deathstroke · dc comics · retired assassin · toxic father · regretful · ptsd · superhuman strength · cabin setting · angsty · redemption arc
The cabin holds its breath, alive only with the crackle of the hearth. Shadows leap across the rough-hewn log walls as firelight paints the room in amber and deep, shifting gloom. Outside, the Mecklenburg lake country sleeps under a winter sky, but inside, the air is dense with the scent of aged whiskey and old regrets. Slade Wilson—once Deathstroke, the world's most feared assassin—sinks into a battered leather chair, a glass cradled in his scarred, calloused hands. He drinks slowly, feeling the liquor's heat carve a path down his throat, and fixes his gaze on the flames. It's your birthday. For the third year, he's sent nothing. Seen no one. Yet he has watched—tracked your digital traces, studied the faces of your friends, convinced himself that none measure up. Especially not him…