Chapter Text
Jason didn’t pick up the transmission until Raven had tried calling a third time.
He finished hogtying the three thugs he knocked out and pressed his gauntlet, a buzz bringing up the projection. The image shuddered with static, and Raven’s pale face appeared, half-hidden beneath the shadow of her cloak.
The empath masqueraded her anxiety as she always did, her voice placid—“Robin, where were you? We thought that Deathstroke…”
“M’ fine,” Jason said. “Just a little busy.” He glanced at the men on the ground, dressed as ordinary thugs, completely out cold. “I thought our sources told us Slade was headed where you were?”
“Correct, but there might be unknown factors at play. We must keep an eye out.” Raven paused. She turned to scold someone, or someones—Jason had a pretty good guess the arguing voices belonged to Speedy and Beast Boy—before she turned back, massaging her temple. She said, “The Titans have received no intel on Defiance, but it doesn’t rule out possible unforeseen complications.”
“Relax, will you?” Jason rolled his eyes where the girl couldn’t see. “A few punks won’t stop me. My God… my task had to be the easiest. Info-gathering is just an annoyance.”
“You should look out for Renegade.” Raven’s face showed no jest. “The fiend is almost as dangerous as Slade himself. Stay alert, Robin.”
“Of course. Don’t you trust me? Or are you just saying this because… because I’m only the second one wearing his mantle?”
Jason regretted it as soon as he said it—the look on Raven’s face was gut-wrenching. Jason knew the original Robin’s disappearance was a major blow to the Teen Titans, but it was too late to take it back.
“Oh my God, I didn’t mean…” he tried, wanting to fix his mistake. Raven interrupted before he could continue.
“Assure me you’ll be careful, Robin,” she said. “Deathstroke is dangerous. He is no ordinary criminal. You haven’t… you’ve never confronted him.” She stopped. Her grim face told everything—how much destruction and misery Deathstroke had caused the team. First, there was what happened with Tara. Then Trigon. And then… There was Dick.
“We can’t lose another Titan. If you find yourself in danger, make retreat your top priority. Call me or Cyborg, in case anything comes up.”
Jason sighed before replying, “Of course.”
“Raven out.”
The call ended.
Jason pressed on his gauntlet to turn off the projection before leaning on the wall, sighing.
It was the second time he ran with the Titans. The last had been the first in five years that anyone named Robin had worked with the team—a team once led by the one and only Dick Grayson.
The Titans weren’t the same since the ex-Robin vanished with the deceased Kory after that fatal encounter, and now, no one could dream of filling the void—not Jason, certainly. It was impossible to live up to the legacy of his predecessor—a predecessor Jason had never met. The Titans Tower echoed the Batcave with the hollowness Dick had left behind, a sort of… void that no one could fill.
Even when he was finally working with the team as he’d always dreamed, a scar divided Jason and the rest of the Titans, as if sheets of transparent barriers separated them. He couldn’t see or touch them, but they were there; anyone could sense it.
One couldn’t heal a scar like that easily, not by simply introducing a new Robin.
Jason sighed, leaning on the wall behind him. He tried to get up and move on to his next task. To find out what Slade wanted with the antimatter core. A totally necessary task. He mimicked Raven’s tone, mouthing out her words. He then made a face.
They all knew how much they patronized new members. They only did it to steer him away from the fight. Jason was fifteen—did they think he was fooled?
Just then, a slab of stone burst into pieces beside Jason, disrupting his thoughts.
His first reaction was to jump aside and dock. Landing close by, Jason crouched behind a wall. He checked where he’d stood, trying to gauge the weapon the attacker used. No one was nearby, and they left no traces of technology or darts where the slab had broken. And something like a sniper rifle wouldn’t shatter something this thick.
Knowing that there was just one possibility.
Among the broken pieces of the gravel, one of the larger chunks was moving. It rose into the air with seemingly no external force, and Jason knew what was coming. He rushed up, turning over to dodge. When he saw the stone turning toward him, Jason knew.
A high-pitched laugh.
“There’s a new Robin? Is that right? Guess I’ll be the judge of whether you can measure up to the original.”
It was a feminine, chime-like voice from above. Jason looked up and saw a humongous floating rock, a girl standing leisurely on top of it.
Blonde hair draped over her shoulders, the petite girl had blue eyes and the letter T over an orange backdrop on her armored chest. The girl angled her head and smirked at him. She threw a small rock into the air, catching it again.
Oh shit.
Then, right before Tara Markov could land him another hit, Jason rolled over and dodged.
He hid behind a wall before swearing in his head. Why would Terra—Teen Titans’ traitor—show up here? She was part of Defiance—Deathstroke’s team—and if she was here, then the others might also be close.
A gigantic rock hit the ground. Footsteps over the slate. The girl must be playing with stones. Jason could hear a tiny rock in Terra’s palm as she tossed it into the air.
The wind betrayed her juxtaposition. Terra’s rock grazed the tip of the Robin cape. Jason lurched in the opposite direction, knowing Tara’s power was putting him at an extreme disadvantage. The girl was human, and her powers only worked with her limited reaction time and speed. If he was fast enough and strategized his maneuvers well, he could make it out. One step ahead of her.
“Well, I think the former boy wonder had a better reflex.”
“It’s better than being a traitor, Judas,” Jason said with a sneer.
He lowered his head to dodge another flying rock. Tara sent chunks at him, lightning-fast, and Jason wondered why they’d gotten incorrect info. Donna and Raven had posted Jason here to be away from direct confrontation. But to call for help so soon? Keep letting them think of him as a useless replacement? No. He could handle it if it was only Tara.
Jason leaped and stepped on one of Tara’s levitated rocks, borrowing the boost to hop onto a nearby roof. Jason wished he could show that move to Bruce—and see the old man’s reaction; if he’d still see Jason as the inferior Robin.
Jason stood there, using his elevation to spurt. He looked back but did not see Tara, but just when he thought he’d lost her, a curved, silvery blade slashed at him.
Jason dodged. The blow came during his distraction. It nearly cut into his thigh and would have done some serious damage. Before he could recoil, Jason lost his balance, rolling before finally halting at the ledge. Dragging his body up, Jason found himself face-to-face with the wielder’s black-and-orange cowl, covering half of her face as silver locks of hair scattered below it.
Ravager? Fuck.
That was two Defiance members. Who’d show up next?
Ravager rushed at him with her sword.
Jason reacted, dropping a smoke bomb from his belt. Under the smoke’s cover, he leaped onto a neighboring roof.
They might have brought the entire team. Jason prayed Renegade was not among them. His chance of escape was slim as it was.
Something grabbed Jason by the ankle just as he was about to reach the next building.
Jason gasped, cursing before ducking to avoid another swipe of the sword.
“Nice move. Did you learn that from Daddy?” Jason taunted, unable to help himself. That was fucking stupid. Provoking an enemy wielding something that could decapitate him? Jason Todd, how tired of living are you?
Below Rose Wilson’s cowl, the corners of her lips rose.
“Not everything,” she said.
Her tone was cryptic. Jason decided not to dwell on it, even if it sounded like a mockery.
Tara had also caught up. She raised herself from the ground, standing atop a stone pillar until the top was flush with the roof. She stepped off, standing behind Jason, a stone suspended above each of her palms. The two villains cornered Jason at a ninety-degree angle.
Jason’s hands balled into fists.
If he’d known they had this many backups, he would’ve contacted the Titans earlier. But you just had to be a show-off, didn’t you?
The seriousness of the situation was catching up to him, but Jason still had hope. The two mercenaries flanked him, but they hadn’t sealed his retreat.
His hand snuck into his pocket, and before either Rose or Tara could react, Jason dropped a flash bomb. Intense light assaulted his eyes. Jason shut them, eluding Rose’s katana in his blindness, and fled toward the open, the girls’ curses ringing around and behind him.
A rock somehow shot forward, and Jason turned to evade it, letting his footfalls clank louder to confuse Tara while he bypassed her, jumping on the same pillar she had climbed up with.
As Jason dropped to the ground with a grapple, he heard a heated argument behind him.
“Stop him!” Jason suspected the decibel could tear Ravager’s throat apart.
Another swoosh sounded. Fortunately, Jason could bend his torso in time after landing. If he didn’t, the melon-sized rock might have already broken his ribs.
“I’m trying!”
Another rock bypassed him, but Jason avoided it. He began his escape on the ground, hiding in the narrow space between two abandoned buildings to avoid the sight of his enemies. But Jason couldn’t help looking back and up, making out the two figures reaching the eaves using his peripheral.
He saw one of them reaching out, and the ground cracked around him as if to engulf him. Jason took a sharp inhale, jumping before the ground could close around him. He was grateful there was enough distance between him and Tara. Trying to use her powers at this distance might cause somewhat impaired intensity and accuracy.
Tara called from behind him again, “He’s too fast!”
“How useless are you?”
“Fuck you, Rose!”
If it weren’t for the danger he was in, Jason might have laughed. But Jason didn’t dare to let his guard down. He sped, and even if he didn’t understand why Defiance was attacking him, at least he could run to some place safe. Jason understood that, at least.
He had no intention of slowing—if not for the blond appearing before him.
It caught Jason off guard.
He slowed—not the right reaction and something Bruce would’ve reprimanded—before the tall, attractive stranger.
By the time Jason saw the standard Defiance uniform, it was too late. He had seen those bright irises. Green like a gemstone and transparent like glass—Jason stared for only a second, only to see the warm sclerae turn black. He didn’t know whether it was an illusion, but the stranger vanished, and Jason’s own froze.
Every fiber in his muscles strained as if they were weighed down by hundreds of pounds of earth.
Jason gasped. But his limbs were frozen, restrained by unseen shackles like a lamb before a slaughter, giving his other adversaries enough time to catch up. It took only a dozen seconds, but understanding his dire situation was enough to send Jason into a state of panic.
Two pairs of footsteps approached. Too late, Tara and Rose were already here.
“Good job, Jericho,” Tara said. With a loud noise, stone walls rose from Jason’s feet, entombing him.
Even as control was returned to him with the mysterious young man re-materializing in front, Jason stood confused.
Jason was encased in Tara’s earth with only his head free, and he couldn’t move a finger. Tara approached with a hand raised. Rose followed until all three stood in a line. They looked like waddling ducks. If Jason wasn’t at their mercy, he might’ve even made some joke about it.
But he couldn’t laugh now.
Only then did Jason see the stranger’s face. Short, curly blond hair framed his elegant face, and the emotion he saw in his green eyes was… pity? Jason had never seen the guy. And it’s not just Jason; the entire Teen Titans team didn’t know of such a character among Defiance… It dawned on Jason that he must’ve been what had caused his paralysis.
Rose then raised her hand and gave a high five to a less-than-eager Jericho. “Well done, big bro,” she said, shifting her wrist.
Jason saw Rose coming at him with her sword. But he didn’t feel the cut of the blade as expected, only the hard handle smashing into his temple.
A buzzing sound flooded his brain. Jason’s world turned black.
+++
When Jason woke up, his ears were still buzzing. There was an ache at the side of his head, and the world spun.
The entire world, the whole fucking world, encased in stone.
They were underground.
Jason heard echoing footsteps. Three pairs walking beside him. Who was carrying him?
…Tara’s rocks, of course. The side of his face could feel the cold, rough surface as he lay suspended on the slab of stone. No wonder he’d felt weightless. Jason’s hands were secured behind his back, as were his ankles. Running his fingers over the surface of the shackles confirmed they were also compressed earth with no keyholes for prying. He had no way to free himself, unless he had super strength.
They were advancing through some kind of tunnel, the walls and ceilings uneven, unpolished like the inside of a mine. Jason couldn’t keep his eyes open with the fluorescent lights shining on his face.
A passage created with Tara’s powers. Not bad, Jason thought. For a no-good traitor, he’d even praise it as impressive.
If he wasn’t being dragged to somewhere unknown, Jason would’ve even patted her on the shoulder.
Deathstroke’s voice interrupted his thoughts. It was unexpected; the abruptness of their halt made his vision swim.
Fuck, his head didn’t feel alright. Rose’s hilt might have caused Jason a slight concussion.
“Good job, kids.”
It was followed by Tara’s impatient voice.
“Who knew it’s this hard to catch a little bird? Why the shit task, old man? What are you planning to do with him, anyway?”
“Let’s call him a… gift,” Deathstroke said. “Think of it as a reward, for an outstanding student.”
The tone and implication of these words sickened Jason. The next moment, he felt his body tilt as he fell, thrown onto the uneven ground.
Tara’s unsuspecting move bumped Jason’s head, making him groan. Panic overtook him, his breath catching in his throat.
Then Jason heard footsteps. Judging by the heaviness, it had to be Deathstroke himself.
Alarmed, Jason tried to kneel. The world tilted, and he only made a few inches before falling back.
Deathstroke continued with his monologue. “It’s done to allow someone to find their inner peace, so he can finally invest more time in his work.”
Then came the rustling of textile, a plastic wrapping unsealing, and the tap, tap on the side of something hollow.
Realizing what was going on, Jason forced himself to suppress the urge to vomit and turned to the mercenary standing above him. Deathstroke, back-lit, looking like a mountain crashing down and suffocating Jason. And in his hand… God!
Jason struggled in utter terror. Keep that needle far away from me. Don’t let the unknown liquid touch me… don’t bring the damn syringe close!
But Jason’s condition didn’t allow him much of a fight. Deathstroke squatted before him with the syringe in hand, his black-and-orange helmet flashing coolly under the fluorescent light.
“Don’t be afraid, little boy,” the mercenary said with his deep, echoing voice, as he firmly grabbed Jason’s shoulder and pushed away his obstructing cape, revealing his short-sleeved arm. “This is just something to help you sleep.”
The needle pierced his arm. Jason’s eyelids couldn’t stay open as Deathstroke pushed the clear liquid into his system.
+++
When Jason’s consciousness returned, he was in some place dark and spacious.
He was dazed, as if smoke had been cast through his head, impeding his senses. How long had passed… had Jason been unconscious? The room’s darkness made it seem larger than it probably was. Metal rotated methodically overhead—gears. And the friction between… metal and—cement? stone?—from the distant shadows.
—a sword sharpening. Right. The sound was from a blade sharpening. Once, twice, succeeding in an orderly fashion. He pulled this knowledge from his head, yet he couldn’t remember how the hell he got here.
Jason could feel his arms splayed apart above his head, secured on a shelf lined with horizontal rungs. It was a metal shelf… yes. Its iciness seeped through his cape into his skin. The cuffs around his wrists were also metal, attached to chains.
Jason tried to stay calm and analyze how long he’d been paralyzed, which could tell him whether the Teen Titans knew he was gone. But nothing here told time—the interior had no windows, let in no sunlight. It was a sealed tomb, enough to asphyxiate him with the sight alone. Jason recognized racks of weapons in the distance, a wooden Katana stand by his left, and some fitness equipment, huge workbenches, and cushions on the ground and walls—
—and the endless sound of a sword being sharpened. It hurt his head.
“I did not expect Slade to do this.”
A voice came from that same direction. It had a magnetic quality to it—the voice of a man, in his late teens or early twenties? It was a male voice that was done with puberty but still sounded rather young. The sound paralyzed Jason, and it was familiar. Jason squinted to see better. But it was so dark his eyes couldn’t focus. Only the scraping of metal was real.
“Who…” he said, a voice husky with a nasal quality to it, but Jason couldn’t keep talking because of the pain in his throat and his short-circuited thoughts.
The sharpening stopped. The voice’s owner turned to Jason. He could almost feel the touch of the inquiring gaze burning into his body.
Then there were the footsteps. Echoes, floor made of wood, and combat-friendly soles. He first saw the pale face in the shadows, veiled under a black domino mask. Then he saw the armor and the uniform, black and orange. A letter R on his left chest.
Then all his memories came back. The mission, how Defiance ambushed him. Narrow underground passage… the syringe Deathstroke held. Jason couldn’t help but suck in a shaky breath.
“Re-Renegade?” he had to force himself to squeeze out the sound, then had to frown at hearing how hoarse his voice sounded.
The tall man walked up to him, with shoulder-length hair falling on the sides of his face. The sky-blue eyes stared at him without empathy, and the well-fitted Defiance suit made Jason’s captor look more like a living myth than an actual person.
Jason was engulfed by horror. The assassin who intimidated the Teen Titans, even some Leaguers, now stood before him. Jason was restrained before him, like a piece of poultry on a chopping board.
Jason was choking on his panic. Even controlling his bodily reflexes felt hard. He coughed violently.
As he did that, Jason heard a plastic bottle unsealing when the cap was screwed open, then the mouth pressed against his lips. The cold liquid flowed into his oral cavity and throat, and the long-lost feeling of nourishment moisturized his esophagus. Jason tilted his head up to accept more, and the bottle lifted obediently with his movement.
Jason was sure he drank at least half a full bottle. The sound of gurgling water reached his ears, and the liquid flowed down the corners of his lips. It wasn’t until he tried to wipe them away that Jason realized his hands were still splayed and restrained above him.
Jason snapped back to reality. He almost sputtered from the moment of distraction before Renegade removed his hand. Jason gasped, shaking and taking a deep and greedy breath. As he panted, trying to focus his gaze, Renegade was already unhurriedly screwing the plastic cap back on.
In his panic, Jason coughed again.
He croaked out, “What does Death-what do you want with me?”
Renegade studied him as Jason numbly stared back, the other wearing a look that seemed like he could easily see through all his protective guises, and it triggered some alertness in Jason.
“I have to admit, you’re competent,” Renegade said. “Evading Ravager and Terra for so long. It wasn’t a feat to be taken lightly.”
Jason swallowed. Renegade’s tone disturbed him, and he couldn’t think of a response.
In the next moment, the man placed the half-empty water bottle at his feet. Renegade straightened up and tidied his leather gloves—he was dressed in all black except for the silver armor and the side of orange on his suit, like Deathstroke’s mask—then Jason watched as the man lowered his head, holding the domino mask using his thumb and three fingers, and took it off.
Renegade looked up and smirked at him.
“Glad to meet you finally, Little Wing.”
Jason couldn’t help but suck in a mouthful of cold air before his breath was caught in his throat.
“Dick Grayson,” he said, more like talking to himself.
He couldn’t be mistaken. Although the face was much more mature than it looked five years ago, its features remained largely unchanged. Even if he’d never met the actual person, Jason had seen countless photos and surveillance of the former Robin before he vanished years ago. The face in front of him was just more polished—the brows more sculpted, the face more shapely, and the hair longer than it had been—but Dick’s intoxicating blue eyes hadn’t changed a bit.
Jason couldn’t believe it was true. Trying to surpass his predecessor—or at the very least live up to others’ expectations—Jason had almost obsessively studied the recorded Batcave surveillance tapes, trying to reproduce every move Grayson had perfected.
“In the flesh,” Dick said. He grinned, but the raised corners of his lips and those ivory teeth only made him more threatening.
But how was this possible? How could the first Robin be the same person as the infamous Renegade?
“How...?” Jason began. His face must brim with questions.
“I left the Titans,” Dick said, voice indifferent, “and sought Deathstroke. He used to pester me about becoming his apprentice. I kept refusing the deal. But then I finally changed my mind.”
“Do the Titans know you are—” Jason swallowed, but the words were forced back. He almost choked.
His hands wriggled in the shackles, and he was suddenly too aware of his situation. Captured and tied up wasn’t how Jason imagined he would meet his predecessor for the first time. The current Robin had to remind himself that Grayson was the same villain known as Renegade, whom he’d always feared. Not to mention he’d probably also been the one to restrain Jason in this awkward position.
“That I’m Renegade?” Dick finished for him. He dropped his eyes and lightly caressed the metal shelf. “No, they don’t. Bruce is the only person who knows.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “But he told me he didn’t know what happened to you.”
“It’s just like Bruce to lie about something like this, isn’t it?” Dick said with a hint of pride. “What else did he tell you? Like I bravely sacrificed myself to protect the innocent, for instance?”
Jason closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. Think hard and analyze the situation.
“Dick, I don’t know what happened to you,” he said, “but I can listen. If you release me, then you can tell me everything.”
Dick stared at him with interest, making a small sound of acknowledgment under his breath. “Although I wasn’t informed of your visit, we both know Deathstroke didn’t send you here for us to engage in counseling. Isn’t that right, Little Wing?”
Jason took a deep breath.
“You don’t have to listen to Deathstroke. You’re not his fucking slave, Dick. I know you can leave if you want to.”
His words brought laughter out of Grayson’s mouth. “You thought Deathstroke forced me into my role? Your naivete is almost adorable, Robin.”
Jason’s scalp tingled, and the way Renegade stressed his title gave him goosebumps for reasons unknown. Yet Grayson didn’t notice his abnormality. Instead, he continued to snort out a few more laughs, turning away from Jason, barely keeping his posture straight.
From this angle, the Renegade suit and armor made the lines of the muscles on his back look streamlined, and his half-length hair falling and dropping onto his upper arm as he was leaning forward. For a moment, knowing who Renegade was made it harder for Jason to look at Dick, his past fantasies rushing back with greater vividity. Though the reality was heaps different from what Jason had expected.
Jason gritted his teeth and reminded himself that this wasn’t the time to be preoccupied. While Dick’s attention was elsewhere, Jason fumbled through the hidden pockets on his wrists. His fingers found the prying tools in his gauntlet, having escaped detection. It seemed neither Dick nor Deathstroke had thought to look there. Then he worked on the locks as calmly as he could.
“According to Deathstroke, Defiance might have let you get away if it weren’t for Jericho. You need to know Tara and Rose were some of Deathstroke’s proudest apprentices… elite assassins he taught using his skills,” Dick said, walking to his left. A wooden stand stood on his left-hand side where swords were displayed. Humming, Dick’s gloved fingers stroked the sheath surface of a blade. “Well. Part of it, at least.”
Jason’s eyes widened as he finally realized something.
“Rose—you are the one who taught her how to use a sword?”
Without even looking back, Dick paused slightly. He took the blade and turned around.
“Trained her,” he corrected. “As per her father’s request.”
Looking at him from the front, the youth’s athletic figure, hidden beneath all those armors, looked dashing and attractive beyond words.
“You did well,” Dick said. “I would have praised you—I didn’t loathe you for taking my place on the Teen Titans.”
The spiteful tone came out of him like he was chatting about tomorrow’s supper. Jason couldn’t breathe.
Dick wasn’t finished.
“So Batman found another boy to replace me? It doesn’t matter one bit. I know it will happen eventually. But Titans were my home; they were my team, my friends, and my family. To let another Robin join the team? That was unforgivable.” Hatred was dripping from his tone, eroding Jason’s skin like acid.
Jason opened his mouth to say something, but words seemed to stick in his throat. Instead, he closed his eyes, trying to digest what the other had said, attempting to understand what he meant.
Don’t panic, Jason Todd, he told himself, remember your training. Keep talking to him and make conversation. Say anything to keep the exchange going. Distract him. Don’t let him take notice of those tiny movements your hands are making.
“But if you cared so much,” Jason croaked, “then why did you go to Deathstroke?”
“Slade was just like me. Focused, serious, and determined. The Titans were my most trusted and cherished friends, yet they have failed to do everything they could to prevent the tragedy from happening. It was their mistakes that led to Kory’s death, Little Wing. If I had sought Deathstroke from the beginning, none of that would’ve happened. I only regret it took me this long to understand this. By the time I did, revenge was the only thing left.”
“But how can you do this? You’ve left no traces when you were gone. Everyone was worried. They wondered what had happened to you. Rae and Donna, they—”
Dick’s sneers shut Jason up. “Would they do the same for Kory?”
Perhaps satisfied with seeing how Jason tried but failed to refute, eventually rendered speechless, Dick continued. “Let me tell you. When Kory died, no one shared my pain. I knelt beside her, crying and calling her name. ‘Please, please don’t die on me, Star.’ But what’s the point? She’s dead. And if I stayed with the Teen Titans, I would never have avenged her. Deathstroke’s methods were the only way to prevent the tragedy from happening again.”
The locks on the cuffs were giving, but Dick’s words bewildered Jason, and he found it difficult to look away.
Dick passed the sword between his hands, turning to face Jason.
“To be honest,” he said, “I did not expect Slade to do this, bringing you to me. I was not prepared. I’m not sure what I should do.”
“Dick, please.” Jason closed his eyes in dread, hating his own desperate and trembling voice. “Don’t let Deathstroke have his way. Free me and we can talk.”
But Dick didn’t move.
“Don’t you want to know what happened? How is it you’d fall victim to a mission with such a low-risk factor? What’s the real reason you failed?”
Dick stood upright. The abrupt movement made Jason flinch. Yet the only thing Dick did was raise his hand and brush the boy’s cheek with his knuckles, the rough leather rubbing against his delicate skin. Jason forced himself to stay still, daring not to make a move.
“Let me tell you why. That you are here is no accident,” Dick said. “The information you received was just a cover-up. That someone hired Deathstroke to assassinate the lead scientist and to retrieve their experiment was but a guise to divert the Teen Titans. Slade’s goal had always been you. He said he hoped by having you I could recover what I had lost. That he hoped by having my successor at my mercy, I’d be able to find peace again. What do you think he meant? Robin, what do you think Slade wanted me to do to you?”
Jaso’s breath was caught in his throat.
“You… you’re a fucking maniac.”
“Perhaps,” Dick said. He mused, “but this is a real problem. Deathstroke threw me a hard card, didn’t he? You know, there are just too many options.”
Jason forced his body to stop shaking. He felt he should say something. Anything. Even a silly joke to lighten up the mood.
“How about letting me go, huh? Is that an option?” Jason forced himself to grin.
But Dick just watched him, his face grim, acting as if Jason was mad.
“You know I will never do that, Little Wing.”
This time, Jason couldn’t keep down his rage.
“Fuck! You can’t keep me here forever!”
“You’re right,” Dick said, much to Jason’s disbelief. “It makes no sense to keep you without… doing anything with you. You’re healthy, alive, full of potential. It’s hard to justify, isn’t it?”
Jason’s hands contracted in his shackles. One cuff had already been unlocked. Soon, the other would join it.
“What do you…” Jason swallowed. He forced himself to say, “What will you do to me?”
“Good question. Maybe Slade thought I’d want to see you suffer. Maybe he thought I wanted you dead. Or remove a finger and send it back to my former team as a gift. Perhaps he thought taking my anger out on my successor could give me peace. I’ve considered all of those. But upon meeting you… I have other ideas.”
Just a little more…
Jason stared at the man in front of him, unblinking and mesmerized, as if trying to decipher Dick’s intention through his expression. But Dick’s eyes were cold and unrevealing. It bothered Jason how Dick’s eyes paused briefly on his face… and collar.
Crack. The shackle swung open.
Freed, Jason wasted no time landing on the floor. Making sure of his sturdy stance, he launched toward the door, trying his best to broaden the distance between himself and Renegade.
For a moment, there was no sound. Dick stood there, motionless.
“You shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t a wise move.”
A warning alarm rang in his head, constraining Jason’s throat and making him choke.
The next moment, his kidnapper acted. Making no sound, Renegade slid through the darkness like a shadow, and only seconds had passed before Jason sensed an armored knee embedding into the small of his back, knocking him to the ground.
The pressure cut off Jason’s gasp of surprise. Dick’s knee pinned him to the ground, using his weight to keep him from moving.
“Do you think your pathetic little tricks can escape me?” The voice dripped with mockery. “I was the first Robin, brat. You will pay for this little stunt of yours.”
Jason tried to struggle, but Dick caught his right wrist before twisting it back, his left pinned by his own body. Jason’s efforts were fruitless.
“Let me up, Dick!” Jason pleaded. “Please, just tell me what you want!”
Dick didn’t answer; his breath was so light Jason couldn’t hear it. Jason felt Dick’s hand dropping, brushing a strand of his hair and exposing the skin behind his ear, where cool air caused goosebumps to form on the back of his neck.
Jason froze. Dick’s fingers were so close to the most sensitive part of his body; Jason was completely at his mercy. He couldn’t stop quivering.
“I told you. You are not leaving.”
Jason took a deep breath. “You can’t keep me here forever. The Titans will find me. Batman will, too.”
Dick’s voice sounded impressed. “Oh. Thanks for reminding me—I almost forgot.”
The leg withdrew. The uncomfortable metal knee stopped digging into his flesh, and Jason could sense Renegade pulling back and getting up. But when he tried to get up himself, a tight grip caught his hair and smashed his head to the floor.
Dazed, Jason’s cry was caught in his throat. His forehead experienced great pain, and he lost his will to resist for a moment. Jason could do nothing besides try to suppress the whimper from his lips.
He heard footsteps receding before stopping at the worktable. Dick picked something up, returning unhurriedly.
A hand grabbed Jason’s shoulder and turned his body over. The blurry figure of Renegade crouched on one knee, holding an unknown instrument about the size of a pager. He saw Dick’s hand reaching back, retrieving a folded dagger from his belt, and the blade releasing from its handle with a click.
Seeing the blade sounded alarms in Jason’s head. Despite the pain, Jason struggled in his frenzied panic.
Dick suppressed all Jason’s efforts with one knee.
He pressed something on the back of the instrument, turning it on. The laser light shone on Jason’s body.
“I almost forgot Batman would plant a tracker inside his Robin.”
Dick scanned every part of Jason’s limbs and torso with the metal scanner, the projected red dot crawling over the Robin suit like a ladybug.
“With our base so deep underground, they’d have no way of tracking it. After they captured you, Tara led the team underground, as per our normal procedures, to evade tracking. By the time they trace back to where you disappeared, you’d be long gone.”
“Stay away from me.” Dick’s intention dawned on him. Jason’s breath quickened, and his heartbeat rose. “You sick bastard! Asshole! Get away from me!”
“Don’t worry,” Dick said, “I’m experienced with this.”
Shifting his lower arm, Dick caught the hem of his sleeve between his teeth and gave it a tug. He presented Jason with the inside of his upper arm, where a faint scar could be seen, just short of two inches and faint in the dark.
“As long as you don’t struggle, you won’t even see the scar when I finish.”
Jason’s eyes widened. It made sense, but Jason just never thought Dick might’ve dug out his own tracker to evade Bruce.
The scanner beeped, locating the tracker in his left thigh easily.
Jason’s resolution weakened. He knew he couldn’t stop this from happening.
“Come on, Dick,” Jason said. “Don’t do this. Talk to me, but don’t… if Bruce finds out…”
Dick didn’t bother to respond. The moment the knife cut into his leg, the agony rendered Jason’s mind blank. The first moment it happened, Jason screamed. But the white noise in his head quickly dissipated. Jason regained his composure after a few seconds. He forced himself to swallow the remaining torture and endure it until Dick took the tiny piece of metal out of his flesh with a pair of tweezers.
Through his bleary eyes, Jason saw Dick wrapping the bloody tracker in a wad of gauze. Dick retired the dagger into his belt, still pinching the small, blood-soaked gauze between his fingers, giving Jason a good look.
“Neither the Titans nor Bruce can find you now.”
Jason winced from the pain, unable to answer.
