#I've been writing about people being choked quite often lately might I have a kink (shocked pikachu face)

[zeroducks-2]

Could I ask for a number 10 or 21?? Whatever you want. Both sound insane for sladick. <3

10. "Don't you dare" + 21. "Say my name" - Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

(TW drowning, non-descriptive torture)

Waterboarding isn't the type of torture that should be attempted by amateurs, given that everything can go very wrong in a matter of seconds.

Dick is well capable of holding his breath underwater for more than five minutes. Not that much more than five minutes, but still. And it's probably because of it that his "interviewer" gets a bit overexcited, and decides to just... hold his head into the metal vat, without letting him up. At all. Dick makes a show of thrashing and trying to kick after less than ninety seconds, but it doesn't work and the asshole clubs him at the base of his back, strong enough for something in his pelvis to break, and Dick's focus is gone.

Water starts getting in his lungs and panic is quick to set in, but adrenaline fuels his burning muscles as Dick forcefully emerges with a snap, nape colliding with that fucker's face accompanied by the telltale crack of a nose breaking. And just like that he's out of the water but he still can't breathe. Regardless of how much he tries to cough and hack, his lungs stay full and it's with more rising panic that he realizes to be suffocating on the floor of the interrogation room.

He doesn't really feel it when someone lifts him up and cuts the rope around his wrists, he just registers that his arms now are free and there's pressure just below his rib-cage, then nothing, then a blow that forces him to bend over and expel a mouthful of water.

«Don't you dare.» A snarl comes from behind his back, then there's another blow to his upper abdomen, upsetting his already broken ribs, and Dick would likely scream if it wasn't that there is no room for air in his lungs. More water comes out. «Don't you fucking dare, kid. Breathe.»

Dick tries his best, fumbling for air and managing a strangled cry when more pressure forces him to cough, and finally he manages to gasp and draw a sliver of air in.

Again he's not sure exactly what happens after that, but at some point he's being held against someone's side, still mildly coughing but he's pretty sure he isn't going to die at this point. He chances a look around and sees the man who was interrogating him; he's lying face down in a pool of blood, and Dick's eyes narrow, he can't have killed him. He broke his nose, didn't he? But just that, the man shouldn't be dead. What the hell.

«There you are.»

Dick's head gets pulled up as he's held more upright, and he manages to sit up with a grunt, ignoring the pain all over. He frowns at the black and orange of the man's mask, and his addled brain puts together that Deathstroke is the one who killed Dick's torturer; all that blood comes from a bullet in the head, not a stupid broken nose. «Look up here.» There's a quiet hiss of smoke and then the man's helmet goes, showing gray hair and a sharp blue eye. Dick winces at his frown and looks away, but the other snaps his fingers and makes him reflexively look back. «Say my name.»

«Hn. Slade.» He croaks, but a moment later he's surprised to see the man's expression distend in relief.

«Yeah.» Slade roughly runs a hand through his damp hair on the nape, and weird as it is to acknowledge it, holds him tighter for a moment. «You're okay.»

«Were you... hah... doubting it...?» He rasps out, forcing a grin, and the man replies with a glare.

«What the hell came into you.» Slade pinches his chin with his usual "no arguments" tone, his glower staying. «I'm the one who decides when you work alone and when not. You were not supposed to take initiative.»

«What are you gonna do?» Dick coughs, having to turn around to expel more water. Slade lets him, helping him stay up in the process. «...punish me?»

«You know very well that I should.»

That's what Slade would normally do for a job badly done. It hasn't happened in a while though, and it's not like Dick remembers it fondly, but also... well, he kind of thinks he deserves it, because he really did mess up this time. He's gotten himself captured, to name one. Fledgling nonsense, that's what this is. At least he didn't speak a word and revealed absolutely nothing, even if it resulted in almost an entire week of starvation, a leg broken in two parts, a dislocated shoulder, contusions over the entirety of his back...

«Did they-» Slade narrows his eye and a flash passes through it, something wild that in another situation would make Dick wary. «Did they touch you...?»

Dick knows what that means. He shakes his head, not that it would change the fate of the people who captured him. He knows they're all dead already, or anyway they will be soon. But... at least it can help Slade's peace of mind. It's going to take a bit more convincing though, given the searching stare and the way the man grips him tight. Dick sighs and it sounds wet like he's had a chest infection, and tightens both hands on the man's biceps, forcing his swollen left arm to move.

«They didn't.» He says, trying to sound as assured as he can. «They didn't, Slade, I swear. They just beat me up. They wanted to know about you but they didn't make it personal... just this one,» he nods to the body of the man who went this close to drowning him. «I guess he had a few screws loose. But the others were, heh... pretty professional.»

The lines of Slade's face remain hard but there's something that unspools in his expression, Dick can tell. «Alright.» He concedes, touching a thumb to Dick's cheek subtly and briefly enough that Dick isn't sure he hasn't imagined it. «Now let's get out of here.»

Thank you for asking anon ♥ Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)