. Dick needed me.' Said Joey, that was all he was prepared to tell him. He didn't want Slade to know about Dick's fragile mental state, his father had a habit of using people's weaknesses against them.

Slade didn't seem happy with the answer. He huffed angrily, then took a look around the flat. His eyes came to rest on a framed photo on the coffee table, he went and picked it up. It was a picture of the two young men. Dick had jumped on Joey's back with a camera in his hands. It was a little blurry, but it was the first photo they had of the two of them.

Joey swallowed as he watched his dad looking at the picture. He was nervous, he could feel the rage rolling off Slade.

'We're doing it tonight.' said Slade bluntly. 'We're going to draw him out and take him down.'

'No. I want out of this. I have a real chance of making a life here. I won't throw that away.'

Slade approached him, the picture still in his hand. His one good eye was glaring daggers.

'You will. We had a deal.' He looked down at the picture in his hand. 'He's a good-looking man your cop. It would be a shame if he had an unfortunate accident whilst on duty.'

Joey glared right back.

'Don't you dare go anywhere near him. I swear I'll...'

'You'll what Joseph? Everything you are is because of me. Without me, you would still be living rough and silent. Or did you forget that it was me who paid for the operation to give you back your voice.'

Joey went silent, looking down at the ground.

'I'll do it. Just stay away from Dick.'

Slade gave him the photo and headed for the door.