Red

by Onan

Summary:

"You put me here!" He cried. The inky black veins crawling up his throat and jaw were unmistakable, "The one person who was obligated to prevent this! To care for me!"
"Stand down Dick" Bruce ordered.
Dick snarled in response, dark red, nearly black droplets clinging to his dark locks.

 

When Dick was asked what his favorite color was as a child, his answer was 'all of them'.

As time went on, and reality set in, the magic behind all those colors seemed to fade and he found he preferred blue. It was always a good primary color, reliable, and well-liked. No one disliked the color blue....

 

Not anymore. Red is much more suitable.

Notes:

Hey there! here is the sequel to Blue. The second and final part of the series: Black and Blue and Red All Over. Let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Notes:

Hey there! Here's chapter 1. Let me know what you think

Jason crushed the butt of his cigarette and tossed it over his shoulder. He watched it fall the remaining 5 stories below him before he climbed into his apartment through the window. With the facial recognition he’d placed over the tempered glass corners, climbing into the window instead of unlocking the half-broken door seemed a much better option at this rate. His chest started vibrating and he reached into his pocket to pull out his cell. He rolled his eyes with a huff of breath when he saw the replacement’s 13th attempt to call him today. Most of the time Bruce was pressuring Tim or Damian to get him on the phone somehow, but every now and then they had a legitimate question for him.

‘Fuck that’ he thought and muted the call, throwing it on his bed. He made his way to his dingy, half-lit bathroom for a long-needed shower. He’d been out checking on his shipment warehouses for the last few days and wearing his Redhood helmet almost 24/7 was exhausting. He bent over the chipped sink and let his head drop down with a dramatic sigh. He tensed his muscles before letting everything shake loose. He pushed himself up before his reflection caught his attention. Dick used to comfort him and tell him his eyes were eye-catching and lady magnets after his resurrection, but nowadays it just gave him a better excuse to wear sunglasses inside. He had obvious bags forming under his eyes and that, paired with his bleached tuft of hair, seemed to add years onto his face without actually making him older. I look sad, he thought in a detached manner.

Ever since he’d stormed out of the cave, he’d done his best to separate himself from Bruce Wayne and Batman’s influences. He’d begun wearing his hair a little shorter along the neckline and traded out his uniform for something more comfortable. He could hear Bruce’s admonishment in his ear every time he chose cargo pants over tight spandex or thinner Kevlar, but it filled him with greater motivation to choose something so binary to the Dark Knight. He kept his old guns and holsters but the more time he spent focusing on gang activity, the more he realized that having a leather jacket or something to act as a buffer was usually the way to go; so he threw out the one Bruce gifted him and found another. He’d switched out his black bat design for a red one and liked to think that it was a bleeding bat and not a prospering one.

He gave his reflection a weak glare before shrugging his jacket off and letting that join his boots and gloves. He hung his holstered guns on the external doorknob to protect them from too much steam before he let himself prune up in a shower so hot, Dickie would be proud. Jason was almost amicable by the time he exited. He’d had a moment to down a coffee, eat some snacks, soap up, and scrub down all the filth of his opponents and underlings. He was actually considering taking some me-time to go scroll on his phone or turn in early for the night. That was until he entered his kitchen and found the replacement sitting at his kitchen island like he owned the place.

Jason walked past him and placed his cup in the sink before grabbing a granola bar and making for the hallway, “You can’t ignore me again, Jason. I have the next few days free. I can wait you out” Tim said.

Jason kicked the stool Tim sat on as he passed, earning him a grunt from Tim as he hit the counter with his middle, “Oops, sorry didn’t see ya there. What did you need again?”

Tim rubbed his middle and glared at Jason, “Real mature, listen-”

“No” Jason cut him off, “You listen. I’ve had a shit week and obviously, you have too, or you would’ve clued into why I’ve ignored all 84 billion of your calls. Tell Bruce to stop trying-or better yet, tell him to try when the situation calls for it, and not after he’s fucked over every relationship and person involved, hmm?”

Jason turned to go, a toodaloo on his tongue when Tim spoke, “It’s not about Bruce. I had to wait till he and Damian went on patrol before coming over, “It’s Dick”

Jason stopped walking and paused. He saw his bedroom doorway and the way the edge of his bed called to him. He could almost feel how relaxing and calming it would be to close his eyes for longer than a few minutes. He sighed, “Fine, what the fuck is it that I don’t know?”

Tim glared at him, “Lots” Tim sassed, “But specifically for Dick? Well I found something that might help your search”

“I’m not-”

“Don’t even try Jason, I’m not as stupid as you try to act I am” 

“Dude it’s been 2 years. Dickhead disappeared with his personal pervert, and there’s a reason why we haven’t heard from or seen them since”

“Is that why you’ve been following every single one of Deathstroek’s completed contracts since then?” Tim’s expression fell flat, “Don’t even try with me, Jason. I’ve been following them too. My map is almost the same as yours and I’m on every anonymous hit and contract site there is”

Jason crossed his arms, “Then why haven’t you brought back our precious golden child yet, Timbo?”

Tim pushed away from the counter to face Jason more directly, “You and I both know finding Dick and taking him from Deathstroke are two totally different things. Besides, this might actually help us confirm where Dick is headed and not where he’s been”

Jason counted help the way his interest piqued, “You know where they’re going next?” Tim smirked.

His entire bedroom down the hall was covered in links, sightings, and evidence connected to Deathstroke, his successful contracts, and his new partner. Most sources called him Renegade, but Jason was pretty sure it was Dick. No one had ever seen his face clearly but apparently, wherever he was, Deathstroke’s shadow was close behind. He had pin drops and location confirmations ranging all over the world. Sometimes it was just sightings, and other times, it was confirmed kills. Jason still wasn’t sure if Deathstroke’s plan was to drag Dick around the world until it became the new norm for him, but they rarely stopped in one place for long. Sometimes the contracts were connected, like the time Deathstroke and Renagde took out an entire Vietnamese gang, and sometimes it was a simple one-and-done, like when a rebellious stepbrother to the Bellarus prince suddenly dropped dead at a private Gala. The cause of death was listed as an extreme peanut allergy but there were no nuts served at the event. 

Jason had a hundred theories as to what was going on with his brother but hadn’t been able to find any evidence supporting one over the other. When he heard this new guy was supporting or completing Deathstroke’s contracts and kills, he assumed that Dick was either being controlled or had snapped and was being manipulated. Either one could work seeing as how Slade’s connections with the Light gave him access to Psimon. He assumed that Deathstroke was overjoyed to employ the Court’s conditioned worlds if Dick's brainwashing wasn't resistant to anything well enough. Those just seemed more plausible to Jason but, in reality, he knew that there was also a chance that Bruce had pushed Dick too far and that he was now choosing anyone over Batman.

The mercenary had been after his older brother with an obsessive complex since Jason was adopted, but he never could have foreseen Dick giving the old pervert a chance. Despite Dick always reassuring Jason and others that Slade never made any inappropriate moves against him, Jason always hated the possessive glint in the man’s eye and the way he tracked his brother’s movements like someone at a cattle auction. While Dick may be clear-headed, Jason knew that Deathstroke could have easily turned Dick against Bruce and his brothers with a few simple words. Jason and Tim’s accident with Dick had been the mere opener before Dick had exploded on Bruce. He still remembered the night clearly. Damian had been treated in the back by Alfred and the old man was as silent as ever. Dinah and Leslie had come by as quickly as possible and confirmed with Bruce that at least 7 shadows were killed in combat, and 12 were dead by the end of the night. Jason’s lip had taken about 27 stitches and left a nasty scar but that didn’t stop him from discovering what had sent Dick-happy-go-lucky crazy. Bruce had tried to insist there were other priorities, like finding Dick, but he’d forced Tim, who was curious too, to re-open the file and playback what Dick had found. The entire cave heard how hesitant Bruce was to defend Dick. How he’d ordered Clark to take down the cave and all those sleeping bodies’ life support. Jason knew he was a cold son of a bitch at times, but not a lot of the recording hurt his feelings, it just re-cemented how no one could be a bigger priority for Batman than Gotham. Apparently, Dick never truly understood that until he had been half-crazed and mentally fucked over by his Grandfather's assassins. His older brother was always more emotionally attached and dependent, so it was unstable that this sent him spiraling, along with learning from online articles that he’d been announced dead years ago.

They all knew they should have handled this better but had no idea that Dick would re-integrate so much more poorly this time around than last. Leslie tried to apologize to Bruce, over his shouts and demands, explaining that healing the mind is the most unexpected type of treatment. Bruce didn't get far because Jason remembered socking the older man at least twice before he’d packed his assets and taken off on his bike.

“Yea” Tim confirmed, bringing Jason out of his stupor, “Look”

Jason dropped the towel from over his shoulder and saddled up beside the younger boy. Tim did indeed have a similar place point map, but digitized instead. He had every sighting or reference color-coded apparently. Blue meant confirmed sightings of Deathstroke, red meant second-hand sightings, yellow meant confirmed contracts, and at the bottom of the page was an estimated victim list. Tim briefly ran his mouse over the number, enlarging the list of the names and deaths associated with the 2.

“So” Tim began like it was a college presentation and not an explanation of their brother’s possible kill history, “Basically, I realized that there seems to be a pattern that’s broken up by random kills and contracts. No idea if this is on purpose or if they’re just taking a break in between the bigger stuff but-”

“Ye yea yea” Jason dismissed “You don’t have to go through the small print and disclaimer bullshit with me. Get to the point”

Tim glared at the screen but continued on. He zoomed in on a dot in Mexico and brought up all his info associated with that saved file and contract, “This is what I think is the start of it. This was a sighting of Deathstroke and his supposed partner”

“Dickhead” Jason said plainly because they all knew it was Dick, they just weren’t sure why yet.

“Dick” Tim acquiesced, “Was spotted at a resort here” he pointed to Southern Mexico.

“So Wilson bribed Dick with a facial?” Jason leaned over, reading the location details, “Wait, we’ve been here. This is Bruce Wayne-level nice”

Tim nodded, “See! Ok so basically, they were here and spotted but no deaths occurred until 3 weeks later in Paris” Tim quickly scrolled over to France on his map, “So I went through a list of everyone at this resort who wasn’t Mexican, or who was French”

Tim opened a file on a woman named Adelle Reau. She looked manicured to a T with long dark red hair and a fair complexion, “She was at the Bay Luxor Resort for 2 weeks before flying back to France where she and a business partner of hers both died”

Jason sighed realizing there may be a connection he’d missed. He didn’t even have this specific sighting of Dickhead in his own files, “How did they die?” he asked in an irritated tone.

Tim smirked at Jason’s exasperation, “They were caught in the crossfire of a French gang shootout; causing a car crash and severe head trauma”

Jason felt his irritation rise as the replacement even pulled up the death certificates and files for these 2 people, “I’m pretty sure the gang turf war was a planned shoot out to justify the single bullet that killed Adelle and her partner Zarai”

Jason nodded as he read over the report. Ultimately the cops decided it was the head trauma that killed them as their heads were bashed in. Coroner notes noted that a stray bullet might have hit them after death but Jason knew how easy it was to buy off the guy in the morgue. He did it himself about 3 months ago.

“Ok, so it looks suspicious. Why is this connected to Dick?”

Tim’s fingers flew across the keyboard bringing up evidence and screenshots of websites and PDFs, “Because Deathstroke never took a contract in this area of time, but was definitely sighted here. I think they followed Adelle back to Zarai and made the kill like 2 birds with 1 stone kind of move”

Jason crossed his arms, “Why would they do some pro bono kill?”

Tim’s expression grew slightly guarded, “This is where I think we can start trying to predict where they’re going and why”

He pulled up another file and enlarged it, shifting the screen for Jason to read better. Jason scanned the file, noting that it was some sort of registered attendee list like a Board of Directors meeting for a company. On the list was Adelle Reau and Zarai Pelluse. There were other names and each person’s net worth was over 6 figures easily, and with more than 10 companies connected to them as a CEO or stakeholder in some way. Jason continued reading the bullshit meeting minutes until he came to Lydia Ryland’s name. Tim saw him freeze, “Exactly,” Tim said.

Jason ignored him for now and took note of the other names:

 

Roan Damarask
Joseph Gilf
Lin Huey
Song De Longe
Yassen Gretchovin
Barthalemu Yorien

 

Barthalemu Yorien was on Jason’s list as a sighting overlap with Wilson but there was no record of him taking a contract for such a high net worth and high profile client, which was strange. There were no titles or deliverables beyond that. There wasn’t even a date that Jason could see, “What the fuck?” Jason gripped. This was confusing as there was obviously a connection between these people but-”

He froze at the last name on the list:

William Cobb.

 

“What. The. Fuck”

 

“I know”

 

Jason snapped his head up at the younger boy, “What is this? A lame-ass villain meeting of rich douches?”

Tim shrugged but his gaze said something else, “This is one of the only things I could steal off of Adelle’s records before she was announced dead to the public”

“How did you steal digital records in France?” Jason gave Tim a bewildered look.

Tim’s expression fell flat, “You overestimate me at the worst times Jason. She may be rich but she isn’t an evil genius. She logged onto the resort hotel’s wifi and I was able to track her down using the digital crumbs left there” He looked at Jason like a disapproving parent, “There’s a reason your phone always tells you your connection isn’t private you know?”

Jason frowned, “I thought that was for the idiots trying to surf porn behind the staff’s back”

Tim shook his head, “If this list of people is right then half of them are already dead”

Jason agreed, “I’ve got the Russian fucker who died recently on my records at least”

Tim noted the name that Jason was pointing out, “Yeah, but this saves us a lot of time too. It basically gives us a map of where they might head next, we just need to keep an eye on these people and make sure they’re still making public appearances. We also have a small buffer since it seems like Deathstroke and Dick are sidetracking in between each person”

Jason drummed his fingers on the counter as he thought it over, “This is bigger than I thought it would be” Jason admitted, “I thought if anything, Wilson would encourage Dickhead to go after Cobb but this proves that they’re going after the entire Court too”

Tim nodded, “And half of them are already out of the picture. Roan Damarask, Joseph Gilf, Song De Longe, and Yassen Gretchovin are the only ones alive right now. Everyone else has died in freak accidents or something similar, and their families aren’t too concerned with looking into the reasons behind it either”

“Greedy fucks are fighting over the will or something” Jason muttered, “Ok, so what next? Who’s next?

Jason examined what portions of the list he could see, “Who even are these people? Rich losers like Ryland?”

Tim nodded, “For the most part. Everyone’s worth is easily 7 figures and that’s just the public assets that the US government has access to for record-keeping and business taxes”

Jason huffed, “I can’t believe we are actually getting sucked into some rich person’s cult. What’s next? Drinking virgin blood?”

Tim ignored Jason’s annoyed ramblings and pulled up Song De Longe’s profile. A thin slender, harsh-looking lady. She was obviously southeastern Asian, “I’m not sure if she is next but she is closest. Her husband doesn't have any business dealings or ties like the other people listed here do but he’s on an advertisement tour for some big brand launch right now and she’s with him in Europe”

Jason felt suspicion stir, “How the fuck do you know all this and the old man doesn't? You want me to believe Bruce can’t figure this shit out on his own?”

Tim looked away slightly, “Bruce is pretty close, to be honest. He’s got the same trail but I think the only reason he hasn’t connected the dots is because I haven’t shared the file I stole off Reau’s laptop with him. He hasn’t connected the dots because he’s been so swamped with constant breakouts during patrol”

Jason wasn't convinced, “He has his 2 little helpers” he sneered.

Tim glared, “I know you’re mad at us for staying after the stunt he pulled with Dick but we haven't exactly been helping him so it’s kind of a one-man show right now”

Jason felt a smile tick up his lip before he could contain it. Glad to see some sort of daily resistance against the old man. He wouldn't admit how surprised and glad he was that Tim and the demon had shown a backbone by refusing to help Batman on patrol and such. Alfred most likely supported the boys’ decision to take a break but didn’t like getting stuck between Bruce’s anger and their refusal. Apparently, Alfred had taken up Dick’s mantel of peacekeeper in a violent household.

Jason nodded, “Ok, I’ll go and-”

“Nooooo way are you just gonna take all my intel and shit and go off on your own,” Tim said sternly.

Jason glared, “Not that I’m trying to be rude but you do know you can't stop me right?”

Tim closed his laptop, “Right, because you never try to be rude. But you do know that it’ll only take me a few days to wipe everything but physical data from your own files right?”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “What the fuck do you want? I thought you came here so I could go do something about that missing shithead?”

Tim nodded, matching Jason’s energy, “I did in a sense, but not without conditions” He held up a finger, “We need extra support for manpower in the field and general monitoring if we are going to track 2 people and keep 6 others alive” he held up a second finger, “We need Bruce-”

“Bye,” Jason turned on his heel.

“Jason!” Tim exclaimed running to cut him off, “I’m not saying you have to get along with him or even live it but-”

“No” Jason seethed in Tim’s face, “Fuck him. I’m ready to die never speaking to him again…and I’m pretty young. Plus, who said I want to keep the Court alive? Huh? After what they did to Dick...”

Tim rubbed his forehead, “Jason, we’re all still pissed at Bruce but-”

“Oh really? Because you and the demon brat are still shacking up with him and his money”

“You still use his credit card for food! Don’t act like you don't” Tim jabbed a finger at Jason, “And let me finish! At the bare minimum, we need Bruce's resources and Dick's old team for support”

Jason scoffed, “No we don’t,” he said.

“Well I’m glad you aren’t so stupid as to think you can take on Deathstroke and Dick on your own, but you’ve got to realize how stupid it is to think you can catch up to those 2 on commercial airline flights”

“You just said we're going to involve the old team, we can just use Megan’s ship”

“Megan and Connor are in space until further notice. You’d know that if you actually checked in with us. It’s not like associating with us is betraying Dick or something”

Jason simmered angrily, “No”

“Jason-”

“No! Fuck, everyone always comes crawling back to him for one reason or another and his little rich brain thinks that means he’s always right in the end! I’m not playing his game. Maybe Dick left with the right intentions after all”

“Don’t be an asshole!” Tim spat, “You’re really gonna let your petty anger with Bruce keep you from bringing Dick home? Damian can't live away from Bruce yet without life being 10 times more complicated and I'm the only one who can see how alone Damian would be if I moved out like you!”

Jason rolled his eyes and looked away, “Who knows if Dick really wants to come back here. This might not be home to him anymore”

Tim scoffed, “You’re just saying that. If you really thought it would be pointless to bring him back then you wouldn’t have tracked him for 2 years!”

Jason fought the urge to pummel the younger boy for his attitude, “Dick is definitely better off without Bruce, just not better off with Wilson”

“Ok, well, we agree on half of that at least. Just help me bring Dick home and we can fight about him, or with him, whatever we need to do, but within arms reach. Even Bruce would agree that having him angry and living with you is better than with Wilson in China or something”

Jason’s anger sputtered at the notion of having his big brother live with him after so long. He’d been chasing the guy forever and when he had him around it felt like a shell of his Dick. To have everything back the way it should be, but better, would be great.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the short ends roughly, “I’m not talking to him”

“Great!” Tim said beginning to pack up,

“I mean it, replacement! I don’t care how stupid or simple. I’m here for the mission and nothing else. I’m not talking with him, working with him, eating with him-nothing”

Tim gave Jason a deadpan look, “Everything you’re describing is cancelling out what you just agreed to”

Jason didn’t waver, “I don’t fucking care” he repeated, “I’m not giving that old man an inch. He can tag along if he’s so desperate to prove to Dick he cares or some shit but that’s it”

Tim waved a hand, “We can confirm details later” he said as he looked elsewhere. Jason could tell his mind was already gone with future plans the moment Jason acquiesced to Briuce’s presence in exchange for his finances and resources. Jason looked more closely at Tim and realized he was packing up in a slightly rushed manner. He narrowed his eyes, undecided if he wanted to point it out when Tim’s cell went off, Damian’s name flashing across the screen. Tim jumped slightly before dropping his laptop a little too harshly and reaching for the phone. Jason snatched it up before he could and swiped left, accepting the call.

“So?” Damian demanded.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim, feeling more assured in his assumption that there was a plan or setup of some sort. 

“Uh-Damian, I think I should ca-”

“If you try to hang up on me I am telling Father everything” Damian threatened.

Jason zeroed in, “Bruce doesn’t know any of this? What the fuck are you coming to me so early on in this plan acting like it’s all set to go? You made it seem like first-class tickets were already booked”

Tim tried to smother the look on his face but he knew he was caught.

“Todd? Good, so then Drake did succeed in finally catching your attention”

Jason looked at the phone, “What the fuck is happening here? Is this a plan or a half-baked scheme?”

Damian made a disgruntled sound over the phone, “Everything I participate in is well thought out and intellectually coveted, Todd”

“Oh really? Then why the fuck are you and the replacement trying to sell me on a half-baked scheme as if I’m the last one getting on board…it sure doesn't sound like it”

The little demon growled over the line, “We were merely assuring the most vital aspects of the plan before informing Farther. We assumed that if everything was in place and secured, then he would have no choice but to assist or let us go”

Jason smirked, “Awwww, am I an essential component of your plan?”

Damian hissed back quickly but Tim cut him off, “Listen, everything I said was true. That is the plan but we know that it’ll all go much smoother with you on board and honestly-”

“Everyone on planet Earth is more amicable than you Todd”

Tim winced, “Yeah, we figured if you said yes, then everyone else would be a breeze. Plus” he rubbed his arm and looked away, “We were really hoping that the more of us there would be, the greater chance we'd have at Dick feeling safer coming back to us”

“Especially after Richard smashed your face in” Damian added snidely.

Jason seethed, regretting ever admitting that it was Dick who pummelled his lip open. Despite the Pit’s healing essence in his blood, the cut had left a long white nasty scar from his lip to the cleft in his chin. The wound healed quickly and without fuss, making Jason feel like the cut was doing its best to heal and become a permanent reminder of his inability to reign in 1 goddammed person. He’d had so many years to clue into the fact that Dick wasn’t dead, and even then he’d had a little over a year to keep 1 person tucked away long enough to heal, and he couldn't manage that.

He’d die before admitting it but sometimes wondered if Bruce was onto something. If maybe Dick’s unhappiness and anxiety were worth it if he came out safe and in one piece at the end of it all. Jason quickly rid himself of the notion, second-guessing himself like that was pointless at this rate. Too much had changed and Jason needed to get his big brother back, punch some sense into him, and then figure out what Dick’s goal was. Hell, he’d help him track down the Court of Owl mother fuckers and put them away, but imagining Dick galivanting around under Deathstroke made his stomach clench with something nauseating. He hated how easy it was to admire DIck Grayson due to how easy and capable he made every single task look, but Jason couldn’t reconcile Dick’s happy dopey face with that of an unregretable killer.

Part of him still couldn't believe that Dick had gone after the Joker for him, but every now and then, when he’d let himself believe Dick’s words about how he thought he was honoring Jason how he truly would have wanted, Jason wondered if he had misjudged his brother their entire lives. If Dick was capable of killing at such a young age for his brother, what was he capable of under duress with Deathstroke?

“So?” Damian’s petulant demanding voice brought Jason back.

“What?” Jason snapped.

“Will you assist or not?”

Jason groaned, “Fine. Yes. Whatever” he snapped back, “Just like I told replacement though, I’m not doing shit besides breathing the same air as Bruce”

Tim smiled, “Alright! Damian and I have a meeting with Young Justice later this week, we’ll pop the question and see who else we can get”

Jason leaned on the counter as Tim left the phone on speaker, “You said Megan and Connor are in space? Who else are you aiming to get with this fast-tracked rescue plan huh?”

Tim answered quickly, “I'm confident Artemis, Roy, and Wally will want in,” he said, “Plus, Kaldur is back from whatever Aqua man had him looking into and Canary mentioned that he’s on a break so I figured he had some definite free time”

Jason crossed his arms, “Why does it sound like Bruce is the only leaguer helping? Why isn’t Clark or Canary or literally anybody else planning this, or even helping?”

Tim looked at his phone like Damian would be of more help, “We tried….”

The Justice League are being weaklings at the moment and wish to wait” Damian grumbled.

Jason peaked a brow at Tim, forcing out an answer, “Clark and Diana are trying to pressure Bruce into adding Dick to our vigilante monitoring list. They said with everything going on and all the unresolved issues, with Luthor and the Light, that they can’t afford the time and people for a mission targeted just for Dick-”

“Wait wait wait” Jason held up his hands, “Are they seriously saying that the only way to justify going after Dick is to label him a criminal and put him on a most wanted list?”

“I know but-”

“No, fuck that” Jason spat, “Dick’s like a pillar of the community, or whatever” Jason swished his hand through the air, “First sidekick, leader of Young Justice and all that crappy jazz”

He crossed his arms and smirked darkly, “How ironic that Uncle Clark and Aunt Wonderwoman want to tarnish his image before allocating any resources towards his search and rescue”

“They haven’t turned against him, but they can’t order the entire League to mobilize if only a handful vote for it” Tim argued, “We’ve only got Clark, Dinah, Diana, Barry, Oliver, and a few others on our side. Jason, the Justice League is huge and this would be a big mission” Tim looked away, abashed, “They’re trying to work with Bruce within the confines of the Justice League’s code but it takes some pull"

“They’re trying to label him as some sort of terrorist in order to offer help?” Jason scoffed, “Sounds like a fancy kill on sight if you ask me”

“Don’t be stupid” Tim snapped, “The JL doesn’t kill. This is an automatic retain and capture on sight, but Bruce needs to agree in order for it to be pushed through to the international hero community”

“Oh yea” Jason nodded with fake enthusiasm, “And Bruce loves to be agreeable” His expression dropped, “Fuck this. If Dick hears his friends and family have turned against him, he’ll really be running from us. A criminal, replacement! Do you not hear what you’re justifying?”

“He’s not a criminal! He needs help and you need to work with us before anyone gets ahead of them and does something about this. Like you said Jason, this is Dick. The hero community won’t ignore him and Wilson forever. This plan” he gestured around the kitchen and to the phone, “Will help us get a head start on this mess and keep Dick from being labeled as a world-renowned criminal”

“They already have” Damian reminded them. Jason cringed, remembering how quickly Clark and the others had found out about the dead assassins and Dick’s disappearance. Bruce had insisted that Talia’s strange kidnapping attempt and Dick’s disappearance were a family matter, but Clark wouldn’t listen. He’d blown up on Bruce for his negligence and preference for hiding the biggest bombshells. Jason suspected that Clark was still guilt-ridden over the fact that he’d listened to Bruce and taken down the centuries-old sleeping talon compound, but he wasn’t about to support a crusade against Dick, even if it did throw Bruce under the bus. Diana and the other founding members were quick to support Clark or attempt to find a reasonable middle ground. Ollie and Dinah had been back and forth between the 2 dominating men, attempting to reason that with Dick missing, presumably because of Deathstroke, it warranted some sort of search-if only because of a possible kidnapping linked to a meta who was on literally every first world national’s legitimized wanted list. Bruce and Clark had been at odds but most of the tension was fueled and escalated by Bruce’s insistence on hiding information from the League until it was too late. Jason wasn’t certain if Bruce was being honest when he stated that the matter of the original Robin was a family matter and none of the League’s concern, but he was unwavering.

“I-” Jason was cut off by his own cell phone ringing. He furrowed his brow in confusion. He took out his cell to find Bobby’s name plastered across the screen, “Fuck me” he gripped. He quickly made his way past Tim. He snatched up his helmet from his bedroom and yanked it on before answering the call, “What?” he demanded through the helmet’s voice modulator.

“Uhhh, hey boss. We uh-”

“What. Is. It” Jason growled.

“Give me that” another voice snapped. There was a muffled sound of hands over the phone speaker before a deeper voice became louder, “Boss, we got an issue. Black Mask’s men made an appearance”

Jason clenched his fists and did his best not to lash out at Jack. He was one of his best men and he knew that a level of warped respect went a long way into cultivating loyalty in men who could follow orders and get shit done, “What happened?”

“Somehow they knew about the shipment we were sharing with Jaylong’s group and when we showed up to inspect and approve the usual stuff. It was already gone”

“All of it?”

“All of it. Boxes and all”

“They didn’t even leave the fucking cargo containers empty” Jason scoffed to himself. Jack grunted in agreement.

“I think either Jaylong’s men got paid off to give Sionis a heads up the next time they partnered with us or Sionis just bought out the entire team staffing the shipment yard tonight”

Jason bowed his head, thinking for a moment.

“Re-?”

“Yea yea,” Jason said, “Ok, here’s what you’re gonna do. Whether or not, Sionis bought out the Triad, they’re probably acting suspicious and pointing figures to keep up appearances, yeah?”

“Yea, they’re not happy, but said I could call you while they fall Taefong”

“Good, well, until anything becomes more obvious, we can toe the line with them. Don’t give them reassurance or leeway. Blame Sionis until I can get down there and point the fingers myself. Send Bobby or one of the other new kids to copy and clean the footage and then let them know we are calling a meeting in 2 days. Plumbing district”

“Got it Bo-” Jason hung up with a heavy sigh.

“We could arrest him for half that conversation alone,” Damian said.

“Why are you still here?” Jason snapped. Black Mask had been a diligent thorn in his side for the past 2 years. The man refused to face him, sending middlemen and weaklings to any mass Gothamite meetings between territory leaders. He knew it was because he’d spent millions to buy Redhood from the Court of Owls and showed up to an empty warehouse and a truck full of unconscious underlings. Jason wasn’t about to broadcast that he’d been on the market and Sionis surely wasn’t about to admit that Redhood got under his skin, and was so successful at matching him as a rival gang opponent, that he’d stoop to buying a drugged and injured Redhood from a rival underground organization. It was bad for both their images so it came down to petty meticulous, constant gang-level warfare conducted under false facades and reasonings. He waved an aggressive hand at Tim who still had his phone on speaker. Tim rolled his eyes and finished packing up.

“Don’t get shot or arrested before next Monday. I’ll let you know how many people we have on board, and then I want to leave within a day or 2 because once Clark and the others hear, they’re not gonna want to sanction our mission”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Yea yea yea, this is a secret. I don’t even talk to any of those pee-brained Young Justice kids”

Tim scowled, “They’re getting better and you know I wouldn't recruit any of them to help. We want experienced members in the field to be familiar with Dick”

Jason brushed past him, “Whatever, leave me alone until you have an actual plan” he gave Tim a look, “With actual participants”

Tim held up his hands, “I’m going, I get it”

Jason watched grumpily as Tim made his way to the window he preferred to enter by, “And stop using my window to break and enter!”

“Stop using my tech!” he heard from outside his window.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dick hummed to himself as he finished his sandwich, “I’m serious Wintergreen, if you entered one of those cooking shows, you’d cream 'em all” Dick waved his sandwich at the older man across the kitchen counter.

Wintergreen chuckled as he wiped down the counter, “Thank you dear boy, but it’s hardly difficult to air-fry a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. As much as I appreciate the comments, you’re hardly a stern critic”

“We just need to get you into a beginners competition and then you’ll really smoke 'em,” Dick said to himself.

Wintergreen rolled his eyes and turned away as it was obvious Dick was too focused on planning his own fantasy. After a few minutes, his eyes were drawn to the hallway as Slade emerged in his Deathstroke gear and a duffle bag saddled over his shoulder.

He stopped when he spotted Dick at the kitchen island counter, still covered in blood and dirt. His eye narrowed in annoyance. He sauntered over to Dick, sticking to his backside. Dick’s movements slowed noticeably as he felt Slade’s presence grow nearer. He flinched slightly at the sound of Slade’s duffle bag dropping to the floor with a heavy thud, alongside Dick’s already at his feet.

“Will?”

Will had long since sensed the atmosphere in the room grow tenser but humored his friend, “Hmm?”

“Why is Richard eating...” he glanced down Dick’s nape to his sticky fingers, “Peanut butter instead of getting medical treatment?”

Wintergreen’s gaze fell on a sheepish Dick, “Well, Richard informed me that after a successful mission, you had sent him ahead to rest up and eat while you wrapped up a few things”

Dick watched Will and couldn’t help holding his breath as he felt Slade’s fingers creep up his shoulders and neck. For a second those familiar fingers brought a pleasurable shiver as they dragged up his nap and into his hair. The sensation ended abruptly as Slade’s fingers clenched in his hair and yanked his head backward, barring his throat completely. He made instant eye contact with the older mercenary and couldn’t help the prominent bobbing of his throat as he swallowed, Slade’s gaze instantly catching the motion, "Pretty bird?”

He swallowed, “Yes?”

“It sounds to me like you lied to Will here”

Dick blinked, trying to focus on anything else, but Slade’s presence had always been overwhelmingly present for him, “I was hungry” he tried lamely.

Slade’s eye narrowed, “You were stabbed twice and shot in the shoulder. I told you to go to Will for medical treatment and a shower”

Slade’s other hand came to rest on Dick’s adams apple and he jumped slightly as he was suddenly aware of the slow dragging of a thumb over his elongated neck, “I-”

Slade’s thumb suddenly pressed down sharply, robbing DIck of his air. He wheezed and struggled before Slade eased up on his throat. He was allowed to try again, “Yes,” he said simply.

Slade sighed and coaxed his muscles to relax as much as possible in such a compromising position, stroking his throat and scalp, “This wouldn’t be required if you’d listen to me and stop weakening yourself so pointlessly”

Dick glared petulantly, straightening against the firm hold in his hair, “It’s fine. Don’t tell me to stop, because I won’t”

Slade hummed, petting Dick, “I know kid. I’m just waiting for the day when your own actions get you killed; again” Slade leaned in sinisterly, “Because it will happen if you continue to insist on weakening yourself to prove a point nobody cares about, to a group of people who don’t care enough for you”

Dick glared back, breathing heavily through his nose when Will cleared his throat, drawing both of their attention, “If this is the case then I think it’s best that I treat and wrap these apparent wounds, so Richard can get properly cleaned up”

Slade’s gaze jumped to Dick’s stretched figure, his back arched against the back of the high chair. His hair was slicked back with sweat and grease and his clothes and hoodie were coated in a fine layer of dust and dirt from their most recent mission. His face wasn’t much better with various shallow cuts littering his chin and cheeks. Slade looked at the cuts, the ones deep enough to smear blood were barely stopping their shallow drip. The thinner cuts and scrapes should have been gone but were lingering and the intentional weakness Dick forced himself to suffer through agitated Slade to no end. He observed the bent body that arched up for him with a blase expression, “How does that sound, Dick?” he asked in a dangerous tone. Dick squirmed once and nodded quickly.

“Good boy” He released Dick with a nod of approval to follow Wintergreen’s word. Dick left the last bite of his food on his plate and scurried back down the hallway to his room, leaving his duffle bag and phone where they sat. Slade sighed and tipped his head back, crossing his arms. Will chuckled and patted Slaed’s beefy arm as he passed, “It will pass. I know you have high expectations for the boy but he’s young and has been through much. You have an eternity to straighten him out, Wilson”

Slade rolled his eyes, “Are you referring to his habit of lying and disrespect? Or his ridiculous need to minimize his own potential?”

Wintergreen shrugged, “Whichever you want it to be” he chuckled. “It’s been a few years, let him re-learn who he wants to be. You’re lucky he’s willing to do it with you in the vicinity at all”

Slade grunted, not willing to agree. They both knew that it was thanks to Dick’s compromisable nature that the three of them got on as well as they did. Slade would not have let Dick go so their current situation was the best that could have come of Slade hounding a stricken and unstable Dick. Slade’s involvement with the Corut was still a sore spot but as there was little Slade could do to redeem himself, he’d been relying on time to ease Dick’s ill will towards him in that regard.

“I’ll go check on him and send him to wash up, eat something” Wintergreen departed without another word, following Dick.

Over the past year or two, Dick had attempted to find himself in an atmosphere that didn’t involve his overbearing brothers or controlling father. Slade had kept him busy with training and missions, ramping up the severity and harshness required over the years, but overall he was falling back into characteristics that Slade could identify in the first Robin well. The kid was capable of conquering the world. He had always been hindered by remnants of the Bat’s petty belief system, convinced that restraining himself was a sign of strength and honor. When Slade had claimed his little bird, he’d been frustrated to see that same false belief system still firmly in place under Dick’s skin and eyes. After the turbulence his father and brothers had put him through, it wasn’t very hard to pry those beliefs and morals from the kid’s fingers. With every new rule and look of distrust, the kid’s grip over what he believed to be his own barriers and beliefs had weakened more and more. Once his brothers had started to sow doubt into his bird’s brain and heart, well it had only been too easy to inject authentic doubt into the kid as to whether or not he was abiding by his own belief system or that of the Bat’s. One that had been ingrained by a poorly raised Gotham socialite under completely different circumstances. He knew he’d never let his bird fly free, not truly, but every day the kid let another arbitrary rule free from his heart, Slade found it easier and easier to relax his own grip over the kid.

Dick flinched far less now when taking a shot, still preferred guns to fists, and worked himself to death to compensate for failed missions or injured bystanders. The panic attacks from death and coagulated blood had ceased months ago and Slade found that he was beginning to prefer the fanatic light that entered the kid’s eyes whenever he silenced the light of another. The final thump of his fists or sure click of a trigger, parallel to the narrowly focused glint in those powerful blue eyes made Slade’s blood pulse and thump with something he’d forgotten how to feel long ago. He knew the kid wasn't relishing in the pain that he was causing others on missions, but more so falling headfirst into the freefall of adrenaline and excitement that their line of work brought then. The kind of freedom that even cliff jumpers could never establish in their lives because, to look someone in the eye and decide how to end their life was an exhilarating rush, a high that very few people could carry out under their own deft fingers. It was only a matter of time before the kid realized how in denial he was and Slade's palms itched to be there when that moment hit home. When his lethal bird realized the false clarity he'd been living under in order to ensure his missions were completed efficiently. Eager was an understatement to describe his desire to see the day Dick realized that he could enjoy causing pain and not deserve to implode on the spot from such a feeling. He reminded himself it was dangerous to get addicted to the kid and the reactions he was able to pull out of his bird…but then again, if he had Dick for an eternity and neither of them could truly die….what was the harm in his single addictive crutch?

The kid had many of his own weaknesses and bad habits to work through but Slade was more determined to get him out of the Bat's hold soonest. As soon as his behavior and urges were wiped clean of Gotham, then Slade could focus on reigning in Dick and his bad habits. How he often tried to drink too much to find where his new limits lay, how he’d taken up smoking as an ironic response to the fact that nicotine could never truly kill a lung now, how he’d beat his fists bloody if a mission didn’t go as planned or if he lost himself to the rage and passion of a fight. Despite it all, Slade had the least amount of patience for Dick’s new method of humanizing himself. The kid was convinced that he didn’t deserve the immortality and power that had put his family in danger and almost destroyed his brother’s face but then turned around and used it to accompany Slade on a multitude of missions and to take down the social elitists who had ruined his family and future. Dick seemed to take some sort of self-righteous punishment out of seeing and feeling injuries and cuts heal slowly, as if he was administering his own retribution. The kid may be realizing that he was pointlessly restraining himself but he still had a long way to go before he was completely free of the Bat’s mental and emotional railings.

He still remembered the last time he'd rewarded the kid. Dick had looked at him in surprise like his treat was out of the blue and unnecessary. Slade thought otherwise as Dick had, for the first time ever, let his own exhaustion take priority over a car accident they'd passed. A man had stood with an infant while a woman's body was draped over the steering wheel inside the car. All the occupants in their vehicle had seen the incident with clarity and Slaade looked to Dick, expecting the demand for them to stop, but Dick, earlier that day, had just committed his youngest contract. A 17-year-old, 3 weeks from his birthday and prepared to inherit the 4th largest Russian mob. Dick had been resistant, offering every other solution to a swift death until Slade had shown him differently. Walked him through how to investigate a person's personal life and look for telling signs of their behavior and personality. How to pick up signs of laziness or spot cruelty from the reactions around them. Dick could be saving lives by snuffing out this young one early. Like usual, Dick had allowed Slade to guide him around and back home while he tried to regain some semblance of self-awareness. When they passed the accident, Dick had merely turned the other way muttering that the ambulance would be there soon. There were no sirens to be heard. 

He was pleased to see Dick joking and smiling more. Wintergreen, more than glad to humor immature and lame jokes, often encouraged joking at inappropriate times. It led to Slade’s belief that the kid could bounce back more easily than he’d believed in the first few months Slade had sequestered him away. He’d been under constant surveillance then; from a combination of instability and shame. Wintergreen had seen it too, the shift from day to day that led them to doubt if Dick could follow through and leave his family. Dick had been quite volatile at the time, almost a danger to anyone who caught him in the right mood. As soon as his body was completely clear of the steroids, suggestive toxins, and drugs he’d been pumped with for so long, Dick’s physique had calmed as well. He resembled an acrobat far more than he previously did; with broad shoulders and arms, and a trim waist that proved his rigorous schedule was not for the faint of heart. His hair had grown out more but after Slade and Wintergeen’s nagging, had given in to a more ‘on the move lifestyle’ friendly style with the sides shorter than the top. He’d been adamant that he refused to buzz his hair like young Slade Wilson most likely wore for most of his life.

He heard a door close and then the telling signs of the shower start up before he allowed himself to peruse the fridge for any leftovers Wintergreen might have left for them.

Chapter 2

Notes:

Hey there! ch2 is here. Sorry nothing exciting has happened yet-and Dick isn't in this one so it might feel slow

“You’re doing what?!” Artemis hissed at Tim.

Tim looked around, hoping their conversation wasn’t too hushed and suspicious to draw attention. He motioned for Artemis to calm down, “Shhhh. Be more discreet. The Lea-”

“I know the League won’t help. This is a suicide mission, that's why!” Artemis threw up her arms. Beside her, Wally stood stoically. He often was nowadays, only interacting with Roy and Artemis and Barry.

“No, it’s not, Jason and Damian are coming, and I bet Roy will too. I know Kaldur wants to help so it’s really just you two left”

Artemis glared, “This will end up with most of us scattered, injured, or dead” she snapped, glancing around when it came out louder than intended. Down the hall in the main sparring room Canary and most of the newer Young Justice members were partnering up and training, “You don’t get this Tim, my father is just like Deathstroke. Those guys don’t mess around. One time when I was 7, I called him to remind him of my birthday, and when he got home the week after, he broke my arm for alerting his target and disrupting his mission. This is not a simple rescue mission”

“You think I don’t know that? Tim snapped, “Wilson has been Dick’s shadow, and ours, since he was 10. I know he won’t kill Dick, but it’ll be way worse if we leave him in Slade’s hands”

Wally shifted uneasily and Artemis crossed her arms, “We need something more” she said finally, the compounding stress leaking through all too easily “We need-”

“Bruce is coming”

That took them by surprise, “I thought the League had sanctioned anything Dick-related as off limits for now”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, for the most part. They’re voting to put him on an international watch list with Wilson to justify having so many Leaguers go after them but-”

“Father is not supporting this notion” Damian snapped finally stepping in. Tim shot him a look but Damian ignored him, “Father knows that no matter Richard’s reasons for running off, he is his son and his Robin. He will not leave Ricahed to the wolves”

“So he agreed?” Wally asked bluntly.

“Well-”

“Oh my god” Artemis groaned, “You bats and your communication skills are shit” Artemis seethed, “I’m not exaggerating. Does Bruce Wayne go to the nearest ghetto and ask for the kid with the worst verbal conveyance skills?”

“Father will help” Damian rushed out, “When we confirm the plan and who is coming to help, he will have no choice but to come with us or lend us resources. We are going one way or another and he will want to help us succeed rather than fail when our opponent is Deathstroke”

“And possibly the Court of Owls” Tim muttered. No one mentioned that Dick may be a third roadblock as well.

“So you’re gonna blackmail Batman?” Wally gave them a dumbfounded look.

Tim squared his shoulders, “Don’t try to act like you care if we manipulate Bruce. We all know he fucked up with Dick but we need him. I know Bruce cares about Dick”

Wally’s green eyes burned brighter as he stared down the 2 brothers, “He did more than fuck up” he said coldly, “You all did. You pushed us away and let us see Dick when he was at his best. We never knew that Dick was so fucked until suddenly Jason’s face was split and Dick’s run off with Deathstroke?!”

Damian winced but Tim glared harder. He hated having to re-explain himself to everyone in the cape community every time Dick’s escapades came up, “He’s our brother, not yours” he took a step closer to Wally. They were almost the same height now, “Don’t act like you guys just being around him would’ve suddenly cured his mental illness and trauma. We still don’t know what is or was wrong” he glared at Artemis as well, “I’m telling you this out of courtesy because if Dick found out you sat back while everyone else tried to rescue him from himself, he’d never look at you the same way again”

Wally’s face contorted in rage and he jabbed a finger in Tim’s chest, “Don’t you fucking imply we haven’t been looking for him”

“You haven’t been!” Tim pushed Wally away, “What? You think listening to North American law enforcement Radio and searching for internationally reported bombings is gonna do shit?”

After their last mission, Artemis, Roy, and Wally were all injured to varying degrees. They were sequestered away at home or back at Happy Harbor to heal. Artemis and Wally had been the most injured between the trio but as far as Tim was aware, they weren’t out of the field for very long; especially with the League’s medical resources and recuperating capabilities. Dick’s old teammates hadn’t been overly involved with any of the bats since then. Tim knew that most of the cape community was starting to see Batman’s kids as merely an extension of the Bat. He and Damian weren’t young enough to be easily considered children within their community anymore and after the vigilante community had discovered what had gone down the night of Dick's disappearance, many crime fighters had started to turn up their noses at Bruce’s children alongside Bruce now.

Tim had always taken for granted how he was viewed with more leniency than Bruce. How he was offered pity and empathy for being raised by a playboy billionaire with the most non-child friendly lifestyle and career, but after Dick disappeared, all of his old teammates and mentors started to retract the leniency they offered to the Bat’s children, instead, choosing to replace it with the same coldness they presented Bruce with every time he made a significant decision without the Leahgiue’s notice or approval. Tim never thought he’d miss their demeaning pity until he was faced with the same coldness that Bruce faced almost monthly. He understood why Dick was never eager to accompany Bruce to League meetings or why Bruce refused to allow metas to have unfiltered access to Gotham. Tim had very rarely agreed with Bruce and even more rarely sided with Bruce, but as much as he despised the way Bruce handled Dick’s care and therapy while trying to hide him from threats and the outside world, Tim despised the cape community’s judgment even more. Dick was their brother first and foremost. If they wanted to make his healing and recovery private and solidarity to just their family, then that was their purview. 2 years later, he was angry and petty and disgusted over how Bruce and his brothers were treated because Slade Wilson refused to leave Dick alone. Somedays he felt more like Jason looked when he first returned from the Middle East with a vengeful manipulative Talia at his back.

The only thing keeping him from throwing himself headfirst into the raging passion behind his vengeful mindset and desires was Dick’s potential disappointment. Tim knew that when Dick was back home and healthy, he would be sad and disappointed to see how knowingly angry and destructive Tim had let himself become but Tim also pondered if Dick would ever be himself enough again to feel the emotions the old Dick would’ve. He nodded to Damian and directed the younger boy’s gaze to the meta transport tubes, “Either help us go after Dick and Wilson or shut up and stop arguing about the past like it’ll help anyone”

He stormed away, feeling a pleasurable heat in his chest. He knew it wasn’t very healthy to find solace in building emotional anger and holding grudges, but recently lashing out in patrol or at others seemed to be the only way Tim felt like he could release the bubbling tension in his bones. Damian caught up with him as he exited the meta tubes into the cave, “Do you think they will help?”

Tim shrugged, still heated, “I don’t know. I’ll give them a week or so but I won’t force them. We’re bringing Dick back no matter what and they’re gonna regret not helping”

Damian looked unsure but nodded firmly. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce was hunched forward in his chair, trying to force connections between the pieces of evidence he was seeing. He knew he had a trail of Dick and Deathstroke’s activity confirmed, but finding out where they would be next is where he’d been stumped for a while now. He was existing in a strange daze of non-stop activity. If he wasn’t at a Board meeting, recouping everything he was behind on at Wayne Ent. then he was on patrol, trying to wrangle another jailbreak or target another drug ring bust, if by some miracle, he had free time outside of that he was seated in front of the batcomputer trying to piece together where his son was headed. He had his suspicions that Dick was after the Court of Owls leading members but confirming the members was the difficult part. He had a list of at least 30 associates that Lex Luthor and Lydia Ryland had met and were meeting with for various contracts, but Bruce knew that digging into each and every person, contact, and contract would take too long; allowing his mentally compromised son to galavant around the world with a deranged killer. Jason was, by definition, estranged from him at this point, and Tim and Damian were not far off. He knew the boys still lived at the manor from Alfred’s reports and smaller minute changes like their bikes being gone or changing position in the cave, but they had barred all communication from him; in his own home. Bruce worried over his sons but knew that as long as they were alive and healthy they were not the priority when Gotham was struggling to keep her head above water and an obsessive mercenary had his oldest boy learning god knows what.

A sudden ringing jolted Bruce out of his thoughts and he almost jumped in surprise. He couldn’t identify where the sound was at first but knew it was coming from the back near the lockers and uniforms. He pushed his chair back, feeling his back and spine crack just from the movement alone, and approached the sound. He found the ringing from the second locker and opened the door. Inside was Tim’s duffle bag. Bruce unzipped the bag and found his son’s new uniform stuffed inside. Bruce wasn’t aware of when or how Tim had changed his look but his second youngest now sported darker colors and an altered style. Bruce fingered the dark red hood, one of the new additions to Tim’s costume; that and his lack of a cape. Beneath the foreign uniform was a cell, blaring its second attempt at a call. Bruce felt momentary worry clench his spine as he realized that Tim had left his phone in his bag.

Was his son not taking care of himself again? Dick was usually the one to badger Tim over his poor habits. He always admonished Bruce saying, “If you set a better example and got sleep more often, Tim wouldn’t fall back of behavior like this”

Bruce wanted to respect his son's obvious anger and wish to create space between them at the moment but if Tim was too tired and exhausted to realize he’d forgotten his cell phone, maybe Bruce should be forcing some sort of contact or communication. He picked up the cell and turned it over, spotting Jason’s name immediately. Before Bruce could fathom the best decision, his thumb swiped right and answered the call. Jason must have heard the click and knew his call was picked up because his voice came across immediately, “Replacement, I’ve got something”

Bruce heard papers ruffling in the background and a muffled typing ensuing before Jason spoke again, “Song De Longe’s people are updating her Twitter and I think I’ve got a hit”

Jason must have been reading off something because he continued to talk, not paying attention to the fact that ‘Tim’ hadn’t spoken once, “Her people just posted an ad for her husband’s tech tour. They’re having some sort of sponsored brand launch, or marketing campaign people can attend, next month in England. I think you were right. She’s closer but she’s more public. Dick and Wilson will definitely hit her first. She’s just asking for it”

Another few seconds of typing before Jason continued, “She’s gonna be with her husband for the whole thing but if we can find where she is staying or when she shops alone, it is probably gonna be the same things Dickhead and perv and lookin’ for", Jason trailed off, “Dude……Dude?”

Bruce didn’t speak. He was caught off guard for once. Jason had just confirmed that he and his brothers were working on finding Dick, similar to Bruce, but actually had a reliable predictive trail, unlike Bruce. He didn’t know what to say. He was glad that his boys were efficient and capable detectives, proactively finding their lost brother. He was ashamed that Batman hadn’t uncovered where Nightwing and Deathstroke would be, but knew that he was witnessing the fruits of his horrendous labor and unfit parenting before him. He had driven his son away and in an effort to find him, without their father, his boys had pushed themselves until they procured concrete proof of effort and evidence. 

“Tim” Jason’s tone was more demanding.

“Bruce?” Bruce turned to see Tim at the bottom of the cave stairs. He locked eyes with his son for the first time in weeks.

Jason’s voice broke Tim’s and Bruce’s, “Tim?’

Tim’s eyes locked onto Bruce’s hand and he saw everything clock for his son. His shoulders tensed and his confused frown grew into anger in less than a second, “What the fuck Bruce!”

“Bruce?” Jason’s voice echoed, “What the fuck is going on Tim? Did you hear me or not?”

“Jason shut up for one second, Bruce is fucking-geez” Tim threw up his hands, the corners of his eyes wide with incredulity, “What the fuck are you doing going through my stuff?!”

Bruce watched his son closely, noting the severe bags under his eyes and the short, bitten nail beds. Tim still had good posture, which was good, because he often slumped when too focused or tired. He couldn't help fearing that his son was beginning to view himself as an adult did when they had no parents or authority left for support or assistance. Tim stared him down angrily, expecting some sort of response for violating his locker. The only thing that came out of Bruce’s mouth was, “Are you feeling alright?”

Tim blinked, stunned. 

“Are you sleeping enough?” Bruce persisted. Tim was speechless.

“I'm still here” Jason announced, irritation lacing his words.

Tim’s anger and irritation seemed to melt away into a heaviness that forced his shoulders to slump, “Jason whatever the hell you just said was to Bruce and not me”

No one spoke for a few minutes, “You’re shittin’ me” Jason sighed over the line, “Well your little escapade plan is out in the open now replacement. I was just calling to update you that De Longe’s people have been updating her social media with ads and news about the tech tour she and her husband are on. They’re closer to us in England and she’s basically announcing where and when she’ll be so I’m assuming we aren’t her only followers”

“You 2 know where Dick and Deathstroke are,” Bruce said. His gaze was still on Tim’s.

Jason sniffed, “I wasn’t kidding replacement, I’m not fucking collaborating with the old man, and that includes talking”

Tim huffed a breathless, humorless laugh, “Right” he ran a hand through his limp locks and Bruce noted that Tim could use a shower if only to give him a chance to freshen up and breathe, “I know we all have the same bread crumb trail from Deathstroke’s activity and assume that Dick is tagging along for most of these sightings, but after one in South America, I came across some newer evidence and traced it to a French heiress. Long story short, she had evidence on her that confirmed the Court members that we think Dick is after.  De Longe was one of the people on that list so we think it's safe to assume Deathstroke has the same info as he worked with the court and is letting Dick go after them or something”

“You and Jason have been working on this? For how long?”

Tim crossed his arms, “Damian too. Honestly, we’ve had the same trail you have since Dick disappeared. It was only in the last 2 months or so that I came across this new lead and these names are all we have to go off of”

“How sure are you besides it just being new evidence?” Bruce asked, his mind already driving him into detective mode.

“I’m not certain. I don’t know if there is a way to be certain but the list has Cobb’s and Ryland’s names on it; plus some others that have died within a few days of Deathstroke being sighted as well. I think it safe to say he’s somewhat the leading cause of death for basically half the list of people”

Bruce had to wrangle in his thoughts before they spiraled into too many different theories and possibilities. The fact that his sons were leading the successful search for their brother should be the least of Bruce’s worries but it nagged at him nonetheless. If what Tim had found was true then that meant that Bruce was looking into the wrong people by investigating Luthor’s and Ryland’s private contract partners and associates. 

“Luthor wasn’t on the list?”

Tim shook his head, “No he wasn’t. I know a few names from it just because they’ve all got crazy high net worths and a ton of sub-companies under their names but William Cobb and Lydia Ryland were the only ones I really knew”

Bruce nodded, “I need to see the list”

“Hah!” Jason barked out a laugh.

An unreadable expression overcame Tim’s face, “Bruce...”

“What?” he knew both Jason and Tim were on the same page and he wasn’t aware of what was passing between them at the moment. 

“Listen, Bruce, I-we know you have a lot on your plate right now with Gotham and the company’s board is breathing down your neck for missing basically a year but we’re going after Dick and-”

“I know we are”

Tim tipped his head back like he was gathering invisible patience before speaking again, “No Bruce, well yes but-Gah!” he glowered in frustration, “We are just waiting for Wally, Roy, and Artemis to confirm if they’re coming but you need to work with us, Bruce” Bruce waited, knowing there were multiple layers to that one request “We aren’t asking you to lead this mission and we aren't asking you to tag along to our mission. This is our information and we’ve been the ones planning the timeline and gathering people. I even had to blindside Jason just to come on a mission with your resources much less your presence” 

Bruce’s sharp gaze locked onto the phone as if he could pierce it all the way to Jason’s apartment. 

“We-I want you on this mission Bruce, but not if you are gonna come as Batman. We need our dad, Dick’s dad, not Batman, ok?”

Jason scoffed over the phone but Bruce nodded, slowly understanding that Tim was laying boundaries and requirements. Bruce realized that his lack of leadership in this mission would dictate whether or not Jason aided them as well. His second oldest had all the same information and could very well go off on his own against  Dick and Deathstroke. Bruce couldn’t lose another son to foolish recklessness. 

“The League has not voted to move Dick’s status to wanted yet” Bruce reminded Tim.

Tim nodded, “We know. That’s why we aren’t asking any league members, except you. We aren't bringing any Young Justice members besides Dick’s closest friends either. Megan and Connor might not even be able to assist because they’re still in space”

Bruce nodded, “I” he cleared his throat, “I understand what you are asking of me but as the most experienced crime fighter attending this mission and as the one supplying the majority of equipment and tools for us, I won’t take a backseat if an emergency arises”

Tim nodded, “If something life or death happens, then I think we can all forgive a little spontaneous ordering, especially if it saves lives”

Bruce realized he was still holding his son’s phone hostage and offered it to Tim, “Are you the mission’s lead?”

Tim shrugged, “I found our best evidence but Damian has done a lot of work getting everything together for me and asking others if they can join. I kind of thought we would all just take votes when needed” he looked at the phone as if consulting Jason, “I can’t imagine there will be a lot of conflicting choice,s to be honest. We know where Dick might be and we know that separating him from Slade is the priority so we aren’t going to sit around arguing over who gets to take Slade in unless we actually get the opportunity; with minimal risk”

Bruce frowned at his son's opportunistic plan, “Tim, international, last-minute plans like this rarely go as planned. At the very least this woman could be setting a trap for Dick as part of a lure from the Court and you are about to walk into it for him. If not that, then there are a multitude of other ways or people that could cause this to go south before you even get to Dick”

Tim’s blue eyes hardened with resolve, giving them a shaded grey tone, “I know, Bruce. We know this but that’s why we aren’t barring you from coming. I know you want Dick to be free and safe, but I can also see the obvious advantage of having the Bat with us”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I thought the Bat wasn’t allowed to come”

Tim clenched his jaw, “He’s not. If you want to be childish and play with specific words then I’ll be clear right now. Bruce Wayne is allowed to come and support us, and fight with us, but anything beyond Batman’s skills are barred from this mission. I mean it B. You like to control everything and that can hurt people and push them away too easily. If you don’t control yourself Jason won’t even come and I know the others wouldn’t want to work with us as much. Bruce I know this is just as difficult for you as it is for us but with Dick’s wellbeing as our priority, I don’t care if I hurt your feelings or ego. We need more people, and Jason, if we are going to be successful in basically kidnapping Dick from a contract killer”

Bruce narrowed his eyes but all he could offer was a nod. He despised the burning barren part of him that contorted with shame over the fact that his priorities had never been clearer and yet they had still managed to cause a mess. Bruce thought he had everything straightened out and managed as well as he could. Any spare time he had would be allocated to bringing his oldest son home and Bruce had stayed true and consistent to this plan of action for almost 2 solid years. In retrospect, he could see how he should’ve re-evaluated at least a year ago as he hadn’t saved his oldest and the Wayne Ent. board was still breathing down his neck. He knew that Dick was physically safe with Deathstroke as the man had no obvious plans to eliminate his son; only use him for nefarious means and corruption. Bruce hated the doubtful tension that started to creep into the corners of his mind, hissing accusations and indictments that he should’ve had Dick home and safe by now.

Bruce tried to push them away. If his sons had spent the last 2 years solely focusing on their brother’s rescue then would Bruce have been that much more successful in finding Dick’s whereabouts sooner?

Even now, they didn’t know where Dick was, just where he mostly likely was headed. It was troubling and Bruce hated to feel anything besides secure and confident. Still, he knew that he had to put Gotham ahead of most things. The city was home to some of the world’s most dangerous criminals while housing some of the most vulnerable and victimized people. Bruce knew that if Dick was healthier and in his right mind, he would agree that Gotham’s citizens came first; that was the driving factor behind their oath and pledge for justice after all. Bruce was not eager to focus on the fact that he was being manipulated into aiding his estranged son and his soon-to-be-estranged sons while being sidelined in the process, “So you expect to carry out a mission that is actively against the League’s current agenda while utilizing the aid of half of the founding member’s sidekicks?”

Tim blinked, “Well, when you put it like that it sounds 10 times more difficult to pull off. But let’s be real Bruce, we aren’t sidekicks anymore. I mean Dick, Roy, and Wally are just a few years younger than you and Clark and Diana were when you found each other and formed the Justice League. We can make our own decisions and we aren’t members of the League so I don’t see how they can expect us to be obligated by their rules”

Bruce couldn’t hide the wince that Tim’s tone elicited. He sounded exactly how Wally, Dick, and Roy had sounded when Roy had proclaimed how unfair the Justice League was to sidekicks and then stormed off on his own, becoming Red Arrow and leaving Speedy behind him. Their sidekicks had such bitter conflicted outlooks on how to efficiently pursue justice under orders they hadn’t understood at the time, and Roy was the biggest collaterol. As much as Bruce loved his boys and cherished their skills and support, even he could admit the obvious downside and negative impacts behind making your child, or any child, your partner in a violent world. Bruce’s morals were black and white in a grey anguished world, but he had to draw even firmer lines in the sand after taking on Dick as a student and partner. He’d proven to have a violent vengeful side that Bruce knew he had to reign in and redirect toward protecting Gotham’s citizens before he was unable to manage his aggression. This only became more apparent when he adopted Jason afterward. Tim cast a glance back towards the cave stairs and Bruce realized how fortunate they were that Damian hadn’t interrupted, making this difficult conversation even harder for Bruce.  He’d always struggled with separating his obligations and emotions when it came to his children.

“Look,” Tim said, “All I’m saying is that this is almost a secured and locked-in plan. We are just waiting on our total headcount before we move out but now I have to check with Jason on his latest update”

Jason responded after a moment, “Yean we might want to get there earlier than we planned because now we know where she will be for sure. We don’t want Dick and the old perv getting a better beforehand layout than us”

Bruce looked at the phone in Tim’s hand, “How early were you planning to fly to England originally?”

Jason didn’t answer and Bruce glowered, looking to Tim who shrugged with a knowing look on his face, “We were planning this in about 2 to 3 months to give us some wiggle room in case we need more supplies or people needed more time to wrap up stuff on their end before coming with us”

“Yeah. I can say it all again when the old man stops eavesdropping, but that’s out the window. She and her sugar daddy hubby are going to be staying at the mar-Lyn in England the last week of next month”

Tim’s eyes widened, “Fuck, then Dick and Slade might literally be setting up across the street tomorrow. This moves everything up”

Jason snorted, “Good to know I’m not the only one putting the obvious clues together here. I gotta go. I’ll be in town but call me when shit is actually happening. You should send the demon brat back to Happy habor to pull teeth and get an actual answer so it’s not a 4 person team heading to England in 2 weeks”

Tim gripped the phone tighter, "Where are you going?"

Jason all but groaned, "I have a fucking mess to clean up because Sionis decided to try his luck when I wasn't at a handoff"

Tim nodded and Bruce could see his son’s mind kicking into overdrive and attempting to plan how best to proceed while supplying 2 separate backup plans at the same time. Jason hung up before anyone could question him further, but Tim held the phone like he didn’t register there was now 1 less person in their conversation. 

“We all know what’s at stake here so I am willing to work with you boys as it seems you already have a mission of sorts at hand, but I can’t promise to be able to protect you from any disciplinary actions the League will take”

Tim looked at him in puzzlement, “What? What could they do besides be pissed?”

Bruce crossed his arms, “Multiple things” he said disappointed Tim hadn't considered the consequences, “You could be barred from ever being invited to join the League as an officially fledged member, our meta transports and access could be barred, boundaries and restrictions related to the Young Justice team could be implemented. Should I list more?”

Tim realized Jason had hung up and slid his phone into his back pocket, “I mean that is all legitimate stuff to be aware of but come on Bruce. You don’t actually think any of that will keep us from going after Dick do you? I mean I didn’t research Robin and Batman as a kid because I wanted Superman to make me a member of the Justice League and I could care less about having access to the League's Space Station base if it means Dick is safe and at home”

Bruce nodded, pleased, “Alright. Now run this new evidence you have by me. Let’s add it to the Batcomputer and sync everything so we can access it from the plane and other tech while we are abroad”

Tim nodded, his eyes shining just a little brighter.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason hung up, entirely too eager to escape the chaos that was Bruce Wayne, "Fucking enabler" Jason muttered as he heard Tim talk with Bruce after the man invaded his belongings and privacy. He was throughout fed up, committed to focusing on his business as Redhood before anything else. If he was about to chase after Goldenboy, then he'd had to make sure his territory and business were secure and stable too. He had just messaged Jack, his second, that he'd be along to warehouse 24B shortly. He'd had some men take whatever they could from the failed meeting and schedule one between them and their unstable business partners for 2 days from now. Before that, Jason wanted to make sure who exactly had screwed them over for Sionis. jacks had reported that they'd kidnapped one of the dock workers on his way to get breakfast so they had unfiltered access to someone who was there the entire time. Jason would either make the guy tell him how to confirm what happened or get the bribe straight from his mouth. he pocked his cell and tightened his helmet chin strap again before revving his engine. 

He released the kickstand and was seconds away from taking off when movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to hesitate. It was slow enough to be nearby and easily visible, but not quick enough to be a civilian passing by...someone was watching Jason. He narrowed his eyes and kept his head straight while he focused on his periphery senses. He didn't see anyone else and nothing was raising his Batsenses too horribly, but sometimes Jason worried that his senses were either dulled or hypersensitive from working and living in the ghetto again after spending his teen years in upstate Gotham. He changed a quick look above him to confirm no one was scaling the rooftops over his head and decided to make a break for it. he revved his engine and kicked off, shooting down the street and leaving burnt rubber in his wake. he told himself that he'd just have to take the longest way to jack and make a couple of unnecessary loops along the way. No one could track him well enough to be a threat unless they were also in a vehicle, so whoever was stalking him had lost him now. Jason narrowed his eyes and tried to stay focused on the blurring white dotted lines of the freeway, he'd have to keep an eye out as there were too many players on the board now.

 

Chapter 3

Notes:

Hey there! here's ch 3...a little insight as to what the opposition might be planning for our heroes. Once ch 6 is out the updates might get slower by a few days or a week.

“I’ll let them know” Damian leveled his coldest look at West. West narrowed his eyes and returned it in a way that crinkled all his freckles. Beside him, Harper and Crock leaned against the wall, looking like they weren’t sure how pleased to seem.

Damian could care less about how insulted they felt over his behavior or the general cold shoulder most of the cape community was receiving from the Bat community. He was fed up with attempting to be a people pleaser. Richard had tried to instill the difference between being pleasant and accommodating, and being a self-destructive people-pleaser early on, but Damian quickly caught on to the hypocrisy of it all when he realized an incredibly self-destructive person was teaching him how not to act like himself. Damian was pleased though; in a muted way. He and Drake were finally solidifying their plan and had Todd and Father on board. That confirmation seemed to be the last thing that Richard’s old teammates needed before agreeing to accompany them on their covert rescue mission as well. Damian had informed them they had about 71 hours to make the preparations they needed, maybe an extra 24 hours on top of that but Todd had confirmed where their target would be which meant that Deathstroke had most likely done so a day earlier.

Harper, West, Crock, and Kaldur’ahm were coming with them for their mission. Drake was in inconsistent communication with Miss Marian and Superboy but was hopeful that they could provide technical assistance and support from afar, even if they couldn’t make it for any length of the mission. The hero community had been quick to offer Father and his brothers the cold shoulder when they learned what had happened between his mother covertly invading the cave to kidnap him and Richard’s disappearance with Deathstroke. Damian knew part of his belief was based on self-defense but it was entirely unfair and proved how quick to judgment his father’s co-heroes were. They assumed that anything and everything went as poorly as possible because Tather didn’t clue them in on their private lives.

Damian abhorred the idea that Wallace West could have prevented Talia Al Ghul from attempting a kidnapping and successfully stopped Deathstroke the Terminator from convincing his ill-minded brother to disappear after almost splitting Todd’s face. West’s demeanor had taken a steep downturn since Richard’s departure and he rarely participated in anything anymore. Harper and Crock were one of the few people who could stand him for very long with the exception of his uncle Barry and aunt Iris. Kaldur came around to visit when he could as well, but had formally withdrawn as a Young Justice leader to join the Atlantian army. Damian was still technically a younger member of the Young Justice team but chose not to interact with the sidekicks or the adults shunning his father.

Harper nodded when West didn’t respond, “I’ll be in contact with Jason but I need until at least tomorrow to leave Lian with Ollie and Dinah without drawing too much attention. They think I’m meeting with Jade for something about our last mission” he shared a look with Crock, “But if we take too long, they’re bound to find out when I’m not responding from where they’d expect me to”

Damian scoffed, “As if I care about your teenage pregnancy troubles, Harper”

Roy frowned, “I wouldn't expect you to, and we’re all adults here brat. I’m just saying that when Ollie inevitably checks in with me and messages get coded and geo-tracked back to England, or some shit, the Justice League is easily going to put 2 and 2 together-especially when all the Bats are gone and Wally and Artemis and Kaldur are ‘busy’” he put the last word in finger quotations.

Damian scowled, “I’ll relay this to Drake but it changes nothing”

He turned and made his exit to the Cave meta-transport

 

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

Damian found Drake in the kitchen, surprisingly enough. Drake often had to be coaxed into full meals or offered snacks else he threw himself into a Batman mirrored work ethic and came down with a migraine or cold. Drake was sitting at the dining room table with some sort of fruit drink beside him and a half-finished plate of cheese, sliced deli meats, and crackers. His laptop was open in front of him and he seemed to be scanning or rereading something closely. Damian cleared his throat, catching the older boy’s attention. He looked up, partially startled, “Damian” he greeted.

Damian nodded, “Crock, West, and Harper have all agreed to accompany us within the week. I gave them a deadline of 5 business days though” Drake rolled his eyes but the hint of a smile lifted the corner of his lips.

“Great” he nodded, his eyes slowly drawing back to the screen, “Kaldur agreed too, and Miss. M said she would keep me updated when she and Connor would be able to join up with us if they can. For now, they’ll offer behind-the-scenes help with Barbara while they can”

“I am still surprised she agreed to stay behind,” Damian said, taking a seat and starting on the plate of food.

Tim paused in his reading, “She-uh-she didn’t. Bruce agreed it was best that she didn’t come, but I’m expecting her to figure it out soon enough and by then she’ll only be able to assist us like Miss Martian and Connor. Like if we need something researched or transmitted I guess”

Damian looked at Tim, “You and father are deciding for her? This will not go over well”

Tim nodded solemnly, “I know. She’ll probably be furious, justifiably, but this is dangerous and she has a real civilian life and family outside of us. Bruce doesn’t even want to think about the mess we would come back to if all the Waynes disappeared with his daughter just for Batman to tell him that he is shipping his daughter’s body back from Europe”

Damian picked at a glossy wood knot in the solid oak table, “Almost everyone coming, besides us, has some sort of civilian life and family they would be leaving” Damian said, genuinely trying not to be argumentative.

Tim must have picked up on his tone, “I know” was all he he said. After a moment he added, “But Dick would never forgive us if we got all his friends killed”

They sat in silence for a while and Damian stopped eating from Drake’s plate, “What are you reading?” he eventually asked.

Tim looked up, “Just reviewing” he replied. He turned the laptop around 90 degrees to show Damian, “I’m planning out an itinerary I guess you could say. It’s too hard to make 1 solid plan when we are going up against a master planner like Deathstroke but I’m trying to figure out what we will need to do when we get there, and what they might be trying to do when they get there”

Damian peered at the screen as Tim expanded on his explanation, “There are only a few things that we can rely on for certain in all this. Like the fact that Dick and Deathstroke will either go for a really subvert attack or overdo it with distraction so big no one will notice that De Longe is dead or gone for a while”

Damian nodded in agreement. The laptop screen was split into 4 different tabs of notes and Google Maps outlining the hotel that their target was staying at. There was also a handful of Google tabs open and a background software of most likely generated actions and behaviors to happen-most likely something Drake had put together based on decisions he expected from both parties involved. “When we first get there, I want us to set up across the street. I’ve already bought out the 10th floor of rooms so we won’t have much civilian trouble. We can scope out the area in disguise for the first day or so and it will give me and Bruce some time to get into all the digital mainframe systems in the area; like the CTV cameras and stoplight footage. Basically anything” he waved a hand in the air, “From here is where anything can happen and I want to get Bruce’s opinion. I don’t know if we should cause a distraction and get De Longe out of there so Dick has to come to us or if we should wait for Deatshtroke to make a move”

"Mother always taught me that being on the defensive and reacting to your opponent were equally negative and harmful to one’s strategy”

Tim nodded, “That’s what I was scared of but there are only so many options we have and I don’t want to position us poorly by trying to make the first move. What if Slade and Dick are already there and watch us set up everything? There is no way of knowing if we are playing into a trap”

Damian nodded, “We most likely aren’t, even if they see us before we see them. If we were ever the end game or goal we would be targeted, and know it. Richard has been avoiding us…well”

Tim didn't look up but his brow softened, “Yea” 

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

The sharp click of polished heels and loafers was the only sound confirming any presence of life in the facility. The cold barren walls did their best to maintain breathable air in such a still, lifeless building. Cobb turned down the hallway to his left and was greeted by Mercy stationed outside the double-door entrance. He nodded, avoiding eye contact with a creature so below him. Luthor brought his robotic slave everywhere and Cobb originally assumed it was in an amateurish effort to ooze sex appeal and throw off any younger, conniving associates and partners he encountered. Years later, Luthor had yet to change anything about the machine’s looks, upgrading her internal components and hardware to justify her guarding him at most excursions; Cobb was convinced Luthor was attached to the robot more than anything.

Looking at her firm stance, tight shoulder, and subtle muscle underlying her skin-tight uniform, brought up memories of his wayward grandson. His grandson, a few generations removed, was uniquely fit for almost every faction of life. The boy was born into poverty and made do with very little, never requesting more than the love of his parents. After that, he was swept up into the life of an adored and over-scrutinized playboy, adapting well to the long nights and lack of privacy. Behind the scenes, his adopter was grooming him into someone who would never be able to call himself a true civilian again. The boy was quickly educated on the necessities required to stay alive, while limiting his own potential and learning what true adrenaline cravings felt like. Cobb saw it plainly, he knew Wayne did as well. The way the boy struggled with a lack of buzz and the rush of blood in his ears and under his skin. The boy had been raised as inconsistently as a child could be and because of that could only ever want….more. He wanted to learn and grow, but he needed to push himself and learn his boundaries so that he’d have something unattainable to strive after yet again. Expectations of a degree this severe very rarely left anyone satisfied and content in life. Richard was, for lack of a better term, screwed. The boy was immortal and now had to face the fact that contentment and the unattainable feeling of longing and wishing for more would never ease and fade as he grew older and more incapable; or even when he died and was unable to strive for that rush and feeling anymore. No, the boy, like few others in their world was stuck and, alongside this struggle and yearning for more, he now had to come to terms with the fact that his primary internal spar with his own ambitions and groomed expectations would never ease due to another factor outside his control.

Mercy dipped her head once before opening the door for him. Cobb stepped inside, unbuttoning his lowest jacket button and placing one hand inside his slacks' pocket. The room was large and sparse, making it impossible not to spot the room's inhabitants instantly. At the head of the table sat Luthor and on his right Queen B was reclined in ethereal gold lace. Across from her Vandal Savage sat with his back to Cobb and beside him, Klarion sat like a child; his legs pulled up to his chest and his lanky form balanced precariously on the single chair. Cobb rounded the table, noting how the room seemed to enhance the small clicks of the bottom of his shoes. He sat himself in the open chair on Queen Bee’s other side.

The other 4 observed him cooly but Luthor spoke first, “William” he said coldly, “Ra’s was not able to attend in person but assured us that he will be following up so assume that whatever is discussed today will include the League of Shadows”

Cobb nodded, leaning back, determined not to break eye contact first. Luthor smirked before his gaze slid to Queen Bee and Savage before returning to Cobb, “I must admit, I was not overly pleased to hear what has come of your operations. Of course, in Lydia’s forthcomings and your lack of comradery with her, I have taken into account the blemishes and embellishments in her recounts to me. Nonetheless, this was not a success and the Light does not accept failures”

Cobb nodded, expecting this, “I am glad there is nothing to clear up regarding Lydia’s poor accountability, as she is hardly in a primary leadership position at the Court of Owls, nor the Evolution project. It is true that we have been forced to disperse for the time being due to the Bats, but it was hardly a failure. I reclaimed the test subject and confirmed that reconditioning and additional training and control is an achievable goal. I had the boy for a handful of months and he crumbled to my word without the Bat there to whisper in his ear. I am still having my men investigate as to how the Bats were able to escape and rescue their other wayward brat but they didn’t hinder much else besides forcing operations to halt for the time being”

“As I understand it, you attempted to sell more than half of your captives to the League but Ra’s had reported that he knows nothing of this agreement or transaction” Queen Bee intoned, her full lips shining in the lights above. Cobb nodded, “The circumstances that offered me the opportunity to reclaim my grandson consequently left me with the Batman's other boys as well. It wasn’t long before their father followed suit but he was no match for my talons; on my own turf”

Klarion let loose a sharp distorted giggle, “But then why are we discussing your loss and not your victory?”

Cobb frowned, not deigning the psychotic witch with a response. 

“One would assume that if you had the majority of the Wayne household trapped under your thumb, reaching out to myself or the Light would’ve been a more beneficial decision than selling them to their enemies which ”Luthor leaned forward, “Turned out to be more of a grey area than your anticipated, apparently”

Queen Bee crossed her arms, “Truly, William. What were you thinking when you attempted to sell the Redhood and Redrobin? You have enough wealth to last a single familial line generations”

Cobb turned his gaze to the tall woman, “While I was benefitting financially from the attempted transaction, the intention was more to build prospering relationships”

“Do not take us for fools” Savage grumbled from where he sat in the small-looking chair, “Ra’s is a member of the Light and is in no need for additional friendly relations with you, and you sold Redhood to a common street criminal. Your justification is pathetic if true”

Cobb allowed a frown to grace his features at the blatant insult, “It’s quite clear how many of you doubt the extent to which the Demon head will go to acquire Wayne and his second youngest son. I had his blood grandson as well, so believe me when I say, that this would have sent a significantly more severe message than just friendly relations” he sneered, “My primary base of operations is within Gotham as well. Sionis may be a pathetic, lowly drug runner, but he is the most secure criminal mastermind in the area who still retains his full mental faculties. He was the best bet to build relations with”

Vandal stared him down from the corner of his eye and Cobb swore he heard a rumbling as low as the Grey Son’s when in a fit of fury, “Still” Savage said, “It remains that you had the Batman in your grasp and we were not even aware of it until after your business partner saw fit to tattle on you. Everything else aside, it is not comforting that you're looking to expand the Court with individuals who would turn on you so quickly. This level of distrust goes beyond even the Light and will inevitably lead to your organization internally crumbling quicker than you could save it”

Luthor nodded, “I agree with this William, if you wish to continue benefitting from your relations and membership with us, you must reign in your underlying. It appears some of them do not know their place”

Cobb nodded, dipping his head as a sign of gratitude and acquiescing to his obvious admonishment. 

“I assume you have secured the Grey Son somewhere safe if the Batman and his Robins are running amock in Gotham now”

Cobb was unable to stop the involuntary tenseness in his shoulders, “The Batman escaped with all his children”

The room fell silent.

“You mean to tell me that you lost the boy? Again?” Savage’s neck strained and pulsed with grotesque veins beneath his skin as he fought the urge to throttle Cobb across the table, “The only reason your ridiculous funding was extended was because the child’s mother tested positive, Cobb. You failed in protecting the parents and we are now down to one last source”

Cobb nodded, “We were ambushed at Lydia’s main office in Gotham where I ordered my best talons to disperse. In the chaos, the Batman kidnapped the boy”

Luthor frowned, leaning back, “Lydia did not mention this”

Cobb smirked darkly, “Hense her unreliable and inconsistent embellishments. She, no doubt, wanted no part in being involved with the loss of our most successful experiment”

Luthor nodded in agreement, “It stands to be seen that your experiment is in the hands of Batman and your talons have scattered. How do you plan to correct this William?”

Savage persisted as well, “I can allow your petty possessiveness of the boy, but he is not yours and your actions reflect that you believe he is. You continue to act without consulting your superiors...We cannot continue like this William” Savage’s gaze darkened considerably, “Not if you wish to survive and see another day”

Cobb sniffed, appearing unbothered, “My second, Lincoln Marsh, is overseeing the re-gathering of our best talons. We had many involved with overseas assignments and international dealings; they will be called home as well. Fortunately, in recouping the loss of the test subject, we will not have to deal with Batman

Klarion leaned forward as if watching a TV show with an unexpected twist.

Queen Bee nodded, “I’ve heard as much as well. The demon head has informed me that his daughter is working on a separate activity for him. She had a very recent interaction with Batman and reported that it appears as if Deathstroke has disappeared with a little bird. I think it’s safe to say that unless another one of Bruce Wayne’s children is of sudden interest to the mercenary, then Deathstroke has taken the boy with him. What’s unclear is if it’s a consensual situation”

Cobb corrected his gold cufflinks, tugging his undershirt down, “I believe it to be consensual, for the most part. I hired Deathstroke years ago to get me access to the boy in the first place. It was not clear that he had a vendetta" Cobb sneered, “His abnormal obsession with the boy became a hindrance; causing us to part ways, “He and Batman were both kidnapped when they attempted a rescue mission for my grandson”

Klarion squealed, “Ooooooh, so you lost Batman aaaaaand Deathstroke the Terminator?”

Cobb bristled but felt the gazes of the room on him, “He did indeed make his escape in the fray and chaos”

Savage scoffed, “Do not give yourself or your security measure any credit. Wilson was most likely using Wayne to get to the boy and played you along the way. I’ve never seen Wilson securely held for longer than a week. If he is an active player, he will no doubt be a hindrance. He must be addressed sooner rather than later”

“Is any of this confirmed?” Luthor asked, drumming his fingers, “Or are we spiraling down this path because of a rumor from the Middle East?”

Klarion’s hand shot up, but he spoke before he could be called upon, “I’ll send the smallest more efficient army to ascertain the truth of this. An army that the Batman cannot have prepared security measures specifically for”

Savage sniffed, “What are you referring to witch? Do not tell me you plan to send in a shrunken assassin?”

Klarion held a hand to his chest, “No! Even better! Spiders” he grinned.

Savage frowned like he was insulted by a lame joke.

Queen Bee smirked, “It is crude and unexpected, but should work well”

Luthor looked to Queen Bee as if to ask, “Truly?”

She nodded, “The boy can commune with almost anything he summons. If he can send in a few spiders to watch the Wayne household and report back. I see no issue”

Luthor tilted his head, “If this has been so reliable and possible, why haven’t we done this before when needed elsewhere?” His features were stone cold as if waiting for the appropriate amount of information before exploding into a rage.

In the background, Klarion had started to tick off on his fingers, “Oh yes, spiders, flies, goldfish, ladybugs, although they are as self-centered as you’d expect”

Queen Bee’s expression fell flat, “It is not the spiders that become unreliable after so long in the field”

Luthor’s gaz dragged towards Klarion, where the young adult man sat fiddling with a notch in the wood, unassuming to the conversation about him. Luthor nodded, appeased for now, “It’s decided then, Queen Bee will oversee this to confirm if that financial black hole you call a boy is with Wayne or not. If not, we can assume Deathstroke does indeed have him somewhere, yes?”

The last part was directed more at Cobb, to which he nodded firmly.

“Even if Wilson does not have the boy, it seems his contracts have slowed enough in recent years for his obsession with the boy to flare up again. I propose that we keep him close to ensure that we keep the boy within arms reach; by proxy” Vandal narrowed his wide predatory eyes on Cobb across from him, as if asking him to challenge the idea.

Cobb looked to Luthor, “I assure you the boy’s spirit is broken. He obeys myself and Lincoln. Whatever he is busying himself with these days is merely that, busy work to escape the fact that his training is as a part of him as his own bone structure”

Queen Bee chuckled, “Forgive me William, but where in any of the past events has this been understood correctly by you? You lost the boy after 5 years and when you reclaimed him, your influence was still not without the Bat’s shadow. You seem to have lost him again, whether to our enemy or ally. If the boy were as loyal as we are striving for, he would be clawing back to you as we speak”

Cobb leaned forward, unable to restrain the snarl distorting his beard, “That boy has more conditioned behaviors and believes inside his thick skill than Romani vocabulary. Influences are just that, as soon as I speak, the boy doesn’t stand a chance”

Luthor spoke sharply, cutting off their seemingly private exchange, “Be that as it may. You have failed to seclude the boy away, and if that is what it takes to keep him controlled then we must adhere to other options while he is free” he nodded to Savage, “What do you think Vandal?”

Savage leaned back, smugness rolling off his broad shoulders, “While he isn’t exclusively contracted to me, Wilson has been my man for the past decade or so. If I start contracting him for large or small missions, I don’t think it would raise any significant concerns with him. The man knows not to turn down a good dollar. As soon as we confirm he has the boy, I can offer him a position as my extended security and offer him any future contracts and agendas I would have offered to others like Deadshot or Sportsmaster. We can keep him close and keep an eye on the boy and any possible scheming he has planned”

Klarion kicked his feet, “You think too much and too little of the big ol’ killer” he rhymed in a light flurry. Queen Bee turned to the youngest member as he sang in a perfectly off-key pitch, “He wants less from us and more from his bird. F-O-R-E-V-E-R-L-I-V-I-N-G”

She leaned back, “The boy is right, Wilson may have plans that rely on outliving a majority of the Light now that the boy is immortal; like himself”

Cobb scoffed, “That man has always thought too highly of himself, considering he is nothing more than a failed U.S. American attempt at enhanced strength for the purposes of weaponization. Dismember the man and he is as good as dead”

Luthor smirked, “Are you insinuating that Richard Grayson can somehow fight dismemberment?

Cobb smirked, enjoying the attention for the first time of the night, “No, but you’d need to get close enough for long enough to succeed, which would be a trial all in itself. The hardest part though would snapping his skeleton. There are few places where you could pierce his body enough to disable him, as I doubt many opponents will have the force by the ton, strong enough to snap or crack adamantium”

Savage had leaned forward, his dark eyes shined beneath the light with enticement, “On top of that” he interrupted Cobb, “The boy’s healing abilities and electrum are all interconnected so given enough time, the adamantium would mend itself. Truly a spectacle” he awed in a deep gravelly voice.

Cobb frowned but didn’t interrupt as the man seemed to be in support of what he’d done to the boy for once. 

“I was aware of his regenerative capabilities but metal plates inside?” She was skeptical but intrigued as she was one of the members with the primary connections to the funded evolution project.

Luthor waved her off, “It gets far too technical too quickly, my dear. Think of it like natural minerals that are melted or compounded together to create the metals we use in our transit and development systems. Wayne’s brat is the mountain and the metals inside are the minerals, given enough time. Like a diamond's natural development process"

Cobb and Savage both narrowed their eyes, displeased to hear that Luthor still saw their text subject as Wayne’s. Queen Bee’s lips thinned at the light dismissal. She pushed herself to her feet and turned to Cobb, “I want your doctors to send me a summary file on the boy so I understand what you've done more adeptly. That boy is obviously not the final product, but he is by far the best we’ve achieved and you have been too lenient with almost everything, it sounds. Tighten your ship, Cobb, lest we do it for you”

“Now, now, I think we should keep in mind that the boy is of use to almost everyone so, even kept under lock and key by opponents of ours. He is safe if not for the fact that he is virtually impossible to kill and keep dead”

Queen Bee ignored Luthor and narrowed her expectant gaze on Cobb to her left. Cobb nodded with a gentlemanly bow. She scoffed and made her way around the table and out of the room without a second glance at the other occupants. 

“Meeting’s over. That’s all folks!” Klarion crowed, mimicking the looney toons outro.

Savage made a disgusted sound deep in his throat and pushed himself away from the young man; making his way to Luthor to discuss other matters. He was not pleased to hear Queen Bee's sentiment on the Grayson boy, as if he were a prototype, but then again, if minimizing the boy's significance in her mind allotted Savage more of an opportunity to sequester the boy away when it was time-then he couldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

 

Chapter 4

Notes:

Hey there! ch 4 is here. A few more chapters and then the action will start picking up again

“I’m sorry Dinah, really, but I have to go and-”

“I know Roy, you keep saying Jade needs you-” she cut herself off with a sigh, “Please just tell me the truth. You know I’d never not take Lian, or protect her with my life, but where are you really going? Does this have anything to do with why Bruce, Tim, and Damian have all but withdrawn from league involvement?”

Roy couldn’t stop the surprise that flitted over his face or the way he tensed. Dinah’s lips thinned in disappointment, “Be honest with me Roy. I can’t help you if all you do is lie”

It was a line Roy had heard one too many times. One of Dinah’s and Ollie’s favorite lines when he was struggling with his addictions. Roy frowned, watching as Dinah shifted Lian to her other hip, swaying slightly to soothe her, “I’m not asking for your help with the bats, I’m just asking for you to take Lian until I’m back. You know I’ll pay you back for any babysitting and whatever if both of you guys get called out”

Dinah scowled, her soft tone slipping quickly, “Don’t even start down that train of thought, Harper. I will not be compensated for watching my grandchild”

Roy threw his hands up, “Great! Then watch her until I’m back”

Dinah was close to snarling at the redhead, “Where are you going Roy? I know Jade isn’t out on active right now. You’re not the only one with contacts outside of the cape community”

As much as Dinah was a safe space for most members of the league and often acted as a stand-in mother and therapist for the young remembers, always restraining her authentic feelings and emotions, with those around her in mind, often took a toll. Roy liked that she was most authentic and rough around the edges around him and Ollie the most , but that often meant that she genuinely lashed out at the 2 of them much more often. Roy sometimes had a difficult time distinguishing her tone from that of genuinely upset versus needing to blow off steam from keeping too much bottled up around children fighting an adult war. To everyone on the outside, it looked like Black Canary was the harshest with her partner and nephew but Roy knew differently; he felt it differently.

Roy exhaled heavily, trying to block the rising guilt from worming its way into his bones, “I can’t say it bluntly because of the voting that the JL still hasn’t done, but you aren’t wrong that this involves the Bats”

Dinah’s expression softened considerably, “Dick” she murmured quietly. It wasn’t a question. Roy looked away, finding the wall over her shoulder. They both knew what was happening and why Roy refused to say much more. At the very least, Roy would be revealing their secret mission and implicating himself, a worst-case scenario would see Black Canary punished for knowing and withholding information the League had already deemed to be on hold and off limits. She ran a single finger up and down Lian’s cheek, always one to promote positive physical attention for beneficial early childhood development and growth, “Promise me you’ll be careful” she said lowly.

Roy nodded, “We aren’t going out to apprehend Deathstroke or anything. This is a bare-bones mission but I can’t not go”

Dinah nodded but her emerald eyes shown with pride at the young man who was her son in all but blood. He’d stood by them through thick and thin, relying on Dinah and Ollie like genuine parents, and they’d seen him through teen parentage and addiction, all while maintaining a position within the vigilante community. Canary sometimes thought that they mirrored the Wayne household quite well, with the exception of numerical family members and inept communication not lacking as severely, “Will I be surprised if Bruce drops off the face of the earth in the next month? Or Wally or Artemis?” Roy shook his head silently. Dinah nodded.

“I know you’ll say yes, but seriously Roy, be careful. You have your daughter and more to come back to now. You have an obligation that you didn't have when you, Dick, and Wally were best friends”

Roy nodded firmly, trying to convey how deeply he felt the severity, “I will. I promise. This is a rescue mission, nothing more”

Dinah’s expression didn’t waver, “This involves Deathstroke the Terminator. There are always issues when he’s involved. That man has no loyalty to anyone but his routing number. The fact that he’s pursued Dick after all these years does nothing to appease my belief that he’s a traitorous lone wolf”

Roy wasn’t sure what else to say. Dinah's tone he'd a spiteful conviction of someone who knew the consequences of Deathstroke's presence better than most, “I’ll be back for Lian”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Movement woke Dick to the immeasurable roading of jet engines. His ears had popped so many times that the ridiculously loud rumble felt lesser now. The sounds around him brought his senses back quicker than normal. Slade said that waking after death, or in general, too many times desensitized certain sensory abilities and cognition slowed in ways nothing could overcorrect for. “Dying too many times takes its toll on a body meant for mortals,” he said, “Coming back gets slightly quicker, but never easier”

Dick found his instinctual reactions to be frustrating, due to his lack of control. He’d snapped Wintergreen’s wrist one time when the elderly man had woken him too abruptly. He’d been drinking and that, coupled with the lack of familiarity a couch had brought, led him to lash out. Slade had a number of enhanced healing serums to reduce the healing time, even for a man Wintergreen’s age, but it didn’t diminish how sickly Dick had felt; especially after the man held no ill will towards him. Slade had faced a number of injuries due to Dick’s erratic instincts and his inability to predict his own reactions and control them, but snapping Slade’s wrist felt much less consequential when he could hear it heal and snap back over the next half hour.

“Mmmmmm” Dick groaned, turning away from the window light. He’d been so determined to take the window seat as well. Slade’s firm grip squeezed his shoulder again and Dick forced his eyes open to meet that single blue steely orb that seemed to be his only consistent anymore.

“We’re close,” Slade said. He was freshly shaved and his hair was slicked back, leaving just a trim goatee and a fake eye to match, “Get yourself up and walk me through our plans for the week”

Dick groaned and nodded, hoping that Slade would take pity and let him drift off again. The grip over his shoulder bordered on painful and Dick forced himself to sit up and take a deep breath, “Ok, ok” he amended. The hand fell from his shoulder and he heard his mentor’s heavy feet pad down the aisle. The airplane wasn’t big, one of Slade’s many private fleets, but this one was more for tactical preparation as the majority of the jet cabin was bare; save for 2 rows of seats. The space had been cleared for tables and storage space, allowing room for equipment, weapons, and any overly large maps. Wintergreen was upfront with the pilot, making conversation, but Dick felt in a solemn mood; preferring the quiet. Speaking felt like too much of a drain on his system at the moment. No one had brought it up for his sake, but they all knew that a run-in with the cape community, or his closer family and friends, was inevitable. 

Knowing Bruce and Tim, there were most likely 4 to 5 different maps tracking his movements. One for his past movements, one for his potential sightings, one for Slade, one for his predicted movements, and so on. He was surprised that after all the international contracts and scouting missions, Slade had taken him on, they’d been lucky so far. It was probably due to the sporadic nature of their mobility, but it was surprising nonetheless. A while back, Slade had taken Dick with him when he visited Rose at her mother’s village in Vietnam. The trip had been one of the most soothing and relaxing moments Dick could remember. He loved the opportunity to relax with Rose and her aunts. They adored him when compared to Slade. It was also one of the only places he could seem to get any genuine sleep; since then Slade had unofficially deemed that as their vacation and break destination between contacts. They hadn’t been back in a handful of months so Dick found himself antsy, wondering when Slade would allow them back. Dick would’ve pushed for it sooner, but he knew that with so many different parties most likely tracking their movements it wasn’t smart to keep reappearing in the same spot, even if they never made any memorable kills in Vietnam.

The thought of his brothers and Bruce twisted his stomach but Dick was never ready to truly confront that issue, preferring to push it away and smother it under training and missions, lest his anger and resentment give way to a lack of focus and control again. He’d learned to push himself and utilize his body and mind in ways that Bruce wouldn’t be able to allow. Not just because of his strict adherence to black and white morals, but because he would never know what it was like to need to practice rising from a broken neck as quickly as possible. Or training to die gripping whatever weapon you had as tightly as possible so that when you did rise, you were not unequipped to handle the enemies that had just gotten the better of you.

Dick reached up and dragged his backpack down from the luggage hold, plopping it into his lap. He heard Slade shifting and moving stuff loudly in the back, letting Dick know that his patience wasn’t infinite. Dick pulled out a bottle of water and tore a pack of electrolytes open, swirling it around to give him a little boost of energy after so many flights. He unzipped the smallest pouch and pulled out the small 2-inch casing of blue powder. He dipped his finger into the bright mixture before dragging it across his tongue and taking another swig of water. He took a deep breath and leaned his head back, forcing his focus onto anything besides his body. 

The familiar heat started in his chest, like the beginnings of heartburn, and worked its way down until his fingers and toes started to tingle with a faint numbness that worried him every time, and made him wonder, did I go too far this time?

The wave of heat was so potent it bordered on painful but subsided quickly as his immune system and overactive regeneration beat it down quickly.

“Richard” the tone left no room for anything save obedience. Dick pushed himself to his feet, after tightly capping the small makeup-sized container, and made his way back down the aisle toward Slade. He nodded his head like he knew the man expected, preparing for the role of Master and apprentice and the atmosphere of subservience that Slade wanted to convey to anyone who saw them in the field. The polarizing expectations had been disorienting at first for Dick. In the beginning, he knew he’d agreed to let Slade drag him all over the globe, out of fear of himself and the potential that everyone seemed awed by, but never for the right reasons. Slade allotted him a handful of months to mope and feel like the angst-disgruntled teen he wanted to be before he put an end to it. Very quickly his training schedule and weapons experience expectations were laid out, leaving him about 3 hours total each day to himself; if he didn’t want sleep deprivation. Slade had started off by changing or disappearing all the clocks in their haunt at the time, which didn’t help Dick’s mood regulation in the slightest. Slade justified it by saying, “If I am going to be taking you along to every mission, participation or not, you need to be prepared as I am for double crosses and traps. That means you need to be able to wake up from the deepest sleep possible and pack yourself up, already knowing the plan B within a few moments. Schedule flexibility will offer you a time advantage over any enemy”

After Slade forced Dick’s acceptance of strange schedules for the sake of protection, he introduced him to a new level of training and team leadership he never thought he’d have to face again. Slade, or his varying robots, were the default opponents for him so that Dick couldn't plausibly justify pulling back and limiting his strength and range of attacks. In the first year, Slade had made it very clear that if Dick wasn’t about to try his hardest, he wouldn’t be allowed out of his cell-sized room.

______

Dick choked as Slade’s palm pressed down firmly over his adams apple. The taller man leaned in menacingly and Dick knew he was in too deep when his pulse skyrocketed, but he wasn’t sure if it was from apprehension or excitement, “If you don’t break at least one bone in my body by the end of the hour, you’re going to regret it, pretty bird”

Dick swallowed as best he could. They’d been at it for at least 3 hours and his breathing was still irregular and huffy, his tight gymnast-like clothes sticking to him like a second skin.

“I’ll try but I don’t see the point in trying to force me to be overly violent. Most of our work is behind the scenes or off a rooftop, or-or breaking and entering-”

Slade’s other hand left Dick’s hip and wrenched his hair back until his throat was barred and vulnerable, “Wrong” Slade hissed, his facial hair scraping just below his chin, “Your enemies will all be overly violent and volatile. Every. Single. Time. You will be expected to handle them appropriately and efficiently with or without me and that will often demand your full attention and strength”

Slade leaned in until Dick could feel whispers of breath and lips against the shell of his ear. Dick’s gaze was stuck upward, staring at the cycling and upper portion of the wall while he prayed that Slade couldn’t hear his heartbeat kick into overdrive at the simple action, “Tell me Pretty Bird, what would happen if we were contracted to rescue a child from violent gangsters and child molesters, but in order to do so, you’d have to neutralize them as quickly as possible. Would you agree that pulling punches and checking each and every pulse would be efficient for the child at risk?”

Dick narrowed his eyes, “That’s such BS. You can’t guilt trip me into conforming because of some overly specific scenario”

Slade’s hand left his throat and was embedded inches into the wall just as Dick finished speaking. He would’ve flinched, but with his hair tangled in Slade’s grip and his back already against the wall, he had very little movement. The sound of support beams and drywall giving way beneath Slade’s fist subsided and all that was left was their panting, “Try again” Slade whispered sinisterly, his fingers brushing Dick’s with each syllable.

Dick struggled to find a response to his rising confusion, “What? I-”

“You think my example is too specific?”

Dick, still unsure, nodded.

Slade allowed Dick some space, his gaze cold and hard, “And here I thought, you were close with my children. Rose always thought you and Grant would butt heads, but bond nonetheless; if he was still with us”

Dick’s gut dropped as he realized Slade’s words. Slade saw him make the connection and most likely would have smiled if not for it being one of the few subjects Slade would never make light of, “Joey” Dick breathed in horror. Of course, how could he forget that the boy he treated as a younger brother, when he thought his first little brother was 6 feet under, had almost died in a horrific kidnapping as a child. Slade Wilson’s life had been ruined in an entire month. Grant had gone out on a mission without Slade’s knowledge or permission, leading to his death, and his wife discovering the true income of their family's breadwinner. Not long after, Slade’s most recent contract had double-crossed him for being uncooperative and had targeted his family, bombing Rose’s school and kidnapping Joey. Rose was saved but Joey had had his throat slashed and left a mute. Joey had told Dick years later that he knew his father would never hold back where his safety was concerned, but believed that Slade was trying to minimize the brutal deaths in an attempt to prove to his soon-to-be-ex wife that he wasn’t the murderous monster she thought was hiding behind her husband’s face.

Dick felt shame heat his cheeks and opened his mouth to backtrack as best he could when Slade interrupted him, shifting his grip from his hair to his cheeks and squishing his face until Dick could feel his teeth start to leave imprints, “I don’t want your apologies, kid. I want your understanding that whether or not your mission is to protect those close to you, or purely to succeed in whatever task you’ll be paid for, you’re doing me and yourself a disservice by holding back in any capacity. I won’t permit it”

Dick huffed angrily, “Say I agree, you can’t order me around like you think you can. I know I’m fucked up and not totally human anymore, but I won’t just roll over like your pet dog”. Some of his words came out garbled as he struggled against his smushed cheeks.

Slade hummed and loosened his grip loosened slightly, “Alright kid, you’ve got me. I want your fire and free spirit, but I certainly don’t want it working against me now do I?”

He paused, waiting for Dick to actually answer. Dick shook his head, not sure where this was going.

“Exactly, so if you’re not with me” Slade leaned in again, and Dick realized that they were all but sharing the same breath. His head was swimming and Dick wasn't sure if it was nerves, or something that would be better left unsaid, that was causing the heat to pool beneath his skin and his extremities to tingle with a molten numbness, “You’re certainly not going to be against me little bird”

Dick ignored how his voice trembled and how dry his throat felt, “You can’t force me to join you. What if I ditch you in the field or on a mission?”

Slade grinned and Dick had never seen a lion leer so wolfishly at someone before, “You can join me when you’re ready to accept that this life will do your heart and head wonders. Until then, well..your bedroom has a lock on the outside”

Dick felt overridden with emotions and feeling. Indigincancy and anger were warring with shame and anxiety, and beneath it was a syrupy heated feeling that Dick refused to even name; much less acknowledge.

“You’re mine, Richard Grayson, with or without your consent. I’m not a religious man but I don’t think it’s a far stretch to imply that the fates have chosen very few people in this world to become immortal. Even your grandfather needs his placebo piss of electrolites to maintain himself” Slade leaned away and Dick despised the sudden urge to follow him and his lips, to lean after him, “I’m a patient bird watcher though, we have forever after all”

__

Slade’s gaze rested on his shoulder and fell down to his fingers, telling Dick all he needed to know about how well he was hiding his body’s reaction.

“If you stopped integrating weaknesses int-”

“It’s my body, Slade” Dick growled, his eyes narrowed on the digital map of the UK that Slade had pulled up. He was sick of Slade pushing for him to change. Slade expected him to throw himself headfirst into his new abilities like being some talonized freak was a gift. The only gift his great-great-grandfather had allotted him was turning him into enough of a freak that even his family excluded and barred him, allowing him to see beyond the black and white of Bruce’s preferred parental upbringing methods. Slade crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the data table, “Then show me I’m not permitting weakness into my ranks by allowing you your foolishness. I could easily force you over this hump of self-imposed insecurity. I will if it becomes a problem, apprentice”

Dick heard and felt the tonality of danger beneath Slade’s tone, “Yes Master” he replied. Slade accepted his show of respect well enough, “You said you knew how to handle yourself and that you were prepared” he gestured to the table, his eye still set on Dick, “So show me. Walk me through your plan, pretty bird”

Dick reached out and took the digital map, zooming in until their location of interest was clear as day, “De Longe and her husband are expected in 7 days about 2 hours, give or take flight delays and paparazzi crowd control. The hotel she’ll be staying at….”

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Wally threw himself down in the seat beside Artemis. Roy was on her other side, scrolling on his phone. They’d taken the second row as soon as they got onto Batman’s jet. Batman and Damian were seated up front at the pilot controls while Jason and Tim were seated across from Wally and the others. Tim had 2 phones out and a laptop and iPad balanced on each thigh while Jason was glaring daggers into the back of the headrest in front of him.

The plane was utterly quiet.

Artemis leaned over, “If you don’t stop glaring at one of them, they’re going to sick Jason on you” she whispered. Her tone was light and teasing but the warning was not.

“I don’t care,” he said turning to her. This mission was volatile enough and they were helping out the bat by providing the extra manpower they needed in case Deathstroke really did become the problem he was expected to be. He told her as much and her expression became fiercer.

“We are not doing them a favor, you dick” she hissed. “We are helping each other. We were no closer to finding Dick and Batman would’ve failed to bring Dick back if it was just 4 of them versus Deathstroke, possibly Dick too”

He glared at the floor, not in the mood to admit how correct his girlfriend was, “When is Kaldur getting here?”

“Soon” Rory answered from beside Artemis. He wasn’t in a perky mood either. Rory had informed them that Dinah, and most likely Ollie, knew about their covert mission so they were racing against the clock until the JL discovered where and what they were doing as well. It had come down to just the 8 of them with possible reinforcements in Connor and Megan as well. Wally prayed it was enough. He knew his best friend was more than capable of taking most of them on at once and winning. Wally himself had only ever beaten Dick when they were kids. He still remembered being introduced to Robin, the first sidekick in middle school. 

___

The intimidating Dark Knight had stood tall and imposing in the Justice League Hall of Fame room while Barry had escorted his nephew in, who had recently discovered his abilities. For a while the two adults had discussed a league for sidekicks and younger members, noting how many other children had abilities or skills connected to League members. Wally had tuned a lot of it out, choosing to look around the room and all the advanced equipment and technology covering every square inch. He’d been told he was going to meet another superhero his age but didn’t see anyone but Batman. Wally chanced a glance before looking away. Batman was one of the tallest strongest men he’d ever seen, and Uncle Barry had told him that he, Superman, and Wonder Woman had founded the Justice League. Wally had disregarded the large man, that moved about the cape community like a shadow, until he learned he was the only high-ranking human member. Ever since then, Wally couldn’t help but see the man differently; more dangerously. Apparently, he was filthy rich and had trained with every mercenary group known to man, coming back from the Middle East with the Demon Head’s blessing and a moral code higher than the sky.

“Wally” Wally jerked his head up to his uncle, noticing that they were both staring at him expectantly.

“Huh?” 

Uncle Barry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Kids” he chuckled to Batman whose face didn’t so much as twitch. Uncle Barry looked back to Wally, “Batman was asking if you feel ready to work with others your age. There are some others we are vetting and want you to become familiar with each other before actually working on missions out in the field"

Wally grinned, excitement fluttering in his stomach, “Yea!”

Batman watched him stoically, “Robin,” he said.

A light chirping laugh echoed around them as a young boy dropped down beside the Dark Knight causing Wally to almost stumble back in shock. He looked up in bewilderment, wondering where the boy had come from, but the rafters lining the ceiling were far too high up for anyone to just leap from, right?

He jerked his head back to the boy and was dumbfounded to see a boy his age standing so casually beside Batman. Where Batman was the living embodiment of shadows and consequences, imposing figure and all; this was the complete opposite. The boy across from him was dressed in bright green leggings, a yellow vest, and a green and black cape. A bright red R plastered to his chest. He smiled brightly, and Wally swore some of the tension in the room melted from that grin alone, “Hi! I’m Robin, nice to meet you”

Robin stuck out his gloved hand and Wally wished that he could see behind the simple domino mask to obtain even more of that smiling face, “I’m Kid Flash” Wally said proudly, “What’s your power?”

Robin’s smile never faltered, “Technically none, but I like to think that my skills at a trampoline park make up for that”

Wally would forever hate himself for how he responded, “What?” he did a double take to his uncle, “You don’t have any abilities? None?”

Robin shook his head, “Nope” he popped the P.

“You’re just human?” 

Robin cocked his head, “Why? Are you an alien like Superman?”

Wally shook his head, “Well, no, but why are you on the team if you’re normal?”

Robin’s smile faltered but his stance stayed firm, “Because not everyone needs to run fast to make a difference” he said. Wally cringed under the other boy’s conviction. He may be young, but he could see when he’d crossed the line.

“Walls” Uncle Barry laid a hand on his shoulder, “Robin here has been in the field for a few years already. He’s got the most experience and seniority over all the sidekicks we are looking at. You included. Apologize”

Wally felt his cheeks burn, “Sorry” he murmured. He looked up and had to resist the urge to cringe further when he spotted Batman’s hard white gaze already on him.

Later that week, the adults had them spar under strict supervision and Wally found himself eating his words when it took him 23 minutes to take down a human boy, almost a whole year younger than him. In his defense, if he hadn’t known Robin was human, Wally would have assumed he was enhanced in some way. The other boy’s ability to sense others’ movement around him and react seconds before a hit or attempted strike amazed Wally. Well, at the moment it crushed his ego and humiliated him in from of 4 different Leagues, but later Wally was amazed at how well Robin had held his own against a meta-human. He’d thrown everything he could think of at the other boy. He’d run straight at him, only to be tripped up time and time again. The other boy had hidden in the rafters and forced Wally to go search for him, bringing him into his territory. When Wally wasn’t successful he tried his slightly enhanced strength, throwing punches and kicks wherever he could. Robin seemed to enjoy the challenge, flipping and gliding about the redhead like he was made of air more than he was skin and bones. The way the other boy flipped and spun dumbfounded Wally alone. He needed almost no time to prepare before he launched himself straight up with a double or triple flip; making the the floor seem reactive and bounce-like. Wally would never admit it, but he only got lucky and landed a powerful hit to the boy’s back with some well-timed luck. Robin’s suit was made more for his offensive flexibility and maneuverability so when Wally landed a hit to his shoulder, it didn’t take a lot to send the boy flying into the sparring mats. Wally was quick to pin him but was shocked to see the boy smiling between pants.

“That was great!” he exclaimed. Wally glanced at his uncle, unsure. He’d never really sparred or fought anyone outside of his uncle but he was pretty sure losers weren't supposed to be happy. “Uhhhh, you know I won, right?” he stood up and held out a hand to the other boy. Robin accepted his hand and jumped up, “Yea but I lasted 3 minutes longer than I usually do which shows improvement, and” he leaned in to whisper, “B has never let me spar with metas before so I must be getting good enough for him to let me” Robin grinned and they both glanced behind to see the Dark Knight. Robin offered a bright grin back to the menacing adult. That was when Waly realized that Robin was another being entirely. You’d have to be in order to cohabitate and coexist with a man like Batman and retain any semblance of optimism. Whatever glare Batman offered must have translated very differently to each boy because when Wally felt the urge to cringe and look away, but Robin’s smile only broadened.

___

Wally passed the time by burning a hole into the jet’s floor with his gaze. He couldn’t seem to block out Jason and Tim on his right. Jason had never been particularly eager to be cooperative and work with others in a team setting, but to see him doing exactly that for Dick made Wally’s insides sour. He hated that he wasn’t one of the ones leading this mission for Dick, it made him feel like Dick’s family, who already had a history of inconsistent love and support, had to convince him and the others to join their mission. He knew that Dick loved his family but he wasn’t blind to Bruce’s horrible parenting or his brother’s inconsistent presence in place of Dick’s effort. Roy and Wally had heard Dick's complaints and need to blow off steam ever since they formed the first sidekick group. Wally was there to witness it all, he was Dick’s friend before Jason was even adopted. He witnessed how Robin and Dick had to counter and make up for Bruce’s lack of emotional maturity and his cold demeanor, he was there to witness Jason Todd stealing his mother’s legacy with an attitude, only to come around to Dick’s openness and love later. He saw how Dick exposed every one of his scabbed wounds and emotional scars in order for Tim to feel more at home and accepted, only to cling to Bruce and the Bat, like he’d put in the effort and not Dick. Everyone saw how abused Dick allowed himself to be for Damian’s sake. Dick was just a teenager and taking the brunt and verbal backlash that Damian threw around like it was nothing, when they all knew that Bruce stood by and let Dick try to be a parent so that he could maintain a relationship with his only blood-related son.

Wally had never said it outright, with the exception of dropping hints and snide remarks, but Dick’s family didn’t deserve him one bit. Relationships should be like his and Dick’s where. They only worked to uplift each other and care for one another. Wally would never admit it but he was almost jealous of the deep bond Dick and Roy shared; mostly secured by Roy’s trauma and Dick’s insane ability to never say no to someone. When Roy had fallen into severe depression and then drugs, Dick had all but run away for a few weeks to make sure he wasn't alone. Roy was too ashamed to face Ollie and Dinah so Dick had gotten them a hotel room in Gotham and stayed with him through all the cold sweats, drug-fueled detox rages, and more. Now here was Roy, leaving his daughter with days' notice to go across the world and fight the world’s most dangerous mercenary for Dick, even if that meant saving Dick from himself and not just Wilson. Roy would know more than anyone, the kind of tough but consistent love that was needed to save a friend from themselves.

“If you don’t stop trying to burn a hole through my head I’m gonna fuckin’ come over there and close your eyes myself, West”

Wally blinked, not realizing that he’d started daydreaming in Jason’s direction. His face heated but he wasn’t about to admit it or apologize. 

“Give it a break Jason” Roy sighed, “We’re all high strung and Wally won’t admit that it’s a blow to our ego that you guys found Dick’s location first”

Jason grunted, dragging his glare from Wally back to his phone, but Roy and Jason had always been closer despite the age gap. Dick had introduced them but their ‘rough around the edge' type personalities had made them an easy pair. They butted heads but more times than not, they sided with one another and had the same dark humor or angsty opinions. Wally was about to snap at Roy for fighting his battles for him when Kaldur knocked on the side of the jet door, “Hello, everybody” he greeted with a small smile.

Wally and Artemis grinned, standing up. Kaldur had spent most of the year in Atlantis and wore traditional warrior regalia, slim fitted to his chest and allowing the gills on his neck to breathe. His bleached hair had also been buzzed to his scalp, reminding Wally of how much Dick might prefer longer hair when this was all over. While Wally wanted his friend to be able to assist on the rescue mission for Rob, he was also grateful that such a calming presence would be on such a volatile tense mission. Wally wouldn’t describe himself as aggressive but it had easily been a handful of years since he had gotten on with anyone besides his aunt, uncle, best friend, and girlfriend. 

Wally greeted his old team leader with a one-armed, tight hug, “Hey man” he beamed, clasping the ivory-skinned hero on the shoulder. Kaldur smiled, never one to show his teeth, and turned to Artemis and Roy, offering the same greeting.

Jason stayed seated but Tim hopped up to say hello, “Thanks again dude,” he said. Kaldur chose a lone seat and dropped his bag into it, waving Tim off, “Nonsense. I should have been here to assist when Nightwing first came home”

Tim smiled awkwardly and Wally internally rejoiced. Tim would either have to acknowledge that having more heroes around would have made a difference, which is why Wally had been so insistent on being present in the manor when he could, or he’d have to brush it off and acknowledge that this was inevitable, which no one was prepared to agree with.

“It’s been a tough year that’s for sure, but Jason and I are confident that we’ve tracked him enough to predict where he’ll be this time. It lines up with Batman’s data as well”

Kaldur nodded as he spied Jason in the back, “I am regretful to admit that Robi-Nightwing’s location hasn’t been my number 1 priority in the last few years, but I haven’t made any substantial headway when I could reach out to connections of my own, or the King’s”

Tim shrugged, “What matters is that we’re all here now”

Jason snorted in the background, “What connections? Fish?”

A snide huff sounded from the front of the plane as Batman made himself known. Wally glared venomously at Damian as he smirked with Jason from beside the Dark Knight.

“Indeed” Kaldur confirmed, taking no offense, “My King had a vast network of dolphins and other migrating sea mammals that are able to collect vast swaths of information throughout their international migration patterns. Most often we ask dolphins, killer whales, manatees, and bass as they can travel the furthest and are more widely accepted by human tourists”

Batman didn’t greet Kaldur as he interjected, “But you heard something?”

Kaldur dipped his head respectfully, “Not much. After Tim sent me over a vague outline of the map he’s made, recounting Wing’s footsteps, I realized that what had been reported to us was barely more than a quarter of the activity you have collected”

“So there is a large chance that they’ve spent more time than we realized inland” Batman mused. Jason rolled his eyes.

Kaldur nodded, “That has been the assumption in most searches we partake in. Word travels fast and far so if it doesn’t ever reach the shores or my brethren, then the suspects are most likely deep inland and secluded”

“We can worry about that later,” Damian said, “Where Deathstroke has kept Richard is not our primary concern, his security and safety is”

“We know brat, Batsy just can’t get his rocks off without looking like he’s got plan A through Z prepared over here”

Batman’s lips thinned but he didn’t respond. Wally had noticed that Batman was purposefully not replying directly to Jason and he wondered if something had gone down without anybody else knowing. Wally knew that Tim and Damian lived at the Manor still, although there was a separate apartment under a John Gillens that Wally had seen an ID for in Tim’s belongings before. Everyone knew that Jason ‘rebellious’ Todd had moved out after Dick died when they were all still teenagers. Wally wouldn't be surprised if it was a fully furnished and paid-for apartment by Wayne Ent. but their behavior at the moment was still offputting.

Are they really going to try and coexist on a rescue mission together without ever directly interacting? Weirdest silent treatment ever.

The night before he, Artemis, and Roy had packed and made their way to Gotham, Wally had pitched the idea of formulating a backup plan that the 3 of them could fall back on if Batman and all the previous Robins managed to fumble Dick’s rescue mission. Wally would be the first to acknowledge, but not point out, Dick’s unhealthy reliance on Bruce and people like Jason, but it was obvious that most missions that went south and ended successfully, only did so because Dick had an insane inane knack for becoming the pure definition of adaptability. 

Needed someone to dress up as a distraction? Dick would fit into the jacket or dress.

Needed someone to pretend to be in distress? Dick would throw himself off a building without checking if his grappling hook worked.

Needed someone to stay behind and set off the explosion? Dick would make it out with a sooty smile.

“Ok,” Tim announced, snapping Wally out of his angsty daydream. He realized that Batman and Robin were much closer and that Kaldur had taken a seat close to them, making it look like he’d totally spaced out during their conversation; which he did. 

“Everyone saw what I sent over?” Tim asked. He received a few nods and murmurs. “It’s a little under a 5-hour flight, so we should review again so we all know where we’re going to be placed and when we expect to run into Dick and Slade”

“I’m not doing anymore fucking homework, replacement” Jason sighed.

Wally took his seat as the plane’s manuals started up, warming the engine and doing a pre-flight checklist before Batman actually took the controls and steering. Tim’s nostrils flexed like he was trying not to clench every muscle in his face, “Jason’s with me, and Kaldur and Damian’s with Bruce” Tim pointed behind him, “Artemis, Roy, and Wally are together”

Wally knew what was coming next and didn’t like it one bit, “We’re infiltrating in separate groups to avoid suspicion and association. We need to make it obvious we are all wealthy Americans, or at least Westerners, to get her to keep up a conversation. Each team will have a bug and a tracker” Tim held up a small plastic deceive that was zip-tied to a flat plastic disk on the side of the tip of his finger, “We need to get this on her person somehow to make sure that the few moments we aren’t with her doesn’t open a window for Deathstroke”

Kaldur shifted in his seat, “We are going to shadow her until Wilson shows himself?”

Tim shook his head, “We’re just doing that for the first day of this tech event. It's at this big event center so she’ll be back for the next few days, but we want to shadow her until we can spot Dick or Wilson. As soon as we have eyes on both targets, we need to get De Longe and her husband away and then separate Dick and Wilson”

Tim held up a small blue glass capsule, twice as big as a regular pill. He turned to Kaldur as everyone in the rooms was familiar with the chilling bright blue liquid already, “I’ll make sure everybody has a handful of these on them too, but these are our plan A essentially”

Kaldur took the example casing and examined it with a furrowed brow.

“The technical name is too long, we’ve been calling it cryo liquid. It’s the only thing we have that can take down a Talon like a normal person”

Wally’s insides squirmed at hearing Tim describe the best defensive measures against a talon-like it wasn’t for the purposes of subduing Dick. Everyone else’s faces showed the same sentiment.

“There’s more info in the brief that I plan to put together but to be brief, Dick can generate electrum which is the source of his regenerative healing and enhanced physicalness. It’s 4 times as hot and 10 times as fast as the average human’s red blood cell stream so this freezes his electrum along the red blood and white blood cell pathways in his veins and arteries. Each capsule has enough to sedate and slow him without it being too painful but” he looked unable to keep the conflicted expression off his face, “I think we should all move forward with the understanding that as long as it sedates him and puts him down for a little while, we should use as much as possible”

Kaldur passed the capsule back, “And this will only hurt, not kill, correct?”

Tim nodded, he opened his mouth for further explanation before he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, “Correct” he settled for.

“We’ll be staying across the street in a hotel under one of Jason’s aliases because he’s been to the UK the least out of all of us, but I want everyone to dig through the back cargo and find some sort of disguise”

Tim nodded to the back where most of the walls doubled as containers and storage for weapons and medical supplies, “There are additional clothes, colored contacts, hair dye, and face plaster” Batman said quietly.

Tim nodded, “At the very least, everyone's eyes should be a different color but I think we should be extreme considering the circumstances. I’m dying my hair and using the face plaster on my nose”

Everyone nodded and Tim looked conflicted, “Are we ready Bruce?”

Bruce nodded, making his way back to the pilot cabin, but keeping the door open to listen in. Tim sighed, “Lastly, when we find Dick and Deathstroke, I know I already said we would need to separate the 2 of them and sedate Dick but I want to make it clear that we need to efficiently separate them. That doesn’t mean throwing all of our firepower at Wilson and making a big scene. He’s a professional. He’s used to making these situations work in his favor”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Roy asked, leaning forward with a grumpy expression.

“Whichever team finds Dick, needs to notify everyone asap. Then, we split up again. I want Damian and Wally to move Dick to the ship as quickly as possible. I want everyone else on Slade, defensively” Tim pressed, “We’re slowing him down, not actually fighting him. It’s too dangerous. Wilson has a strict code that works against each of us and he’s a killer for hire. Artemis, I want you posing as security for De Longe. It’s not our main goal, but if you can trick her on board, we’ll be able to learn a lot about the Court from questioning her”

Artemis nodded firmly, sweeping her ponytail behind her shoulder. Wally was glad he hadn’t spoken up and protested like he wanted to. Tim hadn’t included that last bit in the briefing he shared, but Wally was glad to be assigned to Dick’s safety too. He could speed him and Damian away quickly and ensure he’s on board and safe.

“Megan will be helping us to monitor any incoming reinforcements like police too, so we may have a slightly larger wiggle room than I planned for”

“Why can't we use this shit on Deathstroke?” Roy asked, gesturing to what Tim held.

“It’s too much of a risk. Their enhanced abilities are too different-”

Tim’s gaze was jumping from each and every person but as his sight connected with Jason, the older boy’s gaze narrowed and Tim’s voice caught. He recovered well and fast, pretending he was swallowing between words, but Wally knew that Tim was either lying or bringing up something that pissed Jason off. He’d be sure to find out.

“So we don’t know if shooting Deathstroke full of this will do anything. It might be a waste and then we’ve gone and lost our whole supply and only made him angier”

“Shooting him would make me feel better” Roy grumbled.

 

Chapter 5

Notes:

Hey there! here's the next ch. Finally some slade and dick action too lol. Let me know what you think!

Jason pulled down on his blazer lapels again, as if tugging at his clothing for the 15th time would make him look like less of a Princeton-born asshole. He sneered at himself and his dark eyes. Everyone had on varying shades of brown-colored contacts. Bruce said that brown eyes were the least distinctive and physiologically led to less memory retention in someone else’s mind. Ironically, everyone in their rag-tag group had either blue, hazel, or green eyes.

“Guess we’re all fucking special” Jason muttered, tugging at his sleeves. He’d been fitted in a white collared shirt, tan slacks, and a minimalistic blue blazer. Half the guys had watches with faces so large, it could pay off someone’s mortgage. Jason wouldn’t be surprised if Bruce Fucking Wayne had genuine Rolex watches for backup covert disguise plans in his jet.

“What?” Tim asked as he flitted around their hotel room, making sure everyone looked the part.

“Nothing” he snapped back. Bruce’s eyes caught his in his mirror by the bathroom before he glanced away angrily. He was angry but he had to reign it in or else everyone would vote that he get benched; it had happened before. He reached for his bag, which lay strewn at the foot of the overly tucked hotel bed, and pulled out the smallest pistol he’d brought.

Roy whistled, “New glock?” he and Kaldur had struggled and fussed the least, throwing their preppy outfits together and sitting down to watch everyone else fight for their lives against loafers and handkerchiefs. Jason smirked as he holstered it to the inside of his clothing, just beneath his underarm and snug against his ribcage. It would hurt like a bitch to fall on, but it was the best placement for a quick draw, “Naw, old Hellcat actually. Just haven’t had a good enough chance to use it. It’s too damn small for patrolling”

Tim shot them both a sharp look as they egged each other on with sly smiles and edging comments, “Jason. We’re trying to look upper class here. No guns”

“Tim” Jason mimicked back, “We are upper class”

“Jason” Tim snapped with more irritation.

“Tim” Bruce said, “Let him bring it. I’m not approving lethal techniques, but it’ll take more than a bullet to take down Dick or Wilson” he looked at Jason, “Those can hold the capsules, can’t they?”

Jason nodded, his expression unreadable. Bruce nodded, “Rely on those for sedation before bullets” he turned back towards the mirror to finish getting ready. Bruce had chosen a light hair dye, shading his hair noticeably lighter, but when Tim insisted he dye his eyebrows to match, Bruce had decided to just wash it out and add greying streaks, accentuating the fine lines and crow's feet in his face. Wally shared a look with Artemis while Damian shot a peculiar look at Jason. Jason brushed it off, ignoring everyone's stares. His clothing was too tight, his hair held too much gel, and his eyes itched, but as long as they had an unconscious, or willing, Dickhead stuffed in the plane within the week, it would all be worth it.

“Have Miss Martian or Superboy reported anything?” Kaldur asked. Tim shook his head as he handed Damian a small tub of gel. 

“Yes and no. They’re still busy at the Watchtower, but don’t think anyone is really on to us yet. It’s barely been a day so far” Kaldur nodded, “But she did say that she will be monitoring the airfields for any planes entering within the week and then try to match it to anything overlapping with the commercial and private air fly times leaving after”

“I’m surprised she has the skills to assist us” Damian commented, his tone bordering on snide.

Tim shrugged, “Barbara’s been teaching her a lot when patrol is slow”

Bruce made a disgruntled sound over the reminder that Barbara was holding down the fort on her own. It wasn't so much that it was Barbra that bothered Bruce, it was that it wasn’t Bruce.

“Jason, I swear to God if you rip something” Jason stopped his insistent tugging and fiddling with his clothing. Damian was getting off with colored contacts and a sweater vest. Artemis had also dyed his hair with darker sandy blonde highlights. She was dressed in a loosely tucked blouse with feminine slacks and small heeled boots but Jason felt the most out of place. Bruce looked like he was just attending a company board meeting luncheon. Tim checked his watch and closed his laptop company, sliding some batarangs, glass capsules, and extra comms into a laptop bag; looking the part of a nerd very well, “Everyone ready?” he asked. He didn’t actually look at them but scanned outside as if he would spot Deathstroke the Terminator, “Jason, Kaldur, and I are going to exit and cross the street first. Bruce and Damian are gonna follow about 5 minutes later and Artemis, Roy, and Wally are going to follow about 2 minutes behind from the side hotel exit, by the pool. Does everyone have their exhibit tickets?”

Damian nodded, sitting forward attentively and Jason rolled his eyes. Tim had given everyone event tickets for the entire week and every speaker, even though they’d only be attending one conference. He was convinced that buying out everything would further sell them as rich and upper-class investors.

“If anyone spots Dick or Wilson, they are to make themselves scarce but not lose sight of the target. Contact the rest of the team and we will move in with a distraction to separate De Longe, Wilson, and Dick” Bruce said seriously.

Tim nodded, “Right, but we aren’t expecting them this early. Wilson prefers covert methods and less hassle so they’ll most likely be waiting back at her room or while she’s out shopping between her husband speaking at these conferences” Tim added. Tim and Bruce had found a nice medium and Jason was surprised that about 3 weeks into planning and almost 2 days into their actual mission, he was still acting in a support role; letting Tim issue orders and decide their first steps. Bruce made his way past Dick’s teammates and fixed Damian’s appearance, wiping away the excess gel and straightening the vest over his ironed white shirt. He reached out and pulled a few stray hairs loose from Damian’s strict gelled hair hold. The lone strands fell across his forehead and Damian squawked in complaint but Bruce shushed him, “Trust me” he gave a small joking grin, “I’m used to looking too wealthy to be smart”. He wordlessly gave Damian a comm for his ear and made sure it was secure before moving on.

“I believe we are all ready,” Kaldur said, nodding to Tim but speaking to Bruce.

Jason rolled his eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Is this thing ever gonna fuckin’ start?” Jason complained under his breath. He and Tim were seated together with Kaldur in the 3rd row. Tim had, unfortunately, made all the right decisions concerning their appearances and the 3 of them fit in seamlessly. Most of the people around them were dressed as Jason would’ve imagined at a TedTalk or an iPhone expo: nerds.

The only difference between people was their accessories, which explained why Tim wanted everyone in polished loafers, heels, Gucci purses, and with Rolexes on their wrists.  Jason wasn’t sure where everyone else was situated but had spied extremely long dark blonde hair and Prada sunglasses on the far right of the auditorium. 

“Remember” Tim whispered, keeping his head turned forward, “If anyone asks, we’re new money Americans looking to invest in Western European brands”

“I thought our target was East Asian, Japanese. No?” Kaldur asked in a hushed voice.

“De Longe is Japanese but the AI brand her husband is launching is only certified and registered outside of East Asian countries. Too many taxes and branding fees so they’re starting in Western Europe. Cheaper I guess”

Jason looked around while the large room of ascending seats filled with people eager to get a glimpse of the rumored AI Retro. Jason had heard some women behind him talking about an afterparty where stock options and investment portfolios would be offered to VIP customers before they went public early next year. Jason had nudged Tim, jerking his eyes in their direction and Tim had gone to the bathroom after some short eavesdropping. Letting them know to try and get invited to this private afterparty. If nothing more, it would allow them more time to privately shadow the De Longes while they scanned for their real targets.

“Don’t make it obvious, but make sure they know you’ve got money if you get a chance to speak with them”

“Copy” Bruce and Wally responded back from their respective teams.

“Hello everybody!” suddenly a loud invisible announcer exclaimed. Jason almost dropped his head backward in relief, “Thank god it’s starting”. Tim nudged him sharply, “Sit up. At least try to look interested”

Jason shot him a dark look, “This is me trying” he hissed. The female announcer thanked a few people who helped fund the event and then announced that Huang De Longe and his wife Song De Longe. They both stepped out from the right side of the stage. Big pearly grins for the crowd’s pleasure. De Longe’s husband looked like a total Iphone asshole, in Jason's opinion. He was dressed nicely, but loosely enough, to claim to be chill. He had a small mic taped to his cheek so he could wave his hands and point to how much customers would be selling their souls for. He was average height and plain looking with a haircut that looked 5 years too young for him. His wife held an ethereal glow that Jason sometimes saw in Jade; though he’d never admit to Roy to finding her sharpness seductive at times. She was tall and slender, wearing dark calf slacks and a tucked white blouse.

The lights dimmed as a large screen dropped behind the couple dropped. Huang De Longe quickly took over after thanking his wife for being by his side and supporting him as his rock through the acquisition and development years of this revolutionary AI. He explained that while it’s being trademarked and credited for general store phones and consumer purposes, he was already able to see how much more potential it had beyond that. Apparently, the AI’s biggest draw was its rapid adaptability. It would be able to see purchases that weren’t yours based on patterned buys in the past and let you know seconds after the card had been swiped. It would be able to tell that if you were out at 2 am and had purchased a certain amount of alcoholic beverages, it would be best to automatically offer you quick and easy Uber rides from your phone. Every draw of your phone knowing what would be best, in the moment and why came, with the necessary warnings and information labels that privacy was his number one concern, and that you could filter and limit the AI’s functionality as much or as little as you wanted. He made a big fuss about how they won't be collecting consumer data for any type of reporting purposes and that it will automatically come with all iPhones and androids, hopefully, more in the future. Jason could see this easily being used in the military of other governments to not only keep behavioral and patterned tabs on civilians and the market, but to also predict future behavioral decisions and expectations for anyone on unfavorable watchlists. 

He leaned over to Tim but the shorter boy moved away. Jason narrowed his eyes and shot a sharp, offended look. Tim was facing forward and side-eying him as much as possible. He typed his thigh where his phone was stored and Jason rolled his eyes. The replacement probably thinks everyone can hear us now that the stands are full and the main event speakers are here. 

To humor the replacement, Jason pulled out his phone and dimmed the screen’s light considerably. He opened their private messenger app, made available by Lucious after hearing how rambunctious Bruce’s boys were. It was only accessible by someone plugging their phone into the source code on a laptop and downloading it to sync with their cell number. It wasn’t offered on the public app store which made cracking or hacking the electronic VIN or data crumb trail 10 times as hard.

“Are we sure that the husband isn’t in on this shit?”

Tim pulled his phone out and Jason felt his hackles lower over being ignored.

“No”

Jason rolled his eyes, “So who's to say he isn’t the mastermind? I know you found the wife’s name of the dead bitch’s stuff but if this is his shit….”

Tim typed something and deleted it a few times, “I know. I’m on the same page. Bruce is too. This stuff can already touch on too much surveillance and model prediction tech”

Jason double-tapped the message to show his agreement.

“I think we need to consider that he is doing the heavy lifting and his wife is the pretty face at dealings”

“Dealings?”

“Jason. Don’t b dumb” Tim was getting frustrated and letting his inner teenager make typos, “We know Cobb is connected and funded by Luthor, so basically the light. We know De Longe is with him at the top of the Court, kinda. It's a really obvious trail back to the Light in every sense, so I think we need to talk about what to do if they’re already using this and just trying to get the public to passively download it into their households and bank accounts for whatever they’re planning”

Jason agreed but he hadn’t thought out such a horrid plan B. He double-tapped the long message and Tim sighed as they put their phones away. Tim took his out after a minute and passed it to Kaldur upside down to let their other team member stay up to date. This would be way easier with Megan, Jason thought. The Martian was just as, if not more, powerful than her uncle, a long-time JL member, but as far as Jason could tell, the girl had issues. She suffered from both alien and human mental afflictions like anxiety and had trouble fitting in and being decisive. You definitely could not afford to be indecisive and wear a cape. That’s how everyone gets killed in the field. Last Jason had heard, the League had configured some sort of small headpiece so Megan could reach this far, telepathically, but the League would be on them in seconds if she touched that tech without a good reason.

Jason wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he found an odd fascination in how Dick’s supposed rescue mission was coming together. Dick’s old friends and former teammates were so egotistical and self-confident that they mostly assumed fault in Jason and his brothers for Dick’s disappearance. Wally was the only one to say it out loud and so bluntly, but Jason knew that Artemis and the others thought it, Roy probably a little as well. They were resistant to a mission not led by them for the sake of Dick, but in the end, Dickie Grayson was everybody’s personal ray of sunshine and pulled loyalty and acts of bravery from his friends, no matter how strenuous. 

Jason rolled his shoulders and made himself comfortable for the remainder of the 2-hour speech that felt much more like a pitch. As soon as the event ended, Tim was leaning forward on the edge of his seat, “Come on” he whispered to Jason and Kaldur, “They’ll only humor a certain amount of post-badgering and questions and we need to get closer”

Kaldur nodded, standing up and fixing his shirt in a very disinterested way that had Jason questioning what kind of wealth the apprentice to the King of Atlantis was used to. Tim led the way, looking back at Jason and Kaldur to make superficial remarks and statements about the expo and AI in general. Jason could see how tense and tight Tim’s neck and shoulders were, accentuating his too-sharp jaw, but he was impressed by the subtle nuances the replacement was managing despite that. They managed to get closer quite quickly and catch Huang De Longe’s attention. He did a double take as he was patting an exiting attendee on the shoulder, “Oh! My. Wayne, I had no idea you’d be attending the UK Tech Expo this year” Huang flashed a charming smile at Tim who jolted in surprise.

“Oh, um I’m so sorry you have me mistaken” Tim chuckled and Jason had to resist the urge to roll his eyes over how Tim’s facade broke down in mere moments. He’d only changed his eye color, opting away from any face alterations after all, because it might be more of a hindrance if things got violent or physical.

Huang cocked his head, “You aren’t Timothy Wayne?” he glanced at Kaldur and Jason.

“Oh, um no I’m so sorry. That is my cousin. Tim was hoping to attend but wasn’t able to after so I thought I’d bring my associates in his stead. We were already interested in a few unveilings; yours included”

Huang blinked in surprise but it seemed muted. Jason wouldn’t be surprised if Tim’s lie had caught him off guard. Everyone who was anyone in the western upper class knew that the Wayne boys were all orphans.

“I’m so sorry to hear Mr. Wayne was caught up. Do you also work for Wayne Enterprises?” he finally reached out a hand. 

Tim grasped it firmly and offered a single friendly shake, “Yes, I work closely with Bruce and the others. They’ve been following your public release updates and more”

Huang beamed, taking that to mean that Tim was a relative on Bruce Wayne’s side, which was a slightly more believable lie, “I’m flattered, truly. Mr. Wayne is no doubt a busy man, understandably, but I’d love to give him a close-up tour of most of our software and planned programming release schedules, if he’d be interested?”

Huang added the last part as if it would be odd that Brucie Wayne wouldn’t want some VIP treatment to a new tech release. Tim smiled, “Thank you, that’s actually why we’re here” he motioned to Kaldur and Jason, “Mr. Wayne is very busy so I can’t speak for his schedule, but I know he’ll be investing” Tim leaned in slightly as if they were old friends, “It’s really just a matter of how much and how soon”

Huang smiled and nodded understandingly, “Of course, of course. Well, if you’d like to learn more. We are having a few after-gatherings while myself and the wife are in town for the event. We only have 1 more speaking engagement planned but later tonight we are hosting a bit of a VIP, investor soiree upstairs. Back tie”

Tim smiled and nodded, “Wonderful. I think that works well” he gleaned at Jason as if to confirm that it wouldn’t conflict with their very busy and very fake schedule. Jason nodded and slipped one hand into his pressed slacks pocket, “We’ll be there. Bruce had a few things he wanted answers to before wiring anything over”

Huang beamed at Jason before looking back to Tim, “Wonderful. I’ll introduce you tonight and you can learn more before Wayne Enterprises decides how deep they’d like to support at the ground level”

Tim nodded and checked his watch, “Sounds great, 8?”

Huang nodded as someone over Tim’s shoulder caught his attention, “Please excuse me. My wife and I look forward to seeing you all tonight”

They were herded out with the crowd to the main lobby where the cheaper vendors were located. Jason nudged Tim, stepping in close, “That was too easy” he murmured. Tim nodded, keeping his head tilted forward. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Can you hear me?” Bruce’s voice came across their micro comms. Tim slipped one hand into his pocket and clicked once, “Good”

Bruce had become paranoid after Huang De Longe had instantly recognized Tim as a Wayne. Everyone but Bruce had been out of the spotlight in Gotham for a few years now so unless they were being watched or had a secret fan on their hands, Huang shouldn’t have known Tim so quickly.

“I think he knew we were coming and slipped,” Bruce said to the room as they were getting ready with a change of clothes and new cologne, mussing their hair slightly to look like they’d spent the day out and about.

“I would agree but we need to consider how realistic this is too,” Tim said as he buttoned up a new white shirt, adding a simple tie this time, “I've spent a lot of time with you at corporate”

Bruce shook his head, not convinced, “Not recently. He invited you too quickly as well. I’m a weapons and tech manufacturer, not a tech investor”

Tim shrugged, “We’ll be on guard, but there’s a chance he saw us and just thought we’d be an easy bag. You know how we come across to the public, Bruce”

Jason was leaning against the bathroom door frame, “He didn’t look like he bought the cover-up, but he hid his tells well, if he had any. It felt like he just saw us for our net worths”

Bruce frowned, unappeased, “Wear the smaller comms and watch what you say”

Tim gave Bruce a dumb look.

“To me, Tim”

Tim nodded.

“I’ll be checking in and monitoring every second of the way, but I don’t think it’s safe to have you responding to me for updates or anything” he handed a small case to Kaldur who took out a small translucent paper and passed the case to Jason, “Put these on your pointer finger and thumb”

Kaldur’s expression showed surprise as he peeled off 2 small ovals from the paper, “These will be synced with your regular heartbeat and will act as a sensitive touch pad for light taps” Bruce explained.

Jason wiggled his paper with an unimpressed look, “This feels like overkill. You want us to tap our fingers in morse code instead of whispering back to you? We won’t look suspicious, we’ll just look like freaks”

Bruce ignored him, “This will be much easier to communicate with for simple answers and updates. every time you tap your fingers together I’ll be able to see it here” He turned around Tim’s laptop to show a screen with 5 squares, 3 of them titled after Jason, Kaldur, and Tim, “1 for yes, 2 for no, and to signal an sos or emergency, smash your fingers together with as much pressure as you can. It’ll trigger a warning on my screen when the macro sensory pads are overloaded with weight for too long”

Tim gently laid the first wafer-like sticky paper on his thumb and watched in astonishment as it meld to his skin like wet rice paper. He was about to ask after handshakes and if people could feel them, but Tim couldn’t even see it on his own thumb at the moment.

“It stays well, but don’t mess with it” Bruce watched Jason with narrowed eyes, “It comes off with your nails easy enough”

Kaldur looked the most impressed, turning his finger to different angles under the light to see if he could catch any evidential proof of technology imbued on his finger. Damian was furious and petulant. His disgruntled expression almost matched Wally’s, “I should be coming. Richard responds well to me” he said.

Jason was milliseconds away from snapping, “ Really? Because the last interaction you had with him in 2 years was a concussion” He bit the side of his tongue to restrict the words. Wally was beside Artemis, never far from the blonde archer in the last few years, but he didn’t argue. Jason could see it on his face. He was upset that their group hadn’t gotten the invite first and was upset by how much it made sense for Tim, Jason, and Kaldur to go. Out of all of them, Tim had already been recognized so suspicion would work against them if he didn’t go, Jason was always a strong factor to have in covert or teamwork missions, and Kaldur’s manipulation of water would be an asset in a room full of chamagne and ice sculptures, if they had to resort to their least favorite plans.

Bruce was obviously not happy that he wasn’t able to attend either but Jason suspected that he was glad that everyone seemed to have accepted him as the default mission lead since Tim would be out in the field and under the limelight. He’d be issuing orders and monitoring their group of 3 when they re-entered the party in a little under an hour. Until they caught sight of anyone suspicious or someone who made their plans change, Bruce had ordered half the group to monitor and be prepared to fall back on Tim’s last orders. Artemis would be watching from the roof on her own to make sure she wasn’t far from the De Longes, and Wally would be circling the perimeter every few minutes to make sure no one suspicious was outside. The rest would be waiting for a signal from Tim, Jason, and Kaldur, or for confirmation that the night had ended cleanly and they could all retire at the hotel and and wait for Slade’s inevitable presence. 

Artemis checked her phone, “You guys need to get going. It’s verging on too late, even for 'rich asshole fashionably late'”

Jason smirked, “Well, I am all those things. It would be appropriate”

Damian scoffed, ushering them out, “Father is wealthy, you Todd, are not ”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“I see them both,” Kaldur said as he accepted a glass of champagne. His silver cuff-links glistened against all the reflective surfaces of the room. It was an overly large grande ballroom they’d found themselves in, when escorted past the public hallways. Tim nodded but didn’t respond. They were all dressed to impress. Tim’s hair was combed and slicked down and Jason had allowed Artemis to give his hair a light fluffing of gel. Tim and Kaldur were dressed similarly in dark suits with thin straight ties-Jason had escaped without one, to which he was grateful for. Huang and Song De Longe were across the room, speaking to separate groups of elitists. The fashion sense in the room made it obvious that there were very few Americans present. Most of the silks, cashmere, cervelat, and leather made it obvious that a majority of the investors and supporters present for this VIP cocktail party were Italian, French, English, and Spanish.

Their group noticed the difference in style quickly because Tim leaned into Jason’s side, under the guise of reaching for another drink, “If you drop one cuss word, I’ll skin you, dude”

Jason rolled his eyes but agreed. He’d heard enough of himself at trials, hearings, cam recorders, and interrogations to know that anger, drinking, and cussing brought out his southside Gotham accent more than anything.

“I suggest we mingle first. We can try to see if anything of interest is being spoken about” Kaldur suggested under his breath, his thin stemmed glass ghosting his lips. Tim nodded, “Together might seem weird, but I don’t want us splitting up”

“I agree and sympathize but we must also test if our hosts were made aware of us attending as soon as we got here. They most likely want us to approach them, but to wait it out and seem oblivious will tell us how they react to power plays”

Jason almost looked at Kaldur in shock. Dick’s old team relied on Robin for most of Young Justice’s success. Whether it was from social cues, acceptance, skill training, adaptation, or more, Robin taught the team almost as much as Black Canary and Batman, but Kladur’s words just now proved to Jason how much he overlooked Dick’s teammates when Dick wasn’t involved. He assumed that most caved in on themselves and fell apart, like Wally, but Jason shouldn’t be surprised that there were more capes like Roy, who threw themselves head first into their heritage and community to balance the grief of Dick’s death. Apparently, Kaldur had done much more than stand guard in the royal palace of Atlantis. Tim nodded, his jaw clenching before he took a deep breath and rolled back his shoulders for a straighter spine. He still looked hesitant because he looked to be scanning their surroundings, looking for the best person to approach to start a conversation. Jason rolled his eyes and did the work for Tim, splitting off first.

He made his way over to the bar and abandoned his drink, holding up a single finger to grab the bartender’s attention. A well-dressed man with a thick mustache approached. He wiped his clean hands on an untouched towel and threw it over his shoulder, “What can I put together for you, sir?”

Jason didn’t spare him a glance, “Tom Collins”

He heard the man depart to make his drink and Jason pulled out a pack of Marlboro black. Marlboro wasn’t made with black paper, unless you knew the right person. As soon as he pulled out a stick, he tapped it a few times like he was bored. The man beside him eyed him out of the corner of his eye but as soon as the bartender returned with his drink he said, “Sir, I must inform you there is no smoking unless you’d like to continue so on the balcony” the man gestured to large double doors that led to a balcony extension almost as a large as a college apartment. Jason didn’t respond, taking the drink with a single uninterested glance. The bartender walked away, knowing that it wasn’t his job to actually make people, whose worth was millions more than his life was worth, fall in line with rules that nobody truly cared about.

After their interaction, Jason sensed the man shift subtly in his direction, and he knew he’d snagged his interest by treating the bartender so carelessly. It was like this in any shit circle of life, the less respect you offered someone, the more important people assumed you to be. “Collins can be a bit of a strong drink, you don’t look too old” the man offered. His tone was just slight enough to not be offensive but rather curious. Jason smirked and tilted his head to the left from where he was leaning against the bar’s edge. He was in a simple suit like Jason but his features were very exotic. His skin was dark and soft, similar to Kaldur but his sable hair was so velvet and soft looking, that the lights above left a literal sheen of glistening light across his hair. Hi, tresses were pulled back in tight scalp braids and styled into a low bun. He was sipping some sort of whiskey.

“Neither do you” Jason returned cooly.

The man chuckled, “Benefits of Asian descent” he said with a shrug, “Takes a lot less moisturizer for me” he said with a charming smile, “I see you’re with Wayne” he said, glancing away as some new stepped up to the bar. 

Going right for the throat, huh? Jason thought.

“You saw?”

The man nodded, “Saw, heard. Can’t escape much when you’re money and a big name”

Jason smiled ruefully, “Now that makes me curious as to how you got your invite”

The man popped a single eyebrow at Jason in question, “Everyone who is money has the name to go along with it. If not, well then they’re not any better than those side pieces that hung off our dad at every business trip dearest mommy didn't go on, am I right?”

The man’s eyes gleamed with the realization that Jason was calling him out for his slip, that he was either here uninvited or was here with someone who had actually been invited, “You got me. My uncle's company owns the arena that’s hosting the De Longe’s this week. They invited us knowing we wouldn't actually take them up on their offer but-”

“But you wanted to call them out for being rich pricks who offer goodies to the poor when we all know it won’t happen”

The man smiled, slightly more genuine, “I mean no offense, but I thought we were more along the same lines when you showed up. Rumor was it that Wayne has some cousin’s love child who’s coming on his behalf?”

Jason made a clarifying Ahhhh face, “Yeah. To be honest I’m just here as pretty protection”

The man barked out a quiet laugh, “Oh really?”

Jason shrugged and took a siped, “Yeah, I mean when have you ever seen these rich blokes hire ugly manpower”

The man tipped his head, “You’re on to something” he laughed.

Jason grinned, on the verge of asking what he’d heard about their little celebrity guest...AKA Tim, “Yeah, It’s just Mark and-”

Jason stopped short. He gripped his cup tighter and had to retrain himself from busting the thing to shards as he realized that Huang De Longe had never asked for Tim’s name. He’s assumed he was Timmy Wayne but when Tim corrected him, the man had never actually asked his name. He never believed us one bit, Jason realized. They’d just walked into an enormous trap. He heard the man beside him ask what he was bout to say but Jason couldn’t hear him over the rising dread. He scanned the crowd, instantly finding Kaldur amongst them. Kaldur locked eyes with him and felt his anxiety in seconds. Kaldur’s eyes widened briefly and despite being in conversation with 2 Spanish men, he sharply jerked his eyes to the left. Jason followed and spotted Tim, beside a woman. Behind them, Huang De Longe approached like the shark from Finding Nemo; after he smelled blood.

“Excuse me,” Jason said as he abandoned his drink and his 2-minute companion. He quickly crossed the room in record time, “Mark” Jason said firmly, drawing Tim’s eyes up. Bruce had 2 cousins named Ammicus so hopefully, they could sell this as a nickname for that. Tim nodded, “Yes?” he saw the way Jason’s eyes darted over his shoulder and turned just in time to meet Song’s husband. He approached with a serene smile that complimented the focused nature of his eyes, “Mr. Wayne” he greeted, “I’m so glad you could join us tonight” he held out a hand and Tim took it.

“Glad we could make it, after all, Bruce was glad to hear of some of this week’s reveals and announcements”

Jason smirked internally as Tim threatened him with real-time contact with Bruce Wayne.

“I’m sure he’ll be even more pleased after tonight” he looked over with a pleasant nod as Kaldur joined them, “I’m terribly sorry. I never got your companions' names?” he said, not offering his hand this time around. You didn’t get any of our names, Jason thought darkly.

Tim waved a hand, “No worries, I’m sure it’s been a very busy tour for you and your wife. This is Ted” he gestured to Jason, “and Ken. They've been longtime friends who also dabble to private security so Bruce suggested they come along for the trip as well”

Huang peaked an eyebrow and a small smile, “Ted and Ken? I’m terribly sorry, I’ve never seen 2 more ill-fitted for a name”

Kaldur’s face was stony when he replied, “I find that most people find it hard to pronounce my genuine name so I’ve made it…easier for others who are less familiar with such diverse ethnicity”

Jason, for the millionth time, was dumbfounded as Kaldur not only supplied an answer with a question, but insulted a man by implying he was too dumb to pronounce not white names or places, especially when such a man was from East Asia. Dick’s old teammate had grown into a different sort of man, but his deep smooth voice and the way he naturally held his shoulders down and back, offered a known presence of authority, no matter who the host was. He bit the inside of his lip to keep his smile contained. 

Huang’s nose twitched, “Well, if it’s not too much trouble I’d love to hear more about yourself and your family name sometime. I am a very well-traveled man and heritage is gravely important to myself and my family”

He turned back to Tim without giving Kaldur the chance to respond, “You must forgive me for allowing you to wait Mr. Wayne. I have so many international guests here for the very same purpose as yourself”

Tim smiled, his expression tight ever since Jason had greeted him with his fake name. Every few seconds, Jason could make out the slight quiver beside his eyes as he fought to keep a pleasant, but not overly joyful expression. Bruce hadn’t messaged them or said anything over the comms since they’d entered so he could only picture the old man and their remaining backup watching their cameras and building layout maps with bated breaths of anticipation. Bruce no doubt, had caught the slip as soon as Jason did and the old man was probably cursing himself for not being the first one to see this slip. They were all too excited to have gotten further extended access to the De Longes and without any hassle from Deathstroke.

Jason took a deep breath, trying not to highlight how the pounding of his heart was getting quicker and more ferocious. His thoughts wouldn’t stop whirling and making connections that hadn’t been proven yet. He often hated the Bat for everything, but his skills learned while at Wayne Manor, but Jason despised the old man for instilling the need to possibly think of every possible connection or causation. Deathstroke was known to take contacts and jobs from Luthor and Vandal Savage quite often, even from Queen Bee sometimes. If the Light was really profiting and orchestrating from everything the Court and Cobb had caused then who's to say that the De Longes, in association with the Light,  hadn’t planned a trap for Deathstroke to get the jump on prey for himself and Dick at once.

Tim dismissed Huang with a cool, casual smile, “Think nothing of it. It's been a pleasure to reacquaint myself with many faces I've seen at Bruce’s galas in the past”

Huang smiled before he seemed to remember something. Jason chanced a glance backward towards the bar, hoping the man wasn’t watching them after Jason’s hasty departure, but found the man’s spot empty, save for his and Jason’s glasses, “Please let me introduce you to my wife, and another gentleman, a young investor I think you’ll find reliable comradery in if your interests are as true as you say and not just encouraged by Wr. Wayne" he offered a look that was supposed to be joking but came off as leering. Jason looked back in time to see Huang De Longe gesturing for someone in the busy crowd. Jason seethed, feeling like they were being played or forced to wait. He saw glimpses of soft white as Song De Longe emerged from the crowd with the companion she’d been speaking with. She was dressed in a floor-length slim-cut white and cream dress. Lace covered her breasts and hips in traditional Chinese and Japanese flowers and symbols. Her hair was tied back in a clean tight bun as she glowed with a youthfulness that spoke of a facecare regimen that took at least an hour and was amde from at least 1 endangered species. 

“My dear” he greeted with a charming, blase smile. Song smiled in greeting, and Jason wasn’t surprised to see that there were no existing smile or frown lines to find on the woman’s forehead or cheeks. She dipped her head as she looked to Tim, “Hello Mr Wayne, it’s an honor to have you here. I’ve heard much about you from acquaintances and friends alike. I hope you have enjoyed yourself, thus far?”

Tim smiled and dipped his head, “Incredibly well, thank you for having us. I loved yesterday’s exhibit and am looking forward to having even more to tell Bruce about after tonight”

Jason winced internally. Tim’s attempt to find out more info came off as an overly challenging inquiry. The De Longes smiled, “We will begin shortly, I assure you. It’s a much more in-depth presentation of this week’s public information, and a better explanation of our timeline and expectations in going public. We understand that much of the public is waiting for the chance to buy in but we know that much more well-rounded investors and enthusiasts, such as yourself, would appreciate the opportunity before the public" Jason had to refrain from rolling his eyes as it was becoming more and more of an urge with these people. Talking and acting so classist as if their pleasant smiles counteracted their degrading verbiage.

“Speaking of which” she turned to her companion who seemed to have lingered in passing conversation to those they had passed on the way to greet present company, “I’d love to acquaint you with Mr. Renel here. He’s interested in our future endeavors, much like yourself” she leaned in like they were old friends and lightly patted his chest in a way that looked like the attempt was motherly, “You are also some of the youngest men here so I find that us old souls become quite a bore at some point to you, yes?”

Tim smiled in a sweet humoring way but while his gaze was set on the 50-year-old woman who liked 25 Jason couldn’t contain the sharp breath as her companion turned to face them fully. Dick did a splendid job of acting the stranger as he stepped forward, promising to get someone his business card before he turned his full attention to the De Longes and who they were introducing him to. Jason never expected this. They were prepared for multiple scenarios of a captive or coerced Dick Grayson. They could've found him tied up at a base while Slade completed missions, or drugged and out of his mind, They were expecting Dick to be resistant to much of what Slade had been doing recently- so maybe he was forced to stay back at a distance to offer support or initiate the distraction they expected. But Dick looked ever the well-groomed, and fed playboy he was before the Court of Owls convinced themselves they owned a large stake in Dick Grayson.

Similarly to Damian and Jason, his dark hair was soft and slicked back, a few careless strands trying to escape. His bright blue eyes looked jovial and nothing like the crazed electric canary yellow that had assaulted Jason’s jaw and murdered a good portion of the League of Shadows. Even his frame and stature looked different, but the same, throwing Jason off guard more than his ego would like to permit.  He looked different from the sick Dick they had rescued, like all of the Court’s drugs had finished pumping themselves out of his system. His stature was tall, yes, but his broad frame and trim waist were reflective of a true acrobat, or at least someone who burned too many calories just by breathing. It was obvious that Dick was dressed in his dark suit in a purposeful way; sans tie and opened buttons and all. He was the epitome of what high society expected out of their young men.

“This is Mr. Renel,” Song said again as she smiled at the young man who towered over most heads, alongside Jason.

He smiled bashfully and rubbed his nape like he was embarrassed at yet another showy introduction, “Please, call me Will. I’ve heard you’re working with Wayne Enterprises closely?” he looked to Tim who Jason realized was stone still. He cursed mentally but knew that if he was in the spotlight and had just seen Dick, he would’ve fucked up their cover as well. Kaldur reached out a hand, “We are visiting on Mr. Wayne’s behalf. I’m terribly sorry, but Mark here brought me along to learn a bit more about this side of the business and the who’s who. Can I ask what you do Will?”

Tim blinked and straightened up with a mumbled apology. Dick grinned, “No worries. I’m acting VP for Legacy Tech. Solutions in England. We aren’t very name-brand or big right yet but we’re working behind the scenes to basically get in on the ground floor here-which is what we know will make headway in the Apple and Samsung world” he gave a polite nod to Huang. Mrs. De Longe chuckled in the high tone that was expected of a woman after flattery.

Dick turned back to Tim and Jason as if to include them in the conversation and not single them out, “I couldn’t escape the praise and media attention that Wayne Enterprises is stirring up with some of their new contracts” he said, “It’s taken Lex Corp by miles if I’m right...very surprised”

Tim grinned shakily, “Thank you, the business has been doing well recently that’s for sure. Bruce would have loved to be here himself but is so busy with overseeing the board and our international partners that he was unable to make it”

Dick nodded, “Of course, of course. I’m impressed, by all means. If you don’t mind me being so blunt but as someone who’s kept up with most of the refined tech world from afar, I would not have bet any high-yield savings account on today’s outcome. Bruce Wayne did much better for his family than one might’ve expected. It’s commendable”

Jason didn’t even have time to glare at the cheeky uppity joke about savings accounts, What?” he said at the same time Tim said, “Pardon?”

Dick blinked in a startled fashion like he was surprised at needing to be even blunt about such an apparently scandalous topic, “Well” he began, “I would hate to give you the impression that I’m one for salacious scandals but ever since Bruce Wayne’s eldest son passed, turmoil seems to be all we see nowadays” he offered Tim a pitying look, “But I am thrilled to see them souring to new heights once again”

Jason was glad he didn’t bring his drink over with him or else he surely would’ve choked and died on the spot. Was this their Dick? What was wrong with him? Shitting on his own family for looking like a complete disarray to the public after his own murder, which his family had to cover up as an accident. Jason steeled himself harder and buckled down. Dick is definitely under the influence , he told himself. There is no way Dick would ever hold trauma against his family when he knew what fighting those invisible scars looked like firsthand. Nothing he just said sounded like code and Bruce would have spoken in their ears if he had picked up anything from his word choice. 

Jason spread his lips into a false grin and gripped Tim by the shoulders as he battled the world’s first: Dick Grayson being malicious and anal, “Yes, it had been difficult for the Waynes but they're a rough around the edges bunch” he patted Tim on the shoulders as the younger boy tried to close his gaping mouth.

Dick smiled, “Yes of course. Mr. Wayne was orphaned at such an early age and then took in an immigrant boy from the circus, and a boy with multiple accounts on his record, headed for Juvenile Hall, if I heard right....all within the first 5 years or so. Quite impressive”

Jason caught himself from cracking Tim’s shoulder blades with his tightening grip as Dick used the word impressive for the millionth time. Dick looked to the De Longes, “I’m terribly sorry to rush our conversation but I won’t be in town for the whole week as I mentioned, and I would just love to speak further before I have to depart”

Song nodded, “Of course. Let me show you to the study”

Jason almost grabbed her on the spot, frantic to stop the obvious ploy to drag her away to her peril. Dick turned back to them with an apologetic grin, “You must forgive me, but I’m on a tight schedule for a week or 2. Barely managed to stop by for this wonderful event for a few days”

Kaldur tensed beside Jason. So Dick had been here for as long if not longer than them. Great, “You must forgive me but I’ll have my assistant, Ella, reach out to schedule some more time for us to talk. It was a pleasure speaking with you all” Tim tensed so violently, that Jason almost assumed he had shivered from a draft. He was wishing for his drink to magically appear in his hand so he could smash it over the back of Dick's gelled head. He flashed them an award-winning grin full of pearly white teeth and accompanying dimples before offering his arm to Mrs. De Longe. With a respectful dip of his chin to her husband, they were off, headed for a long thing hallway behind 3 ice sculptures. Jason watched them go up a set of smaller stairs before turning down the hallway. They bumped into each other and the wife’s handbag fell from her hands, spilling 2 tubes of lipstick and a black box of perfume from its containment. Dick’s face lit up in red as he rushed to pick up the items for her, kneeling down and scooping them up quickly. He offered them back to her, full of shame and embarrassment. She waved a hand, smiling at his humility before replacing the items. She said something to which Dick responded with a sly grin. She cackled like a flattered older woman does around young overconfident men before they disappeared from sight. 

Huang turned back to their group when suddenly a waiter stopped him with a polite greeting. He turned his head to listen as the waiter murmured something in his ear and he nodded. He looked back to their group, “You must forgive me. My head of staff has just informed me of a small issue with the kitchens. I shall be right back. Please, enjoy yourselves”

Tim nodded with a smile, his back shuddering, only visible to Jason and Kladur, taller behind him. “One, two…” Jason spoke and then fell silent, letting them catch on to his rhythm. The usual allotted time they wanted in covert operations was a full 30 seconds to make any suspicious activity appear less so by leisurely waiting. They reached 30 seconds and Kaldur spoke, “Shall we grab another drink? I think I saw a cognac my uncle recommended”

Tim nodded and Jason spoke for him, “Sure let’s-” Jason turned and almost ran face-first into someone. That fact alone was a surprise to Jason as very few people were at face height with him, he usually towered over others, and it did nothing to hinder his ego.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your interest in tonight’s selection. If I might impose, I would suggest the Jameson 37' over the cognac” Jason felt like his head would explode from the emotional whiplash and surprise he was being thrown into every 5 seconds.

Slade Wilson, clad in fine, black mohair, silk, and linen towered like a tree on steroids before them. He grinned voraciously at Tim, Jason, and Kladur.

Chapter 6

Notes:

Hey there! Hope you like this one. Finally getting into some action

No one spoke for almost an entire minute. Slade Wilson observed them cooly, his 2 orbs of steel targeted them in a sinisterly dark manner. Slade was dressed well, similarly to Dick. His front pocket showed a hint of red silk, the type of napkin that cost at least a week of child labor and was only shown off as a mantle piece. His white hair was slicked back nicely and his goatee was trimmed down until he looked the part of a respected militant official, the fake eye included. Slade placed a hand in his pocket and checked his other wrist, revealing a golden embezzled watch with an emerald face. He tsked lightly as he gazed around at their opulent crowded surroundings, “You’re quite lucky our host is no longer present or he’d be questioning why Bruce Wayne’s ghost of a cousin was unable to make small talk with not 1 but too renowned guests”

From his periphery, Jason spotted Kaldur shooting a quick gaze behind them to make sure that they had as much privacy as they could ensure at the moment. Tim was still silent and Jason cursed, realizing that Bruce was not purposefully staying silent at this point. He didn’t want the others busting the doors down unnecessarily, but had to make sure he got a message of urgency to the waiting members of their team. He placed a hand in his pocket, mirroring the relaxed effort Slade was giving off. Inside his pocket he tapped his thumb and pointer finger like his life depended on it, “I would say it’s a pleasure Wilson, but I’ve been told it’s not nice to lie”

Tim swallowed, coming back to himself, “How long have you been in town?” his voice was steady and quiet but his words allowed Slade to determine if they’d drop their charade.

“Only a few days, my business associates and I have other affairs to attend to while in the UK, but we wanted to make time to come today. William was quite enthusiastic about meeting Mrs. De Longe”

Jason felt a tooth crack as Slade mentioned Dick’s apparent persona. So they weren't dropping the act, Great, more work, he thought in aggravation, “I didn’t realize you’d be here, Mr Wilson. As far as I’m aware this week’s presentation doesn’t overlap with your area of business. Can I ask what inspired you to come?”

Slade raised a single eyebrow and it looked like resisted the urge to smile, “You know me well. We weren’t on the list originally but Will so dearly wanted to come, practically threw a tantrum if I'm being honest”

Jason was doubting his ability to not be the first one to throw a punch.

“I don’t see why…Will would want to come so much” Tim tried again.

Slade shrugged, “I won’t deny I gave him a little push but the ultimate decision was his. I’d like to think that no matter how irritating the willfulness of youth can be, It's instrumental for all young men to be able to make well-informed decisions concerning their careers. It lays quite the foundation”

Jason wanted to frown, were they still talking code? Why the hell was Slade talking about Dick making career path decisions like he was some college counselor?

Tim glanced at Jason, “Well, it’s been good” he said with a twisted expression, “But I’m afraid we do have to head out”

Slade’s hand shot out and gripped Tim’s shoulder and Jason couldn’t control the way he tensed violently, reaching for the inside of his jacket on instinct. Slade smiled knowingly as he stared down their youngest member. Jason saw Kaldur tense enough for his suit to bulge under his confined muscles.

“I’m terribly sorry Timothy” Slade made an apologetic face, “Mark” he amended with a cruel smile, “But I would love to chat further. Do you have a moment?”

Jason reached out and gripped Slade’s wrist, making sure to grip the watch as strongly as possible. He wasn’t about to worry over causing an asshole like Slade Wilson any pain when he could heal a broken leg in a few days. Slade’s eyebrow twitch was the only sign of discomfort. All eyes were drawn down to where Jason’s grip was cutting Slade’s watch band into his skin, “It’s rude to touch people without consent,” he said stonily, “Among other things”

Slade smiled as his eyes twinkled in a way that made Jason wish he had Superman’s heat vision. With his face titled to Jason, his eyes dragged back to Tim, “My apologies, Mr. Wayne. I sometimes forget myself, as I’m often humored by those around me”

Jason grinned back and tightened his grip until his own palm began to ache, “How awful. I’d hope a man of your age would know his limits by now. What with all your…wisdom”

Kaldur smirked which drew Slade’s attention and his jaw seemed to tick slightly. Jason hoped it was more from irritation than pain. The man seemed to have unmovable amounts of patience for the sake of infuriating his opponents. Dick often had the same results but from different more peppy methods. 

“I'd actually like to speak to this Will Renel” Kaldur said, “Would you mind pointing me in his direction?”

Slade took a step back from where he had stepped forward and grabbed Tim, “I’m sorry but I think it’s best to give Will some distance. He’s working on a separate project and I’d like him to have all his focus and concentration directed towards his task at hand”

Jason's eyes widened and he stopped smashing his fingers together in his pocket, “You fu-”

Tim grabbed Jason’s elbow to stop him from advancing. They shot each other a sharp look and Jason turned back to Wilson, “Cut the shit” he murmured, “You can’t actually try to assassinate someone so openly like this” he narrowed his eyes, “I know this a ploy, Dick didn’t just take her 2 rooms over and murder a billionaire”

Slade simpered a small grin, “Well if you seem to know how the night will play out.... I’m not sure why you are asking me anything”

Tim shot Kaldur a look before turning to Jason, “Where’s Thomas?” he asked, his eyes severe.

Jason furrowed his brow, “Who the fu-”

Thomas. Bruce Thomas Wayne. Where the fuck have Bruce and the others been this whole time? Jason had been too caught up in Dick’s appearance and then Slade’s confrontation to realize that his repeated taps weren’t doing anything. Jason’s stomach was doing flips from how out of control this situation felt. They were surrounded by gold-gilded danger around every corner. He felt like a puppet the way Dick showed up and they played them as shocked idiots only to turn around and run into Wilson who was controlling what they say out loud and where they could go. He blinked and a wisp of light green haze seemed to fade away, he did so again and it appeared again; like when you stared at the sun too long and every blink resulted in strange colored blobs and whisps floating before your eyes.

He took a deep breath and clenched his fists, not caring to temper his strength to save the technology plastered to his fingertips. He blinked again and the world seemed awash in green translucent haze. He neared Wilson, desperate for an outlet that would dissipate the building green in his vision and the bubbling heat beneath his skin and in his veins, “You sh-”

Abruptly, Jason was staggered as an ear-splitting boom resonated all around them. Jason knew his hearing left him for a minute, but wasn’t sure if he’d been hit or if the explosion was just that loud. The pounding of running feet and desperate cries blended together with the crunching of falling debris and shattering displays of wealth all around the room. A cloud quickly engulfed all he saw and Jason coughed as the debris found a home in his lungs. Jason blinked, wiping grimy large chunks of debris and dust from his face and eyes. He realized that the explosion had rocked them all away from each other. He was still standing, barely, but Kaldur was sitting up and Tim was crouched, looking around with squinted eyes. Jason followed his lead and realized that Deatshtroke was nowhere to be found. Jason’s heart was already in his throat but now his heartbeat was trying to beat its way out of his body through his fingertips and temples. Whoever detonated that explosion had just given themselves the advantage.

“Fuck!” Jason yelled out. He stooped down to haul Kaldur to his feet. Their polished shoes and black cotton and linen suits now looked like they’d been pulled out of a grandfather’s closet 50 years after his funeral.

“Where” Tim coughed and cleared his throat with a grimace, “Where are they?! Was that us or them?”

Kaldur shrugged Jason off, “I think it’s safest to assume that was Deathstroke, and hope that was actually us”

 

____________________________________________________________________________

 

Artemis peered around the corner, noting that no one but servants and waiters were this deep into the extended hallways of the hosting center. She'd done her fair share of sneaking around but was grateful that they were breaking into a business center instead of a mansion or something similar because there were usually much fewer doors and servants' quarters to sneak through and around. Batman was enraged when their contact with Jason, Tim, and Kaldur was cut off. For a few minutes, they could hear everything well but when Bruce tried to make contact and request check-ins, nobody answered them. Batman quickly realized that their communications were being toyed with and not long after they couldn’t even hear them anymore. The last thing they were aware of was the boys splitting up and Jason making contact with a stranger at the bar on the left wing of the hall. Bruce was furious but the Bat had leapt into plan B quickly. Ordering everyone to their predetermined stations. He’d had Damian run around the hotel, snagging electrical wires and spark plugs from anything connected to a wall or behind a TV, and all the cleaning supplies he could carry. The bathroom tub was quickly filled and Artemis realized Bruce was having his son create a very toxic aid-based bomb that could self-ignite.

“Are you kidding me?” she gasped as Damian worked to sort all the liquid into new bottles with as little shaking as possible. A Bruce-size gas mask was strapped to his face.

“He’ll be fine, Damian is well trained in toxin usage,” Bruce said dismissively, “The quality isn’t enough to kill anyone considering the size of the arena and hall, coupled with the amount of oxygen, the chemicals would have to overtake to turn the air toxic”

Artemis exchanged a flabbergasted look with Roy who seemed to give up and shrug. He’d stationed himself by the bathroom door and Artemis was certain it was to make sure Damian didn’t accidentally poison himself amidst his overconfident handling of every type of bleach and cleaning chemicals the hotel had stashed within the public's reach. Bruce was still staring down at his laptop, “This will merely trigger every alarm and sprinkler in the building and give everyone a cough-just enough to scare the attending audience and send the public into a frenzy. It will allow the boys to slip away unnoticed”

Artemis bit her lip, not liking how Batman’s plan was to cause a distraction under the assumption that Deathstroke or one of his accomplices had the boys cornered across the street. They’d even originally landed in the UK with the hope that they could complete this mission covertly, avoiding Deathstroke and any other catastrophes he could cause.  Artemis took a deep breath, calming her racing pulse. Just goes to show how no one in our field can ever be certain…ever. The fact was aggravating, but accepting the unmovable notion brought a strange sense of clarity and relief, like when you hit a certain age and had enough grandparents and distant relatives die. That stage of acceptance in youth where all you can say is life’s not fair, and sound like your parents. 

“Artemis, are you ready?”

She pulled her attention away from the teenager making liquid bombs in his hotel suite bathroom, “Yes” she said. Batman nodded, “Good, make sure you have your comm, and a backup, and let me know when you find either of the targets. If you find Dick or Wilson, you are not to engage no matter what. Report back to me and keep a safe distance so you don’t lose their location”

She nodded. She was already suited up in her standard dark green uniform and mask. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Sometimes it gave her a headache but she’d rather have a pounding in her temple than cause an issue due to messy hair. She pushed her communicator further into her ear canal and pocketed another one in case it fell out. Roy looked her over with a nod that gave her an extra measure of confidence that her building nerves were sorely in need of. He handed her a small GPS pinger that would track her location and ping her coordinates every 5 minutes unless she pressed the button on the small olive-shaped device, then it would ping repeatedly for the next half hour. She made her way out and up to the rooftop before swinging across the street to where Wally had been staked out before shit hit the fan and everyone called back to the Bat.

She entered through the rooftop access before making her way down to the main gala hall. She stuck to the servant and waiter hallways and kept her bow at the ready, checking the corners with the precision and accuracy that Green Arrow would be proud of. She found herself in the longest hallway so far, when a thunderous rumbling sounded off and almost shook her off her feet. Artemis’s instincts demanded she not drop her bow and clutch, even if the shaking was demanding she lose her footing.  Nonetheless, she found herself shouldering the wallpapered hallway like she was a linebacker with a vendetta. For a few moments, she struggled to breathe as she leaned into the wall and sought to see past the falling dust and rubble. Eventually, the shaking subsided, but the dust didn’t, forcing Artemis to squint. As the roaring and cracking sounds in the distance faded away, Artemis could more clearly make out the sounds of pounding feet, shattering glass, and cries of distress. Very rich-sounding cries of distress, she noted.

She grumbled as she centered herself again, wondering where Batman had directed Robin to set the explosion off.  There were a few splintered cracks across the walls she passed, but the building itself hadn’t come down, telling Artemis that it was most likely below them and hadn’t hit anything structural. She turned her head a fraction as she heard a distinct set of pounding feet approach her. She narrowed her eyes down the hallway before her. There were 2 options where someone could turn left into the hallway she was in. That left her to pick a side, aim, wait, and hope. She knocked her bow and pressed her body flush against the right wall. Aiming down the hallway on her left. The footsteps sounded sharp and light and Artemis was concerned there was something else accompanying Deathstroke. Mercenaries like him and her father had often employed young, small, or weak-looking women to cause distractions or create ploys to ensure a job ended successfully. That is how her father and mother had met in the first place. Her mother had been offered a large sum of money to distract men; falling over herself to sell it all the better. According to her sister was aware, her father had come back to her, time and time again because she had a strange loyalty to those who paid her well, keeping quiet under interrogation and minimal torture despite her lack of training. Her father had decided to bring their mother into their field and they had a few good years before her mother was wounded and bound to a wheelchair. All for believing she could rely on a mercenary to watch her back, father her children, and support her all the same.

Artemis clenched her jaw, some women were so stupid they almost deserved the damsel in distress ending they got. It wasn’t like she was some hardcore feminist who swore off men. She was with Wally for god's sake, but Artemis wasn’t stupid or love-struck, like her mother and the thousands who had let men before her, hurt them. She loved Wally dearly but she knew at the end of the day, that her life was her priority and that if they split up, she would be fine. She was born whole and well without the redhead and she would live her life whole and well without him, if needed. She bit her lip to break her pattern of daydreaming just as the newcomer approached. She was a foot away from releasing her draw just as she saw a waitress speed her way. The young British woman squeaked and stopped in her tracks, staring at Artemis with wide, frozen eyes. Her face was dusty and her fingertips were scraped and chipped. She’s just running away, Artemis reminded herself.

She took a step forward, trying to appear as tall and menacing as possible, “Where is the main ballroom” she demanded lowly. The waitress's lips quivered and she pointed down the other hallway, the one Artemis hadn’t chosen. Artemis nodded, “Get out and downstairs” she ordered before turning on her heel and proceeding the way the other woman had pointed.

“You good?” Roy’s voice came across in her ear. She nodded before catching herself, “Yea” she replied back with a touch to her comm, “Good” his voice cut out. They must be busy if that was all the check-in she was getting until she found the De Longes. She nocked her bow and continued on. She was only able to continue another few minutes before a voice stopped her in her tracks. Her breath caught, Dick. She stepped up to the next corner and peered around as quietly as she could. Dick Grayson, in all his playboy elitist glory, stood beside their target. His dark hair was closer to how she remembered him on the good days. Longer than that awful buzz cut the Court of Owls gave him, but shorter than when his brothers first dragged him home. Dick had a hand on the small of Song De Longe’s back and was leaning in, in a way that made Artemis' pulse race. She wasn’t sure if it was from her nevers being fried and on overload or if Dick’s body language did scream danger, but the way he was gripping her and leaning in made Artemis feel like her target was about to be much less alive and able to struggle.

Without thinking she leaned back, popped a single glass capsule out of the seam in her thigh, and clicked it into place beside the tip of her arrow. She took one strong step around the corner and launched her bow without giving herself time to second guess. She didn’t see Deathstroke anywhere so if she shot Dick pre-emptively, that only meant that they’d have a pissed-off, but safe and secure, Dick before Wilson could interfere. Her jaw fell as she watched Dick step aside, his hands leaving De Longe for a moment as he bent back on his polished heel. The blue glass-tipped arrow shattered against the wall between their face, causing the arrow to wobble from the impact. Artemis’ target shrieked in surprise before spinning around. Dick placed his hands in his pockets and tilted his head towards the side, extenuating the curves of his neck and the sharp frame of his profile, “Hey Arty” he purred.

“Dick” she stared back with wide eyes. Artemis had never rarely frozen in the field. She had a keen sense, amazing reflexes, and was exemplary at thinking on her feet. Oliver had praised her many times for being able to disassociate in the only acceptable way for heroes in the field-when becoming unemotional and separating their personal investment from other heroes saved the mission at the end of the day. Today was not one of those days. Song swung her head back and forth between the wobbling arrow, and splatter of bright blue liquid, and Dick and the new figure in green.

Dick looked back at the wall with an air of indifferent curiosity, “Were you trying to shoot me Artemis?”

“Who is that?!” Song cried out, pointing at Artemis. Dick ignored her.

“Dick-I’m sorry but we’re here for you. We’re here to save you and Deathstroke is distracted so I wanted to-”

“I get it” Dick shushed with an easy-coming smile, “You were being efficient, like always”

Artemis blinked again, feeling uncomfortable. She knew that what state they were going to find Dick in wasn’t certain but this well-fed, easy-going, carefree version of her best friend was definitely at the bottom of her list of expectations. Dick seemed to understand and rubbed the base of his neck with an open grin, “Sorry. I imagine you came here with a whole plan right? Bruce used to make us memorize at least 3 different versions of a mission plan to be prepared. I am curious though, was the detonation part of it? Or did I throw a wrench in things and make you guys feel like you needed to scramble?”

Artemis frowned as Dick’s tone stayed open and friendly but his words held a slight edge that hinted at demeaning, “Dick, are you alright?” Beside him, she could see Song glancing between them uneasily, inching away little by little, “We were-are so worried. Your brothers have been losing it looking for you. They-”

“They have?” Dick beamed, “Aww how nice of them. I bet Tim was all over that, his brain is made for puzzles. Damian’s got the determination for sure-Jason too actually, but they’re definitely not built like Tim that’s for sure” Dick chuckled. He checked his wrist like there was a watch there, “About 2 years, hmmmm, I guess it was a bit of a challenge-”

“Dick” Artemis snapped, “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s us! We’re all here for you-to save you. Us-we, me, and Wally and Roy and your brothers and your dad”

Dick’s serene face seemed to spasm and twitch for half a second when Artemis mentioned Bruce but, she played it off as her nerves getting the better of her. She was desperate to figure out what mental state Dick was currently in right now as she had both her targets here and alone; practically a successful mission served on a silver platter. Artemis knew better though, her nerves hadn’t subsided as she realized that Dick was well fed, clean, content looking, but wasn’t rushing to Artemis, wasn’t tearing up in happiness at finally being rescued or breaking down over all the horrible things Deathstroke had blackmailed him to do. It amde Artemis uneasy and she knew better than to ignore her gut instincts.

“We’re here for you Dick” She exclaimed again, “We need to go now. Both of you. We can exit through the staff routes before Slade gets back”

Dick huffed a silent breath through his nose and Artemis realized she was being laughed at, “That’s cute” was all he said, “Really”

She stared at him dumbfounded and he returned the look with one that said, What were you expecting?

“What did he do to you?” She demanded stepping closer. The target she was supposed to be protecting fled from her mind in an instant, all for the dark-haired demon before her. Dick’s eyes darkened but she realized with a hopeful flutter that his eyes were blue, not gold or yellow or murky, but bright shining wonderful blue.

“Watch yourself Artemis” he hissed, leaning in. She squared her shoulders, not giving him an inch, “Or what Grayson?”

He watched her for a moment before a small smile crooked the corner of his lips, similar to how he smiled after punishing Damian for taking things too far, “I’m fine” was all he said.

“Bullshit” she spat, “What is it? What’s he done to you? Did he pick up a civilian and hold them hostage for your cooperation? Does your food taste funny? Are you having memory issues again?”

Dick took a deep breath and leaned back, straightening up. He rolled his shoulders and released his breath but Artemis wasn’t fooled, she spotted the tick in his neck and the way his shoulders and forearms bulged beneath his suit. He looked down at her and she was floored by how tall and overpowering he suddenly felt. As kids and teens, they were all about the same height. When they all hit about 15 is when Jason, Kaldur, and Roy started to shoot up but Artemis had always felt so equal, on equitable footing as Dick. The way he treated her down to being the same height as him always made her feel like she could place her trust in someone who was so much like her, and gave her so much consideration and compassion. The tall towering figure of lithe muscles and attentive sharp blue before her seemed worlds, eons, different and realities away from the 14-year-old boy she met. The only one who could quell a room and crack jokes around the Dark Knight.

“I’m fine, Artemis”

She glared, “Is he listening right now?” she demanded, “I’m not stupid Dick, if he’s listening give me a hand sign, something so I know why we aren't sprinting back to your brothers and dad,  right now ”

Something unreadable flitted over Dick’s brow and his eyebrows rose marginally. “Oh Artemis,” he said sadly. She blinked not knowing what she’d said to warrant such blatant sympathy. He stepped forward but it was too sudden for Artemis and she reacted without realizing it. Dick jerked back with a hiss as her palm smashed into his throat, shattering tiny shards of glass and splattering about 2 ounces of bright blue over his throat and white collar. Artemis stumbled back, almost as surprised as Dick. They watched each other for a minute and Artemis hated the way Dick looked. Like a predator containing himself, he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. He took another deep breath but this one was more haggard and deep, like it was taking effort to breathe and stay still.

Artemis watched him, realizing that this would tell if Bruce’s theory was right. He had told them that if smashing the cryo capsules against Dick’s bare skin as a last resort didn’t completely sedate him, then it would at least make him drowsy and more manageable. Artemis watched with bated breath but all Dick did was exhale and roll his shoulders. He opened his eyes and although they stayed blue, Artemis swore they seemed to darken a shade. “I-” She didn’t know how to defend herself to this Dick Grayson. He wasn’t stumbling or blinking quickly-wasn’t showing any signs of drowsiness or feeling under the influence.

“That wasn't nice, Artemis” Dick growled. The hairs on her arms stood up like pine trees as his lilt growled so low and deep she could almost physically feel it.

“We just need to get you back home Dick, please” Artemis knew her GPS was at her waist but didn’t want to risk reaching for it after seeing the way Dick’s instincts had helped him avoid a silent arrow from the back. Obviously much had happened in the last 2 years Dick. The more Artemis interacted with Dick the more she realized that none of their theories and speculations were accurate. Dick took another step forward and unclenched his fist. His shoulders sagged in a way that brought him closer to Artemis’ height, although she was already tall to begin with. He reached for her again and although she was tense, she allowed the contact, hoping this would make Dick more amicable to just walking away with her. This entire interaction, and the way he hadn’t made a run for it when alone from Slade, told Artemis that something was up. Either he wouldn’t or couldn’t run on his own, but the bottom line was that Dick needed his family and friends to drag him back home.

Dick reached for her and laid his arms around her in what she realized was a hug. She hadn’t been hugged in so long by anyone that wasn’t Oliver, Dinah, or Wally she was unprepared for the contact. Wally hugged her in a way that led to soft cuddles and nuzzling while Dinah and Oliver gave her parental hugs or one-armed contact. The last person who had engulfed her in such a warm, all-encompassing bear hug was Dick, more than 5 years ago. Her eyes stung as she blinked quickly to dispel any moisture. She reached up and clung back tightly, wrapping her arms around the ribcage that was bigger and more sturdy than she liked to remember. For a few moments, they stood there like that, absorbing each other’s scent, heartbeats, and breaths. It was better than any therapy Artemis had attempted. She clung to him tightly, feeling his buttons and lapel cuffs cut into her middle.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Jason pushed forward, shoving a man to the side before he could check Tim. All at once, their vigilante 6th sense flared and Jason and Tim looked to the left just as Kaldur slashed his hands down, bringing forth water from the destroyed ice sculptures all around them. Kaldur slashed his hands down in a knife-life motion at their newcomer’s upper torso when the individual yelped and skidded into a roll, avoiding the sharp water projectiles aimed at his upper chest and throat. Wally rolled to a stop and glared up at Kaldur, “Dude! Don’t kill me!?”

Kaldur unclenched his fists and the water fell in harsh splashes around them, “My apologies” he held out a hand and helped Wally to his feet, “Are you well? What is going on?”

Wally got to his feet as he scanned their surroundings, “Don’t worry, the explosion was us, not Deathstroke”

Jason blinked, “Didn’t see that one coming. The bastard disappeared like he qued that bomb”

Wally shook his head, “No, Bats sent out Robin to make a- wait, Deathstroke?”

Kaldur nodded, “How much is everyone aware of? We aren’t sure when contact was lost”

Wally ran a frantic hand through his hair, “Jesus’ he breathed, “Bats is having an aneurysm right now but we didn’t know Deathstroke was already here, we thought they were about to make an appearance and Batman didn’t want us all separated like this. He already sent Artemis to go find the De Longes”

Tim gave a crazed laugh and shook his head, “Not just Deathstroke, Dick was here first. They're pretending to be rich tech entrepreneurs”

Wally stopped, “Dick? He’s here? Did you talk to him?”

Jason growled, “Didn’t you just hear him West? He was here first. He talked to him-both Slade and Dick are using some lame-ass covers to walk around like it’s nothing”

Wally’s eyes took on a panicked light, “Oh my god, where is he? We need to get him right now. How was he? Did he seem okay?”

Kaldur reached out and clutched Wally’s shoulder, “We don’t know where he is at the moment but he seemed well, unfortunately,” he said after a moment, “Of course, there is no way to be certain, but there does not seem to be any severe harm done to him; no apparent level of coercion”

Jason stepped in, “We need to leave first. We can’t talk about this here” he looked at the speedster sharply, “Lead the way. Are the others already with Bruce?”

Wally shook his head as another group of frantic millionaires sped past them in shredded gowns and suits, “Batman sent them all to start on what we agreed on. He and Damian are keeping an eye out for Deathstroke and Dick, well after Damian rigged a bomb with hotel tech and cleaning supplies, Roy took over my watch so I could get you guys and Artemis is looking for our targets”

Kaldur inhaled quickly, “She’s alone?” he demanded.

Wally furrowed his brow, “She was the only one assigned to follow Song? You know this”

Kaldur looked speechless as he connected the dots. Tim followed quickly and whirled around towards where they last saw Dick disappearing with Song De Longe, “Fuck” he exhaled.

Wally followed their gazes, “Wherer is Deathrteoke” he demanded, his voice cracking.

Jason and Tim shared a look, “Dick” Without waiting for a response, Jason shot off into the still-falling debris and rubble. Wally went to chase after but Tim grabbed his arm, “We need to get out of here and come back around with better reinforcements, we can scale the window and break into the building from a place that’s not about to crumble”

Wally looked on the verge of panicking and Tim grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the opposite direction, “Dick found an excuse to go talk to the wife alone before Deathstroke showed up and cornered us from following Dick. We don’t know what’s happening but Jason will make sure she isn’t cornered by both of them. They can stall if Deathstroke is with Dick but we need to regroup, now!”

Wally looked back towards where Jason’s form was still disappearing and Tim yanked him again, frustration marying his tone, “Wally! Stalling won’t help anyone. Lead us back to Bruce and the others and then we can find Jason and Artemis, and then we can try and rescue Dick”

Wally seemed to be unable to mentally multitask past the anxiety bubbling in him at the thought of Artemis facing Deathstroke and Dick alone. He acknowledged that he was holding them up at least and nodded, “Y-yea. That way. We need to go!” 

Tim and Kladur followed as quickly as possible. 

__________________________________________________________________________________

Jason almost tripped as he sped around a corner, the scene before him stunning him beyond belief. Song stood in the corner, frightened and confused while Dick clutched Artemis to him in a bear hug that nearly smothered her form beneath him. His shoulders even had to bow forward to meet her shorter stature and she was the tallest Young Justice Member amongst their female population. Jason spotted the silver and broke his cover before he could take in the scene, “Don't do it”

Artemis jerked, her eyes flying open in shock at Jason’s presence. Her head jerked to Jason's disheveled clothing He probably looked a mess, covered in dust and cuts; his face drenched in sweat and panic. Artemis looked between Jason and Dick with a distant bewildered expression. Jason gritted his teeth, actually glad that DIck had shown himself earlier, so confronting him again wasn’t a shock to his system, “Don’t do it” he warned with narrowed eyes. Artemis realized Jason was looking and speaking to Dick. Slowly she turned back to face him and her eyes dragged lower to where their bodies had been glued together. She stifled a gasp as she spotted the knife poised over her abdomen. She gaped as all 3 of them started down at the knife. Dick held it expertly, posied like an expensive ball-point pen between his thumb and forefinger, balanced just so with the added tip of his pinkie. She snapped her head up to stare at Dick in shock to which he shrugged like’d been caught eating the last slice of cake, “I told you to watch yourself” he purred salaciously. 

“Get the fuck back” Jason snapped, pulling his smallest handgun from his inside waistcoat. He’d preloaded it with the capsules needed before he’d resort to actual bullets. Artemis looked like she wasn’t sure who Jason was talking to and just jerked away from both men. Her eyes were wide enough to look painful. Dick rolled his eyes which ended with his attention on the gun aimed at him. He gave Jason a single unimpressed raised eyebrow. Jason’s grip wavered for half a second as he was hit by how much Dick looked like Bruce and Slade at once. It bothered him to no end, turning his gut in all the wrong directions. Dick was dressed nicely, his slicked dark hair, high cheekbones, and strong jaw resembled everything Jason remembered about Bruce growing up in Wayne manor. But the way he held himself exuded Deathstroke the Terminator from every pore in his skin. His broad shoulders were strong and pulled back to enhance his towering height and his height aided him in looking down his nose in a way that emphasized his lack of concern for those around him. Like everything held a level of amusement for him if only because nothing posed a threat or risk to him, his bright blue eyes observed everything with a level of detachment as if no one or anything deserved true intimacy or concern from him.

When no one said anything under the suffocating air. Dick huffed and crossed his arms, “You would’ve been fine, I was only going to stab muscle tissue and it’s not even that long” Dick laid the blade against his longest finger for show.

“Drop it, now” Jason snarled, feeling too unsteady and underprepared. 

Dick smirked at Jason but obeyed. He slowly retracted his hand from between their stomachs and held it up with a questionable expression that asked, Like this?

“What-what’s going on?” Song trembled from where she was partially collapsed and clinging to the wall. Dick's playful expression disfigured quickly and he looked at her with a demoralizing sneer, “Do not speak”

“Where is he Dick?” Jason asked as he aimed down the barrel. Dick opened his mouth but Jason continued, “If you ask me who, I’m shooting you right now”

Dick’s face fell flat and he rolled his eyes, “Why are you asking me? You were the last one to see him”

“Don’t bullshit me, Dick” Jason snapped.

“I think he’s listening in or something,” Artemis said from where she was still inching to put distance between them, “He wouldn’t come with me but won’t tell me why”

Dick rolled his eyes, “I never said I wouldn’t come with you” he reminded her.

Artemis narrowed her eyes behind her mask, “You played word games with me and then tried to stab me when we could've taken the target and gotten back to your family and teammates by now”

Dick shrugged with a small knowing smile. Jason noticed the neon blue stain against Dick’s collar and the shards of glass against the far wall beside the hallway window. He searched Dick’s face but his older brother’s eyes stayed their true blue color, “What’s changed?” He asked sternly, “Why isn’t the shot affecting you?”

Dick glanced down at his collar, “She broke it against me which, I might add, was pretty rude”

Jason dropped his arm slightly, “That stuff fucks you up, Dick. Don’t bullshit us, you’re still human enough to have pores and red blood cells, you shouldn’t be this fine” Jason waved his gun at Dick’s figure.

Dick sniffed, “I’m going to take that as a compliment, but to be honest, after our last little…chat I’m not so sure if my chemical imbalance or biology is much of your concern-or Tim’s for that matter” Dick offered a more amenable expression, “If he’s listening, for all we know, everyone could’ve been crushed in the rubble at this point. The suddenness and placement tells me Bruce sent Damian out last minute, right? Wally and Roy don't have the dedication to learn on-the-go-bomb making”

Artemis narrowed her eyes as she finally stopped backing up beside Jason, “Just shoot him” she said, “We can deal with his bad attitude later”

Dick returned her level of hostility and faced them fully. He brought a finger to his ear and held it there, “No, I’m fine” he replied and Jason realized he did have a communicator on him.

“Who is that? Is it Wilson? Has he been listening this whole time?”

Dick ignored Jason, “I’m fine, a little parched if I’m being honest- fine, fine” Dick rolled his eyes, “Pull back, I’ll rendevous within the hour”

“Fuck this” Jason gritted. He was over this act. First, they were cornered by Slade and Dick and now Dick was making plans to leave them high and dry in front of them? Like they weren’t even a risk of restraining Dick and keeping him from leaving. Jason pulled the trigger, shooting a capsule right for Dick’s chest, but DIck shifted snapping his arm up as he rotated his body within a breath’s notice. Jason glared as the glass bullet shattered against Dick’s elbow with so much as a twitch of his brow. Dick held up his elbow and looked down at the awkward angle in such a Dick-like fashion that it only enraged Jason further. He pulled again, and again. Dick’s eyes widened in surprise before he turned further, snapping another 90 degrees and curling inward quickly. The blue capsules expanded into bright splashes and small shards of glass, most of them protruding from Dick’s well-clothed back.

Dick peeked behind himself, “Are you out yet?” he joked.

Jason’s eyes widened as green sparked across his periphery, “You fucker!” he roared. He fired again and again, not even hearing Artemis’s attempts to pull him back to reality. Before he reaized it, Jason had shot off most of his capsules. He’s crossed the room in long horrendously furious strides and shoved the barrel against Dick’s back, pulling the last loaded capsule. A small muted sound of glass breaking and liquid popping sounded against Dick’s back; he threw his head back with a tensed grunt. Jason smirked, pleased to finally see an authentic visceral reaction from his brother. Before Jason could act, his field of view was obscured by black. Jason stumbled back in shock as Dick’s elbow nailed him perfectly in the nose, enveloping his face in sharp prominent throbs. He cursed and almost dropped his gun as he felt Artemis grab his elbow and tug him backward. He blinked and held his nose, feeling warmth begin to take over his fingertips and trickle to his palm.

Dick’s back held a small shredded portion, revealing skin and drops of blue liquid with embedded glass shrapnel. There was a small vulnerable patch of tender red skin that looked like a healing burn. Dick turned before Jason could see too much more, but he wished he didn’t. Dick’s eyes were shadowed with an anger that Jason had very rarely ever had directed at him. Jason was starting to realize that the longer he lived, the less he could claim his older brother had never gotten truly mad at him. Even when he went after the replacement in a fit of pit madness, Dick had understood he was lost and uncontrollable. He’d never held anything against Jason past the point of extreme frustration, not until Jason had accidentally used conditioned code phrases on Dick 2 years ago. For the first time, Jason had seen and felt what it felt like to be hated by Dick Grayson. Unfortunately, the list of those who could claim so was small and growing steadily. 

Dick’s throat bobbed with regulated, unbidden power and his fists clenched at his side.

“Dick" Jason held up his hands, “Just come with us. Come home. We can figure out everything later”

Dick cocked his head, his gaze cold and assessing. So cold that Jason felt burned, “I’m sure you believe that Jason” Dick made his way to the window and peered down it. Unexpectedly, Dick’s fist swung out and smashed the window, earning a shriek from their forgotten target in the corner again. The glasses shattered, falling out the window sill and leaving a few pieces inside the building hallway. Dick smirked at the reactions he garnered and took a seat on the bare sill. Jason gritted his teeth, feeling a vein pop in his temples from frustration. It looked like Dick was trying to prostate his power in the most immature and transparent ways-breaking stuff, “It was good seeing you, Jaybird” Dick said suddenly, stopping Jason. His breath caught and he found himself speechless, all insults and prepared verbal berates fled from his tongue as he watched his brother tip his head back and lean out the window.

“Dick!”

“Fuck!”

Artemis and Jason both cried out as Dick let himself fall out the top floor of the Galla ballroom floor. Jason stumbled in surprise as they sped to reach the window sill, fearing the worst. Was Dick so lost and out of his mind that he’d try committing suicide in such a basic way? Was he hiding below the window sill in a surprise attack? Jason met the ledge and gripped it tight enough to hurt, uncaring when the glass bits cut into his limbs. They both leaned over the edge and frantically looked down, dreading the form of a Dick-shaped body. There was no one. Jason looked to the sides, hoping to find Dick scaling the building or waiting to employ an ambush, but his older wayward brother was nowhere to be found. Jason didn’t know what to do first. Dick was their priority for sure-he was Jason’s priority and the only reason the mission was put together to come defend the De Longes in the first place. Should they abandon the billionaire behind them and try to track down Dick? Jason’s pulse echoed in his fingertips and temples, pounding in an attempt to release the tension and pressure from Dick’s presence. The fading green haze that coated everything like a liquid mist followed suit. 

“What was that? Where is he?! Who are you?!” Song De Longe was desperate in her cawing and shrill cries behind them. Jason sagged against the sill, feeling a certain level of clarity return the more the glass cut into his palms and abdomen. He looked to Artemis and found his uncertain despair and confusion reflected back.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“What happened?” Batman demanded the minute they re-grouped. Jason narrowed his eyes, refusing to give in to the demanding tone. Wally, Tim, and Kaldur were all still covered in dust and soot, but looked well and unharmed if not emotionally rattled. They’d found Huang De Longe and corralled him aside after the police and paramedics had confirmed he was also unharmed. Jason crossed his arms and sneered but before he could say anything Song De Longe draped herself over her husband. She turned to look at the vigilantes, “Batman?” She asked, stunned, “What-what are you doing here? What is going on?” She glanced at Jason, but not Tim, and he realized that the woman was too rattled to make sense of and connect the dots on who was an authentic guest and who was acting too out of character for her to comprehend. 

Beside Batman, Damian, and Roy stood in their uniforms, stonily watching everything unfold. Jason could understand if they were disgruntled over being removed from any first-hand action only to find that Dick and Deathstroke made an appearance.

“You tell us,” Tim said from where he stood beside Jason and Kaldur, “We don’t know when contact was lost, we just never heard from you”

“And then we assumed something was amiss when you didn’t voice your concern over Dick’s or Deathstroke’s appearance” Kaldur added.

“Hello?!” Song demanded, stepping forward in her dress, which was basically a shade of browned grey at this point, a heel missing from her stilettos, “What is going on here? Do you know who caused this bombing? This horrible disruption of my husband’s event?”

Huang noticed the way Batman glowered down at the prideful woman, reaching out to grab her shoulders to hopefully coral her tone into a more amicable one.

“Guys?” Megan suddenly spoke over their comms, surprising everyone but Robin and Batman, “I have some news you should hear”

“Not now” Batman barked. Megan fell silent. Batman turned back to Tim and Kaldur, “We heard everything up until you separated. I made out half of Jason’s conversation at the bar and then suddenly couldn’t hear or communicate anything with all 3 of you”

“So you didn’t know about Dick or Wilson?” Tim clarified. Jason noticed his voice was starting to come back from the wispy faint nothingness Dick’s presence had squashed it to.

Batman shook his head, “It wasn't hard to figure out you were either stuck or being isolated after comms were down, and then Jason started tapping his fingers to the point of it being an obvious emergency”

Tim and Kaldur shot Jason stunned looks and he rolled his eyes in return, "I can be a fucking team player if I wanna" 

“That’s when I decided to move everyone to their roles earlier than planned and have Damian design a diversion” Batman continued.

“A bomb,” Roy said.

“A toxic bomb” Artemis added.

“I know my basic measurements enough not to seriously poison civilians” Damian snapped, his mask narrowing into slits.

“All this BS aside, we need to find Dick and Deathstroke. Now” Jason said, not realizing he’d spoken to Batmn directly.

“What happened?” the Dark Knight asked. Artemis shared a look with Jason, “It’s my fault” she said with a slight downturn of her lips, “I found Dick and the wife-they were secluded but I couldn’t convince Dick to come with me"

“Why didn’t you shoot like instructed?” The dark Knight demanded, “Let her finish” Tim ordered, not looking directly at his father.

All eyes turned back to Artemis and she took a shaky breath, “I did, shoot him, I mean. He dodged them like crazy well so I guess we can assume he really isn’t out of practice. I ran through all my supply but I broke one against his skin and it did nothing”

Batman’s face showed his shock and disappointment, “He was fine? No effect at all?”

Tim bit his lip as Roy’s shoulder hunched forward. They were all thinking the same thing. If Dick couldn't be sedated or brought down with the cryo liquid anymore, how would they handle him? Bruce surely wouldn’t ever shoot his son, if only because he refused to hold and handle a firearm. The next option was sedating him with syringes or gas well above the safety limit for a human but that would be much less convenient and safe for everyone involved in the operation. 

“Technically no,” Jason said, “But it was a longshot to hope that his pores would absorb enough to make him shit-faced. Plus I shot him point blank and that seemed to hurt at least”

“You shot him!?” Damian screeched. Jason rolled his eyes and held up his hands, “He was mid-stabbing, and I got mad and pew pewed him a little. With the capsules, not a bullet. But yea,” He said, “ I had to take a shot because he was acting really fucking weird”

“Ok, ok,” Kaldur said, “So he attacked you 2-”

“Was poised to attack” Jason corrected.

“And Artemis was out of capsules so you shot him within an inch of the barrel-he seemed to be hurt, and then he just ran away?”

“No,” Jason said, just now realizing how penetrative Wally’s firey-green gaze felt on his person, “He fell out a window”

Wally clenched his jaw and Jason swore he heard a tooth crack. He knew he hadn’t climbed any favorite lists with the speedster by running off and then losing Dick.

“You shot him and then he fell out a window? How did you lose him? He should have been where he fell! Did you check to make sure he was ok?!” Damian was rambling and heated.

“D-Robin, please, we did try. Jason is giving a horrible recount of events. He shot him and ran out of capsules, Dick was acting weird and smashed a window before purposefully falling out of it of his own accord. We checked, of course, we checked and he was gone, so I think it's safe to say he was fine and attempting to run from us”

“He was” Jason grumbled.

“How do you know?” Wally spat, “How do you know if all you did was shoot him?”

Jason didn’t miss how Artemis was exempt from his anger.

“Because he’s not fucking here!” Jason snapped back, “If there wasn’t something wrong with him, he’d either be with us or I’d be dragging his unconscious ass back to the ship already”

Wally stepped forward with blazing eyes but Artemis laid a hand on his chest, “Wally, please. He’s being an ass but you need to calm down and see reason. We tried to get Dick back but he didn’t want to come. He hugged me and Jason showed up just in time to stop him from stabbing me” Wally’s eyes went wide, looking to Jason’s dark gaze for confirmation, “He was playing word games with us and acting like nothing was wrong, when “She gestured to all around then, “Obviously there is”

She looked at Batman, Redrobin, and Robin, “He had a comm with him but we aren’t sure who he was talking to or if Slade was listening in. He made plans to meet up with someone else within the hour and that’s when he shattered the window and just sat back and fell”, she looked at Damian, “We looked, trust me, but we also had the other target to think about”

Everyone turned to look at Huang and Song De Longe. She stiffened now that she had all the attention she’d been demanding, “What?” She hissed, “Is going on?”

“You tell me” Batman boomed, stepping forward. His cape slid over his shoulders and seemed to symbolize a humanoid shadow even more appropriately, “What sins have you committed to deserve such an attempt on your life?”

She gaped at his response, looking at the other heroes like they might reign him in, “H-How dare you. I’m a proper, upstanding woman. A citizen-”

“You have been assisting with the funding and operational process of genetic experimentation on children for the benefit of Lex Luthor and his allies”

Her eyes stayed wide and fixed on Batman but her lips slowly closed and a cat-like sense of awareness seemed to overcome her features.

“Darling?” Huang asked, touching her arm with a concerned look.

“Don’t worry, dear. It’s nothing more than law enforcement trying to pin some horrible crime on the wealthy and privileged; once again”

“What?” he sent a bewildered look between the Dark Knight and his wife, “What are we being accused of?”

Jason crossed his arms, “The fact that your wife even knows what we’re talking about ain’t lookin’ all that good for you buddy”

Huang’s shoulders tightened in offense, “We can’t be questioned like this. I demand to have my lawyer present if you are going to accuse us of-”

“Of kidnapping, child and fetal experiments, money laundering, torture, Geneva Convention level atrocities….to start with”, Tim said.

Huang let out an unsteady breath of a laugh and grabbed for his wife’s arm, “Song, we need to leave now. These people are psychotic”

He gripped her arm and turned her to go, leaning in to whisper harshly. She glared and snapped back, “I thought it was a coincidence, why on earth would it be here of all places?!” 

“You’re not going anywhere until your wife answers for her crimes” Kaldur stated firmly.

“Your wife has been involved in some of the most vile medical schemes and plots with federal and internationally wanted criminals for at least 24 years, maybe more”

Huang narrowed his eyes, “If you make one more slanderous allegation agains-”

“Where is he? Batman turned to Song. Song narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips.

“Who?” she asked with a sharp knowing look crinkling her eyes.

Batman stepped closer, to the point where Huang let go of his wife’s shoulder with a trembling fright, “Where is Cobb? Where is my son?” Batman was past the point of asking, he was demanding.

“Don’t bother denying it” Tim said, “We have a list of every certified board member for the Court of Owls. You can drop the act as to why your life is being threatened”

“Cobb?” Huang looked at his wife’s profile, “Why are they asking after William?”

Jason smirked as Song maintained her stony stare with the vigilantes before her, but her husband ruined whatever facade she thought she could maintain, “He is a business associate of mine”

“Let me guess,” Tim said, “You just happen to have 20, 30-year-old business contracts with Lex Luthor, Ryland, and others?” Tim narrowed his eyes spitefully, “How many funerals of past business associates have you attended Song?”

Song’s icy features slipped for a second before she sniffed and turned up her nose, “This is preposterous, if you have any legitimate claims to levy against me; contact my lawyer” She dug into her purse with the vengeance of an inconvenienced woman, “Until then” she popped out the same makeup she’d spilled earlier, “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers and representatives”

She directed a cold calculating look at the Dark Knight while slowly applying a sharp shade of rouge to her lips. She brought the tube of makeup to her lips and moved to swipe across her bottom look with a glint in her eyes that screamed to challenge the Dark Knight’s natural authority. Then everything fell apart. The moment the tip of the lipstick swiped across her bottom lip, it seemed to collapse like a chapstick left in a hot car for too long; the shape seemed fine and stable until you applied too much pressure and it melted. They all watched in abject horror and shock as the tube seemed to fall in on itself and smear across her mouth and lips instead of her intended target. Instantaneously a sharp sizzling started to emit from her mouth as the majority of the lipstick was left smeared and in liquid-like globs across her lips. Song opened her mouth to scream but was cut off as the lipstick melted further and quickly crawled inside her lips with the movement of her head jerking backward. It claimed the roof of her mouth and cheeks with awful accuracy. She made a distorted choking sound and her eyes flew wide, bulging their way out of her skull. 

“Fuck!” Jason yelped in astonishment. The rouge that was initially smeared onto her lips started to sizzle more aggressively and within seconds, started to eat away at her skin.

“Acid!” Damiaan cried. Bruce grunted as he reached forward and gripped her, trying to cease her struggling. He reached forward and tried his best to wipe the red acid from her mouth and lips but that only seemed to make her shriek and flail more as the skin was so tender and fragile, that the small tugging motion actually tore additional skin from her cheek away, leaving tender flesh and red raw muscle beneath. Her husband was in shock, staring at the grotesque scene with wide eyes and a quivering jaw. Jason and Roy raced forward to try and hold her down as Batman barked, “Tip her throat forward!” they tried to maneuver the thrashing choking lady but it was difficult without dropping her on her head or neck, “Drain out the liquid!” batman barked.

“Robin! Cloth!”

Robin scrambled to produce a thick cloth from his belt, thrusting it in his father’s face. Batman thrust it down her throat to press against the withering skin while Tim poured water on anywhere he could reach around Jason, Roy, and her flaying limps. They were all so absorbed in their struggles and tasks that they were stunned into silence when she went limp. Batman stared down at the woman’s body, her eyes staring past him; unblinking.

“Fuuuuck” Jason breathed as he relaxed his grip on her. Roy followed suit, no longer needing to force her throat into odd angles, hoping gravity would compel any additional poisons out of her throat. Her face was gnarled, and most of the skin around where her lips should have been was missing. It was raw and puckered and heavily bleeding. Jason didn’t even want to know what the inside of her mouth and throat really looked like. Some of the deep red acids had splattered, catching her forehead, collar bones, and eyelids, leaving small sizzling burn marks and postulates against the skin. Jason swallowed heavily, suddenly much more aware of the workings and saliva in his own throat.  

“She’s gone” Wally breathed, but no one berated him for such an obviously blatant comment.

“Dick” Tim whispered, which warranted everyone’s attention. Bruce even looked around as if Tim had spotted their wayward bird.

Tim looked up, catching Jason’s and Kaldur’s eye, “Dick-he” Tim swallowed heavily, “He stumbled into her and touched her belongings, helped her pick them up when they parted ways from us in the gala. He -”

“That fucker” Jason spat, “His stupid sweet boy ploy was just to swap out her lipstick for fucking acid or some shit?”

“You don’t know that” Damian snarled from where he had backed away from the dead body.

“I don’t need to” Jason replied scathingly, “It’s obvious what happened and we played right into it. Getting her away from the paramedics so she’s a goner. Dick showed up and rattled us, Slade kept us busy while Dick did the deed and then they vanished to let us scramble, thinking we won”

“We don’t have Dick,” Wally said darkly, “We didn't win”

Batman was staring down at Song De Longe’s empty gaze. He looked back to where the husband still stood, imitating a statue, “We need to clean up and get moving” Batman ordered, “I want some of you to deliver them both to the nearest paramedics and report that you found them, nothing more. Let them handle it from there and blame her death on whatever toxins they think become airborne in the arena center. The rest of you will do a full 1-mile sweep to ensure that Dick and Deathstroke are actually gone. Meet back at the ship and we will go over details and move on to plan B-”

“Batman?” Megan asked over their comms.

“Not now” he barked.

“Batman, you need to hear this” Connor interjected for her. Everyone stiffened and Megan continued when Bruce didn’t offer any more resistance, “I was tracking any incoming airlines and private jets, like you requested, around the same time you and the teams arrived. They all seemed to depart at different times and have basically all left already but there is one flight that arrived 1 day before you and just put in a request to depart within a few hours. It’s a private line, the only information connected to it is the airline number and I can’t track that past confidential names and permissions access”

Batman stiffened as they realized that Dick and Deathstroke were departing. Artemis looked at Jason, “That must be what he was confirming” she said. Jason nodded in agreement. 

“Which airport is out of?”

“Brimhall, second closest to you” Megan replied

“We’ll have to follow it,” Batman said to himself, “Alright everyone, move now. We need to get back to the ship within the hour, “Miss Martian, see what you can keep pulling about the flights, occupants, and details”

“I will. I can only tell you so far that it’s a 15-person max-flight private jet. Air Jaheed, and headed to the Middle East”

“Good, keep working”

“I want you to keep tabs on the progress of the De Longes as well. Let me know if anything out of the blue happens or if anyone of interest gets involved with them. So far, Cobb has stayed out of sight for the other deaths I think we can safely pin on Deathstroke as well”

“We’ll find him. Richard may be able-bodied in other new ways but he doesn’t have super speed. West will find him before they get on that plane”

Jason and Tim found themselves sharing a look as Damian’s verbiage had changed quickly. On the way over to the UK and during their entire planning, Damian had been adamant that Dick was still true to their cause and family. That he was acting against his will or without proper judgment in some sense the entire time, and they’d only need to find him to rescue him. Now he was speaking as if believed that Dick was acting of his own free will and needed to be saved from himself. Jason heaved a sigh as they moved on from the frantic comatose husband, the dead wife, the unanswered questions, and the acknowledged trauma. 

Chapter 7

Notes:

Hey there! New ch is out, let me know what you think

Dick was finishing up his warm-down when he heard the gym door click, and then click again. Slade didn’t speak at first, his large silent footsteps were purposefully unnoticeable, so Dick assumed he was allowed to finish his movements. He counted to another 30 seconds in his plank before allowing his muscles to relax. When he didn’t sense the older man, he continued, knowing he was being watched. Dick climbed to his feet and threw himself onto the low bars for some muscle stretches. He got into position for a push-up before lowering himself further, past the height of the bars, and held it so that every muscle in his chest and arms felt the deep pull of the strenuous position. The last week seemed to pass by in a strange haze and Dick knew it was due to his family’s inevitable intervention. He’d only hoped that they’d allowed him more timely; that they wouldn’t have forced themselves and their distracting presence on him so soon. Working until his brain was putty, about to drain from his ears and nose, or throwing himself into his physical routine exercises until he questioned his ability to make it to the showers on his own, seemed to be the only way to quiet his mind. Slade was already losing his patience with how many times he’d had to snap Dick out of a daydream. Dick knew they were past the stage where Slade stuck around merely to prevent Dick’s carelessness from evolving into harmful tendencies, but every now and then he was reminded of how instinctual his bad habits had been; could still be. 

Dick bit the inside of his cheek as he remembered the way Artemis felt, she was always muscular for a woman but her shoulder blades and back torso muscles were more than noticeable beneath his fingertips. The way Jason looked at him as well; it made him wish he had Superman’s level of strength so he could smash his fist through steel. Dick had pondered doing it anyway, if only to numb his overactive brain beneath the insurmountable pain of his flayed flesh. The way they spoke to Dick, like he’d seen them just last weekend and were merely stopping by to say hello. The casualness of their words as they mentioned bringing him back to Bruce made his insides crawl and boil at the same time. Dick could still see the polarizing way Jason directed his body language, trying to hide his gun while his deep wide forest eyes tried to swallow him up. Dick wouldn’t have known they’d come that prepared if not for the fact that the capsules were too small for the gun's natural magazine, causing the gun's handhold to make a subtle clinking sound with every movement. Dick would have never expected his brother and friend to shoot him with the same stuff that killed and hindered talons. He knew better now. He should have known better 2 years and 4 weeks ago.

Dick realized his muscles had gone numb from his position and cursed himself for his daydreaming again. He dropped to the floor after a few minutes and made his way over to the benches. He threw himself down against the seats and leaned against the lockers behind him. Uncapping his water bottle, Dick’s eyes roamed the room, searching the far walls and shadows for his master.

“Where are the others?”

“I gave them the night off, they’re probably down at the local town’s tavern”

“You think that wise? In enemy territory?”

Dick almost replied, “You brought us here” but instead said, “Kris and Ronan are fine, it’s just Jacks that gets out of control every now and then, but they’ve got him under their watch tonight. Kris never drinks anyway, she’s good about being hypervigilant”

“I know,” Slade said flatly, “I vetted and hired them, if my memory serves me correctly. No matter their social flaws, they were in the top 1% of their field”

Dick wasn’t sure what to say to that, wasn’t sure if Slade was bragging about his choice of soldiers or reminding Dick that he knew them better than his apprentice did. He’d come to rely on them to a certain degree: Kris, Ronan, and Jacks. While Slade had a vast network of contracted soldiers, contact killers, and personal militia members all over the world for high and low-profile jobs, he’d made Dick start to familiarize himself with some of his top performers. He’d told Dick that if he was ever to inherit or help conduct Slade’s covert empire, he’d have to know who and what he was running in the first place. Since then, they’d accompanied the 2 of them on every mission in some way, but Dick was certain he was trying to get him to bond with people who were more comfortable doing what Slade did. Almost like he was trying to force Dick to make friends with normal people who’d chosen Slade’s line of work. Dick knew it was a heavy form of emotional manipulation. He was shit at denying people for the most part and they were all too easy to become friendly with, further integrating himself into Slade’s army of men and women who scoured the earth for contracts and jobs on behalf of Slade’s name.

“You seem to be taking well to the new amenities”

Dick bit his tongue to hold in response. He knew that most people would assume he was stiff as a board but his master would never miss the twitch in his right cheek, or the tenseness in his shoulders. He hated it when Slade snuck up on him; it made him feel like he was still Robin, like he was leagues behind everyone without realizing it. Being humored purely because his attitude and energy were enough to entertain his enemies, who didn’t view him as enough of a threat to call him one in return.

“I hate being stuck in my room here. I don’t have any windows. Plus,” he leaned back slightly, “No one else seems to have enough balls to come train with me”

Slade stepped forward from where he’d been melded to the shadows; slightly behind Dick, “Would that have anything to do with the young man now bedridden in the infirmary?”

Dick glared down at the water bottle in his hands. He was currently placing visible effort into not crunching it between his fists, “Mouthy brat got what he deserved. He’ll recover”

Slade hummed and Dick heard his footsteps prowling behind him, never within range of view, “It was only an insult. Ra’s has since asked me if your self-control will be a hindrance” Slade’s voice deepened and darkened, “I’ve assured him it won’t be”

Dick nodded immediately. He was desperate to ask what they were doing in Jordan. The territory’s Prime Minister was hosting some large private dinner that Slade had decided they were going to. It wasn’t until Dick had received confirmation of Song De Longe’s death that Slade had informed him they would be staying with Ra’s Al Ghul, hosted by the Demon Head. Dick wasn’t blind to the pattern he’d seen over the last year and a half. As soon as Slade was confident he was no longer a self-harm risk, and was allowed outside mostly unsupervised, they’d broken up their hunt for the Court of Owls with missions and contracts of people either for the Light or associated with it. Dick was sure they’d even taken a hit for Luthor at some point but the man did nothing in person or under his true alias, determined to maintain his public figure and reputation.

“Richard” Dick looked up to find Slade’s face. The mercenary had forgone his fake eye from their last mission and now wore his usual black eyepatch; Dick preferred it that way. Slade made his way around the bench to stand before Dick, never breaking eye contact, “Will this be too much for you? Let me know now so I can lock you away and save us both whatever pain your punishment will bring”

Dick glared, resisting the urge to hunch his shoulders, “I can handle this. I’ve been here before”

Slade grinned and crouched down into a squat that most bodybuilders would envy. Dick couldn’t not track the movement, morbidly cherishing the height difference Deathstroke so rarely permitted anyone in his surroundings. Slade halted on his haunches so he was now staring up at Dick, “You know that’s not what I’m talking about, pretty bird. Your brothers have finally clued into what we are doing. They’ll be showing up more and more now; there’s no getting around it”

Dick dropped his water bottle, choosing to abuse his fingers instead of the metal container. Slade reached out with deft fingers and stopped his painful fidgeting, “I know you’re not blind to the mistakes you've made now that you’ve seen those boys again. Talking back to our host, making me repeat myself, almost crippling that loud-mouthed boy-”

“He insulted Damian”

“The demon Head did nothing. Don’t you think he would've disciplined his own soldier if he took offense?”

“Damian is his heir, he should take offense to any slander-”

“Damian’s inheritance is no longer your concern. If anything, you should be glad that it appears Talia and Ra’s are moving on from their fixation over your brother’s future”

Dick looked away but Slade tsked and guided his face back to his with a single crooked finger against his chin, “I won’t allow you to act out and ruin things while we are here. Let me know if you are unable to control yourself, and I will do so for you”

Dick's chest clenched tightly, but not in a painful way. Slade's easy acknowledgment of how brutally honest and truthful he could offer himself and his thoughts up to Slade were sometimes bothersome. Instead, Dick barred his teeth, “I’m fine” he snapped, “And you haven’t even explained what we're actually doing here anyways. I thought we were going back to the States”

Slade smirked and tapped Dick on the chin, “Don’t play coy. You know what we’re doing, kid. You’ve seen the names on the bank statements sent our way. Making you observant was one of the many things I never needed to fix in you”

Dick looked away as much as Slade's hold allowed, “Are we on retainer for Luthor? The Brain?”

Slade shook his head, “We’ll know after my meeting with Vandal Savage”

Dick blinked, momentarily forgetting his ire, “You’re not here for Ra’s?”

Slade allowed his chin free, “No, he merely offered to host us before this week’s event”

Dick didn’t look convinced, “So you’re not meeting with the Light?”

Slade watched Dick, “We are here so I can meet with Vandal Savage. Whether or not his intention and potential offer will be presented individually or on behalf of the Light is yet to be seen”

Dick scoffed, “You expect me to believe that you’re winging things? Just going with the flow?” 

Slade’s eye shown with mirth and he leaned forward, gripping Dick’s knees tightly; too tightly. Dick winced and glanced down, his train of thought halted by the overbearing warmth emanating from Slade’s palms, even from behind his gloves. Slade relaxed his grip as if Dick’s reaction was reward enough for the mercenary. He thumbed over his kneecaps, caressing his clothed skin in a way that had Dick swallowing down a different kind of rising heat. Dick dragged his gaze upward to find that singular cold steel eye already focused on him, hunting for his attention. 

“What-” Dick licked his dry lips, “What do you think will happen?”

Slade’s lip ticked up slightly but he never broke eye contact, “I expect that he will be offering something to us on behalf of the Light; in exchange for my services of course”

“Yours?”

Slade nodded, the gentle rhythm of his thumbs never stopping, “And yours of course, but as my student, you are an extension of me. If someone buys me, they buy you”

Dick hesitated before forcing the words out, “This will get us closer to Cobb, won’t it?”

Slade smiled slightly “That is the idea, kid”

Dick nodded, unable to look away from where Slade’s thumbs were drawing sweeps and circles across his knees and thighs.

“Now” Slade purred, leaning forward to continue the same motions across Dick’s legs, brushing his inner thigh with every other broad sweep of his sure fingers, “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you kid? Play your part well? Listen and execute orders?”

Dick nodded but Slade continued, “This isn’t just for my benefit, for me to see you bend and obey me so deliciously. This gets you, us, closer to Cobb and the remaining owls, kid. Trust that I'm not selling you to Ra's and the Light for the fun of it”

Dick was unable to look away from the strokes across his legs and knees. He still felt overheated from his exercise regime and Slade’s movements seemed to coalesce that heat, encouraging it to pool into a syrupy fashion; settling lower and lower. 

“Right,” Dick said, not feeling as sure as the word should, “The Court”

“The Court” Slade murmured, his eye never straying far.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Another. Fucking. Party. Are you shitting me?” Jason snapped as he scrolled through the data Tim had put together for everyone. They were racing across the world, chasing the same private jet that had arrived before them and left 4 hours after Song De Longe’s death. Tim had confirmed, as they were bordering, that she had been pronounced dead at the scene alongside her in-shock husband. “They’ll probably blame it on poisoning and asphyxiation,”

“This is different” Tim snapped, “The fucking Prime Minister is holding the dinner. It’s private and only the who’s who internationally are going to be there. Getting access to him versus her isn't even on the same field”

“So then why are we even trying to get an invite? It’s not like we can”

“We can” Bruce rebutted, “I know Prime Minister Haba. He’s attended quite a few charities for Wayne Enterprises before”

Tim looked surprised, “Really? I didn’t know that”

Bruce looked back towards the flight control panels, “It was earlier on. Only Dick met him”

The blatantly obvious topic of Dick somehow seemed to quell everyone’s rising voices once again. Damian looked disgruntled for no apparent reason and Bruce withdrew again. Jason rolled his eyes, “Ok, so this guy only ever attended some of your parties when Dick was like 11?”

“9” Bruce answered, “He was very entertained by Dick as a child performer. I did my best not to request him back”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Wait” Everyone turned to look at him, “This isn’t that guy that Dick said might’ve been perving on him was it? That asshole that made him do flips like he was some circus monkey?”

Damian’s eyes widened and narrowed at the same time, his face unable to display the proper amount of stun and rage at once. He turned to his father, “What is Todd referring to?” Damian demanded.

Bruce’s shoulders were tense from where he sat turned away from his sons and their teammates, “When did Dick tell you?” Bruce asked.

Jason crossed his arms, “He didn’t. He let it slip when he was loopy from Scarecrow's fear gas my first year as Robin. He kept seeing the fucker try to touch me and flipped out. It wasn’t hard to figure it out from there”

Bruce nodded but didn’t say anything else.

“Father, Todd must be wrong. Richard was always very clear in how he portrayed his acrobatics to honor his parents as artists and not street performers”

Bruce sighed and the ship’s cabin felt it, “Dick was only like that after, Damian”

Damian’s nostrils flared, “How could you allow this?”

Bruce turned on Damian sharply but the youngest boy didn’t back down, “Dick didn’t realize what he was doing at first and I was about 6 months into being a first-time father of a traumatized immigrant boy. Saying that I did a lot wrong with Dick is an understatement” 

Kaldur leaned forward and caught Damian's eye, “It sounds like Nightwing was young. We were all impressionable and eager to please at that age, but imagine it from his perspective”

Damian frowned, looking like he wanted to refuse just to be petulant, but Kaldur continued, “Nightwing grew up incredibly poor until Batman. His acrobatics was all he had, aside his name and memories. I assume Robin was showing off his skills without truly realizing how dark the world and certain adults could be”

The teens looked to Batman who nodded, not looking pleased to need others to calm Damian, “That’s accurate enough. I wasn’t always with Dick at Galas and he usually snuck off with Roy or Wally, if Oliver came, or fell asleep when they went too long. The last event Prime Minister Haba was formally invited to was a Wayne Ent. event where I caught him requesting Dick to show him more routines” Bruce’s severe tone alluded to the fact that something much more detrimental was said or requested, “I stepped in and Dick didn’t fight me, for once. That was about a month before he caught me in the cave and demanded that I train him”

Damian's features were tight and conflicted-looking.

“So, the event,” Artemis said when the ship’s cabin had lulled from a tense silence to a more comfortable one, “How are we supposed to get in if Haba probably hates you and it’s a private, closed event?”

“That’s where I’m stumped” Tim admitted with a glance at Damian and Jason, “I don’t want us to try another operation so soon after what just happened, but I’m not sure how to get us in there; as us. It would be the safest way because we’d all be in there for backup and recon assistance instead of separated like last time”

Damian looked at Bruce, “Grandfather is close by, is he not?”

Bruce nodded, “I was already considering it. I’m not confident that it will be a safe bet”

“How could Ra’s help?” Jason asked.

“Talia just attacked you guys and tried to kidnap Damian. She can’t be happy with how Dick handled it, and if she was in league with Ra’s then we’re on his shit list too” Wally added.

Bruce scrolled through the screen in his hands, “It’s the Demon Head’s territory; part of it at least. If Ra’s isn’t going to such a high-profile event himself, then he will at least know the guest list for everyone attending” 

“Okay, so you’re just gonna ask Ra’s for the guest list to confirm if Dick and Slade will be there or what?”

Bruce nodded, “Exactly. When we land, I’m going to reach out to him and test the waters. He’ll let me know if he’s willing to help us out or not, but if he isn’t and we still proceed forward, he won’t be stepping in on our behalf”

“How do you know that for certain?” Kaldur asked.

“It's out of respect for Father” Damian informed the Atlantian heir, “My grandfather has the utmost respect for Father, which is partially why he chose to sire me”

“Dude” Jason groaned, “That’s not something to brag about”

“Nonetheless, Grandfather allows Batman a certain leniency before their confrontations because he feels so few can compete with him at his level, and with equitable effort” Damian stuck his tongue out.

Kaldur looked bothered but nodded in acceptance.

“So what? We’re gonna hope that Ra’s Al Ghul either invites us as his plus 1 or gives us the invite list?” Roy asked where he sat beside a disgruntled-looking Wally.

Batman nodded, “Precisely. The guest list will give us an idea of who to keep an eye out for and it will let us know if we can safely attend in person”

“But if the Light or anyone noticeable is there then they’ll know you’re there, Bruce” Tim said, “I know Luthor hasn’t made any moves, but he’s got to know our identities if Cobb does”

“Which he does,” Jason said darkly.

Bruce turned to face his son, “While that’s true, it’s a risk we need to take. Luthor most likely knows our identities but understands the level of mutual destruction that would befall him if he attacked the Waynes in a move against Batman. I’m going to decide if we’ll attend based on the guest list. If there are enough people that Bruce Wayne knows, then he and his sons, and their friends shouldn’t be too strange of an appearance. Luthor and any others won’t be willing to make such a scene in front of oblivious high-profile guests either, so we’ll be safe as long as we don’t separate or get isolated”

“I don’t know Bruce” Tim replied with a furrowed brow.

Bruce grunted and turned away, “We have to” he stated again, “We can’t keep chasing Dick and Wilson, and that’s the game they’re setting us up for right now. They're forcing us to be reactive when we need to be proactive and that will ruin us before we get a chance to save Dick”

Wally nodded in agreement, his green gaze was set on the Bat like he could burn through him with the passion he felt. Jason was surprised the speedster hadn’t vibrated through anything on accident after his last outburst. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Fuck” Tim muttered as he scanned the guest list. Ra’s had confirmed he’d be making an appearance, but not for long. He did inform Batman that Luthor and Queen Bee were hosting the event, under the guise of Haba, before sending the remaining guest list over for them to puruise.

“This is good and bad,” Artemis said as she and Damian read over Tim’s shoulder.

“We’ll fit right in,” Bruce said as he reviewed the list on his device. The only attendees who would recognize Bruce as Batman were Luthor and Ra’s, but Queen Bee and Savage would be attending as well, increasing the risk of their identities spreading after this event. Bruce had reviewed the civilian names and confirmed that he’d met or hosted them at other charities, galas, and fundraisers in the past as Bruce Wayne.

"That sounds good though, why do you still sound like you’ve got a stick up your ass?” Bruce glared at Jason.

Tim turned to Jason, “Be helpful or be quiet” he snapped.

Jason sassed, “It’s just a question”

“Aren’t you supposed to be not talking to each other?” Tim replied back just as quickly. Jason blinked. He glanced to the side and saw that Bruce was already watching him, waiting for his response, “Whatever” he crossed his arms.

“Jason does have a good point,” Kaldur said, “Why are you not more pleased? Did the Demon Head mention something detrimental to the mission?”

Bruce nodded but didn’t reply at first, lost in thought, “Dick and Deathstroke will both be attending but Ra’s clued me into a theory of his that Vandal Savage is only attending for a specific reason, which involves Deathstroke”

Jason looked over to their youngest member to see that Damian was scowling down at his own list, glaring venomously like he had a bone to pick with every attendee and guest, but Jason knew it was just one name that had earned his permanent ire. Jason didn’t doubt that the more Damian learned about Dick’s past, the more he was wishing for the full force of the League of Shadows, that his inheritance would grant him if he still held his grandfather’s favor.

“Ra’s let me know that Vandal won’t be making an appearance. He only decided to come after a meeting between himself, Cobb, Luthor, Klarion, and Queen Bee. Ra’s told me that he wasn’t able to attend but that Queen Bee met with him later to discuss any new or altered plans. Vandal Savage proposed hiring Deathstroke to keep him on retainer for contracting work on behalf of the Light”

Jason and everyone else looked at Bruce in shock, “What? That won’t fucking work” Jason scoffed, “Deathstroke’s a greedy son of a bitch, and Dick would hate the Light after how they funded Cobb’s experiments and shit”

Bruce nodded as he held his chin to think out his thoughts, “That’s what anyone would-should assume, but the fact still stands that Vandal Savage is so confident in this offer that he’s personally come to this dinner to meet Deathstroke. What's more” Bruce’s mouth thinned considerably, “Queen Bee apparently reported that Vandal Savage knows much more about Dick’s biology and experiments than he previously let on”

Tim looked worried and fretful, “What does that mean? That he worked with Cobb? Like Ryland? Dick never mentioned him”

Damian crossed his arms, “Richard was too incapacitated, I wouldn't be surprised if he doesn’t remember more people. If our intel is right, he didn’t even know the leaders of the Cout until Deathstroke stole him”

Bruce shook his head, “No, I believe that Ra’s was implying something deeper. Vandal Savage mentioned Mary Grayson’s blood”

The room fell silent, “So?” Roy asked. Wally agreed, looking utterly lost. Bruce scowled irritably, “Cobb is related to Dick through his father’s side, Mary Grayson has no connection to anything outside of the fact that she was Dick’s mother. She was administered the tests and they kept track of her pregnancy from term to term, but the Court had no reason to care for her lineage or biology; only John Grayson's”

“So you’re wondering why Vandal Savage not only cares about her blood but knows enough about it to bring it up years later"

Bruce’s face did all the agreeing for him.

“Wait” Damian interjected, “What is their plan? If we are correct and Cobb’s association with the Light and Richard’s successful experimentation will lead to greater issues later on-what are they trying to accomplish?"

Bruce had been deep in thought, his thoughts forcibly pulled and extracted from his closed-off mind, but Damian’s question seemed to snap him from his deep reverie. The quickness of his head turn gave Jason a second-hand neck crick, “That’s what we need to find out”

“No” Wally argued, “What we need to do is save Dick”

Bruce’s lip curled at the challenge, “Saving Dick will halt their plans; somehow he’s integral. His blood, his genetic success; something” his jaw stiffened, “But in the grand scheme of things, the Light is the priority of the cape community and us as heroes. The Light needs to be kept in check, ensuring Dick’s well-being will fortunately overlap with that goal”

"If all this lab bullshit about Dick's blood is important, then we need to find the lab rats the Light is using," Artemis said.

Tim nodded, "Dr. Leslie actually gave us some pretty good leads on him. Babs is doing her own research back home for us"

Wally, ignoring all else, eyed Bruce like he was begging for the man to say the wrong synonym, just barely enough off track with their rescue mission for him to challenge Bruce further. Jason hoped they came to a fistfight because both were on his shit list at the moment.

“If we are truly going to categorize the Light’s unknown plans to be such high risk as you are suggesting, we should inform the Justice League,” Kaldur said, his voice firm and reflective of the underwater armies he’d been leading over the last 2 years, “It is one thing for Nightwing’s family and friends to sneak away on an unsanctioned rescue mission for 1 person, but for us to uncover a much larger plot, involving the Light no less..... We are obligated as heroes to make others aware of this”

Batman looked as close to stunned as possible. Most would expect the harsh black-and-white suggestions and orders to come from him, but from someone else, Dick’s teammate on top of it, was an obvious blow. Bruce had always faced challenges with Dick and others, being labeled as unemotional or unable to sympathize and understand those who couldn’t separate personal relations from their ethical hero obligations in the field. Batman always could. He was basically the physical embodiment of the reminder that they had to make tough decisions, and Jason wouldn’t be surprised if this was the closest he’d ever come to being called out on failing to abide by their vigilante obligations.

“We will” is all he said, turning away. Tim seemed frustrated over how far the conversation had gotten away from their true topic, no matter how relevant the new facts their responsibilities may truly be. Jason was starting to wonder if Tim was just going to allow Bruce to slowly take over control of the mission. It had been minuscule, subtle things that Tim had referred to Batman on, or let Bruce offer his suggestions for, but today was truly highlighting how soft-spoken Tim still was compared to Bruce and Batman.

“He's on here”

Everyone looked at Artemis in surprise, Wally and Roy turning to where she sat. She was still scrolling through the guest list, most likely the only one to have fully finished reviewing the names listed.

“Slade Wilson” she read allowed, “And a plus 1-RSVP'd”

She looked up, “Slade’s coming and I don’t think we need to guess who his plus 1 is”

“We need to get in there and get to Dick” Wally mused out loud, “Jason was on the verge of snapping ‘No shit’ when he said, “This might actually be perfect. If Slade is going to be in this private meeting, we can all attend and use Bruce Wayne as a distraction for Luthor while the rest of us get Dick”

Damian nodded, “I agree, like Father said, this is relatively low risk as long as we are within range of other high-profile civilians as Luthor hates to break character and reveal his villainous tendencies”

“How do we know that Slade won’t bring Dick with him? To the meeting, I mean. Slade knows why we're following him”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Wally said. He looked at Batman, “Didn’t you say that Vandal Savage was only meeting Slade? Not Slade and his apprentice or whatever? Those guys are big on titles so I think that means Dick will just be expected to hang around and keep an eye on stuff”

Bruce nodded, “This isn’t confirmed though” he reminded them all, “Ra’s let me know about Savage’s interest in Dick and Slade for a reason- he’s obviously got plans that involve Dick. Going through Slade might just be how he gets there, so it would be unwise of us to rely on just our assumptions”

“Do you guys really trust Ra’s this much?” Artemis asked, “We could be walking into the biggest trap ever. Why would he even give us a heads-up or any information for free? Even if we bribed him somehow, he’s a member of the Light. If they lose, he loses”

Damian scoffed, “Not everyone is as criminally basic as your family, Crock” Artemis scowled, her nose scrunching, “My grandfather has always wished for the Batman at his side, even before he was Batman. He enjoys a challenge and allowing your opponent more of an advantage is as challenging as mental ploys and battle schematics can get. He is not foolish enough to place all his eggs in one basket either. If the Light fails, it will merely be discarded as an unsuccessful side venture”

Roy, Wally, and Artemis didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t object when Jason didn’t. Due to growing up with Dick, and then Jason, they’d had very little know-how of the League of Shadows. It wasn’t until Damian came along that Dick and his brothers were educated on that portion of Bruce’s past and his training to pursue justice. Jason’s death and the time he spent with Talia and Damian made them inevitably cross paths once again. But once Ra’s became aware of Tim’s existence, the next Batman in his scheming mind, then he became almost a routine topic in Wayne Manor.

“We will attend” Bruce declared, “To secure Dick, but also to investigate what we can about the Light’s movements. My gut is telling me that there is much more involved as to why the Light has been funding Cobb’s experiments for so many years. Now that Dick has proven to have survived and been successful, by their standards, it can’t be a coincidence that the Light is offering an olive branch to keep him and Deathstroke close by”

“If they needed Dick, they could just take him. The guy’s slippery but he’s got a knack for being held hostage” Wally said with tight features. Roy smirked remembering all the kidnapping attempts on him and Dick when they were growing up with billionaires as their guardians.

Bruce shook his head, “I know you’ve never fought Deathstroke before, but taking Dick from him would be too costly for their resources. They’re waiting for something, and in the meantime, they’re offering honey instead of vinegar. We need to find out why while we are all there”

Everyone nodded.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“I’ll be monitoring you guys tonight so keep your comms in and don’t fall into any pools” Bab's voice sounded off in all their ears.

Bruce nodded, “Copy,” he said, “If you have anything you need to see to, just let Miss Martian kn-”

“I’ve got it handled. Just watch your own butt and get Dick back"

Artemis looked stunned as Batgirl snapped at Batman and he took plainly, just as he did Alfred’s admonishments and berates. She looked at Jason with a confused tilt to her lips. Jason gave her a look that said, Don’t ask, and continued fiddling with his collar. Damian pulled out his comm and leaned in, “Her father had a stroke and is in the hospital right now. Father feels bad about leaving Gotham to her and Pennyworth's sole supervision”

“Damian shut up before I shut you up” Barbara snapped. Damian jerked, realizing Artemis still had her comm in her ear. He grumbled, turning away. Barbara had worked with them when they landed in Jordan to discreetly make their way to private quarters near, but not in their city center, of Amman. Barbara had thrown around Bruce’s name and gotten a few people who were overjoyed to supply multiple suits to anyone of Bruce Wayne’s status. They’d promised complete silence as they were told he was attending a private silent auction and desired no paparazzi but Barbara knew that word would get out within the week. She hoped they’d all be gone and on the Batplane with Dick by then.

“We’re on the list?” Tim confirmed for the 10th time. Brue nodded, never one to shame double and triple checking.

“I’ll handle most of the conversation,” Bruce said as they sat back, mostly prepared. Due to the security and metal detectors at the Prime Minister's home, they were unable to sneak in anything metal. Bruce had given them each polycarbonate escrima sticks, smoke pellets, and small, pinkie-sized sedatives in case they were cornered. They’d also have to make sure it was all molded to other plastic items or drinks so as to not appear suspiciously shaped when they passed through the x-rays. Kid Flash had already sped around the perimeter of the grounds and mansion where the dinner was being hosted at to hide their additional weapons, nets, cryo capsules, and smoke pellets. They’d spent some time reviewing the footage strapped to his chest and his gps ping to confirm where everything was hidden so they could each reach a weapon in the off chance that they found themselves in a fight. Bruce told them it wouldn't happen but the fact that their last mission, only a few days ago, had ended as horribly as possible, coupled with the fact that he’d still sent Kid Flash out to hide backup weapons told the rest of the team all they needed to know about Batman’s real thoughts on the matter. They were at a private hotel at the moment, the type that allowed every room fake numbers and check-in names in exchange for absurd prices and privacy. Paparazzi were often not even allowed within half a mile of the front doors. Bruce gave them all another once over before he checked his phone again, “Our ride is here” he walked out the front door and Kaldur, Artemis, and Roy looked after him with dumbfounded looks.

Jason and Damian snickered and Tim sighed, “He does that a lot. We learned to keep up quickly as Robin”

Jason almost laughed, “Yea, if not for Dickie bird babying each of us, we’d have gotten left behind and lost in Gotham’s scum alleys” Damian laughed but it didn’t reach his eyes. Jason saw the way the youngest boy often bit his lip to keep small quivers away and felt his lips thin. Familiar regretful spite compressed his ribcage as he cursed Dick for not sticking around for the youngest most fallable member of their fucked up family. Luckily Tim noticed Damian’s body language as well and handed Damian his iPad, requesting him to review the information and check it over again on the ride over. Damian accepted and his misty green eyes solidified under the challenge of ensuring their mission’s full-proof plan. They made their way downstairs and into the waiting limousine within 10 minutes and were off, headed for the outskirts of the city where only the top 5% of the country lived well and comfortably. The properties were all so big that the gates often spanned multiple fields worth of space and the drive between each mansion, palazzo, and villa was at least 4 minutes; and they weren’t driving slowly.

“Kid should find an excuse to go outside to the terrace or balcony and then do one last lap to ensure our weapons are still in place,” Damian said as he handed the small screen back to Tim. Tim nodded, “Good idea"

He looked to Wally who nodded in confirmation. They were all in fine-pressed suits, polished shoes, and Wayne cufflinks, once again. Artemis, being the only female, was allowed to select a dress through an anonymous clothing service the hotel provided. She’d chosen a dark green slim fitting floor-length gown that had Wally repeatedly drawing his eyes to it. Jason bit his cheek the one time he found himself making eye contact with Artemis’s chest and she jabbed him in his own, reminding him that “Dick’s eyes would be so far in the other direction he would look gay; be respectful”

Artemis was already a tall, fit, and curvy young woman, but the tight green dress accentuated her hips and thighs, giving her an extreme hourglass figure that left her shoulders and collarbone bare for the wandering eyes of Jordan’s wealthiest. All too soon, they’d arrived at the gargantuan mansion and were ushered inside and announced along with other guests and their families. The inside was so bright and well-lit, Jason was sure he’d go blind from the reflection off of every ice sculpture, silverware piece, and custom cufflink in the room. The event was leagues above what the De Longes hosted at the speaker event center and Jason almost felt right at home; being overwhelmed with someone’s else financial wealth inside their own house was a very Bruce move. There was a large double-wide staircase that wound up and around to the next floor, and large windows that spanned from ceiling to floor every few feet of the living room. The floors were white polished marble and beyond the main congression area was a set of double doors 

Wally offered his arm to Artemis before she leaned in and said, “I don’t want to draw attention to you. Come find me after you make your way outside” She kissed his cheek in a show of intimacy and Wally’s jaw clenched as he was both comforted and rejected at once. He nodded and made his way around the room of clinking glasses and footsteps; disappearing behind a sea of suits and dresses. Bruce nodded to his sons, passing them with a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “I’m going to go mingle. I want everyone to spread out but not separate. Look” he said before disappearing into the crowd with a familiarity that made Jason feel like they were black home at a Wayne Enterprises party.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Deathstroke” Vandal Savage stood as the mercenary and Dick approached from behind. They were all in 3 and 4-piece suits, dressed to appear appropriately and blend in for the occasion. Slade nodded and took the offered hand, allowing a single firm shake before separating. Dick stood behind Slade, his hair slicked back just as the man preferred. Vandal Savage observed the boy, the genetic success. His skin was fairer than he'd anticipated for an Eastern European immigrant but the boy could barely be called that anymore after living in the US and under such wealth for so long. That coupled with the many procedures Cobb had put him through, from 17 to 24, could affect anyone's melatonin. His dark locks were short and clean along his nape, and longer on top, complimenting the suave playboy look Deathstroke was most likely having him portray. Despite his positioning to the back and right of Deathstroke, he still appeared formidable. His physique was tall and broad, almost reflecting Deathstroke perfectly, save the height by a few inches and the additional bulkiness the mercenary carried. 

His bright blue eyes were as shining as he’d seen in photos, but Vandal Savage was desperate to catch a glimpse of the hidden golden irises Cobb had reported. The medical notes he’d religiously read over before the meeting and on the flight over reported that while most talons’ eyes were permanently altered from surviving the electrum transfusion, their Grey Son was different. Their medical doctors and psychological analysts had determined that the boy's Iris shade was connected to any change he experienced: emotional highs and lows, any physical damage and healing that required the electrum to become elevated in his bloodstream, and so forth. Like a gecko that reflects his environment, the man thought with slight mirth

“Richard” Savage dipped his head, knowing that if Deathstroke wanted them to shake hands, he would’ve allowed the boy forward already. He could understand the contract killer’s possessiveness over him. Born and bred for greatness before being thrust into the Batman’s hands and then wrenched back away by his creators. The boy was a walking genetic enlightenment and the embodiment of contradicting morals. He was raised within the Light of Batman's Bat-shaped sky beacon but bred for nothing but chaos and destruction. It heated his nerves with elation. He knew forcing the boy to submit would provide a hearty challenge, no doubt. He stepped to the right so he stood directly in front of the boy, causing him to look up.

“Call me Dick” the boy replied back. He made eye contact for a second and seemed surprised at the heady, attentive way Savage held his. The boy’s jaw clenched and Savage followed the motion insinctively, watching the way his throat fought to bob subtly. A few seconds lingered between them before the boy caught himself and his gaze jumped to his restrictive master and he looked away, prepared to spend the remaining portion of their meeting at his side. Savage returned his gaze to Deathstroke to find the man already watching him. His face was clear of any emotion but his single blue eye was cold and filled with an unforgiving readiness. Savage chose not to address it lest Deathstroke take it as a petty challenge and sweep the boy away, further from his and the Light’s reach.

“Shall we?” he asked, extending a hand further into the study where his two guests had been escorted. Dick made to move forward but was stopped when he realized his master hadn't moved. He looked to the man and did his best to smother any confusion, appearing to be perfectly in tune with the large, white-haired man. Eventually, Deathstroke nodded and Savage resisted the urge to clench his fists over the ridiculous power play, the urge to make his host sweat merely to prove that he could, “Actually” he said, “I think it best if I allow my apprentice to wander. He’s been cooped up at too many of these black-tie events recently. I wouldn’t want to make him antsy just to have him sit at my side like a dog” Because I could if I wanted to, went unsaid.

Savage knew that Deathstroke was a master verbal manipulator, a lawyer in a past life most likely, but to hear his wordplay to adeptly twist insults into meager compliments made him more cautious than the man’s physical armory did. An enemy so advantaged by their mind and body that you couldn’t easily decide which was their weakest link was one to keep close. 

Savage raised a brow at his choice of words, “Very well”

Slade turned his head to glance down at Dick and the boy looked up. Some sort of agreement or information passed between them because after about 8 seconds Dick dipped his head and murmured, “Yes, master” With one last parting glance at Savage, he turned and made his way out of the private study and down the stairs to the main living room and the guests. Deathstroke turned back and Savage felt the full brunt of his icy gaze linger on his own person, analyzing him like he had the ability to flay a person of their skin, stripping their secrets and intentions from their bone marrow, “Shall we?”

After Savage and Deathstroke were seated, a simple long coffee table between them, Savage offered a glass of cognac to the killer. Deathstroke accepted with a simple nod and one expensive piece of ice. The 2 men sipped their drinks for a time before Savage realized that Deathstroke refused to be the first to break the silence, So be it , savage thought in annoyance.

“I hear you’ve been busy” Savage commented, leaning back. He swirled his glass every now and then as he eyed Wilson over the rim, “Have you dragged that boy to every inch of the world at this point?”

Slade grinned and leaned back, testing the stitching of his suit’s shoulders. He crossed one ankle over his knee, “Not quite, although he was already quite well-traveled thanks to Wayne. It’s only been 2 years, and thanks to your funding with the Light, I’m no longer in any rush”

Savage smirked in agreement, “Yes, that does work to your benefit quite well, doesn’t it? I’d imagine he’s having some trouble adjusting to such drastic changes. There are so few of us anyway, a social creature like him might feel a tad isolated”

Deathstroke hummed behind the rim of his own glass, “He’s adjusting just fine. I’ve experience with this sort of thing”

“Dying?”

Wilson's lip ticked down before he smoothed his features, “Surviving”

A heavy ominous silence settled over the room as they listened to the distant sound of muffled superficial laughter, “I have an offer I want to extend”

Slade raised a single eyebrow that said, “Reeeaaaally?”

“I assumed as much” was all he said.

Savage leaned forward and withdrew a sealed letter from within his jacket’s inner pocket, “While I can assure you I’m doing this with the full backing of the Light and its authoritative members; this opportunity and offer was solely my decision and will fall under my jurisdiction”

Slade didn’t respond, waiting for Savage to extend the paper to him. When he did, Slade barely sat forward, requiring Vandal to stretch his arm to its full length. Slade plucked the letter from his grasp and broke the simple red wax seal. His eye roamed the page’s contents once, twice, before he looked back to the dark-haired man across from him, “Add another half-million and you’ve got my full attention, add another 0 and you've got my business”

Savage smiled, pleased to see that Deathstroke’s internal dollar sign hadn’t wavered over the years.

“This will require stipulations though,” Slade said.

“Like?”

“Transparency regarding the intentions and reasons behind the targets and contracts we are given. I’m already aware that a majority of them are utter bullshit”

Savage smirked and took a leisurely sip, “Whatever do you mean Deathstroke?”

Deathstroke grinned in a shark-like manner and leaned forward, placing his drink down against the wood-lined glass coffee table with a sharp clink, “I’m not saying I’ll get in your way…yet. But this won’t work unless you’re honest with me about why you need my bird”

Savage grinned, reaffirmed in his ideals regarding the natural superiority of immortal beings, “You don’t think I’m merely after your exemplary services?”

Slade smirked and his shoulders dropped as the tension slowly dissipated from the room. He threw a hand over the back of his seat and held up his pointer finger, “You know full well that Sportsmaster is readily available and that my schedule has somewhat filled up recently” he held up 2 fingers, “My apprentice has only been free of the court and his grandfather for a couple of years and this is the first offer my services have ever earned me from the Light” he held up 3 fingers, “You stared at my property like he was your piece of meat and not mine. Need I go on?”

Savage chuckled and raised his hands in a surrendering manner, “You’ve proven plenty. While you won’t be privy to any plans the Light is implementing as you aren’t a member…yet. I can divulge to you a little about what makes Richard Grayson’s genetic makeup so special, and so interesting to me”

“I’m listening,” Slade said in a reciprocal manner, Vandal tsked, “You misunderstand me Deathstroke. That information is to come if you cooperate and make yourself available as the exclusive contract operative for the Light and myself. Think of it as additional payment along with your monetary compensation”

Slade grinned darkly, “I can’t ensure that you’ll be my only employer but I can ensure that you’ll have my priority. Does that suffice?”

Vandal nodded, “I’m sure you’ve already concluded a great deal but let me lay the basis” he set down his drink, “I am familiar with Richard’s genetic makeup and his experimental status not because I worked with William Cobb, but because my reasonings to the Light were the foundation for their continued funding of the program”

“The Evolution project?”

“Indeed. There were several attempts and Richard’s mother was one of the final 10”

“And his success in this attempted experiment is somehow integral to you? To the Light?”

Savage was thoughtful when he responded, “That answer may change as we proceed. You are not a stupid man Deathstroke so I know it can be of no surprise when I tell you that the Light has allowed too many different free thinkers to join the leading board. Our ideas and priorities have clashed before but not on this level”

Slade nodded for him to continue, “I will reveal more as you prove yourself true to your word, and reliable at that, but at the moment I can tell you that there are 2 different plays for power in move at this time. I want you and the boy close by and within reach if anything were to happen too…suddenly. Especially now that we have a steady stream of intel coming in from within Batman’s civilian household; an odd spy of sorts”

Slade leaned forward, “Do tell” he purred.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick pushed off from where he was leaning against the wall after he realized he couldn’t eavesdrop through the thick door. He wasn't sure if there was something purposefully deafening the sound or if Slade was stalling their conversation to tell Slade to fuck off from where he was leaning against the door. He shoved one hand in his pocket and made his way to the main entertaining area downstairs and down the hallway. The room was filled with people that Dick might’ve grown to be like, had he had the chance to stay coveted beneath Bruce’s money and unaware of what his death would lead to at some point; exploding his genes into some fascinating anomaly. He was desperate to know what was being said between Savage and Slade. Dick assumed that this entire party was a ploy to get Dick and Slade here but Slade admitted that apparently, Vandal was using the party as a simple meeting location after it was already set in motion. Slade suspected that there was a reason Luthor and Queen Bee were hosting the party with such billionaires as the guest list. Not just any billionaires either, every single person in the room had ties to with weapons manufacturing, international and federal contracts, biochemical experience, and more. It was the type of money that was actually recycled back into topics that helped make the world spin. The average consumer on TikTok and Instagram might assume that would be actors and electric car creators, but it was actually the people that obsessively made new types of air toxins for the government; later to be broken down, diluted and discovered to be a cure to cancer or something similar. The devilish work of the human mind either destroyed the world or progressed it forward for humans to find new and more creative ways to destroy even worse. Either way, they were all screwed.

The headache from his usual morning routine had subsided now. He’d been able to push their last mission from his mind enough to function to Slade’s standard for now. Usually, he was given a reprieve between missions, but Dick knew something as amiss and that Slade was after something specific: confirmation of information or a goal, something to make him accept Savage's invite so readily. Dick scowled at the floor as he passed the guests around him. Vandal Savage’s eyes felt seared onto the top layer of his skin and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He wasn’t blind to Slade’s possessiveness and overbearing personality, it shaped the man in a way that made him uniquely Slade, but seeing it and feeling it from anyone else sent a faint tremor through Dick’s fingers and made him clench his jaw.

If Slade wasn't there, Dick wasn't sure how the intercation eith Savage would’ve gone, but Dick wasn't sure why the man had acted so in thr first place. Was it to disturb him? Was Savage the kind of man that unsettled people for his amusement? Or was there something more in the way his eyes had devoured Dick’s and eaten up the pale expanse of his face, consuming his figure with a hungriness that was utterly unreadable? Slade was almost grateful for Slade’s dismissal, but he knew it wasn’t for Dick to escape those unsettling dark brown, nearly black eyes, but so that he wouldn’t have to up with anyone else looking at Dick nearly as closely as Slade did. He spotted Lex Luthor across the room, immaculate as always in his white suit and purple handkerchief, rings adorning each finger. Behind him, conversing with another group was Queen Bee in a very revealing but traditional West African dress. Her lower back was bare up until the cleft of her back curved. Her dreads were long and pulled back in a half-up bun as she twirled a glass of champagne through her fingers. Slade had already introduced him before taking him upstairs but he was in no mood to humor those two unless required. He felt a chill force its way through him and he scowled, looking around for whoever opened one of those ridiculously large windows. He spotted the double doors to the outside balcony, cracked open, and he heaved a sigh. He found that he was much more prone to severe temperatures and despised his strange weakness in the face of something so natural as the fucking weather. He knew from the cryo freeze capsules that he was more prone to cold weather so the desert at night was an absolute bitch for his skin. He was in a terrible mood and refused to be cold on top of it. He made his way over, all but stomping, and reached out to close the doors fully when a strange flicker of light registered in his periphery. Dick jerked in surprise and looked to the left. No one stood particularly close to him and Dick’s first thought was that the light wasn't a glint off a glass that caught his eye too strongly, but more so a yellow light, like Kid Flash or the Flash.

Dick gripped the door handle tightly, realizing too late that he’d bent the curved metal. He forced himself to drop his grip, thankful the entire handlepiece didn't fall off or crumble beneath his ire. High-pitched laughter and shuffling feet brought him back to himself and he straightened his back, knowing that wandering eyes catching him in lost moments of weakness would undoubtedly find their way back to Slade. His master would not be pleased that Dick wasn't able to keep up public appearances. He knew that his gut instinct wasn't wrong and that the Flash or Kid Flash was most likely present somewhere. He was hesitant to bother Slade, knowing that the man had excused him for more than the mercy of escaping Vandal Savage’s hunting attention. I’ll deal with him myself, Dick thought with steely resolve. Dick forced a deep breath, knowing it wouldn’t truly help but requiring a placebo to make him think so at least. Dick pulled on his jacket lapels to smooth them and fixed his loosening cufflinks; clicking them tighter to his wrist. He turned to make his way over to Luthor, preferring to speak to him rather than Prime Minister Haba to get ahold of the head of his security when he ran into someone. 

Dick let out an uncouth, “Ooompf” as his surprise took him by the balls. He’d had no idea anyone was so close to him. The person was a great deal shorter but dressed like any other man in the room. Dick didn’t try to hide the scathing tone coating his tongue, “Excuse me-”

Dick stopped short as the person reached out and clutched his wrist in an utter death grip, forcing him to look down into familiar narrowed green eyes. Dick stared back with wide eyes as his youngest brother grabbed him tight enough to leave bruises beneath the expensive watch Slade had slipped onto his wrist. For a few moments, they watched each other and Dick found himself absorbing every detail he’d missed in the past 27 months. From the small growth spurt to the defined jaw, shorter lashes, and fuller lips. Damian was leaving his childhood looks in the past, and edging the line of what he’d grow to look like in manhood. He obviously had some more growing to do as he was barely 17 and Bruce’s own stature demanded that his son come close. Damian looked to be around 5 foot 9, maybe 5 foot 10 at the moment and Dick found his heart-wrenching in the most painfully opposing directions as he realized that he hadn’t been there to mark his last few inches. Damian’s head was about to his chin, whereas last he’d seen him he stood at his chest.

I've missed a lot

Damian squeezed him tighter, a stinging pain bringing him back to his senses. Dick’s eyes lept to Luthor, hoping to confirm he hadn’t seen Damian, only to be further surprised when he spotted Luthor conversing with Bruce Wayne. Dick felt his heart stutter as he realized the entire team and family had followed them from the UK in record time.

“I’m only going to say this once” Damian hissed, recapturing Dick’s attention, “You will follow me and follow me quietly so that we may go home and address any outstanding mental or physical issues plaguing you”

Dick offered a slight smile, but Damian only narrowed his eyes, “Damian, what are you doing here?”

“Do not play coy with my Richard, you know full well what we are doing here. I-we are here for you and you are obligated to return with us. Now”

Dick cocked his head, “I am?”

Damian was all but seething, “This is not a joke. Richard, we must go now. Father can only distract Luthor and Queen Bee for so long”

At their mention Dick found his gaze dragging back to Bruce. He could barely make him out through the crowd on the opposite end of the room, clad in a ridiculously expensive suit and Oxfords, “I am surprised you aren’t trying to be more subtle. What with Wally running around here”

The corners of Damian’s eyes twitched briefly before he smothered his shock, “Enough, we're done. Stop trying to make conversation and stall. Come, now” Damian tugged Dick towards the length of the staircase and towards the main entrance but Dick only allowed him a few steps before pulling them to a stop, “You’ve gotten so big, Damian. How are you?”

Damian bared his teeth and forced his voice into a forceful hush, “I’m not joking Richard. We need to go. Now”

Richard smiled and reached out with his free hand to caress Damian’s cheek, just to feel his brother, but stopped short as Damian pulled away by a hair’s width. Dick stopped and he couldn't stop the cold anger from prioritizing itself, “I won’t hurt you. I don’t care what Bruce has been telling you. I would never hurt you, Damian”

Damian’s cheeks heated and his eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done, “I-I know” he whispered and took a step closer as if to prove so to both of them, “Father hasn’t been saying anything, truly. But you tried to hurt Crock. I-I am unsure as to how safe you are to yourself and others at the moment. I know your intentions would never be detrimental though. I do”

Dick looked around, spotting the back of Kaldur’s head as he passed a waiter, “I don’t know what they told you but I’d like to reference the fact that I was being shot at up until Jason caught us in quite the compromising position”

“Todd saw you about to stab Artemis, Richard”

“Exactly” Dick wagged a finger in Damian’s face, “About to, is the keyword. But I never did and Jason still shot me, rather rude don't you think?”

“Richard?” Damian’s voice cracked in desperation, “Why won’t you come? I need you to come with me!”

Dick’s expression faltered at the sound of his almost adult brother sounding very much his age. He bent down until their foreheads nearly touched, “You don’t need me Damian. You’ve never needed me. Besides!” he bounced back up straighter their moment of intimacy evaporated, “I’ve got a pretty long to-do list to take care of” he said with a charming grin.

“Murder?” Damian spat, “Like De Longe? Who’s next? Cobb? Roan Damarask? Yassen Gretchovin?”

Dick’s eyes flared in a thunderously dark manner, “How do you know those names?”

Damian scoffed, “Don’t underestimate Drake, Richard. We’ve all been working overtime since you decided to abandon us”

Dick’s lips twisted and he fought the urge to bare his teeth, bend down, and seeth in the egotistical boy’s face until he coward like all his other victims, “I didn’t abandon anybody Damian” he closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath, focusing on the burning pinching pain of his watch beneath Damian’s grip, “I chose something for myself” An enlightened light flickered through his bright blue eyes, highlighting the small rivers of white and faire, faire blue, “For once in my life, I made a decision based solely on my needs and wants; something nobody has ever wanted”

Damian looked horrified, “How can you say that? No one would ever deny you your free will to choose!?”

Dick smirked down at Damian, “And yet, I’ve got a handful of superheroes chasing after me to stop me from doing what I wish while the other half are trying to place me on the international most wanted list for enhanced persons”

Damian gaped, “Father will never let them! How do you know about that?”

Dick smiled innocently in return, “Don’t underestimate me Damian. It was good seeing you. Tell Tim and Jason I said hi” he moved to walk past Damian when the younger boy squeezed even tighter, pulling back on Dick’s wrist, “What’s happened to you? This is not my brother- What has Deathstroke convinced you to follow through with? Your eyes aren’t yellow or anything either”

Dick stared down at where Damian had his wrist captive before reaching down to where Damian’s hands were collapsed over him. Damian watched with guarded eyes as Dick laid his free over his captured one and quickly snapped his thumb socket to the right, causing the whole appendage to dangle freely. Damian’s eyes took on a stunned, aghast expression and he dropped Dick’s hand out of fear of hurting him any further. Dick bit his lip as he took the thumb and shoved it back against his hand with a strained hiss. Damian reacted, disgusted as the thumb popped and cracked before Dick was able to flex it slightly. Dick grinned, “Just sprained now. Should be good to go in another few minutes. Now…” he turned and scanned the attendees around them. 

Dick spotted a waiter and snapped his fingers sharply, catching the older man’s attention. The waiter approached them with a cautious polite expression and dipped his head, “Sirs…?”

Before Damian could react, Dick snatched Damian by the back of his collar and thrust him against the waiter, “Would you like to explain why I caught this young man being offered drinks when he is obviously underage?”

Damian stammered and tried to resist the choke hold his older brother had on his collar, “What?! Richard?!”

The waiter’s eyes flew wide and his brow collapsed into a fretful expression, “I-I am so sorry sir, please forgive me. I assume the staff was under the impression that all guests were of drinking age and I-”

“Next time, you’d best not assume when it pertains to Bruce Wayne’s wards, yes?” he breathed heavily in the man’s face.

“I was not drinking!”

The waiter gasped and trembled against Dick’s aggressively cold features, “O-of course sir. You are so right, I’ll make sure this is addressed with whoever made this egregious mistake. I’ll ensure it doesn’t happen again”

Dick sneered, “One time is too many. I’ll be following up with the kitchen and service staff. You’d best hope there is a solution to be had because offering alcohol to underage boys from out of the country at a gathering this grand is something that has severe consequences…Sir”

The waiter swallowed and nodded frantically.

“Richard! Stop this-”

“Richard” All 3 of them turned to spot Slade Wilson making his way down the stairs, his deadly single eyes narrowed on the scene before him, “I believe I instructed you to go mingle and enjoy yourself. What should I make of this?”

Dick dipped his head in greeting, “I was merely ensuring that certain guests don’t get ahead of themselves because of staff carelessness”

Slade raised a single eyebrow as he pulled one sleeve straight, “is that so?”

Dick glanced up the stairs to see Vandal Savage standing stoically on the top landing, “Indeed” he replied, dragging his attention back to Slade. Slade approached them, smirking at the way Damian aggressively tensed under his approach and tried to step closer to his brother. He placed a hand on Dick’s shoulder, intimately close to the curve of his neck, “I believe our business is done for the night” he remarked casually.

Dick nodded, “Good, let’s go. I’ve not enjoyed myself” Damian looked conflicted between bristling like an angry kitten and simpering at the cold remark.

“Are you sure? I think I’ve stopped some familiar stragglers about the crowd tonight” Slade purred in Dick’s ear as he looked at Damian over his shoulder. The boy looked like a ruffled bird, fluffed up with agitation.

“I’m sure,” Dick said coldly and stiffly.

Slade hummed, “Very well” His single eye was dawn across the crowd to where Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor were conversing, “I guess we can leave Wayne to whatever topics were so incredibly important to bring up tonight with our host”

Dick was also watching but didn’t reply, instead moving towards the exit without a parting glance at Damian.

“Richard!” Damian objected, only to be held back by the waiter, “Sir, I really must insist we get you over to the staff to identify who allowed you a drink and then I’ll leave you with Mr. Wayne”

“He’s lying! You dolt!”

Dick heard Damian’s voice vanish into the crowd as he left them behind, Slade trailing at his back like a shadow-given life. They were within arms reach of the doors when Wally stepped out from behind someone and stopped Dick with a hand on his inner arm, “Don’t” he warned lowly. His green eyes jumped from Dick to Slade every few seconds. Dick grinned and a manic light entered his eyes. Almost like he was reaching his limit of what he could handle patiently, but found his near break in control humourous, even to himself. Dick patted the hand on his arm and leaned into Wally’s ear, “You have no fucking idea how many snipers I have pointed at and how many heads. Right. This. Second”

Wally froze and his gaze searched Dick’s to confirm the threat, his eyes were desperate for a code of some sort in Dick’s word choice. Dick rolled his eyes and pulled his grip from Wally’s, “Stop chasing after me Walls. This isn’t tag and we aren’t 14”

He brushed passed the stunned speedster and could only imagine the pleased look Slade had plastered across his face as Dick dealt with the obstacles that kept popping up in their way. The threat of armed gunmen prepared and at the ready might stall his friends and family long enough to put some measurable distance between them for now.  Finally, Dick was able to reach the exiting doors and grasped the handle. He looked back to say something to Slade when he spotted Jason beside Wally, a hand to his ear; most likely communicating in real-time to the rest of the team. Jason was staring him down, verging on a glare, but not quite simmering enough. Wally’s lips moved but Dick disregarded them and whatever conversation they were having. He grabbed Slade’s wrist, not unaware of the way Wally and Jason’s eyes immediately tracked the movement. With one last smirk towards the two young adults, Dick opened the door and exited pulling Slade with him in a show so significant he hoped Bruce could feel it across the room.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

“We’re not gonna succeed if we keep going at this like Dick needs rescuing,” Jason said under his breath, watching Dick sneer and smirk back at them before pulling Deathstroke after him. The large well-fitted man was all too pleased to be tugged after the leaner figure.

“Dick doesn’t need saving” Wally replied as he watched them as well, “This is now a capture and contain situation. Once Dick has his right mind back, all this shit is gonna hit him full force and that’s when we can save him…until then-”

“Yeah,” Jason said bluntly and disgruntled.

The stained glass wooden door closed and Jason couldn’t contain his curse, noticing how some guests gave him disgusted side eyes and moved away from their vicinity. He'd watched Dick as Damian confronted him, offering the same boyish charm he gave to everyone Dick didn’t want to gift his true feelings to; keeping them at arm's length with smiles and sweet words. Dick seemed agitated that they were here, which all things considered, was understandable if the guy was trying to get away from them but Jason was still secretly hoping to see a glimmer of hope or relief. Even anger would be better if Dick was trying to coral Slade into some sort of corner, opening the opportunities for the Justice League to finally arrest the long-time criminal.

No, Dick seemed annoyed and agitated, like the lot of them were pestering ex-girlfriends who were convinced that their break was a break and not a break up. Damian had managed to wrench himself away from the waiter and order him away. The staff attendant finally listened after seeing Dick leave the premises. Damian stomped over to Wally and Jason and Jason spotted Kladur and Artemis edging around their field of vision as backup.

“So your little plan of just grabbing and demanding didn’t work after all?”

Damian sneered and crossed his arms, “Richard is not within his right mind. I assumed he would listen to reason, but I was incorrect. There must be more at play here”

“Yea, no shit” Wally muttered as shifted from foot to foot. The moment he’d passed Dick near the balcony, he’d run to get Jason and Tim, telling them he’d seen Dick somewhat isolated on the main floor. Jason made his way over before Damian stopped him and demanded a chance to speak with him. Jason allowed it as Bruce was still keeping Luthor well preoccupied for now, but their plan had gone to shit. Jason had seen it. The way Dick’s eyes frosted over and his lips curved into a sharp frown when Damian stepped away; not that anyone could blame the kid. They were trying to track down a stranger with their brother’s face and eyes. 

“We need to re-group now and actually do something that’s going to make a difference” Jason was glaring holes through the main entrance doorway, “This was stupid and a waste of time. Dick didn’t do anything but catch on to how much we know and that we’re definitely tracking them now”

Wally nodded, “How though? Bruce is still talking with Luthor and I just saw Vandal Savage at the top of the stairs. If we pull out now it’ll be too suspicious and Slade knows we’re following them now. He’ll be better at covering their tracks or moving sporadically”

Jason breathed out through his nose heavily, his chest still tight and weighed down by the building pressure and stress this was causing him. He was fortunate that the Pitt’s influence seemed minimal tonight, “We need to get word to everyone, and then Bruce, and start a slow inconspicuous extract” Jason ordered Damian and Wally, “Then we need to re-group, get on board with the fact that we can’t play goose with Dickhead anymore, and make a real shot at those two assholes”

Wally sighed, his fists clenching and unclenching, “I could follow them now, to keep tabs” he suggested, “Tracking them down next will be way harder. I know we have Tim’s list and all but there are so many names they could be going after and now they know to try and throw us off their trail too”

“No need,” Damian said. His eyes were narrowed in a hyper-focused way that made Jason's hackles raise, “I didn’t grab Richard just to appear clingy. I placed a tracker on him”

Jason found himself fortunately surprised, “Where? His clothes? They’ll ditch those the instant they're on the move again. Slade might even burn them, the paranoid freak that he is”

Damian nodded, “I placed one on the side of his watch and I placed a leftover skin tag on his wrist”

Wally looked at Jason with stunned features, Jason looked back to the 17-year-old, “Holy shit, kid. That’s good thinking”

Damian narrowed his eyes, “I know” he snapped, “Now go collect the others, I will alert Father that we need to be on the move soon. At least now we are not in a rush as the skin tag will take a few days to fall off Richard’s skin, unless he notices it beforehand”

“I doubt it, Bruce said it’s special to Wayne tech only- a Lucious special. Slade won’t be prepared for it when they ditch their shit and clean up”

“Great, now we just need to help get the old man away from the fucking bald douchebag without causing a scene”

 

Chapter 8

Notes:

Hey! Sorry, a quick note of clarification. The spy in the last chapter is just the spiders that Klarion can summon and control.

“Why did you tell your brother and your friend that we had snipers on them?” Dick looked over at Kris. Her eyes were the only soft thing about her. Her high cheekbones, prominent muscles, and her short brutish haircut made it clear what kind of life she did not lead, “What? I can’t tell white lies anymore?”

She narrowed her eyes and pursued her lips in a way that screamed all the ways she wanted to put him in his palace but couldn’t because Slade hadn’t officially left the vicinity yet.

“Ooooooooh, Dickie, You’ve done it now. Kris is gonna whoop your ass”

She turned to Jacks quickly and grabbed his cheeks, squishing them tightly, “That’s sir to you” she said sharply, “The Colonel hasn’t left for the night; if he hears you talking that way to the kid, you’ll lose another finger”

Jacks pulled away and grumbled, looking down at his missing pinkie forlone. Kris and their other comrade Ronan knew exactly what kind of consequences any individual who crossed Deathstroke would face. Jacks had always been a jokester, gaining Dick’s attention and a few smiles too many. It wasn’t long until Deathstroke, the Colonel, couldn’t ignore his exceedingly high field and test scores. He promoted him to Dick’s team, under the watch of his apprentice alongside Kris from Yemen and Ronan from Ireland. Jacks hadn't taken Kris’ warnings seriously and laid a hand on Dick’s back at a night out drinking. Other reports corroborated after would conclude he’d also given Dick a noogie and intimate hugs, but no one would ever confront Deathstroke and ask how the man knew Dick had been touched at all.

Ronan and Kris helped a stumbling and inhibited Jacks and Dick later that next morning, guiding Dick’s lazy movements and dragging footsteps with the slightest of bumps behind gloves hands. Jacks was tossed over Ronan’s shoulder like the sack of potatoes he’d made himself out to be. Dick had been awoken to the feel of his master’s hand carding through his hair, running through his strand and scratching his scalp in a way that made him wonder if he had just managed to dream the most soothing reverie known to man. For a while, they sat in silence and Dick had half a mind to ask what his master wanted at 3 AM, but the words slipped out as sighs and content hums. Dick was almost back asleep when he registered a faint shrieking sound, it almost sounded like a broken fan or a pig. Dick pushed himself up, intent on investigating, when the hand in his hair tightened; halting Dick with an eerieness that woke him almost instantly. He stared at his cracked bedroom door, listening to the sound of shuffling feet and occasional screaming. He bolstered the will and confidence to drag his gaze just slightly up and just slightly right, finding his master’s cold focused gaze too easily. Dick licked his lips, preparing to ask, preparing to try and help however he could when Slade spoke, “How was tonight? I hear you got a little tipsy. I know it takes quite a lot to break past your electrum to do that”

Dick’s throat bobbed and he nodded, “It was nice, I don’t have a headache”

Slade nodded, “Good” he resumed stroking Dick’s dark locks. Dick watched the cracked door and the sliver of light as long as he could; almost like the shard of yellow allowed into his dark room physically held the screams he heard. Slade caressed him and touched him until he didn't remember anything but the following day. Dick found his teammates, and trainees, at breakfast the next day. Kris and Ronan both had haggard faces and sunken sleepless eyes, but Jacks ate with one spoon. His other hand was bandaged tight and completely white. Dick spent the next hour throwing up and he was never completely sure if it was from the unspoken standard that had been placed around all their throats, or if it was the fact that Dick only saw white the entire time he upheaved his stomach.

Dick glanced at Jacks’ missing finger but didn’t comment. He never did when the mercenary, man-made barriers between Dick and the rest of earth’s population were lade as clear as glass. Laid by Slade.

“It got them off my back didn’t it?”

“I’d say dragging the Colonel out of there like you were on your way to a date is what did it” Ronan commented. He was tall and soft-spoken compared to his comrades. An all-American boy if no one ever heard him speak or the way his southern Irish upbringing made it near impossible for him to pronounce the letter H. His strawberry blonde hair, bordering on more blonde than red, was always slicked back like he was conquering it that day by smothering any worries beneath gel. Dick blushed and his lips thinned, remembering how he’d grabbed Slade so casually but profoundly. He knew it would send a strong message and hoped that it would deter his brothers and friends, but secretly hoped to test their ‘unwavering loyalty’ to him by seeing if his disregard for them was enough to call it quits. It would be interesting moving forward.

Dick pushed himself to his feet and made his way over his duffle bag on the countertop against the wall. He pulled out his small pouch of bathroom necessities and plucked out the small container of compact blue. He dipped his pinkie in the powder and dragged it against the back of his tongue before gulping down half of his remaining water bottle.

“Be careful, you haven’t waited a full 24 hours”

Dick shot a scathing look over his shoulder, “Sir” he said coldly. She nodded, “Be careful about that, you haven’t waited a full 24 hours…sir”

Ronan smirked, “We’re only looking out for you, sir”

Dick smiled coldly, “No, you're obeying my master’s orders to keep me in line and keep tabs on my delicate health”

Ronan shrugged, “Doesn’t mean we can’t be happy that obeying orders means we keep you alive and well”

Dick tossed his blue container back onto the counter and leaned against the ledge, dropping his head below his shoulders in a heavy huff. Dick was about to snap back at them when the door opened and Slade stepped in, clad in his official Deathstroke regalia. His mask was newly shined and he wore new, tight straps to carry a knife, smoke bomb, or handgun every 6 inches of his body. They all turned to look at the colonel. Jacks, Kris, and Ronan stood up with a nod of respect but Dick eyed his mentor, eager to know what their next step was, but not eager enough to ask.

Slade stood with his legs slightly apart and his hands held loosely behind his back in a proper militia stance. His single cold blue eye observed the young adults in the room with an unnerving astuteness. He seemed to find nothing worth critiquing so he turned his head slightly towards his apprentice and Dick knew to follow immediately. Not just from the last 2 years of being in the man’s near-constant presence, but moreso from being so overwhelmed and integrated with the man’s existence and personal habits that he couldn’t not learn to see and feel his body cues at some point. Dick had nonconsensually come to know Slade Wilson very, very well. His twitches and sighs, the way he propped up his knee when he was annoyed and irritated, versus how he crossed his ankles when he was feeling playful. The man liked his coffee black and refused to tell anyone outside of him and Wintergreen that he enjoyed 2 spoons of sugar. Slade enjoyed sleeping in exactly 1 hour after a successful mission and hated anything processed. Dick knew the one-eyed predator like his own reflection. And right now, Slade’s singular eye told him to go to him.

Dick nodded to his master and proceeded forward without a glance towards the others. Dick moved to walk past him and down towards Slade’s temporary room when the man’s hand shot out and gripped his chin. Dick froze, fearing that Slade’s building ire over how he dealt with his family would come to a break now, but the man merely tipped his head to the left and right, roaming his face in search of something beyond Dick’s guessing.

Slade hummed and let go, his fingers and palm trailing his adams apple, “Go. I’ll join you soon” was all he said. Dick obeyed.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to his children and their teammates shuffle about the ship. They were cleaning up each other, their packed belongings, and anything that would afford them more room to work and plan. Bruce had just ended a more private meeting with Tim, Damian, and Jason; letting them know how his conversation with Luthor had gone. Bruce wasn’t able to discern if Luthor was surprised by his sudden appearance but humored his presence very well. Bruce was worried that Ra’s would have informed Luthor or let it leak in some way to pose a greater challenge to their team and agenda, but nothing had crescendoed last night, fortunately. They’d discussed some basic frivolous stuff and Luthor had introduced Queen Bee as a sponsor and international delegate from North and West Africa. Bruce was aware that something was taking palace to his right but decided not to intervene when guests didn’t cause a fuss although Bruce wasn't pleased at all to hear what had happened and how Dick had acted. He’d informed his sons that he wanted to err on the side of caution moving forward and proceed as if Luthor knew everything, just as they did. Both sides playing oblivious and blind up until their opponent faltered or let something valuable slip.

Bruce had informed everyone that their official mission had altered slightly, that it wasn’t up for debate anymore. No one had protested outwardly when Bruce announced that Dick was now a capture and contain mission, no longer safe or predictable enough to be considered a rescue and retrieval. Many faces pinched and deformed under the stress and despair the new mission standards set upon all of them, but no one objected, dispersing to let the Robins and their Batman discuss further. Bruce wasn’t blind to how Jason’s frosty demeanor against his presence seemed to be melting little by little. He wasn’t so foolish as to call it out and cause another rift but he was glad and aware of it all the same. Jason had only spoken to him a few times and it had been directed at Tim or others at the same time, but Bruce could easily make out how Jason’s adversity to making eye contact or offering a sneer and a lip curl to every encounter was fading. Bruce wasn’t sure if Jason was reigning himself in for the betterment of the mission and Dick’s wellbeing or if Jason was holy unaware of his own shifting behavior.

“So you think that all those rich asshats were there and knew what they were there for?” Jason asked skeptically. He was cleaning his gun, an obvious excuse for his eyes to lay their attention elsewhere whenever he answered his adopted father directly.

Bruce shook his head, “No. While they all had extremely high networths, I don’t think they knew the true reason they were there for. Luthor kept selecting certain words that made me think he hand-picked everyone there for a reason. Whether it be their connection to a company or their investment ties to significantly key players”

“Luthor was putting out feelers for something,” Tim said as he stared at his laptop with a highly focused expression, his bottom lip red and puffy from biting too often.

Bruce nodded, “I’m not sure if the plan is ever to be truthful with them or to use their funds for whatever connection earned them an invite but it was more than just a party”

“That’s obvious” Damian muttered, still highly upset.

“I think it might be a combination,” Tim said as they all ignored Damian, “He might be trying to determine who is gullible, but trustworthy, and who needs to be kept in the dark but with their bank account open and available”

Bruce agreed, “Most likely”

“What could those airhead board members and nepo-babies offer Luthor? The man is already too egotistical to accept a partner; even his assistant is a man-made robot”

“Not Luthor. The light” Jason said to Damian, now picking at his cuticles with a knife that earned him a frown from Bruce.

Bruce grunted and turned back to his youngest Robin, “Jason’s right. I suspect that everyone in attendance had something to offer the light, whether through connections, information, or pure finances alone” 

“Savage seemed to be taking advantage the same Luthor was by inviting Deathstroke for some sort of offer,” Tim said. Bruce fell quiet in a way that garnered his sons’ rapt attention. Tim’s and Damian’s eyes became lit with attentiveness, but Jason’s darkened with distrust.

“Ra’s did inform me, after the night ended without disruption, that Vandal Savage requested the support of the Light and their cumulative finances to contract Deathstroke and his student full time”

Jason’s eyes narrowed and his form became overly tense, Bruce worried he would knick himself too deeply, “You already spoke to Ra's?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded, “He contacted me last night when we were making our way back. I believe he saw it as some sort of reward for implementing the mission cleanly and safely. Despite it being an overall failure”

Damian nodded like he had any grounds to say whether or not it sounded like the Grandfather he had renounced his ways from, “So Vandal Savage wants Deathstroke close in some way and the Light supports it. This just gives more credibility to the belief that Richard plays some significant role in a larger plan for the Light”

Tim nodded and opened his laptop. His fingers flew across the keyboard in a clicking sound that soothed Bruce’s pounding temple rather quickly. Tim muttered under his breath, recording everything they’d confirmed and everything they were beginning to suspect when suddenly, he froze. Bruce watched his second youngest gnaw on his lip in intense contemplation; a habit Dick got on Tim for but never Bruce. Damian saw his father watching Tim and turned to watch the other with narrowed eyes as if offended he'd been left out of the implied loop, “What?” Damian demanded of Drake.

“I-I think we might be able to confirm some of our suspicions sooner rather than later”

Jason rolled his eyes and his wrist, “Mind explaining, replacement?”

“Queen Bee,” Tim said, his tone unforgiving of Jason’s nickname, "She has multiple bases all over the world. We know this and we know there are some we haven’t target locked on our maps yet, but” He pulled up a League-affiliated map and spun it around to show an area between their group at the edge of the Middle East and an area just northwest of Egypt, “We do know there is a very small, single manned base right around here”

“And?” Jason challenged, “It’s never even been raided because there are like 3 interchanging men there to man the whole thing. The league thinks it's a supply base, not an operations base”

Tim nodded, “Yeah, that’s what we think…because we’ve never raided it or confirmed it. Superman’s never even flown close enough to confirm the underground contents”

“You think the minimal manpower is a diversion ploy for something more significant?” Bruce asked as he stared at the laptop screen. Tim nodded, “Probably, maybe. Look, it might be a huge waste but last night was already a huge failure and we not only need a win for motivation, but we need new info. We’re surviving off of theories; good theories, but nothing proven. Besides, if they don’t have anything substantial that we can take, I can at least connect to her system to copy it for future reference. I can duplicate any files I can access from this base as well. It’s not for certain but I think it’s a safe bet that each of her bases and systems would be set up to access her mainframe in some way. It’s a risky method but overall much more convenient for someone who never stays in one palace for long”

Damian huffed but Tim ignored him, “I think that we need to add a stop before we leave the area completely. I’m still working on syncing with the pin Damian dropped in Dick’s clothing and until you can access the skin tag marker he pasted on his wrist then we’ve got nothing but clean up to do” Tim gestured behind him where Wally was walking to place things away, his shoulders heavy and weighed down.

“This is a big risk so soon after interacting with them-”

“And worth the risk” Tim cut Bruce off, “Queen Bee hosted with Luthor for a reason. She wasn’t just there as a pretty side piece, she obviously plays a larger part in this than we might’ve assumed. Ra’s said that Queen Bee was even at this meeting with Vandal and filled him in after. She’s taking a bigger step forward and I’m not sure if it’s just because or if she’ll seek to profit a ton off whatever they’re planning”

“Ok, ok, say we do this. What are we even doing? Raiding her base and taking out 2 guys?” Jason pointed out, “She’s bound to have security we haven't vetted before. This can go to shit so fast-aren't you supposed to be the cautious one?”

Tim appreciated Jason’s subtle attempt at humor, “I know” he replied calmly, “But we need to put all our resources towards this to get in and out quickly and make the biggest profit off information. We can have Megan and Babs check satellite records to make sure Queen Bee never arrived here before continuing, but we can have half our team stand guard and be at the ready outside while we go in and steal every bit of data possible. This could be a big win for us”

For a few moments, they sat in silence listening to the back of the ship bustle with feet and moving objects. Jason was tempted to be very unhelpful and comment on how they shouldn’t be waiting on Btman’s approval for the mission to proceed. Tim was the primary organizer of the mission and their members. He’d made it clear to Bruce that they were going to proceed without him but would prefer his input and help if possible; drawing a line between their mission parameters and Bruce’s dictatorship. Tim had been the one to want this bad enough and yet there they were waiting on Bruce’s final say. Jason didn’t speak, hoping he was wrong and that Tim was waiting on Bruce more for the value of his input than his actual approval. Eventually, Bruce nodded and Damian seemed to inflate with motivation, needing to do something, succeed at something that offered him a greater advantage in this struggle for, and against, Richard, “Alright" Bruce said, nodding more and more, as if the plans were physically piecing themselves together before his eyes, “This will be good for us to gather information, but even better for us to determine how connected Queen Bee is to Vandal Savage and Cobb. We already know the connection between Luthor and Cobb is all but definite but this will solidify the connection between Cobb and the Light is more than just and overall with Luthor"

Tim’s face seemed to narrow in extended focus and concentration, “We don’t want to be stupid but we need to expedite this if we’re gonna be successful, fast, and out of the region by the time they notice; like yesterday quick”

Jason nodded and clicked his butterfly knife closed. He slid his gun from his lap to the backs of his jeans and pushed himself to his feet like he was a gruff man 30 years his senior, "Chop chop people!” he called. He stopped and turned to Tim with a charming smile, “I’ll allow you to make the announcement” before sauntering off towards his personal bag on the far back right.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Ok, we’re headed in,” Tim said to the second half of their team acting as back and reinforcements. “Copy” multiple voices replied over their comms line. Tim, Jason, Batman, and Damian were going in under Tim’s orders. He’d justified it as them all being much more familiar with each other’s movements and behaviors so they’d be able to be discreet with less obvious communication. Wally had protested so Tim allowed him to roam around outside undercover to act as a quick messenger, or first resort of backup, if things were south for whatever reason. Artemis, Kaldur, and Roy were stationed back on the ship and idling in the air above them to track any incoming flights or metas.  Despite her arguments with Bruce, Barbara had taken a step back to see her father for the day and prepare for patrol the same night. She’d been working closely with Megan who felt comfortable enough with the Bat’s technology to offer reliable surveillance and airfield scans of anyone incoming from their satellite connections. So far, it appeared that Queen Bee was either still in Jordan or making her way elsewhere.

Tim religiously watched his handheld device from where it was connected by two simple HDMI and USB cords to the side of the entrance panel. The building was simple and small to the outside environment of dustbrush and lizards. The team knew that beneath the inside of their targeted building was at least 4 floors deep and fully equipped with maintenance that one wouldn’t expect from the sparse connections in the middle of nowhere. His small screen blinked before the cords made a snapping sound the entrance keypad lit up like someone had successfully scanned their hand. Tim looked to Batman, Robin, and Redhood, who stood behind him in a protective half-circle. Tim couldn’t ignore the way his attention snagged on Damian. His shoulders had filled out and broadened with age and training but besides the towering shadows of Batman and the hulking Redhood, he seemed less like a child and more of a shorter adult. It didn't help that Damian had mastered the Batman scowl by age 14. He nodded to them and received nods of confirmation back. The moment Tim withdrew the cables, the main entrance slid open, disappearing into the wall on their right. A light flickered on and Redhood slid up beside Tim to peer inside. Damian shined the flashlight all around, and the first floor appeared to be a long dark entrance that ended with an elevator of some sort. 

“Well let’s go!” Redhood said, his deep voice muffled behind his visor.

Their group proceeded forward, peering around every now and then for anything to jump out at them or to trigger an unknown alarm. They made it to the elevator and down to the first floor relatively easy. Tim didn’t like it. He held up his palm and rotated it to sign the Bat code for ‘be cautious’ as the doors opened. The room before them was much larger and held a screen or a monitor for reporting and recording data at least every 5 feet. Enormous sports bar-sized TVs layered the back wall as well. Tim stepped out, a Batarang poised between his fingers. He followed forward in a hunched position, only confident that his brothers and dad were following him when he heard the slightest hush of a cape. While the outer edge of the rooms was lined with monitors and equipment, the center of the room was slightly deeper. A staircase of 5 steps led down into a pit with chairs and desks scattered across the floor. Tim stopped just as he was taking the first step and signaled furiously and silently to the far right. Everyone jerked to see an older man leaning against the wall. His feet were propped up on a spare desk and he was leaned back slightly so his eyes were closed and his mouth agape in his sleep. Despite his balding, older nature, the man was dressed in a green military uniform with at least 4 medals splayed across his left breast. Tim wasn’t sure what religion the man’s uniform represented but it certainly wasn’t Queen Bee’s region of Biyalia and they didn’t have time to speculate. Before anyone could communicate an appropriate next step, Jason had whipped out his gun, clicked the safety off, and shot the man in the chest. His eyes flew open at the sharp pain before they drifted closed and he slumped further into his reclined position.

“Redhood” Batman barked aggressively. Redhood popped out one hip, “What? They’re sedatives. It’s no big deal. The guy’s gonna wake up and we’ll be long gone”

Tim relaxed when he heard the man wasn’t dead and scanned the room, “I think we’re clear” he said.

“That can’t be it,” Damian said, “There must be at least 3 more. A 1 manned base is the most idiotic investment to ever be thought up. There aren’t even cameras!”

Tim smirked, grateful for the things Damian was complaining over, “Queen Bee is a different kind of snake” he said as they made their way deeper into the room. He pulled out another device for decoding, this one without a screen, “She likes to go the more subtle way. There aren’t any cameras so we need to assume that every single keystroke will be recorded. There’s also probably some sort of audio placed around the room but I don’t see anywhere they could be connected so it’s probably a type of system where she can listen in on someone she knows is actively here”

“Still…Pathetic” Damian sneered, “They’ll know we took copies of their data anyway”

Tim shook his head as he connected to one of the monitors, “This decoding dax will basically make the coding system listen to me but give the computer a fuzzy memory. It won’t be able to pull any keys trokes or directives later on. As for any other security measures she might have, we can just have Kid place a small EMF everywhere so whatever audio recording she might be able to get will be unusable”

Damian crossed his arms but allowed Tim to work. Without turning around he said, “Robin, Redhood, go check around and look for any paper copies of data or evidence. Something we'd need to take pictures of. Keep your gloves on, we’re all sweaty so we might leave fingerprints”

Redhood saluted, “Yes Mom” before walking off, an exaggerated sway to his cargo-clad hips. Tim watched his own reader, waiting for the moment his electronic footsteps would be covered so he could start downloading copies of everything.

“How much can that hold?” Batman asked.

“5 terabytes” Tim answered. Batman grunted his approval, “Ok, I’m in” Tim announced. He dragged a keyboard over from one of the man monitors and began typing before he froze and bit his lip, “Can you help? I might be able to split the monitors so dual typing won’t confuse it”

Bruce nodded stepping up, “That might take too long, how much have you practiced with Cobra or Python coding?”

Tim bit his lip as he continued anyway, “Doesn’t matter. If I can split the screens so you can start duplicating data too, we’ll be out of here way faster”

Tim was vaguely aware of his older and younger brother fiddling with stuff in the background. A flash every now and then lit up his periphery. Tim was about to ask Batman to take over for the sake of efficiency when a small message popped up confirming that duplicate screens would now be extended screens. Batman, ever the diligent watchful eye, took over immediately, and they set to work downloading everything they could get their hands on.

“Everything ok so far?” Artemis asked over their comms. Jason answered for them, “Easy peasy lemon....”

Tim couldn't contain the small forced breath that escaped him in place of a full laugh. He heard Roy grumbling over comms, “I hate when he doesn't fucking finish stuff that rhymes”

“Actually,” Tim said, now typing with one hand to keep his comm communication priority, “Kidflash we’re gonna need you to grab the smallest emf disrupter you can find on board. When we’re done here, you gotta plant at least 2 in every room while we pack up and head back. Just to be safe”

“Got it,” Wally said. Tim easily fell back into the deafening buzz that typing too fast with a goal, most likely too hard, offered him. He’d be surprised if he didn’t develop carpal tunnel by Bruce’s age, although he didn’t have to look at the actual keyboard anymore. Hadn’t had to since his 2nd year as Robin. Batman’s pinky froze for a second before he resumed typing and Tim glanced over at his hunched form, “What? You found something?”

“Maybe” Batman answered. Tim tried to steal a glance as he downloaded everything from smallest to largest, running it by the now-extended computer to ensure they didn’t duplicate information and waste time. Because everything he was taking was so small, maps, and contacts, and such, there wasn’t anything large to really look at. No correspondence or pictures. A great deal of their findings might just turn out to be old crimes already committed and passed off to someone else. Something the JL wouldn't be able to pin on her but something they’d need to have on file nonetheless. Tim looked over again, noting how Bruce had slowed; not to the point of stopping but enough for his intake speed to be noticeable. Tim’s eyes caught on the face of Superman just long enough for his own work to halt, “What’s that?” he breathed. It was an enormous document that had been edited over and over again and scanned into their system. Notes, far too small to read were coupled with a picture of Superman and multiple notes about Kryptonian lifeforms”

“That could be anything,” Tim said, “Luthor’s always been obsessed with Superman. Look at what he did just to clone Connor”

Batman didn’t respond and Tim looked back only to freeze at a new page of the same document. Across the top were some sort of strange results from at least a decade of behavioral testing with different diluted injections. Tim’s eyes frantically ate up the document, looking for any reason to further disregard whatever Bruce had stopped on and get back to his own work, but he couldn't. Further down on the page, Kryptonian lifeforms were mentioned again but this time an image was attached alongside it. It was a strange green lizard-like animal with legs that reflected a centipede and the eyes of a spider; except these eyes were closed. The dead animal was laid out on a small exam table and its belly was cut open, half its organs missing. The next image just below it showed half of the 6 green legs and a vial of greenish-blue liquid, dark and murky.

“Are they taking that thing’s blood?”

“This could wreak havoc” Batman murmured as he took in everything he could read, “Behavioral experiments, suggested compulsion, mental trance extended exhibits-” Bruce was murmuring his readings out loud.

Tim balked aghast, “Can that thing affect people’s behavior? Like what a truth serum or suggestive hypnotics?”

“We need to get everything,” Batman said, “Now” he scrolled past it and forced a download, taking a copy of the data. Tim nodded and finished up his next batch just as he heard Jason and Damian returning, “We checked downstairs. Nothin but boxes of old uniforms., Everything fun is up here”

Tim didn’t reply but no one faulted him for it. He was another 2 minutes into copying, duplicating, and more when he heard Jason’s sharp itnake. Tim whirled around, fearful of a new enemy but Jason’s eyes were on Tim’s screen. Tim looked, not realizing he’d started on a much bigger formatted document; they’d accumulated about 2.5 TB of data at this point. On the screen was a list that Tim had stared at enough to imprint it into his dreams, nightmares, and the back of his eyelids. It was the same list that he’d pulled off the French police headquarters in Paris after Adelle Reau’s death. The only difference was this version of the document had been altered. It was no longer a checklist of past Court of Owls meeting attendees, it was now a kill list. Beside every name was a small picture, usually a profile, taken by someone following the person in question. There were notes all over the document about their age and social influence, their financial standing, and how involved they were with their family, down to even their blood type. On the left side of every name and picture was a large stamped D-deceased. 

Tim’s eyes scanned as quickly as he could, knowing the other 3 members of his group were watching him and the computer just as diligently. Lin Huey was listed as dead, Barthalemu Yorien was listed as dead, and Zarai Pelluse and Adelle Reau; dead. Tim’s eyes found a familiar powder-covered face with dark lips and almond-crinkled eyes:  Song De Longe: Dead.

“They knew” Damian whispered.

“They sure as fuck know,” Jason said back in amazement. Tim almost wasn’t able to concentrate. This was their proof of connection. The proof that Queen Bee either knew or was more involved with the Court of Owls and their quickly dwindling board members. Tim couldn’t stop his brain from spitting out theories left and right as he struggled to continue copying everything in his digital pathway. Did this mean that Cobb was solely working with them and was throwing his old partners under the bus? Was this only proof that the Light had been tracking Dick and Deathstroke’s movements and actions? Was this evidence that the Light knew where and when Deathstroke would be but was letting everything play out until the perfect opportunity presented itself?

It was all too much.

“We-fuck-we gotta finish up and worry about what all this means later”

“What this means?” Jason barked a sardonic laugh, “This means the Light has been fucking hyper-aware of every fucking little thing every fucking step of the way! They knew that Slade took Dick, they know what Slade is trying to get Dick to do, they obviously have money invested in Dickhead but are letting him run around and play bad cop over international waters!” Jason’s voice rose, “They’re playing us and what’s worse? They’re playing Fuckiung Deathstroke- no one plays Deathstroke!”

Tim tuned on Jason in a snappy motion, “You don’t think I realized that?! What the hell am I supposed to do about it now?!”

“Redrobin’s right, we need to finish up, send in Kidflash, get to safe airspace, and then debrief…everything”

Jason was still fuming and Damian wasn’t far behind, “When will you finish?”

“Basically done now” Tim replied with half an absent mind, “Just need to disconnect everything well enough not to trigger anything” Tim checked with Batman before pulling the plug, coding in a Python encoder to put the computer back to sleep and re-merge everything before unplugging his few cables and marching off, “Flash, you can come in now. Do you have the EMF bomb?”

“Yeah,” Wally replied instantly, “They look like little grenades right?”

Tim furrowed his brow and shot Bruce a look, “Yes? I mean kind of but don’t bring in an actual grenade, dude”

“I told you they had grenades up here” Artemis snapped over their comms line.

“These guys don’t label shit! Anyway I think I have the right one it’ll be fine”

“You think?!” Tim asked as they took the elevator back up.

“It’s alright,” Kaldur said calmly, “I checked with him and am confident he selected the right ones. Real grenades have a distinct heat, even before activation”

“Thanks Aqualad”

“Of course”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“We have to tell them-”

“No” Bruce barked at Kaldur. Kaldur frowned, “Batman, this is all the evidence we need to start connecting the Light to bigger problems. Problems beyond us and Nightwing”

“This is Wing” Artemis said pointing at the digital evidence in Kaldur’s hands, “He kicked this off and now it’s all about him! Everywhere we go-he’s connected!”

Kaldur nodded, his brow set down and stony, “Which is exactly why we need to make this more known! Batman, these documents, articles, correspondences…they-they heavily imply that whatever this Kryptonian animal is” Kladur ran a hand through his already short hair, looking like he wanted nothing more than to raise his voice like the Dark Knight’s children always did, “It’s -it’s blood can affect people, control them. This is a natural mind-controlling agency. It’s some sort of biological hypnotic that they are learning to, or have, already weaponized”

Batman prowled closer to Kaldur, “You think, as a founding member of the Justice League, that I am unaware of the dangers and implications this discovery holds?”

Kaldur looked ready to bow out of his challenge to Batman but more so out of respect than belief and faith in Batman, “Then why are we not sharing this news with the Justice League this instant? We need not return home, just contact them via the ship or our extended comms-”

“I. Said. No” Batman growled. His timber nearly vibrated the walls of their stalled, floating ship. After a moment of tense heady silence, he said, “Not yet. We will within the next 48 hours, after we formulate our next plan and are headed to regather Dick”

Jason snorted, “I love seeing your priorities all fucked up but unable to admit it”

Tim frowned at both of them but his lips were distorted in sadness, “You think the JL will stop us if we tell them too soon?”

Bruce didn’t reply directly to Tim, “Clark will not allow this unsanctioned mission to continue without the Justice League. They will demand we shut it down or force us to. It is the most appropriate and logical course of action from their obligated roles”

“So what? We start a mission so the JL can’t interfere without putting us at risk, and then tell the JL? Superman will be furious when he discovers that Luthor has been housing and killing animals from Krypton”

Bruce didn’t respond; his eyes redrawn to where he’d displayed some of the most important information on the largest screens at the head of the ship. Within Queen Bee’s base, they had discovered that the Light, mainly through Luthor, had been experimenting on genetically re-surged life forms, brought back from DNA samples and traces from the meteors that had brought them, Superman, and Supergirl. One of those animals proved to have blood that dulls the natural neurocognitive synapses in human brains to the point of only retaining motor skills and basic senses like hearing and seeing. While nothing was proven before the eyes of the hero community, everyone could see that this was a walking disaster. The Light, at the very least, was aiming to develop some sort of serum from the blood of these animals that influenced people to the point of absolute obedience; mindless soldiers and slaves. Although they hadn’t found anything that reported what would signal someone under the effects to listen to one individual over another, there were obvious plans and experimental procedures designed to test certain things over others.

They had doctors' notes and researchers' commentary and references to videos-everything you could imagine. Bruce was truly bothered by the technological references. There were multiple referrals to notes and other software engineers about chips and chip usage. Human biome compatibility with electronic chips and the most ideal places for implants. It was a wild shot but Bruce was starting to speculate that maybe the human body could flush out the alien blood at some point so the Light was trying to integrate it into a chip for continual injection purposes; to extend the usage of their slaves. Bruce was hesitant to share this with the young adults and teens before him, but he suspected that Dick was who the Light wanted their first authentic guinea pig to be. Dick would essentially be a mindless super soldier if they implanted a chip into him. His ability to recover and stand back up had enormous potential for file usage and long-term durability. Bruce could only imagine what kind of limits Slade had forced Dick to work past, especially if his oldest really did have an extended lifespan now.

Bruce doubted anyone could survive a decapitation or internal combustion, amongst other gruesome options, but nonetheless, if his son could rise from a bullet shot within minutes. He was the perfect candidate for the Light to see their work in action, giving more standing to his belief that Dick was merely the first stepping stone. The Light would undoubtedly want hundreds, thousands of Richard Graysons. Bruce turned to Damian and Tim, “Confirm where Dick and Deathstroke are first. Then we plan”. Kaldur opened his mouth to protest again but Batman swept off with a flourish of his dark cape, stalking to the front. 

Jason turned to Damian, “So? Where is he?” he shot a spiteful look behind his shoulder, “The old man’s got a stick up his ass, well, a longer stick than usual I guess”

Tim was watching Bruce’s back with a guarded tensed expression but answered Jason nonetheless, “We know the region they’re headed to, but not their exact location yet”

“And?”

“It’s near Spain or France,” Damian said, giving Jason as much attitude as he could afford.

“What the fuck? But Zarai Pelluse and Adelle Reau were the only French people on the Court’s Board list, and they’re already” Jason made a sharp notion across the base on his neck.

“You think if we knew what Deathstroke was thinking, we’d be where we are?” Tim asked angrily. Jason glared back but didn’t push the younger boy.

“It may be another diversion,” Damian said as he studied their feet, “Richard's tracks have been broken up and overlaid with confirmed sightings and kills by Deathstroke”

“Wilson does love a good dollar sign” Jason sighed.

“This might be another contract he’s taken on. I can try scanning some of the European sites and airwaves for hits offered in Europe that sound like something Deathstroke would take, but they might get to their destination before I can pull the correct hit. And that’s if I can even access some of the more private listing sources”

Jason nodded, “Do what you can, knowing what they’re doing might still be helpful. I bet the old perv is trying to desensitize Dickhead to blood n' shit”

“He may be passed that,” Damian said lowly.

“What?”

Damian wretched up his head and snapped, “Richard has confirmed kills under his hand by the Court’s orders, he murdered a handful of men my mother sent after us, and we’ve yet to confirm if any of Deathstroke’s hits were done by Richard. Deathstroke may be well past the point of needing to entirely desensitize Richard”

Jason watched the youngest Robin but his eyes stayed dry and firm. Jason’s gaze slid to Tim who was already watching him. Jason let his head hang back in emotional exhaustion, “Is this cause Goldenboy wouldn’t go with you the other day? He ran from all of us, you know”

Damian’s cheek quivered before firming up, Jason wouldn't be surprised if Damian had just bitten his cheek, “He dislocated his thumb to get away from me. He is different and we need to expedite this mission so his healing is not too egregious”

“Yea, no shit” Jason saw how unappreciative Damian was of his blunt humor and sighed, “Listen brat, Dickie’s fucked up and we know it; hell he probably knows it. But the Court basically doesn't count because Bruce doesn't care how we take down those freaks as long as they’re the kind that can come back, and you should be glad that Dick saved you from your mom. I know you like her but I know her too. Dude, your mom's crazy, who knows what she had planned; plus she just dipped off the face of the earth, and now we’re finding out that her dad and the Light have some bigger play in motion. It’s-” Jason sighed again, feeling slightly overwhelmed, “It’ll be fine okay? Just fucking focus on Dick and the next time you see him, don’t give him an option okay? He can be as bratty as he wants when we get him home but we can't afford to give him any leeway anymore”

Jason found himself glancing at Tim almost to make sure he hadn't been too hard. Damian was always hard to judge. The boy wanted everything offered to him on an adult plate but certain things seemed to trigger him, causing childish tantrums and the inability to process things like the adult he’s always wished he was. Tim was nodding, looking at Damian, “He’s right” he reassured, “Dick can take a lot and we need to throw everything at him to get him under control and home before anything else. As for the murders, we can take care of that later too. Dick never held your past against you Damian, don’t start carrying double standards”

Damian balked, “I’m not!” he seemed to deflate just as quickly, “I-I just don’t like seeing how truly different he is. He-”

“We know,” Jason said calmly and Damian fell silent.

“So what's the plan?” Artemis asked, walking up to their group. 

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“That didn’t take long,” Slade remarked. Dick glanced at him from the passenger side of the Bently they were driving. Slade had allowed them casual wear as they prepped for their first mission from the Light. Savage had sent Slade a list of people and organizations he wanted disrupted permanently with the orders that they could manage the list however they saw fit, but that they’d still be getting orders to take out or complete other missions on a more time-sensitive basis. Slade was dressed in a white shirt that seemed far too hug his biceps far too much. One wrist was laid over the steering wheel while his other hand held his phone up for him to glance at periodically. Dick didn’t say anything but he knew Slade would continue or fill him in if he wanted to.

“Your little family and teammates took the bait”

“They went to her base? Is that why you told her to clear out all her closest locations?”

Slade offered a sly grin, “They must not be aware of all of her bases because they were tracked to the second closest location”

Dick wasn’t sure what to say at first, “What did they get? The data and information they took?”

“That remains to be seen. Their actions will tell us exactly how and why they're proceeding because of whatever they managed to steal”

Dick looked down at his thumb. It still throbbed like a phantom ghost pain but Dick wasn't sure if that was from the fact that he could still feel Damian’s death grip around his hand, or if he just wanted to remember the feeling of the skin contact. After Dick had pulled Slade away from the party, the man hadn’t let Dick leave his side for the next hour, not until Dick became too insistent on learning what was discussed in the meeting he’d been excused from.

“It has to do with Vandal Savage, doesn't it?”

Slade didn't reply.

“Why did he act like that towards me? I’ve never met him before……I know it was about me, or some of it at least. Was I why he offered a retainer contract to us?”

Slade eyes Dick from the side, “Careful pretty bird, you’re sounding pretty full of yourself. Not everything is about you”

Dick smirked back, “That’s a lie” he replied just as coyly, “At least when it comes to you”

Slade didn't reply but Dick saw the way his fingers twitched to tighten on the steering wheel, his features begging into something more vengeful and possessive. Something Dick was sure would make him never want to talk back; one of those sides to Slade that Dick knew the man didn't want to show him, lest he begin to fear his respectively returned obsession with the man even more.

“For now, I’ll tell you that the Bat found out about the symbiotic chips the Light developed”

Dick nodded, feeling slightly numb. They’d already been through this. Dick had already thrown a fit of outrage over the Light’s plan with the chips, only to be calmed and reassured by his master that if they could, they would stop it, “It doesn't serve me well to have all the angry rich assholes who contact me for jobs to be listening to someone else about where their money should go. Our goal is not to help the Light succeed with those chips, but this may present a unique opportunity for you” Dick shot a peculiar look at Slade, “While there’s a handful of things I still believe you need guidance on and another handful of things I won’t be letting you dictate quite yet, I want you to keep this in the back of your mind…If this is something you truly wish to prevent then it’ll be up to you to decide how, and when, and to what extent the Light is disabled from succeeding. I’ll support you apprentice; as long as it’s your mind at play here. Not anyone else’s”

“You know, the fact that you’re always pushing me to make decisions free of any other influence leaves just your influence, that’s still you swaying me to some extent”

Slade chuckled like Dick hadn’t brought up a viable point.

“You did well,” Slade said. He placed his phone in the cup holder and brought a hand up to Dick’s neck, his thumb swiping gently across his cheek, “You need to steel yourself, we’ll be seeing them soon”

Dick nodded, glad when Slade’s hold wasn’t dislodged from his movement, “I know” he murmured.

“Here,” Slade said, passing Dick a tablet, “Take a look at the first job we’ll be doing for the Light. Vandal dictated to my preference for how we handle this list and he” Slade said tapping the screen, “Is closest and has much less protection than he should”

 

Chapter 9

Notes:

Hey there! Here's the next chapter. Dick's a little in over his head and still cant see it lol

“Richard’s tracker hasn’t left Spain in the last 6 hours so I think we can assume they’re here to rest or to complete a hit” Damian reported to the room.

“Dick could’ve ditched his bag,” Roy said. He sat beside Jason with his feet kicked up in a spare chair. Tim shook his head, “The skin tag and the clothing clip that Damian smuggled onto Dick have tracked him to the same places in Spain. They landed in Madrid and have been in Barcelona ever since. The only disadvantage we have is that both trackers aren’t designed for exact coordinates, just general confirmation of the wearer’s location”

“So all we know is that they're in the city?” Artemis asked.

Tim nodded, “Pretty much but now that they have been here long enough for us to be certain, we can start shadowing them tonight”

Batman grunted and nodded, “Everyone will be assigned different eights of the city to cover and report back on every hour, starting at 7 pm tonight. Individual confrontations and engagements are strictly prohibited” Batman ordered, ignoring the muttered, “Prohibited my ass” from Jason and Roy’s corner, "Starting at 5 pm, I’m going to have Megan start monitoring Spanish broadcast systems and airwaves to get any report of criminal activity or sightings that would fit Wilson or Dick. We’ll go from there”

The room nodded and Kladur kept silent, his arms firmly crossed. He and Batman had gone at it a few times already, but the Dark Night wasn’t willing to budge past the agreement that they would inform the Justice League of the Light’s activities and their own mission status until after their current attempt. Kaldur had protested arguing that they’d been extremely unsuccessful so far and were just chasing Wilson at this point. He said that having at least one more leaguer would benefit them drastically but Batman would hear nothing of it. 

“Welp” Jason groaned standing up and cracking his back, “Let’s get to it. Don’t get killed!” he said with an unnecessary amount of cheerfulness.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick hummed to himself as he got situated on the rooftop overlooking his target’s private office. There was a small window that sat above head height, but Dick was easily countering that by angeling himself above and not in line with the window. Sebastian Barre, a wealthy businessman, and a renowned Spanish weapons manufacturer. He’d just signed an enormous deal with the Spanish and Portuguese governments, but refused invitations from Luthor, showing that his political beliefs begged he not even humor a man like Lex Luthor. Dick was only vaguely aware of the behind-the-scenes politics that had earned the 46-year-old man a death sentence, but because of men like him, Slade had decided that Dick would reinforce his sniper skills. 

He still remembered his first successful assassination. The pressure of Slade’s hand on the back of his nape and the way the man’s imposing figure had melded to the backs of his legs and thighs, keeping him in place while Dick tried to maintain his concentration between the rifle’s scope and the unyielding heat screaming below Dick’s navel. His face was still swollen from punishment earlier in the week but luckily, the swelling was only affecting his left eye. Slade Wilson had foresight when it came to where and how to deal out injuries. Slide had walked him through it, using the same breathy words and phrases he’d used in their repetitive training. Before Dick realized it, he was blindly acting out the same movements, feeling his way along the barrel and positioning the scope to his eyesight instead of adjusting his head level. Just as Slade had taught him within the privacy of his own compound. It was over in .314 seconds and Slade hadn’t allowed him one second to breathe or think to himself. The man had pulled him up and walked him away from the crime scene with casual sure effectiveness. The following day was a complete blur as Slade ensured that he was either doubling down on his training or eating with Kris, Ronan, and Jacks. By the time Dick had time to reflect on how successful he’d been, it was almost 1 week later, and all he could do was stare at his bare feet; watching the scalding shower water run off him in varying streams. He wasn’t able to tell his tears apart from the water and was more grateful for that shower than all of Slade’s efforts to misdirect his impending doom.

The man was due to arrive at his office in exactly 27 minutes. He always stopped by his office after his late-night Tuesday affair so he could freshen up and return home to his wife and 2 sons, under the excuse that another board meeting ran late. Shella Barre never kept up on the business affairs of her husband's company; else she would've known that board meetings happened quarterly not weekly. Dick hummed the same 10 chords from a pop song he’d talked Slade into playing on the radio as he checked his bullets and gun stache for the 4th time. He corrected the prop for his riffle to sit upon the ledge and look down into the office window. He made sure to move any debris from around his chest and elbows where he lay strewn on his stomach, waiting for the moment he opened the door to sit down at his desk and retrieve his pungent cologne and breathe mints.

“Nightwing” a voice boomed behind him. Dick tensed before his head fell forward in a combination of exhaustion and irritation, “Fuuuuck” he sighed. Without getting up off his stomach, Dick craned his head behind him only to be puzzled when he spotted an empty rooftop. His attention was dragged upward to spy the floating man in blue, “Hey Uncle Clark” Dick offered a smirk and a small wave, “What can I help you with?” Dick was dressed abnormally to what Clark had ever seen him in. He was clad in black cargo pants that were littered with pockets and a tactical belt that fit snugly around his waist. He wore a tight black high-collared shirt that cut off at the biceps and matched the thin gloves he wore. He was also maskless, barring his bright blue eyes for Spain to see.

Superman glared, “Nightwing. Drop the gun and place your hands behind your back”

Dick quicked a brow at Superman. He placed his right hand behind his back, “Like this?” he swapped his hands, “Or like this?”

Superman’s steel brow faltered for a second, “Dick, please don’t make this difficult”

Dick turned over slightly and sighed, softening his own brow. Superman the vulnerability and started to descend down to the rooftop. The moment his dark red boots touched down, Dick descended upon him in a flurry of claws and sharp pointed round house kicks. Superman’s eyes bulged as he whirled back, bringing his forearms up in an X for protection as Dick’s heel came down with enough force to stumble him. 

“Dick-!” Superman wasn’t able to get out a full sentence as he tried to manage the flurry of the stranger wearing his nephew's face, “Please!”

Dick pushed off of Superman and spun around in a high flip, landing in a crouch, placing a safer distance between them, “Awww, I didn’t even have to ask for the magic word”

Superman glared, “Dick, I don’t know what’s happened to you but you need to come with me right now. We can sort it all out and you can tell me what happened back at the JL’s base, but right now we nee-”

He was cut off as a bullet ricocheted off his forehead, snapping his head back. He reflexively grabbed for his temple and stared at Dick, stunned. Dick eyed Superman’s red forehead, a small pistol held between his fingers, “Wow. I mean I knew it wouldn't have worked but it's something else to see it you know? Just bounced right off” Dick made a pinging sound and flicked his own forehead.  Superman ascended into the sky at a safer distance, “Dick I don’t want to hurt you but if you don’t come with me right now, I will take you back in whatever state I can”

Dick looked from his small pistol, turning it over in boyish admiration, to Superman with a far darker expression, “You can never hurt me again”. His lip curled in something far more animalistic than human and Dick whipped a knife at Superman’s eye. He held up a hand to block only to realize they were coated in acid or some sort of powdered poison. Superman dropped his arms and backed away, ducking beneath another knife at the last second. Dick marched forward steadily, backing Clark off the rooftop with a whirlwind of sharp blades and glinting assortments. Dick ran out of weapons and reached for the small of his back, but Clark was on him just as fast. The man of steel shot forward and tackled Dick, earning an “Oompf” as the younger man was crushed beneath him. Clark prayed that was enough to keep Dick down but the feral dark-haired man’s hand shot out with 4 fingers narrowed to a point. He jammed them into Clark’s eyeball and the man’s head was thrown back. he couldn't be injured the same way Bruce could be but it still stung like a son of a. A punch was thrown into his adams apple and Clark wretched his head down to glare at Dick but that was what the young man wanted. Just as Clark came to face Dick again fully, a steel-tipped boot slammed into his face full frontal. While his skin wasn’t broken, it still hurt and Superman found himself thrown back until his back hit the brick wall of the rooftop access door behind him.

Superman groaned and shook his head to rid his temples of the sudden incessant pounding only to see Dick scrambling to his feet. For a minute, Clark was worried Dick was making a break for it and would attempt to run from him, but the young man threw himself onto his stomach like a desperate baseball pitcher. Dick reached for the abandoned sniper rifle and Clark faltered, confused as to why Dick was going to shoot him again. Superman could see through the gun and the chamber only held 2 bullets.

Dick turned on his stomach and ripped the safety off before bringing it up for his shoulder. Clark pushed off from the wall in confusion, “Dic-”

Dick’s torso seemed to still with a startling stillness before a sharp muted sound followed. Superman watched Dick in confusion before his gaze was dragged to the far right where a small cracked hole was broken in, in the center of a small window across the street. He saw through the building and his heart stuttered as he saw a collapsed figure slumped against the desk with blood pooling beneath his bent head. He might've looked asleep but the angle of his limp hands, the downward position of the man's face told Superman all he needed to know. He slowly looked back at the young man who used to dress in bright green colors and climb his shoulders. This was not Dick Grayson. Before he could think, Superman flew forward with as much speed as he could muster and closed the 20-foot distance in a half second. He shoved Dick into the rooftop and heard a single rough grunt from below. He forced Dick’s face into the ground, hearing the sharp blunt crack that concrete and brick usually produced. He straddled the younger man, desperate to minimize any other determinants Dick could cause. Dick squirmed and bucked, clawing at the rooftop, until his fingers bled, and clawed the material from his attacker’s clothing. His only protection being the skin of his alien heritage.

“Stop! Dick!” For all that Superman knew the worth of his strength, he’d never been so surprised at a struggle before. Dick knew better than anyone how futile fighting him was without kryptonite-infused weapons. Still, the struggle to subdue his adopted nephew not only surprised Clark, but bothered him deeply. Dick was always strong, mentally and emotionally, but never beyond that of a well-rounded and well-kept human. Jason only surpassed Bruce’s human capabilities after the Pitt forced him back with enhanced reflexes and strength. Jason could easily put most humans in their place if he pushed his limits and offered a severe challenge to Starfire and Aqualad; enhanced peoples. But Clark…Diana….they were always the representation of unattainable. The epitome of gods amongst humans. It was why Bruce had such a hard time trusting either of them at first. Not because he thought they would turn their back on the cape community at some point but because if they ever did, the world would be doomed.

Realizing that Dick was not only able to keep fighting and struggling against his strength but that he was able to fight past the pain that his crushed torso and braised arms offered to his nervous system..... what had the Court of Owls accomplished?

“I found them!” Superman jerked his head to the right to see Kidflash at the edge of the rooftop. He wasn’t breathless from running, but moreso the scene before him. A discarded militia-approved sniper rifle, a cracked rooftop, and Superman pinning down a bucking Nightwing. Superman was about to ask what was happening when Wally brought a hand to his ear, “Yeah, my exact location. Track it now. Yea? Ok good, I’ll stay with them” Wally cringed at Superman and heard Batman bark sharply at Wally, “Oh, yeah um, Superman’s here. He caught Dick”

Superman narrowed his eyes as it clicked together. He’d finally caught up to Bruce and his ridiculous covert mission. Wally prowled forward cautiously, his hand outstretched like he wanted to help, but also wanted to make sure Dick was alright. With Superman’s attention snagged on the speedster, Dick bucked forward and threw his legs up. He jostled Superman just enough to wiggle his arms beneath his chest and shove up with a roar. Superman cursed and readjusted his feet to stay planted, only allowing Dick up so far. He was about to call for Wally’s help when suddenly the speedster was right there forcing Dick’s shoulders down. Wally rarely relied on his meta strength, preferring to let his speed shoulder most of his hero responsibilities, but Superman watched in shock as Wally’s strength seemed like a fly on Dick rather than a legitimate deterrent of force pressuring Dick back down to the earth.

“Dude! Stop!” Wally yelled, his anger busting through in splotchy patches across his cheeks and tone. Dick barked out an insane breathy laugh, “Hardest push-up ever” he joked, barely managing to get the words out. Superman saw Wally’s biceps warble and realized that Dick was overtaking his friend. Superman leaned forward and put most of his weight on Dick’s shoulders as suddenly as possible. Dick’s eyes went wide and he collapsed back to his chest with an "Oomp", his forehead smacking the pavement in a way that made Wally cringe. The force of the downward thrust knocked a grey communicator from Dick’s ear and Wally was quick to smash it, hopefully disrupting any GPS signal attached to the device. Dick was tensed and breathing heavily, but no longer struggling like before. Superman glared at Wally and opened his mouth to demand answers when Batman and a hoard of young adults grappled onto the roof where Wally had entered, “Holy shit, you got him” Redhood said.

Superman ignored him in favor of glaring at Batman as much as he could. He was wary of turning more inc ase Dick tried to take advantage of his positioning again. Beside Batman and Redhood stood Robin and Redrobin, and slightly behind them stood Artemis, Aqualad, and Redarrow.

“I found them like this” Wally volunteered first.

“He sure did!” Dick quipped; for once being ignored. 

“You lied to me Batman, to us”

“I did no such thing, Superman. You informed me of your plan to vote on whether or not Dick's rescue would be followed through on, that is all. You have no place ordering me or my partners around”

Dick barked an ironic laugh when Batman said the word partner. 

“We need to get him out of here now,” Roy said. Damian nodded fervently, “Har-Arrow is right. You can argue later. We have our target right here. We need to sedate him and leave now before Deathstroke shows up”

“Speaking of which,” Redhood said. He reached into Redrobin’s waist pouch closest to him and pulled out a blue vial. He clicked it into place against an equally small syringe that was designed to be stabbed into the skin and not injected with a plunger. He advanced on Dick and knelt down beside his chest. Dick’s form tensed up but he wasn’t able to even turn his head from how tightly Superman had him pressed into the ground. His head was turned away so Jason found it easy to steady his neck with one hand and shove the short needle into his neck with the other. Dick hissed and bucked with renewed vigor until the capsule was empty. Dick's hands, which were trapped flat against either side of him, scratched and scrambled at the concrete, shredding his fingertips and nails as he groaned and growled from the shot, “I guess it only works if we shoot him up directly” Jason said to Artemis, who was watching as well.

Superman watched Dick tremble and heave, “Is that the freeze solution that was originally being worked on at Green Arrow’s labs?” Jason nodded, “Sure is-it’s the only shit that can take down a talon unless you want to carry around elephant-sized tranqs”

Superman nodded as they watched Dick’s form fall limp between trembling spasms. Superman hauled Dick to his feet, realizing how severely he’d been affected by the shot when most of his body weight sagged down and against Clark’s chest. He corrected his grip to sling one arm over his shoulder and keeping the other hand on the side of Dick’s neck. He guided him the short distance to the brick wall Dick had thrown him into beside the rooftop access door and pressed him again it, back first. Dick groaned with every movement, letting his head droop this and that way. His scratched forehead was heavily braised and sweating dark red droplets down his forehead and nose.

Superman looked at Batman now that Dick was subdued and they were all relatively closer, “You went behind my back and organized an unapproved mission”

“Actually, that was me” Redrobin voiced only to be spoken over.

"This kind of behavior will break the Justice League one day Batman”

Batman glowered, “You’re right, your hesitancy will break us one day, but not today, not yet. How did you find us?” It wasn't a question but a demand for answers. Superman glared right back, “I went to see Barbara; her father’s condition has worsened and she is managing Gotham all alone after we realized you disappeared and weren’t just locking us out. She tried to cover up for you but even she saw reason”

“You wore her down”

“That’s not the point Bruce and you know it! Clark snapped, “When Barbara told me the last location she and Megan sent you to, I came to investigate only to find Dick, on accident.  I should been here helping you Bruce, we could have had half the Justice League helping if you’d waited and acted like you were part of the organization you love to dictate orders to”

“Why Clark? So you can place my son in jail for the rest of his existence and have him blacklisted on every international list?”

“He’s already dangerous Bruce, Wally saw how much I struggled to subdue him in strength alone. He just assassinated someone for god's sake!”

Bruce seemed to pause before he forced himself to push past the shock of Clark finding Dick mid-kill.

“That’s why we need to get him back home and away from Wilson. He’ll be fine once-”

“He’s killing people Bruce!” Clark all but roared at the Dark Knight. The night had already been lonely and quiet, but even the wind seemed to vacate from the tenseness that overcame their group. All eyes turned to see where Superman’s free hand was pointing at. They took in the discarded rifle and stand, and the shattered window across the street with quick understanding.

“This isn’t Richard!” Damian said to Clark, “If you and the other founding members hadn't taken your time, we could have stopped him and saved him before Wilson coerced him further! Deathstroke is managing my brother wrongly and you’re more concerned about internal politics!”

Superman couldn't retain his anger when faced with Robin. The youngest member who’d arguably lived the most in his short years already, “I know Robin, I am sorry that things turned out this way. If I could freely, and without obligation to others like the US government and the JL, I would've come up with the same plan as you. I love Dick just as well”

“Good, now let’s cut the sappy talk and get him out of here,” Roy said. Superman narrowed his eyes before he nodded, “We will discuss more at your base, where are you staying?”

“We’ve been using the jet for the most part” Artemis answered. 

“Well, at least I got ma' job dn'” Dick slurred with a slight smile. Damian narrowed his eyes but Jason snorted and patted his cheek, “Yea, sure, whatever Dickie. Let’s go so we can interrogate you”

Dick rolled his head to the side, the action looking more like the inability to control his neck muscles, “Why? You cn ask me questions here?” he smiled with a slightly loopy grin, “Whadya' wanna know? Hmm? Luthor? Savage? The chips?”

“Chips?” Batman asked gruffly. Dick’s eyes went wide and his lips thinned instantly, “What chips Dick? Batman demanded, stalking to Jason and Clark.

Dick shook his head and looked back at Jason, “I'm not supposed ta' tell”

“Does it have anything to do with the Light’s use of Kryptonian biology?” Batman demanded, becoming more incensed.

Clark blinked in shock, “What?!” he was outraged at the sudden information.

Tim nodded, “We found proof that there is an animal they recovered enough biology from yours and Clara’s crash site. It’s a lizard that can basically minimize human brain function down to basic levels with its blood”

“We think they’re planning some sort of mass slave army, right out of a comic book,” Roy said with crossed arms. Beside him, Wally stood between him and Artemis, but he couldn't look away from Dick’s form pressed up against the wall with his head lolling in every other direction.

“How are chips involved?” Batman asked.

Dick glared but the sedation in his bloodstream took all the heat from his eyes, “You tell me Mr. know it all”

Jason laughed, “I like this,” he said with a grin as everyone glared at him, “What? It's like he’s drunk”

“Richard, will the Light use electronic chips to influence people? Are the parts for some giant hacking scheme?”

Dick shook his head, “Nope” he said popping the P, “Even grosser. They're gonna stick 'em in 'em” Dick made a clicking noise with his mouth before wrinkling his nose, “It’s fine though, Master said we don’t have to help them with that stuff, just Savage’s list. I wasn’t gonna help them either way…hate 'em”

Jason and his brothers froze at hearing Dick call Wilson by such a degrading name. Batman’s fists were clenched and shaking, “What list? Did he give you and Deathstroke a list at Luthor’s gathering?”

Dick narrowed his eyes, “Wouldn’t you like to kno-ugh” Dick made a gagging sound as he leaned forward as much as Clark would allow. He swallowed and gagged a few times before spitting up blue-tinged bile at his feet. Dick’s lips contorted, “That’s gross,” he said, “You know…” he drawled, letting his head fall towards Bruce, “I can tell you whatchu wanna know”

Jason smacked Dick upside the head, “Then tell us, douchebag”. Dick winced and bit his bottom lip, waiting for his temples and eyesight to straighten themselves.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I lied. What I mean is that Slade can, but we gotta go talk to him”

“Yea that’s a fuck no,” Wally said angrily. Clark looked at him before looking at Batman. Batman narrowed his eyes, “You’re not considering this Clark”

“You’re not considering this Clark” Dick mocked in a nasally voice. Superman nodded, “I am, I don’t know if it's a great idea, and I don’t mean this to be an insult to you and the team here, but my presence can help drastically, Bruce. Dick’s enhanced beyond measure, sure, but he can’t fight me; no one can one on one. Slade knows this too. He’s never fought me long and not without his kryptonite arsenal to permit him to escape”

“We are not handing him back to Slade” Damian seethed.

Superman nodded, “You’re right we’re not, but we might be able to widdle information from Slade if he truly doesn't have any loyalty to the Light, past his paychecks, and thinks he'll get Dick back for answering questions”

“Wilson doesn't work like that. He barely has a moral code, much less a truth-telling one” Jason said, “He definitely doesn't have loyalty towards his employers, but that doesn't mean we’ll be at an advantage for trying to blackmail him”

Dick nodded, “Jay’s right” he slurred, “Master hates almost everyone”

Superman nodded, “I know Jason, trust me. The Justice League was dealing with the Light and many more before you were a cape. I’m serious though” Superman turned back to Bruce, “We might be able to get Slade to answer enough of our questions, and if he makes a move or we don’t like his answers, we leave, just like that. I’ll take Dick and fly away. I’d be back in seconds and we can either take down Deathstroke or entice him to flee”

“You’re pushing this because of the Kryptonian animal,” Kaldur said, “I don’t-”

“You’re right,” Superman said, “That’s a factor but it doesn’t mean it’s not a good enough one. If the Light is using my home planet to weaponize serums or chips to force people into obedience, we’re going to have a much larger problem on our hands than just Dick’s biology”

Kaldur shot a stern look at Batman who refused to return the attention. He was thinking, watching Dick with narrowed eyes. Batman shook his head, “No, I’m not risking Dick. Wilson is too much of an unknown factor. There’s a reason we’ve never been able to arrest him properly”

“Batman-”

“No! Clark! He’s my son and he’s a danger to himself. I cannot allow him to be anywhere but safe”

Clark eyed Batman mutinously, “I know you have a family to think about Bruce but that won’t matter if we don’t get ahead of the Light. Now. What will you do huh? Squirrel Dick away at the Manor until we hear that the Light had control of the UN? Of the Nation’s president? What about when they come for your boys because they pose a threat? Or give Dick back to Deathstroke after all of this?!”

Batman was silent but his dark form, shrowded by the night. Emotionally and physically.

“I know you’re worried Bruce, but I promise we will leave with Dick when this is all over. We can’t protect our children, or our cities, if the Light is allowed to proceed. Dick might not be informed of everything but we know Deathstroke is, especially after being retained by the Light. We need this advantage, Bruce”

Bruce looked to Tim who returned his stare with much more vulnerability and indecision. Damian was fuming but his anticipation to see what his father said kept him quiet for now. Batman looked to Jason. Jason shrugged, “It’ll be hella tight, but Sups has a point here. He can take Dick away in a second and Deathstroke doesn't just walk around with kryptonite, you gotta come prepared with that stuff so we might actually successfully corner him”

“Dick isn’t in a state to properly resist either” Clark added, “We can count him out of this fight essentially”

“No! I-”

Batman cut off Damian, “We might need to risk this Robin. If we can secure more information about what Savage met with Deathstroke over, or what details he has on the Light’s overarching plan, we’ll be able to prevent a lot of deaths and terrible consequences”

“But Richard-”

“If the light controls all the authority figures in the world, Dick won’t be much better off. Do you think Slade won't take him again? Or that the Light wouldn't take him away? He’s a successful experiment Damian; no matter how hard it is to come to terms with, the Light has an obvious vested interest in Richard”

“MmmmmI forgot what we were talking about” Dick mumbled, blinking heavily.

Jason clapped him on the shoulder, “Looks like you’re taking us to the perv for a little meet and greet Dickie”

Dick’s eyes blinked slowly as he processed what Jason said. His lips formed an Oh before he looked at the ground, “Shit”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Are you sure Deathstroke is here?” Bruce asked Dick. Dick was strapped into the front row seat of the jet and his hands were bound behind his back. His eyes had closed the moment the plane took off and he’d drifted to sleep like a toddler when a car starts up a freeway, "Dick!"

Dick blinked his eyes groggily, “Wha?”

“Are. We. Here?” Jason said slowly.

Dick blinked again looking around, “Are we where I told you to go?”

“Yes”

“Well then,” Dick said with a yawn. Roy scoffed, “The guy’s sassy even when he’s high on drugs”

“It’s not my fault” Dick groaned miserably, “The shot you gave me was like a double dose after this morning. Everything hurts”

Wally looked at Dick, “What? You were given cryo liquid this morning How?”

Dick shook his head, “Master says it makes me weak” Another yawn.

Batman growled, “I’m landing” he looked back at Dick, “Will he be inside or outside?”

Dick tried rolling his neck to prevent a creak, “I dunno, maybe outside waiting for me? He’s not gonna be happy”

They’d flown to the edge of the city where a closed-down apartment complex was nestled before a large park, almost resembling a forest. The large trees looming over the back of the building offered coverage if someone were to exit out the back.

“This is a horrible idea” Damian spat for the millionth time.

Jason nodded, “Yea yea, we all hate it but here’s your chance to take a chunk out of Wilson’s ass”

Batman whipped towards Damian, “Robin you are forbidden from combatting Deathstroke alone”

Jason snickered before his lips fell thin, “Besides, the one thing we can count on in all of this is that the old perv wants Dickie alive just as much as we do”

“For once, I agree with Robin” Wally argued, “This is an awful idea. We have all that evidence and proof of the Light plotting something. We need to take Dick and get back home” he turned to Tim and threw out his arms, “You haven't even gone through all the info yet! How do you know Deathstroke can tell u something that's not already in Queen Bee's stuff? If we can even get information out of him”

Tim’s brow broke, “I don’t know Wally. None of this is certain but Superman is right to point out that we have a huge advantage with him here, plus, the chances of us getting new evidence from Slade are slightly higher than not because he doesn't know what we have”

Dick giggled and rolled his eyes.

“I swear to god, Dick, I will duct tape your mouth” Artemis warned. She’d been relatively quiet alongside Roy and Kaldur, but Dick’s outbursts and taunts were quickly getting a rise out of her.

“Sorry, sorry” Dick went to hold up his hands in surrender but just ended up producing an awkward shrug in his bound state, “Tim made me laugh”

Tim looked at Dick and then Bruce, “Why Dick?” he asked calmly like he was speaking to a child.

Dick gave Tim a Duh look, “Because Luthor didn’t know what you knew already so he and Slade had Queen Bee disarm her closest bases….it worked” he added in a whisper. Tim looked at Bruce, “Shit, Bruce we really shouldn't go through with this if Slade played us into stealing information the Light wanted us to have. We’re reacting to them without even realizing it”

Batman nodded, his face set and stony, “We can use this” he argued, “Wilson doesn’t know Dick is incoherent right now. He’ll have no idea what Dick has said and we can counter him at every misdirection he tries to use”

Dick was weakly glaring at the two of them.

“To play devil’s advocate here” Jason interjected, “Dick is fucked up and kind of doped up right now. How do we know that what he’s said is true? We don’t have Megan to rip the truth from him”

Dick’s eyes went wide and he backed up further into his seat, “No, no nonoo don’t let her in again” he pleaded, “Don’t let her in, it hurt” he said weakly.

“We won’t,” Damian said, immediately stepping up to his brother’s side, “It's fine Richard, you’ll be fine”’

“While Damian calmed Dick, Superman turned towards the rest of eh group, “Jason’s got a good point but every time Dick has spoken, his heart rate has stayed somewhat consistent. It went a little crazy in our scuffle, and when Jason injected him, but his heartbeat never increased like a lie usually does to someone”

Batman rubbed his chin in thought as he considered them and their next plan.

“Guys, we really need to make a decision soon. The jet’s scanner just caught motion down below. I think Wilson’s spotted us” Roy reported. Batman and Superman joined him at the front of the ship in seconds. There was a report generated on the screen of newly recorded movement below and the outline of a male figure showed beneath the trees on the night vision heat scanner. The green background and the neon green lined figure stood casually with his arms crossed staring up at their ship, “It's Wilson” Bruce confirmed with a growl.

“There’s more movement but I think they're staying inside the building” Roy reported as well, as he read the data report from the ship's equipment.

Superman heaved a breath, “Well? Are we going to do this?”  Bruce nodded and looked at Tim and Jason. Jason shrugged and grabbed Damian in a headlock, pulling him into himself and Tim, “Let’s hope nobody gets shot” he added helpfully. 

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Ahhh” Slade said, “I see you’ve brought me back my apprentice. Saved me a trip and about 11 euros of gas. Thank you, Batman”

The Dark Knight shot daggers at Slade through his cowl. The whites of his eyes were pin-sharp and thin with withering anger. Slade was dressed in his full Deathstroke regalia, sans the mask. His black eye patch was wound tightly over his eye and his goatee was uneven where his lips were smirking slightly. Batman noted at least 2 long swords, 2 pistols,  and 5 short blades strapped across his chest, back, thighs, and boots but the way Superman’s neck was tensed, and his fists clenched tightly enough to hurt his own skin made Batman wary that Slade had much more concealed under his uniform. Jason was supporting Dick slightly behind the two leaguers. The dark-haired young man was slightly more coherent than an hour ago but he still swayed and blinked furiously between inconsistent breaths and nonsensical comments.

“Enough games, Deathstroke. We’re here for answers and you’re going to give them” Batman ordered.

“Or what?” The man asked with an intrigued cock of his head, “You’ll take my apprentice? It seems to be that, that was already in motion before your plan changed. What will I get for answering? Hmmm? You can’t expect me to believe I’ll get my property returned to me?”

Batman didn’t respond but Damian spat, “He’s not yours and definitely not your property, you filth”

Slade grinned darkly at Damian, “Ahhh, the youngest Wayne. I haven’t seen you since Richard gave you a knock on the head. I’m not here to prove to you that I own my property. That’s as ridiculous as someone trying to convince me my boots aren’t my boots because I don’t have a receipt”

Superman took a step forward, “Enough, Deathstroke. Bring out your remaining men from inside, lower any weapons you have, and answer our questions; and maybe you won’t be sent off to Waller’s newest high-security prison”

Slade crossed his arms in consideration before he tapped his comm, “Come out and stay back, unarmed. Our little bird’s old team wants to meet you”

A dark-skinned woman with a rogueish pixie cut came out first. She was followed by 2 men; a black man and a tall fair-skinned man with short military-style blonde hair. They were all dressed in padded field armor and fingerless gloves, looking ready for deployment in almost any environment. 

“Hey guys” Dick slurred. He tried to wave a hand before he realized, with a frown, that his hands were still bound behind his back and in Jason’s hands. The shorter black man smirked before it fell off his face in response to whatever the tall woman had murmured to him.

“I’ll bite,” Slade said curiously, “What kind of information can I offer you?”

“Where is William Cobb?” Roy demanded. Batman turned sharply to Roy for speaking out of turn, but the redhead was staring down Deathstroke with a dangerous passion. Batman eyed the way Redarrow held his bow and then realized how cocked Artemis' was as well. He clenched his jaw, hoping he wouldn’t have to deal with young adults and their horrible self-control and sporadic instincts starting a fight too early.

“Ahhh, yes. Actually, that’s a great question. Let me know if you ever learn the answer”

“You don’t know?” Roy asked distrustfully.

Slade’s eye dimmed from interest to a lame humoring, “No” he said, “If I did, don’t you think my apprentice and I would've skipped the list we are so obviously working our way down?”

“So you are dragging Richard around, forcing him to kill those people!” Damian spat.

“You can view it however you want, but if you see your brother’s action as forced, including what he partook in tonight. Well, I’d hate to see your version of willful”

“Don’t let him play word games” Tim warned without taking his eyes off Slade, “We're here for information. He’ll never admit to his abuse of Dick or feel any guilt; it’s a waste of time”

Slade’s eye sparkled with amusement as he looked directly at Tim, “The older you get, the more I see why the Demonhead is so obsessed with you Timothy. You’re a smart boy. Intelligent and driven; not as skilled as others in your chosen field though it seems” he said with a noticeable glance at Jason who was supporting Dick by his wrists and shoulders, “But tell me, why are so you insistent that I’d offer any information without proper blackmail or payment to incentivize me?”

“Dick said you’d tell us if he could talk to you-if we brought him here,” Artemis said. He offered him a sharp look as she made it obvious how knocked and prepared her arrow was. The 70-pound string and bow looked like child's play beneath her biceps and calloused fingers.

Slade smirked, “Ahh good boy,” he said, “Unfortunately, you must understand that was merely my student’s best method to get back to his master. Not very many people can take on a boy scout such as yourself” he nodded to superman, “So I assume some negotiations took place. Although, I’m not sure how even sided these negotiations were” he gave a disdainful glance at Dick’s swaying figure. He looked at Bruce, “Did you prepare large sedatives or bring more of that horrendous anti-talon serum of yours?”

Batman glared back at him, refusing to play into his word game so Slade offered a bored look to Dick, “Apprentice? What hurts the most?”

“Ma-everything, Master” Dick groaned. Damian elicited a violent hiss at Dick’s casually term of respect to Slade. Slade nodded, “So you shot the poor boy up with the only substance he truly fears” Slade hummed, “I’m sure you know this, but without his increased healing capacity, Richard here would be so far down the rabbit hole of addiction it’s not even funny. It’s quite strange that fentanyl and methamphetamine are some of the only things that dull those headaches and hallucinations of his. I’m having some of Luthor’s men look into the biological reasons behind it, now that you've disrupted the Court’s labs quite sufficiently” 

“They’ll be eradicated by the time I’m done with them, with Cobb” Batman snarled.

Slade raised a a superficial brow in surprise, “Careful there Bruce, you’re sounding a tad vengeful. Isn’t that what got young Jason into quite some trouble with you and the law?”

“Stop” Superman ordered, “Answer our questions now, or else” The 3 militia-dressed individuals moved slightly behind Slade, but he held up 4 fingers and their shifting halted immediately, “What is your plan with the Kryptonian animal’s blood? What is this? Some pathetic attempt at world domination and subservience?”

Slade scoffed, “Please do refrain from grouping myself amongst those overweening individuals. They perceive pigheadedness as ambition. No, I am not concocting a plan with them, nor helping fulfill whatever they are doing with those genetic samples”

“Don’t play dumb, Wilson” Jason said, “We have the proof and you know we have the proof of what the Light is planning. You might not want the Light to succeed, because you like your rich asshole clients to think for themselves and make dumb angry expensive decisions by hiring you, but you know what the Light is doing and you know your work for them is more than just second-hand help”

Slade smirked, “Glad to see you’re not all brawn, Todd. It’s true I know of their work but I’m not interested in knowing more or assisting in their advancement. They offer me work, I complete said work. It doesn't make a difference to me if my success propels theirs”

“What game are you playing Slae?” Tim asked lowly, “It’s obvious that the Court’s genetic experiments on Dick are of some kind of interest to the Light. This stupid employment you have going on is a fad and we all know it. Are you lying to yourself when you think you’ll be able to keep Dick away from them? They obviously want to test these chips on him for some reason. To see if he’d be a good slave or if certain types of people can resist the chip's influence”

Slade’s eye darkened, “Do not presume to tell me how I keep my belongings safe and contained. You and your pathetic father not only drove him away, but you lost him and have been absent for a little over 2 years. I know it's safe to say there’s a handful of things you know nothing about Richard”

“We know he’d be better off without you!” Wally exclaimed angrily, “Your daughter, wherever she is, and Joey too. Joey won’t go back to you for a reason” Slade’s thunderous expression moved onto the speedster, “I’d watch that loose mouth of yours if I were you. You may be fast boy, but you can’t grow back limbs”

Wally sneered and glared back, “Neither can you” he spat. Roy put a hand on his shoulder, ensuring the boy didn't act rashly.

Slade grinned darkly, “You’re quite right. I can’t, but Richard can, and you’re all so obsessed with retaining him that you can’t justify any other reason for stealing him than his placement under me is improper for him. It’s clear you are all rather ruffled over the fact that Richard is well-fed and flourishing under my hand”

“Don’t let him get to you” Superman warned the sidekicks in a grave tone. He looked back to Slade, “Is the Light preparing to use those chips on the Earth’s population as a whole?” Superman demanded, forcing everyone to move on from Slade’s verbal attacks.

Slade lifted his chin at Superman, the only other man close to his size and frame, “They are” he confirmed calmly.

“The gathering you all attended the other night. Those investors were picked on purpose as guests weren’t they?”

“They were, although asking me why each one offered value over another, I can’t tell you. They're all stupidly rich beyond reason and the Light believes they offer value. Luthor is handling the funding and development if you will”

“You’re stupidly rich too” Damian forced out. Slade grinned, “I never said I wasn’t, boy”

“You can’t seriously want the light to succeed just for your paycheck to continue. If the Light succeeds they’ll want to use one of those chips on you…on Dick”

Slade nodded, his gaze conveying a more serious understanding, “You are correct” Slade said, “There is only so far I will go in my services for the Light. Right now, it’s a paycheck that does not offer conflicting arrangements or priorities; however, that will change in the future and we all know that”

“Is that why you met with Vandal Savage alone?” Batman asked, “Did he offer you something more enticing than a paycheck?”

Slade’s face didn't betray anything, “He offered me information. I am a greedy man after all and knowledge is power. Savage informed me of the internal instability of the Light. He let me know that while the Demonhead, Luthor, and Queen Bee are working on their interesting little obedience encouragement project, he and a few others have their sights set on alternative goals, and it’s only a matter of time before they conflict too severely. He’s looking into non-mainstream investments if you will”

“Ra’s Al Ghul is helping Luthor with the chips?” Batman asked. He hated the dread that welled in his stomach. The worry that Ra’s had played them by sending them out and offering information played heavily on Bruce.

Slade quirked a brow at him, “How else do you think they revived an alien lifeform with a quarter of its DNA?”

“Dick said you aren’t helping the Light,” Jason said cautiously.

Slade rolled his eye, “I’m sure the boy said very much why high as a kite. But yes, I promised him justice against the crimes committed against him by the Court of Owls, and working with the Light temporarily will help me assist him in achieving that. This is not a long-term goal of mine”

“Why are you helping him anyway?” Tim asked with narrowed eyes.

Slade smiled wide, “The same reason the Demonhead will always offer his inheritance to Batman. I know potential when I see it, and that boy needs to learn how to grasp what he wants by the throat so he doesn't let life pass him by because of the indecisiveness you and your broad instilled in him”

Damian was about to erupt when Superman spoke, “Deathstroke, it sounds like we are on the same side. You obviously want Dick unharmed and out of the Light’s hands, and so do we. You also don’t want the Light to ultimately succeed or else your status and freedom are at risk. We are working towards the same goals here, Wilson”

Slade gave Superman a measurable stare, “So it seems….If you choose to ignore the fact that you currently have my apprentice hostage, partially kidnapped, and bound against his will, I would congratulate you for realizing that most people will always strive towards autonomy when faced with slavery”

“We aren't doing anything against his will” Damian argued.

Slade rolled his eyes and rotated his wrist in a, Come now,  fashion, “Oh I’m sure he used that innate flexibility of his to bind his hands and then place them behind himself. No” his gaze hardened as he watched the younger boy, “You are treating him exactly how William treated the boy, “Telling him it's for his good while he struggles against you, before you”

Damian looked red in the face but stuttered in response, “I think it’s obvious that we have a common goal here,” Superman said, “I suggest we work together to ensure that both of our end goals of freedom are assured” Superman stated over Damian’s furious sputtering. Every eye shot to Superman at his suggestion and Slade’s lips curled in intrigue.

“We are not working with this criminal” Batman hissed at him, “He stole my son and helped deranged cultists torture him”

Superman shot him a look, “Bruce, we don’t have to invite him back to the Cave, but it’s obvious Deathstroke doesn't want them to succeed either; for multiple reasons”

“The answer. Is. No”

“The answer is up for debate, you tyrant” Superman argued, “You can’t decide for all of us. If we keep Slade close, then we have an informant within the Light. Even if he lies to us or betrays us, we’ll have him close which is better than allowing him free reign under the Light's control.  Keep your enemies closer Bruce” Superman stressed. 

“If he betrays us, we are doomed,” Batman said lowly.

“We won’t let him close enough to do damage if he tries to betray us. He could only betray us if we make the mistake of trusting him. We’ll control what access he had to who and what. He won’t have anything to take back to the Light and play both sides”

Batman cast a glance at  Deathstroke and Wally and Damian knew immediately, “You can’t actually agree to this Batman, Dick-”

“Dick will be safe with us-”

“Actually” Slade spoke up, “My apprentice will be returned to me. Today” His voice hardened.

“Like hell” Roy spat.

Slade sighed and muttered something about spoiled impertinent children, “Renegade, come to me. Now” Slade’s voice hardened to a sharp hard edge and within seconds, Jason was shouting out. They all turned to see Dick headbutt Jason with all his might. He stumbled forward and kicked out, hitting the soft part of Jason’s inner and upper thigh. The dark-haired boy cursed and reached to grip his thigh, allowing Dick to stumble away. 

“No!” Wally moved to take action but found 4 guns pointed at them. Artemis and Roy nocked their arrows back even further in response. Superman growled, “You can’t stop me, Wilson”

Deathstroke dipped his head, “Very true. But I can stop at least 1 heart in the time it takes you to get to me. His pistol was aimed at Bruce while the man and lady behind him aimed their own weapons at Damian, Tim, and Kaldur.

“I thought Superman ordered them unarmed,” Damian said incensed, “Yeah, well obviously a lot isn’t going to plan right now” Jason spat back in a whisper, still clutching the thigh that would undoubtedly bruise horribly. Dick had stumbled too far to the right and was now making his way toward Slade, “Richard!” Damian yelled stepping forward, only to have a gun pointed at him and off of Kaldur, “Damian, halt” Batman ordered as he stared down Deathstroke.

Slade smirked as they all watched Dick stumble to Slade, almost teetering off course a few times. He reached the man and looked up into his single eye, “Report” Slade ordered as he devoured Dick’s expression.

“Mission completed, clean up not executed, no fingerprints left behind, I engaged with Superman and might have some broken ribs” he breathed out. His forehead was cut up and smeared light red with rubble stuck in his hair. His bottom lip was swollen like it was bitten up until the skin broke. Before anyone could move, Slade's armored hand shot out and slapped Dick across the face with the vengeance of a man much angrier than Slade appeared. Dick’s head snapped to the side and his bound hands kept him from catching himself. He stumbled to the side and collapsed to one knee, just in time to retain his balance.

Damian and Artemis audibly gasped as they watched Dick all but collapse. Slade reached down and gripped Dick by the top of his scalp. Dragging him up and forcing Dick to balance on the balls of his feet. Dick looked up, but beside his newly bloodied lip, his face held no aggression or anger. Slade looked Dick over consideringly before allowing Dick to stand on his own. He reached out and gripped Dick’s nape tight, bringing him forward until their foreheads touched. Slade murmured something to Dick that made Superman frown. Batman’s gaze shot to Superman over his reaction. Dick nodded as his feet shifted to maintain his unsteady balance.

Deathstroke nodded and straightened up, “Go, get checked out. You’re filled to the brim with that shit” he guided Dick to his right and behind where the dak-skinned lady and the tall red-headed met Dick in seconds, releasing his bound arms. Jason watched the way she met Dick with such softness he almost closed his eyes at her touch. The tall strawberry blonde-haired man grabbed Dick by the chin and turned his face up, examining his forehead and lip. He said something that made Dick roll his eyes and try to tug his face away, only to stumble and lose his balance. He fell towards the shorter man who laughed and grabbed him by the shoulders. Dick tried to swat them away but Jason saw it all. He saw the way Dick still accepted their touches and grabbing hands, the way his shoulders dropped nearly a whole inch the moment that woman touched him. The way his head bent forward like it was muscle memory to rest in the crook of her shorter shoulder. Dick knew these people well, and Jason didn’t like it one bit. It gave way to Slade’s taunt that they no longer knew their brother after 2 years apart.

Slade still had his gun pointed at Bruce, but even when he looked away, redirecting his attention to Dick in a strange polarizing way, Superman was hesitant to make a move. They all knew Wilson wouldn’t shoot unless he would make the shot, but he’d never present the threat unless he was serious about following through, “So” Slade drawled as he turned back to Dick’s friends and family, “What’s this about a partnership?”

Chapter 10

Notes:

Hey there! here's another ch for you. Let me know what you think. The updates might slow down soon because my favorite series has its last book coming out soon and I gotta re-read/binge the series in time lol (Plated Prisoner-check it out)

“You cannot be serious Clark” Bruce snarled under his breath. They’d put some distance between their 2 parties but Tim and Kaldur had been watching Batman with wide unblinking eyes ever since Superman had proposed they work towards the same goal. Dick was currently, not out of reach pe say, but back in Slade’s hands; the one thing Superman had assured Batman wouldn't happen if they met with Deathstroke. Clark had done his best to pacify Bruce, lamenting that he was still confident in shooting across their sparse distance and snatching Dick back from Wilson and 3 militia soldiers. Nonetheless, the way Batman’s jaw was ticked and his fists were clenched, led half of the young adults surrounding the 2 leaguers to believe that a fight between Superman and Slade was the least of their worries at the moment. 

“Bruce, I know Dick is your priority-”

“He’s the only reason we’re here” Jason snapped.

“But if Wilson is admitting to this much without coercion or bribery, think about how much he'd be willing to throw Luthor and the others under as soon as he’s able to see personal benefit. Us working together will be the most efficient way to proceed”

“It’s lunacy” Batman snarled behind slitted white lenses, “It’s never been done before Clark and there’s a reason for that”

“Exactly” Superman stressed, “It’s never been done before. The Justice League has never had an inside informant like this. Deathstroke is already in. He isn’t you or Dick undercover. There's no need to toe the line and prove yourself to outrageous villains!”

“I don’t care if you think this will be easier because Wilson has fewer morals than is acceptable” Batman snapped, “My son is in his hands and is looking perfectly content with a split lip” he shoved a finger into the man of steels’ chest, “Something you assured me wouldn’t happen!”

Superman closed his eyes briefly like Batman’s insistence over Dick for the millionth was trying his patience, “Bruce…he’ still there. We’re negotiating, he's not gone-”

“We are nothing!” Batman snapped, “How dare you presume to make contracts and offers that involve my children; without my approval”

Superman narrowed his eyes, “How dare you take Young Justice members halfway across the world for a mission that was strictly not approved, Batman”

They watched each other fervently. Artemis and Wally were horrifically still, something very few people could claim to have witnessed from a speedster. The two Leaguers were always formidable and different from normal capes in a way that very few could relate to. Batman always seemed to be the dark shadow to Superman’s brightness. The unforgiving line of justice that scared criminals into their jail cells; whereas Superman was a source of hope for victims and many afflicted. Now though, the only force obviously emanating from the 2 League founders was their powers. Batman’s ruthless indomitable force versus Superman’s. It was a rare sight to see someone battle their own shadow, and not a welcome one either.

“I don’t care what ploy you’re trying for here, Clark. My son will not be staying with that monster” Batman said. Clark nodded firmly, “He won’t be” he assured, “Wilson will be willing to work with us because we’ll ensure he gets to see a future where his crimes and business continue, but also because we are going to hold Dick over his head like a prize. He’s going to have to work for Dick” Clark said severely.

Roy scoffed, earning his looks, “Are you kidding me? Wilson and his 3 lackeys pointed guns at us and we let Dick walk back to him. Guns, you guys. That’s the baseline defense a guy like Wilson has. What are we going to do when he and his men get creative? When they pull out bombs or threaten civilian lives”

Kaldur nodded, “While I can appreciate the advantage we are trying for here Superman, I agree with Red Arrow. Deathstroke knows we will not risk lives and he is more than willing to do so himself, always has been”

Artemis and Wally nodded darkly, remembering the few vicarious missions the original YJ had faced Deathstroke the Terminator.

“We can’t allow that,” Superman said, looking back to Batman, “The moment he learns that we’ll buckle under threat, he’ll become too accustomed to threatening us, whether or not the threat is true. We have 2 sharpshooters, me, and a speedster. We can handle them if they refuse to give Dick back”

“And if Dick doesn’t want to come back?” Jason pressed. Tim’s expression was silent and stony, but Damian’s face was a frantic open book.

“He is unstable and not in his right mind. He does not get a say in this” Batman barked sharply, “He will be contained, brought home, and healed. End of story”

Superman nodded, “Well then, I think we have 1 clear pathway forward, get Dick back. If possible, we corral Deathstroke into being our accomplice against the Light”

Batman simmered with irritation and wrath. It would be different if Dick was on board their ship or at least not leaning on strangers behind Deathstroke, but Bruce knew that they had to get his son back, and if they could wrangle Deathstroke’s cooperation before his inevitable arrest, then all the better for the Justice League and society. He forced his fists to unclench, feeling the sudden ache of releasing the strained muscles in his forearms. He turned to Jason, Roy, and Artemis, “I want you all at the ready and prepared to fire. Redhood, aim for Wilson only” Jason nodded and they could all feel the grin distorting his lips behind his mask. He looked at Damian and Tim, “Be prepared to offer support to anyone or get back to the ship for a quick relay or escape” His tone left no room for argument so Damian’s disgruntled expression was found nodding back in confirmation.

Batan turned to Kaldur, “You and Kidflash are our backup to restrain and recover Dick. Am I clear?”

Kidflash and Kladur nodded, their foreheads creased. Batman turned back Superman with a quick stern glance before his attention shot to where Slade was standing casually. He held his arms loosely behind his back, and beyond his back, Dick was visibly leaning against the dark-skinned woman and the fair-haired man. The dark-skinned shortest individual was standing before them with a weapon at the ready. He had been the entire time, but his shoulder showed no sign of shaking or stress. Bruce knew that Wilson would never take on protection but if he did bring back up, it would only be the best of the best.

“Wilson!” Batman called, his voice edging just into the tonality of a growl.

Slade eyed him back with faint interest, “Yes? Did you finally decide on how you’re going to make me agree to be compliant, Bruce?”

“You’re a smart man, Wilson” Superman said back evenly. He’d started to float unnecessarily and cross his arms, highlighting the fact that he didn’t need to appear on guard against a man like Slade Wilson, “Think of the obvious prospect that cooperating with us will offer”

Slade stared him back expectantly, “You want my cooperation? For free?”

“Maintaining the status quo and your current employment lifestyle is far from free. I know you're a well-paid man, Wilson. You know it too, and we all know you’d rather not lose your paycheck and your freedom if the Light becomes too chaotic or large to handle”

“Whose to say I’m not better off managing my business on my own,* hmmm? Not a very good look for a mercenary to be associating with men like yourselves”

Batman sneered, “Don’t patronize us. You’re a lowlife, a mercenary”

Slade smiled and dipped his head in acknowledgment of Bruce’s withering patience, “Am I at least to know the terms of this partnership? He purred.

Bruce felt his forearms ache and realized he’d started clenching them to the point of straining again, “This is not a partnership” he snarled, “You’re going to cooperate with us if you ever want to see Dick; ever”

Slade’s eye widened before he smiled, “Oh, that’s a good one, Bruce, truly. You think you can convince me that not only are you going to rob me of my apprentice, but that you’ll even allow me near him again once we’re separated? I would bet a good chunk of my offshore accounts that you’d rather get fixed like a dog than ever allow that, Bruce”

“You’ll help us manage, mitigate, and stay ahead of the Light until they are no longer deemed a viable threat” Superman spoke over Batman’s grinding teeth.

Slade rolled his eye, “They’ll always be a threat in your book, try again Boy Blue”

Superman narrowed his eyes, a sheen of red overtaking his rises momentarily, “At least until the issue of their symbiotic chips are dealt with and neutralized”

Slade watched Superman closely, his gaze searching and attentive in a way that still shouldered intimidation. His cold hard gaze observed Superman like he knew the man was dirty but he couldn't figure out how he presented himself so cleanly. He glanced back behind himself to where Dick was now able to put conscious effort into listening to the ongoing barter. His bright blue eyes were hard and focused on the heroes beneath the slightly glazed, sedated look that lingered. He stared down their opposing party and didn’t once glance at Slade, he merely waited for his decision. Slade redirected his coarse attention back on Batman and Superman, “Alright, I’ll bite” he said once again, “Let’s see how this meaningful act of cooperation plays out, hmm?”

“Give us back our brother and we can go our separate ways until the Light’s next move” Damian ordered crossly. Batman shot him a look but didn’t refute the order. Slade snorted and rolled his eye. He crossed his arms and looked behind himself to where Dick was focused on Damian. No one spoke for a few moments and Dick seemed to realize Slade was actually waiting on him. His response, his decision, he wasn’t sure, but his gaze roamed to Slade immediately, uncertainty engulfing his features and brow. Slade said nothing and they stared at each other for a long minute. Finally, Dick seemed to understand something unsaid and his brow furrowed even more severely and he straightened up as much as he could while still dependant on the fair-skinned man. His gaze jumped from the group of heroes back to Slade in an increasingly frantic manner and his throat bobbed with every blink. Slade smirked at his pleading apprentice and turned back to the heroes, “I don’t think Richard wants to go with you” he said innocently.

Tim growled under his breath and Damian gaped at Ricahrd’s strange reaction. Every time they’d run into him the older brother had been nothing but casual and aloof, even pretending that things were fine and disregarding the explosion of events and emotions from 2 years ago. Now he stood before him, still bloody, despite his healing factor, and with obvious fright and unease.

“Richard…?” Damian breathed, "What is he holding over your head? Why are you frightened to return with us?" Dick spared Damian a glance before opening his mouth, he quickly jerked over at the waist, and spat up a mouthful of bile. It dribbled down his chin and held remnants of the blue capsule’s liquid. Tim shot Jason a look, “How much did you give him?!” he whispered.

Jason narrowed his eyes on Dick’s reaction. He looked like someone ODing, “Not enough to cause this” he replied. He realized something was amiss when Dick’s eyes stayed true blue no matter how much he was put through. Those talon canary golds stayed hidden, but here Dick was, acting like he was overdosing on one shot of the cryo liquid. Jason looked at Tim, telling him that he wasn’t buying it in a simple look. Tim looked back, watching as the shortest man gripped Dick and pulled a rag from his pants, wiping Dick’s face like it was just another Tuesday.

What was going on behind the scenes to cause Dick to react so horribly to something that should only sedate him??

Slade spared his apprentice an unconcerned glance, “Well, it appears my apprentice isn't feeling well. I should get him home for some rest. If you’d really like to be involved with some of the Light’s planned operations and maneuvers, I can tell you that we are currently contracted to attend an excavation on the Egyptian border” Slade said, “We’ll be there in about 2 days”

“What is it for?” Superman asked. Slade ran a hand through his hair and leisurely stretched one large arm above his head, “We’re to act as protection for the remaining scientists who are examining and excavating some crystals on the border. They hold enough remnant magic to be of interest to Queen Bee and Psimon apparently. Knowing the specifics beyond that is above my pay grade. They don’t pay me to be interested and learn and if they expected that, I’d charge more” No one laughed.

“We’ll be there, but you’re not taking Dick with you,” Wally said. He was positioned to sprint at top speed at any moment.

Slade cocked an eyebrow, apparently not finding Wally’s attitude amusing this time around, “I suggest you listen better, boy. Your friend doesn't want to go anywhere with you. You’ll see him in a few days. Now-”

“He’s not leaving with you” Batman snarled lowly. Slade’s eyes lost all glimmer of patience the second Bruce lowered his voice, “You’re not about to try and take my property, now are you Batman? I know you believe Superman here can handle me while your spare teenagers steal the boy away, but let’s be honest with ourselves” he gave each young adult an appraising look, “I won't regret a single thing...but you very well might” 

They fell into a short awkward sort of silence as they considered Slade’s words. It was obviously vague but not hard to interpret.

“Dick, please” Tim tried, his lips pursued with effort.

Dick frowned his brow in a way that verged on irritation, “How many times" he took a breath, “Do you have to hear the same” Another breath, “Fucking sentence”

Tim’s features slowly collapsed in on themselves as Dick spoke to him, completely reminiscent of how he had when Tim and Jason had used Court order phrases on him. No one said anything, but the heroes remained firm in their stance. Slade sighed, “Alright,” he said, “I can see this is getting us nowhere” he reached into his waist and retrieved a small finger button, pushing it without preamble. Instantly, multiple different wiring sounds started up and the vigilantes whirled around in surprise to find the nooks of the large trees and the backs of the building on the right all alert with small and medium semi-automatic machines. A small red light on every other firing weapon, “Now” Slade said, “We can either go with your plan and have your boy scout attack me while these” he motioned to the weapons trained on everyone, “Take care of everyone else. Or you can just accept that you’ll see your brother in about 48 hours, and in much better shape than how you brought him to me”

Slade finished his sentence with a pleasurable curl to his lips, entirely too pleased that Dick’s family had once again been the source of his pain and bleeding. Batman pursued his lips, furious to the point of static and stillness. Suddenly 3 guns went off on the far side behind them and Bruce whipped around at the short yelp. Wally was splayed against the dirt, his left calf clutched to his chest and wrapped between his arms. Artemis had a stricken angry expression marring her face as she rushed to his side with a curse.

“Now,” Slade said, “I’ll admit, that was a tad unexpected” He looked at the group consideringly, “I will give you kudos for the balls on that, kid. He was always one of the more stupid ones despite the brains his uncle has”

“Wilson” Superman roared, “This isn’t a joke”

Slade’s expression fell flat, “It isn’t” he agreed, “You should take better care to make sure the sidekicks you bring along know how to listen to directives…properly”

Roy and Kaldur slowly made their way over to check on Wally, offering glances at the trained semi-automatic machinery above their heads. He’d quieted down but was still breathing harshly. Slade disregarded them with a wave of his wrist, “The boy will be fine”

Superman and Batman stared him down with a collective fury. Slade was proving, rather quickly, how easy it was for him to follow through on his threats. If Dick didn’t come to them willingly they might not be able to take him home. Bruce did not see this coming. He’d been so sure that they’d be able to vet Slade’s information before taking Dick and leaving; relying on Superman just in case. Wally had just proven how they could undoubtedly lose a team member even if Superman made his move for Dick. Bruce’s attention flickered to Dick’s, surprised to find the boy’s icy attention already on him as well. Dick’s lips glistened with residual spit and he watched Bruce like someone who had a long-standing vendetta. Bruce clenched his fists, despising his obvious next decision, but unless Dick was willing to trust him and come along, they had no way of ensuring he came to them.

Bruce hated the targeted, ultra-focused way Dck watched him. It felt like his son could see down to his molecular level and burn him alive if he stared hard enough. He could only imagine what warped concoctions of ideas and vendettas Deathstroke had needled and grown inside Dick’s mind until they festered and felt like his own thoughts. Bruce knew Dick had lost his faith in Bruce when he found the recording of him ordering Superman to take down the Court of Owl’s sleep chambers; his boys had never looked at him or spoken to him the same way ever again. Damian especially, has lost the reverence he saw Batman with, let alone his father, Bruce. He still fully believed that Dick loved his family though. After hearing what had happened between his boys and the trigger words Jason and Tim used to accidentally send Dick into a deeper spiral of mental distraught, Bruce knew that Dick was feeling unstable and lost amongst their family dynamic. He needed stability and reassurance, not Slade Wilson. Bruce knew his boy was still in there. His loving dark-haired, bright-eyed boy who could never truly muster enough hate in his heart to genuinely sentence someone to death. That boy was the same one who lost himself in his efforts to protect his family and younger brother from his own mother. That same boy that expressed his sorrows and insecurities and regret to Damian before knocking him unconscious and running away with the only remaining danger in the cave; distancing his family from all remaining threats in one move. 

Bruce knew that Dick was scared and hurt; causing him to lash out. He thought that if he fell in line with Slade’s words until all he thought about were the man’s orders, then he’d be able to erase his hurt through the elimination of the Court. That he'd be able to make the world a safer place for his family. He also knew that Dick thought he was unsafe to be around, it was obvious in the way that he hurt himself, before he hurt Damian, that he was still the same self-sacrificing young man. He must be thinking that if he distanced himself enough, his brothers would be safer and further from the danger altogether. Bruce had been there himself. Learning to control his spiraling loss and righteous fury over being orphaned in such a cruel world led him right to the Demon Head's doorstep. Bruce saw it as clearly as Jason and Tim did. Dick’s eyes no longer lit up gold, no longer decimated those baby blues with menacing canary yellow. Dick's reaction to one dose of the cryo capsule was also very telling of something more dangerous and risky taking place behind the scenes. Bruce knew Dick had or was going through something that affected his enhanced abilities and he worried his son was harming himself in a way he couldn't recover from or come back after.

He needed his son away from Deathstroke, whether or not anyone agreed with him. He’d rather have a living child who despised him over a dead one that barely existed in a cruel and meaningless stagnant existence under a monster of a mercenary. Jason had no idea the lessons Bruce had learned from his tragedy alone.

“Dick” Bruce called, “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be, but come home and we can fix it”

Dick’s eyes widened fractionally as he stared back at Bruce. A subtle sheen of amazement filled his face and he looked around at the heroes behind Bruce like they were about to say gotcha. When no one did, Dick looked back at Bruce and lifted his chin for a solemn solid moment, “Fuck you”

Jason whistled lowly, “That’s my line Dickie-”

“Shut the fuck up, Jay” Dick spat, his genuine anger breaking through for a single fiery moment, “I’m not going anywhere with you and you know it. Leave”

Slade’s shoulders slumped and he stood with an expression that said I told you so.

“How can we ensure that you will have Nightwing present in Egypt in 2 days time?” Kaldur asked. Dick opened his mouth for another spiteful retort but Slade held up his hand, silencing the dark-haired young man instantaneously. He peered at Kaldur with an intensity that lacked his usually demeaning purview, “I propose a trade” Slade said, “Seeing as how I can trust you to return my apprentice, much less maintain his health and wellbeing, I’ll offer one of my men to be brought back when we gather at the cave’s location”

Batman and Superman looked past Slade to the 3 soldiers standing beside Dick. The woman was attempting to force a water bottle into Dick’s hand from where he stood angrily glaring daggers at his family and friends. Tim stepped up closer to Batman, “Bruce, we need to start meeting him in the middle or more of us are gonna get shot” Batman shot a sharp look at his son but in doing so, caught Damian’s stricken face, just beyond Jason’s shoulder. The young lean boy hadn’t yet closed his mouth and his lips were parted in a way that spoke volumes. His mask’s lenses were wide and he was obviously having trouble in solidifying the man before him with his older brother: the teenager who had all but fathered him. 

“This is your call, Bruce” Superman murmured, “I can go for Wilson now, but I can’t guarantee who else will get hurt. Miss Martian was the only one who could manipulate a forcefield on the YJ team. The rest of the kids have no defense, just their weapons”

Bruce took stock of the young adults encircling him at that comment. Artemis had pulled Wally to his feet and he now stood on one leg, his stance at the ready despite his obvious pain and the copper-red stains against his yellow uniform. Jason and Roy seemed ready to leap at whatever challenge presented itself, but seeing the uncertainty in Tim, Artemis, and Kaldur, made Bruce pause. He knew he had to get his son back, he did, but doubt was starting to meddle with his mind; twisting his priorities. The Dark Knight was pounding against his frontal lobe, demanding to be given control so that he could ensure the safety of the most lives possible. Batman forced a deep breath, knowing what he had to do. His son, no matter how emotionally and mentally strangled, was with Deathstroke, and was safe to a degree. Batman hated leaving him with Wilson because he knew the man wanted his son alive, alive and well to be corrupted, manipulated, and forced down a path that most could never crawl back from. In another lifetime, Bruce wished he had never found the Bat within his own darkness so that when he came across each and every one of his boys, he didn’t have any stark demanding morals and expectations to impress upon them; merely money and a lavish lifestyle.

I will see him in 2 days, he told himself, We will have one of Deathstroke’s men, he told himself, “Who is the default leader between your soldiers?” Batmand demanded, hating the way Tim’s shoulders dropped at the first sign of cooperation. Slade looked pleased as he motioned to the 4 people behind him, “Richard is, of course. They are his men” Slade looked behind his shoulder at Dick.

“Richard, choose who will be the 2-night guest with your old team”

Dick, whose gaze had been jumping from each person, locked onto Slade at his order and they watched each other for a quiet second, “Maste-”

“Choose, Richard” Deathstroke repeated, his voice firmer and leaving no room for debate. Dick frowned but stood straighter, understanding the position of authority he was placing Dick in, above his comrades and in front of his family, while placing him below Slade’s authority for all to see. He took a moment to answer but did so without looking at the 3 surrounding him, “Wildcat will go”

The shorter dark-skinned male nodded and dipped his head to Slade before turning and accepting a pouch from the woman. He slung it over one shoulder and passed back a small iPad for field use. He was given a firm shoulder squeeze by the other two and reached for Dick before halting as he was about to make contact. Dick’s expression hardened severely and he shot Slade a scalding look before he stepped forward and pressed the side of his temple to the other man's, giving the opposite cheek a quick pat. His lips moved as he murmured something, to which he nodded and smiled, cracking a joke the heroes weren't able to make out. The young man was dressed similarly to Dick and the others. Whereas Dick was dressed in a high neck and short-sleeved high-compression field top, this man and the others wore long sleeves and compact vests. He made his way to Slade’s side and offered another low head in respect before standing at attention, further proving how definitive it was that he was military or militia. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that his features held a mixture of East Asian and South African. His tight cornrows ended just below his nape but his dark narrowed eyes were almond-shaped in a way that complimented his high cheekbones but contrasted his short stature. 

Slade didn't deign to spare the young man another look as he waited for Batman to accept their human offering. He watched the young man and looked to Superman to vet him under x-ray. Superman nodded at Batman and Batman allowed the man to approach. His face was still and stony but he stopped and stood still, facing Dick and the others beside Tim.

“My man knows the GPS location points of where to be reunited with his team lead. We’ll be seeing you Batman” Slade said smugly. He dropped his crossed arms and made his way back towards Dick and the remaining 2. He passed them and they followed at Dick and Slade’s heel, heading back inside the apartment, acting as a compound. The moment they were all inside, Kris and Ronan took stock and stood guard at the door. Slade wordlessly stopped Dick and reached for his face. Dick habitually allowed it as he felt Slde’s gloved hands grip his lower face. The man’s thumb wiped some of the blue-tinged spit from the corner of his mouth as Slade observed his face in return, “I should have your hide for being brought to me like a dog in heel” Slade said. His tone was hard to read but his hand held a gentleness that Dick’s skin and fingers yearned for. 

The corner of Dick’s lip edged upward, “Yes Master” he replied lowly. Slade watched Dick’s face for longer than necessary and the 2 figures in the back knew to stay silent. A scene such as this was not a rare one to see played out before them. 

“I will fault you for that low grade overdose though,” Slade said finally, having apparently had his fill of his student's features. Dick flushed, “Yes sir”

“I know that, while your intention is still self-imposed harm, it is not to end up in situations as this” Slade said, “But nonetheless, I hope your pathetic display before your former team serves as a reminder and reckoning of the path you’re so dedicated to straying on”

Slade turned to leave but Dick caught his wrist, “Master-I don’t like this. I d-”

Slade tsked, “Kid, when did I ask for your opinion or approval?”

Dick frowned, “I’m serious Master, It’s not smart to allow them to follow our movements so closely and-”

Slade leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dick’s forehead, “They are a weak link in your judgment that I can't allow kid. This way I know when and where they’ll pop up and I can keep an eye on everybody” he said like it was simple, his lips and breath were nothing but an intoxicating distraction. He pulled away and gave Dick a rather pointed look. Dick said nothing, knowing that Slade despised groveling, in 9 out of 10 circumstances. Slade looked at the other 2, “Stay informed of your man and keep an eye on him” Slade said, referring to both Jacks and Dick.

“Yes, Colonel” Kris and Ronan replied with lowered eyes.

Slade nodded before stepping away. Dick finally accepted the water from Kris with a partial smile. He managed more than half of it in one go before finding the nearest wall and sliding down.

“Don’t beat yourself up over Jacks” Ronan said, “He knows the order of things. He’s the most expendable in terms of skills and experience, but we’d fight like hell to bring him back”

Dick nodded, only half listening. Kris dropped down before him, refraining from touching him once again, as was the standard, “He gets it Dick” she said lowly. He won’t be mad. Jacks is a wildcard, he’ll like the switch for the next 48 hours. He knows that you need your second and your armory expert more than a combat expert. You already fill that role yourself”

Ronan nodded. Dick sighed, still displeased, and dragged a hand over his face, “We’ll see” was all he said.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

No one spoke until they were back on the jet and had put some distance between them and whatever other preventative defense measures Deathstroke had prepared for the vigilantes. The dark-skinned Asian male that Dick had chosen to trade with them for now had been a silent imposing shadow. He was polite and moved around people. He was silent and never spoke first….he was cordial until suddenly he wasn't. Wally was eyeing their guest with a silent fury and Artemis elbowed him, “Don’t start something” she urged under her breath. Wally shot her a look but listened for all of 5 minutes, “What’s your name?” he demanded.

The man looked at Wally in surprise. His full lips turned up, “Jacks” he said simply.

“Dick called you Wildcat,” Roy said with narrowed eyes. He was leaned against the ship’s wall and refused to sit. Jacks nodded, “That’s the field name Dick gave me”

“He gave you a name? What are you guys? Some weird violent social circle?” Wally asked.

“Who were those other asshats?” Jason included. He knew this man and it ate at him the moment he spotted those almond-shaped eyes and sleek dark hair.  Jacks’ smile broadened as he peered around at the hostile scowling faces surrounding him. He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, “Falcon and Eerie are the 2 that stayed behind. The Colonel picked us all up from different places. Me, personally, he saved me from the Loase militia firing squad for defending my country too well. Let us join his company ranks until Ren hand-selected us to be his personal team”

“Ren?” Tim asked.

“Renegade”

“Nightwing calls himself Renegade?” Kaldur asked. He looked to Tim over the title and his confusion returned tenfold. 

“The colonel chose it for him, I believe. His title is Death’s Renegade but it’s a bit of a mouthful. I think the Colonel just has a soft spot for fancy exaggerated names, ya know?”

“Death’s Renegade?” Artemis asked with a flat unimpressed look.

Jacks nodded and shot her a charming grin, “Yea, cool ain’t it? Eerie and I think it’s cuz the bossman can’t die so he and the Colonel are the only ones who deny death” Artemis’ lip curled in contempt at his symbolic explanation.

“You’re claiming that Deathstroke chose you to join his employment?” Damian asked crossly.

Jacks nodded, “Me and hundreds of others”

Damian jerked, “What? There are more of you?”

Batman spoke and everyone whipped around to realize he had been listening in, staring down the newcomer with a hearty vengeance, “Deathstroke runs a private contracting organization that offers protection, training, and an under-the-radar lifestyle to people in exchange for a percentage of their contract successes”

Tim was stunned and Jason laughed at the irony, “Slade Fucking Wilson runs a mercenary company?! This is too good”

“This is awful” Damian hissed.

“So what? He loans you guys out to do hits and he takes a percentage?” Roy asked.

“Exactly” Jacks confirmed, “I specialize in close combat, Falcon specializes in development, deployment, and planning, and Eerie’s great at arsenal and weapons management. We didn’t really know each other before Ren chose us but it’s a stepping stone for the kid, ya know?” To get him used to higher management”

“You seem pretty uppity for someone who just got placed 3rd amongst his friend group” Wallty taunted.

Jacks raised a single brow, “Like I said, everything is a test and lesson for Ren. The Colonel wanted him to make a quick, hard, but efficient decision on the spot so that’s what Ren did. He knows I specialize in close combat, which is already his specialty. He doesn’t need 2 of the same people when we all know I’m second to his durability. This will be a fun little excursion to read your little fucked up family dynamic and report back to the bosses in 2 days; that’s all”

Superman joined the group from the front of the ship, “That’s what this isn’t going to be” he clarified, “No one except myself and Batman are going to be communicating with him, and no one will be sitting near him either. You’re not a meta are you?” he asked the man directly.

Jacks shook his head, “Nope” he said, popping the P.

Batman stepped in closer to Jacks, “You are not to initiate conversation with anyone on your own, am I clear?”

Jacks smiled and nodded.

“You will sit quietly where we tell you to and you will show us where Wilson plans to take my son and your remaining team with you in 2 days time, am I understood?”

Jacks’ smile flickered and a frown made itself apparent for the first time since they’d departed. He nodded nonetheless.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Later that next night, they all sat aboard the Batplane as it hovered in uncharted air space. Megan had taken some time away to connect and check all the relative space around them, confirming they were alone and safe to relax for the night. Bruce refused to land and cause any more issues on land; being seen was one of the inconveniences he wanted to avoid. Jason watched as Superman and Batman reconvened at the front of the ship and spoke quietly. Their heads were bowed as they discussed the information Jacks had given them on where they were to meet Dick and Slade again. Jacks had spent a full half day being interrogated by Superman and Batman, but they weren’t able to get anything substantial out of him, save for a few moments of elevated heart rates and information about their upcoming mission and goals.

Jason stood up to stretch, making his way down the main aisle towards the bathroom. On his way past Tim, Jason dropped a folded note in his lap. Tim unfolded it and closed his laptop, reading “Come on. DONT argue”

Tim slid his laptop into his bag and pushed to his feet calmly. He followed Jason a few paces behind and caught up with the older boy as he took a seat beside their polite prisoner. Jacks’ eyes flickered with intrigue as Tim and Jason surrounded him and quietly took a seat. When no one looked back at them or noticed their movements, Jason leaned in, “Talk. What’s up with Dickie? How screwed in the head is he, seriously?”

Jacks smirked, “I don’t think I’m supposed to talk to you”

Tim cut him off, “You’re not supposed to talk to anyone on your own. You’re not starting the conversation and you’re not alone. Talk”

Jacks smiled brightly, amusement filling his dark brown eyes, “What do you want to know?” he asked leaning back more comfortably, “Dick is fine, in all honesty. You guys really need to get over the fact that just because he’s doing his own thing, doesn't mean he’s insane. You guys are all just sticklers”

Tim sneered and looked at Jason, “Sounds just like Wilson” he said.

Jason nodded but didn’t look away from Jacks, “How much do you know?” he asked seriously, “Are you guys the only ones Dick’s allowed to socialize with, or what? How tight is his leash?”

Jacks’ smile dipped and faded slightly, “About what? The Court and their on-and-off torture? How you guys tried to use his brainwashing against him? Or are you asking about how Batman apparently killed a ton of sleeping, harmless talons because he hated that his son got turned into one?”

“So everything” Jason grumbled.

“A good enough chunk” Jacks said, “It’s hard not to pick up on a lot when your team lead is a talker on top of hallucinations and nightmares”

“Hallucinations?” Tim asked. Jacks didn't reply; watching the brothers steadily.

Jason felt Tim stiffen violently beside him, “What’s up with Dick’s talon stuff?” Jason asked after a moment. Jacks observed Jason like he was sizing him up and Jason would have none of it, "I know you're the fucking asshat from the bar. You and those other losers have been shadowing Dick on everything, I know you know more"

Tim seemed to perk up at Jason's words but didn't want to show their guest that particular intrigue, “His eyes don't change color. Did he fix the electrum in his blood? Why did he react so badly to Jason’s shot earlier?”

Jacks scowled, “I’m not a prisoner just to spill my leader’s secrets. Even if you don’t believe me, some things never go beyond the Colonel’s ears and rooms. As for that shot, you try seeing how getting beaten up by Superman feels, and then getting injected with liquid nitrogen”

Jason looked ready to spit on Jacks, “We all know your boss is a fucking perv. If you care about Dick at all, you’d help us get him away from that predator. I don't know what Dick thinks he's doing. We could've helped him track down and arrest the Court assholes”

Jacks was silent for a long while, “I won't claim to understand the relationship between Ren and the Colonel, but Ren has said that the Colonel is the only one who can handle him if things go south. He still trains him, and don't get me wrong, he takes care of all of us. We eat and sleep well, but…” he looked conflicted, unsure of how to go into more detail about Slade and Dick, eventually choosing not to say anything at all.

“Besides” he spat, “You’re sure on your high horse. You tried to use him like the brainless weapon the Court thinks he is, and you think he’ll just turn around and ask for your help?” Jacks leaned in, “He hates you, you know. It’s one of his driving passions. Back home, he takes apart maybe a sandbag every other day in practice and I’m pretty sure your faces are all he sees when he’s going to town of those things” he chuckled. 

“It was a fucking misunderst-” Jason broke off and took a deep heaving breath as emerald spliced his vision, reminding him of when he looked at the sun for too long and saw bouts of color with every blink, "Dick doesn't hate us. The happy-go-lucky loser doesn't have it in him. Sure he's pissed-"

"Oh boy, just wait till you really see him in the thick of it. If that's not hate, I dunno what is" Jacks sang back in a lilty taunting tone.

Tim watched the way Jason’s jaw ticked in an all too familiar way so he took over, “You’re not stupid jacks. You know that being with Slade isn't good for Dick. You haven't always been around, Slade's been after Dick-obsessed with him-since he was a kid. Like a little kid”

Jacks' eyes took on a lidded knowing look and he leaned forward, “No, you guys are too smart not to realize that your brother has been experiencing an extended period of trauma since he was 17 and is only now choosing to take control of his life” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Ren can’t die” he whispered in a gleeful breath, “Do you realized the constraints and boundaries that he’s no longer held by?! He literally can’t be beaten unless someone scatters his dismembered body parts so far away from each other that his molecules and red blood cells have nothing to regrow and reattach to”

Tim looked at Jacks morbidly, his mouth slowly falling open. Jacks had seemed polite, and down to earth, but the deranged mercenary before them was just as demented as they feared everyone else surrounding their brother was. The influences that Dick was engulfed by were getting grimmer and grimmer.  Tim felt the heavy breaths of Jason beside him and noticed the hunched shoulders of Damian ahead of them, closer to Wally and Roy. He leaned into jacks, “I don’t care if you think you're doing right by him by letting him do who knows what, but this Dick isn't the real Dick. Dick Grayson is nice and loving and caring and he’d never hurt anyone as maliciously as I’ve seen in the last 2 weeks”

Jacks’ smile only stretched his cheeks further, “That’s just because you’ve never been on the receiving end, dummy”

“This is fucking pointless” Jason gritted, “This asshole doesn't care about anything but money and licking Wilson’s boots; defending Dick’s bad choices is gonna maintain his status quo”

Jacks sniffed in annoyance and his eyes skimmed across the two brothers. His dark almond eyes landed on Jason’s face and his mouth curled devilishly, “How’d you get that little scar? I thought you were the one brother who could punch a little harder and heal a little faster”

Jason looked stunned, caught off guard by the jibe and the knowledge that Dick might’ve fed their enemy much more about them than they’d assumed. His eyes narrowed in the same minute Tim’s hand slammed against his chest, bracketing him back against the seat. His lips parted to direct his anger at Tim but the younger boy shot him a sharp look, his blue eyes quelling Jason’s overwhelming green haze, “He’s not gonna do anything but piss us off more. We know who these guys are and now we know they’re not any better than Slade. Let’s go”

Jason watched Tim stand and make his way to the walkway, waiting for Jason. He looked like he was debating on how far he could take it with their hostage. Something in Tim’s expression convinced him to drop it for now and the 2 brothers left Jacks alone, making their way back to Damian and Roy.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Artemis nudged Jason in the ribs, “Ow” he hissed, rubbing his side. She glared at him before looking pointedly to her other side. Jason followed her gaze to see Robin staring down and out the ship’s window with a strange look of morose and aggression.

“What?” Jason asked defensively.

She narrowed her eyes, “Step up” she hissed, “He’s going through something”

Jason balked, “He-I-We’re all going through something! That demon spawn hasn’t not been going through something since he learned Batman was his dad!”

Artemis shifted to one hip and crossed her arms, “Not only is he your brother, but he’s the youngest on this team and needs more attention than Bruce is giving. Tim’s tried but he’s basically planning every impromptu mission by the second and can’t spare any extra brain cells; even for the toilet”

“So what? He’s my responsibility? If you’re so worried, you go talk to him”

Artemis looked to be on the verge of seething, “Dick loves all of you but we all know Damian is basically his kid. When we get Dick back, and in his right mind,” she emphasized, “You better make sure all your brothers are still intact enough to help him through whatever Deathstroke and those fucked up teammates have put him through these last 2 years. He's not my brother but I'll never be able to forgive my sister for the way she ditched me when our family fell apart”

Jason’s brow softened as he looked back at where Damian was refusing to blink against the window.

“Dick’s always been the first one to put himself down, but now it looks like he’s been surrounded by a bunch of lowlifes that encourage all the dark thoughts too”

Jason huffed a quiet chuckle, “Dickie the bad boy” he murmured. He couldn't manage a smile. She growled but Jason felt his own malice and pent-up wrath bubble over unexpectedly, “Worry about your own people, will ya?” he spat. She paused before she looked past Jason to where Wally was sitting beside Roy. Roy was checking the notches on each arrow with a blank face, but Wally was hunched over and tapping his foot to the point of it blurring; a ferocious moue twisting his mouth. He was staring at the ground like it had just killed his dog and gotten away with it.

Aretemis’s mouth distorted to match his own and she sighed, “Batman already chewed him out for getting shot; he’s healed enough to run, but not at his fastest. Sometimes…sometimes I think he would've been better off if Dick never came back”

Jason looked at her in amazement. She sent him a cautious look but continued, “I’ll never say it to his face, and he’d never agree with me anyway, but I think he was doing better before”

“We all wer-”

“That’s bullshit Jason” she snapped, “You guys were falling apart, trying to cling to each other just enough to leave scars and make sure there was someone more depressed and angry than you” Her tone softened to whisper, “Wally though, Dick was all he had. He and Roy. Those 3 started the sidekick community and grew the Young Justice team, but I think Wally always felt more of a connection with Dick because Roy’s a few years older. When Dick died, Wally disappeared for a while, we all did in some way but over those 5 years, he started to come back with that kind of adult depression that haunts people who, I dunno, survived a car crash or something” she scowled at her own poor explanation but Jason stayed silent, “The point is that he learned to treat it like his own personal loss, like losing a parent or something. He mourned, grew a little, and started to come back to us; to me. But when Dick came back and gave us all hope for half a year” she sighed heavily, “I don’t know if that half year was worth what I’ve seen him put himself through because of it. Dick’s strange behaviors because of the Court’s brainwashing and then his violent episodes, not to mention this run-away fuck show. Don’t get me wrong, I’d die for Dick, and I still would, he’s my brother and the first one to make me feel completely accepted on the team despite my dad, but the hope he gave Wally again has hurt him more than his actual death”

Jason smirked ironically, “You know, Damian accused me of blaming Dick for all this shit", he stretched his arms and cracked his back to prevent the stillness between them from seeping into his bones, “It’s hard to say. I owe Dick more than my life, but we’ve failed him so many times I think it’s finally starting to register that he’s an adult and better off away from us. Not that I'll let him get away with this mega tantrum of his”

Artemis clenched her jaw in the same way Damian did when he was failing to keep his bottom lip from trembling, “Dick….he…I never knew how he could relate to me so well about my dad. How he could say all the right things about feeling shitty when you wanted to impress the guy, but feeling even worse when you failed to” She looked at Jason, “I thought it was just because Batman was the toughest dad out there, “Now I know better. It was never Batman”

Jason shook his head, “Did he tell you about the first time they met?”

Artemis looked at him in surprise, “No?”

Jason looked at Damian’s still form, using him to maintain his internal composure, “It was the first time he was allowed to separate from Batman on patrol, a few months after Harvey almost skinned him to death with a whip at the docks. It didn’t take long before Robin knew he was being followed but thought Selina was playing with him or something. Once he realized whoever was following home was out of his league he tried to book it to Batman but Slade stopped him”

“What happened?” Artemis wasn't sure she wanted to know. Jason shrugged but answered, “According to Dick, he spent the first 10 minutes or so playing with him, but Dick’s hot head ran his mouth and called Wilson out on it. Deathstroke beat him until he couldn't get up and then spent the next 10 minutes complimenting him. Dick admitted to me in High School that, that memory is a recurring dream and the nightmare part of it is when he wakes up feeling good he managed to impress Wilson”

Artemis’s throat tightened and she wrenched her gaze away to focus on her boyfriend, attempting to steal his firm anger and solidarity through the air between them, “Slade’s poisoning Dick. I get that Dick wants different things than Bruce, but no matter what, we need to get him away from Slade, even if it’s not back to us” she said boldly. 

Superman broke them from their conversation by stepping forward beside Bruce, “Everyone ready?”

Everyone offered nods, except for their exotic guest, “I don’t see anyone in the air around us so I’ll land us down about a half mile away and we’ll trek inwards and meet Deathstroke there” he looked to Wildcat, “You are to stay beside us until allowed otherwise" Batman set his sights on the shorter man, "If you make a move on Wilson’s orders, Superman will not hesitate to subdue you without restraint”

Jack’s attention slid from Batman to Superman, who was already watching him, and he nodded. He’d been relatively quiet once Jason and Tim had let him be. Batman had attempted to intimidate him into a baren interrogation, but he’d smiled and politely declined like it was a job promotion and not the Dark Knight.

“I expected more trouble from him as his field name implies he’s a wildcard,” Kaldur said to Roy. Jacks heard and turned to him with a pleasant smile, “Ren told me to behave” he said simply, "But I did manage to surprise you, right?"

____________________________________________________________________________________

The group made their way through the mild sand dunes, and increasingly difficult rock formations, until they came across what must be the excavation site Slade was being paid to attend to.

“This is it” Jacks confirmed as he read something on his digital watch. “The bossman should be close by”

“Are we talking Dick or Deathstroke?” Roy asked grumpily.

“Both I guess. They say jump, I say ‘off what’?”

Wally and Roy made a noise of disgust but Jacks seemed to be enjoying himself the closer they came to the cave’s entrance. It was a large heaping mound of rock that jutted out of the sand dunes and stood out from the other smaller rocks and bumps in the vastness. Before them was a large line of tents, their openings flapping angrily in the wind. Beyond the tents sat large black trucks with flat beds filled to the brim with crates.  To the right was an enormous entrance into the cave that allowed for far too much sight and not enough coverage. “We wait here until we spot Dick or Deathstroke. I don’t know what type of defense Queen Bee has assigned to this” Batman ordered. Within a few moments, one of the farthest tents opened further to reveal the muscular woman from the 2 people left with Dick and Deathstroke. She spotted them instantly; their brightly colored hero uniforms and Jacks’ black full-body camo suit were an obvious statement against the pale tan sands. She was dressed for the environment. Her head was covered in a dark white cloth that looked like a makeshift hijab and her compression shirt, tactical pants, and vest were now a dark tan and light camo combination. 

She poked her head back inside the second largest tent, and when she emerged next, Deathstroke, Dick, and Eerie followed closely behind. Deathstroke made his way over to their group in his usual attire. He and Dick seemed to be the only 2 not dressed to blend in with the desert landscape. Slade’s single eye observed the group of heroes and ran his gaze unnervingly up and down everyone, “Well I see my man has made it back safe and sound” Slade commented with disinterest lacing his tone. Jason noticed Dick’s attention was directed at Jacks beside him. His blue eyes were steadfast on Jacks and the shorter man nodded once. Jason caught how Dick’s shoulders didn’t drop necessarily, but they did seem to sit on his body lighter like he was waiting for some confirmation from his teammate before relaxing completely. Jason’s brow crinkled, Was Dick’s mental track so off queue that he thought they’d harm his man, or was there something else at play?

“We’re not like you Deathtsroke, we keep our word” Superman informed the mercenary in an authoritative tone.

Slade shrugged, a playful glint entering his eye, “Usually” he said.

“Your man was tight-lipped and not very forthcoming, under your orders I assume”

Slade didn’t reply but his single eye expressed his amusement.

“You claimed Queen Bee hired you to protect her scientists on site? If that’s the only obligation you have then get them off-site so we can investigate how much damage she is trying to cause with these unearthed magicks”

Slade tsked, “Wayne, while we are partners at the moment it seems, do try not to treat me like your previous partners” Dick stiffened behind Slade just before the man’s timbre dipped and took on a deeper more serious tone, “I said that I would allow you to pursue the excavation site and collect whatever you wanted that wasn’t the magic crystals. It appears your paranoid mind has reconjured a different agreement in your head”

Batman crossed his arms, “You are not going to be allowed unfettered access to wherever you want after kidnapping and keeping my son from me”

Slade’s eye narrowed in a lowly intimidating way, “I’m getting quite tired of having to remind you, Bruce. You seem to forget my apprentice has a brain of his own”

“Deathstroke, don’t play coy. We won’t interfere with whatever shipment is going to be delivered to Queen Bee, so that your status within the Light isn’t compromised, but we aren’t going to sit out here and twiddle our thumbs”

He looked to Batman as if asking permission, “We’ll split into groups. Myself and Batman will accompany Slade as he makes his rounds and finishes up whatever he needs to attend to. The rest of you will split into 2 groups”

Bruce nodded taking over, with one last spiteful look at Slade, “One of the 2 groups will surveil the perimeter and take stock of the external perimeter, and the other group will investigate the actual cave and excavation site; and take stock of internal. I want to know everything Queen Bee will know when her crystals get back to her”

“What exactly are these crystals? Are they connected to the biomedical implant chips the Light is creating?” Roy asked. Slade’s head tipped forward and his gaze glinted, “Close, but not quite. Vandal Savage had some interesting words of wisdom to share” Dick’s attention snapped to Slade in a way that all 3 brothers noticed instantly, “He must have been threatened enough by the current instability of the Light to share with me that each member seems to have their own agenda in a way that is disruptive to the continual health and stability of the Light itself”

“You think this a separate ploy for Queen Bee to gain power at a distance from the Light’s influence” Batman stated, “She is a powerful figure, but has no use for magic on her own”

Superman heard Kaldur mutter Megan behind him and his mind flashed to the incident that the team, in particular Miss Martian, went through with Queen Bee and Psimon, “She controls Psimon and Klarion” he pointed out to Batman.

Batman’s frown deepened, “It would be too suspicious if Queen Bee were to suddenly enhance the telepaths and magic users under her control,” he said in return. He looked to Deathstroke, “You claimed to be under retainer for Savage. Why are you doing work for Queen Bee?”

Slade nonchalantly said, “Vandal Savage knows how to play the game, he’s been alive for quite some time now and knows that to get some, you've got to give some”

Bruce heavily disliked the way the pieces were placing themselves together, “You believe Vandal Savage is secretly making attempts to endear himself to members of the Light so they will attack him last when things finally start to fall apart? He loaned you to Queen Bee so that you’ll get her work done, but then report what she’s accomplished back to him”

Slade read a message on the device against his inner wrist and looked up at Batman like he was half paying attention, “Good job, Wayne. Now that you’re done playing smartest man in the room; I do need to attend to certain places and people before you can make a mess of things”

Superman scowled as Slade walked away without any preamble, leaving the heroes to look after the 2 leaguers frantically. Batman’s cape swished behind him as he stayed close to Deathstroke, but Superman sighed tiredly and looked back to the young adults and teens around him, “I trust you to separate yourselves into appropriate teams. Stay connected” he tapped his comms and then made his way to Batman’s side in a quick hovering motion. They all quietly watched their leaders leave them when Jacks suddenly said, “Well then, I guess my vacation’s over” and proceeded to walk over to Dick, Ronan, and Kris.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“I think whoever goes to guard the perimeter should be the biggest group," Tim said. His face was stern and composed, but Jason could see how the sudden awkwardness was itching at him. He nodded in support, “Sure”

“Shall we take a vote or defer to Redrobin as leader in Batman’s absence’ Kaldur asked. Jason was about to point out that Batman was the deferral team lead when Tim was absent but that would make Tim appear in a lesser light than already.

“I had to push back,” Jacks said with a smile that implied quite the opposite, “But Robin number 3 is not our leader”

All eyes turned to where Dick stood. His face was unreadable but that might've been because his lower face was hidden behind a black cloth tied over the bridge of his nose and lips. His dark hair was slightly ruffled from the past 2 days in the sand dunes and his black gear was almost grey with the thick layer of sand covering him. 

“Okay,” Tim said cautiously, “Dick?” he said like it was a foreign language, “What do you want to do?”

Dick cocked his head, “I’m kind of curious to see what Timmy’s about to come up with, to be honest” he replied in a light tone, not at all in line with the dark shadow of his eyes. Damian looked surprised at the use of Tim’s name and not his title. Tim scowled but he looked more unsure than ever, “I think you, me, Jason, and Roy should go investigate the inside of the cave and the rest stay outside”

“No,” the tall redhead said immediately.

“Who are you again?” Roy asked with an aggressive finger point.

Jacks pointed, “That’s Eerie, and that’s Falcon” he motioned to Kris, “Remember when I mentioned Ren’s new team and all that,” he said with an aggressive smile. Dick’s shoulders tensed and he looked at Jacks sharply, "What is this? War of the redheads?" Jason whispered to Damian under his breath.

“We still need to split up, unless you want to just sit here and waste time?” Artemis reminded with an attitude.

Dick’s eyes crinkled slightly and he shrugged, “I dunno. We could sit down and play duck duck goose to pass the time”

“Dick” Jason and Tim both snapped. Dick laughed and held up his hands in surrender. Damian found himself watching in an out-of-body experience. He had to be dreaming or drugged because it felt like the last 2 years of hell and 5 years of despair had never happened. His big brother was fine and instigating Jason and Tim into some sort of obnoxious joke. He gazed around to see everyone else looking annoyed or bewildered all the same; no one else seemed convinced they were dreaming. Had Damian’s sleep-addled mind created Deathstroke and 3 new strangers after a long night of patrol? 

Damian gazed back to Dick, anxious to see beneath the indented black cloth, just to prove the crinkles beside Dick’s blue eyes were really smile lines. Dick stopped short, aware of Damian’s gaze. Artemis, Wally, and Roy caught on the soonest but Kaldur spoke up, “What’s wrong Robin?”

Damian didn't know how to answer the dream Kaldur, “You’re fucking with his head, that’s what!” Jason snapped, “You have 2 moods apparently, happy-go-lucky denial or being Deathstroke’s fucking pet!” 

A sudden powerful hush fell over the group and Dick made purposeful eye contact with Jason. He pulled down his face covering to reveal a small knowing smile, “I know you’re frustrated, Jay” he stepped closer, but not too close, “But try to think before you speak next time”

"You're lucky the Colo-" Dick cut Jacks off with a guttural snarl that tore from his throat, "Don't speak to him" 

Dick turned to the others in the group, “I agree with Tim since we’re an odd-numbered group. I can go with Jason, Tim, Roy, and Ronan, I want you with us”

“I am coming as well” Tim and Jason shared an immediate look over Damian’s demand. Dick’s brow softened slightly but he merely sighed and pulled his mask back up. He looked at Tim and Jason with an expectant look. Jason looked back to Damian, prepared to fight with the youngest boy in front of everyone when Roy spoke up, “Alright” he agreed. Jason looked mildly surprised and Tim looked stunned. Roy looked at Jason with a look that said, trust me. Jason narrowed his eyes at the hassle Roy was putting them through. He most likely thought he was offering Damian and Dick more intimacy and closure, being the only actual parent from their group now.

“If it’s just you guys, I should come too,” Wally said, “Or Kaldur” he added like an afterthought he was forcing for the sake of rationale, “Queen Bee’s soldiers are probably all over this place and it’ll be smart to have a meta on each team”

Ronan snickered and Wally frowned, “What?” he demanded, “You think being fast is a shit skill?”

Dick merely looked at Ronan and the tall lean man cleared his throat, “No, my apologies for antagonizing you. It’s just ironic that you don't consider Ren as enhanced”

Wally’s mouth was partially open, prepared to combat whatever Ronan held issue with…except for that, “Oh” he said with a glance Dick’s way, “Yea” he had no idea how to respond. No one from Dick’s family or friends had ever worked with him in the field while he was newly considered a meta. Of course, his brothers had seen the aftermath of his fight with the Shadows, and Wally and the others had to help subdue Dick in an occasional frenzied state, but no one had seen Dick’s new capabilities put to the test. 

Dick crackled his knuckles, “We’re wasting time” he announced in a voice that expected attention and obedience. His words were suddenly very curt and his tone brooked no allowance for disagreement.

“Renegade” Kris said, “You’ve barely been inside the caves, are you sure I shouldn't go with you instead of Ronan?”

Ronan smirked but rolled his eyes. Ren shook his head, “No, it’ll be fine. The cave’s deemed unstable but nothing has happened and Master is seeing to the lab clean up right now. It’ll be done with soon” he glanced at the brothers, “Think of this like a tour”

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Ronan and Dick led the way as Jason, Tim, and Damian followed. Their minimal conversation had broken down after Ronan had pointed out the slip-up over the biggest elephant in the room. The other group of Kris, jacks, Artemis, Wally, Roy, and Kaldur had set off to run perimeter checks and be taken around by Dick’s teammates. They’d barely been inside the cave when Tim spoke, determined to force a slip up from Dick, to force genuine conversation instead of his strange wordplay, “If this is your mission, why haven't you been inside the cave at all?”

“It’s the Colonel’s mission, we’re merely the tools he brought to complete it,” Ronan said without looking back. Dick nodded but offered a turned cheek, “We’ve been guarding the perimeter against any nomads and civilians crossing through. I’ve only been inside on the opposite end of the cave where the lab is set up for diagnostic review and whatever magic tests Queen Bee wants the delivered crystals to pass”

“And that’s where Slade is?” Tim continued.

Dick nodded, “Today’s our last day so we need to make sure there aren't any wayward lab techs sneaking a handful of crystals or running false tests to justify not bringing back any” Dick waved a hand, “You know how it is when you hire corrupt for the sake of cheaper pay”

Jason scowled, disliking the jab at Redhood's hired thugs in Gotham. When he was building his territory and attacking Sionis more and more, Dick used to suggest going slower and hiring quality men, but Jason wanted quantity over quality, and that earned him a few men that required public displays of punishment and reprimand for everyone to learn how not to cross Redhood.

“You said this whole thing was unstable?” Jason asked as he peered around the tall ceilings. Beside them were tracks that could carry multiple pounds of dug-up crystal but it seemed they’d gotten all they could as there were gaping sections through the cave’s interior and no strange purple crystals. Dick nodded, “Technically yes. Nothing’s happened so far, and as long as we’re gentle and don’t go through with pellet bombs and dynamite, it should be fine”

Damian frowned but he’d yet to speak. His lips were thinned and he kept glancing from Dick to Ronan and back again. Their clothing was far too different from the usual heroes and far too similar to each other. Ronan made a sound in the back of his throat and Dick chuckled, “Well, the dynamite will be coming but that’s when we officially leave and close up shop at the end of the day”

“What?” Tim asked.

Dick nodded, looking forward again, “As soon as we get the all-clear, my team and I will set off a couple of well-placed explosives and take the cave down”

“Why?” Damian asked in confusion.

“Well apparently there’s more crystal material and Queen Bee is on a deadline so she wants it now and doesn't want anyone else coming in for some more while her men are away”

“She’s squandering all of this material just so no one can sneak in and steal any while her men are transporting it?” Tim asked with a disapproving frown.

Dick nodded, “I’m only the messenger” he reminded, “I’m not the one coming up with these shitty plans and deadlines”

Ronan parted his lips to speak when a loud far far-off boom sounded. They all froze and Dick turned sharply to one wall like he could pinpoint the exact location through walls and walls of cave material and rock. The boom quieted to a rumble that seemed to go on and on like a low-grade earthquake. Damian glanced between Jason and Tim, watching their hesitant frozen expressions.

After a few long seconds of quiet rumblings, Jason spoke, “What the f-’

“Shh” Dick said sharply and shortly. Jason looked offended but didn't have time to rebuke when suddenly, the pebbles and small rocks at their feet began vibrating almost to the point of jumping. Within the time it took to inhale, the entire cavern they were in seemed to explode around them. All 5 of them were rocked off their feet and thrown around the cave, smashing into stalagmite columns or the cave walls themselves. 

 

Chapter 11

Notes:

hey there! Another ch. things will start heating up soon so there's not so much back and forth every scene lol. let me know what you think!

The ceiling splintered violently and Dick looked up in time to see a large chunk splinter from the circling and fall straight down, jutting for his chest. He lunged into a tuck and roll just as he heard Ronan cry out and roll in the opposite direction. Dick whipped his head towards Ronan and searched for his curled form amidst the falling ceiling and the building dust. He seemed to have been nailed in the top right shoulder on his back and was holding himself in a hunched position. Dick’s mind fell into a strange buzz that melded fluidly with the overbearing chaos bearing down on them. The crashing rocks and splitting stones didn't phase Dick’s ears or hurt his senses as he scanned for Jason, Tim, and Damian. He spotted them on the far side, further into the cave. Jason had managed to snag a piece of each brother and was struggling to tuck them against himself. No matter how large his torso was, Dick immediately spotted how Damian’s feet stuck out and Tim’s head went uncovered as rocks and cave rubble continued to decimate the cave floor.

He sprinted before he could think; barely hearing Ronan call for him. He reached his brothers as a large thick stalagmite column broke off from the wall and tipped towards the brothers, taking an enormous chunk of the ceiling with it. Dick threw himself on top of Jason, the force of his body rolling them away but further into the cave. He heard the stone shriek and dull cracks and crashes until loud roaring and piercing crumbles were all his senses could attune themselves to. Distantly he was aware of overbearing affliction consuming his back and calves, the sensations were dulled and muted pinpricks beneath the tumultuous adrenaline spike the cave had sent his body into. He heard even more collisions and crashes, a never-ending cacophony of destruction behind him, and realized the entire cave might be coming down. He couldn't hear anything anymore, not the movement of bodies below him, or the calls of his teammate behind him. His world and sense could only discern 2 things: loud, and vibrating.

He felt a thin but heavy rock skim his ear and a body below him flinched. Dick snarled and forced his gyrating body to enlarge however he could. He found himself all but willing his ribcage to enlarge and his arms to extend even further over the bodies beneath him. He spread his arms to the point of aches and pains and gritted his teeth as his ligaments protested. He spread his legs until he felt something soft beneath each thigh and calf. He forced his body down, down, down, until he could do nothing but clench his eyes and wait out the cave’s anger. Eventually, the booming and crashes started to abide in the distance. The lack of destruction followed like osmosis until their own cave channel started to quiet and still. Dick’s eyes were still closed and he felt dust and sand stuck to every crevice of his face and neck. His panic skyrocketed and he held his own breath, listening for 3 heartbeats beneath him. He quickly caught on to equally strong thumping sounds beneath him and Dick released his breath in a heavy pant. His lungs had the courtesy to remind him that he'd been holding his breath for too long and suddenly all he could do was suck in filthy particalized air. He coughed and that jolted Jason out of his huddled form. He shot up, and that forced Dick back to avoid being headbutted, where he rolled from his butt to his back. He hissed loudly and the brothers turned on him immediately. Damian and Tim’s hair as wild and covered in sand and dust, but they seemed fine. Jason was already sporting a bruise on the back of his hand and his chin from when he stood as the only form of protection for Tim and Damian. 

Damian pushed himself to his feet with a wince and that was all Dick needed. He lunged right back and gripped Damian by his upper arms, almost lifting him off his feet, “Where are you hurt?” Dick demanded, scanning every inch of his black-clad legs. Damian struggled, “Richard! Stop! I’m fine!”

Dick ignored him, squeezing tighter to stop his squirming. Damian gasped and Jason jumped the both of them, “Stop Dick!” He grabbed Robin and shoved Dick away with the other hand. Dick stumbled back in surprise but his back hit the now jagged cave wave suddenly and he gasped. His eyes watered from the instantaneous sharp pain that shopt down along his back like lightning. Tim sucked in a breath, “Dick are you alright?”

Jason watched Dick with wide eyes, “What the fuck was that? The bombs you mentioned? Did those fuckheads not listen to orders and blow them early?”

Dick pushed away from the wall and swallowed heavily, “I’m not sure” Jason narrowed his eyes and Dick mirrored the action, “Maybe it’s not obvious, but I’m stuck here with you. Not out there setting off explosives!”

Tim’s grim expression only worsened, “He’s right Jason” Jason looked at Tim before following Tim’s gaze. They all turned to spy the enormous new wall just behind them. The cave-in hadn't killed them but it had trapped them.

“Fuck” Dick cursed. He winced as he straightened. He made his way to the piled rocks and pushed, testing its durability. Tim and Damian gasped at the sight of Dick’s bloodied and gouged back. His shirt was torn and ripped from the neck down to the upper middle of his back where the 2 halves were being kept together by the tackiness of his blood. There were a handful of scrapes and thins cuts but a few jagged heavy points seemed to have nailed Dick in the back, gouging out smaller chunks of flesh and opening deeper rivers of skin. Jason winced, “It’ll be fine” he reassured them, “He heals fucking fast”

Tim nodded but didn't move his gaze and Damian only seemed to fret more.

“Ronan! Dick called. He waited with bated breath but didn’t hear anything, “Ronan! He called again, a firmer urgency in his voice. 

“Dick?” A faint voice called back. Dick’s shoulders visibly fell as their last member was confirmed alive, “You good?” Dick called back.

“Yeah!” he coughed, “I think you’re trapped in there, I can still make it out”

Dick’s lips twisted, “No shit, you don’t say?” he called back sarcastically. Damian snickered and Jason couldn't help the small smile at seeing someone else suffer Dick’s annoying wit.

“Stay there and we’ll get you out, I’ll go back and get the Colonel right away. We’ll figure out what happened”

Dick nodded even though Ronan couldn't see, “It shouldn't be your explosives. You left them with Kris right?”

“Yeah!” Ronan called back, “But let me get help”

“Go get help, but we have to travel further in!” Dick called.

“What? Ren, No! Let me get everyone. Superman can bust through or something”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Yea, great idea. Then the definitely unstable cave will collapse on us again!”

Ronan was silent for a minute as he thought up an alternative solution, “We can’t wait to be dug out so Superman is our only option, but not here. We’re going to go to the other side and follow this path out to the labs”

“Ren, we’ve never taken the whole pathway, no one but the bots have. You don’t know how big or small those spaces are or what will happen if you run into crystals that haven't been excavated-it’s too risky”

“It’ll be fine,” Dick said, “It’s the safest and quickest way. We’ll get closer to the lab and if we can’t get out then Superman can use his vision to find the most stable palace to break through the cave’s roof and find us. I don’t see us surviving another cave collapse if we try to break apart this section again”

Ronan was silent for a moment, “Alright” he relented, “I’ll be back!” he coughed again, and then they heard quick distant pounding fade away as Ronan ran for help. Dick turned back to his brothers only to be thrown back against the wall from the violent sock in the face. Dick’s head whipped to the side as his nose and upper lip took the brunt of the punch. 

“Todd!” Damian exclaimed. Tim was stuck staring in shock, his lips parted.

“He’s fine,” Jason said angrily. His eyes narrowed on Dick, “But now we’ve got nothing to do but spend quality time together” he cracked his knuckles, “And I want some fucking answers”

Dick chuckled and wiped the slight nosebleed that had started, “Don't we all” he said in a breathy voice. 

Jason stepped closer, not at all amused, “What the fuck are you doing Dick?! Deathstroke? Really? I get that you want revenge and everything but you went to Deathstroke the Terminator?! Not Roy?! Not me?! Him!”

Dick narrowed his eyes a little more with every word.

“Say something, dammit!”

“Why?” Dick asked with a quiet deadliness, “So you can order me around again?”

Jason dropped his fist with an angry bark of laughter. He looked up at the cracked ceiling and then back at Dick, “I know we fucked up, but if you’d stuck around long enough to actually listen. You would've heard how fucking sorry we were! Mistakes happen Dickhead, and maybe you didn't clue into this but you're talon shit was a first time for us all”

“That’s never happened like that before Dick, I swear,” Tim said in a rushed manner.

Dick’s eyes narrowed and he took a heaving breath, “Don’t lie” he said quietly, “I remember that night well. You all admitted you’ve used those godforsaken fucking words on me before. Words I can't even remember!” Dick’s voice raised to a roar that had Damian flinching, “You have no idea what it’s like to have a list of words that exist that can wipe your mind to a dull buzz, a nothingness, only to wake up and realize you had no idea what you did! You have a list of words that rob me of my autonomy and I don't! Fuck, the fact that they even exist is cruel enough!” Dick snapped.

“He’s right Richard!” Damian rushed to explain, "There were a handful of times we said something on accident or-or in a certain way and you would just freeze up. Like, you would stand still and wait for something and we weren't sure. So I guess at first we found out the words on accident, and then one time, when you-well you, we-”

“You were a fucking animal” Jason snapped, “Is that what you want to hear? To soothe your fucking woe is me mentality right now?! You were growling and your eyes were bright gold-they always were when you were like that- but we weren't sure how to stop it and didn't want to keep drugging you. God, Dickie, if you couldn't heal fast, the amount of needle marks all over you wou-” Jason was cut short by his own haggard breath, “We tried it one time, to make you sleep, to try and make it easier on you, less painful, and we-”|

“Controlled me” Dick seethed, “You. Fucking. Controlled. Me” I don’t know how many times you have to justify it in how many different ways, “You ordered me around just like the slave Cobb made me to be”

Jason’s eyes flared a vibrancy as his teeth gnashed with pitt madness, “God fucking-Dick, it wasn't us! Bruce-”

“Hah!” Dick threw his head back in one short violent burst, “Don’t even get me started on that hypocrite! Almost throwing you into Arkham for trying to kill your killer and then making you the ultimate exception to anything violent, ever again” Dick slashed his arm through the air, “And then he treats me like I’m the animal, like I’m the danger to everyone. Forcing me to listen to his rules like I’m some long-term guest in my own fucking home. And then he-he goes and fucking kills them all!” Dick’s irises started to pool a strange murkiness and their shade seemed changed but Jason watched, puzzled, as his eyes stayed blue, “He went and killed all my brothers and sisters. All the good ones, the ones that fought back, that thought for themselves…he went and sentenced them to death!”

Dick halted mid-yell and seemed to catch himself. His blood nose hadn't stopped and he hesitantly licked his upper lip, smearing the blood. His chest was heaving with large breaths and he forced himself to slow, taking more appropriate measured lungfuls until his breathing was regulated again. The cave was silent as they waited for Dick to speak.

“Richard” Damian spoke instead, “What father did was awful and unforgivable, but we had no idea what he did until you found it on the computer. Please, believe me. Todd-he even refused to work with Father at first because he didn't want to bring you back to Gotham, just away from Deathstroke” Dick’s eyes flashed to Jason where dark blue clashed with nearly neon green, “And we’re just trying to help, please. Deathstroke is bad for you. He is a poison” " Jason startled, realizing Damian had heard him and Artemis on the ship, “And I think it feels addicting because you are being empowered after so long of being the victim and-”

Dick spoke softly, cutting Damian off without notice, “What I said still, stands. We can't stay here if we want to be rescued. Uncle Clark will be able to break in, with less risk to us, closer to the opposite side of the upper cavern”

Damian's expression seemed to splinter more when Dick didn't abandon his family title for Clark. Dick proceeded forward, parting the brothers without another glance. Jason watched Dick’s bloodied back start to trek further and further into the cave. He sighed and turned on his flashlight, motioning for the others to do the same and follow.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason, Tim, and Damian had been following Dick for a solid half hour; climbing up steep rocky pathways and ducking down into strange sandy crawlspaces. A few times, Jason proved to be too big to crawl through on his belly to squeeze between certain cave pillars, “Looks like you’ll have to play strip poker with the cave walls” Tim joked. Before Jason could snap back, Dick doubled back and snapped his fist through the cave edge, breaking away enough pieces to allow Jacon through with some additional wiggling. Jason watched his brother make his way back to the front of their group, keeping on like nothing was amiss. Jason didn’t like what he was seeing. The silent, tense way Dick worked, the lack of healing his body seemed to be doing for his wounds. Dick’s eyes hadn't been anything but blue since Jason had seen him again. It made a small part of him hopeful that he’d managed or conquered the evolution project that the Court had put him through. Dick’s teammates had still claimed Dick to be enhanced to the point of being titled a meta but nothing Jason was seeing lined up with that. They were in a strange sort of tight cavern that held more moisture than before. The air was no longer dry and stale, but the pathway was somewhat narrow, leading to them walk in a single file line. Damian still winced with every other step but he wasn’t about to announce he was in pain as there was very little anyone could do for him until they got out of the cave.

“If you won't talk to us about the perv, at least tell us what’s going on with your body,” Jason said as he jumped over a protruding rock. Dick faltered from where he was ducking under a low ceiling and looked back briefly, his gaze cold and unfeeling, “What are you talking about?”

Jason snorted and rolled his eyes, “It’s us, dude. You can't BS us for this long. Besides, your eyes aren't changing colors and you aren't healing. What happened? Does the Light have you on some weird meta-dampening crap?”

“I’m fine” was all Dick said.

“Richard, no one is doubting your pain tolerance but you do seem wholly unaffected by the Court…externally”

Dick grimaced and faced forward, “It’s none of your concern”

Jason balked, “None of our con-”

He stopped in surprise as their cavern opened up into a much larger room at least 5 times in size, The ceilings were suddenly extremely high and their pathway extended out to accommodate at least 5 people. The air seemed to hold more moisture and light filled the cavern in a way that didn't need any flashlights.

“Damn,” Tim breathed as they gazed around in a stupor. There were strange neon green plants with purple flowers protruding from the walls. The leaves were a strange luminescent color with dark solid veins running throughout and the long thin purple flowers in the center seemed to hold a different texture. Dick made his way over to a low hanging one and ran his fingers along the violet flower. In the center of each flower, along the long violet stem, held small diamond-like attachments. Dick leaned in and sniffed the flower when his eyes flew wide open, “Don't breath!” he barked. 

Jason, who was just leaning in for a curious lungful, froze.

“Why?” Tim asked.

Without explanation, Dick barked, “Oxygen. Now!”

The brothers automatically reached for their waists and retrieved the small rebreathers that Batman had them equipped with for patrol, most commonly used for nights against Scarecrow and his gases. Jason was pulling the strap over his head when he demanded to know what was going on.

“These are the crystals we dug up” Dick explained as he backed away, “We were informed that only robots and AI carts could retrieve the crystals. From there, the lab techs do something to them and they’re packaged into air-tight bags and then boxed”

“Are they toxic?” Damian gasped. Dick’s expression soured at Damian's halted movements and he stomped over to Damian. He cupped the back of his head to compress the mask more securely forward. He tightened the strap, ignoring Damian’s complaints, and made his way over to Tim who stopped him, “What about you?” he asked.

Dick shook his head, “Humans aren't supposed to be this far into the cave. I assumed it was to keep secrets at bay, but either way, there was no need for us to have any oxygen masks. I’ll be fine. Contrary to popular belief, I do have quicker regeneration. My lungs will last longer” he sent a look Jason’s way but the young man was already glaring back at Dick. 

“No, Dick-”

“What would you have us do?” Dick asked calmly, almost like a parent. No, like the patience that old Dick had for each of his brothers, “I can last longer than each of you and we have 3 masks. We need to keep on until we face another problem that we can't move past. That’s all we can do until we reach the opposite entrance”

Tim struggled to say something and looked at Jason for support. Jason looked furious but crossed his arms, “Are you going to die or do we have to go back and wait in that stupid cramped alley?”

Dick leveled him a serious look, “I’ll be fine” he replied, “Stay back from the flowers. I don't know what the Light’s scientists do to make them safe to handle”

They continued their trek onward, and for a while, Dick had himself convinced that he was fine. That the oversensitivity he felt through the immensely thick souls of his boots wasn’t a strange reaction from his nervous system, due to whatever he’d inhaled, but rather the creeping anxiety and anger he’d been holding at bay. He should have been more careful, Slade will kill me, he thought vaguely. Who in their right mind would go up to a desolate empty cave and smell a glow-in-the-dark flower while working for Queen Bee? At this point, he deserved whatever bioluminescent toxins were filtering through his bloodstream. It registered to him that if he was still, or just starting to, feel the effects of one sniff with his, albeit dampened, senses then his brothers would have been on the floor unconscious or seizing at this point. 

Every time he had to touch a wall or grasp a rock to offer his body a steadying balance, he felt each and every bump, crack, and sharp edge the cave had to offer. It pressed against his palm, it caressed his fingers, it tickled his nailbeds and soon, the overabundance of feelings and senses was all he could think about to keep himself moving forward, to maintain a solid stance before his younger brothers; who were following closely behind. He knew he had started to fail in his presentation at his first stumble. His vision wavered, just enough for him to second guess himself and assume he’d blinked 1 second too long, but the next second found his foot just a hair off its intended course, and then his hand had lurched out to catch his tilting torso. The sound of his gloved palm slapping the stone, only to scrape as he tried to catch himself, was overly loud in the cave’s cavern; echoing one too many times as if to spite Dick. He was somewhat thankful when his brothers did nothing more than stare down his back with laser focus. His skin had started to prickle in the last few minutes which meant either the toxins were deep into his bloodstream or he’d finally started to heal. He licked his upper lip, noting his bloody nose had stopped and only dried charred flakes remained.

They stepped around a strange bend that required them to climb over a hump and slide under a low roof all within the same movement. The moment Dick straightened out he froze at the sight of Batman. He blinked, stunned. His brothers started to join him one by one without announcing any concern and Dick felt his stomach start to flip uneasily, he was hallucinating again. Was it just his brain that resorted to mind tricks every time his body failed him or were those crystal flowers some sort of natural hallucinogenic? Dick glared venomously at Batman as they brushed past him. His figure was tall and imposing, but his cape hung over his shadows like an additional coverage of intimidation of shadows personified. Like a cheap haunted mansion, only his white narrowed eyes seemed to follow Dick’s movements. Not 5 minutes later, Dick and his brothers stumbled across Cobb. Dick must not have been refraining from expressing himself very well because Tim asked, “Dick? Are you alright?”

Dick was prepared, “Yes” he snapped.

“You keep glancing at that wall,” Damian said softly.

“I can’t fucking look around?” Dick asked with a sharp look over his shoulder. He turned back too quickly and his vision wavered violently. For a half second, Dick wasn't sure what was up and what was straight ahead of him. With futile hope, he proceeded forward like there was no distortion stealing his vision’s balance, but that didn't work out as planned. His foot caught something and Dick found his face meeting the jagged rough stone floor of the cave all too quickly.

“That’s it” Jason cursed. His little, but larger, brother swooped down and hoisted Dick to his feet with an arm over his shoulder. Dick groaned as his world seemed to tilt every other way Jason positioned him. With every breath, his muscles seemed to lose motivation to work as pillars of strength they were meant to be. Everywhere he touched seemed to send electrifying jolts of sensation across his skin and into his body. Everything was quickly becoming too much and Dick couldn't stop the short panic that forced its way between his ribcage.

“He’s starting to hyperventilate” he heard Tim say.

“We need to do something!" Damian cried.

“You think we don't know that brat? What are we supposed to do? We don't have anything to cover his face, but that stupid ass cloth and he won't be real with us about what's going on with him and his healing!”

“It’s slowed but still there,” Tim said and Dick swore there was a slight caress of fingers around each and every deep cut across his back; eliciting violent shivers. Dick realized he was hanging off his younger brother like a drunk and bit the inside of his cheek over the helpless he felt. He heard footsteps echo closer but when he managed to blink enough times and clear his vision, he was stunned to see his grandfather and Vandal Savage now before him. Cobb was dressed in a blinding white suit, the same one he always wore when he allowed Dick out of that god-awful white room. The room where nothing but white and blinding nothingness existed. When even his pain and self-inflicted wounds dulled to a strange soothing buzz-

Dick shook his head to rid his thoughts of their place in his head, but that only allowed Vandal Savage to make himself more known. Jason hefted him higher from where he was slumping further down his arms, but Dick only had eyes for the strange dark-haired man. He had wild dark hair and a beard to match his eyes; almost like he existed without pupils. The same focused intensity that Dick felt back at Luthor's party was prominent, invading his skin and digging its way into his core via his pores and eyes. Even in this hellish hallucination, the man seemed to be demanding something unsaid but important. He didn't reach for him and Dick wasn't dismissed to go wander about, while he was discussed about like a prime slab of beef. Slade had half a thought to turn to his left where Slade always stood, demanding that Dick take up his right in a symbolic show of solidarity and support-

“Ick”

“Dck”

“Dick!” Dick jerked his gaze away from his grandmast-granfather and Savage, dragging his attention to his brothers. He spotted Tim and Jason, but just beyond them stood Lincoln and Dick recoiled in surprise, essentially ripping himself from Jason’s hold, “No no nonononononono”

He needed to get away, but his muscles were refusing to listen, refusing to obey him. His back stung, his palms tickled against every surface, and his head felt like a black hole, eating and destroying whatever was thought up and created the second it was made into existence. The tickling was starting to ache-no it hurt. it was burning even. When had his skin become so heated?

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jason bit his lip as he watched his brother struggle against invisible demons. Whatever Dick had been breathing in, while they marched along the moist cave walls, had ingrained itself into him too deeply. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, his pupils dilated to hell. He wouldn't stop glancing at the same few spots against the cave walls and was slowly becoming more limp and useless in Jason’s arms.

“He’s hallucinating,” Tim said, already starting to panic, “He-he’s looking at stuff that’s eye height and in the same places. He-god, Jason what if he has another episode? We don't know how to help him”

“Fuck” Jason breathed. They’d been taking their walk at a slow pace because Dick didn't want their increased breaths to rob them of their stored oxygen. If they elevated their heart rates with quicker paces, they'd marginally use up more air, but Jason had no idea what the cave air was doing to his brother and would rather not risk any more exposure because Dick wanted to be soft on them. Without consulting his younger brothers, Jason squatted down and grabbed Dick by the waist, hefting him up and over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. Jason grunted but noticed that Dick had once again shed some of the strange steroid weight that had bulked him up to disproportionate sizes before. While his brother was still unexpectedly tall and broad, he could feel his sharp hipbones cutting into his shoulder from his position. Jason started a quicker pace, almost a jog, and forced himself to ignore the strange mutterings and ramblings from Dick. His brother’s breath was uneven and he often spoke complete sentences under his breath like a mantra out of context.

He could take a guess that Dick was at least seeing William Cobb, but who or what else was haunting him was beyond Jason, and it infuriated him. He wanted to know what was going on in Dick's brain like he always used to. He wanted to be the equal that Dick relied on like back in High school. How Dick let Jason play the big bad bully for him and others up until it became physical and he risked expulsion. He wanted to be able to determine which smiles were fake and catered, and which were genuine. He wanted to punch Slade Wilson until the man's bone structure cracked and popped. After another 10 minutes of speed walking and jogging along slopped pathways and rocky narrow hallways, Damian cried out, “We need to start yelling for Superman. He will be able to pinpoint where we are and either break through further along the trail or right above us”

“If it's even safe” Tim argued.

Jason shrugged as he struggled with wiggling through a narrow space with Dick on his back. It was an awkward movement that Dick was best left unaware of, “Have at it brat. If you can get Clark down here before we lose our oxygen trying to find this nonexistent other entrance” Jason managed through and threw Dick higher up on his shoulder with a grunt, “I’ll be somewhat impressed. We’ve got to be pretty deep with how much we’ve been walking down and not up”

He sent a look Tim’s way but the younger boy waved his arms in frustration, “I can’t say for certain. We have no tech to help us pinpoint anything”

After more senseless and pointless arguing, Damian took position at the back of their group and started calling for Batman and Superman. He started off extremely loud, crying with full large breaths but when they didn't get a response in the form of the boy scout breaking down the cave rooftop for them, he relaxed his efforts to preserve his voice and remaining oxygen. 

 

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

 

“Superman!”

“Mmmmno” Dick moaned weakly against his back. His torso and arms were dangling limply across Jason’s back, and every now and then his fingertip would brush a part of Jason’s upper calves and earn him a shudder.

 

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

 

Tim was grumbling about something again.

 

“Superman!”

 

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

 

Jason had a verified headache and regretted not taking Barbra up on her suggestion to carry around a go-to ibuprofen bottle. He’d mocked her stating he wasn't about to start his period and had the pain resistance of Batman, he’d be fine.

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

“Superman!”

He was not fine.

 

Jason was seconds from turning and telling Damian that for once, Jason was wrong and that Damian should shut his mouth if he wanted to make it out of this desert. A sharp crack sounded above them and they froze, turning upward in a reflectively fluid motion. The cave ceiling cracked again and again. A few rocks started to rain down on them and Jason’s eyes widened, “Fuck-duck!” he roared.

He reached out and yanked Tim to him by his collar, he balanced Dick on his shoulder, reaching for Damian with his other hand. They fell as a pile against the cave wall together. Jason stepped on and crawled over every limb he could until he was draped messily over all of them. He clenched his eyes against what might be a second complete cave-in, but felt surprise and hope flare when a different light filtered in between his lids. It was a more yellow, brighter light than what the cave of plants had offered. This light held a value of warmth that the flowers’ glow did not. Jason gasped and pushed himself up, only half aware of how his brothers were his leverage and not the ground. Tim said something angrily but Jason was too busy squining past the bright light filtering down on them. There was now about a 5-foot hole in the cavern above them but very little debris around them. His questions were answered as Superman appeared in the hole and floated down to them. His expression was one of relief and concern, “I’m sorry it took this long to get in here” he said quickly. He looked at Damian who was slowly uncurling, “I heard you the first time but Wilson’s lab techs insisted that it wasn’t safe to break the cave so close to the plants’ spores.

“So they do emit toxins” Tim gasped.

Superman nodded, “Of some kind apparently. Is everyone okay?”

Jason heaved a sigh and let himself collapse back onto his butt, “Everyone except this asshole” he jerked a thumb to Dick’s still form. Clark’s brow crunched in quick concern and he knelt at Dick’s side instantly. Damian said, “We found the plants and Richard made us wear our gas masks, but he said he didn't have one. He was alright at first and then he started stumbling and Todd carried him when he could no longer walk”

Tim came to his side to add details that might help, “I think he’s hallucinating. He kept looking around at the same few places and his pupils are super dilated” 

“Yea, yea, yea,” Jason said, “He’s fucked, Damian’s hurt” Superman looked to Damian and scanned his skeleton quickly, “And we’re all tired. Can you lift us out of here? I’ll go last”

Superman nodded, “I’ll take Dick and Damian first. Damian, I think it’s just a sprain” Damian sniffed in annoyance, but didn't fight the way his pseudo-uncle bent down for him to climb onto his back. He knelt down beside Dick and slid his hands under his thighs and upper back. Dick tried to cringe away, his eyes fluttering and focusing on something just behind Clark. He shook his head but his efforts to resist did very little in the end. Despite Dick’s whines and groans of protest, he was easily lifted. He stood up and Jason internally cringed at how Dick’s neck fell back sharply, baring his throat in a way his older brother would hate to be on display. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Superman was quick in returning for Jason and Tim. Jason had threatened Tim with death by a thousand guns if he left Jason to be picked up like some simpering bride. Superman landed after, releasing Tim from his embarrassing hold quickly. He quickly led the boys further inside a covering of tent canvas tops that flowed into a slightly smaller cave opening. The entire area was covered with partially bagged hardened pieces of flower cores and medical equipment. A table to his right was entirely dedicated to reading the carbon monoxide outputs of the leaves apparently. Beyond the rows and rows of silver medical tables, and men and women wearing white coats and aprons, Jason could see a small, narrow outlet that was most likely their intended course of exit from within the cave. There were multiple layers of vented mesh hanging over the opening and a stack of boxes beside it. A gathering of bodies drew Jason’s attention to where Dick and Damian were laid out. Damian was leaning all his weight on one foot and had his torso hovering over Dick’s. Dick was splayed out and staring up at the save ceiling and canvas tents with a distant focus that was slightly troubling. His lips were parted but nothing comprehensible left his lips.

Beside Dick’s form, Deathstroke the Terminator stood with his arms crossed. He and Batman were less than a foot apart, watching the other with a level of aggression that everyone could taste, “This is what happens to everyone you touch Wilson” Bruce spat. He pointed a finger at Dick’s inconsistently rising chest. Slade’s attention slowly dragged down to Dick and his gaze was unimpressed. He looked back to Bruce, “You mean the young man who died on your watch?” Slade shook his head a small smile coming to his unmasked face, “Or the one that was kidnapped not even a year after escaping the Court of Owls on his own?” His expression darkened considerably, “Or do you mean the ward that ran from you 2 years ago?”

“Open your eyes, Wayne” Slade spat in a rare moment of unadulterated wrath, “They are one and the same because you don't know how to keep your sons, your life, or your possessions safe. Your attempt to displace the blame is purely laughable”

Bruce’s masked eyes narrowed to slits and the only thing that kept Bruce from swinging on Deathstroke in that moment was Jason’s call, “Hey! What the fuck happened?!”

Everyone stopped and turned to him, even some of the remaining scientists that were slowly being guided towards the tents and remaining truck beds, “A fucking cave came down on us and then we found fucked up killer crystals!?”

Tim nodded with a dark frown, just as eager to hear an explanation. Batman turned to face his sons, calmer now in the face of their familiar anger, “Group B ran into some of Queen Bee’s soldiers and a fight ensued. Some of the soldiers had explosives on them, that shouldn't have been able to do very much damage, but rocked the ground just enough to cause a cascading effect”

“Are you serious?” Tim balked angrily, “That was an accident?”

Ronan nodded from where he stood beside Dick’s bedside now as well, “The rest of our teams subdued the attackers and have been radioed to report back. Apparently, they weren't receptive to your team’s presence so an escalation was difficult to avoid”

Jason crossed his arms, “2 of your douchebag team members, and our mostly meta team couldn't handle some of Queen Bee’s lackeys?” he scoffed in obvious disbelief.

Superman placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder, “We’re not sure of the full story yet which is why we’ve asked them back. I would've got to get them sooner but you 4 were the priority”

“Did Damian tell you what happened?” Tim asked as his attention flickered to Dick.

“No” Damian spat, “They’ve been too busy arguing”

“Batman! Dick might need medical attention!” Tim barked. Batman opened his mouth to speak but Slade cut him off, “He’ll be fine. Rest will purge the airborne toxins from his system quickly enough”

Tim growled, “We were stuck in that cavern with nothing but stale cave air and those flowers! Who knows what’s happening to him right now!?”

Slade crossed his arms in response, “You think I’ve had my men out here supervising magic plants with no idea as to how serious any secondhand effects may be?”

Tim didn't respond to Slade’s sly tone. Slade smirked, “Redrobin” he all but purred, “There is no need to be so concerned for my apprentice. The flowers had hallucinogenic properties when unfiltered. They have qualities that affect the subconscious mental landscape and the part of the brain that influences dreams. The worst that would happen would be an induced coma if one of you were to have spent enough time without any breathing equipment”

His lips curled into a devilish smile, “But I see that deciding who would shoulder the greatest risk was quite an easy decision for the 4 of you” he said in a silky tone. Jason blinked and everything was green. Everything shined glints of emerald and veridian. Damian’s eyes even glowed a certain vibrancy that he’d never seen before. Before he realized it, his hand was around Slade’s collar and a cacophony of roars and yells were sounding off at him from every direction. Slade’s hands were on his wrists in seconds and Jason found himself wrenched to the side. The air left his lungs as his back was thrust into one of the cave walls but his bones felt just as full of anger, and his grip was just as tight. All he could see was that damn pleased blue eye. That slight crinkle in his cheek that betrayed Slade’s true emotions, and the way his shoulders exuded a smugness, that ate at Jason’s very soul.

He choked, losing some of his rage-fueled hyperfixation as Slade’s beefy forearm crushed his windpipe back as well. He choked and garbled a growl as he reached for Slade’s smug face and clawed at him. He kicked out but that only seemed to allow Slade’s forearm and elbow deeper into his throat, wringing a genuine choking gasp from him. As his air left him, clarify returned and the green sickly shade seemed to dissipate from his field of view as well. Batman and Redrobin had sharp bo-staffs pointed at Slade’s back and Superman looked to be holding back both parties from further escalation. Damian had moved closer but not removed himself from Dick’s side completely. Ronan had; however, and held a gun not inches away from Batman’s head, keeping him from attacking his master.

“Ahhh” Slade purred, “There we go,” he said almost with a sing-song lilt, “Is the green gone, little boy?” he said, and the degrading tone nearly sent Jason spiraling back down. He seethed and gulped as much as he could, but fell still. He clenched his blunt nails into Slade’s arm as deeply as he could but knew that the worst he was doing was leaving crescent-shaped imprints in the meta’s skin. Slade watched for a minute more before stepping away and releasing him completely. He nodded to Eerie and the man dropped his aim and stepped away on command. Slade made his way back to Dick’s side, ignoring the way Damian tried to crowd Dick’s space. He passed Batman with a single glance, “Control your mutts better” he said with a distasteful look.

Slade withdrew a small clear syringe from a slim pouch against his thigh and placed it against Dick’s inner elbow before anyone could react. He pressed the plunger and before the entire contents were even gone, Dick’s neck shot back and his legs tensed, his toes pointing forward like he’d been electrocuted. Dick’s chest rose and fell violently as he suddenly started panting. His eyes shot wide open and his mouth gaped like he’d run a mile.

“Was that adrenaline?” Tim was stunned. There’d been no prep, no alcohol swab of the skin. Slade hadn't even sought to make sure the syringe’s contents were free from dangerous air bubbles. Slade didn't respond, instead waiting for Dick to calm down. He gasped and groaned, coughing every now and then between his heaving breaths. Eventually, he gained enough self-awareness to sit up more on his own and jumped when he felt Slade’s hand against the base of his nape. He looked around wildly until he caught sight of Slade and his bones seemed to collapse in on the shelves, “Master” he breathed. Unaware of all the blatant stares around them, “I-I” he swallowed heavily, “I don’t remember what happ- Cobb was there. I saw him but Savage-”

“Vandal Savage?” Damian exclaimed in shock. Dick jumped violently and turned to spy Damian on his other side. His eyes went wide as he started to gaze around and realize the multitude of eyes on his being. He was at a loss for words but Slade took over, “You were exposed to unregulated, unfiltered pollen crystals, apprentice. Are you still seeing anything”

Dick nodded, gazing around in a slight stupor. Slade smirked as if realizing that Dick wasn’t sure what was true and not, just yet, “Are you still seeing Willaim or Savage?” he corrected. Dick looked back at him hesitantly before shaking his head, “I” he glanced back towards the canvas tents, “Lincoln is here” he said in a dazed, low tone that was most likely not intended to be said out loud. Slade nodded, his face blank, “Close your eyes and lay back. Do not fall asleep” he ordered. Dick glanced back towards the same spot before nodding. He was about to slide back down to his back when the rest of the team returned in a loud burst of voices, “Batman! Superman! What happened?” Roy asked.

He, Wally, and Artemis led the group while Kaldur pulled up the tail of the group behind Kris and Jacks. Kris and Jacks spotted Ronan against the far wall before finding Dick in a half-collapsed position on the medical table, “Ren! Dick!” They each exclaimed, making their way closer. Wally made it there first, a flash of yellow wind that made Dick tense as Wally reached his side before he could blink, “What happened?” he demanded.

“You did!” Damian said angrily.

“What?” he jerked back slightly.

“Fuck” Artemis said, “The explosion” Kaldur stated in understanding. 

“Whatever you guys did, trapped us down there,” Tim said in a slightly calmer voice, his expression still tight and tense, “Dick didn't have any equipment on him and we ended up finding the magic plants that Queen Bee wants. He wouldn't let us give him a mask and whatever effects those things give off had really gotten to him”

“He’s hallucinating,” Ronan said quietly to Kris and Jacks, still to be heard by everyone around the table.

“I’m not!” Dick spat defensively.

Jason and Tim sent him unconvinced looks, “You’re under the influence of magic Dick you-”

“I'm fine!” Dick argued, turning to a spot beside the table where no one stood. Dick’s brothers fell silent and Dick noticed immediately, casting an uncertain glance back toward where Lincoln was standing, “Fuck” he breathed. He ran a hand through his hair as worry built up in his chest. His loud mouth and unreliable reality were a liability around his family and old teammates. 

“Yes, you are kid” Slade commented with a humoring nod. Dick jerked, “Fuck, I said that out loud?”

Jason smirked as some of the tension eased from their surrounding circle, “Are you alright, Richard?”

Dick looked back down to Damian with a softened expression. He seemed to allow himself all of 30 seconds to take in the presence of his baby bird, watching him with such soft attentive eyes, “Yes Robin. I am”

As if a switch was flicked. Dick pushed himself off the medical bed and to his feet. He wobbled but the tall redhead was at his side in an instant, offering his arm to steady his team lead. Dick gave him an appreciative nod before shrugging him off. His back was exposed to everyone as he stood to face Slade and Jason noted how his healing had picked up enough for the gouges in his back to be nothing more than severe-looking scratches with dried blood flaking off.

“I think I should excuse myself, Master” Dick requested quietly. Slade gave Dick a considering look, “No”

Dick looked up in shock. He was half aware, high off magic, and seeing people he wasn't sure were really there. To have him as an active mission participant would be a huge liability. Slade seemed to expect his exact thought process, “Endurance, my apprentice” was all he said. Dick clenched his jaw to keep from replying in a way that Sade would only accept in the privacy of his own room. He glanced around, hating the weight of everyone’s attention on him. He caught sight of Batman in the back, beside a hovering Superman, and Dick held his breath, watching the Dark Knight. He studied his cowl and the way his shoulders accepted the weight of his cape. He looked at the edges of his shoulders and the tips of his mask’s ears but couldn't find any sign of wavering.

“He’s real,” Damian said. Dick pulled his gaze away to look at Robin. Damian’s mask was still in place but it didn't feel like it, “Father is real, Richard”

Dick scowled, hating Damian’s lack of verbal etiquette, “I know what’s real” he frowned. He sent Slade a scathing glare for forcing him to participate despite his unreliable reality and vision, uncaring of how he would see his disrespect. He stepped back a few steps and crossed his arms, waiting for someone else, anyone else to move the topic elsewhere. Tim was the one who spoke, earning a nod from Jason, “We have a few things to take care of:” he announced, “We need to confirm what exactly happened here” he said with a pointed look at their 3rd group, “We need to convene and make sure there’s some sort of cataloged report of every inch of this palace, and I also want a sample” Tim said, rubbing his chin in thought.

Batman nodded, “We’ve already got one sample” he informed Tim.

“You can’t take too much or you’ll risk turning this into something else” Kris reminded the group of heroes, “You are supposed to make it look like you happened upon this after us"

“A bit late for that,” Wally said, “There at least 10 of her men that know we’re here already”

Kris shook her head, “They’ll be dealt with”

Batman stepped forward angrily, “You are not killing them” he warned.

Kris looked at Batman with a cautiousness that held her tongue. She glanced back to Slade who gave her a subtle nod. She didn't respond further but Jason saw the silent order passed between the small group of contract mercenaries. Queen Bee would no doubt be informed of an accidental explosion that had gone off, killing her men at the same time the Justice League raided her closed-down base of operations. Slade reviewed some sort of data reading on the inside of his wrist where a small screen and data pad were located, “Well, you are welcome to do as you please…for now” he added as an afterthought. 

“My men and I will be off with the last shipment, but I will admit, I’m curious how long this partnership and cohabitation will last” his single eye dragged up and down Batman and Superman.

Batman growled, “You will stay in contact Wilson” he snarled lowly. Damian jerked and turned to Batman, aghast, “Wh-Father! You can't mean that we're leaving Richard with these lowlifes?” he exclaimed

Dick, despite his state and building worry smirked at Damian’s inability to leave out insults in the heat of the moment. Beside him, Jacks grumbled about spoiled superhero kids. Bruce kept his face directed at Wilson but his gaze was dragged to Dick’s form against the wall behind Slade. He’d quickly caught on to the fact that Dick’s hallucinations involved himself and the Court. He’d seen The way Dick studied him still, looking at him like he’d find an anomaly in the way he moved his fingers, or shifted his feet. Bruce had pushed his son too hard and it had resulted in him running from them and into danger personified. Bruce would never rest until his son was safe and away from Deathstroke the Terminator, but he was starting to realize that unless he convinced Dick to lower his guard, he’d never have the opening nor opportunity to steal Dick back to Gotham away from dangerous influences. 

Slade seemed to find Damian amusing as well but didn't deign his response with one of his own. Instead, he turned to face Batman, “Unless you are committing to having my name and yours down on the same piece of contractual paper then all you have is my word, which,” he said haughtily, “I had already provided. 

“Not all of us have an enormous trust fund to substitute the very existence in which we prevail off of, Wayne. I have work to do and my men have been obligated to petty watchman work long enough. We will be off” his smug aura seemed to lessen slightly and a more amused tone took its place, “Rest assured that you will hear from me when we are sent out again. I’ve a rather long to-do list from the Light”

Batman didn't let it rest, “You will not murder” he demanded. Slade stopped from his partial turn and looked to Bruce with a raised brow. The edges of his goatee were on the verge of a curious smile, “Oh?” he purred in a way that begged, try me.

“It’s no use, Wilson. I know what you’ve been dragging my son all over the world to do and De Longe’s death was not a coincidence the same day you're there and then gone” Batman narrowed his eyes dangerously, “If you are going to reap the benefits our partnership offers you, you will refrain from throwing my son further into your demented practices and mindset that everything in the world can be fixed with a bullet and blood”

Dick stiffened from where he was leaning against the wall behind his master but he merely narrowed his eyes at the floor and kept silent. 

Slade lifted his chin slightly, “Ahhh” he said finally. He cast a glance back at Dick who lifted his long dark lashes just barely enough to make eye contact when he felt his master’s demanding gaze. Slade looked back at Batman, “You’ll not hear of any murders committed” he said in a somewhat polite tone, “Although, I do find it amusing that you underestimate young Richard here so severely. After everything you’ve put him through, one would think that his capability and endurance would be the last thing to be questioned”

Bruce’s lip lifted in a snarl but Slade spoke again, “I’ll send a message to alert you when we are being sent out again” he turned and Dick, Kris, Rionan, and Jacks all fell into step behind him. They exited the cave and made their way into the canvas tents and to the waiting trucks parked just beyond, making sure to avoid eye contact with the simmering heroes surrounding them. Dick was the last to disappear around the corner, turning just at the perfect angle for his profile to be visible. He offered a quick intimate look to Damian’s stone still form from his periphery, but his footsteps never faltered, and he was gone from view within the time it took Damian to exhale.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick watched as his team helped strap down everything into the last 2 trucks and corral the remaining scientists into the back of the canvassed personnel truck, “Why did you promise to stop tracking down the Court?” Dick asked the moment he felt Slade’s presence at his back. Slade didn't respond and Dick looked behind him only to realize that Slade was much closer and directly behind him. Dick settled for tilting his head back in a motion that bore his throat to the world’s deadliest killer. His head met Slade’s collarbone and he couldn't help but acknowledge how he wasn't even to Slade’s chest at 17. Now, the only people who topped his height and stature were Bruce, Jason, and Deathstroke; and not by very much.

Slade’s face was unreadable as he took in his apprentice’s cloudy dilated eyes. Dick continued to stare, letting Slade know he would persistent for an answer. Slade cocked his head and a small smile made itself known, “When did I promise that, kid?”

Dick frowned, feeling instantly played and duped in one fell swoop. Slade reached forward and Dick felt his large solid arms wrap around his chest until his gloved fingers were rested against his throat and collarbone. Slade idly tapped his fingers against Dick’s collarbone, “All I did was promise that the dear old bat would hear nothing of any murder. I made no vow for anything beyond his ears and eyes”

Slade’s eye darkened and Dick flushed. He knew it was a pathetic mistake to take Slade at his word. The man never lied, but also never told you the truth. It was a difficult game to play that Dick’s weakened mind was not up to par to handle quite yet.

Slade seemed to understand and one hand lifted to clasp the dark-haired man on the shoulder. He squeezed firmly, but not tightly, offering just the right amount of pressure against his neck and collarbone. Dick felt the urge to sigh, the want to relax back into the grip and let the aches and pains of the horrible day melt through the tips of his fingers and toes. He frowned, realizing how weak his mental commentary was sounding; and not liking it one bit. He cleared his throat and pulled away with an amenable look to his Master. The man offered a brow in interest as Dick placed a hair's width of distance between them and rolled his shoulders back, "There's shit to do" he grumbled as he glanced away. His skin yearend for that warm, firm contact to replace itself again, but his skin itched with the overabundance of weakness and helplessness he'd found himself in recently. He may be able to recover quicker than most, but it was obvious how quickly and sloppily he was slipping up. Slade allowed him the distance, offering a low beguiled chuckle in response. He clenched his fists at his side as he found some soldiers to bark at, the spur and movement of active authority making him feel much more in control of himself and his body. He'd had enough of feeling weak.

 

Chapter 12

Notes:

Hey there! new ch is up. let me know your thoughts

Batman didn’t waste a second. He turned to Jason and Tim, “What happened?” he demanded.

Jason narrowed his eyes spitefully, “What happened?” he repeated. He jabbed Bruce in the chest, “I’m supposed to be the one demanding to know what happened?! We went down there with Dick and his fucking lackey only to be bombed and almost drugged by some fucking magic flowers-and then you go and let Wilson take Dick again!?”

“You didn't even want him coming home with Father” Damian added unhelpfully.

Jason spun around with his arms raised, “I don't fucking care what I said before! Dick’s been killing who knows who with who knows what for 2 years” Jason held up a finger, “He won't talk to us about the fact that he's healing slowly and his eyes are suddenly freaking normal-”

“Dick’s not healing anymore?” Kaldur asked with wide eyes.

Jason turned to Tim with wide eyes, “That fucker doesn't know what he’s doing or why he’s doing it” he shared a frantic glance with Roy as the redhead stepped closer, “He’s pulling a me!” Jason yelled, “Right out of the fucking pit, all wild and uncontrollable and choosing the literal worst person for help-”

Damian cast his gaze downward at the mention of his mother.

“Jason” Tim cut him off with a hand on his wrist, “We’ll get him back” his voice solidified suddenly, “We will”

He sent a look to Bruce that was more of a threat and less of a request for reassurance. Bruce nodded, not put off at all by the breakdown between his sons, “Jason’s right. Dick is trying to distance himself from us but he’s failing to prove it when it matters most. We need to keep contact with Wilson to break down these barriers Wilson has helped him put into place”

“You want us to chase Wilson all over the world for his contracts?” Artemis asked with slight surprise. 

Bruce nodded like it wasn't unreasonable. He looked to Superman, “We’ll need to reconvene with the JL and separate duties better, but this new threat that the Light poses demands the League's attention”

Superman nodded in agreement, “We need to circle back to the States but we can re-group and set aside a full-fledged team, dedicated to helping Dick, while retrieving everything we can from the missions Deathstroke tells us about”

“How do we know he won't lie about this?” Damian asked.

"He will" Artemis all but vowed, "I know men like Deathstroke"

Wally nodded, “He was pretty quick to promise. He said he'd stop killing the Court’s members while this agreement is in place” His tone was layered with distrust.

Batman crossed his arms, “A handful of this current team will stay behind to monitor the situation. Dick’s tracker is still somewhere in his belongings and he hasn't thrown them out just yet. Make no mistake, the compromise is to keep Dick close and to lower his guard, not to appease Deatshtroke”

“I will have my son home and safe by the time the Light is dismantled and Deathstroke is imprisoned for life” he vowed to the group before him.

Superman parted his lips before crossing his arms in a show of firmness, “Bruce. I know that my acceptance and awareness of the situation may have given you and the boys a second wind, but keep in mind that there is still a transition period we need to breach now”

“What?” Wally asked. 

Superman glanced at the youth surrounding them but tried to maintain the mentor, student boundary by only addressing the Dark Knight, “We all need to go back home and recuperate. If only for a week or so. In that time, the kids” he gestured vividly to Wally’s almost mended leg, “Can rest up and seek medical attention that’s been lacking in this non-stop chase. And we” he emphasized, “Can speak properly with the rest of the League. We can dictate who will stay behind, who will watch the kids at home, who will man the watch tower. Everyone else can be directed to different roles to help us stay on top of Deathstroke and any quick moves he makes” Superman’s gaze hardened, “We need to hope for the best and expect the worst from him. He knows we’ll be trying to play nice to vy for Dick’s attention in a positive way”

Batman’s lips thinned and Clark was desperate for the other man to see reason, “The week or two may be a delay short time, but in the grand scheme of things, if we are forced to take on the Light with minimal preparation, we’ll be so much better off if we already have teams at home, to protect our individual cities, and teams abroad to help us combat whatever the Light reveals”

“I want to go after them, but this may be our best option” Roy commented. Kaldur nodded sternly, “We only just got an idea of what the Light’s planning within the last few days. Imagine what we may find out after we have a chance to review everything you, RedRobin, Robin, and Hood took from Queen Bee’s base. It may give us an advantage that decides much more than predicted later on in this fight, it might even alter how we should proceed and handle the Light’s members too”

Bruce metaphorically bit his lip. He knew what Superman was suggesting was the best plan. It was efficient and proactive and didn't deter any other plans too severely. The detective part of his brain had suggested it days ago even, but the parent inside him was warring with Gotham's protector. He wanted his son back now. Batman crossed his arms, “We have a maximum of 10 days back home. Redrobin" he turned to his second youngest, “Contact Oracle and Miss Martian and update them on when we’ll be back in Gotham. Red Arrow, call your uncle and have him inform the other Leaguers that an emergency League meeting will be called within the next 4 days. Robin” he turned to his youngest, “Work with Hood and Redrobin to pinpoint Dick’s location and monitor at least once every hour. Keep an eye out for too much movement or no movement that would indicate your tracker is no longer a viable reflection of Dick’s location”

The surrounding members nodded eagerly as safety, rest, and proactiveness were promised by the building mission plans. Jason grumbled but stayed silent, annoyed by the fact that Bruce was always given priority of consent, even now when he was the least important person in their mission. Bruce had betrayed his own mission by sentencing so many frozen talons to death and utilizing his own code and efficiency to justify his blatant hypocrisy. Jason knew the man would argue that they weren't real or living-barely human-so his decision to remove them from existence wasn't equitable to killing a human being. It had driven Dick to the breaking point and away from them. The betrayal to Dick alone was crossing the line in an unforgivable way, but the fact that Bruce had never felt obligated to confront this issue with his remaining children, keeping his ridiculous facade of authority sturdy and standing, despite Jason’s and Tim’s attempts to force him to cooperate did not bode well for when they were all offered the opportunity to confront these issues again. They had very little to hold over Bruce’s head and emotional manipulation was the least weaponized tool for efficiency. The man thrived off of emotional trauma and stunted mental growth on an intimate level. Jason forced himself to take a deep breath, maybe 2 weeks of rest and planning would do them all some good. Jason and the brat and the replacement would work on tracking Dickhead’s location and Bruce would be forced to go before the League for his out-of-pocket behavior, and also ask for their help to ensure every base and civilian was safe and secured from the Light’s plans moving forward. 

Who am I kidding? Jason snarked to himself darkly. The old man is gonna fuck us all over somehow.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

-1 year and 6 months ago-

Dick threw back his head and gulped another quick swallow of the Jameson bottle he’d swiped from the kitchen while Wintergreen was preoccupied. He’d realized his inability to get contently drunk when he finished the 3rd bottle with little more than a hiccup. He vaguely recalled the rage he’d fallen into, smashing the bottle with as strong a throw as he could muster. The glass shards were so small they could barely be called splinters. They were still strewn about the floor he sat on at the moment. After his 2nd bottle and before his grand attempt at a third, he’d plundered the medical wing and stolen every single quantity of cryofreeze matter he could find, he’d injected his arm, he’d gulped some down-like shots, and then finally he’d licked up the remaining amount in powder form, throwing it on the back of his tongue.

After that, his memory was a bit hazy but when the shudders and near seizure-like trembles had subsided, and he found the strength to walk again, he found himself in the kitchen? Most likely, because after that he wound up on the floor in his bedroom, hosting his 3rd attempt at a large Jameson Whisky bottle. 

“Wintergreen is gonna be soooo pissed” Dick tried to say out loud, the words and movement of his tongue felt heavy and slow. The amber liquid burned and stung every inch of the way down his throat, but the heated numbness that quelled the distorted voices and whispers in the back of his head was worth it. He was pleasantly warm and his fingers tingled in a sort of funny way. Dick was tapping his fingers together to elicit a greater buzz-life feeling from the skin-on-skin contact. His bedroom door was open but the hallway was dark and quiet. It made sense, as Dick’s room was the only one near Slade’s, and no one, not even Dick’s new ‘teammates’ would ever have a reason to go venturing into Deathstroke the Terminator’s bedroom.

The space around him was quiet, moreso than deadly quiet. It seemed so unearthly void of sound that a strange humming sound had started to fill up the room. But Dick still had half a mind to realize that might be because of his inebriated state of mind too. Dick licked his lips, cringing at the texture of his dry, peeling skin. He knew he had chapstick somewhere in his room but he settled for another large swig. He forced it down, cringing at the burn again and waiting for the feeling to subside and new warmth to take its place in his belly.

“I hope none of my men led you to steal not 1, but 3 entire bottles of hard liquor from the kitchen”

Dick’s eyes flew open and realized with a dizzying jolt that he’d closed his eyes and almost drifted off in an upright sitting position.

Dick squinted up at Slade and tried to remember what the man had said, “What?” he settled for. Slade crossed his arms and stared down at Dick in a way that normally would've sent a rush of anxiety into the center of his being. Now though, coupled with the heady intoxication of liquor and purposefully weakened senses, all he could do was stare back and hope he wasn't blinking too rapidly. 

“Apprentice,” Slade said, his tone on the verge of irritability.

Dick scowled and waved the half-empty bottle at the towering man, “Fuck off. Leave me alone for once”

Slade’s lips curled and prowled forward with a predatory air that set Dick’s half-working senses on alert. As Slade stepped closer, Dick realized the man was dressed down considerably. He wore a white compression shirt that had his biceps begging for air, and wore pressed blue jeans with a fitted belt. It was a rare sight to see the man’s face bare, but it was an even rarer sight for the man’s biceps and forearms to be so as well, often only seen by Dick or Wintergreen in their line of work. At least, that was what Dick told himself to justify the way his gaze dragged down the man's thick arms, trailing the way White hair that grew sparser closer to his wrist. Slade stopped just before Dick’s form where he was propped up against the base of his bed, “This isn't a very efficient way of spending your downtime” Slade commented lightly, “I grant you free time to read and practice non-essential skills not…” Slade’s eyes dragged over the shards of glass that littered the floor, “To learn poor indulgence habits”

Dick scowled and shook the bottle again, splashing some out and onto his wrist and the floor, “It’s my downtime. Leave me alone so I can do what I want”

Slade’s eye narrowed in on Dick and he smoothly crouched down, peering closer at the boy. Dick glared and was seconds away from spitting another rude response when Slade’s hand shot out and grasped his face, smashing his cheeks together. Slade rotated his head left and right, maintaining eye contact the entire time, “You’re not only dunk-” Slade stopped for a second, “I was curious as to how much you’d consumed to get to this state” his gaze hardened along with his grip, “What did you do, pretty bird?” the man asked in a dangerously low voice.

Dick swallowed and looked away, “None of your business” he muttered. Slade shook him roughly like a dog, “What was that?”

“None of your business” he snapped louder. Slade huffed a dry breath and dropped Dick’s jaw before reaching for Dick’s free hand and snapping his thumb like a pencil. Dick yelped in surprise which turned into a gasp as the pain set in more profoundly. He dropped his whiskey and reached for his hand, cradling it close before hissing when he drunkenly applied too much pressure. 

“Did my little bird take too much blue juice?” Slade asked. Dick inhaled heavily through his nose and sent Slade a dark look, “So what if I did? It’s my body-shouldn't I know my limits?”

Slade rolled his eye and reached for Dick’s wrist. The younger man tensed and moved to pull away, only halting at the look Slade gave him in response. Slade successfully grasped Dick’s injured wrist and watched his thumb for lack of movement and healing. He pinched the nailbed and pulled the thumb slightly, smirking when Dick stifled his gasp and tilted his head back to hold in his hiss of pain, “You should” Slade said eventually, "But” he said slowly, “You seem to have taken it a step further and limited yourself even more gruesomely than necessity calls for”

Slade shifted from his crouched position to that of a kneeling one and reached for Dick’s face again. His fingers trailed the skin in a soft caress upward until his fingers were carding through Dick’s hair, “What would happen if one of my men stumbled upon you in such a state? Hmm? Would they teach you a lesson and assert their dominance over their Colonel’s student? Would they report you to me and demand a humiliating lesson be issued?" Slade trailed the tips of his fingers downward until they rested on the curve of Dick’s lower lip, “Or would they take one look at this dark, helpless little bird and be unable to resist what nature demands of so many sinful lowlifes?”

Dick was certain he’d stopped breathing the moment Slade's fingers gentled the curve of his lip. Suddenly, 3 bottles worth of hard alcohol seemed nothing compared to the raging heat burning through him at that moment. Slade’s eye darkened with a hungry possessiveness that he usually only offered in response to certain challenges or paydays, “It’s disappointing to see how separation from your pathetic family only seems to weaken you. It’s almost reflective of crack addicts and their withdrawal from their killing drug, making them even weaker” Slade spoke in such a deceptively pitying voice that Dick was stunned for a moment. Offended, he snarled and slapped Slade’s hand away but the man was quick as a viper and he reached out, shoving his palm into the center of Dick’s throat with a force that caused him to choke and splutter.

The compounding heat in Dick’s stomach spread to his head and seemed to boil over-resulting in prickling sensations, a headache, and dizzying thought patterns. Dick’s lips pulled back as he took a swing at Slade. The man’s eye widened but his lip curled pleasurably. He leaned back, allowing Dick more movement. Dick stumbled to his feet and almost tripped over his forgotten whiskey, “You asshole” Dick spat, “You already know why I’m here and it’s not to impress you. Let me do what I want in the 2 hours a day I’m not your jumping monkey. You know what” Dick was on a roll. His words were flowing smoothly, he had a fiery motivation backing his intent and he hadn't felt so outrageously driven in months, “I’m leaving! You’re always going on and on about how I need to grow up and learn how to make decisions that aren’t copy-pasting Bruce’s words. Well fine! Here's a decision! I’m fucking leaving!”

Slade watched him like his outburst wasn't anything surprising. Dick shoved past him and grabbed a bag from the closet against the wall. He yanked it with an unnecessary fury and stumbled as the alcohol in his system decided to remind him of its presence. He threw it on the bed and started pilfering his drawers for clothing and shoes. Slade made his way over to the wall beside Dick and leaned back to watch Dick’s angry tirade play itself out, “Where will you go?” Skade asked curiously.

“None of your fucking business” Dick spat, still riled up and motivated by blue drugs and alcohol.

Slade nodded, “Alright, then can I ask why now? It’s been a few months and you’ve been relatively alright. Has the shock of it all finally worn off-”

“Shut up!” Dick raged. Slade’s brow fell just enough for darkness to permeate his iris and let Dick know he’d fucked up. Slade was pissed. Slade stalked forward and grabbed Dick by the collar. He kept walking, forcing Dick to grasp at Slade’s wrist and stumble back to avoid tripping over his own heels. Dick let out an “Ommmpf” as his back smashed into the wall beside his closet and Slade leaned in, “I've been patient, kid. More patient than most would be. I understand that immortality is something that most can never truly come to terms with until you’ve outlived all your loved ones. I understand that Wayne’s actions still hurt, and that you can't understand how your brothers would ever utilize your conditioning against you, but I. Won't. Stand. For. Disrespect” Slade hissed, each word slowly and over-enunciated everything until he was nose to nose with Dick.

Dick snarled and spat at Slade, infuriated over the way Slade was manhandling him around in an easy display of dominance, “You’re no better!” he hissed, “I might be fucked up because I can’t trust them, and you think my dependence is weak, but I can't trust you either! I’ve got no one, Slade! How else am I supposed to feel!”

Slade chuckled slightly, “I never said your dependence on them was weak simply because, pretty bird. It’s only pathetic because you’ve bound yourself, mind, body, and soul, to such weak individuals; such undeserving souls have your utter loyalty at the flick of their wrist”

Slade leaned in until he was trading breath with Dick, “It's infuriating to me that the undeserving can have that type of power”

Dick didn't understand and furrowed his brow, “Oh, but my dependence on you is sooo much better? And Bruce is powerful with or without me. He was Batman before-”

“I DON'T CARE ABOUT BATMAN” Slade roared, quieting Dick instantly, “I care about you kid. You made Batman into Batman and Robin. You turned the placeholder of sidekick into a legacy, and you gave those poor Gothamites hope. Wayne wields you like some cheap retractable bostaff and when he doesn't take care of his possessions, the possession gets blamed?”

Dick finally managed to inhale a shaky breath, tasting a hint of the mint gum Slade preferred. He wasn't sure how to respond. The force of Slade’s bellow had muted him, but the moment he could respond he felt at a loss for words. How do you reply back to such a statement?

He tried, “Well, you can't get disappointed in me for not making my own decisions and then when I do, you get more pissed because they're not the ones you’d make”

Slade’s eye glinted smugly, “Oh kid. Of course, I can” Dick’s heart stuttered at the growl, “But you are correct. That would be quite hypocritical of me to enforce willfulness onto you and then bracket in certain requirements. I digress though, my point is that I’m striving for not only your potential to be recognized by yourself, and the world, as something greater than a reckoning…I’m striving for the moment when your decisions aren't a direct reflection of Bruce Wayne. I know how you think kid, it's as twisted as my own thought process, so I know that if you’re determined to convince yourself of something to meet whatever goal or mission you set out to accomplish, you will. Even at the risk of your own mental clarity and acuity”

Slade leaned back, “So forgive me if I don't believe you, just yet”

Dick snarled from where he was still caged against the wall, “You’re so full of shit” he spat, “It’s so easy to see why Adeline shot your eye out. I still can’t believe Joey’s related to you and Rose” Dick rolled his eyes, “I bet everything, that if I didn't stick around to smooth out every awkward interaction, you’d only ever heard from them every 5th Christmas!”

Slade watched Dick pant and regain his breath, “I know you need something to latch onto and lash out at, but are you sure you want to go this route kid?”

Dick didn't respond past his heavy panting. His chin was tucked down but his gaze was pointed up at Slade in a dark wrathful glare. Slade sighed, “Alright”

Before Dick could blink, Slade had shoved his fist into Dick’s gut and stolen his air. Dick’s eyes flew wide open as he struggled to exist in a world with no oxygen for 30 seconds. His entire torso pounded with thumping pain but he couldn't inhale. It wasn't that he had trouble breathing in enough air, it was that he had no lungs at all. There was no more air left in the world for Dick and his lungs were burning like a fire had sprung up inside and he-

He gasped in a strangled weak breath that sounded like like a whine and cry at once. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes over the feeling of drowning above water. Slade stepped back and allowed Dick to slide down the wall to his butt. The man tsked and moved to turn like he was done with Dick for the time being, but that only encouraged the heat inside Dick to fuel and spread. He wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol, his self-imposed drugs, Slade's touches, or something else, but he was a fiery mass and didn't want to self-extinguish. He wanted the fire to spread until there was nothing left to feel. His anger reignited and he yelled a strangled yell, lunging for Slade’s legs. He snapped them together and his weight forced them over into a tumbled pile. Slade maneuvered onto his side and grabbed Dick easily, pulling his alcohol-addled fingers from his calves and up his body. Slade readjusted his grip and shoved Dick onto the floor to straddle him. Dick caught on mid-movement and kicked at Slade, nailing him in the jaw. Dick wiggled away and crawled on his hands and knees until he was close enough to leverage the bedframe to stand. 

Normally, Dick would be very intuned to the bodies around him in a fight, especially one that was as familiar as Slade's. But at the moment, Dick had 2 and 1/a bottles of Jameson in his bloodstream and liver, and he was under the influence of who knows how many milligrams of diluted cryofreeze substances. He barely had a second to duck as Slade’s fists swung over the top of his head, gracing his hair. Dick jumped over the bed and put more distance between them. He turned to find Slade stalking towards him at a steady pace. The man’s eye was filled with a dangerous glint and the need to make Dick submit to him. Dick barred his teeth in response. All his weapons were in the training room or the closest beside Slade. He had nothing within reach at the moment and Dick cursed himself for lowering his guard too severely in Slade’s compound. He reached for the bedside table lamp beside him and yanked it from the wall. He chucked it at Slade’s head and in the few seconds it took for Slade to avoid the lamp, Dick had jumped on the bed and used the springs to flip over the man’s head and land in an unsteady crouch behind him.

Slade turned and smirked, “Figures that your acrobatics would be the least affected by all that shit liquor”

Dick smirked, “Don't let Wintergreen hear you say that”

Dick faked a jab and dropped down, swinging out a long leg and sweeping Slade’s feet out from under him. The man turned a stumble into a graceful somersault that made Dick huff in irritation. He rolled to the side and stood fluidly, pulling out a pocket knife and flipping it so the blade was pointed down his wrist and towards his elbow. Dick knew the fight was becoming unfair but Slade always told him, even in the field as Robin, that fighting unfairly was the best thing a growing fighter could learn from. Slade descended on him in a flurry of swipes, punctuated by jabs and punches. All Dick could do was try to keep his doubling vision straight and avoid as best he could. He hissed when Slade cut his shoulder, tearing his t-shirt. Then another when Slade caught the inside of his arm where 4 needle marks were still trying to fade. Dick was littered with small shallow cuts by the time Slade caught him across the cheek, nicking his ear in a broad swipe. Dick had enough and charged Slade, despite his lack of weapon, and aimed for the groin- a move that made Slade realize how ready the boy was to truly get down and dirty. Slade smirked and intercepted him, easily. He threw him into the wall, rattling cabinets and the closet, and stabbed down, nailing Dick to the wall through his shoulder. Dick gasped a silent scream as the blade became acquainted with his tender flesh.

The blade was too short to verifiably pin Dick to the wall, so his minimal struggling dislodged it quickly from the wall, but Dick was forced to pull it out of his shoulder himself. Slade watched the movement with a predatory gaze, his pupil blown wide. Dick switched the blade to his other hand and shoved off the wall. He flipped overhead and tried to stab down into Slade mid-turn. The move was ill-thought-out and messy in his addled state of mind. Slade avoided the blade and caught his arm and hip before he could land, Dick tried to counter by sweeping his back leg up and at Slade in a ballerina-like arch. Slade grunted as he swung Dick down and threw him into the small desk against the furthest wall. Dick gasped in pain as the desk crumbled beneath his body weight and shattered into splinters and planks.

For a moment all he could do was lay there and absorb the swelling pains and skyrocketing agony. His back burned and he couldn't even pinpoint the numerous splinters all over. His shoulder was on fire and Dick wasn't sure if he was hot or numb. He gulped in as much air as he could and tried to push himself to his feet, made even more difficult by the bleeding hole in his shoulder. Dick managed to push himself up but the blood trailing down his arms from the numerous cuts was aided by his gaping shoulder to the point where the blood made his slip. Dick fell backward with a pained cry as his shoulder slammed into something hard and uneven. He tried again but Slade stopped him, turning him over with a sure deft fingers until he was flat on his back. He didn't say anything as he proceeded to pummel Dick into next week. He attacked his face with sharp short jabs and destroyed his nose and chin with powerful blows. He forced Dick to cry out with attacks to his sternum, torso, and sides, until Dick gave up and curled inward. He had one hand clasped over his gushing shoulder and the other over his head to protect himself from the reigning blows.

A blow landed on his temple and Dick’s hearing went out, abandoning him just before his vision doubled again. He felt the world shift and tilt and realized that Slade had dragged in from the pile of wood by his collar. Slade tossed Dick to the floor beside his bed and the sudden movement, accompanied by the overwhelming pain and aches in his body, forced his stomach to flip dangerously. Before he could control it he was lurching forward and heaving his stomach. Dick blinked past the tears and sharp acid in his throat to spot bright blue bile splattering the floor and the foot of the bed. He heaved again, watching as a steady red river from somewhere on his face began to join the brown and blue pile of throw-up. There was too much to take stock of. He wasn't sure what felt more prominent, the shakes in his arms as he fault to hold himself up in a pathetic semi-plank position, the resonating agony thumping throughout his body, or the burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He was distantly aware of strong, firm hands guiding him upward until he was hunched over on his knees; in a safer position to throw up his guts. Eventually, Dick’s gagging subsided but his drunkness and the fight were too much, easily bringing tears to the corners of his eyes. A sob escaped his lips as his body screamed in pain and throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He tried to cut himself off but it felt like the sobbing breath and wet gasps were more powerful than the muscles behind his jaw and lips.

“Shhhhh” Slade cooed, kneeling beside Dick. He shifted him, gently guiding him until they were a few feet away from the mess, “You're alright kid”

Strong arms wrapped around Dick from behind before shifting and gathering him into a sideways position. Dick wasn't able to contain his next strangled sobbing breath as the shirt beneath his face absorbed the spit and tears from his face, “You can trust me kid” Dick shook his head weakly, but Slade spoke over him, “You can trust me to never lie to you. You can trust me to always expect the best from you; to push you to your true potential. I never left you kid” A calloused hand began arding through his sweaty locks, brushing them back away from his face, “I made sure that I was the one the Court would go to when they made their move. I was the one that stole you away when your training began to smother your fire. I was there to follow you every step of the way. I’ll never leave you kid; it’s a virtue that very few can genuinely assure and even fewer can live up to. But us” Slade’s grip tightened from where his head was cradled and another large arm was tucking his back to a heated chest, “We’re on another level kid. We will see loved ones come and go. You’ll see your little bird grow old and die, and you’ll still be flipping around the world; free as a bird. What I can offer you, will offer you, is something no one else can….Not really” Dick sobbed harder, now clutching at the arms around him with a fervor he couldn't quite understand.

“I know you’ve been telling yourself that you’ll only stick around until you learn to control yourself; until it’s safe enough to see your brothers again…be honest with yourself Dick. Remember last month? How unrecognizable was that?” Slade’s voice was filled with utter awe, “The way you took apart those men, the way no one could pin you down….except me”

“You’re another being, pretty bird. You were always special, but when that electrum built up and overpowered your nervous system-you were made quite untouchable” Slade chuckled, “Unless I wanted to bomb my own base and men, that is”

The carding fingers picked up and Dick trembled as his heart rate started to crash and the sweat and blood coating his skin started to cool to an uncomfortable tackiness. He remembered everything Slade recounted. He remembered the horrifying way his arms had been coated in blood and the way his nose had dripped with it. None of it was his own but the warmth of it was something he could never forget. Slade had pinned him down and ordered his men to hose them both down before Dick was able to move anywhere without dragging half a pint of blood with him. The shower floor looked like someone was washing paintbrushes after an exterior paint job.

Dick came back to himself and realized that Slade was still speaking, “....Okay after all. You’ll realize this eventually. I’m yours and you mine in a way that no one else can ever relate to”

Dick stared ahead numbly. Slade’s beating heartbeat beneath his ears was a satisfying echoing thump that he clung to. Slade spoke again but seemed to realize how much was going over Dick’s head. He sighed, “Come on little bird, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed” Slade pulled them both to their feet, shouldering most of Dick’s weight. Slade peered down his nose at Dick’s misty, vacant expression, “Apoloogize, kid”

It was instantaneous, the way the man demanded something of him and the way Dick provided as best he could, “I’m sorry”

Slade’s smug grin could not have been any darker or more pleased. He pulled Dick’s arm over his shoulder, taking care to let the injured shoulder dangle limply. He guided Dick forward and out of the room and into the hallway. Dick knew the instant they left his room where they were headed. Slade nudged open his own door and deposited Dick in the bathroom, plopping him on the countertop like a sleepy child. Dick allowed himself to lean backward until the mirrors and wall were supporting his weight; he watched Slade make his way back to the door before he shut and locked it from the inside. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick knocked on the door to the large monitoring room that Slade had taken over as his temporary office. They hadn’t returned back to America, instead flying back to an old base Slade had used in Germany, many times in the past. The large warehouse had been used for clothing design and top-model storage of different kinds so the place was relatively well-kept and even offered below-ground storage. Slade had more of his men present at the base to plan various other contracts that had been taken out in his name. Slade’s men, depending on experience,  and a few other factors, usually retained about 35-55% of their contract. Slade, acting as their trainer, middleman, and agent retained the remaining amount for each successful contract. Anyone who had a problem with it quickly learned not to voice their displeasure unless they wanted a broken neck and to be hung before the remaining men as an example. If you were lucky enough to be integrated into Deathstroke’s line of work, you were most likely smart enough not to be picky about your wage cuts.

Dick had only seen it a few times but was thankful that Slade had never forced him to carry out such a picky punishment. He pushed his way inside before Slade had the chance to permit his entry. The man turned in his seat sharply, prepared to deliver a crushing verbal and physical blow to whoever had the audacity to act before being given permission by Deathstroke the Terminator. He spotted Dick and his shoulders softened instantly, “Apprentice” he greeted.

Dick nodded and set his homework on Slade’s desk wordlessly. Slade peered at it and flipped over one paper before reclining back in his seat. He folded his hands in his lap, “Report it to me” he requested. 

Dick rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of Slade’s desk, feeling like a little kid, “The only ones I’m certain about are Bruce and Jason. Bruce won’t let the mission proceed without him and Jason will go no matter what, whether or not he has to do it on his own. Everyone else has proven a level of respect for authority that could be weaponized against them; if the League forced them to obey and stay behind”

Slade nodded, “What about Wayne’s brat? Arrow’s nephew had a pretty sharp rebellious streak as well if I remember correctly”

Dick nodded, glaring tiredly at Slade’s name for Damian, “Damian will fight tooth and nail to follow Bruce but there are more than enough people that can actually keep him from leaving the manor. He also can’t fly anything so his only option is to be a stowaway as a last resort. Tim is also very dedicated but Bruce has got him trained well. If he tells Tim that he’d be more help from Gotham or the sidelines, Tim would sit it out”

Slade had started to review the documents and reports Dick put together on his family and teammates during his verbal explanation, “Roy’s just as capable as Jason to go off on his own, but I think having Lian has tempered him. He’s the most normal and" Dick struggled for the right word, “Adulting the best out of all of them”

Slade smirked slightly as Dick referred to them and not us, “Who do you think will accompany the Bat from the League?”

Dick bit his lip as he studied the folder in Slade’s hands, “I’m not sure” he admitted, “A lot may have changed since I’ve been gone. If the power dynamics were the same as a few years ago then I’d say Wonder Woman would stay back and man everything, Batman would attend every mission, and Superman would act as an in-between support”

Slade nodded, “I agree. Now tell me who you think will be sent after the remaining Owls as protection”

Dick frowned at the reminder of how his friends and family were most likely going to go out of their way to protect such abhorrent criminals just to keep tabs on him and Slade. He had to admit that he had forced them to it after assassinating De Longe though. He didn't like how comfortable he was becoming, reporting back to Slade on the hero community's most likely actions, probably behaviors, and common flaws. Slade had increased this kind of training over time, but early on it was simple theories on past contracts Slade had undertaken. Dick was expected to review and report back in an effort to increase his observational skills in a way that wasn't reliant on his literal sense in the field. Over time, Slade had posed more real-life scenario-based questions to him until one day Dick found himself evaluating his friends and family. Slade justified it by reminding Dick how many emergency scenarios the Dark Knight had to take down people like Superman. In instances like that, these character and skill review files were crucial. Dick knew it, Slade knew, it was obvious but knowing it never helped settle Dick's stomach when he offered another explanation on how to subdue Jason or Oliver Queen.

“Ryland is still in Gotham and in the public eye so anyone back in Gotham or Central City can watch her closely. Roan Damarask and Joseph Gilf are both still in South Africa so if the team doesn't break down and fall apart, then maybe Artemis or Roy will be sent to keep tabs on both, with someone enhanced; maybe Zantanna or Megan. Yassen Gretchovin is the only one still in Russia and they’re highly anti-Western culture still so sending someone easily recognized as an American hero would make them stand out as a sore thumb, plus his location hasn't been confirmed yet. They might send Kaldur” Slade nodded and set down the file, giving Dick his full attention. Dick knew that even when multitasking, he always had Slade’s full attention.

“Cobb-” Dick swallowed, “Cobb is still missing so they’re unable to protect and monitor him unless they catch word from the Light and you’re their only in so far”

Slide nodded, “You don't think they'd take him into custody? There are quite a few people who know the details of what your grandfather subjected you to”

Dick nodded and forced himself not to look away, “I think Bruce would want to take him down the moment he’s found, but he’d decide that ‘protecting’ him and monitoring him would not only save him from me but also make him into better bait”

“If they don't manage to convince you to rejoin them at some point in their little escapade” Slade finished with an amused tone. Dick nodded. It was blatantly obvious that Bruce and the others thought they could endear themselves to him and earn his trust back by compromising and working with him, Bruce's flip from demanding that Dick return- to his strange assistance that they be alerted to every mission they attend- was cloyingly obvious. It was a warped attempt to meet in the middle; but it only proved to upset Dick further. 

“How are you feeling?" Dick knew Slade was referring to his almost comatose state under the effects of Jason shooting him up and then trekking through a cave of hallucinogenic magic crystal flowers, “Aside from a persisting headache, I’m fine” Dick offered.

Slade watched him for a moment longer before nodding, “Good. I hope you've had enough sense to digress from your usual morning routines then?”

Dick nodded sullenly, “Nothing will happen so soon. I’ll….abstain” he settled for, “For a few days”

Slade pushed Dick’s folder aside and stood, crowding him against the desk even further. Dick could feel the barest hints of the monitors against his shoulder blades and spine. Slade’s unmasked face held an expression that seemed to antagonize a certain level of cautiousness in Dick. He looked back in apprehension, disliking the obvious weight of new information on Slade's tongue. The man was deciding what or how to reveal something to him and his hesitancy was skyrocketing Dick's for the sheer fact alone that Slade never doubted his actions unless he wanted to ensure a certain type of outcome or reaction, “What is it?”

 

Chapter 13

Notes:

Hey there! A little bit of a shorter chapter but it's for some emotional development (Just not in the right direction lol)

 

 

 

Batman glowered at the surrounding Justice League members with a fury of as many suns as he could muster. He despised being held accountable by people who could barely fathom authentic obligations that justice demanded, beyond the barebones legal system, of a court case. When he was forming the Justice League with Clark and Diana he knew that he would have to lower his standards and strictness, with respect to the backgrounds and experience that any new members might be coming to them with, in exchange for their loyalty and unique powers. Bruce often regretted his moments of weakness and open-mindedness. He, Superman, and Wonder Woman were currently surrounded by the most prominent and leading Justice League members: The Flash, Green Lantern, Black Canary, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter, Hawkman, Hawkgirl, Red Tornado, Doctor Light, Atom, Aquaman, and Captian Marvel.

They’d been at it collectively for the past 9 hours, and even Bruce was starting to feel a headache, and the need for some sort of rest or reprieve. The first 4 hours were spent yelling at each other and Batman for hiding the fact that the Court of Owls was not a threat singular to Gotham and that they had kidnapped, resurrected, and brainwashed Nightwing. Many admonished Batman for not updating the Justice League about this crucial fact when many assumed that Nightwing had been discontinued due to a death in his personal life. Batman hadn't corrected them but was fortunate that Superman was there to quel many of the allegations that Batman was not as committed as a founding member was obligated to be. Most of the League had also been gravely upset by the revelation that Nightwing was now an uncategorized meta in the hands of Deathstroke the Terminator. Superman had taken this to segue into the fact that Cobb was most likely working with Luthor, and therefore the Light, to develop some sort of biomedical implant chip to control or subdue minds and behavior. At best, the chips would be administered to leading world figures and nation heads, at worst, the Light’s plan included a way to manufacture chips for nearly every human on earth.

The news of the Kryptonian DNA, and plans to enslave and control a large majority of the world, was nearly the tipping point for the League, already furious with Batman and starting to turn on Superman for not coming to them first. Black Canary, Green Arrow, and the Flash had tried to play peacemaker between many members, but Batman had had enough, revealing his true intentions for calling an official league meeting, “Nightwing’s potential and physical status are currently unknown beyond the fact that his capabilities have expanded past what we have recorded and documented for him. Deathstroke the Terminator kidnapped him from Gotham, before he was mentally and physically recuperated, and has been coercing him to commit violent acts of retribution against the remaining Court of Owl members around the world. I have assured Deathstroke’s contemporary partnership to relay the Light’s activities and plans as they develop, but I wish to initiate a search and rescue mission for Nightwing before he can be used by Deathstroke or the Light to develop further nefarious plans”

Mount Justice exploded into an uproar nearly too loud to be tolerated by human standards. 

“This is unacceptable, Batman!” Atom raised his voice.

“We are not your personal sidekicks. You cannot send us all on missions for your wayward son” Green Lantern boomed angrily. Superman stood up, stealing everyone’s attention from the silent Dark Knight, “While I am in agreement that Batman acted out of standard for a situation of this magnitude, our priority is defense and offense from the Light” he said sternly. This earned him a few slow nods but no one spoke, “While we aren’t 100% clear on the Light’s next steps, or their endgame, we can speculate and our best guess is still far too serious to be left unchecked” Superman continued, “Nightwing has been put through tragedy after tragedy for the past couples of years so his actions and behavior, while not inexcusable, are a separate matter themselves-”

“He’s been killing, Superman” Red Tornado spoke calmly. The hall of heroes murmured and nodded, “We cannot excuse murder, no matter the duress of the individual in question. If that were the case, the Joker would not be sent to Gotham’s worst institution time and time again” he tuned his mechanical head to Batman who sat like a simmering, wrathful shadow.

Wonder Woman nodded, “That is true” she lamented, “And we are not saying that there will be no compromises or consequences, but we are laying the groundwork for what we think our next steps should be. Nightwing is not in control of his full faculties and is working under the duress we can only assume would come from constant contact with Deathstroke for the last 2 years”

Green Arrow spoke, “How is this all involved exactly? Are you trying to imply that Nightwing's mental condition will play a role in the Light’s plans to come?”

Batman shook his head, “Not exactly, but he will be integral to them. The Court of Owls experimented on him and while myself and Redrobin are confirming exactly what was done and what we’ve taken from Queen Bee’s base, it’s clear that they’ve enhanced my son…to a degree”

“Like Redhood?,” Captain Marvel confirmed questionably. 

Batman tried to restrain his frown, “No….more severely. His new status and potential may be the biological groundwork for a part in the Light’s plans”

Canary leaned forward, “You think they want Nightwing’s biological DNA and genes in order to replicate whatever they did to him, and then what? Use these chips on those enhanced individuals?”

The hall fell silent.

“Good god,” Atom said, leaning back, “I-I need to have a look at whatever you have on him. If whatever they did to his genetic makeup is this powerful, this would be groundbreaking. We were lucky enough that the research that created Deathstroke went down with the base he decimated in the 80’s”

Flash caught his eye, “I’m already looking at it and Green Arrow has his own labs working on it as well. There’s only so much we can pull from their loads of research when they’ve had what?” he looked to Batman “20 years on us?”

Batman clenched his jaw, “Try nearly 100”

The Flash and Arrow stopped and stared, “What? Br-Batman you never mentioned that”

Green Lantern scoffed, “Like usual”

“The Court of Owls has been running their soldiers and assassins off a serum called electrum, which is a minor diluted version of what was ensured in Nightwing’s biology. It has sustained some members of the Court for many years past their prime. Nightwing can be considered levels above this”

Superman added, “Which is why we need all hands on deck. Even if you cannot help abroad, helping nationally and covering an extra city or checking in more often will help us all”

“What exactly is the plan you’re proposing?” Hawkman asked with narrowed eyes. Batman dropped his shoulders and faced the heroes across the large table, “We’ll be taking a team to track down and temporarily work with Deathstroke on missions ordered to him by the Light as Vandal Savage’s current contractor. We will work to acquire whatever they are working on and either take it back to base or destroy every and all traces. After, we will reclaim Nightwing; if possible; we will also restrain Deathstroke and any other possible members of the Light to restrict any possible research survival or plan resurgence. A quarter of the team will be split to monitor the still surviving members of the Court in case Deathstroke goes back on his word and tries sending Nightwing after them”

“How stupid do you think we are?” Hawkgirl asked haughtily, “This is a mission you want us on to make sure Nightwing doesn't dig himself a deeper hole. You can't justify using the entire Justice League and its resources to rescue one foolish boy”

Wonder Woman saw the angle Batman was clenching his armchair and was suddenly egregiously grateful that the fates did not make the Dark Knight an enhanced individual.

Canary leaned forward, “No matter your options regarding Batman and his family, we need to acknowledge that separating Nightwing from Deathstroke and the Light will only benefit us and protect innocents”

“Then why have we agreed to parade around with Deathstroke in a false partnership?” Red Tornado asked in a way that was entirely serious to him, but would sound entirely sarcastic and petty out of any other mouth.

“Because by continuing down the pathway we’ve gotten Wilson to agree to, will allow us to infiltrate the Light’s plans and stop them as or before they manage anything worse" Batman enunciated slowly and around his gritted jaw.

Aquaman nodded, “I agree. This is why the children created a plan behind our backs, yes? Proactive not reactive”

Batman nodded firmly, “I did not approve of their plans to act behind official League knowledge, but wanted them safe more than anything, so I accompanied them until it was clear that we had some sort of alliance with Deathstroke and needed to turn back to relay this info to the rest of you”

Superman’s lips thinned but he didn't outright disagree. Martian Manhunter shook his head, “I understand your need to serve your duty and protect your son Batman, but I think we should strategize differently. If Nightwing is crucial to the Light’s plans then we should not leave Nightwing in their hands any longer than necessary. Deathstroke is not trustworthy by any means so we cannot rely on him to transmit reliable information to you behind the Light’s back”

Half the room nodded instantly, “This is a good point” Atom said.

Batman forced what was supposed to be a calming breath in and out of his chest, “While I would want nothing more than to remove Nightwing from Wilson’s hands, now… we…we can’t. By extending the length of time that Nightwing is with Wilson, we extend the amount of time we can track Wilson and his movements on behalf of the Light”

“You have a way of tracking them?” Dr. Light asked.

Superman nodded, “We’ve placed a tracker on Nightwing and for the past week or so, his movements have been verified and true. The sooner we move and continue with this soft agreement we’ve made with Wilson, the longer we can prevent them from finding this tracker”

Captain Marvel crossed his hands, “I’m sorry, I don't think this is a good idea..who would even go? Any past activity involving the Terminator has an unusually high death or fail rate. This is why we forbid the children from any missions he was clearly going to be involved with”

“Me,” Various voices said in an overlapping manner. Batman looked to Aquaman, Green Arrow, Black Canary, and the Flash who’d spoken quickly. He nodded, knowing Dick would be touched by all the adults, who’d been there to witness the first sidekick, stick up for him when it was protocol to turn against him.

Captain Marvel looked a little irritated, “Alright” he acquiesced, “But we need better boundaries and provisions set in place. We all know that once we get too deep into this, lines will blur”

“What are you implying?” Wonderwoman asked sternly. Captain Marvel kept his sights on Batman, “We still need to vote on this, and I won’t be voting for this unless we go into this mission knowing who is who. Place Nightwing on the international vigilantes most wanted, like you suggested, before the kids ran off behind our backs again”

Superman narrowed his eyes at the audacity motivating the red-capped hero's tone. He watched the man of steel steadily, “This is not a large request” Martian Manhunter spoke softly, “Nightwing is not unloved, but he has crossed the line we all swore never to cross. If we uncover a different truth than has been laid before us then we can always take him off the list. This also provides us with better monitoring as other international heroes will be able to inform us if they spot Nightwing or Wilson together”

Superman knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't resist the urge to glance at Batman. The push to criminalize his son’s name was what drove him and half the original Young Justice team off in the first place. “He’s right, Batman” Wonderwoman spoke softly, “We can do this now so that we can proceed as a unified front, but remove his name later” It went left unsaid that a unanimous vote was required to change something of that magnitude and Bruce knew that trauma and coercion or not, Dick had done enough to earn placement on that watchlist. If he agreed to this, he was forever ensuring Dick's hero status and name would be marred with the ink or criminality. On paper, he'd be no better than Sportsmaster, Wilson, or Bane.

“What will it be, Batman? You’ve always been a stickler for duty or responsibility. Your oldest has crossed one of the most important lines” Hawkgirl said, almost snidely. The room looked from the tan woman to the Dark Knight who narrowed his gaze on her. His lenses were as thin as needles, "Let me remind you once" he said slowly, "Before you initiate a vote that is more permanent than you obviously would care to admit" he stood up and placed his palms on the table. Despite an entire circular table standing between him and Hawkgirl, she tensed and seemed to lean back in her seat, "The original Robin-the first sidekick- was murdered and kidnapped, forcibly returned to life and then tortured as a minor and into adulthood for a handful of years. If this was brought before the criminal court of the civilian legal system, he would be deemed unfit to stand trial because of the obvious strenuous nature that has been laid on him since he was 17 years old; a minor. He is formidable and now has Deathstroke the Terminator whispering in his ear. Do not make an enemy out of my son" he said lowly.

Hawkman crossed his arms and seemed to take a minute to swallow, "Do not threaten us, Batman. You know what is right and what is wrong. Besides he is only a young man, he is most likely figuring out his abilities as we speak. He is only as much of a threat as we make him out to be"

Batman looked at the man beside her with a withering glower, "I have a detailed step-by-step plan on how to take down each and every one of you with as little time and effort as possible" The Dark Knight clenched his fists where he was leaned into the table and ignored the way everyone except Superman and Wonder Women violently tensed, "Robin" he growled, "Assisted in the formation of half of these plans. I taught each and every one of my sons as if each day would be their last. The moment you underestimate Nightwing, will be yours"

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick looked down at the screen in his hands. He wasn't sure how many times he’d re-read the updated caption:

 

Nightwing

 

Age: 24

Distinctive appearance: Dark hair, blue eyes, Eastern European

Associated company: Deathstroke the Terminator

Last seen: Egypt

Wanted: Destruction of property, homicide, thievery, kidnapping, transporting or unapproved weaponry and ammunition, conspiracy to commit…

Confirmed Locations: North America, East Asia, Western Europe...

...

The list went on and on, and Dick read on and on. He couldn't seem to stop, as if on his 16th or 23rd read, the words would say something different. Slade shifted and Dick was suddenly aware of his presence again. He meant to say something, anything, but all that spouted from his lips was a wet, ironic sob. He smiled, “Can’t say I was expecting that” he said as if the room itself was listening along with Slade. Slade said nothing, but Dick couldn't stand the silence that suddenly buzzed with shame and noticed everything about the situation-everything he’d hoped to ignore about it, “I can't say I saw that coming!” he yelled louder, chucking the digital screen across the room with a furry that lodged it into the drywall.

Slade watched the screen crack and fall black, broken. He slowly turned back to watch Dick. His usually bright blue irises were hazy and dark. Most would assume they were signs of anger or tears to come, but Slade knew all the subtitles and small ticks that his apprentice followed through with to immerse himself in his delusions. 2 years ago, his eyes would have been a bright gold, nearly shining with an inhumanness that most would die without ever witnessing. His lips were parted and he seemed to be lost as to what emotion he should give way to; his anger, his disbelief, his feelings of betrayal, or worse, the shock and humility that after everything his family had proven to him on account of his lacking and illtrustworthiness…Dick still hadn't expected a move of this proportion.

Slade had seen the report this morning as there were very few additions to the international portion of the blacklist. It was made public to legitimize heroes in the eyes of all the governments who wanted more of a handhold over communities that acted without their authority, but it was only ever utilized by metas and the hero community as a warped to-do list. Slade still remembered the day he was added to the list himself, his full name and background made public for the world to better target him and his family. Fortunately, his ex-wife had already taken his children and sequestered them from him. He’d spent the next week tracking down every scientist, who had offered information about him and his successful lab trials under the U.S. government, before murdering them all and burning every last piece of digital and physical research. Slade had been in such a wicked fury that he hadn't even stopped to consider the consequences of destroying everything before he’d had a chance to learn more about himself and his new condition. 

Years later, and with an apprentice who was no more his double than his own reflection, Slade found that he didn't regret the past as much as he should.

Wayne would though.

Slade maintained his stoic facade and stern expression, but he knew that it was often pointless as his bird could read him better than most would think appropriate. The way the kid, not even 30 years old, would stiffen when he walked too loudly, or tense when he himself was preparing to lash out. Slade almost felt like a young man again in the way he needed to corral his impure runaway thoughts and actions because of how his lethal bird reacted to and from him. The way Dick would bare his neck to appease him without even realizing it, or the way he, even now, pushed at Slade’s buttons and boundaries, knowing that the man enjoyed the challenge of his will; especially when he appeared not to. The firey reactions that his bird inspired in himself and others was an addicting aroma that his physical body seemed to thrive off of. His instincts, so intuned to his master, that he was sure the kid was only aware of about a quarter of his behaviors and how they came off.

He knew that revealing the League’s decision so soon would only send his boy into a tailspin of fluid, violent proportions but Slade found himself ready and prepared for the storm to come. He was eager to see the new ways that Dick was learning to lash out and express his anger. Many men in his North American platoon already feared Dick’s presence, let alone his close association with Deathstroke. Dick could go on and on about how he’d accepted the break between himself and his family, but Slade knew that the past 2 years, and likely the next 30, would be one of emotional fluxes-guiding Dick to and away from his family ties and liabilities little by little. The day when Slade had no fear of Dick’s reaction to his family’s wellbeing or actions is the day Bruce Wayne will have finally lost. But today, was not one of those days. Slade watched as Dick’s cheeks pulled tight and his lips bared his teeth in a way that narrowed his eyes. His fingers were tensed and his shoulders were wracked with subtle shudders from the immense power every heaving breath held back. Dick was furious. He was furious that after every attempt he made to distance himself from his family, and every attempt he made to protect his brothers, covet Wayne’s ridiculous code as much as he could by protecting innocents…it was not enough. Whatever Dick had done in their last encounter, his responses to Slade, his reactions to his former team, Batman had gone back to recoup and heal; deciding to place his eldest on a permanently destructive list for the world to see. He wasn't blind to the hypocrisy in the kid's reaction. Dick was mostly angered and destroyed over the fact that his efforts to push his family away, despite their protests of love and support, had finally worked. The boy was in denial over the fact that Wayne had just proved the boy's fears correct: He wasn't loved unconditionally. 

The only way to leave the list is by being captured or dying. Dick knew this. Slade knew this. The League knew this.

It was a smack in the face to the young man who’d given more than his life to a community of do-gooders and self-sacrificers. Slade was aware of the small chance that this may not be entirely Wayne’s doing and moreso the inner politics of the Justice League and its fickle members, but Dick’s addled mind wanted to see nothing of reason. He wanted to hurt in a way that could not be comforted or made alright because that would truly make his perpetrators, Burce, the Court, and his brothers, genuinely responsible for the pain dealt out to him by their proxy. Slade was all too willing to feed this need in his feral boy. He let his arms drop and Dick’s eyes caught the movement, seemingly coming back to himself, “This may not be what it appears” Slade offered quietly, already giddy with the fury that Dick was bound to unleash on anyone that crossed his path over the next while.

Dick’s eyes narrowed, “What else could this be?” he hissed spitefully, “For all of Bruce’s lecturing about how even the Joker could be saved in some way and-and how we can’t condemn anyone” Dick slapped his chest, “I’m his son! I was Robin first! Robin is mine! But here he is; pulling this shit after that act he gave me not even a week ago!”

Slade saddled closer, boxing Dick in a way that made him squirm and quiet his raging fury; slightly. The self-control for Slade and only for Slade made his inner demons contort in pleasure. It made his soul want to howl with glee and display the boy before him to the Justice League. To show them what true loyalty and control could do to a soul so indebted with anger and grief. Slade would succeed someday. He would prostrate Dick before the hero community and say, “See? I’ve succeeded where you failed. This man is not only more powerful for it but his anger and fury at your lacking are the driving forces behind the ferocity that you condemn him for”

Slade’s skin bubbled with heat and pleasure in a way that was not beneficial for his goal at the moment. He shoved it aside and clenched his fist to ensure that his bird felt his true, unregulated attention. That was how he’d earn his Robin’s unwavering loyalty in the very end. By proving to Dick that he could do anything, just about kill anyone, destroy anywhere; and Slade would still be waiting for him-pleased and enamored with his charge for living his life and faculties to the fullest potential offered to him. Something that Bruce Wayne sought to smother in his children from the start. It was how Slade first garnered his little bird's attention. The boy always offered the same superficial playful attitude to those he encountered on patrol, but Slade's interest and attention were what drew the boy back in, in return. Like any natural animalistic hierarchy, the boy had been stunned, troubled, put off, and scared by Slade's true capabilities. The man had proven how easily he could crush Robin's neck in his fist like it was just another Tuesday. But when that same sanctimonious predator offered the meek, flighty little bird attention and approval, the boy was hooked, instantly desiring more of that gratification, emphasized only by the taboo relationship their interactions offered. 

Slade watched Dick, knowing the physical contact might not be welcome just yet, “You knew this already” Slade stated calmly.

“He had the audacity to put on that stupid show in front of my brothers and Kris, and the others!” Dick argued

“He was doing his part to find a middle ground that would afford them access to you and allow them access to the Light’s plans” Slade continued in an even tone.

“He acted like he still cared! Like he couldn't stop until I was home!” Dick persisted.

“But you don't want to go back to Gotham. You don't want to be with them” Slade countered with a slight cocking of his head.

"Of course I do!” Dick cried, "I know I can't, not really, but how could I not?!"

“Then why are you upset that Wayne is now drawing the line? I would think you’d be glad that you're not the only one trying to set boundaries and a clear distinction between you two. It would certainly make everything easier”

Dick faltered, his lips parted in preparation for another spat. Slade stepped closer, pleased when Dick didn't lean away, “Stop giving any of them the benefit of the doubt” Slade hissed, shocking Dick with his change of tone, “I allowed you to agree to this apprenticeship with the silly notion that you would be protecting your family by strengthening yourself and reigning in the newer skills you’d yet to control, but I will not allow my student…my heir, to be so simple-minded and clouded by false assumptions” Slade slapped a palm to the monitor directly beside Dick’s head, cracking it with a slight fissure, “They have done nothing to earn the loyalty and faith you still continue to place in their hands. They wish you back to exert control over your actions and that of the Light's…. nothing more” Slade spat.

Dick stared back at him with wide watery eyes, “You are only so foolishly hurt by this” Slade pointed back to the screen jammed in the far wall, “Because, despite my warnings, you have continued to place your faith and puppy dog loyalty in Wayne’s hands. It’s pathetic and I tire of this emotional whiplash, apprentice”

Slade leaned back, “I will allow you your foolish fantasies, but I will no longer step in to assist in the damage that Wayne continues to accomplish. If you keep laying under his feet, he will continue steeping on you kid” Slade was about to continue when a knock sounded. Everyone knew to wait for explicit permission before continuing, Dick as always, was the only surviving exception.

While Slade was still watching Dick, he called, “Enter”

Kris entered with a short nod. She was dressed in her usual base attire and wore a simple black fitted compression tank top with dark cargo pants and a waist strap for extra pouches across her chest, “Everything is packed, Sir”

Dick looked at Slade in question but the man was now choosing to ignore him, “Good. Prepare for take off this time tomorrow”

“What’s going on?” Dick asked the room. Kris glanced at him but hesitated to answer as Slade had obviously left him in the dark on purpose. Slade shuffled his and Dick’s folders together before moving away. He looked Dick up and down, “I wasn’t stringing you along when I informed you that Wayne wouldn't hear of any of our movement. I’m assigning you and your men another mission sooner rather than later. You have today to prepare and review the reports I’ve left in your room”

Dick gaped, first in surprise, then in frustration. He growled and stormed past Slade without a backward glance. Kris watched him go but didn't depart without approval from her commanding officer. Slade glanced at her as they both watched Dick storm down the hallway. Slade sighed as he watched a few people freeze before giving hesitant bows of respect. Dick still saw himself as a teenager sometimes and it was painfully clear when he walked and acted like he wasn't a weapon with fingers and toes. Slade saw the hesitance everyone offered around him. It was partially why he’d forced Dick to select his own private squadron of men and women for missions; that and to keep a closer eye on him.

“Keep an eye on him” Slade rumbled. Kris looked back at Slade with a nod, “Sir”

“He’s going to do something foolish and it may very well be on this mission. Watch him. Bring him back”

“Sir?” Slade looked at her.

“I was under the impression that this…smaller contract was specifically to offer our team lead an outlet after your recent run-in with the Justice League. Should there be any cause to contain him?”

Slade almost smirked, “More has come to light than may cause an exaggerated response. The kid doesn't know where his own line is drawn right now. Bring additional sedatives, but watch him” Slade’s voice became firmer as he left her without a parting glance; making his way in the opposite direction.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Should we step in?” Kris worried as they watched their team lead try to demolish his skin and knuckles against the thickest sandbag available. 

Ronan shook his head as he quietly watched the dark-haired young man, “Are you kidding me?” Jacks said, “At this rate, he’ll have gone through 7 sandbags in 1 day. I wanna see that”

Kris hissed in annoyance and Ronan slapped Jacks over the back of the head. Dick had been pounding away in the gym for long enough for word to spread that the gym was off-limits for the day; behind sat 3 of his most recent sand victims in heaps of pooling sand.

“At least he has the sense not to use any weapons. The Colonel might be pissed if his gym literally ran out of sandbags, like, all of them”

“That’s not any better” Kris admonished, “His fists are going to be brutalized after this. If it causes him any lapse in steadiness and his aim falters tomorrow, the Colonel won't be pleased”

No one argued that point as Dick finally came to the point where each throw, jab, punch, and slash drew more breath from his lungs. Soon enough, Dick had fallen into a sweaty panting mess, but he refused to stop. The wrist and knuckle wraps had failed long ago and now 1 tattered piece of cloth clung faithfully to Dick’s left wrist and palm; held on only by the tackiness of his blood.

“Argh!” Dick yelled out as he slammed his fist straight into the sandbag. It didn't break, but the chain did snap from the sudden forcefulness, throwing it to the ground with a solid thump. He seemed to allow himself to stop then, breathing in heavy panting gulps of air as they all watched the victimized bag bag against the gym floor. Dick turned to pick up the bloody wrist strap a few feet away and caught their gazes, “What?” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly.

Kris sighed and pushed herself to her feet. She made her way towards him, feeling the others join her. Dick watched her darkly and with a hint of suspicion but didn't step back. Kris knew he wouldn't. The colonel had beat his thickheadedness and courage into a narrow, manageable stubbornness ages ago. She picked up Dick’s hands from where it dangled at his side and looked at the shredded skin. Most of the blood was from his knuckles and nail beds; an easy mend and simple heal if left alone for a week or so. She tsked with a warmness that she learned Dick responded to best and pulled him with her to the side where benches lined the freestanding lockers. She guided Dick to sit down and took the offered medkit from Jacks at her other side. She started by wiping all the excess blood, grime, and sand from his hands without even a hint of a hiss from him. She never could tell if his pain tolerance or his acting were his greatest forte. 

“I can never go back,” he said quietly. He said it so simply, not a hair out of place to imply that he was bothered.

Kris looked at him as she held out a hand and Ronan palace antiseptic in her palm, “Are you talking about the Justice League? Dick, I thought you didn't want to go back after what happened”

He lurched to his feet. Kris stumbled back a step and knew that if it weren't for his efforts to control and minimize his offputting appearance, his eyes would be glowing brighter than gold in the California gold rush, “I don't want to!” he seethed.

Ronan had managed to stay the most composed out of all of them, “Then what’s the issue?” he inquired softly, “You’re upset that the Batman has made it clear he won't allow you back and you don't wish to return….yet, you are obviously insulted”

Dick scoffed, shoving away from the group. He laced his hands together behind his head and tipped his chin up, breathing deeply. Kris had seen Major Wintergreen walk him through non-self-destructive calming exercises many times before. The Colonel saw it as a blessing and reward to permit such soft acts, but if Renegade ever lost control of himself or acted out, Colonel Deathstroke often put an end to it swiftly. His ability to cease his weapon’s outbursts also acted as an influential show of power for the men and women who followed Deathstroke for his reputation and sway in the underground. 

“Dick-Ren, talk to us….we can help,” Kris said. She kept her distance as Dick always appreciated their interactions being by his consent. Dick smiled ruefully and tilted his head back enough to just spy them from his periphery, “You know, that’s how my brothers would have approached me too. Well, in different ways I guess….Tim was always the most normal and acclimated. You sound like him a lot you know” his gaze seemed to tighten slightly, “Jason and Damian always had trouble expressing themselves and I think they took advantage of the fact that I went out of my way to be so available for them, but they did come to me more often than anyone else and it always made me feel….” he stared at nothing for half a minute, “Special” he settled for. No one knew what to say for a while and Dick seemed content in the peace. Kris had calmed slightly as it seemed the Colonel’s fears of his heir’s breakdown might not yet come to fruition. That was shattered when Dick spoke again, his voice just light enough to send alarm bells blaring for all 3 team members, “You know” Dick said, “I think adoption and giving birth warrant a different sort of love”

Ronan watched Dick with a readiness in his gaze while Kris and Jacks shared an uneasy look at Dick's absurd statement, “When someone is born, they basically get to flip a coin to see if their parents want them, if their parents are ready to have a child…..I think a bunch of factors like that basically determine the amount of love that a kid develops; the strength of a bond between parent and child”

Still, no one spoke.

“Adoption though,” Dick said with a sad smile, “That’s the epitome of black and white. Either a kid gets chosen, out of thousands of other kids, to go home with a lonely loving family, or,” he said slowly, “They get chosen out of thousands to suffer for whatever their adults have planned….tax fraud, trafficking” Dick waved his hand like the details weren't specific aside the general suffering made poignant. 

“But,” he said pointedly, “I am one of the few people to ever experience both ends of the spectrum”

He barked out a laugh that held no conceivable amount of humor, “My parents were wonderful for as long as I could remember. We were poorer than dirt but I had the most fulfilling childhood anyone could ask for. My mother cooked homemade meals, I was home-schooled, I worked in the circus, I learned from the carnies, and played with the children of whichever town we were stopped in that month” Dick meandered over to the wall that held their racked free weights and danced his fingers over the tops of the 20 and 30-pound barbells, “I’m actually more surprised that I wasn't more traumatized when they were murdered in front of me. Crushed in a way that made me realize gravity was real, even for trapeze artists” He stopped and actually smiled, “But then again…look at where I am now, huh?”

Kris took a step forward but Ronan gripped her elbow with a sharp look, “We might have to call the Colonel. This is how it started last time” he said under his breath. 

“Most would assume that your problems would be fixed as soon as a poor orphan gets adopted by Gotham’s, no, one of the world’s biggest billionaires” Dick shook his head, “But no. I was set up with a vigilante-affiliated therapist and I think the longest conversation I had with Bruce was after he caught me trying to murder Zucco and I forced his secret as Batman out from under him”

Jacks’ mouth gaped in surprise. They had learned a lot about Dick from Slade, Dick himself, and many contextual clues from working as his private combat team, but they never knew he’d attempted murder as a kid, “Who’s Zucco?” he mouthed to Ronan. 

Dick picked up the 20-pound weight and hefted it up and down in his hand with a curious expression, “But after I became Robin, after I was given the tools to make my life better-make it what I wanted… that was when everything fell apart. I realized I’d never be good enough for my new dad. I realized that my name and title were no longer my own and he could just award it to the next black-haired street kid he took in. I even realized that my own parents were pieces of shit” Dick rolled the weight in his hand and passed it to his other hand, “Who knows, maybe they thought that trading experiments on their unborn baby for their safety were worth it, that they’d be safe and miscarry and just try again or something” Dick’s irises darkened and his pupils dilated for a second, “I guess that’s where Master really was right” he murmured, staring off into space with a vacant expression, “I’ll never be anyone's ultimate priority unless I make it so”

“That’s not true Dick,” Kris said slowly, “You’re our priority, duty aside…we care for you deeply. The Colonel cares for you too. Everyone knows not to cross you in fear of him”

Dick’s vacant, far-off gaze didn't change but he did smile slightly, “You may have a point, but then again” he looked at them from across the room, “Liars lie…even if they’re not lying in the moment. Their actions later will always make them a liar; make you a liar for promising me things that you shouldn't”

“Dick-”

“No, Godammit!” Dick chucked the 20-pound weight over the heads like it was a frisbee, “He chose me! He fucking chose me! No one forced him to and then he goes back on his word to be there! To always be there! Killing my brothers and sisters! Keeping me in the dark! He’s left me no way back! He wants me to know that Slade Fucking Wilson is All. I. Have. Left!” Dick turned to the weights and the racks beside it at the last minute and started to overturn everything, toppling it with the vengeance of a toddler that had been gifted a full-grown man’s strength.

“What happened?” Ronan asked Kris seriously, “He was fine yesterday”

Kris shook her head and was at a loss for words, “He was” she agreed, “I don't know....really. I informed the Colonel that the jet was fueled and packed but Ren seemed surprised and was already pissed at something when I went to his office. I-I don't know what's happening”

“Why did Wilson tell you to have us keep an eye on Ren?” Jacks persisted.

“I don't know!” Kris hissed in ferocious worry. She turned back to see Dick destroying the gym in thunderous crashes of weights, equipment, and broken mirrors, “This can't just be from the last mission right?”

No one knew the answer, but as their obligation to the 2 most towering men within their organization called for them, they settled in across the room and waited out the fury of the boy in a man’s body. 

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick looked out the window towards where he knew his target to be. He and his team were stationed 2 buildings away from their target: Michael Cherryeh. Ever since Slade had shown Dick that he was an official member of the hero community’s black watch list for metas, Dick hadn't been able to multitask for the life of him. He ate but didn't sleep. He cleaned his weapons but didn't check the mission report Slade had left for him. He’d thoroughly destroyed the public troops’ training gym but he hadn't lifted a finger to help clean his chaotic mess. The fact that he hadn't heard from Slade about it either meant that the man was letting it go as a sort of apology for presenting Bruce’s latest move to him, or the man was waiting to see if Dick would explode in any other ways before addressing it. The only thing that was clear was that Slade and Dick both knew that completing his assigned missions efficiently, and to the standard of Deathstroke the Terminator, was more than a priority. It was an absolute must. He and Slade were past the threats and the attempts to hammer in how awful Slade would make his life if he failed to up uphold Deathstroke’s name in public. A failed mission, or worse, a messily failed mission would be disastrous for Slade and his income so Dick had complete faith that Slade would turn around and deliver that tenfold to Dick.

The closest he’d gotten to reading the report or researching his assigned target was glancing at his photo. Dick stared at him long and hard the night before, but was unable to determine if the man deserved the swift death Dick was going to deliver. He’d memorized the man’s soft jaw but firm, dead-set eyes. He’d ingrained the formation that his greying brown hair made along his scalp and forehead; implying that he was fighting his genes' attempt to start balding. Dick had stared at his plain brown eyes and could pinpoint the man’s neck mole on his own with little difficulty….but it made little difference. He’d cleaned and checked his gun's ammo 3 times now, accepting that everything was as prepared as it could be. Ronan, as the team's weapons and ammunition expert, was set to make the first shot; a distraction shot to elicit cries and gasps while Dick made the actual shot. It would allow them anywhere from 10 to 65 seconds of getaway time while people scrambled to realize that whatever had exploded had hurt Michael. Kris was on standby beside Jacks in case anything was needed, but Dick always saw a successful mission as less manpower needed. He leveled his sniper on its stand legs and cracked the window of the apartment they’d taken up space in. They were directly behind the target’s home apartment by 2 buildings but had a guaranteed shot as their line of sight was exactly through their window, the building’s in front of them, and the target’s window as well. There was a small anniversary party currently taking place so the target was constantly moving back and forth, greeting people at the door and leaning against walls with ease of family-related conversation. It was stupidly easy.

Beside him, Ronan sat prepared at the ready with a similar, slightly older sniper model. He followed Dick’s lead like the well-trained militia combatant he used to be and placed his sniper neck on the lip of the cracked window, resting the gun against his shoulder and tilting his head just well enough to fit his face seamlessly against the focus. They both sat there, on one knee, the other leg splayed out behind them for balance, and watched the party. The sniper’s focus offered Dick a 120% increased clarity into the smiling faces and assortment of family members as the party continued. Eventually, the party seemed to calm and everyone who would be attending was there; giving Dick’s target a reprieve from answering said door. He refilled his glass with something dark and amber before taking a seat beside a middle-aged woman with a painted face. He threw an arm around her on the couch and leaned in, whispering something that caused her to throw her head back and cackle; swatting him on the arm playfully.

Dick took 4 measure breaths, just as his master had taught him, as he forced him down and made him pull the trigger. 3 for good measure, and 1 more just because Dick’s hyperactive body often betrayed him. He tapped his finger 2 twice where it sat beside the safety and Ronan shot. In less than half a second, the large vase beside the woman exploded, showering the room with soil, plants, leaves, and shouts. The moment the target shifted forward to discern what was happening Dick pulled the trigger. His choice of bullet was almost a whole millimeter smaller than Ronan’s so the momentum carried the bullet further but, when hit, the target didn't explode like Ronan’s did.

His bullet made contact with little fuss against the back of his skull; dropping him in a second. Dick stood immediately and tossed his gun to Jacks. The shorter man caught it with familiar ease and began packing up as Dick pulled out his phone and texted Slade, “Just finished up my homework-heading back soon”

He pocketed his phone and turned to see his team almost done. Dick nodded his approval; less than 4 minutes for a proper cleanup. They’d all worn gloves and longsleeved shirts to avoid wiping down the window sill and doorknobs as they departed as well. They were just getting into their car parked around back when Dick’s phone dinged. He furrowed his brow, certain it couldn't be Slade. The man saw his lack of follow-up on Dick and his actions as some sort of awarded trust he bestowed upon Dick.

He swiped open the screen as Kris pulled away and froze when his most recent person’s of interest data search came up with a possible match for the first time in 14 months. Dick clenched the phone in his fist and took a heavy breath through his nose, “How much ammo do we have left?” Dick asked the car without looking up.

Ronan twisted to look back at Jacks and Dick, “About 5 mags’ worth, why?”

Dick didn't answer as he stared at his phone for a few more minutes. He turned to Jacks, “Cancel our flight back home”

He opened Slade’s name in his phone and sent a new text, “I heard an old friend is in town. I’m gonna visit him on my way back home”

He instantly saw Slade attempt to message back but Dick shoved it in his pocket, “We’re going to Russia” he said, “Now”

No one spoke and Dick knew it was more out of fear and confusion than anything else but he was still grateful for the silence. He looked back at the picture his search had offered him and knew it was the one. The same strawberry blonde hair and sharp jaw. The same spindly long nose and light brown eyes that had stared at Dick while he ripped a man’s concave chest apart organ by organ. The same man who had donned a mask and watched as Dick was subjected to mental and physical torture.

Yassen Gretchovin. Dick but the inside of his cheek to keep the shudders contained. He wasn't about to let this man escape now that he’d found his 6th Owl. He was too desperate to get there and ensure the man didn't live to see another birthday. He knew consulting Slade or the others was the smarter decision but Dick was off his usual morning routine and would be at maximum strength because of it. He had to do this. He had to make sure this man didn't steal another breath of innocent air from anyone ever again.

Focus, he reminded himself. Master will be pissed but he’ll be less so if I return successful.

Dick leaned forward as plots began to formulate against his will. He’d have to make sure the kill was anonymous and quiet…clean and quick. Dick glared at the car floor at that notion, but he’d have to make sure Bruce couldn't trace it back to him or Slade. That no one would even realize that man was missing for a few days so that the police could take over and label it some lost millionaire case, What's the point? he thought spitefully, Bruce has already tarnished my name and thrown me to the wolves. He‘s basically stated to the world that no one can trust me and that I’m as good as dead to him now. What else is there for me but the path I’ve been choosing with Slade?

Why not go all out? A sultry voice murmured. Dick nearly flinched, unsure if it was Slade’s voice, Cobb’s, or something more sinister or combined. Why not show the world exactly why you deserve to be on such an infamous list? Own it, don't run from the fact that you're impossible to match. Even Bruce can't compete with you in this way. Slade knows it- that's why he wants you, why he covets you and your skills…why he cherishes you and-

Dick shook his head, desperate to rid himself of the dark train of thoughts. He hated allowing his mental landscape free run of his thoughts because the longer he spent on his own the more unsure he was if his internal commentary was Slade or all the negative forces severely impacting his integral thought process. A darker, more grievous worry was that it was just truly him, “Give me an estimated ETA on if we leave for Russia right now” Dick barked, desperate o focus on anything that didn't bubble and boil the dark, salacious thoughts and urges clawing up from under his skin and bone marrow. He knew he had to take this opportunity and make the most of it. Even if the man didn't suffer, snuffing him and everyone else out was the endgame. Without or with his family’s love, Dick would ensure their safety.

Chapter 14

Notes:

Hey! heads up for some spice here if you're not too into any slade/dick stuff

“Ren” Kris asked, “Are you sure we should be charging in like this?”

She’d been referring to him by his field codename ever since he’d taken one dangerous step too closely and snarled that she was being unprofessional by challenging him, “The colonel has been calling each of us”

“I know,” Dick said calmly, “I’ll deal with him when we get back”

“He’s pissed, man” Jacks insisted, “We-”

“He is my master. My responsibility” Dick spat. Ronan placed a hand on each of their shoulders and towered over them with a calming presence, “What do you need of us, Renegade?”

Kris looked at Ronan with a slight frown but Dick seemed to calm at the use of his title. Kris was worried as she’d seen Deathstroke snap the dark-haired man into a strange automatic transe with certain sharp words. The right tonality or phrase seemed to rob Dick of all the sentimentality that made the soldiers still try to get to know him, despite his horrid dark reputation. He'd become colder and sterner, seeming to need a soldier-like structure and behavior to function any longer. She’d seen it happen a few times with men who had been captured by the enemy and returned home. When they didn't have any family or friends to return to after so many years, they seemed to cave in on themselves and their soldier persona became their only identity; striving off of cold formality and harsh structure.

Dick rolled his shoulder back and replied, “I need you to stay put; that’s what I need” he turned to them more fully, “You’re sure he’s alone?”

Ronan and Kris nodded, “This is a villa he hides from his wife, his mistresses, and the help; one of his only forms of privacy”

Dick nodded, “Good. Stand guard and ensure we extend his privacy”

They’d made the 2-day trip to Moscow and then another 15-hour drive into the barren cold wasteland that was barely inhabited by most Russians. They’d tracked his movement, and sudden location confirmation, to a few receipts and card transactions when he’d run out of cash to pay for things. A quick delve into his day-to-day revealed that he took a weekend every other month to hide himself away from his CEO and family responsibilities. Dick wasn’t surprised by any of the information that was displayed before him, almost as if he already knew everything about the mam. They’d confirmed that Yassen was home alone and then popped his tires and removed his ice chains. They’d left their own car a mile and a half away and trekked through the snow up to the property. Jacks had pulled up their rear with a specific type of plastic to drag over their footprints. A man of Yassen’s wealth would warrant a significant police search when he was found missing. Then again, the fact that his villa was a hideaway from just about anyone and everyone in his life also offered them an even greater time buffer from when the cops would be informed he was missing to actually tracking down his last location. The wife wouldn't want to help as she would inherit everything with her children, the mistresses would want to offer aid but be unable to as he kept his side lovers in the dark for the sake of his children and marriage.

Suddenly, Kris’s watch started to beep and her and Ronan’s comms started going off. They looked back to Dick awkwardly but his expression never wavered, “Do. Not. Answer. That” he said coldly. Jacks fidgeted slightly as their intimate team lead ordered them to disobey the ranking authority so firmly. They didn't want to throw Dick under the bus when they returned but genuinely feared the repercussions from the Colonel for ignoring Deathstroke and Terminator when he called; multiple times. Dick observed them all for a moment longer before he turned and secured the strap that held his best short sword. It was a hand-crafted short-hand katana, gifted to him by Slade. Dick’s team had often heard him and the forearm-length sword referred to as the butcher. Without another look at his team Dick made his way towards the quaint secluded villa.

He knew that despite the property’s purpose being purely for securing its owner's privacy from everyone, there would be cameras all over. A man of his worth and experience didn't go anywhere without 1 backup contingency plan. Dick wasn't worried though, he hadn't given the order but was thinking about having his team burn down the single villa as it would provide an alibi if the police tracked Yassen’s movements quicker than expected. They’d be able to burn and blame it on a drunk billionaire burning down his home and himself in one fell. It would also be quick as the windy storm and occasional snow would provide partial cover against any nearby towns that might be able to spot the smoke. He knew that kris would also appreciate that the snow would ensure the fire didn't evolve into a wildfire. Despite her background and skills, lending her to be one of Slade’s most brutal contract killers, she had an immense soft spot for creatures that often reminded him of Damy. Despite being nurtured into a living weapon with unforgivable tendencies, the small green-eyed boy still managed to develop a soft spot for innocent animals. Dick could understand the need to distance innocent creatures from the violence of humans, or at least he thought he did.

He stepped up to the front door and picked the simple lock in a second, dealing with the electronic keypad in another half minute. Dick almost scoffed out loud but had the sense to stay quiet as he stepped inside. He closed the door quietly, pressing down on the handle until the inner door lock was completely back in place. He looked around, appreciating the sudden warmth, as Cobb’s work against his body had left him with a permanent chill ever since; evolving into a general dislike of winter as it brought too much water and cold for Dick’s senses. He still tried to avoid baths unless therapeutically ordered by Wintergreen. The main foyer was bright and open, leading to a Spanish-styled archway and a kitchen just beyond that. The kitchen had an open concept as well and shared one large room with the living room. The blinds were all closed and the quiet hum of a heater filled the room with a soothing buzz. For a second Dick felt the hairs along his arms and nape raise in alarm as he compared the hum in the air to the hum of ceiling lights…bright white, powerful lights showering him in numbness-Dick bit his inner cheek and forced the direction of his internal thoughts elsewhere. 

He stepped from the kitchen to the living room, trying to take stock of anything out of the ordinary. If he didn't know any better, he’d assume that nobody was home. Dick peered around the corner to find a single bathroom before a creak froze him in his slightly bent posture. Dick didn't even move his head to look around as he held his breath and tried to listen for more. For a second he’d feared someone was behind him but another few seconds passed with no pistol barrel to the back of his head. His gaze slowly dragged upward and, as if on cue, another creak sounded, curling Dick’s lips. Found you

He slowly made his way back to the main foyer and the entrance to the house before moving right to the winding staircase. Luckily, the center was carpeted in a fashion he’d seen in almost every upper-class Gotham household. He took his steps slowly, climbing up the stairs with a beating heart that might have given him away if it was Slade he was stalking. At the top of the landing, he heard a small sound of metal. Dick tilted his head, listening for more and the sound came again. It sounded similar to when Slade sharpened his blades, but not quite. Dick took another step forward, reaching over himself for his short-hand blade as he neared the open doorway. He halted in the bedroom’s opening and couldn't contain the feral, cheshire grin that spread his lips wide. The man was dressed in a robe and bent over, facing away from him. He was pruning a small bonsai tree with metal shears that looked more appropriate for a needle sewing kit.

The man still hadn't noticed his presence and Dick was suddenly overcome with a fury that prickled his skin and tore at the corners of his lips and eyes. He snarled and threw his knife at the man; impaling his hand and the tree to the same wall inches before him. The man choked on a cry of surprise before the pain registered seconds later and he shrieked as his skin was split and bright red dribbles began spurting from the back of his hand. He tried to weakly tug his arm but the pain of the blade’s sharp edge slicing into him further forced him to stop after just one feeble attempt. The dark blonde-haired man turned back to Dick and he froze, his lips sputting in fear as he gazed upon Dick. Dick prowled forward with a malicious sneer. He yanked the blade from the man and the small potted tree, letting him collapse and scramble away. His heel kept catching on the long edges of his robe so the frantic man settled for crawling away on his hands and knees, whimpering with every bit of pressure he applied to his bloodied hand. 

Dick twirled his knife and was suddenly struck by the notion that he wanted nothing other than to bother the man before him. To upset his stomach, curdle his blood, and cause his knees to wobble in fear. Dick brought the bloody knife to his lips and drew his tongue up the flat of the blade in one long languid lick; all while smiling. The moment Dick’s senses registered the acrid copper taste of the man’s blood, his stomach revolted and Dick frowned, suddenly overly upset by the man’s essence invading his system. He took another 2 steps forward and spat his blood messily into the man’s face. Yassen jerked and tried to rear back but was caught off by the wall at his back. He gaped up at Dick, “G-Grey Son! Stop! Halt!”

Dick felt the urge immediately. He felt the shrill vibration and tug in his fingers and toes like there was an elastic wire, connected to his appendages, that urged him down until he was splayed down in a bow before the man. Dick barred his teeth in a snarl so rough and guttural, his own throat hurt. For a moment, Dick was grateful that Yassen was always a weak-willed man; his tonality and authority leaving much to be desired in his commands of others. If Dick’s grandfather had stood before him and given him a single stern order, Dick was stricken to admit he had no idea if he could stand up to such an event, not yet. That admission alone, made his palms sweat. He clenched his fists and resisted the subtle notions, the yearnings a small part of him still reached for. Slade’s familiarity with the Court had come in handy for a few purposes, de-conditioning Dick had been almost as hellish as his actual captivity, but worth it all the same. He slowly kneeled down and cocked his head innocently like he was listening to the man. The man’s eyes widened with the slightest bit of hope but as soon as he parted his lips Dick thrust down, with all his might, jamming the knife into the man’s foot, right where the curve met his foot, severing the ligaments in a near disabling injury. The man’s eyes widened and teared up from the absolute pain. He seemed to want to reach for his foot but found his voice beforehand, letting out a brutal high-pitched shriek.

Dick pulled it out, causing the man's cry to jump a pitch higher. He pressed the bloody dripping blade to the man's lips; silencing him behind stuttered gasps and sobs. The man was hyperventilating so desperately he was almost breathing in the blade between gulps of air. Dick shushed him softly and they sat like that, staring at each other and listening to Dick’s morbid coos until the man regained control of his breath, “Now” Dick purred, “Isn't that better, Yassen?”

Yassen couldn't speak, staring at Dick in a combination of fear and awe. Dick knew the man was overcome and that most of his thoughts were incoherent at the moment. He himself had felt like that for the first 2 years or so; just until the numbness settled in, “Crying doesn't do us any good, does it?” Dick said, mirroring the same words that man had sneered at him for crying and sobbing through every bit of public torture Cobb put him through. In the beginning, Dick was flayed open and laid bare for the Court of Owls to gaze and poke at. It wasn't until Dick’s shattered mind yearned to fulfill everything Cobb set before him that the Court gazed upon him while he flayed others.

“No, no” Dick replied for Yassen, “It’s just an awful, unnecessary sound, isn't that right?”

He dragged the blade slowly up and down his cheek, not taking care to watch the blade as it nicked moles or the edges of skin every now and then. Yassen was utterly still now, “How-ho-”

“How? How?” Dick mocked before his fury returned tenfold and playing with Yassen seemed too light a punishment for the blonde sadist. He stabbed the knife into the wall beside his victim’s head, earning a satisfied yelp as he cringed away and tried to cover his head. Dick sneered and withdrew the blade, “I guess now that the Court has disbanded, Lydia and William have left the rest of you for dead”

Dick shrugged as he pushed himself to his feet, “Makes it all easier for me in the end. I can deal with the bitch and bastard last if they want to run to the Light for protection”

Yassen shook his head, tears falling more freely, “N-no, William said he was securing more protection from the Light for us. He said if we laid low then-”

“Then what?” Dick asked with genuine curiosity, “Then I could blow a hole in Adelles’ head?” Yassen’s breathing halted but Dick’s smile grew, “Or maybe I could snap Lin’s Neck? Oh, or maybe I could burn a hole in Song’s esophagus, right down to her heart” Dick chuckled, “Now that’s some serious heartburn”

Yassen’s expression took on a morbid, disgusted expression and Dick almost couldn't fathom that he was being judged by such a vulgar lowlife as Yassen Gretchovin. Dick’s eyes widened and a frantic, deranged smile speared his face, “Oh? What’s this? Are you bothered? I have to admit I’m a teeeeny bit surprised because, well you know” Dick winked at Yassen, “You had me whipped, waterboarded” Dick began ticking off items on his fingers casually, “Bound and beaten, experimented on…I think the most memorable is when you challenged Cobb to test if I could really heal from anything so then each and every one of your FUCKERS!” Dick shrieked, “Had Cobb and Lincoln kill me a different way” Dick's voice quieted significantly, “I died 10 times that day” Dick whispered. He looked down at the blade in his hand, “Coming back never gets easier…only quicker” he said, almost feeling Slade’s affirming hand on his shoulder, repeating it like a mantra; just like the older man had walked him through time and time again.

He looked at Yassen, getting back on point, “Cobb’s left you to the will of your victims Yassen….moi” Dick bowed deeply. He moved over to the torn, bloody bonsai tree, “He’s hiding somewhere, hoping the Light will come save him again, from me and Deathstroke. All the while, I’m picking off your pathetic little board of Owls piece by piece”

He looked to the corner of the room, beside the small bonsai tree, and spotted a tall, manicured rose bush, almost his height. The rose bush's main stem was thick, almost larger than a baseball bat with large, well-earned thorns adorning its entirety. Dick grinned and walked closer to it. He looked it up and down and spotted a pair of thick gardening gloves beside Yassen’s small shears, “You know” he began calmly, “I don’t think you or Cobb, or any of your fucked up med school dropouts, realized what exactly they’d done to me. No one does”

“We-I can help you, Grey Son-”

Dick turned to Yassen with a wild franticness in his amazed smile, “Don't. Call. me. That” he breathed slowly.

The man nodded with a startled wide look, “I can help. Cobb wanted you because of your lineage. There’s bound to be more research in-”

Dick scoffed and turned back to the bush pruning display, “I’ve heard it all before Yassen. Hayley’s circus has had quite a few disappearances over the years. I was the next unlucky brat”

“No!” he softened his tone a Dick’s look, “I-I mean, there’s more than that. Your mother was chosen specifically because of her lineage. It was just a coincidence that your father was married to her, that allowed Cobb control over the experiments”

Dick eyes Yassen without a hint of expression, “My mother was the only successful volunteer amongst 10 failed fetal experiments”

Yassen hesitantly nodded, “Well, yes, but only because all of those women had the same special gene sequence that Cobb was told to look for in the parents. He-he was told that if he found the right subjects then he could test his evolution project on them. We were told that the survivor would be able to prove they had the right genes by making it through Cobb's crazy experiment”

Dick stepped forward, “Why? What were they looking for?”

Yassen’s brow took on a softened posture but his mouth tilted up in hope, “I-I don’t know for sure, but I can help you find o-”

Dick rolled his eyes and turned away again, disregarding the man completely. Yassen spluttered in fear at Dick’s response, “Wait-wai-”

 He picked up the gloves and turned back to a quivering, wide-eyed, Yassen, “Don’t want to hurt myself with these big thorns, you know” like Yassen would nod and agree. He turned back to the rose and grabbed the top before digging his own blade into the bottom, about 2 feet below his grip. He sawed through the rose’s stem easily and then laid it against the desk and cut the flowers from the stem, leaving Dick with a 2-foot-long spiked bat. Dick smirked ironically, like nature’s own nailed baseball bat he thought.

He turned back around and the moment the blonde man saw the cut stem, he panicked again, scrambling backward against the wall in a futile manner. Dick tsked and stepped closer. Yassen held up his bloody hand, “Please!” he rushed out, “Please! I’ll do anything! It was all Cobb, your grandfather was the true leader of the Court. We were just his funding and I have no real part in it-”

Dick shushed him sharply, “You think I don't know that?” he asked with an annoyed attitude, “You think I haven't done my research to the point of knowing that you have American Victoria's Secret brand boxers made especially for you?”

Yassen froze with his lips parted, unsure. Dick scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I know, Yassen….I know everything. But that doesn't change. A. Thing” Dick tapped his thorned stick on Yassen’s nose with every word. Before Yassen could prepare, Dick swung hard, slamming the thorny bat into the side of Yassen’s face with a sickening squelch and thump. The man shrieked as his face and the corner of his eye were pierced. Dick planted a boot against the man’s chest and pulled, not taking care to pull the same way he swung so even more skin was torn and shredded on the exit.

“My grandfather led you all around like the lowly dogs you are. But that doesn't mean you’re innocent in any of this. Everyone’s gotta pay something in the end”

Yassen swallowed heavily as he fearfully cupped around the right side of his face, “What-what would you have me do? Please” his voice was strangled and thin.

Dick smiled a toothy grin before he tilted his head down, casting a dangerous shadow and glinting over his eyes, “Sit still” he said.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jacks pushed off from the tree he was leaning on as soon as the front door made a clicking sound. The rest of Dick’s team jerked to attention as Dick’s made himself present. He held something in his right hand and his face was splotched with something speckled. As he calmly made his way towards them, Kris frowned at the state of his face. His cheeks and forehead were speckled with blood. A few trails tore along his right ear, but most of the blood spatter was excluded to his upper chest. Despite his black attire, they could easily make out the even dark splotches and wet stains along his chest and upper arms. His gloves were even more so, and Kris wondered if she could grip the gloves tight and wring out blood from how coated it looked. Ronan narrowed his eyes on Dick’s hands as well, noting the red-coated stick. It was almost as long as his entire arm and held large straight thorns jutting out all along the stick. The edges were cut and Ronan realized it was some sort of stem or branch; like a rose stem. Ronan looked back at the house, wondering if there was a garden where Dick had killed Yassen in. The stick was coated to the point of producing small drips from the larger thorns as Dick held it pointed down lightly in his grip. Without a single word, he handed the blood rose stem to Jacks who took it in both hands, looking to Kris with a rare hesitant expression in his eyes.

Dick breathed in deeply and placed his hands in his front pockets and rolled his shoulders back. He looked at Kris, “Take it down” he ordered.

Kris blinked, “What?” She looked back to the villa cottage and then back at her commanding officer, “Won’t that draw atten-”

Dick felt his knees go weak as a sense of deja vu overcame him in a nauseating fashion. For a second, the bright white snow around them was actually the illumination of the monitors in the Batcave. Dick found himself weak in the knees as he listened to Clark ask Bruce in a whisper, “What?”

“Take it down or I will” Bruce ordered.

Dick saw movement to his right and suddenly a small brown squirrel against the white backdown of his mind brought him back to the present. He blinked at Kris as he struggled not to crumble under such an influx of emotions. For a second, his inhale felt shaky so he clenched his fists and dug his blunt nails into his palms until the sting bordered on painful.

He stepped in quick and close, causing Kris to tense, “Take it down. Burn it down. Take out the support, or I will”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Slade sat reclined in his primary office, out of the way of any of his employees, soldiers, contractors, and more. His apprentice was really the only one who had any reason to visit his space, but with his jovial presence and friendly nature, often came Wintergreen and his small band of teammates. Flacon had messaged him discreetly when they landed, but the moment his apprentice and his team had refused his initial call he’d had other men deployed to track them and keep tabs. It was only a few hours after their flight to Russia that Slade had clued into what his apprentice was setting off to do. Slade allowed it, more curious than anything to see what the boy could manage in a spontaneous fit of willful rage and vengeance. He knew his bird’s team would be hesitant to face him. Their team leader had most likely ordered them not to respond to anyone, dead set, and determined to follow through on whatever he wanted to accomplish with this Court member. All the victims had been different and Slade had taken to taking a backseat as soon as his bird’s prey was before him. In the beginning, his poor, lost boy had begged his victims. He’d pleaded to know why they had hurt him so and asked them if it was worth it in a very Nightwing-reminiscent interrogation. The boy’s first target was Kin Huey, the easiest target by Slade’s standards. The exchange did not go well after Huey had started trying to use Dick’s learned conditioned phrasing. The boy had been shocked, then, hurt and angry, and then lost. His eyes glowed fiercely before he’d lost control of himself and pulled the East Asian man limb from limb. 

Dick had come back to himself in a fine sheet of sweat and blood, huddled within Slade’s arms; Slade couldn't say the night wasn't a memorable one. The way the boy had been desperate for his touch, for his comfort and closeness in a way that had Slade’s pulse thrumming with the vitality of a younger man. Just reminiscing about such a long heated night of blood and other, made Slade’s toes curl, even now. The doors to his office opened without a knock and his apprentice entered. Slade’s lip turned up in smugness at the sight of the boy. He’d had more than enough time to change and clean up on the flight and then the car ride over. His appearance told Slade he’d chosen not to. Whether it was to impress Slade or to wither longer in his victim’s blood and bodily fluids, Slade would be the first to admit what a sight the dark-haired bird made. His lean height, coupled with his sultry complexion and off-setting dark hair was a sight all on its own. Something Slade and any other man who knew true value and worth at a single glance would covet with passionate obsession. But now, the blood-spattered, bright blue-eyed, dark-haired man did nothing beneficial for Slade’s sensibilities. He rather wished the boy hadn't brought his team along so that he wasn't obligated by his role as their Colonel to exert self-control over himself.

The dried blood along his bird’s suit and skin had taken on a crusty texture and started flaking off in some places, the fact that it had been on his skin for long enough to do so, touched something animal in Deathstroke the Terminator. Dick stepped forward with a nod, “Master” he said quietly. Slade watched him, enjoying the way his apprentice put effort into stilling his shoulders, and maintaining his breathing. Slade allowed the room to persist in science for a moment longer; all while he watched his boy. Eventually, the boy’s eyes flitted up to his and seemed to recognize that Slade wanted his attention. It was clear the boy was still unsure if Slade would permit his unapproved adventure or if he was deciding what punishment to befell his wayward student.

Eventually, Slade allowed his gaze to draw elsewhere, eventually landing on the hands of Wildcat; Dick’s most unnecessary team member, “What is that?” Slade inquired softly.

Jacks startled in surprise before he jerkily lifted his hands and took a step forward, “A rose… stem” he glanced at Dick and then back, “Sir”

Slade huffed in quiet humor as he imagined what could have happened in desolate Russia for his student to come back with a bloody stick, and the calmest demeanor he’d had since he realized how to impede his body's own genetics. Slade tilted his head, permitting his apprentice to play his shy, bashful game. Whatever he’d done to Yassen had quieted a rage that had been fueling and unfurling inside his little bird for a long long time. Slade narrowed his eye and sat forward, whatever his bird had done, had appeased him more than any other Court of Owls kill so far, “Report” he ordered. Dick’s shoulders stiffened and fell back into a graceful militant posture; one that Slade had made sure he was familiar enough with to fall asleep standing in.

He made eye contact before his lashes lowered slightly, “Mission was a success. The ambulance arrived 8 minutes after his death. Eerie initiated a distraction while I executed the target from the back with a .2 mm. The witnesses most likely reported false statements to the attending ECM and police as only a medical examiner will be able to find the bullet hole”

Slade smirked and steepled his fingers, “Alright” he said slowly, “Now report on what I really want to know”, he looked to the teammates behind him, “Were you present?”

Falcon shook her head, “No, sir. We were directed to wait outside and to sabotage any possible means of escape”

Slade looked back to Dick with an expectant brow. Dick’s jaw clenched before he looked at Slade more directly. He stepped forward until he was towing over his master. He laid a small bloody bag on the table beside Slade; only big enough for about 3 pills, “I was made aware of Yassen Gretchovin’s location and redirected our trajectory on our way back to base. My team confirmed his placement within a secluded villa and the lack of others nearby, save for a small village about 40 kilometers away. We parked and hid our tracks before trekking to the property. I ordered my team to wait as backup and proceeded inside. The target was unaware of my presence and was dealt with swiftly”

Slade slowly turned to look at the bag Dick had placed before him, thumbing it slightly to see past the blood coating the object inside. His fingers froze mid-swipe and his dark stormy attention was redirected back to Dick. Dick swallowed heavily as he looked from Slade to the bag, “He-he liked to cry” Dick said almost insecurely. His gaze flitted from Slade’s covetous expression back to the bloody baggie in a fashion that almost mirrored a hummingbird. Slade stood, abandoning the bag and all other pretenses. Dick licked his lips in anticipation of whatever he feared or expected from Slade, but one look into the man’s eye stilled him. They both froze, watching the other. Slade’s chest and shoulders were almost still and void of breath. His fingers twitched in need to touch the young man before him, to possess the weapon given lungs and a heart. Dick’s breath stuttered as he took in Slade’s molten steel grey eye and the way his form tensed, almost held back by an invisible force. The man’s towing figure, broad shoulders, powerful legs, and armored figure were always a sight, but seeing the man’s pupils dilate and zero in on Dick’s body; all from his gift. His proof of mission completion had pleased Slade so much, the man was restraining himself and Dick found himself overheated, like someone had laid his internal organs in the Arabian sun for days on end and then placed them back inside his cold, untouched skin.

“Report to my rooms. Now” The man ordered in a voice so deep and commanding, Dick nearly shivered and shuddered in something he’d kill not to call need.

Slade watched his apprentice depart from the room and down the north hall to his rooms. He waited for a second if only to claim to himself that he didn't desire to be shadowing the heels of his boy. If there was one thing Dick Grayson could always be counted on it would be to steal Salde’a attention at the worst times. He could ruin any mission, turn over the most perfect plan, and still, Slade would be taken by the demanding look in the boy’s eyes. The one that he seemed, even to this day, completely oblivious to. He could accidentally corral loyalty, inspire hope, and redirect passion and the boy's naivety would still claim to be placing a hand over his ears and another over his eyes.

And he’s mine, Slade thought hungrily, Utterly mine

Before he realized it, he was at the door. He halted and turned to face Dick’s teammates, annoyed by their constant presence around his boy, “Leave that” Slade commanded before exiting the room, trusting the fear he inspired to keep his soldiers in line and within the boundaries of their confining roles and ranks.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Kris, Ronan, and Jacks all waited in silence after both of their commanding officers left. They weren't unused to things when it came to the heady possessive way Deathstroke interected with their team lead. The man was infatuated with Renagde, whether he was punishing the boy or praising him. It was more uncommon to see the same passionate possessiveness returned, but that wasn't to say it had never happened before. Deathstroke and his heir, Renegade, were a gory ghost story amongst the ranks of Slade Wilson’s men for a reason. They didn't just inspire fear and unsettle those around them, they made themselves present to reinforce every cruel uncertainty a man might think up about the Terminator and his living weapon. Everyone knew that Renegade was untouchable, the sentiment held different weights for different ranks of men. kris had heard some newer recruits speak of him as if it meant that Renegade was too good to be taken down by anyone besides the Terminator; she knew differently. Most who knew the literal weight of that statement's meaning assumed it was a preference from the young dark-haired man. The way he tensed and backed away from sudden movements or narrowed his eyes when someone tracked him too much for the predator’s liking..... It wasn't until she and her fellow soldiers were assigned and hand-picked to be Ren’s private fleet; a personal combatant team for certain missions, that they truly realized what a strange and warped dynamic the 2 men had.

Some had gossiped that they were father and son, but Kris would worry if that were the case. The way the Colonel’s touches lingered for a second too long, and the way his gaze carded and caressed certain curves and crevices with an intent no genuine father would be naturally. In return, the way Renegade’s bright blue eyes would lock onto the Colonel the moment he entered a room would rival that of a bird of prey. His body often stilled in a receptiveness to anything the imposing man had to offer; good or bad. The young man was a force to be reckoned with but he and Deathstroke the Terminator seemed to thrive off one another in a way that put the word codependency to shame. Their push and pull was a sight to see. No one else could, or was permitted, to push Deathstroke the way Dick Grayson did. Kris had seen it herself, not even a whole month after being assigned to the intimidating young man’s personnel. Something had happened….he had returned with his master from a mission and was obviously high-strung and restless. He’d been shifting from foot to foot and couldn't keep any food to drink down. He’d refused any offers of aid before someone had stepped too close. It was a subtle move, but reminiscent of when someone set off a rabid dog. When asked, that person might say I don't know what it was exactly but he is a dog …and the listeners would nod in understanding. A young soldier had been a tad too insistent, a step too close and Renegade had snapped. Black veins flooded his figure, coating his underarms and wrists, scrambling up his throat and into his face through means of his neck and jaw.

He’d been feral, snarling and swiping, throwing things with a strength that would put Bane to shame. Many had been killed that day, the clinic doctor reporting that more than 10 men had been lost to blunt force trauma. That was also the first and only time Kris had ever witnessed Deathstroke on the defensive. His heir had ripped off his mask, shredded his chest, and made the man bleed. Deathstroke the Terminator, the living God who existed by no rules or standards other than his own. The immortal God, descended upon the world, had been hurt; severely. Of course, the man had healed in moments, been perfectly fine within the hour even, but the event had left Kris with nightmares that rivaled certain combat zones from her time in governmental service. The only way their colonel had succeeded in subduing their team lead was by injecting him with something small and bright, almost blue, and then throwing him into a frigid shower. The boy had howled and cried, raking his fingers against the tiles and slamming his fists everywhere he could before falling catatonic. Kris and Ronan had stood in the doorway and watched as Renegade collapsed against his master’s chest, heaving for breath despite the showerhead being set on light-medium.

Deathstroke had pulled him tight to his chest and curled his large legs around his lower body, encasing the boy between him and the cracked shower tiles. He leaned in and murmured to him while the pair sat there soaking and bloodied. 

Renegade never responded to a single thing. He sat there tight and stiff and clutching at any part of the Colonel he could get to, and all the while Slade Wilson held him tight and smiled.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Slade found his bird right where he’d ordered him to. In seconds, he’d closed the door and made himself known, towering over the dark-haired young man who usually did so to others. The boy bit his lip and glanced at Slade and his surroundings. Slade scoffed internally, as if the boy hadn't spent his fair share of nights within this very room. He wasn't sure if his little bird was trying to play coy or if he was truly oblivious to the way Slade’s fingers itched to wretch his hair back, digging his fingers into his vividly dark locks. Or if the boy was truly oblivious to the way that Slade’s skin and tongue desperately yearned for the creature before him; how even his pores seemed to want to close the distance between them until Slade could determine, without fault, whether or not the boy’s skin still tasted of his enemy's blood. The thought alone had Slade clenching his fists in restraint. A motion that caught the blue eyes before him like a Falcon spots prey from yards away.

Slade leaned forward and Dick leaned back. He leaned in further and Dick countered again. They did this until Dick’s back hit the far wall beside the bed and then Slade pounced. He shot forward and pinned Dick’s wrists against the, it wasn't in his code, nor DNA, to not fight. Batman had him fight for justice, Cobb had him fight his own conscience, and Slade was setting him up to fight the world. He’d taken off his mask when he exited and left Dick’s pathetic teammates behind. He knew they truly believed they were around to support his feral bird of prey. They thought they were present to comfort and soothe Renagde in case he ever lost himself to his unfound genetics like before. Slade knew better, Dick did too. Those weaklings were only around because Dick, while immortal, was still young and in need of the type of socialization that his brothers or teammates offered him previously. 

He leaned in until they were all but sharing breath, “You beat him with a rose bush?” Slade inquired softly.

Dick swallowed before answering, “Just-Just with the stem”

Slade couldn't refrain from the soft smile that graced the corner of his mouth, “And you brought me another gift as well it seems”, referring to the small bloodied baggie he'd left on his desk.

Dick’s gaze flickered between Slade’s eye and eyepatch, “I lost control” he said softly, “Again”

Slade smirked lightly, “You don't seem troubled by this, pretty bird”

Dick frowned and glanced away, “You’re the one always saying how I should find the small enjoyments in contracts and missions, besides…he deserved worse”

Slade tsked and guided Dick’s face back to his with a crook of his finger beneath his chin, “You misunderstand, kid. I couldn't be more thrilled”

Slade breathed the word out in a way that seemed to convey, exactly how pleased Slade was and the effects of his heir and student coming back, not only still covered in blood, but with trophies to accompany him. Dick’s pupils dilated and Slade had to keep his features neutral.

“I’m merely curious is all. Why this Owl and none of the others”

Dick licked his lips as if answering Slade was taking immense focus away from his staring contest with Slade’s eye and lips, “Becau-I found him. It was my mission and I just wanted it done right, but then he tried to use those words on me” Dick spat, “And I” he sighed and his fingers twitched as he fought for the use of his hands to card through his hair like of often did when too much ran rampant through his mind, “I just lost it. I wanted it slow and painful, but I was too angry and it-it felt so good. I couldn't decide how I wanted it to end for him” Dick glared at Slade’s chest and his fists clenched where they were still restrained against the wall, “And it felt good, and I was so hot but the air was so cold but his blood was hotter and it-I-I think I lost myself again-just for a moment and- Mmmm”

He was cut off as Slade descended upon his weapon of mass destruction. For a few seconds, all he was able to register was the taste of Slade’s usual mint gum and the bitterness of the Irish and Cuban cigars he preferred. He finally managed a gasp and Slade took full advantage, licking his way into his mouth with an authority that very much suited Deathstroke the Terminator. Dick wretched his face away with a snarl and glared at Slade as horribly as he could manage beneath his surprise. He leaned as far back as he could; which wasn't much with the wall at his back. Slade cocked his head and dragged his eyes up and down Dick, waiting for his little bird to make his move and proclaim his vehemence against Slade’s actions. When all they did was continue to watch each other, Slade smiled slyly and slowly leaned back in. When their lips were a hair’s breadth away from each other Dick parted his mouth to protest, to do something, but Slade Wilson was too fast.

Slade slotted his lips to Dick’s full mouth until he could almost feel the indents of his teeth. He didn't leave very much opportunity for the boy to do anything besides experience his own devouring. He focused on his upper lip, before pressing against the cusp of his mouth and traveling down to his bottom lip, pulling and pulling until the perfect combination of a whine and a moan reverberated from within Dick's throat. Slade growled in response, utterly devoted to ensuring more of that sound was produced. He caged his bird in further and pressed until the only air accessible to the boy was Slade’s breath. The dark-haired body quivered beneath him and Slade was hard bound to admit he was eager to see those familiar bright golden eyes, just screaming at how close he was to losing control; how out of his depth he was. He was devoted to the kid's natural baby blues, but his enhanced irises really confirmed Slade's effect on the boy. To have that kind of power over such a bright soul as Dick Grayson…to be able to claim to be the one to have given him a shadow to rival his inner sun….it was intoxicating to a level Slade would never be satiated from. He needed to possess the boy, mind, body, and soul. He wanted to be the only thought in that pretty bird’s head, the only thing he dreamed of, and the only true motivation he needed.

Dick whined again and Slade was pulled back to the present. He pulled back and Dick gasped a breathy, strangled inhale, earning him a smirk from Slade. Slade kissed the fair elongated neck barred to him and murmured against his skin, “Don’t try and pretend I’d ever be upset with you over some blood kid” he placed a wet tongue beneath his ear, forcing Dick’s body to tremble and his breath to stutter, “Any amount of blood, really.” he inhaled largely, savoring the smell of stale blood and sweat that had yet to be washed off, “There are very few things in this world that I wouldn't give to see you drenched in it” he snarled the last few words into Dick's face. He traded Dick’s wrists into one hand and used his free hand to tilt Dick’s head with a hand in his locks, “You’ve always been a challenge for me, pretty bird. I think you knew it too” Dick's hands clenched into fists above his head and he tensed, “Now” Slade purred. “You're a whole new challenge…but I think you know that as well. Don't you kid?” 

Dick looked up into Slade's bare face and single steel eye. He took a few moments to regain his breath and licked his lips, tasting the gunpowder and blade-polishing oil that Slade always had on his person. They watched each other in tense silence. Their pants seemed to be the only form of life in the room. Dick's fists slowly unclenched and he seemed to understand the challenge and opportunity Slade was presenting him with. The opportunity to choose….to challenge himself with someone who had always been there throughout his crime* fighting career. Now Dick had the opportunity to throw himself into the fiery pits of hell. Slade smirked wolfishly at him and Dick's pupils narrowed in on Slade's face. He was certain the boy was debating on how to back down in a way that softened any blow to his ego. But like always, where Ronin was concerned, he was vehemently surprised when the boy surged up to him and crashed their lips together in a bloody clang of teeth and tongue. 

Slade didn't allow the boy to second guess anything and maneuvered his grip to Dick's throat and hip bone. Pinning the boy to the drywall until the drywall creaked under the weight of their combined strength. He pulled away for the briefest of moments to unlatch the armor cuffing his forearm. He pulled his tactical glove off with his teeth and bared a sharp grin. His hand traveled further south, emphasizing the flames and heat between them. He leaned in to press his lips against the shell of Dick's ear at the same time a strangled gasp forced its way from the shorter man's throat, “That's my boy"

____________________________________________________________________________________

Ronan counted to 20 minutes the moment Deathstroke left them alone in his office. The man’s pupil had been blown wide and he could only imagine a heaving, raving animal beneath his one-eyed mask; his nostrils flaring as he stared down Renegade further down the hallway. At 21, Ronan stopped counting. No one could hear anything and they knew from experience that Renegade was not likely to come back anytime soon.

“Uhhhh, what's in the bag?” Jacks asked, his voice overly loud in the quiet office.

Kris and Ronan glanced at it but Kris snapped, “How should we know? We were all together. I didn't even know he had that until now”

Ronan nodded but stepped forward nonetheless. Kris and Jacks followed her after a moment, “The Colonel seemed freaking happy” Jacks added. Ronan nodded as well.

“Do you think Ren will be okay?”

“Wildcat, there is nothing we know that you don't” she snapped as she started down the small bloody bag, “We don't know why Deathstroke was pleased Ren disobeyed him, or where they went, or why they both left; we really do not know what he did up there with the target”

“He was an Owl” Ronan muttered. The other 2 looked at him as it clicked into place. The only plausible reason why Renegade would be so obsessively driven about a single person mere moments after discovering their location. Jacks poked the bag slightly, feeling a soft lump inside. He cringed slightly and looked at the others, “Ren said that he wouldn't stop crying” he trailed off, "It's skin..."

Kris inhaled sharply and snatched up the bag. She thumbed the blood to one side as best she could so the pale flaps of skin inside were more visible in the bottom corner, “It’s his tear ducts” she said somewhat numbly.

Ronan looked at the bag in her hand and then at the door where both master and apprentice had exited. Was Deathstroke enthusiastically pleased with his heir over the fact that he’d taken the initiative and acted cruelly towards someone? That his young weapon had gone out of his way to torture someone and act disrespectfully in the face of Batman’s moral code.

What exactly was Deathstroke's vision for Renegade?

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason had been staring at his cracked ceiling well past night and into the morning. The replacement and the demon brat had gone home with the old man and stayed there; although Tim had promised to reach out as soon as Bruce returned from his meeting with the League. Jason has left them all without even bothering to unpack. He’d taken his bike from the Batcave and gotten the hell out of there. The moment they’d landed, Jason hadn't seemed to be able to clear his head. He couldn't stop thinking of Dick’s back arching off the medical table as Slade stabbed him in the chest with that enormous needle. He couldn't stop clenching his fists over how Dick seemed to step closer to Slade, or allow his new teammates to bump shoulders with him. If he pictured the way Dick had followed Wilson out of that cave for too long he knew he’d see more green than anything. The way he’d glanced back with such a stone-cold fervor in his eyes- Jason shut his eyes and rubbed his face with enough aggression to leave red marks.

Jason still couldn't fathom how Bruce thought…at all. One minute the man was determined to get Dick back to the point of taking him against his will, and by the time they’d gotten Wilson’s temporary partnership to reveal Light missions and information, he’d been determined to win Dick back the softer way? Who the fuck had replaced the old man? Bruce's version of 'meeting in the middle' and compromising was hearing someone explain their intentions before reinforcing his iron will over theirs.

Jason wasn't sure if he was witnessing a conflict within Batman but it was frustrating to say in the least. One minute he was respecting Dick's supposed wishes, and the next, he couldn't care less as long his kid was separated from Deathstroke the Terminator. Jason wanted to knock some sense into Bruce nearly bad enough that he’d risk speaking with the egotistic ass asshole. Whatever his chosen method to ‘saving’ Dick was, he couldn't flip flop or else Dick would become more resistant to them, less trustworthy of their pleas and promises if they changed every time they saw each other again. Then, the only way Dick would come home would be in chains or a body bag. He’d gotten a call from one of his men, informing him that the cameras surrounding their 3rd warehouse by the docks were going haywire. At first, the men had written it off as a tech malfunction, but when it continued they decided to let Hood know. Redhood had reviewed the footage as best he could but he saw the same thing his confused men had. The cameras kept turning and rotating, zeroing in on certain places and corners that appeared to have no one in sight. Jason knew better. There was someone there and the cameras were just barely catching the ghost of their movement, or a slip of their hair; the technology's movement to pinpoint the person was slow, but the cameras weren't wrong. Jason was concerned it was either his stalker, from before, or one of Black Mask’s men sent to cause an issue for him after their sabotaged drug trade-off. Jason knew his stalker could either be Black Mask or someone from the Court but if he started to consider every possibility as a serious one, he’d drive himself to the point of being Bruce’s level of paranoid. All of Bruce’s children could agree that Bruce was at the edge of acceptable distrust of reality. He was paranoid. 

His phone rang and he slapped his hand over it with a groan. He answered it without looking, “Look, I fucking told you I’ll look into-”

“Jason, it’s me,” Tim said seriously.

Jason did his best not to crack the phone in his grip. He waited. They both did. For almost a whole minute; in silence, “Tim, I swear to god if you don't tell m-”

“Check the link I sent you”

“What?”

“Just do it” Tim’s voice ended harsher than Jason had heard him lately. Jason put the phone on speaker and opened his texts. He didn't see anything from Tim at first before his gut fell through his bed as he realized it had been sent to Hood. He pulled his other phone from his desk drawer beside his bed and opened it to see a message from RedRobin. It was a simple link and opened to a simple list. A familiar, but simple list. 

He furrowed his brow and sat up, hating the utter confusion that gripped him, “Tim..?”

“Just read the list, Jason,” Tim said.

Jason focused on the blacklist before him. He was extremely familiar with the top 100-200 names from his first few years as Redhood. He’d gotten it into his head that he could get his anti-hero career and footing off to a good start by turning in some of the top metas listed on the list. There were always a few that were never a good idea; like Deathstroke the Terminator and some of Ra’s Al Ghul’s best assassins. Jason was so familiar with the list he knew right away that something wasn't right. He tried skimming the list, noting that number 50 wasn’t right. 50 was Sportsmaster. According to the list Tim had sent him, Sportsmaster was 51. Jason scrolled to the top to work his way down but stopped as he read number 1 on the list: Nightwing.

Jason couldn't breathe for a second, but forced himself to click on his brother’s name and his blacklisted meta bio opened up.

 

Nightwing

 

Age: 24

Distinctive appearance: Dark hair, blue eyes, Eastern European

Associated company: Deathstroke the Terminator

Last seen: Egypt

Wanted: Destruction of property, homicide, thievery, kidnapping, transporting or unapproved weaponry and ammunition, conspiracy to commit…

Confirmed Locations: North America, East Asia, Western Europe...

 

“What the f….” Jason couldn't believe his eyes. Only first-world countries and their government controlled the updates and removals of this list. That and- Jason stopped as he realized that this might be the conclusion to the League meeting Tim said he’d call about. 

“Bruce said he didn't want to, Jason. I swear. He fought them, and Clark did too. But it was an 8 to 7 vote in favor of listing Dick until he was caught and brought in for official questioning. Bruce made them list him as Nighting so that Dick’s entire identity isn't screwed over forever”

Jason couldn't fight the feeling of incredulity that overwhelmed him. A dizzying other-worldly sensation settled in his body and he laughed before he realized it.

“Jason?” Tim asked hesitantly.

Jason smiled and ran a hand through his hair. He waved Tim off like he was really there, “It’s nothing” he dismissed Tim’s concern, “Just getting used to the fact that I’ll never get Dick back now”

“Jaso-” Jason hung up and stared at the phone. The screen was smudged and slightly cracked so his reflection started back with wide glistening eyes. A torn smile of amazement reflected back to him. “Damn,” he muttered out loud. All that work for nothing.

He'd followed Dick's ass around for 2 years and then shacked back upon with Bruce within the last half year to track him in person, and now Bruce and every other shit-faced cape wearer thought they had the obligation to judge Dick and determine his place among Villians and heroes...just like that. Dick would find out soon-and if he didn't-Wilson would make sure it was brought to their attention. he'd make sure that Goldenboy thought he had no life or role to come back to among their community of crime fighters. As sudden and vicious as coming back from the pit can be, his anger exploded. A hot, painful, vibration that shot through his limbs and stole control of his emotions. He scrambled to his feet and launched the phone at the nearest wall. It shattered lamely and fell to the floor in a few plastic pieces; the small motherboard barely visible. He stared at it as he fought to control his heaving breathing, he was too hot, too bothered, too helpless. The room was too quiet, his apartment was too peaceful for what his new reality reflected. 

“FUCK!” Jason roared.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Rose held her breath as she heard another pair of footsteps approach before fading past the room. The moment she felt confident they were walking away, she turned her attention back to the makeshift radio system that was set up before her. She’s only been there about 2 days but it was long enough to realize that the sheer manpower was too much for her. While she wasn't desperate for more similarities between her and her father, sometimes she despised the gene pool for giving her his strange platinum hair and none of his strength. She knew her father would be alerted to her disappearance one way or another, but when his contracts were known to last 2 days or 2 months, she wasn't risking it. She knew Dick was most likely with him, meaning that if one was unavailable then so was the other.

She bit her lip as new, quicker footsteps approached her hiding spot. She hadn't spoken to Jason and Tim in at least 2 years, maybe more, but she trusted their sos system the most. All her other contacts were either unreliable or had too many intricate contact systems to reach out to with a quick 911. She focused on her task as she sparked the 2 black wires together, forcing a connection without the manual key code; Tim and Jason would have to be her backup for now.

Chapter 15

Notes:

Hey there! Here's another ch. let me know what you think. Rose might become more consistent later on.

 

 

Rose heaved a painful breath as she straightened against the wall she’d been thrown at. Her captors certainly weren't the nicest by any means, but she’d had worse. Kai had mentioned to her that Ahn Gao was sniffing around her mother’s village, trying to get a sense of whether or not he would be successful if he propositioned sales to rural villagers who had little else going for them. She knew she shouldn't have gone alone, but her temper had gotten the better of her; again. She’d confronted the man he'd sent and sent them back black and bloody for trying to sell to elderly women, uneducated mothers, and preteen boys. She may not have a strict moral code like Dick and his brothers, but she refused to allow drugs into her family's presence. She rolled her neck, hearing one too many pops. Dad is gonna kill me, she thought, especially once he hears Gao’s name.

She’d barely been home for a month when Kai had told her who had approached him. A week later, she found herself being confronted and given a beat down for being the only female with balls to stand up to drug runners. It wasn't until Gao had seen her white hair that he demanded to know her name. It had taken a handful of threats before he heard the name Wilson and his face evolved into something maliciously delightful. By her count, she’d been a prisoner for about 5 days, which was enough time for her father and Dick to catch wind of her disappearance. For once in her life, she was glad that her old man forced his kids to digitally check in with him. In return, his children were afforded the option of ignoring their father for however long they wanted. For such a threatening and overbearingly dangerous man, he was severely stuck at the beck and call of his remaining children; something that managed to warm her heart every time she really considered the notion and its implications of his lethality. She pushed back her matted hair, hoping it wasn't too clotted with dirt and blood to brush through later. She was raised by a boy dad, by all means, but her mother’s sisters had fawned over her startling white hair as a child, insisting she and her looks were a gift from the Gods and should be worshipped, not shunned. She was grateful because, in all honesty, she might've dyed her hair early on if only to not be the only child who looked like their father. Grant had brown, auburn hair and Joey got off lucky with simple blonde curls from before their dad's experiment. She was stuck looking like a cosplayer due to her tanned complexion, turned-down almond eyes, and effervescent long white hair. 

She licked her lip and cringed at the tenderness and the coppery taste. She had managed to escape the previous morning and make it to their shabby radio station. It wasn't much, but the pathetic base of operations was most likely untracked so she sent as many SOSs as she could before they found and reintroduced her to their meanest guys. She knew that calling everyone and anyone wasn't a good idea, but knowing that her captor was aware he had a second chance to end the lineage of Deathstroke the Terminator meant that her ego and resistance to pleading for help were waning quickly. She’d messaged the Teen Titans Comms line that Dick had given her and hoped that Tim or Jason still had access to it for at least one of them to see the alert. She knew that Dick wouldn't, especially after hearing how he had fully shacked up with her father and Wintergreen; leaving his brothers and father behind in Gotham. Still, she hoped that Dick and her dad would be able to come to her aid soon; especially before Joey got dragged into this.

“The bitch in there?” one of the men asked in Vietnamese. She scowled as another turned and gleaned back at her, sneering when they made eye contact, “Yeah. We caught her before she could do any harm though. She claims she wasn't able to send out a message, so the whore’s screwed”

The 2 men chuckled and turned away. One man lit a cigar and leaned back, “Are we selling her or what?”

The other man shrugged, “I don't know”

The first man was persistent, “Then why the fuck are we keeping her? She’s just some village slut with a loudmouth…unless the boss wants her” he leered jokingly. The other man rolled his eyes, “I don't fucking know. Shut it. He’ll tell us what to do with her and when. I don't get paid enough to worry after the why’s”

Rose narrowed her eyes, unsure how to feel about the fact that Gao was keeping some of his men in the dark, “The bitch can hear you” she snapped back. 

They quieted for a moment and Rose feared she’d gone too far. She had little else to her name besides her father’s healing abilities and her father’s reputation backing her fearless actions. It was why she was so adamant that her father let Dick train her when they saw each other. It was the first person she could ever remember genuinely catching her father’s eye that wasn't her stepmother. Even her mother couldn't claim the same as she was merely the prettiest prostitute who had earned her pay that night, 19 years ago. She didn't hold it against him as it was her mother’s choice of work long before they’d met and paying a woman for sex was hardly the worst thing he'd ever accomplished. But seeing the way Dick acted, without care or concern, for Slade's opinion motivated her in a new way. If anything, he usually acted out in ways that angered or disrupted her father’s line of work. To see him, usually so quick to anger, do nothing but stare so blatantly at Nightwing, told her all she needed to know about him and how he'd accidentally earned the infatuation of the world's most skilled contract killer. She knew that she was being guarded by grunts, the lowest on the totem pole of power, but still. She had little to no information about how and what she would be facing. I’m probably bait for Dad, she thought darkly. She tried to scoot herself to the corner, wincing at every ache and strain the movements of her torso and wrists reintroduced. She leaned back and stretched out her legs, determined not to let her body fail her from weakness or sleep deprivation. She wasn't as capable as her father, genetically speaking, but her father had made sure she could withstand much more than the average 19-year-old. She just had to wait. Her father was a when not an if. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Where is she right now?” Dick asked coldly. The question was directed at the room but Wintergreen answered from where he was reviewing everything Slade discarded, “Still in Vietnam, apparently”

“How sure are we?” Dick demanded.

Renegade’s team stood still and at the ready against the back wall of the Colonel’s office. They’d been summoned by Renegade after not seeing him for almost an entire week. They’d bounced around the idea of seeking him or the Colonel out, under the guise of concern and wellbeing, but all 3 of them knew neither would follow through. The safest place, the most coveted palace for Renegade, would always be within the Colonel's reach. Renegade had made himself known again early that morning by slamming their quarters open and ordering them all dressed and ready to report within 10. 2 hours later, and without very much action, they found themselves trying to piece together what was happening. There had been mention of a Rose that Major Wintergreen, the Colonel, and Renegade all seemed very familiar with, but it was hard to determine if she was a good or bad sign as all 3 men appeared on edge. The mannerisms mirrored each other in their stiff postures, flared nostrils, and thinned lips. “How long has she been missing?” The Colonel finally asked. Most of the information and issuances had been delivered by the Major and most of the demanding questions had been delivered by Renegade. It was quite rare to see the Colonel take a back seat position amongst any group of men, but then again, the Colonel always held Renagde and his faithful Major in vastly different regards than the rest of the population. It went beyond special treatment. They held more value, worth, and deserved respect on a level that no one person could prove to Deathstroke; not even if he allowed them the opportunity. 

“It’s hard to say” Wintergreen answered as he ran a hand over his curled mustache, “Her reputation is consistent with inconsistencies, much like yourself” he offered a strangely pointed look to his superior, “So she might’ve been missing a few days or much longer, and no one noticed until now”

“We did,” Dick said, “She has to be in contact with others more than us. At least for them to notice a definitive disappearance date”

Wintergreen tipped his head, “None that I can confirm yet. Her HIVE contacts have proven unreliable, and we were only tipped off because she didn't report to her monthly check-in”

The Colonel huffed a small, humorless laugh behind his mask at the mention of the monthly check-in. Dick ignored him, “But we’re sure he has her?”

Wintergreen nodded, “All satellite images we’ve managed to catch of the area confirm that she's been pictured at his compound within the last 48 hours; in handcuffs” he added.

“And you’re sure she didn't check in? I can double-check with Joey, maybe he’s heard from her if no one else has?”

“Leave Joey out of this” Slade said without a hint of expression, “He’s less of a fighter than even Rose”

Dick bit his bottom lip between his teeth, deep in thought, “I’ll take my team and get her home by tomorrow”

Jacks and Kris shared a look, So she was someone they wanted to protect....

Slade scoffed, “Kid, the flight is at least 7 hours long”

Dick scowled, “It’ll be longer the more you make me wait. I’m not waiting, Slade”

Kris and Ronan shared a look. Slade narrowed his eye and glanced behind Dick to his statuesque team, feeling their stares and curiosity, "We’ll leave within the next 3 hours” He cut Dick off just as he parted his lips, “You aren't going alone”

Dick scowled by turning to his team, “Prep for flight” he ordered them; his tone switching flawlessly. Renegade’s team stated at Dick but felt the Colonel’s and Major’s eyes on them, “Bring resources for at least 2 weeks. I know you heard we’re headed to Vietnam. This is a search and rescue mission, but there is no limit on casualties; only 1 expectation to bring back 1 person” he made clear. They nodded and Dick turned away. He stepped up to Slade’s side, “Why would an East Asian human trafficker want anything with Rose, Slade? She’s too good to be kidnapped by a bunch of lowlifes”

Slade didn't answer for a minute and Dick quickly lost his patience, “Wintergreen?” he demanded.

The older man sighed, “I’m not about to play games between you 2, my boy. This is entirely Slade’s story to tell”

Dick frowned uncertainly, “So you do know Ahn Gao?”

Slade nodded as he stared at the report in his hand without actually reading it, “Slade” Dick snapped impatiently. He turned to his team with a domineering, forceful look, “Dismissed” he barked. He turned back to Slade, trusting his team’s training to fall in line.

“Gao wasn't always exclusive to Vietnam,” Slade said lowly. He looked at Dick with an unreadable expression, “He fled after he took nearly everything from me”

Dick cocked his head in question, “What?” Slade placed the paper down and turned to face him fully, “Haven't you ever wondered who I enraged enough to go after me? My children; even my wife?”

Dick blinked in astonishment, “I” he licked his lips, “I guess I never really got the name of the guy from Joey or Rose, but I figured it was pointless because he was dead; I didn't want to edge anything up just for the sake of knowing. I mean I know what happened and it was awful Slade; I know that, but…you killed him…right?”

Slade didn't answer and Dick felt a tense stillness settle into his bones. He couldn't believe the man who slashed Joey’s throat, blew up Rose’s elementary school, and killed Grant was still alive. Slade Wilson let his son’s murderer live, “Why-”

Slade cut him off, “Go prepare with your team, Renegade”

Dick was speechless as Slade dismissed him, “Slade-”

“Renagde” Slade returend evenly.

Dick bristled but held his tone steady, “Master-”

“Renegade” Slade’s tone did not return the same forced pleasantry. Dick looked to Wintergreen but he wasn't sure if it was for support and guidance, or the information Slade was clearly not supplying. He knew that Wintergreen had the detailed version of every story Slade eventually told Dick about his youth and time in the military; even special ops, but Slade had made it clear how much he disliked Dick’s favored tactic of going straight to the British man for the facts. He didn't know how to react. The riskiness of the kidnapping Rose had found herself in was suddenly egregiousness worse now that it was a man who had failed to kill her and her father in the past. Not only that, but Dick was utterly shocked to know the man was alive. He knew Slade better than his own tastebuds sometimes, so if Gao was alive, then that meant Slade had let him live.

Dick knew better than to pester the man, especially about this. He nodded his head, determined to play the long game and find out what happened. He knew that his answers and questions were niggling and persistent, but Rose and her current safety were the absolute priority at the moment. He nodded grudgingly and left the room, “I’ll report to jet 6 in 1 hour”, he left before Slade could demand the usual term of respect.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick found himself leaning against the jet runway doors 55 minutes later with an enormous chip on his shoulder. Kris, Ronan, and Jacks had the sense to steer clear of him after witnessing the first part of his conversation with Slade but a part of home was bothered over how they eyed him after these moments with Slade. It was inevitable that his private contracting team would be privy to certain moments of baren openness between him and his Master; even Wintergreen sometimes. But after… they always looked at him differently. Like he was actually someone else that required a different level of kindness or respect or fear. He’d tried confronting Kris about it the first few times he noticed it, concerned that it would affect the budding relationship that he’d been able to foster between their small team. She’d been diplomatic; hesitant to reveal her true feelings to someone so close to the Colonel. Dick had been hurt to say in the least, unsure how to demand her honesty for something sentimental and unprofessional without it coming across as a direct order. He hadn't had the chance to resolve the issue how he truly desired, and the following month, woke to find that he’d lost control and killed all the bystander soldiers in the cafeteria. Slade had apparently held him down in the showers until his body lost the energy to sustain its panic attack. 

They looked at him differently then too, but the frustration and spite that welled up in response was too great to overcome the hurdle of wanting new friends in a new place. He’d never broached the subject again, instead re-cementing the relationship that power held between all 4 of them. Slade seemed to approve but Dick could only seem to appreciate the lack of effort this new relationship took. Even his old teammates required more emotional attention than these ones. It offered him a strange perspective to have people waiting and hand and foot over him because of his power and position. If he wanted them to act like friends, they’d plaster large smiles and grins across their faces. If he wanted soldiers, they’d stand at the ready all day. Dick was hard willing to admit that it gave him a cruel sense of pleasure to be able to command things be accomplished without any strings attached of guilt. His men knew what they were signing on for from the beginning. It wasn't like he was staring down Wally, who now hated him, for not being the same hyperactive ADHD Robin as when they were 9. Wally had preconceived notions of him, Wally had expectations of their friendship, Wally would talk back if disrespected too severely. his fake friends didn't; wouldn't. 

Slade’s familiar footsteps pulled him back to reality. He looked up as Salde and Wintergeen approached, “Wintergeen’s coming?” Dick asked. Slade nodded and stepped past Dick. Wintergreen offered him a small smile and patted Dick on the shoulder, “Bit of a family matter, don't you think, my boy?”

Dick smiled warmly at the older man. He followed the pair inside to find Kris, Ronan, and Jacks completing all of the pre-flight checklist obligations. Wintergreen would most likely take care of the majority of that after too. He always liked to say that Slade’s egotistical antics and Dick’s everywhere-ness ran Will grey and white faster than any man, but then again, he was usually the first one to be found piloting on certain missions or acting as support. Dick had made one too many retirement jokes before the man had smiled and slapped over the back of the head; ending those quips. He could feel the glances being sent his way but ignored it until Jacks piped up, “Sir?”

Dick cut him off, “If you’re done with your duties, you can take a seat Wildcat,” he said. He took a seat across from Slade at the front of the plane, ending any opportunity Jacks or the others could take to speak further about their mission. Dick didn't have the headspace to accommodate them at the moment. Rose was in danger and he needed to know more, needed to plan more; but knew he was limited as Slade would only reveal so much with 3 strangers surrounding them. He almost wanted to dismiss them completely; so he could wring the answers he wanted out of Slade. He didn't care if they would be better help on the mission, this was Rose. She may not be his biological sister or daughter but neither were Jay, Tim, or Dami. Dick knew he was far past the point of proving to Slade that he was a threat to Rose or Joey. In the early years, Slade had tried his best not to let them meet out of fear of Dick ostracizing him from his remaining children. Dick has done the opposite; accidentally. He’d brought them closer, more so out of fear of seeing another family unnecessarily torn apart. Dick knew that Slade had tried to show his thanks in small gestures following that. He allowed Dick more leeway in their fights and often let the boy lead their violent dances whenever they crossed paths. Dick couldn't imagine the petite almond-eyed white-haired angel ever getting hurt; especially on his watch. He’d said so to Slade but the man was too preoccupied to even brush him off or laugh at his aggressive confidence. Dick knew he was right though. He’d get Rose out no matter what. Just like his brothers, he’d do anything to make sure that sweet girl was safe and sound, able to live a happy and fulfilled life; unimpeded. 

The last time he’d seen her was at her mother’s village, surrounded by her aunts and distant cousins for her 19th birthday. With her father’s financing, she traveled nearly everywhere with the only requirement being that she checked in over a secure line once a month. Slade didn't even make her reach out to her personally, but he did prefer that she check in with Joey periodically. He was also interested to find out what nonsense she'd been up to, to warrant such negative attention from her brother’s killer. He knew it wasn't proper to ever blame the victim, but Slade’s only daughter had a knack for getting into trouble that put even his Robin days to shame. Slade slid a packet across the small table to Dick. Dick offered a raised eyebrow, instantly disliking the fact that Slade had an entire bio prepared for Gao. He’d heard plenty about the Vietnamese scumbag, from run-ins with Black Mask and Maroni in Gotham, but had never faced him personally. He was honestly stunned at himself for not making sure he knew these details about them. He may have started out as a strange teacher and guiding hand for Joey and Rose, but knew they’d grown to be much more in the past 5 to 10 years. 

Hurt echoed in his chest and he accepted the packet, determined to change that barrier between Slade and his kids, and himself. It felt like he was just learning the date of a close friend’s birthday. In the end, it was their responsibility to share a personal fact, but Dick’s lack of proactiveness to find out beforehand highlighted his lack of concern that Dick didn't like one bit. He opened the first few pages, instantly recognizing the mug shot of the man who had become their target within 1 day.  He had round cheeks and overly large eyes. Dick mused that they looked slightly offset and that it might be due to his mother using while she was pregnant. Just like moi, he thought darkly. Gao was 52 years old and had no living relatives, anymore. Dick chanced a glance at Slade as he read that line. Somehow the man had migrated from the East Coast to Vietnam, about 13 years ago, days after his wife, kids, and distant relatives were all slain in reportedly, unrelated accidents. Some were car crashes, some were muggings gone wrong; some were even allergic reactions to things that the victims weren't even aware of until it was too late. 9 different people, all dead in 4 days. Dick’s past or present feelings aside, even he could admit it was impressive. Anyone could kill, but to coordinate such a complicated piece so technically, so cleanly….Dick shook himself from his musings.

He read further along about all his places of residence and his legal and nonlegal forms of income. Even down to his percentage of dying from heart failure and skin cancer because of a few doctor’s notes from his mother’s side more than 30 years ago. Dick clenched the folder as he read on. He quickly came across the notes that Wintergreen had obviously added. Commentary about Rose’s usual habits and behaviors. Her favorite places in town and which cousins she brought along when visiting her mother’s family. He remembered them well, as Slade seemed to be the only one unable to earn the various aunts’ affections. They treated Rose like the white-haired angel she was. A spirited soul that needed nothing but guidance. Dick wasn't too sure about their methods of letting her off every time she acted out or too rashly, but he understood their sentiments all the same. Their oldest sister and her daughter had disappeared, died, only to find a white-haired demon years later, and the niece they thought they’d lost.

He set the file down once he came to the end, briefly scanning the satellite images of Rose being manhandled in handcuffs. She had her father’s healing but his strength and bulkiness hadn't quite gotten through to her or Joey, only Grant seemed to have received the largeness that Slade Wilson was. He looked up pointedly at Slade. The man was scrolling on his own laptop, pointedly ignoring Dick in return. He started tapping his fingers incessantly and frowned when the man merely continued to click and scroll. Dick heaved a sigh, expecting Slade to snap at him for his childish behavior any moment. They continued like this for a few minutes until Dick gave up. He glowered at the other man for his determination not to share anything further with Dick. It was blatantly clear, transparently obvious that Slade had let Gao live and he wasn't sure why. Slade knew Dick wanted to know and was purposefully not informing him. It not only made Dick want to know more, but it festered hurt inside him. For all that he ignored the comments about him and Slade or his connection to his master, that others sought after, Dick knew he and Slade read each other like see-through books. He wasn't so blind to his own emotions as to deny the fact that he was angry and hurt that Slade wasn't being honest and truthful with him. Slade never opened up to anyone, but him. It was like pulling teeth, but Dick had diamond-incrusted pliers and never backed down. Only this time, Slade wasn't budging and Dick was too fretful with worry and frustration to prioritize being concerned. 

He growled under his breath and shoved away from the chair. He’d planned on stomping away, somewhere in their small compact plane that wouldn't force him into the company of his teammates, nor Wintergreen, while offering him space from his frustrating mentor. Slade Wilson, the Deathstroke the Terminator was known as a God among men because of his inability to be killed. It was rare enough to hurt him, most never dreamed about killing him. At best, you could escape the man and hope he didn't find you again. So why had Slade let a single man live after eliminating all of his family, especially the single man responsible for his divorce and dead child? If you really wanted to, Slade could claim that Gao owed him an eye as well. He spotted his teammates seated quietly in the back and turned in the opposite direction, not in the mood to play leader and friend at the same time. Grudgingly, he found himself at the front of the plane. He did his best to stay quiet and meek, not striving to invoke a conversation with Wintergreen. Unfortunately, the old man, much like Alfred, had heightened senses from looking after and abetting someone of Slade’s caliber. Dick used to despise the similarities between Wintergreen and Alfred. Nowadays, it gave his heart an aching sensation. Wintergreen cast him a small knowing smile the moment Dick was within reaching distance of the flight cabin. Wintergreen always claimed to want to be left out of the plans and drama but then he’d always insist on coming. Dick had tied to imply that the older man would like reality tv and soap operas, due to his need to insist from drama and then always find himself playing mitigator, but that had earned him a sore scalp.

“I’d hate to ruin any plans of yours to sulk, Richard, but I cannot offer any alternative resources on Gao”

Dick frowned and kicked the toe of his boot, “I’m not sulking” he muttered. Dick only lasted a few breaths before he threw himself down into the copilot’s seat, “I just don't get it WIntergreen”

The man offered him an arched brow as if to encourage the younger man to actually explain himself, “This is Slade. Slade the Fucking Terminator. The only way Gao is alive must be because Slade let him live. Slade doesn't make mistakes and he certainly doesn't fail, so how can Grant’s killer be alive?” Wintergreen scoffed and muttered, “What that bastard wouldn't give to have that on recording” Dick continued as if he hadn't heard, “This guy ruined Slade’s marriage and almost killed his family…he killed his son Wintergreen! Why did Slade let him live?”

Wintergreen checked the autopilot’s configuration before turning to Dick, “You’re certain that this man could only be alive if Slade permitted his existence to continue?”

Dick frowned but nodded uncertainly, “Uhh-yea? Especially when it’s a guy that caused all this” Dick waved his arms around them.

Wintergreen smiled demurely, “You’re viewpoints of him are rather opposing then aren't they?” Dick parted his lips to question the man but he continued, “Slade is too much a brute, a strong man, to have allowed this deficit, this atrocity committed against himself and his family to be left unpunished. But” The man emphasized slowly, “He is also too much in control of himself and his own surroundings have allowed the man to continue living by accident? There is no way Slade might have failed in eliminating him?” Dick watched Wintergreen cautiously. The man smiled acutely, “Which is it, my boy? Is he a failed monster or is he purposefully merciful?”

Richard frowned, understanding, but not liking the new format in which the British man had laid out the scenario for him, “I-I really don’t get it, Will” Dick admitted with a downturn to his brow, “Slade told me himself how she shot out his eye. Joey said that Addie called Slade a monster and tried her best to never let Slade see the kids. She still doesn't unless they vouch that I’m around, or do it behind her back. I-” he ran a hand through his hair, deep in thought, “Did he promise leniency? Mercy?”

Wintergreen shook his head, “Some things are more personal than even those around that person, Richard. I’m afraid this reasoning, and the situation we’ve found ourselves in is considerably due to Slade’s enigma of a character. There is no one big secret or blackmail plot that you have not been informed of-”

“Bullshit” Dick argued, “Sorry” he amended. Wintergreen glared playfully as if he knew the curse wasn't directed at him, but more so at his words. Dick glared at his hands as he rubbed his knuckles, “Slade always has a single reason. A clear concise strategy and goal. Even if there are multiple factors involved; he always has a clear concise endgame, Wintergreen. He’s never uncertain or ambiguous unless it’s to throw off others. Slade knows what he wants”

Wintergreen’s smile slowly faded amidst Dick’s tirade, “How pleased he should be to know that you really are his mirror”

Dick blinked, “What?” thinking he misheard. Wintergreen waved him off, “An old man's ramblings, dear child. Please consider my words though. I cannot, nor can Slade’s children help you truly understand the strange mercy an unmerciful man granted to Gao”

Wintergreen sighed as a few lights turned on across the pilot’s control panel. He gave Dick a reassuring look, “Don't fret too much over this, my boy. Knowing less about Slade, doesn't diminish the regard he holds you in”

Dick’s ears burned, “I’m not fucking insecure” he muttered under his breath.

“I know I don't usually tolerate foul language, but Slade is a right bastard most days because of that weak ego of his. He would rather be torn limb from limb than reveal any vulnerable parts of himself that don't offer him any additional benefit or greater advantage” Wintergreen explained as his attention was slowly pulled further and further away by another beep on the screen before him, “Do try and focus on yourself, my boy. You have enough unneeded stress plaguing you these days”

Dick looked away as Wintergreen patted his shoulder comfortingly. He sighed and gave up, understanding that Will was trying to empathize with him while shooing him away. He could understand that after seeing so much of Slade, for so many years, it would be hard to to care about certain things anymore. Thinking about Wintergreen and Slade over the years often comforted Dick, knowing that despite everything Slade had proven himself worthy of care from a man as nice and valid as William Wintergreen. Wintergreen must have seen all sorts of changes in Slade over the years, especially when he convinced Addie to marry him, Dick mused. Dick looked back to Slade where he sat in the first 2 rows. The man appeared focused on the screen in front of him but Dick knew that if he were to throw his sheathed knife, the man would catch it without even looking up. Dick’s fingers itched to follow through with the intrusive thought, but he clenched his fists instead.

He paced back to the man, realizing that he was unable to focus on little else. He aggressively took the seat beside Slade intending on giving the older man his unfiltered thoughts when he stopped, focusing on what Slade had been reading this entire time. It wasn't Wintergreen’s report on Gao, it wasn’t satellite images of Rose. It wasn't even confirmation of Joey’s safety back in the States. It was a poorly scanned family Christmas card of the Wilson family. A small cartoon Christmas tree was smiling in the corner of the boarder, like it was 1 of 4 options offered at the Walgreens print-out corner that season. Slade stood tall and proud. His wavy blonde hair, nearly white, was curled just under his ears without the pounds of gel he now used. He wore a clean-pressed white button-up that revealed his forearms. On his shoulder sat a young boy with pin-straight brown hair. It was styled into a boyish mohawk and his grin was larger than life; the kind that hurts your cheeks from too much forceful pressure. Beside a two-eyed Slade stood Adeline Kane in a formal green dress with white frills. Her smile was small but meaningful. Her long straight brown hair fell to nearly her hip where a short curly-haired blonde boy stood, grinning shyly, his neck devoid of any marring. His head was ducked and his shoulders were curved inward, seeking his mother’s hip more securely. He held her hand and tried his best to look at the camera. Between Slade and Adeline, stood little white-haired Rose. She was the shortest and seemed to want to fight it. Standing on the toes of her white dress shoes with all her might. Her hair was braided and pulled back; Dick could see the tops of a green and red bow popping out behind the back of her head.

Dick caught himself when Slade shifted slightly and realized he wasn't sure how long he’d been staring, “I thought the experiment turned you white, old man” Dick joked. The corners of Slade’s lip fought to curl up slightly, “It was a slow process” he replied lowly, “Easy to dismiss as greying early, luckily”

They both fell silent for a minute, appreciating the image of happiness, they both knew would never exist again, “She was the strangest oddity” Slade said, “Adeline was the most feared drill instructor in my unit; drew my attention right away”

Dick scoffed jokingly, “You just saw her attitude as another challenge”

Slade nodded, “I did,” he said almost proudly, “She never dropped her standards, never settled for less; but she allowed the strangest things….forgave the most unexpected things. She didn't bat an eye when I brought Rose home as a baby. She knew right away that I'd had an affair” Slade’s gaze dragged over to his ex-wife's form in the picture, “If I wasn't holding Rose, she would've clocked me, without a doubt”

Dick chuckled in his throat, “Coward”

“I was convinced our marriage would be over, but Rose’s mother had just been killed in a shoot out and many women of the night were unfortunate casualties. She had nowhere else to go. Addie kicked me out for a few weeks, just long enough to scare me and have the kids asking after me. After that, I was left sleeping on the couch for an entire year before I was allowed back into our bed”

“She loves her like her own” Dick replied, unsure if he was comforting Slade or stating fact. Slade nodded, “She always will. Addie was registered as her legal guardian within the month and Rose has never known another mother; not until she was old enough to ask after her birth mother and I took her home. Addie didn't like that idea, but she knows Rose sees her as her genuine mother, and always will”

Dick looks from Slade back to the scanned image. There were strange shadows and crumpled crease lines in the picture’s edges that implied it had been put through a crappy photocopier, “Slade? What really happened that night?”

Slade didn't look at Dick but he did take a deep breath and roll his shoulders back. Dick could basically see the wall being built between them, “You know the story kid. I know you heard it from everyone but Grant”

“And you,” Dick said.

Slade’s jaw twitched, “She hated me. Hates me” he replied, “She cursed a lot, but Addie always did when the kids weren't around. I think what I remember most vividly is when she called me a monster; told me I was worse than a lowlife because at least thugs and assholes were flawed humans” Dick thought Slade was done for a while and almost spoke, “It was when I tried reaching for her that she shot my eye out; with my own gun. Someone stole her first child from her and I was the closest thing she could lash out at.” Slade offered Dick a calm, thoughtful glance, “I may despise Wayne, but I could never fault him for wanting you back within arms reach…something about your first kid truly hits home; they are what makes you a parent”

Slade's tone was casual but his words spoke of emotions that the US Government his own trauma had beat out of him, slowly widdled away at until the only thing left in his heart was the super solder serum.

“You let Gao live all these years to prove her wrong” Dick spoke quietly, but it wasn't a question. He looked at Slade’s profile more closely, “You wanted her to know you could restrain yourself from acting how she expected you to against your child’s killer?”

Slade shrugged and eased back into his white leather seat, “What can I tell ya, kid….I was a different man then” he looked at Dick more seriously, “I wasn't lying all those times I told you that you’d agree with me when you were older. Time changes you. Warps and molds you….”

“I know,” Dick said, he looked away, “You never lie to me”

For the first time, Slade’s eye set its sights on Dick and a strange kind of focus seemed to envelop his pupils. Dick smirked back, strangely prideful to have silenced the older man, “Do they know? Your family?”

Slade scoffed and that look flickered and faded quickly, “We’re hardly a family, kid”

Dick scowled, “Thinking like that is what almost kept Rose and Joey away permanently. My parents are gone forever but that doesn't mean we aren't a family. They are my family, Slade. They just aren't around”

Slade looked like he was deciding not to chuckle, "Conjugation doesn't change reality, kid"

Dick scowled, "You're right, it doesn't," he said back.

Slade didn't reply and Dick wasn't sure if it was because the man agreed or if he was deep in thought, “You should tell them. I know you see how desperate Rose is for a better connection with you. Joey wants one too, he’s just older-more hesitant” Dick offered.

“They’re too old to look past my sins. They're just not old enough to get over that childish need yet” Slade rumbled. Dick almost replied, So am I, but held his tongue.

“They should know why you held back. You’re their dad and Addie hasn't exactly held back on her opinions. They’ve only been fed the worse, so you can't really blame them for thinking up awful theories” Dick said instead, “We all know that he didn't live because he got lucky or got one over on you”

Slade raised a single brow in response, “Is that so?” his tone was bland but his facial features weren't. Dick nodded and smirked, crossing his arms with a duh look, “No one can stand up to Deathstroke the Terminator”

Slade’s chest rose and fell with the faint echoes of a suppressed chuckle. He shifted slightly, sitting straighter so he could throw a hand over Dick’s shoulders, “You’ve always known just what to say to please an old man, kid”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Yea right, I pissed you off so bad when I was Robin”

Slade shook his head, “Less than you think actually. You were more infuriating as Nightwing. That attitude with the skills to match really threw a wrench in my plans”

Dick cocked his head up at Slade but the man seemed content with the silence. He knew he’d get nothing more but sometimes reflecting on Slade made Dick consider the fact that life was nurture, not nature. Slade Wilson was a special ops-enhanced soldier for the US government until he pissed off one too many men. After that, his wife hurt him, took his children, took his eye and his pride. Dick often wondered what Slade would've been like if allowed to live in peace. It was impossible not to wonder out of sheer curiosity. The man was as normal and civilian as they come before the US military had seen a use for him. While he often thought about things like that in simple daydreams, for the first time he wondered if, in different realities, was Slade more often a killer? Or a family man? Was his only defining steady characteristic his ambition? Fuck me if I got the one who took his goals too seriously, Dick thought.

Was he following the path so closely similar to Deathstroke the Terminator’s cold heart in this world or did Dick have the outlier as his teacher and guiding hand?

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Yeah, I got it too,” Jason said as Tim paced back and forth in front of him and Damian. He’d pulled up his old Teen Titans VPN satellite access. The League’s decision had been solidified but today and tomorrow were being spent on deciding who would be sanctioned to which part of this broad mission. Most heroes were being given an extra city or region to patrol in addition to their home. Some heroes were being given supporting responsibilities that had them helping to fight the Light from home. The last group of heroes would be directly involved and responsible for traveling, corresponding with Deathstroke, communicating back new information to the base, and tracking Dick resolutely. Jason wanted no part of it. He was already fed up with the jumpy glances Damian and Tim were sending him. Like they were skittish that he might abandon their mission after what had gone down since they’d been home. Jason wasn't about to say it out loud but he was close to it. When they finally got Dick to return home, chained or freely, Jason had plans to sequester him away. He’d be damned if he let his big fucked up brother go home to a man-child like Bruce. The Bat would only ruin Dick more. Jason knew it would start a fight as well, so he kept his lips sealed for now, but he was entirely convinced that the mission was bound to fall apart and break down at some point too. While Dick was a key player, it was obvious that most of the League wanted to stop the Light, separate from saving Dick. Their priorities would clash and Jason knew it was a when and not an if.

Tim sighed heavily, “Fuck” he breathed, “This was just sent too” he bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair in a manner that Damian tracked sharply. Jason knew the younger boy was going out of his way to find mirror images of Dick in his surroundings. Jason did it too at some point. “There is no way Slade and Dick don't know,” Tim said.

Jason shrugged, “We got her SOS on the Titans line. She knows Dick doesn't use his anymore” he leaned back into his seat, “Besides if she called mean old daddy, why would she call us?”

“Rose can be stupid at times, but she isn't that stupid. If she’s in trouble she would contact Slade first; always, and then send out extra messages as a backup up” Tim looked at his brothers, “We have the same kind of protocols in place”

“So?”

Tim scowled, “So” he dragged out, “This is another chance to get to Dick. They really won't be expecting us now”

Jason blinked away the green and clenched his jaw, “Are you blind?” he sneered, “Dick wants nothing to do with us and our bullshit good cop bad cop ploy is only gonna piss him off”

Tim looked ready to argue but Damian sat forward, “We need to help, Richard will no doubt be assisting in resolving Rose’s SOS” he crossed his arms, “He has a soft spot for erratic lawless heathens” he sent a pointed glare to Jason.

Jason narrowed his eyes, “What are you lookin’ at me for you fucking little heathen”

Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at Jason over the rim of his fingers, “Jason, we need to go. Not only will Dick undoubtedly be there, but this is Rose. We know she and Joey aren't like their dad”

Jason scoffed, “Rose is a fucking Deathstroke mini-me with a vag, replacement”

Tim grimaced, “She isn't like her dad in the ways that count”

Jason nodded, “I hear ya, I hear ya. So what? We leave now and not tell anyone? The signal came from Viet-fuckin-nam”

Damian stood up, “Which is why we need to go now!”

Jason looked around the room in disbelief, “Does this kid have selective hearing or what?”

Tim ignored Damian, “I know what we should do, but you’re not gonna like it….”

Jason watched his younger brother with a distrustful expression, “What?”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick tightened his forearm straps further. He checked the buckles on his boots and ran his hand over the sheathed knives across his back and ribs. His team approached him as he was triple-checking his holstered guns, “Sir?”

“What?” Dick asked coldly. 

Kris shared a glance with Ronan, “We were hoping to confirm what our roles and responsibilities will be here?”

Dick closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders back like he was struggling to answer her politely, “You are here for support” he said eventually.

“Ren, man, come on,” Jacks said, “We don't know who Rose is and we haven't even had an official mission debrief-”

Dick turned on Jacks sharply, “You, Wildcat, do not need a mission debrief. All of you” Dick offered them coldly damaging looks, “Are here for basic support and backup. That means whatever I or the Colonel require, when we require it. Rose is the target and if she does not come out of this unharmed and well, then neither. Will. You” Dick said lowly.

He opened his mouth to continue his scathing speech when Wintergreen spoke, “Richard”

All eyes turned to the older British man. He gave Richard a sad, knowing look. Dick scowled but lowered his head in acknowledgment, “I think it’s best if we practice reigning in our tempers right now” he chided softly, “Rudeness will not save Ms. Rose any sooner, unfortunately”

Dick nodded and made a visible effort to pull back on the derogatory darkness that was seeping out of his pores, “Sorry” he murmured. Without a glance behind him, he stalked off towards his own duffle bag. They had just landed about 3 clicks out from Gao’s remote jungle compound and Dick’s mood had worsened by the minute. He’d been determined and reflective early on in the flight, but they noticed that after he moved on from where he appeared to be clutched to the Colonel’s side, he’d delved into an aggressively darker aura. His behavior was sharper and his tone was equally as brutal. Slade watched Dick from behind his mask as he too affixed his gear and double-checked the necessary straps and gear. He knew how deeply Dick cared for Rose. He was one of the few he’d entrust his daughter's life to if he was away for whatever reason, but it was still thrilling and deeply pleasing for him to see the consequences of said concern. The way his apprentices’ anger was bubbling to the surface and spilling over, infecting those who were ranked beneath him. Degrading his teammates for the sake of venting his frustration had its uses to an extent. Wintergreen understood this and stepped in before Slade had deemed it necessary. He and Wintergreen had seen the boy struggle with his developing emotions over the last few years. It was a hard battle between suppressed emotions, mental baggage, denial, and all the emotional and mental development most young adults had the opportunity to experience without the duress of brainwashing and torture. 

He watched the boy jerk his bag open and rummage through with an aggression that was uncalled for. He’d have to make sure the boy was reeled in properly or had an appropriate outlet for these increasing outbursts and rolling waves of anger. Wintergreen turned back towards the main controls as a low beeping sound started to alert. Slade watched the man for a moment but halted as he made to turn away, Wintergreen was frozen, staring at the radar screen for the jet. There was something there that was abnormal or something of concern for the older man. The way his brow was creased and his shoulders tensed. Slade turned to the older man and stepped up to his side, “What is it?”

Wintergreen hummed and tapped a few controls, selecting a greater scan of the area while singling in one whatever he'd been alerted to, “We have company”

“Do we? Or does Gao?” 

Wintergreen didn't answer at first, “It’s large, too large to be an incoming truck of drugs” he straightened up from the controls, “I think this is another plane”

Slade sighed in exasperation, “Those damned bats” he muttered, “Rose must have sent out some sort of SOS or message to her contacts with Dick’s brothers”

Wintergreen nodded, “Ahh, yes. Timothy gave her access to the Teen Titans communication line and I believe she used to have quite the crush on the Redhood”

Slade scowled, “Don't remind me, that girl is more trouble than any of her brothers ever were” he turned away, “It doesn't matter, we’ll deal with Gao now and take Rose before they have a chance to land and infiltrate. I don't have the patience for Dick’s temper tantrums and Wayne’s pettiness all at once today”

Wintergreen sent Slade a look over his shoulder, “Be glad she didn't call Joey's Titan's contact. Be careful” he warned.

Slade crossed his arms, “What makes you say that?”

“I know that you want the boy close and dependant on you but tossing out disparaging insults to save your overly inflated ego, will do nothing for your relationship with the boy” he turned back to the controls, “You’re not subtle, Wilson. The eyes in the back of my head could see you 2”

Slade fell quiet and Wintergreen thought he had left when the man leaned in and placed a large hand over the pinging radar screen, “Do not involve yourself merely for the sake of being meddlesome, old friend”

Wintergreen didn't reply so Slade took his leave. They were landed in a small clearing, just big enough for the plane’s wings to be relatively unburdened by the tropical trees and overgrowth surrounding them. They’d crushed a few smaller trees and greenery in the landing, but landing safely and quietly was their main concern. They did not want to risk petty, unprofessional lowlifes getting too jumpy from their presence and harming Rose. Slade wasn't sure if he was interrogating his youngest or if the plan was to auction her back to Slade in a blackmail sort of scheme, but the intentions, outside of being deceitful and nefarious, were vague and unclear. Slade made his way back to the main hallway of the plane to find his apprentice’s team huddled in the back, adequately chastised. They sensed his approach and stood up. The three of them bowed and held their hands behind their backs; feet shoulder-width apart. They stood in their usual formation, offering respect and greater leadership implications to the older tanned woman, Falcon. Slade peered around them wordlessly, surprised to not see his apprentice amongst them.

While Dick frequently lashed out, his team did an acceptable job of maintaining their presence; most likely due to Falcon’s sweet but overbearing methods. Slade had come to find that while they took the brunt of his anger or witnessed some of his harsher breakdowns, they were usually there to quell and calm the burnout afterward. That’s when the apologies and small; sniffles came in, when Slade was always reminded that his apprentice was not only barely out of his teenage years, but still an incredibly emotional young man at that. Driven by a combination of what he desired to do in the moment and what he knew he should do. Slade made sure that he and Wintergreen did not intervene, even if bystanders were hurt or wounded, when the boy's self-imposed expectations snowballed within. He didn't care how much cyclical guilt the boy had to suffer in his lifetime, Slade would numb him out of his self-sacrificing urges if it was the last thing he did.

“Where is Renegade” Slade said; it wasn't a question, but a demand for an answer.

The shortest team member, Wildcat blinked stupidly. His soft dark hair was pulled back into scalp-tight braids and tied loosely at his neck. Ever the worst poker player, he sent an uncertain glance to the others. “Sir?” Eerie inquired with a straight face. His freckles were washed out against the bags under his eyes and the poor lighting in the jet’s ceilings. 

“Need I repeat myself?” Slade narrowed his eye.

Falcon shook her head, “Apologies sir, we can’t answer you because we don’t know. We assumed he was upfront with you and the Major” She dipped her head. Slade could appreciate that the only female touch to the group offered not only a motherly aura but a polite and politically sensible behavior as well, but at that moment Slade couldn't care less. Slade quickly turned and gave the seats of rows back up to the front of the plane one last glimpse in case the boy was sulking behind one of the larger VIP-designed leather seats when the side door caught his attention. They usually entered and exited through the main cabin door, just behind Will’s pilot seat, but there was an emergency exit door halfway through the plane that was about the size of one person if they stood sideways and shuffled out the door. Slade narrowed his eye, understanding what happened. He approached the door and noted that the inside lock was disarmed, but the door was closed. He quickly made his way back to his seat where his and Dick's personal bags were thrown across the seats. Slade snatched Dick’s bag up, noting how light it was. His anger peaked as wrappings and spare gloves and sunglasses tumbled onto the seat. Slade reached up and pulled down his weapon cases from the overhead bins as he heard Dick’s underlings approach from behind, “Sir?” Eerie asked.

Slade didn't respond but he noticed that Wintergreen had caught onto something being amiss. Slade flipped over the case and found his 2 spare glocks gone. He didn't even need to check Dick’s weapon’s cases as he knew they’d be empty, and last he saw, the boy already had his personal firearms and shorthand katanas sheathed on his person. Slade chuckled and rolled his neck, popping his shoulders and forcing the rising tenseness down, “That boy” Slade sighed.

Wintergreen turned around and stared at the empty bag and gun encasement with a frown. He sighed, “I’ll try to radio him”

“Do that” Slade agreed as he wondered if chasing after his apprentice would be more compromising for the boy than allowing his ridiculous behavior to run free and chase after his daughter, “He could just turn me off, especially as he gets closer to base” Wintergreen reminded him as he pulled out their small ear comms. 

“Do it” Slade barked again. He knew his boy would return with his daughter, Slade was just going to have to wait and see what the damage was before he dolled out an appropriate punishment. He’d have to be careful to make sure the boy knew he wasn't being punished for his loyalty to Slade and his children, but more merely because he wasn't listening to orders. The boy often liked to throw his words back in his face and remind him of how heavily Slade liked to emphasize free will and free thinking actions and decisions, but Slade would sew the brat's mouth shut if he didn't take his punishment this time around.

Chapter 16

Notes:

Sorry, this one is inconveniently long-at least it felt like that when I wrote it lol. It took me forever to edit this too so please let me know if this is crazy filled with typos(I already know I missed some lol)

Jason was abhorrently pissed. He very nearly flew to Vietnam separately just to avoid his old man. Bruce didn't even try to explain himself when he returned from his meeting with the League. Everyone in the hero community was aware of the consequences but very few were privy to why. Not even an hour later, Tim had spilled everything about Rose Wilson’s SOS message. Bruce agreed they should go and stated that he would inform Superman and the others later. Bruce didn't seem shocked and surprised when Jason reverted to no contact with him. Apparently, half the League, unsurprisingly the same half that voted against Dick, had been ordered to remain within North America and to help patrol and monitor extra cities when needed. Superman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, the Flash, Black Canary, and Batman had been put on direct mission duty. Even though Superman and Wonder Woman were listed as field and combat priority, they all agreed that more than just those 2 were allowed out into the field if something deemed it necessary. 

Jason had been prepared to fight tooth against the idea of cooperating with the same man who paid his legal bills, his traffic tickets, and his phone bill when Damian surprised him. He’d grabbed Jason’s hand, stopping him in the hallway, “What?” Jason snapped. His frown slowly fell apart when he realized that Damian had never before held his hand; ever. Damian was staring Jason down resolutely, “Father messed up, horribly. We all know it, but if you abandon us because you can't contain your pride and ego, only Richard will suffer”

Jason was one huff away from yanking his gloved hand from Damian's, but something held him back. Maybe it was second-hand guilt, maybe it was some strange new-found maturity, or even just Dick's 6th sense bearing down on them all. An 8-hour flight later found them landing in a small clearing a little ways off from where Rose’s transmission was cut short. It had pinged 4 times before ending. According to Tim, the standard SOS was 7 pings at least, but 4 was too many to be an accident or false alarm. The only uplifting thing that Jason could see salvaging his mood was when they returned from this little mission to find a sorely pissed and angry Wally. He and Jason had butted heads the whole way home from their last op, and only Roy and Artemis were able to keep them pulling knives and enhanced strength on each other.

When they left, a small murmur in his chest had watched Damian’s bright green eyes and whispered that they might be lucky enough to return with Dick, but Jason had squashed the small hopeful voice. He’d rather be completely surprised than be let down. Batman closed the main hatch to the ship when Tim gasped, “There are others nearby” he whispered. Jason whipped around to see Tim staring at his pocket holocomputer. The small screen had a radar depiction of nearby movement and sound. Tim watched it for a few seconds, “A small team” he reported in surprise.

“Whoever is holding Rose hostage most likely has men patrolling the area,” Damian said. Tim nodded.

Without looking to Batman, he deactivated his screen and slipped it inside his pocket, “Let’s go. We have the advantage and can subdue them quietly. If we’re lucky they'll have radios on them and we can get an idea of what we’re walking into”

Jason smirked, glad to see that Batman’s behavior wasn't going completely unpunished by just the disappointment child, “Dick might be here already” he warned them.

“That’s true but we have the risk, we can determine if it’s them and go from there” Tim nodded west, “They’re a quarter of a click that way so we should move fast and circle around behind them. If we don't recognize them, we need to act fast and move on them”

“If it’s not?” Damian demanded with a bend in his domino mask.

“Then we pull back and regroup. It goes without saying that we shouldn't attack Deathstroke without a better plan and more people” Tim replied sternly.

“We won't be,” Batman said lowly, shutting Damian down. They headed out, trekking through the jungle overgrowth as quietly as possible and freezing every time a branch snapped too sharply to be an accident of the forest. Jason very rarely ever acknowledged his meta status because he didn't view himself on the same level as Superboy or Wally. The Pit enhanced his physical attributes just enough for him to outperform and dominate the average human, but that wasn't to say he wasn't glad for the ability to take a punch or to hear more clearly than the rest, “Shh” Jason hissed. Everyone halted on command and looked at Jason. He tilted his head and listened for the same distinct sound that had set off his senses to begin with. He was tempted to take off his helmet but didn't just yet, preferring the level of safety and intimation it naturally offered when he wore it.

He heard it again. A strange sound that was distinct enough for him to recognize that it was not a forest or overgrowth-generated sound. It was clothing or plastic; maybe something hitting something else quickly. Either way, Jason was willing to bet it was human movement causing the sound. He looked to Redrobin and nodded in the direction Tim’s device had set them off in. Tim pulled out his device and checked their status and geolocation. He must’ve seen something on his holo screen to confirm the direction Jason had heard and nodded affirmatively. Batman stepped up beside Tim and motioned a concise sweep with his hand. He looked to Jason and Damian and offered 4 fingers before making another sweeping motion followed by a push. The 3 boys nodded and set off. Jason smirked, imagining how confused Artemis, Roy, and Wally would be to see their hand signals. It was a combination of French, English, and Germanic sign language to confuse anyone attempting to read their coded language. Every other hand signal was completed within another language and Batman had made sure each of his Robins was fluent in the doctored signal-based language before their first solo mission. Batman had even gone far enough as to create a coded version of their made-up language. If there was a security risk or a reason to impress upon some sort of risk with others present, they’d do it backward, so every other word was still from a different language, but it started with German instead of French. 

They found their source of sounds soon enough. Just beyond a cluster of thick palm trees and overgrown shrubbery, lay the sound of crushing forest floor, leaves, and the rustle of clothing. Jason had the snide thought of wishing the forest had HOA gardeners so they could at least see through a single pair of palm trees. 

Who is it? He signed to Tim

Tim frowned and gestured to the green blips on his small wrist screen, How should I know?

Well? Damian demanded, only to be ignored.

Tim turned his screen around to show Bruce that there were 4 blips on their screen, It could be anyone, Bruce signed back as he studied the screen and flicked his gaze to the faint rustling beyond the trees. The team they were tracking wasn't speaking either so they had no idea if they were following dangerous enemies or simple thick-headed kidnappers. For a few seconds they signed back between them when Damian waved his arms angrily, We need to do something, not only are we wasting time, but we have no idea what is happening to Rose Wilson.

Batman frowned, disliking how right his youngest was. He looked to Jason but Tim tried to take control of their small covert mission, We’ll rush them so either way we start with the advantage.

That could be disastrous for us, Batman signed with a scowl

I know but Damian’s right. We don't have any of the tech we need to confirm who it is and we’re here on a rescue mission either way. They might be killing her or selling her right now. Rose might have some of Slade’s healing but she’s still young.

Batman’s white slits narrowed before he grudgingly nodded. He looked to Jason and gave him permission to use his firearm but ordered him to maintain non-lethal aims.

Like you could do anything about it if I just ignored you, Jason thought snidely.

Be prepared, have everything at the ready, Batman signed.

They spread out in an even half-circle before rushing forward. Jason threw himself through the overly long palm fronds and into a roll. He sprung to his feet and tackled the first body he saw; registering the movements and height instead of the cloth-covered face. They rolled to a stop and Jason felt a boulder drive up and into his stomach, shattering his concentration. He groaned and felt the body beneath him roll him off, making Jason realize he’d been kneed by the person and not attacked by a rock. He bit his cheek and shoved down the overwhelming aching pain. He grabbed for the hands pushing him off, and they fought, scrambling for a better grip on the other’s clothing before Jason became fed up. With a low snarl, he kicked out and shoved the person away. He scrambled to his feet and tried to stand quicker than his victim. He found his footing and whirled around only to come face to face with the worst-case scenario. Before him stood the same dark-skinned man that had infiltrated the bar at De Longe’s event. His hair was pulled back tightly and his lower face was covered in a dark cloth mask. His eyes were narrowed in a complimentary way. Jason narrowed his eyes in return before scanning behind him. Deathstroke and 2 others were facing off against Batman, Redrobin, and Robin. Jason ground his teeth together when he recognized the dark, short-haired woman and the tall redhead from the caves.

“Well” Slade drawled with crossed arms, “I’ll have to have a talk with Rose about who she decides to waste time and effort on in the future, especially in dangerous situations”

“Can't say she isn't resourceful, Sir” Jacks coughed, standing up from the wet grass jungle floor.

“Wilson” Batman growled, “You agreed to inform us of your movements. This is rather quick to be falling back on your word, isn't it?”

Slade’s eye crinkled like he was grinning behind his mask, “Ahh, Batman. A bit preemptive to be making assumptions, isn't it? I told you I’d inform you of the Light’s movements and the contracts they sent me on. This is rather personal” he gaze dragged to his sons, “But I’m assuming you were already aware of that. What was the plan here, hmm? Rescue my daughter and hope she could supply you with ample information on me or my apprentice?”

“He’s not your apprentice” Damian spat.

Slade’s gaze fell flat, “We’re a little past that argument now aren't we?”

“Sir” Flacon said lowly, “With all due respect, we really need to go if we’re going to catch Renegade”

“Dick is here,” Redrobin said with accusation layering his tone.

“Where is he?” Batman demanded.

Slade’s figure seemed to straighten and dissolve itself of his casual and laid-back stance, “My student seems to have gotten ahead of himself and run off to the camp my daughter is being held at”

“Why did they kidnap Rose? This is just some lowlife drug pusher isn't he?” Damian demanded, Jason smirked.

Slade’s cold gaze locked onto them, “I know you think yourself special because Rose foolishly still keeps in contact with you, but try not to assume you’re privileged enough to be privy to family matters, boy”

Jason bit his tongue to keep the rising green as minimal as possible, “You don't have any fucking backup, cheap-ass gunner drones now, Wilson” Jason sneered back.

The man’s eye crinkled in mirth, “Do you really think the lack of equipment is what will be the deciding factor in my defeat boy?”

He looked at Batman with a deadpan tone, “You stopped trying after the first one didn't you?”

“You fu-”

“Redhood” Redrobin snapped. Jason snarled but he heard Wildcard snicker behind him. He was about to turn on the man and beat his face in when Slade turned slightly and narrowed his gaze on the shorter man behind Jason. The snickers halted like someone had clicked the mute button on the man.

“Deathstroke” Redrobin spoke lowly and loudly, “Is this a contract? You swore to keep us in the loop moving forward”

Slade tilted his head slightly towards the tall, lean youth, “Well then you’ll be pleased to know that this truly has nothing to do with the Light and instead is entirely within fault of my aggressively foolish, wayward daughter”

“So you’re not taking a hit on these men?” Redrobin persisted.

Slade glowered in a way that said, I might

“Looks like you can't keep a handle on Dickie either,” Jason said, followed by a muttered, “Perv” under his breath.

“I don't know if I would consider my apprentice’s attempt to rescue my daughter as one that would prove a lack of influence over his actions”

“Sir-” Eerie was interrupted by a gunshot, snapping everyone’s attention towards the far east. They listened in silence before another 2 sporadic shots rang out. Suddenly a shriek echoed over the trees and sent birds flying above the treeline. Before anyone could speak, multiple rounds of automatic gunfire descended like an echoing threat in the jungle.

“Found him,” Jason and Jacks said simultaneously. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick watched the 2 men patrol the front of the compound as an egotistical male would; lazily. They were leaned against the front of the fence in the most vulnerable positioning possible. If Dick were a sniper, they’d be dead within the same exhale. They were dressed for the hot humid weather which left them even more exposed than their positioning. Dicks scanned the surrounding compound, noting the simple chain link fence was most likely there to keep out animals. The surrounding villages and victims, like Rose’s, were too fearful to confront or attack Gao’s army of gang members. He knew that there were most likely some men that were out in towns or surrounding locations, selling and buying product under Gao’s orders, but Dick guestimated that he’d only have a resistance of about 25 men, Child’s play.

Without taking his eyes off his first 2 victims, Dick reached back and felt his sheathed katana and then his short firearm strapped to his right thigh. He knew Slade and the others would be pissed but he couldn't care about his obligations to them at the moment. All he could think about was the way Slade’s cold steel gaze softened on his family photo, taken before his loving family had been shredded apart and scarred for life. Dick despised that men like Slade were produced so easily. That men like Gao could react and touch the world in whatever ways they liked, resulting in such tragedies that echoed and echoed until the future resulted in the one they were living. He unsheathed his short-hand katana, intent on easing the thumping, hot feeling in his palms. The same feeling that often resulted in Dick’s blackouts and more bodies when he awoke. It was worse when he resisted, often overcoming him at more inconvenient times, and resulting in more damage and bodies. Dick knew he’d been reckless as well by not keeping up with his morning routine after the cave overdose incident. 

He’d told himself that after Jason and Uncle Clark had accidentally flooded his system with too much cryo compound, and then he’d become near comatose from Queen Bee’s mined flowers, he was simply giving his system a well-needed break and respite. Now though, Dick felt he’d been wrong. He should have kept his body under pressure, verging on a breakdown or a recovery being equally as likely. He could feel the slight tremors beneath his skin like his veins and arteries were physically expanding and compressing to pump his genetically modified blood throughout. The anger and emotional whiplash on the plane ride over had most likely played a factor in speeding the process up. A doctor one time had compared Dick’s emotional overlap with his electrum production to women and their hormone cycle. He said that it could be very likely that Dick’s emotions had a severely influential effect and that healing could be delayed or increased, slowed or altered, by trauma and stress. Dick had laughed then but was currently questioning his common sense while wondering how women weren't on the verge of mass murder every other Monday.

He made his way forward, keeping to the edge of the fence and staying low. The lack of natural light that was able to penetrate through the tall looming palm trees and fungle overgrowth, paired with the small constantly moving lizards and life, made Dick out to be just another shifting shadow. He was a few feet away when one of the men turned, glancing around, and caught Dick’s eye. The man seemed confused for a second before his eyes widened, realizing he was making human eye contact. The man opened his mouth in an alert but Dick was quicker. He lunged forward and jammed his blade into the base of the man’s throat, cutting off any potential sound. The blade sunk to the hilt’s base and his fist was instantly overcome with a warm rush of spurting red. The man beside him choked in surprise as he struggled to comprehend what was going on, but Dick was quicker. While keeping the first man tethered to his blade, his leg shot out and swept the second man’s feet from beneath him. The man collapsed with a thud and his air escaped him. He gasped and struggled to push himself up to his feet, reaching for something at his waist. By the time he grasped his make-shift radio, Dick was already straddling him, slicing the blade horizontally against his adams apple. His skin split like warm butter and Dick was shoving him away the moment he saw his gaze go distant; not even sticking around to see the moment all light left his eyes. He shook off his hands to discard what congealed, dripping blood he could. The warmth now coating his fists and forearms seemed to send a thrill of heat and heightened awareness through him, igniting his favored feeling of adrenaline and rush.

Dick bit the blade between his teeth as he grabbed the fence to throw himself over, landing in a silent crouch within the compound. He scanned the surrounding area, noting that most of the inhabitants must still be inside or just further towards the back of the base. Dick gripped his blade in his hand tighter and prowled forward, choosing the first open door he found. Inside was cooler and damp with the feel of too many corner fans. Before him was a thin hallway that seemed to cut left and right every few feet. Dick came across his next man soon enough. The footsteps were loud and comfortable. Dick flattened his back to the wall as he heard the man approach from the hallway behind. He swung out with sudden forcefulness and made sure to keep the blade lower than his own face. The man didn't even have a chance to cry out as Dick felt the contact. He turned with the blade, briefly noting the weapon had gone through his nose and into the base of his brain. He shoved the body away and continued on. All of the men he came across resembled grunts and workers. Dick gritted his teeth as he sought for someone who dressed and held himself with authority. Someone who would know where Rose was being kept and why.

After another few hallways and another few bodies, Dick found himself at another large door. He entered as it took him into the next building in the base. The area was much larger and seemed to have a thinner roof with less insulation. Dick glanced around, noting the large clear plastic-wrapped white bundles. He realized he was in their most expensive building, using it for drug storage. Dick narrowed his eyes on the crates and crates of bundled drugs, disliking that the men were intelligent enough to know that increased insulation and air flow were a necessity in their primary storage room. He continued through, slicing carelessly through every other white bundle. He felt like a kid who had decided to empty every interesting food item in the store, disregarding the consequences of being caught. Apparently, he wasn't quiet enough because further along into the room, along the wall, a curtain was brushed aside and a dark-haired man popped his head out with a clenched brow, “What the fu-” The man was cut off as Dick tossed his blade to his left hand and retrieved his shorthand glock with his right. He fired in the next second and the man smacked the wall behind him before collapsing into a messy splay of limbs. In response, shouts and cries echoed from the makeshift room the man had come from. 

A handful of men rushed out of the room, stumbling over themselves and the dead body in the doorway. Dick grinned and dipped his chin as he met them halfway. He swung up with his left hand and felt the connecting force of flesh. He jerked his right hand, smashing the butt of his gun into someone’s face. Arms and legs kicked out at him, causing him to sporadically rely on his acrobatics to hop, leap, and dodge. He ducked as a fist swung at him from behind and he saw the arm miss over his head as he dropped to his haunches and kicked out, hearing a snap and a cry as another man crumbled. Suddenly a shot ran out and Dick jerked with a hiss, his shoulder hunched forward against his wishes as sharp hot pain stabbed through his right shoulder blade. He whipped a round to see reinforcements coming from where he had just entered. Each one was armed with their own heavily modified and illegal automatic firearm.

Dick had seen them plenty of times, usually, they were low-grade base firearms equipped to handle a variety of magazine types to offer a wider range of use and make them more convenient to pass around within the criminal underground. They yelled something Vietnamese and he wished, not for the first time, that he learned more from Rose and her aunts. He did catch the word fucker and shoot but the orders outside of that were lost to him. Dick caught the way his new assailants tensed and held their guns; far too tense and far too aimless. It wasn't difficult to dip, dodge, and avoid the next few rounds of firing. Most of the contacts the bullets made to his skin were from grazes or ricochets that were far too hard to predict within a metal base. Dick took them with a dismissive brush and kept going. He made it a step closer with each doge, each roll, before finally coming within arms reach. He lunged, tackling 3 of them with just one throw of his body. Many of the men fell and collapsed, obviously unfamiliar with close-range combat. These were the weaklings who called themselves professional criminals for believing they had the balls to break the law with class IV paraphernalia trade and usage. 

Dick snapped out a variety of knees and punches, feeling his adrenaline soar higher and higher with every land, every sound of solid flesh-on-flesh contact. The high became parallel to his increasingly fuzzy vision and lost to reasonable thought. The necessity of movement was beginning to overtake him again and every few moments Dick caught himself falling into a sort of mindless delirium; where all that mattered was fueling that fire inside him; finding a source to provide sustenance for the itching aching feeling in his knuckles and palms. Every blink felt slowed and he had difficulty remembering how many men he'd taken down. Distantly, in the back of his lessening coherent mind, he was aware that the last time he felt like this he’d almost killed Kris and had broken Slade’s arm. But at the moment, his conscience was far too weak-willed to give a damn. Dick was panting happily by the time the last man collapsed. Dick removed the barrel of his gun from the man’s mouth and looked around, noting that no one was left to interrogate. His nose pinched in irritation and he looked back to the curtain-covered doorway behind him. He stepped over bodies before ducking beneath the curtain into the spacious room. He found a simple radio station set, most likely illegally pieced together to listen to local air and police waves. Beside that sat a few locked cash boxes, and a simple computer and monitor. Dick bent forward to fiddle with the computer before he realized how drenched his fingertips were. He chanced a glance down at his body, slightly raising his arms to discover the rest of his torso and thighs matched well enough. 

He swiped his hands through the air with quick aggression before attempting to see what he could find on the computer. Hacking the few access keys was simple enough but Dick couldn't find anything that would possibly pertain to Slade or Rose; nothing mentioning the Wilson family or his captive. Speaking of which, Dick looked around the room for anything else that might offer him guidance. He didn't want Rose to be in greater danger now that the base knew he was here. Knowing Slade, his master wouldn't be far behind him either. The man was too much of an OCD control freak to leave anything like Rose up to chance, no matter how much he trusted Dick. He looked down and spotted the man closest to him still breathing. Dick dropped to his knees and dragged the man up by his hair, forcing him to sit up with a hiss, “Hey” Dick snapped his fingers and slapped the man’s stubble-covered cheeks a few times, “Where is she?” Dick demanded.

The man didn't answer, trying to blink past the pain and fear, “Where. Is. The. Girl” Dick said slowly in Vietnamsese. The man took a shuddering breath as the pain in his shot torso seemed to register again. As if fate was trying to be ironic, the 2 bullets in Dick's back and shoulder blade finished popping out of his skin and fell to the floor with a clink. Dick ignored the sound, more used to the healing process than getting a haircut at this point in his life. 

“Hey-” Dick stopped short as his eyes caught a strange flash of white; a soft white. He did a double take and glanced back at the desk, spotting something feather white inside a small clear bag at the far end of the desk that held the makeshift radio system.  Dick dropped the man without another glance and made a beeline for the bag. He snatched it up and his breath caught as he ran his thumb over it. It was a lock of Rose’s hair; a rather large lock. He pulled the bag taunt, the ends were broken and ragged lengths so someone had lopped it off with something besides scissors. Dick snarled as he imagined Rose in some filthy cell, chained against her will. He imagined how easily some lowlife thug, not even worthy of sharing her air, had come in and shoved her against the wall; pulling her hair out straight so he could swipe his even filthier knife through it. Or maybe it had been 2 men, one man to hold her down while the other pulled at her frail angel white hair-

Dick clenched his eyes and shook himself, realizing how disoriented and dizzy he was becoming. He wasn't even cognizant of his anger anymore, he was dizzy and hot, and clear thoughts were becoming far too troublesome. He dropped the bag onto the table and told himself it wasn't because he was trembling too violently to hold it steady. A weak groan had Dick snapping his head back to the man on the floor. He’d intended to ask, where is she? again, but found himself only able to produce a breathy gasp. He clasped a hand to his forehead and bent over, taking deeply horrendous gulps of air. His head was spinning, and the world with it. Dick blinked, trying to see past the strange tilting world. The ceiling was merged with the wall and the curtained doorway on every other blink. Dick knew that wasn't right but his eyes were disagreeing with him quite viraciously. Dick tried to take deep calming inhales but soon realized that he was panting? No, hyperventilating. He meant to lean forward but jerked as he found his forehead crashing into the desk and the radio system, causing a confounding crashing sound to ring in his ears. He bit his lip and gritted his teeth, trying to will away the rising heat. He was-he was boiling inside his suit. Where was the zipper?! Dick panicked and tried reaching for the security clasp on his Nightwing suit. 

It wasn't there, why wasn't it there?! Dick felt the cold heat of panic start to override his scorching system. Before he realized it, he found himself fumbling for his comm. He knew Alfred always put a security clasp over his suit’s zipper. Slade wouldn't let him out in the field without those kinds of safety precautions, right? Slade-no, not Slade, Bruce? Bruce, right B…Bruce was angry with him. What did he do to piss off his dad this time? His mind forced the vague blurry image of John Grayson forward in his mind but Dick was certain it was just the memory of a poster and not a person. FLYING GRAYSONS was printed above his dad’s head. Dick felt the telltale signs of hot, wet tears start to pinch and sting his eyes, but then the heat overwhelmed him, and the last thing he could make sense of was the searing, molten heat scalding every inch of his body; inside and out.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Damian gasped as their group rushed into view of the compound. 2 men lay dead in a conjoining pool of blood before the fenced-in base. Just beyond it, lay an open metal door with another body just within view of the extended hallway.

“Find him” Batman ordered his boys.

They’d barely had any time to really interrogate Deathstroke and his soldiers. Everyone, fortunately, agreed that Rose, the prisoner, and Dick’s foolish rashness, were the priority, and finding one meant finding the other. Jason took the lead, bumping shoulders with Jacks as they followed the trail of bodies down the green uneven metal hallways of the compound. Down and down, each step and footprint of their group was reinvigorated by the renewal of blood and bodies every 20, 40, and 60 feet.

“If this doesn't prove that Ren’s capable of more than you give him credit for, nothing will,” Jacks said lowly as he and Jason peered around every corner. Jason snarled behind his mask and helmet, “I never said Dickie was incapable. He’s the fucking boy wonder, he’s just better off not being manipulated by you lowlifes and that old perv”

“They know this, Redhood” Robin sneered, “How can they not know how horribly they are manipulating Richard after his trauma”

Jack’s brow descended lowly and he looked like he wanted to respond just as spitefully, but was hesitant to verbally combat the boys after his Colonel’s domineering behavior against it earlier.

“Wait” Jason snapped. He halted and the rest of them did as well, “What do you hear?” Redrobin asked.

Jacks grinned, distorting his cloth mask, “Ooooh, you’re the pit brother” he glanced at Eerie and Flacon before looking to Tim, “I thought it was you”

Redrobin glowered and the whites of his mask thinned severely, “Don't engage” Batman barked, “What is it Redhood?”

Jason listened, cocking his head as he tried to strain his ears, a breathy gasp and a ragged sound barely touched his ears, “Yelling” he shot off towards the sound as footsteps thundered after him. Jason barrelled around corner after corner with Jacks before coming to a large metal door. He kicked it down and sped through, instantly tripping over a pair of legs. Jacon stumbled forward and pinwheeled his arms to keep from tumbling into a puddle of thick red. He blinked and looked around before realizing they were in a bloodied warehouse. The base of the door was pilled high with collapsed bodies and shredded skin of all sorts. At least 10 different men lay strewn across the cement while cut-opened bundles of cocaine and weed lined their view.

“It’s all fresh” Eerie commented from beside Deathstroke. He crouched down to look closer at a man whose throat had been slashed open to the point of his neck nearly falling open like a cereal container, “We-we need to find him” Robin swallowed hard.

“Should the kid be here?” Flacon whispered to Eerie, offering a glance at Robin.

“He can be wherever the fuck he wants" Redhood spat at her. He whipped around to see another 5 bodies on the far side of the room in front of a closed door and beside an open room on the right. Slade strode forward without a word and entered the room quickly. Jason and the others were close at his heel. “This is where Rose contacted us from” Redrobin commented as they took note of the broken radio and computed on the desk. There were 2 bodies the group had to step over to fully enter the room, but they were quickly deemed deceased with one look. Slade strode forward with a quick glance at the red-smeared radio system and speaker handle. He plucked a small clear blood bag off the table before his eye narrowed. He folded it up and placed it in a material compartment at his waist, “What was that?” Batman barked.

“That would've been my daughter’s ransom demand” Slade commented lightly. It felt polar as his shoulders were overly tensed like he holding in a greater anger. His eye scanned the desk for anything else of use, noting the bloody handprints and large puddles against the desk’s surface; some of the blood was darker than the rest and Slade turned to his 3 soldiers, “Find them” he ordered with a dangerous rumble. Another series of automatic rounds of gunfire sprouted from behind them, earning everyone’s surprise. They were through the door and out the closest exit immediately. They barged out into the daylight to find Dick mid-massacre. There were about 10 bodies at and around his feet while another handful stood facing him, shouting and scrambling with every step he took nearer. There was an obvious spatter of blood across Dick’s neck and jaw, the black compression shirt he wore beneath his padded armor was ripped at the neck and his soft chest armor was completely missing altogether. The laces on one of his combat boots were undone and his clothing and cargo pants clung to him like he’d been tossed into a raging river. The blood droplets that flew from his drenched hair and dripped from his fingers and clothing, dispelled any possible assumption that it may truly have been water.

The most startling thing about Dick wasn't the proof of the murders and copious amount of blood covetting his figure. It was the absurdly black lines that were plastered to Dick’s neck. Jason could see them crawling up Dick’s chest and neck, disappearing into his jaw and cheeks as they neared his face. They were strange uneven lines that held an upward momentum. Jason blanched realizing they weren't lines or markings at all, “What the hell is wrong with his veins?” Redrobin gasped. Jason couldn't agree more. Every inch of skin that was visible on his hands, chest, and neck seemed to house the diverging ebony arrays. They were hard to miss and hard to look away from because of how erratically dark they were; matching Dick’s hair almost too well. Jason would bet that every inch of his inner arms and elbows, which should've offered faint or nonexistent blue lines of healthy blood vessels and veins, would only show inky black strands that pumped something very distant from life.

The man closest to Dick shouted something and fired his gun. He was only able to get off about 5 shots before the magazine failed him and his gun clicked with a solemnness that made the soon-to-be victim’s eyes fly wide. Dick’s shoulder jerked and thudded as 2 of the shots made their home in his stomach and shoulder, earning a cry from Damian in the back. He was forced to take a step back from the forcefulness of the bullets, but the moment the gun proved itself empty, he descended on the man. He rushed forward with a quick ease that made Slade cross his arms and lean back, watching in mild interest. He yanked the gun from the man’s fingers and swung it in a wide loop, cracking across the man’s face. The man crashed to the floor and 2 bloody teeth tumbled from his lips. 

The remaining men behind him yelled out and pointed their guns at Dick. Dick looked up and seethed, offering a low animalistic snarl. He reached for his feet, retrieving a dropped short-hand katana, and chucked it at the nearest man. The man fell back with a shout while the other started firing like his life depended on it; which it did. Jason and the others had to throw themselves to the side to avoid the desperate spray of bullets. Jason looked up as the flashes and incessant pops vanished. Dick had the last man by the throat and was squeezing tightly. Their faces were only centimeters apart and Jason could see the heavy way Dick was panting into the dying man’s face; his teeth bared and his nose scrunched in a way that was entirely too reminiscent of a predator; a pissed-off one.

“Gray-Richard!” Damian called. Dick whirled around looking for the prey he’d missed but the man gurgled in his grip, regaining Dick’s attention. Jason blinked at the flash of Dick’s face they’d seen. Jason had been convinced something was up with Dick and his strange talon-like healing but what he’d just seen put all those theories to the grave. Dick’s lower face and jaw were covered in just as many inky black veiny rivers as the rest of his chest and throat. His eyes though, his eyes were the exact same bright canary gold that he’d seen in Dick’s furious face 2 years ago. Dick’s pupils were almost nonexistent beneath the iridescent raging yellow. In a warped way, it almost comforted Jason to know that not everything he knew about his brother had changed in the last 2 years. He’d never admit it but he despised the idea of Wilson being able to help or heal his brother in a way he couldn't. Knowing that Dick was just hiding his fucked up-ness better than before calmed an anxiety he didn't know he'd been shouldering. 

With Dick distracted, Damian deemed it safe to get to his feet and approach. Slade turned sharply, “Do not approach him” he ordered. Damian parted his lips to retort but Batman spoke, “Don't, Robin”

Robin looked to Batman in shock but Batman was staring at Dick. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were thinned as he took in Dick’s enhanced strength and the thin black bloodstreams grasping at his skin, just beneath the surface. Batman was witnessing something so unexpected, he was siding with Deathstroke to err caution.

Jason, unfortunately, couldn't blame the old man, Dickie was a sight, and not a pleasant one.

“Sir” Ronan retrieved a pouch at his waist and offered it to Slade, “I’ll self-administer,” he said dismissively. Slade made to move forward when Batman stepped forward, partially blocking the man, “What’s your plan here, Wilson?” Batman snarled lowly, "I won't allow you to harm my son any further"

Slade’s eye gleamed with amusement as he glanced down at where Batman had gripped his forearm, “I’m stopping my apprentice from finishing his kill…or would you rather he proceed?”

Batman turned back to see the man’s eyes had rolled into his head and he was spitting up pink spit. Dick held the man’s weight in the air; aloft in one hand, his large golden eyes were furious and unblinking as he watched the man suffer beneath his grip.

Batman released Slade and the mercenary huffed in amusement. He proceeded towards Dick with a familiarity that itched Jason’s insides like a fork against a china plate. The man reached for Dick only to duck as Dick dropped his dying victim and lashed out with clawed-like hands. He narrowed his gleaming eyes and lunged for the armored mercenary like the man was more prey than equal threat. Slade shifted his footing and met Dick’s challenge with a casual ease. He managed to get a grip on Dick’s middle as the dark-haired man threw himself at the killer. Slade hoisted Dick up and over his head, tossing him across the room. Dick managed a tuck and roll at the last second but still hit a stack of packaged crates. He was barely down for a second before he was launching himself at Slade with a savagery that was startling. He managed to get past the paid killer’s long arms and grasp hold of his torso, clinging like a feral koala. 

His arms snaked around Slade’s neck and the mercenary threw his head back, smashing into Dick’s head with his helmet. Dick howled which turned into a guttural snarl. His grip loosened and Slade threw him off and to the ground. Slade followed his collapsing momentum and was on Dick the moment his back hit the dirt. He straddled Dick and went to pin his arms down but Dick gripped one hand and yelled out, jerking Slade’s forearm away from him and snapping the arm back until it disconnected and dropped lamely. Slade barked out a yell and his eye narrowed. He stepped back as his lower right arm swung lamely against his side. Dick pushed himself to his feet and threw himself into a front-forward flip, bringing his foot down in a heavy kick meant for Slade’s head. Slade dodged and maneuvered away from the persisting attacks easily enough, but most came close to where he could feel the gust of wind behind the powerful moves.

Dick dropped into a couch and swung himself in a tight circle, aiming his leg at Slade’s calves. He followed up with a springing punch and then another high kick. His moves were curt and short, powered by a strange aggression that was better defined as brutal than just angry.

 “What the fuck” Jason breathed.

Tim nodded beside him, “Is there something in the drugs here?” he asked out loud glancing around. Bruce set his sights on the packages around them and the opened crates as well, “The drugs aren't responsible” Kris said as she watched Dick and Slade battle ruthlessly.

“What do you know?” Damian demanded. His gaze was flicking from the fight to the dark-skinned woman like a strobe light.

She glanced at Damian but there was little emotion to be conveyed. Jason didn't like the familiar apathetic response to Dick’s behavior; it spoke volumes of how much they’d seen Dick in similar states in the last 2 years, “This is what the Court of Owls did to him. When he doesn't forcefully tone down the electrum that’s naturally generated internally, it builds up”

“Up and up and up” Jacks added unhelpfully.

“What?” Tim asked with an indented brow, “Dick never acted like this with us? He never had these symptoms of those black veins-”

“Things change, and so do bodies” Ronan snapped coldly.

Kris glanced at him before the group of brothers, “Renegade missed his late teen years and those developmental years hold a lot of hormonal and emotional development for a body; not even including the physical development of young adult males. He’s been forced to catch up on all that he missed when William Cobb subjected his body to who knows what. He’s always been a very reactive and emotional individual, but Cobb’s electrum experiment was still fledging. No one knew this would happen. There’s no way for Dick’s body to know how to regulate or manage the electrum it generates like it does cortisol or testosterone”

“You’re telling me that my son's natural bodily refluxes lead to an overload of electrum in his system and this is what it looks like?” Batman demanded imposingly.

Jason balked, unsure how to be both angry and surprised. Kris nodded, “He has….methods to counter it but you left him overly weak and compromised by administering too much cryo to his system”

“The caves” Damian breathed.

“So you’re saying that Dick stopped taking these electrum inhibitors because that liquid nitrogen shit was too much for him?”

“What is he using to counter the electrum?” Batman growled.

Kris’ cool gaze swung from Redhood to Batman but she didn't reply, looking at the fight as Slade managed to pin Dick.

“If only we had another cold shower, huh?” Jacks said to Kris. 

Dick growled and spat, scratching and clawing at Slade’s uniform. He’s managed to rip some of the fabric that covered Slade in between his armor pieces laying his chest and arms; even denting the armor itself along the shins and chest. Slade was panting with the struggle of having to counter such a flexible crazed person and smashed his elbow down into Dick’s face, giving him a moment to dominate the boy further as Dick lay there wheezing and dazed. His nose was broken and his bottom lip was split from the many attacks he’d taken to the face. Slade kept Dick’s hands pinned to his chest and straddled the young man. He reached behind him and retrieved a small blue capsule with a hair-thin needle attached to it. Slade uncapped the plastic cover from the needle and jammed it into Dick’s neck. The dark-haired man froze and his breath caught before he started jerking and twisting; trying to escape the frigid cold now inside him. His eyes were wide and distant like he was realizing he'd been betrayed but wasn't sure by who.

He bit his lip but couldn't contain the internal sting from overpowering and clenched his eyes, offering a powerful shout before he collapsed in a trembling heap. His chest rose and fell with short quick breaths that came out as more of a pant.

Damian was staring at the scene with wide eyes, “Why-You-You gave him one of those?!” Jason could understand Damian’s shock and anger after Dick made it so clear he despised the liquid and its use on him.

Jacks shrugged, “The compound is half elk tranq. But hey, it’s the fastest acting thing we have”

Falcon, Eerie, and Wildcat approached, encouraging the others to follow. Slade didn't waste any time checking on Dick. He stood up and pulled the young man’s arms with him until he was able to sling Dick over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dick groaned and his eyes fluttered, barely aware of anything beyond the sky and the floor reversing for him.

“Where’s th’ grl” Dick muttered in Vietnamese. A small thump drew the group’s attention as they spotted the most recent bullets popping themselves free from Dick’s torso. 

Batman stared at the way Slade easily held Dick over his shoulder with a hand on the small of his back. Before he could express his displeasure Tim spoke, “Where’s Rose?”

The group seemed to perk at that, realizing that Dick had cleared the way through the compound for them but hadn't found Rose, “I doubt Gao is amongst these bodies” Slade said, “Richard would have interrogated him for Rose’s whereabouts”

Dick groaned weakly and murmured something unintelligible against Slade’s back. Slade made his way over to one of the only non-bloodied areas of the clearing and leaned over, letting Richard slide from his shoulder to sit in a helpless heap on the floor. Slade placed 2 fingers against Dick’s throat before pushing him back to sit against the remaining boxes and crates. Slade pulled his limp arm against his chest and gritted his teeth, before squeezing the arm back against his body and popping the lower ligament back into place to ensure a speedier heal. He looked up to find Batman watching with a steady flat gaze, “We will take him back. He’s beyond done and needs to recover”

Slade hummed thoughtfully, “Is that so? Do you know what my apprentice needs?” His single eye took on a dangerous glint, “You’ll regret the damage this boy causes if you place him amongst those League weaklings. Leave him, we’ll be back through here anyway”

Batman’s nostrils flared momentarily, “We are not leaving him comatose and drugged in the middle of a Vietnamese drug den” he rumbled. Slade rolled his eye, “Fine” he waved a hand like Bruce was being overdramatic, “Eerie” was all he said. Ronan nodded, “Sir” 

He stepped up beside Dick and readied his own sniper rifle from over his shoulder. Slade gave Bruce a bored look as if asking, Are you appeased now?

Batman’s lip curled in response but Redrobin cut them off, “Rose is still our priority. We need to go”

“What does your pinger say?” Jason asked with a sidelong look at Dick’s fluttering eyelashes. He was swallowing constantly and his lips were barely parted like he was trying to speak with someone but could barely keep a conscious train of thought going, much less his eyes open. Tim rolled his eyes at Jason’s pitiful terminology for his equipment. He pulled out his holoscreen and looked for any movement nearby to register as human activity. Just beyond the open dirt courtyard, they were all in registered 3 pings but no one was moving. Slade nodded like he’d expected nothing less, “Gao and Rose, possibly one last gang member as well”

With that said he turned on his heel and strode for the end of the yard where one last door stood to reenter into the compound. Those following behind noticed how he straightened his injured arm more and more like he was flexing a bad sprain. The group followed quickly and Batman could feel the stares of his sons attempting to subdue him into compliance for now. Jason kicked down the door, surprised to find a single holding cell in the back. Rose’s head popped up from behind the bars but just in front of the cell stood 2 men.

"Rose" Tim exclaimed, "Are you alright?"

She smiled and waved, "Hey Tim, Jason" she shrugged, "I'm not awful, but I'm not about to admit to liking this vacation" She spread her arms and Jason snorted.

Slade’s eye crinkled in cruel delight, “Gao” he purred, “What a pleasure to see you again”

Gao was a round man with features too small for his face. His tan skin shone under the single bulb in the far back room as the humidity and his heightened panic caused him to sweat copious amounts. The man held a gun loosely between his fingers but his stance and his comrade's were the embellishment of paralyzing fear. Slade wondered if his bird of prey was able to reduce the killing of Yassen to this state. A quaking trembling mess on the verge of fainting or bladder control loss. Slade grinned and stepped forward only to halt and glance down at where Batman was gripping his elbow, “Don't do anything that can't be undone, Wilson”

Wilson watched the Dark Knight with a calm expression, his cold grey eye was untouched and singular in the way he observed Batman in return; unreadable. Deathstroke moved to pull away and Batman let him after a few moments, accepting that he'd gotten his point across. Slade strode forward but Gao stumbled back twice as far, hitting the cell bars with his back. Rose looked on with a calm depression from behind. Her pale faint hair was matted and clumped all over, save for the bottom right of her hair where someone had obviously hacked away at about 8 inches.

She had nothing to worry about and was likely thinking she was about to have a very interesting show before her. In all the multiverses, there wasn’t one where Gao escaped the combined might of Batman and Deathstroke. Slade continued closer and closer, disregarding the other cowering man in the corner without so much as a glance. Slade crossed his arms and looked down at the small tanned man. For a handful of seconds, complete silence reigned in that small room. Eventually, Slade sighed like he was being given an unasked-for chore. He reached up to the base of his skull and unclasped his helmet, slipping it off and holding it against his hip. Slade Wilson leered down at Gao in a cold unfeeling manner, watching the man, waiting for something.

Eventually, the man spluttered, “I-I’m sorry Slade. It was only business, you know? I was low on the food chain and had so many hire ups to listen to and-”

“You know” Slade interrupted, you should really be thanking my wife”

Multiple brows broke in confusion, “What?” the man asked. Slade corrected himself, “Well, ex-wife now. But that’s beside the point. Someone recently brought it to my attention that it was rather chivalrous of me to allow you so many extra years of life…after you murdered my son and slit my other son’s throat” he pointedly looked at Rose over Gao’s shoulder, and attempted to assassinate my youngest not once, but twice”

The man cringed the way Slade spoke curtly and frigidly, “I-You’re right, It was so nice of you. You’re merciful Slade, really. No one gives you enough credit for-”

“But” Slade continued silkily, like Gao hadn't been speaking, “Seeing as how I tried to honor my ex’ wife’s wishes for less bloodshed by sparing you, it hasn't resulted in the outcome I'd hoped for...in addition to a rather distasteful haircut for my daughter” Slade’s eye narrowed and he leaned in, breathing against the man’s face like a bull that was retraining himself against a red flag, “I’m seeing very few reasons to do so again”

The man gaped and searched for something to say in response, “Wilson” Batman barked, “Enough, take him into custody. Let’s leave”

Rose snorted from where she sat against the wall in her cell. Batman and the others looked to her but the moment they did a wet gurgling sound snapped their attention right back to Slade. In the 2 seconds it took for them to look away, he’d speared the man’s face with a short but thick blade, the hilt largely sticking out from underneath his gaping bloody chin. Slade stepped away and let the man drop into a distorted pile of limbs. Everyone watched in shock as Slade stepped over the mess like he was a trash bag and not a body, reaching out for the simple store-bought padlock keeping Rose contained, “This is why I said you would be better off taking the serum” he admonished Rose lightly. She glared and pushed herself to her feet. She threw her platinum hair over her shoulder, ignoring the rat's nest that it was, “Why? So I can crack skulls like you? No thanks, Mr. I have 4 friends, and 2 of them are my kids”

She walked past Slade and stepped into the hallway, greeting Tim and Jason with friendly smiles. She looked at Jason forwardly, “Thanks for coming”

Jason felt Slade’s eye drilling holes into his skull as his daughter gave him 3 seconds too much attention and he rubbed the back of his neck, “Well you kind of sent distress calls to everyone. It’s no biggie”

She beamed brightly, undeterred by his casualness. Besides Tim and Falcon, Damian made a sound of disgust low in his throat.

“Wilson!” Batman barked. Slade and his team looked to the Dark Knight. Slade rolled his eye, his distaste for Batman’s anger much more visible, “We agreed to get out of here. I merely sped it up”

A thump and slide of clothing drew their attention to the last man standing. He’d feinted against the wall and slid to the floor in a pile of loose limbs, his gun tumbling to his lap. Slade peered down at the man with a flat, disinterested look, “There’s your one saved soul, Wayne” he offered lamely. He placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and made to steer her outside when Batman moved first. He grabbed Slade’s shredded collar and shoved him against the brick and metal wall of the hallway. Flacon and Wildcat had their guns more than partially unseated when Slade flicked a palm up, halting their movements. 

Batman leaned in, his lips thinned and jaw furiously clenched, “You have no right to kill whenever and whoever you want”

“That asshole killed my brother and slit Joey’s throat! Tried to sell me off!” Rose yelled. Batman’s attention flicked to her before back to her father, “Your father has no right to be public judge and executioner”

Slade smirked darkly, “Why is that Wayne? Just because you weren't allowed to dictate what happened to your parents’ murderer doesn't mean the rest can't protect their families”

“You haven't protected anyone-especially those that wanted to stick around-”

Bruce was barely finished speaking when Salde was moving against him. His helmet clattered to the floor as he gripped a handful of Batman’s lower cowl and threw them forward. Batman stumbled back but regained his footing and pushed back until the men were equally shoving against each other; almost in a headbutt stance. Slade’s cold grey eye was wide and fiery, like silver lava, “Don't you dare suggest I di-”

“Where’s Dick?” Rose asked, just now noticing that the acrobat was missing. She’d spotted her father’s torn suit and collar, which was rare enough as it is, but the man seemed fine. She looked around and spotted Falcon and Wildcat, “You must be Dick’s babysitters” She joked, “Dick complains like an old maid about you guys” She laughed, “I hate that I love em’” she mimicked in a deeper voice.

Falcon and Wildcat stayed quiet, save for a small dip of their heads to the Colonel’s daughter. When Rose looked away, both soldiers’ eyes met in a knowing way.

“Father, we must retrieve Richard,” Robin said. Batman seemed intent on gripping Slade’s torn suit for the rest of eternity if only to prove to the man that he couldn't maneuver people around him like discardable chess pieces. Slade Wilson treated the world like a 4-year-old cherished toys. Either possessively, or not at all.

He was hesitant to begin anything that could injure his boys in such cramped quarters though. Bruce snarled lowly in the man’s face, “You are not free from the consequences of your actions, Wilson”

He let go with a rough shove that pushed Slade back a few steps. The man smiled like Bruce had wished him a pleasant afternoon, “He’s outside waiting for us,” Slade said. Something in his tone must have clued her into the severity of Dick’s absense and she frowned before rushing back out the only entrance. The blood along her arms and the cuts lining her cheeks were already healing, leaving red marks or faint white lines behind. The 2 groups followed her close behind and found Dick where they’d left him. He was slightly more slumped than before, his head and neck relying on the corner of a cocaine packing box to support him. His hands were limp in his lap and his feet were spread out in front of him like a doll. Beside him, stood Ronan like an immovable Roman statue.

Rose gasped when she neared him and the sound jolted Dick. He inhaled sharply and looked around with wide glassy eyes. His yellow eyes were as bright as ever but he calmed slightly, and seemed to become resubdued by the drugs in his system, at the sight of Rose. His breathing calmed somewhat and he relaxed back against the large wooden crates.

“Dick” Rose breathed with wide eyes. She’d seen his golden irises plenty of times. Dick’s inability to control and manually fluctuate his hormones in a controlled manner led to his eyes changing color aspects multiple times a day before he picked up his morning routine. Despite that, she’d never seen Dick as he was now. With blood coating his figure and neck, and black inky veins dragging themselves up his chest and into his jaw. She frantically scanned his figure, noting similar hints of black along his fingertips and wherever else bare skin showed through his black uniform. His hair was dull and lacked its usual shine beneath the blood and sweat. His eyes became heavily lidded again and he swallowed, putting obvious effort into staying cognizant and aware of his environment again.

“What’s wrong with him?” She uttered to Slade. She dropped to her knees, cringing at the bruises covering her legs, and reached for Dick. He hummed at the contact and tried to focus on her past the fogginess that was swaying his mind like a gentle current. She looked back to Slade when he didn't answer, when nobody did.

The entire group looked to Slade, expecting and demanding answers silently. The mercenary only had eyes for his youngest and his heir though, “You know what the Court put him through” he said simply.

She furrowed her brow, “Yea, but-”

“This is the result when too much is pent up” Slade directed his attention pointedly to Dick as if that alone was an answer. 

Rose gaped, “What the fuck does that mean, Dad? Look at him!” she exclaimed angrily.

“We’re curious too, to be honest” Jason added unhelpfully.

Slade ignored the others and kept his sights on his white-haired daughter, “There are many reasons you don’t live with me year round”

Rose’s expression broke slightly at the reminder, “Yeah, I know”, irritation was quick to cover up.

Slade’s stern expression offered her something new, “Richard was the one to suggest this visitation lifestyle. This is one of the most prominent reasons why” he said simply. She and everyone else looked back to Dick as he fought sleep between longer and longer blinks. 

 

Chapter 17

Notes:

Hey there! Not much happens this ch but some emotions do take place...again lol. It's also my way or justifying Rose being around more hahaha

Dick swallowed as nausea lodged itself in the back of his throat and the roof of his mouth like a tarantula, large and obtrusive. His throat was dry and any attempts to move his tongue sent a twinge of queasiness rolling through his throat, “Mmmmmgh” he groaned miserably. His ears were stuffed and his skin was overheated, offering Dick a strange reminder of the times Roy had gotten him and Wally drunk behind Bruce’s back.

“MmmWillllll” Dick moaned. A strange sound made its way to Dick’s ears as if trying to respond to his call, but not being able to break past his muffled senses, “Willll” he groaned miserably, hoping his voice was coming as loud as it sounded to him. The older man always knew what to do when Dick was unwell, similar to Alfred his character held a fine balance between military experience and soft caring empathy. Dick registered that same sound again and hoped it was footsteps, “I’m here, my boy. How are you feeling?”

Dick offered a pathetic chuckle, “Sht” he muttered lamely. A calloused cold palm laid itself over his forehead and he sighed, letting the older man know how much the touch was appreciated, “Can you open your eyes, Richard?”

Dick frowned, not wanting to even try. While he mustered the energy to obey the older British man, he vaguely registered the sensation of his bed dipping. The material beneath his back was tight and reminded him of a camping cot, something that wasn't meant for comfort but moreso the ease of having a quick single bed for out in the field. Dick felt confusion flit through him, why would he be on a cot? Where was his bed? Will rarely ever let him just sleep on the couch.

He forced his eyes open, cringing at the disgusting feeling of sleep in his eyes. He moved to wipe his face and grumbled in exaggerated irritation when he smacked his nose instead. A sharp throb resonated through his nose with such urgency and unexpectedness that Dick found himself gasping, sitting up quicker. He cupped his nose and mouth, “What the fu-” he groaned registering what must be a broken nose.

His bed felt weird, his body was showing signs and symptoms of being sick, it was all too much and too boggling. Dick turned to ask Will what the hell was going on when he spotted Damian; or rather Robin. The dark-haired boy was watching him with a face so distressed, that his domino mask was creasing severely down the bridge of his nose. Dick did a double take as he registered the back of airplane seats in front of him. He looked down and realized he was on a medical cot; one of the grey ones Slade kept on every vehicle he owned. They folded up nicely into 3 short sections and the man refused to buy from any other brand. Dick had teased him that he was like an old white dad in his company loyalty to a small Swiss company, but the man had merely bought the company, ensuring the cot would continue to be manufactured. 

Dick slowly lowered his hand from his face as he gazed at his youngest brother, his smallest Robin, “What the-”

Dick scanned the area in front of him and registered more than he was able to mentally process. Behind Damian stood Batman and Redrobin. Beside them stood Eerie and Jacks and Redhood. To their side, closer to Dick Slade, Rose, and Falcon, were hovering over Wintergreen who was kneeling at Dick’s side.

He must’ve inhaled too much and upset his delicate stomach because the moment he opened his mouth, Dick felt his stomach regurgitating everything it still had. Against his will, his shoulders caved and he found himself face down in a small trashcan.

Despite everything and everyone around him, Dick’s hazy mind acutely wondered, What the fuck is that doing here?

“Let it out, lad” Wintergreen patted his nape. Normally, Dick wouldn't have cared how vulnerable Wintergreen was seeing him. The old man did a wonderful job of not mentioning how black his blood and guts were or how annoying his mood swings could be at times. Not only could the older man do very little to harm him, but he trusted him to care for him just as Alfred had. Kindred souls, those old white guys.

Now though, Dick couldn't force away the tense way his muscles clenched under the eyes of Batman and his team. He felt smaller than he was and the burning acidness in his throat, which brought tears to his eyes, wasn't helping anything in the slightest. He gasped after his 3rd heave when something brushed his bare arm. Dick jumped violently in surprise, looking up to find Damian far closer than before. Damian’s gaze seemed to be lunging across every inch of his face, looking for something…no, examining something. Dick felt his face flush as he reached up for his cheeks, feeling the faintest hint of raised skin. Dreading the obvious, he followed it down, feeling the same sensation continue down his jaw and along his throat; not similar to how a scar felt years after it healed.

Dick swallowed, forcing the taste of bile down, “I-” his eyes jumped to his master, searching for an order, reassurance, something to take the responsibility of autonomy from his hands. His eyes found Rose just beside him and he blinked, “Rose!”

She glowered, “What the fuck, Dick!” Dick blinked, stunned, “You can't just throw yourself into gun fights, knowing this can happen” She gestured to his whole body and Dick glanced down, a tad stupified. He’d been redressed into sweats and a plant t-shirt, but his newly bare arms made his disgustingly dark veins all the more visible. 

Dick didn't know what to do, what to say, and the jet cabin fell into silence. He glanced up at Slade but the man, even unmasked, was stony and expressionless. Dick figured the man would use this as a chance to punish him for running off, “Sorry, Rose” he muttered. He gleaned back up, “Are you alright?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m always alright, but that's not the point!” she jabbed a finger in his chest, "What the fuck haven't you been telling me?”

“You and me both” Jason snapped. Dick looked between them before Damian’s large green eyes finally won. Dick heaved a trembling sigh, struggling with the pounding fogginess that refused to offer his brain clarity, as he looked up at his younger brother, “Do you remember what happened, Richard?”

Dick didn't have the heart to look away, to take one more thing frond Damian's control, “No” he whispered. 

“Nothing?” Batman demanded.

He licked his lips as he sought for the right words, “I-I remember how I felt before….angry, and” his gaze flickered to Rose’s rat nest of hair, “I found some of your hair and…I’m not sure, I-” His skin prickled and his mind struggled desperately for clarity as he seemed to come to the conclusion, far too slowly, that he was surrounded by his brothers and Bruce in Slade's jet.

“This has happened before though?” Damian persisted. It wasn't a question. Dick nodded but remained silent. Damian clenched his fists and stepped forward angrily, “Richard” He said in exasperation. 

Dick’s head was still pounding and his throat hurt. His body still felt like he had an internal sunburn and he couldn't ignore how everyone was staring him down, equivalent to the antichrist, “What?” he snapped, “What do you want from me? I’ve been gone 2 years-how can you expect, no demand, to know everything about me when it bothered you all too much to talk about it when I was around!”

Jason scoffed, “Don't fucking pull this Dickhead, you were either too angry or skittish to talk about too. The old man was the one pushing for you to talk about everything-”

“No” Dick snapped back, his eyes as bright and yellow as ever, “He wanted answers that I didn't have, to issues that weren't about helping me”

“Dick, we're not trying to hurt you or cause you stress but what we saw is an obvious issue” Tim tried softly, “Is the electrum killing you? What are with these blackouts? You were unreachable back there and-”

Dick smiled sadly, reflecting Tim’s efforts to be polite and cordial, “No Timmy,” he said, “Unfortunately, it’s not killing me. Quite the opposite. Who knew too much life was a bad thing” He pushed himself to his feet, “In fact-”

All thought fled his lips as the world titled and black scratched at the corners of his sight, clawing inward from the outside with all its might. Dick stumbled and reached forward for anything to support him. He grasped something that grabbed him back just as Ronan reached for him. Dick's instincts screeched at him over the quick movement from someone who was a proven possible threat in his subconscious, “Don't touch me” Dick snarled reflexively. Ronan halted and watched Dick apprehensively. Dick took in large inhales to try and force his feet to firm up beneath him. He gripped his support more firmly but jolted when he heard a hiss. Dick looked down to where his left arm and side were clutching Robin. Robin was clutching him back but his domino mask lenses were wide and set religiously on Dick. They watched each other when suddenly Dick couldn't contain it, the itch in his fingers and palms had faded with his mindless adrenaline and the rage of his past self. Now, they tingled and yearned for the younger bird before him. Dick was a breath away from, reaching for Damian, from clutching the younger boy tight enough to soothe any longing and aching that still persisted. Suddenly it seemed like all Dick needed in life. Like hugging the dark-haired boy before him tightly enough would soothe the painful fire in his chest. All he had to do was keep squeezing and squeezing until the rage and feelings of lost depravity were forced out of him through his own pores.

“Renegade” Slade’s voice shattered Dick’s hazy focus and he snapped his head up, spinning round to see Slade watching him. He knew from the simple unfeeling look that Slade was not only displeased with him but unsure of how much Dick would do if left to his own devices. He swallowed, “Master”

Wintergreen traded looks between the two men and sighed, “Richard needs rest. I’m aware of the contract you all have made so while I must insist on your departure from our small aircraft…rest assured you will still have contact with us moving forward”

Dick found he couldn't look at anyone while plans were made around him. Wintergreen guided him back down to the cot and Dick allowed it. The bodies around him moved and shifted, obeying the Dark Knight and Deathstroke and Terminator's orders adeptly. Dick kept his face down and out of the way of any straying eyes. He knew he was in deep shit with Slade. The man would've no doubt given Dick some pathetic superficial punishment for disobeying him and running off to Rose on his own. Looking back, Dick’s hazy memory could only corroborate the anger and sorrow he’d felt before setting off on his own. Slade might've even forgiven him for not keeping him informed of how close he was to tipping over the edge. But now…Slade would no doubt have half a mind to concoct some vicious plan on how to demoralize and punish Dick for his display of weakness. If Dick had listened to Slade, he knew Slade might've even been gleeful at having Bruce and his brothers witness him in all his uncontained and uncontrolled glory; his own black-haired yellow-eyed monster. But Slade would no doubt hold it against Dick for allowing Damian to have such a transparent sway over him. To have allowed the younger boy to silence him, earn his undivided attention, touch him no matter how long or profound; any amount was always too much in Slade’s mind; Dick knew this, his teammates knew this…..Jacks' missing finger momentarily came to the forefront of his mind and Dick bit his lip, more determined to avoid any other messes by avoiding eye contact.

As if to challenge his internal determination, a pair of dark brown combat boots planted themselves before Dick’s field of view. Dick chanced a look up to see Jason staring down at him. He could feel his younger brother’s ire even through the helmet. Dick offered a weak smile, but the monotonous way Jason refused to budge, quickly dissipated the smile. He sighed and dropped his neck, letting it hand below his shoulders. Jason crouched down and removed his helmet, earning Dick’s attention again. Jason watched Dick with a strange unreadable attentiveness. He glanced over his shoulder as others moved about, “B is trying his damndest not to cause a scene for the sake of Slade’s and Supe’s stupid business contact” Jason said.

Dick glanced over Jason’s shoulder before dropping his eyes quickly. Jason sighed after a few moments, “What’s actually wrong Dick?”

Dick shrugged and Jason growled. He pushed himself to his feet and reached for something at the foot of Dick’s cot, dragging it to the both of them, “Fine, if I have to pull answers like teeth, I will”,  Dick realized a second too later that it was his personal duffle bag, “Jay, don-”

Jason yanked the bag open with an aggressiveness that spilled a handful of things out the side. Dick watched with stuttered breaths as Jason stared down at the familiar tin of blue, “The fuck?”

Jason reached for the small blue compact makeup container. He flipped it open to see a small amount of bright blue powder still left. Jason smiled in wild amazement, “We didn't fucking make you OD” he said in realization. He looked to Dick, who only had eyes for the blue powder in Jason’s palm, “You’ve been dosing yourself this whole time? This is how you’ve been fucking managing yourself?”

Dick gritted his teeth at Jason’s tone, despising the disgust that layered his words. He stood quickly and shoved at Jason, forcing him to stumble over his helmet at his feet, “You got a problem, Jay? Because last I checked, you didn't seem to have a problem with abnormal methods to control my behavior”

Jason's eyes widened before they narrowed in equal disdain. He opened his mouth and stepped forward when Damian spoke, “You’ve been wearing contacts?”

Dick whipped round to see Damian crouched before the rest of his spilled belongings. The youngest Robin held a contact container and his brow was broken in confusion as he stared at Dick. Redrobin gently plucked them from Damian’s hand and twisted one of the caps off, “Blue contacts” he stated.

Jason, Tim, and Damian all stared at Dick in realization. Batman had stopped from where he stood leaning into Wilson’s personal space with an aggression that would rival a grizzly bear, “Dick” he said, “This isn't managing your symptoms, this is covering them up-”

Dick couldn't stand the way Bruce looked at him, couldn't stand the way his cheeks heated and his ears burned beneath the stares of everyone in the small jet’s cabin. He snapped, “This” he pointed to his belongings, “Is whatever I want it to be!”

He took a step forward, stepping on his bag and forcing Jason back, “Don't you dare act like you want to see the real me. It’s a fuking mess and you couldn't even handle a quarter of it when you had the chance!”

“Dick-”

Dick saw red, unsure if the thumping across his skin was a sign of those wretched inky black veins reimaging or something else. He moved to storm across the way and-and…he wasn't sure what he would do but silencing his adopted father, silencing those familiar domino masks from staring him down and penetrating his chest with guilt felt like a necessity at the moment, “Apprentice” Slade barked scornfully. Dick bared his teeth in response, too angry to abide by the cozy hierarchy that he’d grown into under the man in recent years. Slade frowned slightly but nodded to someone just behind Dick. Before he realized it, Ronan stood at his back and a thin edge was pressed into the soft flesh of his neck. Dick halted, realizing what Ronan most likely had at his throat; it was too thin to be a blade. He clenched his jaw and forced all his energy into his eyes, informing Slade just how furious he was. He felt barren and humiliated, embarrassed, and shameful and Slade just pulled rank on his subordinate to threaten him with the very substance that controlled his life and his brother's view of him. he was beyond pissed. With his master, with Bruce, and his nosey brothers, with the world for not giving Dick a break. Slade stared him down with equal intensity. Without looking at their guests Slade spoke, “I think you’ve outstayed your welcome Batman. Richard is at the end of his rope”

“We aren't leaving now that you’ve got Dick at gunpoint” Redrobin snapped.

Slade snarled, a break in his controlling facade and persona, “You will if you value any self-respect and honor this pathetic boy still has left”

Dick’s brothers jerked to look at him as if they could spot his dignity dripping from his pores, “My apprentice has disobeyed my orders on multiple accounts today. On top of that, he’s in need of recuperation because of circumstances that you cannot even begin to fathom the genuine reality of. You. Will. Leave” he hissed. His attention and steely blue gaze stayed latched onto Dick the entire time, entrapping Dick in a way that found his heartbeat calming, his breathing regulating, beneath Ronan’s bear hug of a cruel embrace. Dick watched as his brothers argued between themselves and Rose. He wasn't sure who to focus on. Damian seemed to want to argue with someone else while looking at Dick and Tim and Jason were itching to get at Slade’s throat for threatening Dick with so much ease. Beyond them all, near the front of the cabin, Dick found himself unable to look past Bruce’s face. His cowl was unreadable and his lips were thinned; as always. Dick searched his masked face for something, anything to combat the betrayal Bruce had thrown into his face for the world to see. 

After so long of searching for him, after so many attempts to convince Dick to come home and be with his family…..all of Bruce’s efforts to convince Dick that he could be the father he was needed to be and look past any and all of Dick’s violence; his transgressions. Dick searched Bruce’s face for anything to line up with his fading hope. After so long of promising one just to turn around and label him blacklisted for life; Dick wasn't sure if it was because Bruce was giving up on him or if he was through putting effort into such a fallible lie. Had Bruce ever believed in Dick like his brothers had?

Had Dick ever held the same passion for anything Dick produced, like Damian did?

Did Bruce ever wonder and weigh his actions on what Dick would think, like Tim did?

Did Bruce ever remind himself of the importance behind mercy and intimacy merely because he hoped Dick would look at him in a better light for it? Just like Jason did?

Dick despaired, straining against the hold Ronan had on him from behind. He needed something, anything from Bruce to prove Dick wrong. To prove that Bruce had merely given in to the League’s demands for inner organization political structure for the sake of his mission to get Dick back. He needed to see Bruce's promise and commitment, something to promise Dick that no matter how hard he pushed his family away. he would still have something to come back to. Something to verify that Dick had someone willing to offer him unconditional love.

Dick scanned Bruce’s structured face, searching.

 

A twitch?

 

A small smile?

 

His fingertips tapping in their familiar 3 language-based morse code?

A nod?

Bruce turned away to answer a niggling Damian at his side, “We’ll be in contact, Wilson. Don't expect any leniency in this relationship” Dick smothered the dry sob that logged in his throat.

Slade dipped his head in mild amusement, “I understand contractual relationships rather well, Wayne”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Are you sure you wanna come with us?” Jason asked as they left Wilson’s private jet. Rose nodded, “Dad would only force me back to some safe house. Once I’m in North America I can pick and choose from the nicer ones. Might even stop by and say hi to Joey” she replied, “Dont worry, even if my dad made a show of wanting me to stay, we both know it would only last a week; maybe a month”

Damian and Tim were silent while Bruce led them south back towards their own resting aircraft. They weren't far into their trek back when a loud crash jerked them to look behind them. Slade’s aircraft sat still and ominous, but the roaring bellow from within followed by another 2 crashes and thuds silenced them all; even the jungle seemed to shush its wildlife for a second.

Rose looked away, “He’ll be fine,” she said, breaking their silence, “Dad never lets him get too far out of control”

Tim simmered darkly, “What we saw back there was the definition of out of control” 

Rose looked away, “I’ll admit, the look is new..even to me. But I don't even have to be there to know that whatever happens is all a game to my dad” She rubbed her shoulder before cringing at the feel of her own hair, “He was probably messing with you to, I dunno, scare you. This doesn't sound like a new development if my dad and his team were prepared to handle it so quickly”

“So Deathstroke’s playing with Richard?” Damian spat, “How is that any better, in any way, than the help we were trying to give him!?

Rose’s brow creased as she looked at Damian. She’d never been particularly close with the younger boy, but knew his existence and upkeep was what Dick’s attention had circled around for a majority of his teen years; even now, the way that Dick went out of his way to keep tabs on Damian was synonymously high maintenance. 

“Dami-an” Dick had almost never called Damian by his full name and she suddenly felt like she was overstepping a boundary by using it without Dick present, “Dick never left because he thought you guys weren't, like, helping him or anything”

Batman turned to face her fully, as did Tim, spurring her on, “What the fuck has been going on between you guys this whole time?”

“That’s what we wanna know!” Tim exclaimed, “Dick’s been running from us and won't explain anything and-”

“No, no” Rose shook her head, “You” she gestured to Tim and his brothers, “Do you think Dick accepted my dad’s training because you weren't enough?”

Jason threw up his hands in frustration, “If you don't start explaining right-fucking-now”

She glared, “Why should I?! You should already know what’s up!”

Jason balked in a combination of astonishment and rage. Rose laughed unironically, “That jerk-look,” she said, “Dick fucking smashes your face in right?”

Jason felt the spotlight hit him square in the face and he cringed slightly, “Yea, the fucker had a mean right hook in the middle of a fight. He thought I was one of the Shadow assholes trying to kidnap the demon brat”

“And then he proceeded to kill like 6 of those same kidnappers,” Rose said slowly, like she was walking something through something painfully obvious. No one spoke and Rose snapped, “He left to protect you!”

Jason threw back his head, “What a fucking joke, did he tell you that? Did your daddy?”

“Yes!” Rose snapped back, “He did! They both did! Dick did in fact tell me that he decided to accept my dad’s offer to train him after he murdered men from Damian’s mother’s team and then almost murdered you!”

Jason’s outraged smile was slowly slipping away, “What?” Tim asked, “Dick couldn't have been that dumb” Rose glared and Tim spoke, “No seriously, Rose. Dick thought we couldn't handle him? That he was a danger to us?”

Rose nodded, “That's what he said” she supplied hesitantly.

Tim looked at a loss for words, glancing between Jason and Batman.

“Is it really that hard to believe Dick was worried for you guys? I mean this is Dick” she said plainly, "I know the Court kidnapped him when he was finishing high school and came back non-human anymore. Why wouldn't he be scared?"

“Well, yea,” Tim said, “But Dick was more violent when we first found him a year before that and he came back to us and-and”

“We thought we drove him off with a small miscommunication; a fuck up if you will,” Jason said awkwardly.

Rose’s brow rose, “Ooooooh, that, yea, that did piss him off, but” She glanced at Batman quickly, “Destroying the Court and the frozen talons was his biggest issue honestly. But besides all that, he was, still thinks he can't be around you guys. Can you blame him? You all looked like you’d seen a ghost when we went back for him”

“He killed the entire compound” Damian breathed. Rose looked at him and was a second away from reassuring him, calming the younger boy by saying, “Dont worry there were only like 20 or 30 men here”

He’s handled more, was on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated seeing how the small massacre was enough to stun the young assassin boy.

“Yeah, well, you can see that hasn't gotten any better. Maybe he was right to not stick around if this is how the electrum would've grown to react within him”

“And Deatshtroke was the better option?” Jason demanded.

Rose watched the brothers with bated breath, “You don't get it, do you? You’re actually too hurt by Dick’s actions to see what he’s thinking”

“He won't tell us what he’s thinking!” Jason all but raged.

“Jason, if Dick’s future was this…chaos one way or another, I think it’s obvious that he’d much rather he’d hurt my dad than you guys”

Damian’s voice hitched from where he stood staring back down into the jungle. Rose watched him before looking at Batman. The way he was watching her was too statuesque; it reminded her of how her father looked moments before he fell into a wrathful rage. She’d only ever noticed it a few times, but her father’s behavior before his temper snapped is what helped her understand what the calm before a storm meant.

She looked at the brothers with a confused and startled expression, “I-I can't believe you guys thought Dick just ditched you, this whole time. He-how could you think that of him? I knew you were tracking him back down but I thought you were actually aware of why he’d gone with my dad and just disagreed”

“Oh, we disagreed alright” Jason muttered.

“Rose, Dick never said anything to us” Tim explained with wide eyes, “We-we messed up with the phrasing of our words, like he might've told you, and then Bruce’s secret exploded in our faces, but we never had a chance to talk because Talia tried kidnapping Damian. We were fighting and by the time it was all over, Dick and Deathstroke were gone and we thought it was because of us”

Rose cocked her head and avoided his intense blue gaze, “Well, it kind of was, but it's clear you had the wrong idea”

“My dad explained to him how this was all inevitable and I think almost killing Jason is what got through to him. He explained how if Dick didn't die as a teenager and initiated the electrum production in his bloodstream then it would've happened when he died as an old man or maybe even just years later as Nightwing. Dick wanted to get a handle on it before it was too late and his lack of self-control scared him” She looked at Tim, imploring him to understand.

“That douchebag thinks too highly of himself. It was a sucker punch, not that big of a deal” Jason growled.

Rose jolted, “You idiot! It was a head injury! You’re lucky he didn't put you in a coma. It was obviously bad enough to scar and you had fucking pit water in your veins”

Jason ran his tongue over his bottom lip, feeling the familiar indent where his split lip had healed badly. It was a tick he’d tried to outgrow as it was plainly obvious and made him feel vulnerable.

“We need to go back!” Damian gasped. His mask lenses were wide and he was looking back into the trees, “We-we need to get Richard and explain that everything will be ok and-”

“And what?” Tim asked with a touch of hopelessness, “Tell him the same things we’ve been telling him? That it'll be fine and Slade isn't good for him?” Tim ran a hand through his short hair, “Don't get me wrong, I’m glad this happened” he gestured to Rose, “But what does it really change? Dick left us” Tim said sorrowfully.

Damian narrowed his eyes, “We let him go” he spat, “Richard would never leave us. Never” 

“Even if this is true” Jason butted in, “What the fuck was his plan? Just get a handle on whatever the fuck this electrum shit is doing to him and then come back with an apology card?”

Rose shrugged helplessly, “Obviously I’m as out of the loop as you are. Dick and Dad only ever come to see me on breaks at my aunt’s village, but that” her gaze seemed unfocused for a second, “That stuff on his face and chest were all new to me”

“He could be getting worse” Tim breathed.

“Deathstroke is making him worse! We need to go back now!” Damian cried. He moved to turn but Jason gripped his shoulder, halting him, “Woah, woah speedy Gonzalez. You already tried to get Dick on your last one-on-one”

“He didn't know that we knew! We understand now!” Damian argued with a wet hitch to his voice. Jason was glad he’d thrown his helmet back on as they left so the kid couldn't see his own features break, “What will you do Damian?” he asked calmly, “Tell Dick that we invaded his privacy again? That we still want him back when he’s obviously still pissed and hurt and now convinced that he's gotta be some pathetic self-sacrificial lamb that nobody asked for”

His tone turned vicious and malignant within one word and he turned on Batman, “The stupid fucking lamb mentality that you raised” Jason snarled.

Batman looked at Jason before looking back into the jungle as well, “He’s right” he said.

Jason balked, “Could you be even more vague? There are literally 3 other ‘hims' here”

“you,” Bruce said, seemingly the calmest of their frazzled group. Bruce turned to his other sons just as they attempted to protest and interject, "Dick is coming home. One way or another, but dragging him away or fighting Wilson for him is not the way to go. If Dick truly feels how you put it” he said to Rose, “ Then we need to allow him to make these mistakes for now. Stripping him of his choices when he feels caged enough to make this kind of decision will only corner him more and make him more of a risk of running”

Jason growled, "What fucking bullshit!" He stepped close to Bruce and grabbed him just as Slade had, "You were spouting all that shit about how Slade is gonna ruin him and how we need to separate them no matter what. What happened to that speech? You changing your tune now that you're seeing how inhuman he really is?!"

Bruce's hands snapped out and ripped Jason's helmet from his head, baring his face and scrunched domino mask. He clasped the sides of Jason's head like a priest clutches his bible, "I am not giving up" he snarled into Jason's face, "None of us are. Dick is your brother. He is my son. I will not rest until he is home and safe and content. Even if I die of old age attempting to set things right. Your brother deserves a life that he desires. That he wants. I know he doesn't want this path of destruction. The chaos that Slade has integrated into his reality. But he is lost and scared and capable of causing so much more harm than before. He is doing his best to mitigate it by choosing Wilson over us. I am putting my faith in him by believing he is doing this for our sake, but we need to be there for him. We cannot afford to strip Dick of his choices and autonomy any further. If Wilson doesn't run him back to us with his barbaric treatment then he'll see the truth eventually. Our loyalty and perseverance to him will help him see that”

Jadon was breathing just as heavily and he clutched Bruce back, "I love your brother more than anything," Bruce said and his voice held a deepness that was never used for intimidation purposes. Jason hoped Bruce held that same reverence when he spoke at his funeral years ago. The same one Dick hadn't been able to attend because Bruce pushed him away. Jason swallowed, "You've fucked up" he forced out, "Dick is bound to find out about the black list and everything else"

Bruce looked to his other side to find Tim and Damian watching him closely.  He reached out and dragged them both to his side with one long arm. His dark cape encased his robins in a veil of warmth and shadows, "I know" he rumbled, "But we will fix that when we can. Dick is more of a priority to me than Nightwing ever will be, you boys are not your titles and neither is Dick. I want him to survive this, not just to survive for his reputation as a vigilante”

Jason scoffed but he only seemed to grip Bruce’s hand back even tighter, "You're a fucking hypocritical asshole" Bruce squeezed back as well, desperate for the rare connection that Jason offering him; the tether that had been so lost and ambiguous between them for years, “You need to trust me,” he said gruffly, “The Justice League’s mission will end when the Light is subdued. Our mission will not end until your brother is home and safe”

Beneath his cape Damian clutched Bruce tight enough to feel beneath his armor, “And content” he added in a muffled voice. Bruce imagined this way how Damian regularly hugged Dick when no one else was around and privy to their deep bond. Bruce kept one hand against Jason's face and laid his chin on Tim's soft dark locks, regretful that it had taken Dick's atrocities and pain to bring his sons under his arms like this again.

One day, he swore internally. He'd have all 4 sons within his arms and all would be well. He would play Wilson's game for now. He would do whatever it took to ensure Dick's survival and bring his son home in one piece. Bruce Wayne was a father but he was also Batman, the world's greatest detective, and a detective's second nature was to play the long hard game. Rose watched the family clutch either like their lives depended on it. It was rare enough to see anyone get within arms reach of Jason, but to see him mutually clinging to someone was a sight to behold. The only time she could ever remember him hugging anyone was Dick.

She looked back into the forest, hearing the distant rumble of preflight checklist engines begin, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Dad”

She despised her dad on good days, and resented him on the bad ones. Her stepmother and half-brothers were her world until Dick came along, then Jason and even Tim managed to worm their way past her enhanced defenses. But at the end of the day, she knew that she could always rely on her father to prioritize her in life. She wasn't so naive and immature as to not see that her father was a toxic and horribly self-maintained asshole, but he was old enough to spot his mistakes and the snowball effect his actions and chosen line of work had brought down on his family and loved ones. She knew this was why she could demand and expect the literal world from Slade Wilson and he would deliver in reasonable time.  Sometimes, it made it easier for her to disregard the love and devotion she knew he was acting under, because sometimes his actions were transcribed as possessive and controlling instead of loving and protective. It certainly seemed that way with Dick t times, but the dark-haired acrobat had dismayed any objections she presented early on; reinforcing the fact that he had chosen her father and was staying until he had leeched off at least a quarter of the ridiculous self-control the mercenary levied with every second of every day.

Dick was a sore subject for her. She didn't have the heart to admit it to anyone besides her brother, because only he could understand, that in a world where only she, her brother, and stepmother were the world’s deadliest killer’s priority, it was hard to understand how Dick Grayson could top them time and time again.

It was obvious too, inevitable that a situation would arise to prove Rose’s doubts and fears to everyone around her and her brother. Slade Wilson would sell the world to keep his distant family happy and content, but not if it cost him his prized bird. The destruction and chaos her father had reigned down upon her and her family, leaving her with a target on her back and bleached hair for eternity was something he could look past because at least the man put his inhuman skills to use when she requested it. But Dick Grayson was not a risk he was willing to lose. He might've accepted some distance between them as Dick transitioned from Robin to Nightwing, from childhood into adulthood, but she knew her dad never went a day without knowing what grades his bird was getting at Gotham prep., or what nights he snuck out to drink with Wally West and Roy Harper. Her dad was addicted to Dick like he was the only drug that could break down his enhanced immune system and knock him off his feet. Her dad treated Dick like a drug that was bad for him, but the experience was rejuvenating and world-shattering enough for him to want, need, more. 

But Dick Grayson was light personified. The first thing he did when he met her was hug her and promptly kidnap her less than 24 hours later. He’d brought her to a warehouse in jump and demanded to know if Slade was doing anything she wasn't consenting to. He wanted to know if he was training her to kill or restricting her from seeing Addie. Rose was shocked; stunned. She’d met the gorgeous, soft-eyed, hard-edged young man and instantly hated him only to realize it was unjustifiable to do so. His heart was too big, too open. It wasn't even his own heart, it beat and worked for those around him. Slade found them less than 4 hours later and beat Dick into unconsciousness, but when he woke up, he spit out a back right molar and smiled, glad to see that she was alright after all.

It was a strange dilemma she found herself in where she was unable to hate the man who her father placed above her. She’d only told Joey once, when she was younger and he’d merely smiled and offered her a hug. He signed, “Dick has a way of pissing people off and I think this is how he’ll get to you" he joked. She wasn't sure how to respond but she finally admitted, “I'm glad that the one person he would choose over us would kill him for doing so”

Joey didn't smile at that.

Chapter 18

Notes:

lol, sorry this is the shortest and one of the saddest yet-also kind of a filler since I can't integrate alfred into field missions very easily

“I see, sir” Alfred replied. His grandsons were scattered throughout at the moment. Timmothy was downstairs on the bat computer, Damian was most likely training in isolation-a spare room at Mount Justice, and Jason was either isolating himself as well or with Roy Harper. Alfred had never cared much for Wallace West or Roy Harper but over the years he’d come to find he had a particular vested interest in both redheads as they were a crucial point of affection for his oldest boys. They’d started off as friends with Richard as the first side kicks-their relationship had the potential to turn detrimental quickly. Both Richard and Wallace were head over heels for the cool older boy they’d been paired with. He smoked cigarettes behind his uncle's back and always in front of the boys. He spouted off every curse word he could remember, and he put in a visible effort to never appear awed by anything too serious. Years later, when the trilogy pair had grown and accepted more responsibilities, Jason entered Wayne Manor. After Richard had, quite quickly gotten over his resentment of the boy’s presence, he’d introduced him to Wallace and Roy first. 

Although in retrospect, Alfred was willing to bet his position and pay that Richard learned to smother his feelings for Jason Todd quicker than he learned to accept them. Roy and Jason got on rather quickly and rather well. Both boys had come from rougher backgrounds than the rest and both had been encouraged to grow up in an unseemly way before Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne intervened. Alfred soon found that he made dinner in 4’s and 5’s despite only having 3 manor occupants. The boys were close but could not have been more different. Wallace always had much maturing left to do; always more interested in a good laugh or an entertaining hobby over anything else. Roy had no other young adults or friends to aspire to be in their community so his own struggles and hardships were dealt with day by day, and very poorly at that. Alfred knew he was biased but stood by his opinion that Master Dick was by far the more well-rounded boy between the 3. He was charming and intellectual, he had ambition, and an overabundant capacity for empathy; even before he was brought into the world of crime fighting. Much later on, when Richard disappeared into the night to support Roy Harper and his spiraling drug addictions, Alfred would forever be grateful for whatever he did to earn his oldest grandson’s trust. Bruce had been fret with worry and anger over the boy disappearing with only a note that he’d be back. 

Unknownst to him, Richard was messaging Alfred when he could and updating him on where he was. Richard may have been a brash and bold child, but he was never needlessly foolish. His grandchildren were smart and clever; they were survivors. Richard knew that any messages to Bruce would have led the man right to him but he knew just how deeply fraught with worry they were over him so he saw fit to leave messages with Alfred, trusting the older man to relay them and claim ignorance over how where they were originating from. A month later, Richard returned with a somewhat sobered Roy Harper for Oliver Queen to take custody of. After that, and 1 strange teen pregnancy later, the 4 boys were doing better…much better.

Then Richard died. He was shot on patrol. His grandson was evaporated from his world, from his mind, and from his hands. Alfred didn't know if his heart could handle another funeral of a boy so young and dear to him. He thanked God every day that he lived long enough for their dark-haired angel to return to him. Alfred promised the air around him, the fates, whatever gods may be lurking behind the Christian one he was raised under, to return his boy to him; and in return, he would be devout once more. Alfred followed through, he prayed every day before bed, to who…he was still not sure as the cruelties he’d seen his original charge endure only to see 4 more young innocent boys suffer the same…well, it truly robbed Alfred of his genuine faith. He prayed, yes. He still wore a rosary, yes. But he was almost certain he’d die a faithless man. 

“Alfred?”

“Mm, yes, Master Wayne?

“Did you hear me?”

“Sorry, sir. Would you mind repeating that? I’m afraid I was trying to recall when best to stop by the grocery store later this week”

Bruce gazed at Alfred in a way that they both knew was a lie. After everything Alfred had been put through and all he had down for the sake of the Wayne family and orphan boys who had become its reputation, Bruce would never not allow Alfred his small moments. His lies and bouts of privacy.

“I said that we may have to get new samples of Dick’s blood because the reaction we saw from him was awful”

“Should I request Lucious to send any anti-contaminate sample boxes, sir?”

“No, not yet. I was just…informing you”

“Thank you, sir” Alfred replied with little inflection. He was currently tidying up the kitchen while Bruce sat at his side, his 5th cup of coffee growing cold in front of him.

“He looked at me horribly, Alfred. Like he was trying to tell me something with just this angry look, but” Bruce sighed, “It’s not like we could take him then and there, and it may have just been me hoping for some contact with Dick after so long. Deathstroke wouldn't have allowed it without more people getting hurt and I have no idea how sound of mind he was after his episode”

Alfred moved onto another plate, “You are quite the detective, Master Bruce, what did your gut tell you?”

Bruce sighed and shifted his cup, “I don’t want to think he already knows about the black listing we had to put Nightwing on. I have to figure out a way to get a secure message to him and let him know what’s happened. I want to assure him that it’s not permanent and that we can fix it somehow”

“It was a demand by half of the Justice League in order to agree to prioritize Master Richard, was it not?”

“Yes, but I still hate it. All of the newer younger members think they are upholding the Justice League’s morals but forcing this. I know they think they're coming off as non-biased but it doesn't make it right. The moment we turn our backs on heroes like Nightwing-like Dick, the Justice League doesn't have a purpose anymore”

“That does sound like something Master Richard would like to hear…if he had already been made aware of his vigilante black listing”

Bruce smirked darkly, “Kowing Wilson, it was brought up at breakfast” he ran a hand through his dark hair, “But it could be anything, truthfully. Dick could still just hate me. He could hate that we intervened and rescued Rose Wilson with them…”

Alfred and Bruce both dissociated together for a while and Alfred could not contain the dark direction his thoughts spiralled in. He imagined the dark inky webs crawling up Richard's neck and jaw, he couldn't stop imagining the scenario where it was revealed Richard had been hiding his enhanced ailment-associated features behind more drugs and colored contacts. The poor boy was suffering and all Alfred was doing was washing another dish. A sharp warm sensation jarred Alfred from his thoughts at the same time Bruce barked, “Alfred!”

Alfred looked down to find slivered plate shards in his palm and throughout the sink water, “Oh dear. My apologies, sir, I'll-”

Bruce’s hand reached across and turned off the water. He gripped Alfred’s wrist gently and rotated them up so the taller, broader, younger man could pluck theme from his wrinkled, fair skin. Alfred allowed the movement with little protest. Bruce frowned as he spotted 2 band-aids already crisscrossing Alfred’s right hand, “Did you hurt yourself earlier?”

Alfred did his head, “Just a small gardening adventure, I assure you, Master Wayne” 

Yesterday evening was spent plucking vase shards from his palm.

Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry Alfred. I know I promised to bring Dick back only to return without him…on purpose. I promise he’ll be home soon. He will, I know Jason doesn't believe me and Damian is looking for proof that I’m lying but -”

Alfred squeezed Bruce’s hand back, smearing the red-tinged blood between their wet soapy hands, “I believe you master Bruce. You’ve never once lied to me with knowing intentions, and never failed to follow through on a vow without giving it your utmost all”

Bruce scowled, not liking Alfred’s word choice, “He will come home” he insisted lowly.

Alfred smiled and removed his hands to clear the sink and throw the larger shards away, “That he will, Master Bruce. No matter what the young man does, he will always be family. He will be your son and he will have a place in this household just as much as any of us. You love him dearly and are merely prolonging his rescue so that a greater threat to the vast majority of people can be dealt with. Something that we can all agree is a priority and something that Master Dick will not fault you for when looking back on your actions”

Bruce furrowed his brow as he stared down at Afred, “Yes…” he replied, unsure if the older man was just agreeing with him. He disliked the way Alfred's words implied he'd given up and was merely existing in their new depressing reality. Alfred nodded and turned back to the sink in a dismissive manner, “Good, then that is what you shall tell him time and time again. Every chance you see that boy and every time he turns you away, you will reiterate your devotion until it rings true for both parties; and I can cater to 5 mouths once more”

 

Chapter 19

Notes:

Hey there! some more complicated/cross org. action is picking up the pace here. let me know what you think.

I saw a post on tiktok that said Slade and Jason or Slade and Dick pairings are their 'hear me out' shipping and it made me realize I'm very delulu about certain things in this fandom lol

“Move in” Dick ordered over his comms. His voice was slightly muffled by the black mask covering the bridge of his nose and lower face. It had been weeks since his failure of a stunt to rescue Rose. Slade had been more than displeased with him but Dick wished he’d express himself more bluntly. The man had refused his company in private and rarely attended dinners with him and Wintergreen nowadays. When Dick lay alone in bed at night, he often stared up at the ceiling and found himself wishing for the man to end the cold icy divide and punish him in a way that he knew he could handle. Dick yearned for lashings more than Slade’s silent treatment, desired beatings in place of his refusal to speak to Dick. His chest felt like it was clutched in a cold stranglehold since then. Every time he looked up for his master’s attention, the man refused to give him that connection they both knew he wanted. That simple consistency that Dick had thrived off of with the man, so equally enraptured with him and his behaviors, was now the reason behind Dick’s withering mentality.

He found that every time he destroyed the gym and thrashed the equipment room, decimating Slade’s robots and equipment, hoping for the mercenary to confront him and offer him a more physical punishment; something he could bear better, the man refused to show. The following day, whatever Dick had destroyed or ruined was either gone, cleaned, or fixed. It was driving Dick mad. The only way he’d come to find an ounce of solace or self-control in his new icy whirlwind of isolation was to embrace the cold. His anger felt frigid, even to himself, and lashing out at his underlings and subordinates, unfortunately, offered him the smallest bit of quench to his thirst for connection, for human contact. His brutal, outrageous behavior seemed to melt the ice inside his throat and limbs, offering him the smallest semblance of a reprieve before sleep would take him and he’d wake to a whole new day of isolation, re-freezing Dick’s efforts to melt himself.

He knew he’d messed up. He’d not only thrown Slade’s efforts for him in the man’s face by offering such weak pitiless words and attention to his brothers, but he’d defied the man outright. He knew the man had little to lose, but he'd put his reputation, money, and current interests on the line to prioritize Dick's self-control, and desires to destroy the Court of Owls. He'd disobeyed the man and then ignored him for Damian in front of everyone. The longer his strange 1 manned isolationist life continued, the more frigidly hot his insides became, harding like steel. His only comfort was to lash out how he knew he could, hoping and praying that the next day would be the one the man finally came to him and allowed him the opportunity to repent. The loneliness and buzzing in his head that Slade’s lack of presence created was unbearable and Dick couldn't find it in himself to worry over how detrimental this new weakness was making him look and feel. He was more concerned, more taken, with how to end it entirely. This mission would be it, Dick was determined to prove to his master that this mission’s bloodshed would convey his apologies. If the man didn't accept them, then he’d resolve himself to confront the man. He’d prostrate himself at his feet and take whatever punishment he needed to in order to make eye contact with the killer again.

Wintergreen had tried to make up for it by visiting him more with snacks or books, but his sad small wrinkled blue eyes only reminded him of how much he was being robbed of a single cold blue steel instead. Bruce had made it clear that Dick was no longer one of them - no longer welcome. That their efforts to chase after himself and Slade would be for the sole purpose of information and defeating the Light; not to save Dick. Slade was all he had left. 

“Sir” Falcon responded over comms. While still near the region of Vietnam, Slade had apparently seen reason to tick a name off the list that Vandal Savage had given them. Dick had been relieved to have been informed by a commander that he was to accompany the team and lead an assault on their target close by. Then the realization set in that this was the first time Dick was being informed by a lower class ranking informant because Slade refused to speak, even message, his heir and apprentice. Dick had nearly strangled the man then and there, stopping just as his fingernails drew blood. They’d returned to a region closer to Laos and prepped for a few days before sending in Dick, his private team of 3, and 2 other men. Dick hadn't even read up on his target. There was no need to know about the family that might miss him, or why he was so deserving of the Light’s negative attention. Dick was only concerned about his face. He’d stared at it until he saw his slim cheekbones and large brown eyes every time he blinked; if Slade wanted him dead. He’d die.

They’d taken out the entire building, floor by floor until they had the top penthouse cornered. Dick’s target most likely had no idea either. Dick had ordered his team to dispatch every obstacle with heightened sedatives to ensure that their movements were as silent as possible. If the sedatives overtook someone’s heart, that made the clean-up on the way down all the less complicated. Dick motioned for 2 men to take watch on his left and right, leaving 2 men to take up his back from behind. He didn't even care to see where his actual teammates were amongst the newcomers Slade had assigned. He halted for a few minutes, listening to the deafening silence of the 12-story building they had taken over. They had all the security footage playing on a loop and had taken the chief nightman’s radio in case their target got a little curious about the lack of sounds or activity.

He wasn't expecting that though. Dick had made sure his men, and woman, were very aware of how exact this mission had to go, or else he’d ensure they felt the consequences. Dick was aware that their target was one of the biggest bookkeepers for East Asian black market activity. He worked for various vendors and different organizations, and his ability to take a beating and walk it off made him all the more sought-after and reliable. The men that had foolishly kidnapped Rose were nowhere near this level of financial fraud and sophistication, but Dick hoped that the man was merely sitting in his office-checking his numbers twice and quietly, making Dick’s task of putting a hole in his head that much easier. He made his way to the large oak door at the end of the hallway and held his breath listening for anything besides his own heartbeat and the ones behind him; nothing. Dick focused, listening for the slightest sound of scuffing feet or the scratch of a pen. Nothing. 

Dick pulled away and looked at the door. He held up a fist before motioning forward. He heard the slight rustling of his team closing in behind him. Dick opened the door slowly before leaning inside. No one sat at the large singular desk against the wall. There was an enormous window that spanned from ceiling to floor behind it but that didn't take away from the fact that Dick was viewing an empty room. Confusion swarmed him as he lowered his gun slightly and stepped forward. The sound of movement seemed to enflame his senses instantly. Dick fell to his knees as a hand shot out from behind the door and shot a muted pistol at where his head had been moments ago. The silencer offered only a single thud in place of a gunshot. From his kneeling position, he rolled forward and sprang to his feet from a single front-forward flip. He turned, bringing his own pistol up in the quick move, aimed and fired. The man fell to his stomach in an undignified heap, his head and knees making the most sound. Dick’s lip curled and for a moment he wished Slade had trusted him less and came so that he could witness Dick's instinctive firing. The mercenary had once commented that while their profession and career path required much more timely and measured precision firing, like sniper shots for assassinations, he’d reflected on how uniquely accurate and precise Dick’s instinctive firing was. Instinctive firing was always used in quick close combat or unexpected situations 9 out of 10 times. It relied on the person’s senses, and more, to be able to feel out their opponent’s movements, height, and know what their next trajectory may be based on their recorded behavior and personality. A skittish person would duck or flee, an aggressive hostile person would charge or swing at their attacker. Knowing all of these potentials in the moment in such a heightened astute manner led to a split-second firing decision that put the target down in one shot....ideally.

“Found him” Jacks quipped. Ronan smacked him over the back of the head. Dick pushed himself to his feet with a fluidity that made him feel like he was still a performing gymnast, just with an audience of 4 instead of 400. He came to stand in front of his latest victim and rolled him over with the toe of his boot, “It’s not him” Dick said, retaining the coldness in his voice. His gut clenched as his feelings seemed to flip-flop in polarizing ways, suddenly he was egregiously glad Slade wasn't there to see his failure.

His mind was spinning circles like a small-minded hamster in its wheel. Did he have the wrong place? Wrong time?

How preemptively did his target know he was coming? Who was the imposter?

Dick stared down the face that resembled his target with a likeness that could have fooled most. This man’s face was similar in almost every way. His bone structure was just as thin and soft. He’d had brown eyes before Dick had closed them permanently, and his lips were just as rounded. He stared at the man’s face, knowing there was something off, something that was standing out in a subtle way. The man’s eyebrows seemed thicker, maybe more grown in and closer to a unibrow but that could just mean that Dick had stared at a picture of him post-shaven or waxed. His attention was drawn to the man’s lower face where hints of a mustache were coming through. Dick’s focus jumped from the man’s hair to his upper lip. His hair was darker than the facial hair growing in.

“What makes you think this isn't the target?” Ronan asked seriously, coming to his side. They both stared down at the dead body.

“His facial hair is almost a whole shade lighter than his hair” Dick pointed out coldly, “He dyed his hair”

“But they look just alike,” Kris said from behind.

“Maybe a sibling?” Ronan asked. Dick nodded as he looked around the empty office.

“Man, I can't believe we accidentally tracked down the wrong brother” Jacks complained.

“Not on accident…” Dick said with half his focus elsewhere. He scanned the walls and the indents where crevices were created, looking for anything that might look suspicious, “This relative didn't dye his hair the exact same shade as our target and shave his facial hair on accident”

Dick found what he was looking for when he spotted the rug beneath the large desk. It was the kind of desk where drawers sat on either side but the feet of someone could still be seen from underneath. The deep red rug beneath the legs of the desk was not quite straight, something that the cleaning staff or very wealthy men with OCD would undoubtedly resolve quickly. 

“The rug” Dick ordered. Ronan understood quickly and beckoned one of the spare soldiers to him. He retrieved something from his gear from beneath the bags of spare equipment and weapons. He brought a small binocular-shaped device to his eyes and clicked the top a few times, “There’s a heat signature beneath the floor”, Ronan confirmed. He looked at Dick and nodded.

Jacks clapped his hands, “That takes care of that” he looked to the 2 spare men and nodded towards the desk, “Move it” he ordered in a tone he would never speak to Dick, Kris, or Ronan with.

The men picked up the desk and rolled the rug up and away with an efficiency that spoke of much experience cleaning up disastrous messes. The moment the rug was gone, Dick spotted the lining of a square manhole cover in the wooden floorboards. He withdrew his own blade and knelt, slipping it into the crack and wedging it up. The moment he moved to pull the door up, the barrel of a gun suddenly appeared beside his fingers. Dick jerked to the side as a gunshot bang exploded inches from his face. The ceiling splintered and cracked under the force of the gunshot. Dick threw open the door with more force and found his target quivering in a 7-foot hole below him. The man was trembling and trying to reload an expensive antique revolver. Dick resisted the urge to scoff, knowing that the fool had probably bought the gun to show off to clients and now had nothing efficient for protection. Without a word, he held out his hand and felt Ronan lay his pistol in his palm. Dick checked the safety clip without looking before snapping back to the top muzzle and firing in one swift move. The man’s head snapped back against the wooden wall before he crumbled, “Found him” Dick said blandly, earning him a weak smirk from Jacks.

Dick tossed the gun back before nodding at the 2 nameless men, “Report back to my master that the job is done” he looked at the other man, “Take pictures and dispose of the body. No evidence or bragging”

“Sir? Shouldn't we offer ourselves an alibi? Blame it on a competing gang in the area?”

Dick’s eye twitched and he looked to the first man, a tall lean brown haired guy, “You better shut your partner up before you’re being ordered to dispose of 2 bodies”

The first man nodded while the other man fell silent, his lips thinning drastically. Dick made his way to the far back window that overlooked an alley way. He needed fresh air and Slade had trained him too well, too astutely and too vigorously to ever stick his head out a skyrise without knowing exactly what and who was in each surrounding building. He shoved open the window and leaned against the side, breathing deeply. He hadn't noticed how hard his chest had been pounding until after they’d successfully completed the mission. The 5 minutes where Dick feared he would return to his master without any proof of a well-executed mission felt like an oncoming heart attack. 

He felt before he heard Kris approach from behind. Ronan and Jacks not long after. She bumped his shoulder before following his unfocused gaze out the window, “Everything will be fine” She reassured quietly.

For a few seconds, Dick wavered between the urge to snap and lash out or to call out to any soft semblance she was willing to offer him. He needed something extreme; either to douse his fire or ignite it tenfold. Her gentle gesture won out and Dick found his shoulders collapsing in on themselves. He hunched forward against the night wind in Laos and she took the gesture to move closer.

He sighed, “You’re probably right,” he said quietly.

Jacks clapped him on the shoulder before quickly withdrawing, a force of habit because of Slade, “She’s always right dude”

Dick sighed in response, appreciating their presence despite his coldness and brutality in recent weeks. Their consistency was something he found himself incredibly grateful for at times. It was a dark, pathetic way of viewing it, but they couldn't leave his side without disobeying Slade and leaving his contracting employ. Most of the time he believed that they truly liked him as well. He never spoke to them about what went on in the darkness. Inside his thoughts, in his salacious privacy with Slade, the moments where he seemed to disappear into the same blind brutality Cobb wanted from him, only to awaken to multiple unintended victims. He knew they were aware of all of it though. Slade, his instability, his need for love and support despite the walls he forced up. They never mentioned any of it and took his verbal lashings with a stiff lip and a yes sir.

Dick suddenly felt guilt clench his chest over their one-sided relationship. They probably did their best to like their team lead, but he had no idea how much they truly held against him and how much they were forced to forgive for the sake of working under Deathstroke. His throat seemed to tighten and he sighed heavily leaning his hip to the other side and dropping his head onto Kris' shorter shoulder. She huffed lightly but stood straighter and stepped closer, “Don't fret, Dick” she said softly, “Everything will work out….eventually. You'll be okay”

“You…not us”

“That’s the kind of pep talk Timmy gives. Good ones, but textbook”

For a while, they only listened to the wind when Ronan spoke, "You were planning to return to them, weren't you? Your… episode was about that...or something that messed up your plans..."

Dick smirked weakly but didn't make eye contact, "I've always been foolish"

"But now you can't return to your family. To your brothers", Jacks said.

Dick frowned, ”The only thing that made us brothers was how we treated one another. Damian is his true son and the rest of us weren't even all adopted by Bruce. It won't be long till they realize the same thing. Then they won't miss me-won't want me back”

“What? That you’re not really brothers? Dude” Jacks said, “The only reason they're still chasing after us is cuz they think that”

 “No, that I’m not worth it,” Dick said solemnly. In response, his team around him seemed to stiffen before leaning into him more; offering whatever affection and support they could through proximity and partial touches.

“You know, Ren” Kris said, “Our silence during certain moments isn't because we don't want to help. If there-”

Dick huffed a quiet laugh, “Thank you for trying but we all know you can and wouldn't move against Slade. Don’t worry I know how pathetic I am” I need Slade for now, at least until I can manage myself without my environment, and those within, becoming casualties.

Kris frowned, “Dick, if you really wanted us to-”

“You don't know what you’re asking” Dick snapped. He sighed and moved to pull away, “Just-just let me keep you at arms length, please”

No one pointed out when Dick spoke about his brothers or past life as a vigilante. It was always out of earshot of Slade but Dick liked to believe that these weak moments, where he allowed himself to reflect and reminisce, wasn't one of the many that were reported on him back to his master. Dick knew he was pathetic, the instability he felt internally had never truly subsided after leaving with Slade. He’d learned to manage the emotional waves that it triggered instead of subduing the feelings completely. He knew Slade was still finding a balance even after all this time as well. He wouldn't expect the man to ever treat him genuinely well or simplistically. Who would ever treat a raging animal or a weapon with courtesy? He needed to find a way to accept his own actions before they ate him alive. You made your choice idiot; deal with it.

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Tim” Tim jumped and turned in his seat to find Bruce at his back. They watched each other for a moment, “I’m surprised you aren't with Jason”

Tim shook his head before turning back to his multi-screen setup. Bruce approached his side and Tim sighed internally, feeling a conversation on the approach, “Did you need something?”

Bruce hesitated in his response, “No, I just wanted to run something through the system. There’s been some rumors and I want to confirm them”

Tim didn't respond. He didn't have the mental energy to continue his research and humor Bruce’s lame attempt at conversation. He’d spent the entire day looking into Dr. Amanik from what they had already and what Dr. Leslie had provided them. He wasn't surprised the man had fallen out with every past employer and medical accreditation after reading the reports and complaints filed in almost every workplace. He’d been written up for disorderly conduct and even suspected medical malpractice. Compared to the notes that Dr. Amanik and others left in Dick’s medical files from the Court’s confiscated leftovers, Tim could see how this man was itching to act outside of the law and social norms. He should've never been allowed into the medical field to begin with"

Bruce plucked a spare tablet off the table when Tim didn't answer. Tim sighed and pushed away from the desk, partially offering the workspace to Bruce, “What did you need to check?”

“I need to confirm any last movements or sightings on Atsawin Noy. He’s a bookkeeper for multiple criminal organizations in Laos”

Tim looked at Bruce in puzzlement, “Why are you investigating a gang in Laos?”

Bruce had already reached over Tim and started typing, “There’s some overlap between Luthor and one of the groups Noy works for. It’s not a lot but it’s big enough-”

“You’re kidding me” Tim groaned, “You think this is Dick and Deathstroke?”

Bruce’s lips thinned and he refused direct eye contact, “The police had reported him missing and even though the announcement was made today, sources say he’s been gone for longer…the timeline adds up so I just wanted to see what I could find. It won't become a priority-”

“Of course, it won't” Tim snapped, “Dick is, not possible Deathstroke contracts. Besides them, me, and Jason, and Damian, and the whole fucking League on our backs, and half the young Justice-”

“It won't be, Tim” Bruce reassured sharply. Tim’s jaw clenched but he turned away instead of pressing the subject again. After a moment Bruce tried again, “Young Justice is giving you issues?”

Tim’s features softened slightly, “Really just Wally” he admitted, “They were all pissed that no one told them about Rose and Dick. I get it. It was last minute and we didn't know for sure if we’d run into Slade and Dick”

“They need to understand that he is our priority and our concern,” Bruce said lowly, “He is your brother and my son before their teammate”

“They know that, Bruce” Tim replied, “They're not doing this just because Dick was their teammate for a few years. Dick was friends with all of them. He and Wally have been close ever since they were the first sidekicks. Dick helped Roy out of addiction, he convinced Artemis not to follow her sister and dad, and made Superbody and Megan feel welcomed… he’s their friend, Bruce”

“No matter, there will be issues if they keep pressing us like we don't know what we’re doing”

“We don't know what we’re doing, Bruce” Tim exclaimed. His eyes were wide but the energy seemed to escape him moments after his outburst, “No one does, B. Dick leaving us and what he’s done… it's unprecedented and I can't blame anyone for how they feel about it. Half the Justice League wants to treat him like a criminal because that’s all we know he’s done in the last 2 years. Half the Justice League wants to save him but knows we can't risk breaking down the internal integrity of the Justice League, and then his friends and family can't stop fighting because Dick’s actions have hurt us too much and he’s not here for us to take them out on!”

Before he could think better of it, Bruce reached out and laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder. He squeezed firmly, hoping to portray the fact that he was here for his child. Time was far too much like him. It took him almost as long as Damian to integrate into Wayne Manor and open up. He’d been raised just like Bruce had and had picked up the same habitual traits and methods as Bruce. Even Ra’s noticed it, earning him the Demon Head’s attention in a way that Bruce despised in every possible way. It made his hackles rise in defense of his son who was being preyed upon for his mind but lack of experience in the world. Tim didn't seem to sense Bruce’s partially drifting thoughts and spoke, bringing Bruce back to himself, “I can't blame Wally one bit” he said, “It’s not his fault he isn't Dick’s brother-he just feels like he is and hates that he’s being blocked from protecting Dick. Can you imagine the insult he must be feeling?”

Bruce had the sense Tim was talking out loud and less to Bruce now, “He’s known Dick the longest out of anyone. He and Roy, but he and Wally were the same age and Wally was made a sidekick only a year after Robin. They’ve always been brothers and been treated like that too. Then he goes and abandons us all and everyone acts like their bond never existed. It’s probably driving him mad”

Bruce watched his son deplete himself just by imagining the empathetic iterations that must be going through the speedster’s head, “Everyone else probably feels similarly but Wally’s just having a hard time keeping it all inside”

Bruce knew that Tim was right, Kidflash and Robin had spent nearly every other night together at the cave or at Mount Justice as sidekicks. When Wally learned of Dick’s identity, he very nearly emptied out the upstairs fridge with how constantly the 2 boys were all over the house. Training, playing video games, and doing homework, but Tim was also right. Fate had decided that Wallace West was not one of his boys but Bruce cared far more for how his own sons were faring than the speedster. In an effort to calm the obvious guilt that was eating at his second youngest, Bruce said, “We will make sure they are informed and prepared to accompany us in the future. Since it appears as if Wilson is planning to award us some level of information about his movements for the Light, we’ll be busy and need as much backup as possible”

Tim bit his lip but seemed far too conflicted and troubled to argue properly. Instead, he asked, “Do you really think it was Dick?”

Bruce looked to where Tim’s attention was on the screen of Laos’ police reports of missing persons. Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair. A habit all his boys had picked up in times of stress, that Alfred found amusing and delightful for odd reasons, “I hope not. My gut is telling me it was Slade though”

“So not Dick?” Tim’s question was vague and Bruce could tell his son was asking for reassurance more than factual answers. Tim was instinctively intelligent enough to piece together the clues for himself, “I’m not entirely sure there’s a difference at this point, Tim”

“Do you really think that taking the soft long-term approach with Dick will convince him to leave Slade?”

Bruce felt his chest tighten as his own daily doubts were thrown back into his face, “I hope so. I do think that it will be a more effective method with Dick, but it’s also one of necessity. Clark and the others are right. We can’t just deal with Dick. He will always be my priority, all your boys will be. But I can’t protect you or Gotham if the Light is allowed to run rampant. If Deathstroke and his lack of loyalty turns out to work in our favor then unfortunately, the delay in getting Dick back home may have to be worth it”

Tim’s lashes became lidded as he looked away but Bruce appreciated his thoughtful, logic-focused son for not exploding on him like his other sons would have. Dick had a habit of playing the middle ground and would understand in the end, but Jason and Damian were far too hard-headed and would no doubt be fighting him instead of listening to his explanation. 

“Where is Jason?” Tim asked, “You thought he was with me?”

Bruce nodded as he leveraged his attention between the screens Tim had given him and his son, “Jason took Damian for some food earlier and I thought you had all gone together”

Tim nodded and the corners of his eyes widened slightly, “I would say I’m surprised but without Dick to coddle Damian, it looks like Jason’s kind of toughening him up a little” he sent Bruce a look, “Did he tell you just to not invite you?”

The corners of Bruce’s lip twitched up, “No” he replied, “I have trackers in all your shoes now” Tim’s brows went into his hairline, “What happened with Dick made me realize that I could handle some more anger from you boys if it means knowing where you were”

Tim’s mouth thinned and slanted, but he seemed to agree with the idea of the sentiment, “What happens when Jason just buys new clothing and shoes?” he asked with a hint of humor.

Bruce raised a single brow, “He uses my credit cards for everything" he reminded his son, “If he ever got angry enough with me, I’m pretty sure he’d max them all out but still use them. Buying new clothing won't stop me from knowing where he is”

Tim seemed to want to laugh but was still too internally exhausted, “I’m surprised Jason took Damian out” he admitted. Bruce nodded, “I am and I’m not. I’m glad for it overall though. Damian was infatuated with me because of stories Talia told him about the Batman. Once he got to know me, he was more devoted to the honor and image his mother and grandfather had instilled in him than our actual family. Dick was his only outlet, and without Dick, I think Damian has convinced himself he’ll spiral and disappoint us somehow”

Tim smirked and exhaled quickly through his nose, “You know, this conversation is kind of debunking the years of gossip we’ve always talked about you behind your back”

Bruce raised a questioning brow. Tim rolled his eyes like Bruce wasn't aware, “You’re kind of emotionally dense Bruce” he gestured at the man, “But apparently not”

Bruce’s features softened and he looked down, “I’m just glad that this will prove to Damian that he can survive and make connections outside of Dick” he admitted. 

“Yeah,” Tim agreed, “Jason needs someone to baby too. Damian will help get his mind off Dick for a little bit”

“Not just that,” Bruce said, “No matter how close Dick and Damian were, they could never relate to everything”

Tim cocked his head at the older man, “Damian will never be able to understand the simple roots Dick came from or his need for very few things in life”

“Damian definitely had a rough start with the name-calling, but he defends Dick’s parents all the time now” Tim pointed out. He shrugged, "But I guess Damian is way more materialistic than Dick"

Bruce nodded, “Yes, but I still don't think he truly understands it. His behavior is more from loyalty and love to Dick. He’ll never understand that a part of Dick was happier living in a trailer and practicing trapeze movements all day, than he ever will be with us”

“Dick understands that he can never get that back though,” Tim said sadly, “He’d never say that out loud, or to Damian”

“Exactly,” Bruce said, “But it goes both ways. Dick will never be able to understand Damian’s upbringing in a way that Jason will; to a degree”

“The Shadows?” Tim asked, “You think Jason took Damian for rooftop burgers to talk about Talia?”

He seemed like he wanted to laugh at the notion but was waiting for Bruce’s response. Bruce shrugged, “Partially. I know Jason isn't that direct when it comes to his emotions-”

“Unlike his fists” Tim grumbled.

“But Jason really is the only one who can relate to having to abide by Talia and Ra’s wishes in an environment that they thought was home at the time”

“I guess it’s never really been discussed, but Damian’s always refused basic therapy and Dick seemed to help him through a lot of it”

Bruce didn't seem convinced, “Yes and no. I think Dick taught him he was accepted and loved here, but there was no way for Dick to work through that trauma with Damian if he had no idea what Damian actually faced. He knows the basics, we all do, but Dick only reinforces that Damian’s childhood wasn't normal and wasn't proper”

“I can kind of see Dick being hesitant to shit all over Talia in front of Damian too” Tim offered awkwardly.

Bruce was still watching the digitized police reports, but he’d stopped reading them a while ago, “I think Damian’s accidental dependence on Jason has made Jason feel like the older brother, and that can be a heavy burden to live with”

Tim sent Bruce a flat look, “How would you know? You’re an only child”

Bruce sent an annoyed look to Tim, “Yes, but” he said, “I watched Dick go from being an orphan to a brother, and to the oldest brother in the span of a handful of years. He raised you all; Alfred and I just helped”

“How can you be so casual about that Bruce? Dick was just a kid too. You should've been raising us”

“I know,” Bruce said quickly, his tone soft, “I’m not saying it’s right but it is what it is. Sometimes I let Dick take the reins with Jason years ago because I was convinced that Dick needed more control and management in his life”

“And what?” Tim asked, “Babying Jason and ordering him around in sparring lessons would make Dick feel more in control of his life?”

Bruce avoided his son’s gaze, “Sometimes, I think it did help, so I allowed it. I allowed anything I thought would help you boys. Before I realized it, you were here.... and then Damian, and before I realized it-Dick had taken charge with each new member of our family. I didn't want to intervene and damage a dynamic that Dick felt comfortable enough with to take lead on”

“Bruce, you know that’s not true right? Dick loves us and would probably never admit it, but we’re only pressure for him. More baggage and more of a burden. Jason told me Dick was considering colleges close by in High School so he could stay and help out. That's just so not normal”

Bruce wore a tight expression, "We argued about a lot when he was in high school. Sometimes he wanted to go abroad and other times he wanted to travel and thinks bout College later....Tim, I know it’s hard to believe because you and Dick can be so different at times, but trust me. Dick and I butted heads a lot over you boys. He disagreed on punishments I gave to Jason and gifts I tried to give Damian, even allotments I gave you” Bruce smiled to himself, “Dick set you first time, did you know that?”

“Dick was the one who made me go to bed at 9:30?” Tim balked.

Bruce chuckled, “He saw that you had the same tendency for insomnia as me and figured by the time you wore yourself out, you’d be asleep by 11 or 12 so he wanted to…” Bruce trailed off and his cheeks seemed to sag, “It doesn't matter” he sighed, “I know I encouraged and allowed Dick to act far too grown far too early, but I was too hesitant to say no to him after we both sat there and watched his parents die”

Tim didn't know what to say to Bruce’s sudden sullen admission, “So, Talia?” Tim tried again, “You think Jason can get Damian out of his weird behavior with his mom?”

Bruce seemed to shake off his slight depression and nodded, looking back to the screen, “Not as bluntly as that, but maybe. Jason and Damian have both experienced Talia at her best and worst. Her love and attention can be addicting while her expectations eat away at you. I know both of them have suffered in Nanda Parbat and only they know what it’s like to be controlled by someone like that”

“Not just them” Bruce turned to Tim but his son’s deep blue eyes were waiting for him just as Dick’s always had been, only a shade darker, “You, Bruce. She’s hurt you and abused you in the same ways. Worse even”

Bruce sighed and smiled slightly to offer his appreciation to Tim, “I know. But I pray that I never have to bond with Damian or Jason over that kind of harm”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Has there been any news from your magic mutt?” Luthor asked. Queen Bee was draped elegantly in her seat. Her braids and silk coverings cascaded down her arms and the chair legs like a waterfall. She offered Luthor an unimpressed look, “Psimon is multitasking on quite a few different things for me. You’ll have to try and bit harder and actually specify what you're referring to” 

Luthor drabbed his lip with a napkin unnecessarily, “Not your bald freak, Klarion; the psychotic magic boy you’ve taken under your jurisdiction”

Queen Bee’s gaze lit up in understanding, “Nothing worth mentioning” she replied, “The reports have shown minimal activity inside the home”

“Minimal?” Luthor demanded in frustration.

She sighed and slowly turned to the bald man, “If you insist, I can order someone to read you the hourly reports of every grocery trip and cleaning attempt the old man makes, but Wayne is rarely ever home, and his children less so”

Luthor snapped, “Can the damn miscreant read? Have the blasted witch send his bugs and whatnot through Wayne’s papers and books! We need to learn where that cave of his is located”

Ra’s, who had been scratching notes and letters to himself across the table, halted for a moment before continuing. His head stayed bent but his posture and writing performance were immaculate all the same.

“What other news is there?” Luthor waved a hand before adjusting the cuffs of his white suit.

Queen Bee fixed the bottom of her dress and traded her crossed legs, “Not much. Vandal has reported that Deathstroke is adequately performing under his command and has offered no complaints” She took a leisurely sip of white wine, “And Black Manta is still patrolling the newly discovered oil rigs in the Pacific for now”

Luthor nodded, “Good, good. Have him continue. I’m not surprised that Deathstroke is not proving to be a problem. The man cares for nothing but a signed check so he’ll be the least of our worries as long as he believes we aren't encroaching on the Grayson boy”

Queen Bee hummed before her tone hardened like an icicle, “Speaking of which. I recently had Vandal send Deathstroke and his team to a cave site I’ve had under excavation. My team needed protection and support while they cleaned up the site and closed up the mine they had been digging into for me. The project had gone well until the last day. I have 11 men missing and some very jumpy scientists now waiting at a base near Egypt”

Luthor smirked, “You think Deathstroke sabotaged you? What need would he have for that?”

She scoffed, “Surely not my crystals. The mercenary has no affinity for unearthly magic, but I am not so blind as to turn my cheek to a coincidence. Vandal has had Deathstroke employed for a short while now and already there are complications”

“Speak plainly woman” Luthor snapped, “Are you telling me Wilson is working against us?”

She narrowed her eyes and clicked her long nails against the glass table before them, “Whether it is in vengeance against Wilson, or an attempt to reclaim the Grayson boy, they are magnets for bad luck and trouble I do not wish”

Ra’s rested his pen, “You think the Bats will follow the boy and hence every one of our operations” he said plainly, finally looking up.

Queen Bee looked miffed and nodded, “Precisely” her nails rapped against the glass sharper, quicker, “Something must be done as we cannot afford to let lose the boy but we do not yet have the means to easily separate him from his current master”

Ra’s had gone back to writing, this time something in Japanese that scrawled completely opposite from the format of English, "Mererly do something to ward off the pests following the boy’s heels”

Queen Bee looked to Ra’s with a high chin, “Are you suggesting there is a method to simply ward off the Batman?”

Ra’s expression was stern and unreadable, “Nothing is that simple, my dear, but yes….something must be done to convey to the Batman and his brood that the closer they get, the more the boy suffers. Their clear-cut sympathies will be too affected for them to ignore the message”

Luthor set his sights on the Demon Head, “We all know the soft spot you have for Batman. Why now are you offering ways to harm his original Robin?”

Ra’s set down his pen with a withering, assessing look, “The detective has earned my respect and humble acknowledgment for his efforts and mind. The strays he and my daughter have picked up along the way do not reflect my admiration or desired intellect” Ra’s offered a dismissive look and this time began writing something in Arabic, “Besides, I care not whether the detective is childish enough to hold a grudge when his indestructible child is harmed. He will eventually find ways around this blockade but it will offer you the time and distance you require in the moment”

Queen Bee watched the man as he continued with his scripture. She turned back to Luthor, “Have Mercy arrange a call for me and Savage. I wish to discuss parameters before taking any action”

Luthor nodded and pressed a button under his desk, summoning Mercy, “As long as progress is made” he muttered, “These damned politicians and their reluctancy to allow me closer than arm’s reach will be the death of my patience” he sighed.

Queen Bee smirked and leaned back as the mechanical woman approached, “Those men and women might not be cut out for the lifestyle you're imagining, not everyone is as dimwitted as you imagine them to be” she admonished with a light lilt to her timbre. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

“I’m so sorry” Megan offered sincerely. 

“It’s okay, Miss Martian, really” Kaldur replied. She and Connor had arrived back to earth just that morning, given a respite by Red Tornado after the torrential news that Superman had brought back with the rest of the Bat clan. Wally had been furious to learn another escapade had taken place but his efforts to coldly lash out at the Robins was nothing new. Roy had forced Jason to let them know if anything else came up before relenting his anger and spite as well. 

“No” she insisted, “If we had been there as well, then maybe things might have turned out differently”

Kaldur shot a look to Tim who was offering partial attention between his laptop and the people around him, “I doubt it” he said calmly, “The Justice League would have voted to place Nightwing on the enhanced black list no matter what. There’s no way for you to change what he’s been doing for the past 2 years”

Artemis nodded and offered her a soft look, “What matters is that you guys are here now. We have even more manpower for the next field mission”

“So we're really working with Deathstroke?” Connor asked in disbelief. Tim nodded without looking up, “So far” he said, “Wilson is supposed to give us at least 24 hours notice when he goes out for missions for the Light, but I know he won't tell us all of them” he said.

“What? Why?” Connor asked.

Tim offered Connor a flat look before blinking at the ease in which he preparing to respond rudely. He realized Superboy was genuinely asking, “He-uh-well half of his jobs are gonna be assassinations and there’s no way he’d tell us those are happening because we would definitely ruin the job for him” Tim glanced around awkwardly like it was obvious, “We’re hoping that he’s at least truthful with us when he goes out for missions like in Egypt where he’s there as protection or detail”

Megan looked at Tim, “So we’re allowing Deathstroke to keep Nightwing…for now?”

Wally laughed a short harsh barking sound before he leaned back and sneered at Tim, “Yep” he popped the P. Connor glared at Wally over his aggressive behavior.

Tim felt his ears burn but maintained his attention on his laptop screen, “If we took Dick right now, we’d probably lose someone to Deathstroke and then be left with more enemies than we started. Deathstroke is a means to an end” he looked up, “This is to weaken the Light and then leave Wilson with nowhere else to turn when we finally take Dick back”

“Has Rose said anything?” Roy asked. Tim looked at the older boy before shaking his head, “She’s with Jason and Damian right now, I think. But when we all spoke a few weeks ago, she said that she didn't know what was going on. There was an incident that no one, but Slade could really understand, and of course, he didn't explain so basically we’re all in the dark. Rose said that she knew even less than before because she thought her dad and Dick were keeping her informed of everything but…”

Tim trailed off in a way that got his statement across better.

“What happened?” Megan asked, looking around.

“Rob lost it” Wally replied scornfully. He sent another glare to Tim who ignored him, again. Connor elbowed him in the side with a quiet, "Stop"

Megan gasped and Superboy looked back to Tim for confirmation. Tim nodded, “Basically. Something is happening to him and the electrum that his body makes now kind of overloads if he doesn't do anything about it. I think it built up and well, Jason would say it fucked him up basically. It’s like hormones for women, during their cycle, when they have no outlet or way to soothe their cramps and-”

“We get it” Artemis snapped, “So Dick’s a ticking time bomb, and no one told you how he dulls it down”

“I think he’s figured out a way,” Tim said, “But no one confirmed anything and it’s hard to trust Dick and Deathstroke right now”

“Poor Nightwing,” Megan said sadly.

“Just wait 'till we get a hold of him and I knock some sense into his thick skull” Wally snapped under his breath. Roy gently bumped shoulders with him in response. 

Megan seemed to think of another question and she turned to the team, “Wait so does this me- Ahhhh!”

She cut herself off with a shriek that surprised everyone. Tim froze while Kaldur, Wally, and Roy jumped to their feet. Superboy flinched violently and Artemis looked like she was grabbing for an invisible bow over her shoulder. Superboy, being the closest, grabbed Megan’s flailing shoulders. She was hunched over and jerking. Her head was grasped between her hands and pulling at her hair in a way that looked as painful as it felt. She was stuttering for breath and gasping small wet pitiful sounds, “Megan! Megan!” Superboy cried out, begging for her attention, something to clue them into what may be wrong.

The others reached her in seconds and seemed hesitant to lay their hands on her, lest they hurt her more, “What’s wrong?!” Tim yelled out over her cries. Wally kept reaching for her before halting himself, worried about what to do.

“I’m calling Canary” Kaldur said before he backed away. For what seemed like an eternity, they watched Megan struggle for breath, unsure if painkillers, sedatives, or a League member would be the best solution. Eventually, Megan seemed to slowly unclench her fists from where she had her head and dark red hair in her clutch. She took a heaving haggard breath before coughing rawly. She blinked and looked around, looking past the teammates around her, “Megan?” Artemis asked, “What was that?

The alien girl looked past the occupants of the room like she was still disoriented but trying to confirm her surroundings to herself. Suddenly she gasped and clutched the hearest thing to her, Superboy’s hands on her shoulders, “Nightwing!” she cried out. Her gaze jumped around before locking onto Tim, “He’s in trouble!” she gasped, “It hurt- He-Nightwing’s in trouble!”

Tim’s breath stuttered and he felt a Slade Wilson-sized fist clench his heart, “I’m calling Batman” 

Chapter 20

Notes:

Hey there! New ch, let me know what you think. I just spent yesterday figuring out how FF.net story uploads work lol. I feel dumb-ff was how I got into fanfics to begin with.

Megan held her head and tried her best to withhold the urge to wince every time someone raised their voice too suddenly or strongly. Batman’s voice and tone were always a deep timber but his vocals and barked commands could become suddenly loud and abrasive against the ears with little notice.

“We need to go now, Clark” The Dark Knight threw a hand out towards where the zeta transport tubes were stationed against the far wall of the cave. It had taken minutes for Batman to respond to Redrobin’s sos, and not long after Black Canary, Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash presented themselves as well. Superman sighed and his lips thinned. He looked back towards the zeta tubes before turning to Megan, “We know so little” he told Bruce, “What if this is a trap? What if it was just a wound that Megan picked up on for some reason-”

“If my brother dies because of your lackadaisicalness-!”

Batman’s hand shot out and stopped Robin from stomping forward even more. No one commented that all signs still pointed towards Dick not being able to perish like a normal human either. Batman spoke up and kept a firm grip on his youngest, “My senses are telling me this is something huge, Clark. Miss Martian hasn't been able to sense or communicate with Dick since he was 17. This is big”

Clark crossed his arms, “It's not that I don't want to help but none of it makes sense, Bruce” he stressed, “Has Dick been shutting Megan out this whole time? Are we supposed to assume that Dick’s in so much pain that his mental shields broke and reached out for Megan? I Just don't get it, those experiments on him at the Court of Owls should have caused a reaction like this”

“Exactly,” Tim said, “There are so many unknown and misdirecting signals that it’s only smart for us to send a team and confirm what's going on”

“You cannot go there with the motive to save and rescue Richard” Diana reminded softly, “We’ve allowed Deathstroke to keep Nightwing until the Light is no longer deemed a threat”

Tim hesitated before nodding in agreement, “Yeah, but still. If something happened to Deathstroke and Dick then there goes our in with the Light”

Wally looked at his uncle, “This could be the Light lashing out-like punishing us. Our presence at the caves a while back might've fucked up things more than we assumed. We have to check on them. If it’s this bad that Slade hasn't messaged us then there’s a chance something happened to him”

Flash looked at Canary and Superman with a tense expression. Dinah crossed her arms, “That’s not a reliable assumption, Wally. Slade’s ego could very well be keeping him from reaching out and if Dick truly is just wounded, then this will be very unnecessary”

Connor stood up from where he had been crouched beside Megan, “This has never happened before” he stressed as well, “Only people like Psimon can force their way through like this. Dick’s mental whatever-that was- hurt her bad”

All eyes drew to Megan who winced by sat straighter, “It did-does hurt” she admitted, “But I can’t even understand what I saw. It was so much uncontrolled fury and pain and sadness it was like someone was forcing all their trauma at me at once. There were flashes of red and black and men in suits, but not military” she sighed, “It was very confusing"

Tim bit his lip, “That could be Slade’s men if they weren't obviously military” he admitted, "He does have uniforms"

She nodded, “It could have even been an awful dream” she added, “There were black roots and then the pain got so bad I forced the connection to break-”

“Black roots?” Damian asked with wide eyes. Superman and Wodnerwoman looked at the teenager, but he was looking at Tim, “His-Richard’s neck”

Tim’s eyes widened and he looked at Batman, “That stuff-the electrum overload, it happened again”

“The weird images made me think it was a delusion or dream but if it's real then it’s still happening,” Megan said, “I cut off the connection to see and feel but it's so strong it’s pounding in the background, like a headache”

Batman turned with a swish of his cape, “We’re going” he barked. He turned to Tim, “Call Redhood, now” he looked at the other Leagues, “We saw this during the rescue mission for Wilson’s daughter. This is a negative side effect of Dick’s enhanced status. If we can learn more about it, we might gain a better insight as to why the Light still cares about Cobb’s talons”

Superman narrowed his eyes but his features stayed soft. He knew it was still largely an excuse to go to Dick, but he relented, “Alright. Take who you want and keep us updated”

Robin narrowed his eyes as he made his way to the zeta tubes, “We weren't asking permission” he sneered. Redrobin looked at Megan as he finished sending off his 911 message to Jason, “Do you know where this was? Any hint?”

She looked troubled at the thought of having to delve back into the fray of mental pain to confirm Dick’s location, “Let me try focusing on him at a distance before I let it back in” she said. Tim nodded. 

Before long, one of the local zetas announced, “B-8-Redhood”

Tim turned to see Jason stumbling through the zeta beam. His dark leather jacket and ruby red helmet were stark against the white of the teleportation. He yanked his helmet off with the fury of a man interrupted far too many times, “Why the fuck is Dickhead bugging Megan?” he growled. His domino mask was plastered against his face underneath the mask but Tim could see the crinkles and aggression lines all the same. 

“Richard is in pain and needs our help” Damian snapped, “Don't dawdle”

Jason flitted from Damian to Tim, “I just got here!”

“And now we’re leaving” Batman ordered. All eyes turned to the Dark Knight as he towered overhead the room, alongside Superman and Redood, “If you aren't suited up by now. You aren't accompanying us” Batman ordered. He turned to Miss Martian who was still seated, “Do you have an approximate location yet?” Megan rubbed the back of his head and nodded, “Estonia is my best guess” she replied, forcibly keeping the quivers from her tone.

“But where Miss M?” Wally stressed, “Estonia’s still pretty big-”

“We don't have time” Batman silenced Wally, “We will flash to the most centralized transport we have in the country”

“The abandoned Red Cross station?” Flash asked. Batman nodded.

Jason looked around, noting that Wally, Artemis, Roy, and Kladur were suited up. Tim saw his glances and leaned closer to the taller boy, “Miss M isn't allowed to go because her uncle thinks the pain will make her a liability in the field”

Jason scrunched his nose, “What?”

Tim nodded, “Dick’s pain forced its way past her shields and Martian Manhunter doesn't like that. Megan’s shields are super strong, but something is up”

“She could've just been surprised” Jason suggested lowly. Tim nodded but didn't respond as it wasn't his call.

Batman turned to go after a few more low words were exchanged with the rest of the senior League members and the Senior Young Justice members prompted to follow after the Dark Knight, “Are you coming, Connor?” Tim asked. The dark haired boy bit his lip before looking back to Megan, “I-”

The green-skinned girl grabbed the hand that was laid over her shoulder, “You should, Connor. You’ve been talking about how much you wanted to help the whole time we were in space. Go, I’ll be fine”

Superboy still looked conflicted, “Dick needs me,” he said, “But yo-”

“Go” Black Canary ordered with a hard smile, “I’ll make sure she’s fine. We’ll be here if you need to radio and check in for whatever reason”

Superboy watched Megan for a second longer before the sound of the zeta tubes whittling to life drew his attention. He frowned but nodded and turned to Tim who was smiling at him with a dented brow. The two watched each other before Tim nodded, “I’m glad you can help out”

Connor smiled sadly, “Finally” he agreed, “Now I can help you guys punch some sense into 'Wing”

“About fucking time” Jason crowed back, “This idiot’s got a thicker skull than I can crack now” he smirked and pulled his helmet over his head with a finality, “You have my permission, as stand-in big brother, to keep hitting him until he bruises like a peach”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jason stepped through the zeta into a large room with low ceilings. For a second he was forced to blink furiously and he was reminded of all those times he and Dick would spend in the forest behind Wayne Manor only to come inside, at Alfred’s beckon for lunch, and be blinded by the dimmer indoors. He cursed and went to remove his helmet in hopes of adjusting to the light quicker. Before he could react properly he registered a cuss word that wasn't his, or in English. His bat-honed instincts had him throwing up his forearms before he could process a coherent thought. His fingers were splayed wide in tense ill-preparedness and his helmet visor was shieled by his forearms and elbows. The zeta tube was installed directly beside the right wall so when Jason felt something impact his spread right hand before he also found himself forcefully shouldering the wall to his right like an angry NFL linebacker.

Someone behind him came through the zeta in another flash but Jason didn't spare them a glance. He jerked his attention to where a knife was embedded in the wall…in his glove…which contained his hand. Jason balked before fury and indignation overtook and smothered the feelings of shock, “Fuck!” he yelled out. He reached out and yanked the knife out, cringing when the blade sliced the delicate skin of flesh between his fingers. Jason examined his hand as another flash registered. His glove had been sliced between the base of his pointer and index finger and Jason’s attempt to remove the blade pinning him to the wall had given him the most painful papercut ever. A small trickle of blood ran down the back of his glove where a patch of skin was visible but Jason was more furious about the stinging sensation he knew he’d have to deal l with for the next few weeks; most likely less if he actually ate well enough for the Pitt to kick in and heal him quicker.

“Hood!” Tim cried out in surprise. There was quick movement up ahead and Jason looked up to find that Kidflash had rammed their attacker in the gut before he could blink. Jason spotted Jacks, from Dick’s team, and felt his gut sink below his pelvic bone. Connor bounded over and easily helped subdue him with a single palm to his chest. Damian stepped up beside him and saw the commotion across the room, “I guess we’re in the right place” Tim noted.

Jacks squirmed under the heavy meta strength and snarled at the growing group, “How the fuck did you know we were here?” he demanded. How the fuck did we pick the right place? Jason thought.

Batman narrowed his white lethal gaze on the younger man, “How did you know this was our base?” Batman demanded.

Jacks stilled and confusion broke his features, “What? This isn- This place belongs to the Light! What the fuck are you doing here?” he looked at the now deactivated transport tube, “What the fuck is that?”

Batman glanced over his shoulder before setting his narrowed gaze on the pinned man, “Have we never officially used this base before?” Kaldur asked Batman.

Batman shook his head, “We have informants who notified us that this base was empty when the Red Cross was forced to leave mid-conflict. The region has calmed down since then though”

Roy chuckled, “So what? We built a teleportation machine and then just left? What if someone found it and worked it backward to get into Mt. Justice?”

Tim shook his head, “There’s no way that’s what happened. Someone with enough skills could crack and reconfigure the zetas so-” Tim saw something in Batman’s face, or rather that nothing changed and Tim frowned, “B, seriously? You guys just left this thing here?”

Batman frowned, “It’s one of the few that needs to be activated from another location. We cannot use it on our own. We’ll have to contact HQ to get back. There’s never been a need for us to intervene here, but we saw the advantage of already having access to this region”

“I call BS” Jacks spat. He was still flat on his back and grasping at Connot’s palm on his chest, “How are you tracking us? Bossman didn't send you any messages and we sure as hell don't want you here”

Jason clenched his fist and felt the confirmational sting between his fingers and ruined glove. He sauntered over to Jacks when Kaldur put a hand on his chest with a steady warning look. Jason rolled his shoulders back and glared, “I’m not gonna shoot him…much”

Roy chuckled, “Let him go Aqualad, he won't do anything”

Kaldur dropped his hand and Jason dropped to one knee beside the same dark-haired man who had stalked him at the bar in England, “When did you ever hear us ask for your permission to stay?

“Redhood” Batman rumbled warningly. Jason traded glares with the man on the ground and nudged his cheek with the tip of his boot, “Where are your lame ass fucking partners in crime, huh?”

Artemis nodded, “Where is everyone?”

“What were you doing in here anyway?” Wally asked. Now that Connor was responsibly keeping the man pinned, he was free to wander around the room. He spotted the crates and clear medical packaging boxes that lined the walls. Beside Jacks’ body was a discarded roll of gauze and a package of medical ties. Damian and Tim spotted them at the same time Wally reached for them, “Those are for sutures and makeshift harnesses” Batman stated lowly. He turned on Jacks with a menacing aura, “Is anyone else hurt besides Nightwing? What happened?”

Jacks’ face pinched at the demand, “How the fuck are you listening in on us?! Which one of us is tagged, huh?”

“None of your business” Robin sneered, “Maybe you forgot, but your Master waved your rights to privacy as soon as he took our brother and agreed to help us take down the Light”

Jacks’ visibly trembled as Cononor’s strength kept him unable to lash out or escape. He was stuck listening to his enemies taunt and subdue him rather easily. Batman stepped up beside his sons, “Where is my son?” he growled in a dark timbre.

Jacks’ narrowed his eyes and looked ready to spit at the Dark Knight when the Bat fell to one knee and had his large gloved hand around the Asian man’s throat before most could blink, “You will not be warned again” Batman breathed into the young man’s face, “We are aware that you and Deathstroke, and your men, are here. We are aware Nightwing is injured and in need of help. You are currently utilizing a League base for your own operations and have no advantage to resist me. My leniency to allow my son his foolish decisions does not exclude him from being my son; my son”

Jacks had stilled as soon as lethal pressure was laid against his adams apple. Batman finished speaking calmly but his intentions and menace were obvious. He nodded when it was clear that the Dark Knight was finished speaking. Roy smirked and smoothly pulled his sheathed bow from over his shoulder, Artemis followed suit, “Ok, so now that the basics are clear. We’ll just follow you back to everyone and you can update us”

With a permissioned nod from Batman, Superboy hauled Jacks to his feet with one arm. There was only one exit out of the room so it was rather self-explanatory on where to proceed out. Once they were further into the simple white-walled building, Jacks offered short directions to get them back to Slade and the rest of their men. A few turns and long hallways later, they picked up the sound shuffling sheet and occasional orders behind simple 2 paneled swinging doors.

“Why don’t we get a little welcome introduction?” Jason sneered. Roy smirked and shoved Jacks forward, opening the doors in a loud lopsided manner. The men in the room stilled as Jacks stumbled through, only to tense as Batman and his 8 young adult companions followed suit. In line with what Megan could recall, the room was filled with men dressed uniformly, but they weren't soldiers from a standardized regimented military. The entire room was dressed in black. Some wore gloves and lower face masks, while others wore bulletproof vests and cargo pants. They had previously been shuffling about, reorganizing and re-evaluating the room’s contents, before Batman had barged in. There were medical supplies and other packaged hospital-related tools scattered around the room. It wasn’t hard to notice the tang of copper in the air or the slight smears of pink and dark brown against the floors and corners of doorways beyond their group. In the center of the room, against the left wall, Deathstroke sat already facing them. He held an iPad in one hand, while his other arm was bound tightly into a cradled position against his torso in some sort of makeshift bind. Slade’s mask was fitted to his face but despite their obvious entrance, he didn't glance at them once.

“Again, Deathstroke” A deep voice cut across the screen Slade was holding in his spare hand, “You have my apologies. Queen Bee has every right to be upset with the inconveniences she was presented with, but she had no right to lash out at the boy like this” 

Slade’s eye narrowed even more than it already was, now appearing as a sliver of steel grey; reminiscent of a samurai sword’s reflection, “An attack on the boy, is an attack on myself, Savage. I don't not care how much she was inconvenienced by the failings of her men after my departure from the excavation site. She is not a child and knows better than to lash out. Especially at me” Slade hissed.

Tim and Damian shared looks before turning to Batman, “Vandal Savage” Tim mouthed, his domino mask wide. Batman nodded but they all stayed silent and watched the perturbed mercenary. After a moment of tense silence, Vandal Savage spoke again, “How is the boy? I was informed before our call that Queen Bee delivered something that seemed to affect his nervous system”

Slade grunted like a beast, “That and more” he replied dangerously, “He has been deemed unsuitable and dangerous for contact with his own men. After that witch boy delivered whatever gas she had derived from those crystals of hers, my apprentice fell into a fit and has been locked up since”

“I see” Savage replied tersely, “Do let me know if I can provide any assistance-”

“You can inform your colleague that contract or no, an affront against my heir is a move against me… which is a dangerous and lethal one for anybody; regardless of their intentions or circumstances”

“Do not mistake this call for one of pleading aid, Savage” Slade replied tonelessly, “The day I cannot manage my own student will be one that rues horribly for all of us. This is simply a forewarning since you are the ones partnered with that woman. I hope she is reminded well that she’d best think before she acts in the future. I do not take slights lightly and this assault on my man is much more than a slight”

“I understand, Deathstroke. This will be addressed. I wish to offer my thanks that you’ve reached out to me before taking action”

Slade watched the man with a lethal air but did not reply, “I am not a fool. None of us are. I am aware that she believes I either permitted sabotage by the Bat and his reckless teenagers or did not combat it well enough to prevent it. If she and Luthor would like preventative damages added on to my contract then tell that coddled man to add another zero to my check stubs”

Vandal Savage grunted, “You are not foolish, Deathstroke. Which is why I know you will not act recklessly when the entirety of the Light can become your enemy far too quickly. Again, this will be addressed. Let me know if I can provide any aid or relief for your men or the boy while he…recovers”

Slade rolled his shoulders and tilted his head, offering an audible crack. Artemis cringed at the synonymousness of the sound with an authentic broken neck, “I am not a foolish man, Savage. Merely a pridefully greedy one. I do not care for any threats or disproportionate power leverages to be executed. We both know that if this happens again, without my knowledge or permission; there will be consequences. You'll see us soon anyway”

He pressed a button which seemed to end the call suddenly. He looked up with the same unreadable lethal air and laid eyes on his guests. 

“Sir,” Jacks said stiffly. He stood up and offered a head bow, “I came across Batman and the others while scouting for more supplies deeper in the west wing. They claim this is a Justice League base and seem to know a great deal of our current …predicament”

“Is that so?”

All sets of eyes lunged from Deathstroke to Jack and back to Deathstroke, “What has Queen Bee done to Dick?” Tim demanded.

Damian nodded, “She will pay for hurting him”

Jason clasped a hand on each boy and stepped forward, “I think our first question is” he turned to Slade, “Where the fuck is Dick?”

Kaldur and Wally nodded. Slade seemed to lean back and casually observe the room, “I see you brought Luthor’s pet clone along. Were you expecting to arm wrestle Bane, perhaps?” Slade asked liesuely. Connor growled but Kaldur kept him back with a quiet word.

“Enough games, Deathstroke” Batman snapped, “Where is my son? We know he is hurt. He broke through Miss Martian’s shields to call for aid. What are you doing to him?”

Slade nodded, “Ahh, the Manhunter’s niece, yes I remember when she pervaded the boy’s brain some time ago. I'm surprised it took this long for their mental connection to be re-established”

“Wilson” Batman snapped, “My patience is thin enough. Where is my son?”

Slade narrowed his eye and leaned forward, slipping off the desk’s edge like a copper-colored panther, “Are you warning me, Wayne? Has my lackadaisical behavior pushed you over the edge?”, Slade’s tone held an edge that begged for Batman to start something. Despite the mercenary’s arm being in a sling, the man looked tensed and hungry for violence, hungry for something to subdue.

“What happened to your arm?” Wally demanded.

“Yeah,” Roy chuckled, “You throw out your shoulder jerking off?” Jason chuckled snidely which drew Slade’s sharp attention.

A door opening across the far room redirected attention as Ronan and Kris entered, dressed similarly to everyone else in the room. Kris was dressed in a high neck with short sleeves and a thinned bullet-proof vest while Ronan wore a tight black compression shirt, slim cargo pants, and cutoff shoulders, baring arms that reflected the amount of armory practice he’d had over the years. They stopped as they spotted the new guests and froze, looking to Desthstroke for directions or answers. Just beyond them further down the hall came a series of thuds and muted bellows.

Kaldur looked past Ronan and Kris with an expression of disguised disgust, “What beast do you have back there? Is this some strange mission for the Light?”

“Is that another clone?” Wally asked, shocked. Connor shot him a sharp look but Artemis shrugged, “You did just yell and break stuff a lot when we found you” she said.

Damian, still beside Tim offered a stifled gasp and tensed. Tim looked at Damian, but Batman turned towards the paid killer sharply, “What has been done to Richard?”

Slade’s head stayed high but his gaze became lidded in a gleefully dark manner, “I see the brains work like osmosis in this family” he said watching Damian and Tim realize together.

“Where is he?” Connor demanded too.

“That is him” Damian spat without turning towards the tall clone.

“What?” Artemis gasped. Wally jerked and looked at the open crowded doorway. He was already in position to lunge forward and speed down the hallway when a bullet hole stopped him in his tracks. Wally gasped and staggered back, completely unprepared for the attack. He waved his arms to maintain his balance and he whipped around to stare down Slade. The man merely lowered his gun back to his hip and clicked it into place at his thigh. Slade sighed and placed his free hand on his hip, “You need to learn to teach these brats self-control before someone else does it more permanently” Slade said to Batman as if it was simple parenting advice and not a lethal threat.

Jason snarled in response, “You fucking…I’ll show you a fucking gu-” he was seconds from pulling his own gun when Roy shot him a look. Both men shared a look before Jason set his seething glare back on Deathstroke and lowered his arm. Slade smirked but Jason spat, “One of these days I’m gonna watch you get dismembered until you can't come back from it”

Slade’s shoulders rose briefly, “I look forward to the day you’re a genuine threat”

Jason snapped around to Slade, “You shut your fucking perv mouth before I shoot your other eye out”

Slade was about to reply just as scathingly when a commotion at the door drew his attention. Batman and Slade both turned to see Ronan and Kris trying to deny access to Kaldur and Connor. Connor looked seconds away from ripping a hole in the wall to create a personal doorway. Ronan held a small blinking device in one hand and a slightly larger automatic glock in the other. Kris had one hand barred and pressed forward to keep Kaldur back and the other was gripping a shorthand katana blade, “Back off” she ordered. Slade looked to Ronan with a calm demeanor, calmer than he should have been considering they’d just barged into his temporary base. Batman narrowed his eyes on the pair as Slade looked to Ronan and received a single nod in response. He reached for his sons, keeping them within arms reach as his 6th senses started to scream at the subtle, quickly growing, signs around them.

“What's your play, Deathstroke?” Batman demanded. His sons looked at him and stilled, leading to a snowball effect from the surrounding teens around them. Slade inclined his head like he was pleased that Batman had picked up on something.

“Make sure you watch whose feet you step on Wayne. I was attempting to handle this outside your purview…a sort of courtesy for your delicate senses, but actions have consequences and next time I won't be so pleasant in my handling of the situation”

Jason’s shoulders threw themselves up, “What the fuck are you goin' on about?” he snapped. Damian was still halted in place by Batman’s grip but couldn't stop throwing glances down the doorway where Connor and Kaldur were still being kept from. A sudden gasp from the back had everyone turning to where Artemis was staring at her right with wide eyes; her mouth gaped. Roy’s brow furrowed and he went to ask what was wrong when the nearest soldier to him suddenly blinked out of existence. Roy jumped and cursed in surprise. The black-clad man had suddenly disappeared without a sound or even a flash of light.

“They’re escaping!” Batman called out. Connor immediately lunged for Kris and caught her against the wall. Batman set his dark gaze on Slade and found the man already watching him with an amused smugness. Before he could call out another order, Batman registered another figure disappearing from his periphery, the box at his feet vanishing with him. 

“Dick!” Tim exclaimed. Batman almost restrained Tim by his side but held off as he trusted Tim not to run off without backup. He searched for Damian and Jason, calming slightly when he found them attempting to restrain opponents before they disappeared. Bruce jerked to the side when he realized that the dark-skinned boy, Jacks had disappeared already. The Dark Knight set his lethal attention on Deathstroke and realized that their appearance wasn't a shock to Wilson, whether or not they’d genuinely caught Jacks off guard, by using the decommissioned zeta tubes didn't seem to matter, Wilson had known they were there the moment they appeared. Batman tried racking his brain for any hidden codes or keywords the mercenary might've used in his call to Savage-anything that might've initiated this impromptu teleportation, but he couldn't think of what it could be and knew that any extra brain power diverted from their current situation could be disastrous.

He glared at the other man mutinously as he realized that they had no way of determining how Slade’s men were being teleported or how to stop it, “Don’t touch them!” Batman called out. He didn't want anyone being accidentally teleported into the enemy’s base; wherever that may be. Connor looked like he wanted to argue, but saw how Roy and Kaldur had backed off of their opponents, and relented. He looked to Tim who was standing firmly beside Batman with a tense, restrained expression. He pushed up just as Kris smirked and blipped away like the rest of them. Batman clenched his jaw and prowled forward, itching to put his hands on the killer, “If my son is hurt…” Bruce threatened.

Slade chuckled, “Oh, he’s been hurt…is hurt…will most likely get hurt again in the future” his eye darkened dramatically, “But I didn't call you, so you, Wayne, are an unwelcome distraction until I deem differently” his expression cleared to one of aloofness in an instant, “You’ll be hearing from us”

Batman stared angrily at the wall where the killer was previously, just when Wally exclaimed, “Dick!” A yellow and red flash disappeared down the hallway with Damian at his heels. Roy and Artemis followed as Jason chided, “He’s not in there! Why the hell would they leave and not take him?”

No one answered so Jason rolled his eyes and proceeded closer, following them into the previously barred hallway and down towards where they’d heard the banging and groaning. They were standing there staring at a wall of metal. The sleek walls almost looked like they were intended to create a smaller room inside the one the hallway had just taken them to. He was seconds from swatting Damian over the back of the head, “Don’t ignore me you little sh-”

Jason trailed off as he followed their gazes to see a sleek metal opening. It gave way to a slightly smaller room where no one was found. Jason fell silent as well, noticing the large puddle of dark, nearly black, blood coalescing on the floor. His gaze dragged from the outside of the walls to the inside where sharp scratches and powerful indents were made inside, but unable to be spotted from outside the strange metal box. While the sight was bad for a handful of reasons, and spelled nothing but trouble for Dick, Jason could only find himself feeling tired-internally exhausted in a way that couldn't be conveyed through words. He heaved a sigh as they were once again greeted with the evidence of their brother’s suffering only to be robbed of the origin point and their actual brother. He clenched his hands, yearning for the familiar hazy green rage that helped him cover up everything vulnerable, everything that wasn't hard crass anger. But he found it just wasn't there, his nails bit into his skin from beneath his torn gloves, but the anger refused to surface, refused to wash his vision green. And Jason was left feeling so, so tired. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“What is that infernal sound?” Ra’s stopped what he was doing and cast a snide look over his shoulder to the partially jarred door. He, Queen Bee, Klarion, Psimon, and Savage were all in attendance for a meeting while Luthor was unavailable. Technically Black Manta should have attended as well but he claimed to be busy with something that Atlantis had done against him, presenting him an opportunity to cause chaos under the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. Queen Bee waved the older man off dismissively as she read through a report of her own, “Deathstroke and his pet, I believe” she said in a noncommittal tone.

“They’re back already?” Ra’s inquired as he returned to what he was reading.

Savage nodded, “Queen Bee allowed me to lend Klarion to Deathstroke for a sudden retrieval of him and his men. While he intended to sequester the boy away to wait out the …effects” he cast a glance knowing towards Queen Bee who stiffed her lip and refused to make eye contact, “Batman and his brood made themselves aware of the issue and showed up, it seems. Deathstroke requested an evac so I’m assuming they still need to deal with the boy…calm him down, I assume”

Ra’s nodded, “I’ll send some of my more expendable men to help quiet the situation” he suggested in a blase tone. He tilted his head to the right, just barely, and snapped his fingers once. A second later, a 5 foot 11 sized shadow seemed to melt from the walls around them and come forward. He was entirely undefinable outside of his large lean frame. The man was covered head to toe in dark desert wrappings and the only skin laid bare was the slip allowing his eyes and brow free. He offered a deep bow and made his way to the exit of the room where they were currently holding their meeting. 

“Now” Queen Bee said. She set her papers down in a way that offered elegance to the simple movement of her long splayed fingers, “What is to be done about the indecisiveness plaguing our current mission?”

The corner of Ra’s lip twitched subtly, “Are you asking for help in how to solve indecisiveness? My dear, even you must be able to see the irony”

She scowled and tapped the edges of her nails in a claw-like manner, “Has Luthor confirmed who he wishes to pursue first?” she replied in a snidely sweet manner. 

Savage leaned back and turned to Ra’s, interested as well. Ra’s placed his ink pen down and folded his hands together on the table, “He has a list of finalists, you could say”

Savage was not impressed by the prolonged reveal, “And?” he demanded calmly.

Ra’s looked at him from the corner of his eye without moving his head. He sighed and looked back to Queen Bee, “Lydia Ryland is amongst them. Some other names that will no doubt catch the Justice League’s attention as well actually”

Savage growled and leaned forward, “What does Luthor think he is playing at?” the dark-haired man demanded. Ra’s looked back cooly, “World domination most likely” he responded. His gaze flicked down to Savage’s tensed form and clenched fists as if the man’s expression of emotion was disgusting. Savage growled back, “He knows that she and Cobb are on the chopping block. She is an Owl. It is only a when and not an if; they will die. The boy and Deathstroke are set on it”

Queen Bee cooed, “How lovely, and you want to ensure the boy exacts his justice, do you?”

Savage snarled at her, “I want to ensure that Deathstroke does not see us interfering with his future target and takes the boy elsewhere. I-”

“Yes yes yes” She rolled her eyes, “You need the boy. You want the boy. His genes and whatnot”

“Do keep in mind that these things you have pointed out are not exclusive” Ra’s interrupted. he spoke to Savage but looked to the woman with a pointed look. He then offered a level look to the immortal man, “Deathstroke can still set the boy on Ryland if done properly and in the right time. Luthor’s plans to use a chip on Ryland are objectively for her company and funds. The woman herself does not matter. Once Luthor has access to those, I’m confident he will care very little if the woman parishes”

Savage grumbled, displeased at being so coddled and appeased early on in his tirade. Undeterred, he was prepared to insist again when a loud singular bang sounded off. Psimon was the only one to visibly jump, but all heads turned towards the partially ajar door. No one spoke as Deathstroke nudged the door open with the tip of his boot and stepped inside. He had his apprentice thrown over his shoulder like a gangly sack of potatoes. The boy’s fingertips were brushing the back of the mercenary’s calves with every heavy step and there was a steady red trail following the pair’s pathway.

Queen Bee’s lip curled but Ra’s spoke instead, “You killed the boy?” he seemed vaguely amused more than anything. Deathstroke was dressed in full armor but the blood was entirely too visible, even against the black cloth between his armor. His chest and right side were splattered with blood and the opposite side, the side not maintaining a hold over the small of the boy’s back, was in a sling.

“Maybe” was all he said.

“Now” Savage grinned like a shark, motioning toward Slade's cradled arm, “That's not something you see every day”

Slade glanced towards the arm that wasn't draped over the boy and pulled it taunt, slowly flexing it until the stained white cloth unraveled and fell to the floor, “It was just a scratch” he replied. Savage leaned forward with a hungry energy, “The boy did that?” he almost panted.

Deathstroke nodded like it wasn’t a big deal. He turned to Ra’s, “You need to replace 2 men”

Ra’s lip ticked slightly, “Only 2?”

Slade shrugged slightly, “Technically 2 bodies, but those first 3 were so useless, I doubt you’d notice their loss in manpower”

Ra’s seemed to find that humorous but didn't respond with anything besides a courteous dip of his head. Slade hefted the boy up higher over his shoulder before walking over to Queen Bee. The woman sat stiffly with her arms crossed, but refused to look up at the white-haired killer as he approached. Slade noticed and seemed to find it amusing instead of irritating. He looked to Savage and found the man already watching the pair, waiting for an explosive interaction after her poisoning of the boy. He and Wilson both had a deep level of investment seeded into the young man but knew that the fact that the boy had chosen Wilson for the time being gave the man’s overinflated ego an extra fluffing. A man that powerful was near deadly if he had that much unnecessary confidence as well. 

Queen Bee was still and firm in her efforts to avoid eye contact when a splatter of red from the boy’s hung head caused her to flinch in surprise. She looked up scathingly but froze when she made eye contact with the contract killer. They watched each other for a long while Vandal savage knew better. It wasn't a stand-off, it was a silent communication; a threat that Wilson was taking his sweet masochistic time with.

At some point, he must’ve decided that the lithe dark-skinned woman had gotten the message and he moved to step away, “I’ll send you the medical bill” he joked. Queen Bee watched him go with a tight expression but Vandal knew her pride had been wounded. The message was clear enough for the entire room to read and hear it… Don't touch my stuff.

Slade turned to head for the door as Ra’s called out for him, “Deathstroke, I wish to discuss some matters pertaining to Batman and my grandson's company that seems to be pecking at your heels”

Slade dipped his head, “My men and I will be staying for at least a week” he said gruffly, exiting the room.

“Barbarian” Queen Bee muttered under her breath. Vandal Savage almost laughed as the man was simply a redneck, raised in the American South. Vandal Savage was a truer barbian than anyone in that room, having been affected by whatever magical alien-based properties fell from the sky thousands of years ago. It had taken his mind and body a while to catch up and progress, but whatever had made him immortal greatly improved his mental capacities as well. Savage turned to Queen Bee with a displeased expression, “You’re quite lucky he was willing to listen to me; to reason” he informed her.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as if she wasn't just cowering beneath the behemoth mercenary a minute ago, “And what was promised to him, exactly?” She drolled.

Savage leaned back, “Nothing”

She narrowed her eyes, “Nothing?” she was unconvinced. Savage nodded, “I ensured him something like this wouldn't happen again, of course, but he did not request anything from you or me”

“For now” she sneered.

“You assume far more than necessary of the man” Ra’s said from where his eyes were scanning a new report. He looked up when he sensed he had their attention, “Slade Wilson is a dangerous man, yes, but he is quite simple, more so than most give him credit for. He has few desires outside of his own autonomy and paychecks” Ra’s lip ticked up, “And you just attacked one of those few interests”

Queen Bee scoffed, “The man is a buffoon. He is only a credit to his field because of that governmental experiment he was lucky enough to survive. Simple men are of no threat to me” she declared boldly.

Ra’s dipped his head as if to admit she was a formidable woman, but the darkness strikingness his gaze did not deter, “Simple men are often the most dangerous” he said simply, “Less” his gaze slid to Savage, “Conflicts”

“Klarion” she snapped, changing the topic at hand. The dark-haired lean magic user scurried to her side and Ra’s curled his lip in distaste at the boy. He was quite obviously mentally unstable but his skills were far too useful to disregard, he was how Savage had gotten Deathstroke and his men back to the mountain so quickly after all. Ra’s suspected that Queen Bee utilized Psimon to manage and maintain a hold over the boy’s mind, “How is the retrieval coming along?” she asked without glancing over her shoulder to where he stood. He nodded and twirled his fingers in his dark gelled hair, “Welllllll”

She turned and sent him a withering look, but he threw his hands up quickly, “Joking!” he giggled while no one else seemed amused, “It’s fiiine. I’ve figured out a few that don’t have her. I think in a week or so I’ll know which one to focus on”

“And everything for the retrieval spell is already prepared?” she asked. Psimon nodded in the back, “Yes”

She nodded and relaxed slightly, “Good, keep me informed”

Ra’s sat straighter with interest, “So you are moving forward with this magical child?”

Klarion frowned as the term wasn't referring to him for once. Savage cocked his head as he listened, “Yes” she replied simply.

“You’re trying to acquire another magic user?” Savage demanded in his best polite tone.

Queen Bee offered in a parting glance, “In a sense” she said, “There is a child I’ve caught wind of from Klarion’s time in other worlds and versions of our own. Unfortunately, our world is one where the child does not exist but she seems to be quite powerful in the planes she does inhabit”

“What is so special about this girl?” Savage asked. 

“Nothing” Klaion muttered at the same time Queen Bee purred, “Everything”

“The girl’s lineage is connected to a powerful demon, and in most worlds, the girl is used by her otherworldly father to inhabit the earth and bring about the end of days”

“She’s a sacrifice for Satanists?” Savage seemed unimpressed. He’d seen his fair share of sacrifices that ultimately did nothing over the years. She shook her head, undeterred by his disbelief, “This child has so much natural power that she is the only one that can withstand the power of her father, a demonic being. I want her... if nothing more than for Klarion to be able to improve his witchcraft off of her abundant magical essence. I’m currently having him look for a world where the child has become aware and familiar with her abilities but before her father sees fit to use her death or body for anything”

“You’re going to kidnap this demon child and bring it here as a pet?” Savage blinked, “I know very little of sorcery, but I do know that you’re inviting trouble by stealing like that”

Queen Bee smiled in a delightfully dark way, “That’s the wonderful thing about these other worlds and dimensions…certain people.... certain events are so crucial to the preplanned nature of a world that they cannot survive with it. This girl is one of them for certain worlds. Once she is gone, the fabric, the time-reliant webs will cease to have anything structural to cling to”

“She goes with me” Klarion made a cartoon walking motion with his 2 fingers and then poked himself in the chest, “And then that world goes poof!” he blew a fast breath out from between puffed cheeks. 

Savage withheld the urge to thin his lips at the news that Queen Bee would be bringing on another magic user. She had Psimon and Klarion at her beck and call and now the Light would be permitting her to kidnap an out-of-dimension demonic child as well? Savage knew it wasn't as simple as the Light simply forbidding her from acting in her own interest but Savage knew he wasn't the only one aware of how openly the woman was accumulating power around her. He brought his fists up to prop his lips against, to hide his displeasure, and found himself making eye contact with Ra’s Al Ghul across the table. The man seemed to either share the same sentiment or understand what Savage was feeling before a humorous glint tickled the light in his dark eyes. Savage gritted his teeth that Ra’s found it all amusing and not burdensome. It was just as he’d told Deathstroke, too many integral members of the Light were making obvious power plays and no one was doing anything about it. The Light’s implosion was a when and not an if and Savage was determined not to be caught under the falling rubble of their calamity. 

“I’ll inform Luthor then” Ra’s replied. Queen Bee nodded, “Do so, I believe he was interested in the child as well”

“Speaking of which” Savage hissed with a small smile, “How is that side project your daughter is working on?”

Ra’s narrowed his eyes as Savage brought up something he hadn't on purpose. Queen Bee arched a brow in curiosity and turned to Ra’s expectantly. Ra’s sighed and folded his hands together before him, “Adaquately” he said. Both members continued to stare him down, silently demanding more. Ra’s lips thinned as he gazed back at Savage, “Talia has reported that Dr. Amanik has finished as of 2 nights ago, but the body needs more incubation time to fully process and develop”

Queen Bee dropped her arms and leaned into the table more, “But the boy is done? Truly?”

Ra’s nodded, looking more pleased with himself now, “Indeed. Talia will take over and make sure everything is going according to plan”

“When will you initiate the change?” Savage inquired.

Ra’s folded the papers in front of him together and placed them aside, “Soon” he said, “There are too many factors at play and the detective is moving his sons too constantly for me to ensure that this move goes unnoticed. I don’t want Deathstroke to be made aware of this either as his student will no doubt become a problem within the hour”

Savage nodded, “Most likely” he agreed, "He cares for all of the bat's boys despite not being blood-related"

Queen Bee looked affronted, "The Robins are not Batman's by blood?"

Ra's shook his head, "Only my grandson, the current Robin, is"

Queen Bee crossed her arms and sniffed, "One would think the man simply did not know when to cease making children with how similar those dark-haired brats all look. I think it is safe to have Deathstroke and the boy continue as they have been” Queen Bee included, “The Terminator and his men will be too busy with the list of names you have given him” she said to Savage, “And the remaining Court members, to become a severe nuisance before we are ready”

“On that note” Queen Bee’s lips lit up like she was looking forward to causing more chaos, “What has been the verdict there? With William at least”

Psimon leaned forward from where he was seated in the back, “Luthor is not present, perhaps we sh-”

Queen Bee snapped around venomously, “I do not need a bald germaphobe to dictate to me what questions I can and cannot pose” she spat. Psimon tensed and then nodded, averting his eyes. Queen Bee turned back around in her seat and crossed her legs as if she hadn't just snarled at the physic. Ra’s lips were turned down in disapproval but he chose not to point out her behavior. He shared a look with Savage before he answered, “Along the lines of what you suggested” he replied, “The remaining Court members offer us a well-needed distraction for the detective and Deathstroke. We need to ensure that William is not taken out before his uses to us run out, but for the time being, the games of cat and mouse that he is playing with the Grayson boy have proven effective for us. We have promised him… protection” Ra’s chose the word delicately, “While he is in hiding. He knows that he can no longer offer us anything more and is playing nice for now”

“Good” Savage rumbled, “He tried reaching out to promise me he would acquire the boy back from Wilson” Savage barked out a cruel laugh, “What a fool! No one steals from Wilson that easily”

Ra’s dipped his head, “Yes, well, while we are waiting for pieces of this puzzle to come together we do need to ensure he stays alive the longest”

“How many members are they down to now?” Queen Bee asked.

“4” Ra’s answered, “Although there have been reports of missing persons that might be related, Deathstroke has asked us to smother these for the time being”

“So how many? Really? Queen Bee asked with malicious intrigue dancing on his lips.

“4, including William” Ra’s answered simply. 

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

Slade leaned over and let the boy slide smoothly off his shoulder and onto the made bedspread. The gentleness he put into the transition was reflective of his regret for pushing the boy too hard. He stood there for a few minutes, just to watch the boy breathe deeply. If not for the small nickel-sized bullet hole in his temple, he’d look absolutely peaceful. He could've been mistaken for a young man who’d come home too late from a college party and had just collapsed in his day clothing and all. He couldn't help staring at the boy. His own bird of prey. He was surprised when Batman and his brats showed up unexpectedly, but his own monitoring systems and the soldier they cornered initially gave Slade’s enhanced sense enough notice to collect himself when they barged in. He was fortunate enough to have already been on a call to Savage, as the older man understood his verbiage and arranged transport for them on the spot. It had been quick so Slade assumed it was some strange spell generated by the deranged magic brat in the suit. He’d barely managed to back the kid up enough to seal him away in that containment cell that the Red Cross base had for metas and violent detoxing patients. It must have been a base built after the 90s for them to guestimate that they’d need such a human-sized container.

Shooting the boy point blank hadn't been ideal but it was the most efficient way to end his tantrum. After Queen Bee's pet magician had gassed 3 of his men while patrolling with Dick he'd gone rampant. He’d been surprised, mid-scuffle, when the boy refused to release his forearm, deciding to take it with him when he flipped over his master's shoulder. The boy had a mean streak that ran deep, only ever coming out when he was inebriated beyond his wits. But Slade wouldn't deny it had been exhilarating. He could count the times he'd been so full of emotion, whether it be joy, arousal, panic, or anger that led to his heart in his throat and his stomach tumultuously flipping out of control. The more time went on, the more those rare instances were being claimed by Dick Grayson.

Thy boy’s lips were calm and relaxed, along with the usual stiff brow he wore on his face. Slade ran a hand through his ivory dark locks as the trail of blood ran up and past his hairline, still wet and leaking brain matter. Slade would only concern himself with his bird’s welfare if the bullet didn't dislodge within an hour or two. After that, he should regain consciousness within a few hours, maybe more if he was as exhausted as he appeared. 

Slade stilled his hand in his bird’s soft hair and thumbed his temple absentmindedly. He pushed his little bird of prey too hard and hadn't realized it until his mental capacity and attitude had started to fail him. The boy had always had a fiery temper, quick to fluidly change and adapt to the extremes surrounding him, but lately, the boy had been brutish and crass, wrathful and obtuse even to his teammate’s attempt to acquire affection from him. Slade had been displeased by the obvious shock and stillness that his brothers, especially the youngest brat, had evoked in his kid but after the previous few weeks of absolute bliss and compliance, Slade had forgotten how much of a turbulent road he had ahead of him. He shouldn't have lost his temper when the kid’s emotional boundaries and firmness slipped beneath the presence of his family, especially after his body and hormones had worked against him to fall into such a chaotic feral state of mind. He knew that Dick had been crazed and out of control partly due to the overwhelming emotions he'd forced the boy to suffer lately. Dick couldn't be blamed for that.

In retrospect, Slade knew he should not have been so quick to express his irritation because the boy, as he had always been, was overly receptive to them. He, like most people pleasers, couldn't help but respond to and try to counter the emotions he received from others. Slade found it so pleasing to see this, but in the long run, knew it wasn't beneficial or productive for what he wanted to inspire in the boy. The independence and drive he wanted to feed inside Dick, apart from his dependence on Slade, had to be nurtured in positive ways. Slade had seen how horribly he broke apart when he was given nothing but negative conditioning as a training tool; the Court had succeeded in ways Slade would never count as a win. The boy was almost entertaining in how his responses to others were a direct reflection of his relationship with Slade. If The man became frustrated and pushed him away, a week later, Slade could see the same behavior making itself known between his little bird and those 3 underlings of his.

He wasn’t blind to how horrible of a mood the kid had been in because of Slade’s disapproval and cold shoulder. Slade had despised the way Dick looked at Damian and Bruce Wayne, and had let it be known. Unfortunately, he had let it continue for too long and now the boy was self-destructing internally. Something that Wintergreen would no doubt have something to say about, the older man had already tried talking to him about Dick’s awful sleep habits recently but he’d been too busy to sit down and talk house with the old man. Slade would never admit it, could barely theorize it in the privacy and sanctity of his own head, but he knew the kid was safe and bound to his side. Even before the kid feared himself, he knew the kid found the challenge and pressure he presented to be just as addicting as Slade found his little fiery bird to be. He knew the kid was already attached to him, he was simply a greedy man and wanted to see how far he could press the boy. It was a warped test that the boy could not have passed because he either had to break himself tying himself into knots over Slade’s recent emotional rejection of him, or he had to fail Slade’s ultimate goal and prove that he didn't care for his master’s approval and opinion.

Slade never looked away from the serene boy’s face once, finding a strange sort of grounding in the way he could clasp onto the boy’s cheek or soft ruffled hair. He was really only a child playing an adult’s game. A game that many adults would never make it through. The boy was emotionally stunted to begin with, anyone would be after being raised by the Batman, but the boy had been virtually detained in time after being murdered at 17. Slade knew he had a young man on his hands but his little bird was still a child. Still striving after emotional fulfillment everywhere except himself and still trying to find his purpose, his sole gratification to make each day worth it. He needed to reel it in, Slade could clearly see that now. He needed to make sure the boy felt Slade’s assurance-that no matter how angry he was- the boy could not earn true rejection from him. He needed to make sure the boy felt Slade come back to him almost like a healthy parent would come to a punished child after to ensure that the child knew and understood what was done wrong. The child would agree not to do it again, and even if they did relapse and make the same mistake, the emotional guilt, and contriteness were already learned by this action. Slade needed to separate himself from Wayne by teaching Richard that while he may become furious with the boy at times, he could never drive his master away as he had succeeded with his adopted father. At least, that was how the boy saw it currently and Slade was not eager to challenge that broken mentality at the moment. If not for Slade’s failings in helping his bird maneuver these murky waters, he might've been able to avoid his current situation.

Wayne had helped him much more than he though he would by adding the boy’s hero identity to the international backlist, but Slade would take the unexpected advantage in stride and continue on. He had to remind himself that in the end, he didn't care what the boy chose as long as it wasn't Wayne. It was time to start treating the boy like what he really was: a young man in desperate need of a support system. The kid didn't deserve for Slade to go as far as he did, and while he’d never outright admit it, Slade could see the damage his toxicity and reactions had caused in such a short amount of time. The boy especially wasn't used to rejection or being iced out by Slade. The boy had only ever known irritation and obsession from his master, something Slade wanted to inspire in return in the coming years. 

The kid’s body elicited a violent shiver that turned into a jerk before he fell still. Slade didn't bat an eye, strange movements, and physical reactions were common when the body was trying to mend itself. Synapses were attempting to spark and jerky muscles were stitching themselves back together. The electrum and white blood cells were probably rushing all around trying to figure out how to force the bullet out of his brain. 

No, he accepted Dick with open arms and made him his, just as he always should have been, but he knew that the kid would never turn his brothers away, never be able to stray far from them for long. And that was ok for Slade. He had no real issue with the Demon Head's brat or the rough Redhood or the up-and-coming detective in the Drake boy. They acted as his boy’s support system and were not too far away from thinking coarsely and differently from the bat as well. Slade knew that offering his boy concessions, like his brothers, would only endear his bird to him. Slade had to start playing with his head and not his heart if he wanted to keep his boy around, and unlike Wayne, ensure his bird's happiness at the same time. Something the boy no doubt deserved at this point in his life. His bird was merely pushing the boys away because he’d convinced himself he was dangerous and that only Slade could handle his destructive tendencies. Slade wasn't about to combat this mentality as he quite liked the way the boy cowed under him and from others now; but that mentality would change. Whether it be in one year or 20. He and his boy had eternity now, so Slade could see how practicing some leniency and a longer leash would be healthy for each of them in retrospect. 

He knew that Ra’s would seek him out soon but while he had the boy quiet and vulnerable, Slade couldn't resist the urge to arrange him against his side and relax on the bed alongside him. It was much more common to find them like that in the beginning. His little bird would spend a few days ranting and going on bouts that would tire him out physically and mentally, only to collapse at his Master’s side, seeking aid and direction for the next few days. The cycle would start all over and Slade was all too willing to enjoy it while his pretty bird found his footing day by day. He knew, with a conviction that went beyond his common reasonings, that he’d never let the boy go. Not until he unequivocally chose his master.

Chapter 21

Notes:

Hey there! little bit of spicey spice in this ch

“Again”

Dick nodded and dragged a hand through his limp sweaty locks. He appreciated the shorter shaved hair against his nape but the longer locks had a habit of falling into his face during sparring. Slade stood against the far wall of the room as 4 more shadows stepped forward. When he’d woken up 4 days ago to find that he’d been in and out of it for almost a whole week, Dick had been fully prepared to suffer through Slade’s ire. The man was no doubt irritated that Dick had fallen victim to some magical drugging from Queen Bee, a retaliation for the completed, but inconvenienced, mission in the desert. He’d come to in that groggy familiar way that made him realize he had died during his blackout, but the way Slade wasn't storming through the caved hallways of the League of Shadows made Dick think it was more likely that he’d been put down. He’d been prepared for a beating between his handful of lectures but the man didn't utter a single word about the incident. Dick had been confused, and then fearful, and then confused. He was expecting punishment, especially after how clear it was that Slade had been furious with him over how he froze in front of Bruce and his brothers. But the man said nothing. He did nothing and Dick found himself 4 days into training like nothing was wrong. It had his hackles rising by day 2 but day 4 was upon them and Dick was now wondering if Slade was truly intending to let it all go. 

Dick wouldn't let the opportunity pass, that was for sure. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was pathetic. He’d seen the way Kris and the others looked at him, when Slade finally allowed him out of bed, but Dick hated the lack of personable contact more than he coveted his pride. Either the man was forgiving him or preparing a larger, worse punishment that fretting over would do nothing for him. He made sure to return every question with a nod. He made sure to make his effort so apparent that his ligaments screamed under the strain. he did his best, truly.

All 4 men descended on him at once and Dick was more than ready. He met the first man head-on and leaped over his shoulders with an ease that almost brought a smile to his lips. He landed and didn't give himself a second before throwing his right shoulder into a roll. He tackled the second one by his calves and took them down in a clumsy mess. Dick quickly maneuvered himself into a grappling armbar of the assassin and pulled. The man choked back a cry but refused to cry out. While he was on the ground the other two tackled the both of them and Dick used his hold over the second man to twist and cover himself in a shield. The second man cried out as whatever elbows or fists were meant for Dick landed on their comrade instead. Dick threw his head back and nailed someone in the chin, earning a curse and less weight on his back. He heaved back his shoulders and threw them off into a stumbling heap. The second man struggled to stand as he held his twisted injured arm in his opposite hand. A third man reached over his shoulder and brought down a bostaff, twirling it menacingly between his palm and fingers. He jerked it down and extended it twice its length. He charged Dick and swung, stopping halfway through to suddenly jab at Dick’s midsection. Dick lunged at the man at the same time he swung and hopped to the balls of his feet as the bo-staff was directed sharply at him. His hop took him just high enough to spread his legs and hop over the jutted-out metal. The man seemed momentarily stunned as Dick threw himself at the man and over his weapon, but Dick was quick to continue his advantage. He gripped the end of the bostaff he was leaping over and jerked it towards him. The metal slipped through the fingers of his glove and Dick yanked the rest of it down in a quick hard motion until he was able to throw all his weight onto his end and lean onto it in a strange pole vaulting-type move. He flipped over his assailant and landed on his feet, smoothly transferring his grip over the metal staff to swing it like a baseball bat.

The third man ducked just in time but Dick’s senses screamed at him to keep going in a larger arch. He continued the swing until his back foot almost slipped from the wide turn. At the very last second the fourth man cried out as Dick caught the end of his ear and jaw with the metal staff’s end. The man tumbled to the ground just as Dick felt the air around him tense and fluctuate with another charging body. He fell to the floor in a snappy plank position, scraping his elbows and palms on the way down. The third man wasn't prepared and tried to recorrect his footing as Dick suddenly became an obstacle for his feet instead of a target. He flipped over Dick and landed in a crouch. He waited for Dick to find his footing and watched him with narrowed eyes. Dick watched him back, realizing his last opponent wasn't about to let Dick flip him around like a fool as he did the others.

A sharp whistle drew both their attention and Dick watched as Slade tossed the last shadow-in-training a hand knife. The assassin caught it and twirled it deftly. He didn't allow Dick a moment to curse out his own teacher and leaped at Dick. Dick ducked and spun around in time to block a downward dive of the blade. He brought up his arms in an x and they clanged forearms, sending a nasty vibration through his hands; almost like a funny bone sensation. Dick gritted his teeth and shoved the man away. He took a few steps back before he was right in Dick’s face again. He swung down and threw a punch up, not allowing Dick a second to breathe; forcing him to multitask as he was caught on the defensive every half second. He brought up a knee to force his opponent back, but the man merely sidestepped and swung his arms out sideways. Dick leaned back and grabbed the arm, pulling it towards him. The shadow tried twisting his grip so the blade was pointed at Dick's face, as he pulled them together, but brought his other fist up mid-turn and drove it into the sensitive fleshy part of his underarm. The grip over the knife grew weak and Dick took his opportunity to turn the tides quickly. He jabbed an elbow into the man’s jaw just as he kicked out at his far back foot. The man was putting more of his weight on that leg so his balance was ripped from him the moment Dick forced that leg back. His mouth met Dick’s elbow and the combination of the attack dropped the man in a daze. Dick hadn’t heard a call to stop so he took the knife without looking, flipped it into his hand, and spun once to gain momentum before slashing his leg down in a powerful vertical arch. At the last moment, he stopped the leg centimeters from the man’s throat, a threat to shatter his collarbone, “Yield?”

The shadow looked up at him with narrowed brown eyes and spat something in Arabic. Dick wasn’t fluent but he could understand that much. He rolled his eyes before throwing back his leg to follow through on the movement this time when a whistle cut through. He stopped and looked up at Slade. The man was relaxed back against the cave wall and had his arms crossed. He was dressed in his uniform, sans his guns, straps, and multitude of knives that usually lined his boots and thighs, “Enough, apprentice”

The man below Dick started to protest when Slade shot him a sharp look, “Take my mercy, boy” Slade said darkly, “Your master won't be pleased with you, but he’d hardly be pleased with me if I allowed my student to cripple another one of his trainees”

Dick smirked at that before he forced his lips still. Despite the emotional turmoil, he still couldn't shake that the man was right. Ever since Dick was allowed out, Slade had had him sparring and on training schedules nonstop. He had 2 hours for lunch which he spent with Kris, Ronan, and Jacks before he was thrown back into training with Slade or the Shadows. Ra’s had given the mercenary access to his shadows in training, stating that the ones that survived would be better for it. Slade had accepted and hadn't stopped testing Dick. He agreed with Slade though. He’d been decimating them each and every day and it wasn’t diminishing his pride in his abilities one bit. It made him feel alive and helped calm the insecure voices that whispered in his ear and rubbed his brain the wrong way. 

He stepped back and watched as the disgruntled shadow stood and exited. Dick looked around the edge of the training room, noticing that the other downed opponents had been removed as well. He turned his head to greet the older man as he stepped up to him. Slade looked down at him, his face always covered by his mask unless they were in their private rooms. They watched each other for a long while and Dick felt himself growing antsy with unease. He desperately wanted for things to go back to normal, for their usual peace and banter to find its place again, but every day that Dick found himself falling more and more into his old routine, the more he found himself hesitant to do so. 

He did his best not to allow his internal revelation to affect his features. He was, he realized. He was uneasy with accepting the strange apology Slade had been offering. He wasn't sure what came over the man to suddenly pull back on his recent hardass and crass behaviors, but the man was attempting to sweep it under the rug and Dick..well... He was hesitant to allow the slights to abide so easily. He wasn't sure if Slade sensed this from him but the man had taken to watching him more often in the last few days. Observing his face in different subtle ways. Slade nodded suddenly, jolting Dick from his internal musings, “Go shower and eat. Your men are going into town for lunch”

“Is that an order?”

Slade watched Dick from behind his mask and leaned forward. Dick felt the muscles in his back strain and tense as he resisted the urge to lean away. He was uncertain about a lot, but he knew Slade would despise the show of weakness. Slade’s eye crinkled in a way that proved he was smirking as well. A quick rise and fall to his shoulders before the man pulled back, “You did good, kid-will do better. Go get lunch”

Slade pulled away and began to make his way out of the sparring room and down the hall. Dick watched him go with a slight frown, entirely disliking how much such simple words could warm his insides and put him at ease.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick met up with his team quickly. He found them already loading up a spare truck that Slade’s men had claimed at the Shadow’s base. They were meandering around while Ronan finished some preliminary checks, but their casual stance, coupled with the coincidental lunch departure just as Dick was dismissed was far too convenient to be true. Dick felt confusion and distrust flit through him as he struggled to look past the obvious setup. He tried not to hold moments like this against his team, they were only following orders, but he wasn't sure why Slade had gone out of his way to order his men to wait for him-much less take him out to lunch. Surely the man couldn't be trying other methods to apologize? 

Sure Slade had been harsher and more brutal than Dick could usually remember, but he and Slade had always treated each other in ways that would draw looks. The man refused to treat him his age, refused to coddle him in a way Bruce or the law would denounce. Polar to that, Slade accepted all of Dick’s efforts to push his buttons, to fight and sway his authority in a way that would earn most a swift death, and the rest, a long drawn-out end. They soon found themselves speeding down the mountain road that led to the village at the base of their cavernous mountain base. Dick had visited Nanda Parbat as a child with Batman a handful of times in the past, but he’d never stayed the night as a formal guest. Batman had always insisted that Robin was better off sleep-deprived and on the jet than sleeping under the same roof as the Demon’s Head. There was no doubt a strange atmosphere now that he was a guest, with more of a reputation as well. He hadn't seen Talia once, but Ra’s seemed to be indecisive as to whether or not he liked Dick. Some days he loved to enjoy watching Dick spar with his shadows, he’d stand against the wall or sit on his throne and watch Dick pummel them until he called a stop. Most often he would wait until his opponent had lost consciousness. On other days, Ra’s seemed to find him as annoying as a cockroach, gazing at him through narrow-slitted eyes and barely speaking a word. Dick couldn't blame him, he’d done nothing for his reputation with Damian, and he pushed the man far too readily on his first visit with Slade almost 2 years ago. Slade had even allowed Ra’s to select his punishment to make sure that bygones were bygones; later that night Slade dolled out his own punishment.

Dick blinked harshly, feeling his eyelids ache as he forced his memories and train of thought away from its current path. He leaned back, from where he sat up front, and enjoyed the harsh wind whipping through his hair. He trusted Ronan to drive them safely while Jacks and Kris sat in the back of the open-topped jeep. The days were warm but the wind was frigid, offering a strange but delightful combination of weather that had Dick’s stomach flipping pleasurably with every gust of wind and every sharp turn his closed eyes couldn't prepare him for. They turned a long right and Dick opened his eyes, realizing they were nearing the bottom of the mountain road and would soon be coming into town. It was a small village that offered goods and services to the Shadows and Demon Head in return for protection. Dick watched as they passed herds of goats and sheep, young boys of different ages trying to corral them along the road with the few dogs at their heels. 

“Where should we go?”

After a few moments, Dick realized no one had answered and turned to find Ronan glancing at him from his periphery. He resisted the urge to sigh and offered a shrug in place of it, “You choose” he said, knowing Jacks and Kris were waiting for his choice as well, “I just want some kebabs with that white sauce”

Jacks chuckled, “Every place sells that here, man”

Dick smiled slightly, “Exactly” he replied back. When no one spoke up, Dick leaned back and threw his feet onto the jeep’s console, “Eeny Meeny, Miney-Kris, you choose”

He heard Ronan and Jacks chuckle as she protested his efforts to single her out, “If you don’t choose. I’ll just call Master and tell him we’re meeting him for lunch”

“Hajju’s” Kris replied immediately. Dick laughed, liking the easy, lighter feeling that came with it. Ronan nodded as they came into town and started taking turns down to the outdoor restaurant. Dick looked around at the town and its inhabitants. The shadows and Ra’s kept the people taken care of well fed. The biggest price was that most young men were selected for shadow training and that every child was raised and taught how not to snitch to any travelers or tourists. There was even a message system set up for children to alert the Shadows if a meta or enhanced hero happened too close to the mountain.

Ronan made a sharp left before pulling into the dirt parking lot of the shack-turned-restaurant. There were a few locals hanging around but the majority of their current patrons appeared to be shadows as well. Everyone looked up as they rumbled to a stop and Jacks whistled to one of the men standing in the doorway. The man jogged over before noticing Dick. His eyes widened slightly before he greeted them and ushered them over to a clean table. He returned quickly with an extra stool so all 4 could sit before he dipped his head and spoke to Kris in Arabic. She replied back, already knowing their orders. Dick resisted the urge to let his frustration show when the man shot Dick another look before departing. He leaned forward on the table and picked at a notch in the wood, “I hate when they do that” he muttered.

“What?” Kris asked. She looked back at the man’s departing back, catching some of the gazes of the surrounding shadows. She looked back and put an easy grin on her face, “You know what you do to the men. The locals are only gonna be worse” she said honestly.

Dick nodded in understanding, “I don't like that they can spot me so easily” he said, gazing around them. Every time he made eye contact with another shadow, masked or unmasked they adverted their attention elsewhere.

“It’s your baby blues” Jacks cooed in a high-pitched voice. Dick furrowed his brow in annoyance. Kris looked like she wanted to laugh, “It’s true” she said, “There are only a handful of people that stand out like you and Ronan do, but everyone knows from the rumors that you don’t have ginger hair”

“It’s strawberry blonde” Ronan snapped.

Dick hung his head, “Is that why I keep hearing them call me bluey?”

Kris laughed and nodded, “I didn't know you understood them”

Dick shrugged and moved back to his notch, “I didn’t really. I just know my colors and basic words. I thought it was a name like I dunno calling a white guy gringo”

Kris leaned forward too, “They used to call you blue, but it was too informal so they started calling you the blue devil. I think the Colonel allowed it to stick for…you know” she trailed off. 

Dick laughed before sighing, “Ooof course”

Their food arrived and they ate in comfortable silence. Ronan ordered more water every time Dick’s glass got low and Jack’s and Kris ordered extra sides for themselves. Eventually, they finished but fell into silence as it was obvious no one was in a rush to get back up the mountain.

“Everything good?” Jacks asked. Kris shot him a look, but he returned it just as fierce, “What?” he said, “I’m not gonna act like things haven't been shit recently. 

Dick waved off Kris, grateful for her attempt to respect his privacy but annoyed at how they always seemed to treat him like a superior before a friend, “It’s ok” he sighed, “Slade knows I’m back on the low” he said.

Ronan seemed surprised, “Really?”

Dick nodded and leaned back, “Yea. I mean it’s not like I can hide anything from him, but he gets it. I don’t want any more issues” he explained, “If I’d been on the low when I got dosed, you might've had an easier time handling me”

Kris seemed surprised that Dick was referring to the incident with Queen Bee so casually, “Everything turned out alright” she said tightly. No one wanted to mention how bad it had been that Slade had just shot Dick to quell his chaos.

Dick nodded and forced the tension out of his body in one breath, “Yeah” he agreed, “I’d much rather fuck up Slade than you guys”

Jacks laughed and Ronan chuckled. Kris smiled tightly, glad to see them happy, but uncomfortable with any form of talk that lacked decorum. Jacks leaned forward, “I’ve never even seen him bruised, but maaaan, when you snapped his arm backward like a wishbone” Jacks whistled.

Dick laughed, “You’ve never even seen him with his mask off, how would you know what a bruise on him looks like?”

Jacks sputtered excuses and Ronan nudged his shoulder, “You better hope no one’s recording the way you're talking about the Colonel” he taunted. Jack’s face seemed to leech of color and he spun around in a way that made Kris and Ronan laugh harder. 

“They wouldn’t dare,” Dick said in a low tone. Jacks looked back to see Dick wearing an utterly serious expression. His bright blue eyes were watching the surrounding people, daring them to make eye contact with him long enough for it to be taken as a challenge. Dick had been walked over for too long, drugged, beat, and injected, and who knows what. He was fed up with being affected by what was around him. He wanted-needed- to be the one affecting others for a change. Maybe that was why he was bitter towards Slade’s efforts to apologize in recent days. Beside him, Kris placed her hand over Dick’s clenched fist and tapped his skin pointedly, “You need to learn to keep your temper” she admonished, “You’re as bad as your brother”

Dick ducked his head, feeling his ears warm. He’d forgotten that the others had met his brothers enough times to lay rumors to rest or to realize certain stories were actually true. He’d never been compared to Jason's anger or hot-headedness, but he found that the comparison didn't bother him. It was like a bittersweet reminder that he found he welcomed largely. After a moment, Dick pulled his hand away but kept it beside Kris'. Dick smiled slightly before it dropped away, “You know” he glanced up at his team, “You guys kind of remind me of them sometimes”

Jacks frowned and pointed a finger at Dick, “I swear to god if you admit that you have brother issues aaaaand daddy issues-”

Ronan punched him in the side and Dick laughed, “There are 3 of us” Jacks whispered to Kris.

Dick shocked his head, “No, just little things” He looked at Ronan, “Sometimes you get super quiet and obsessive like Tim does. Except, I usually try and beat that out of him” Dick’s gaze took on a far-off expression, “One time I drugged him with just a little bit of natural melatonin but he was already so sleep-deprived he slept for 2 days straight and missed a test. He hit me so hard when he realized”

He looked at Kris, “And the guys are all scared of crossing you, even though we love to push your buttons”

She quirked a brow, “I didn’t realize Tim was scary like that”

“No, no, he’s not” Dick agreed, “It’s Jason who scares everyone” he chuckled, “He hates to be involved, but hates it even more when we leave him out of stuff, Damian and I had a lot of fun playing pranks on him and pissing him off. It was a really weird method, but he never bonded well with others, besides me I think, so that kind of helped force Dami and Jay to interact”

Jacks slapped his hand on the table, “Wait” he said, “Don't tell me you think I’m like the twerp” he whispered the last part as if realizing they were being hosted by Damian’s renowned lineage. Dick laughed, enjoying the ache that crinkled beside his eyes, “You fuck with everything and then act like they were in the wrong!” he said.

Jacks shrugged as if that wasn’t his fault. Dick rolled his eyes, “You and Dami will never get along because of how similar you guys are”

Between laughs, Kris caught Ronan’s expression across the table and she knew he had caught the same conjugation slip-up as she did. Dick spoke as if there was a chance..a future where his brothers and old team would have an opportunity to bond and interact in a way that wasn't violent and bloody. She knew better than to point it out. The moment ended quickly as Ronan broke eye contact and reached for the last of the water. Kris was keeping her composure calm and hoping that it affected the rest of their group. It had been an awful couple of weeks recently that seemed to hold nothing but emotional turmoil and physical breakdowns. Dick had been short and brutal with them before he completely withdrew and then fell headfirst into 2 different instances of electrum build-up. She was surprised that he was willing to venture out and around people at all. The first time it had happened, he’d locked himself in his room and barely responded to threats from the Colonel to break down his door.

There was something different about him though. He seemed lighter, like when they were first introduced. Dick seemed to make an effort to smile and genuinely enjoy their brief moments of laughter and relax. In the past, Ren had been an icy fire of narrowed eyes and barred teeth, broken apart by brief moments of floored red-hot molten anger when his enhanced biology became too much for him. Now though, he seemed to burn red and warm; not hot, but just enough to melt the the frigidness. Which was strange because she felt like most of his smiles and jokes were forced. Sometimes, like in the jeep, she’d catch him withholding a sigh before an answer or a quip, but after said joke, he’d smile…like he actually enjoyed the humor after all, and the smile would last longer and longer-reaching his eyes and pulling back his ears. She hoped it became their new normal.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Slade watched the boy as he returned from another lunch. He’d taken to leaving their mountainous cave base for lunch every day now with his team. Slade didn't stop him, but found that he enjoyed the lightness his bird returned with every time. The boy still looked at him strangely, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to voice his thoughts about the man, to the man, or if he barely knew what those thoughts were exactly. Slade resisted the urge to smirk, knowing the boy would pick up on it instantly. He wanted to soothe feathers, not ruffle them further. He’d had the redhead reporting to him exactly 42 minutes after every lunch to make sure he was up to date on what was done and discussed, even eaten-just enough time to ensure the kid would be tied up and occupied with other people or training. His bird had a sweet tooth and indulged far too often for his liking. 

Dick was listening to the dark-skinned South African boy as they pulled a few bags and bags of leftovers from the open truck bed. Slade remembered the day he picked up the shorter man. It had been somewhere in East Asia and not 3 minutes after taking the kid off death row’s firing squad did he ask Slade for a headstart. Slade had been confused before realizing the kid thought he was one of those baseless hunters who bought people for sport or human trafficking. Slade had laughed, just once, but it was enough to confuse the kid who assumed he was about to be hunted to death in a rich man’s game. He’d spent the next 4 years in Slade’s close combat quarters before Dick selected him as part of his mandatory private militia squadron. 

The boy said something to which Dick finally laughed, his lips peeling back in a way that emphasized his dimples and thinned his full lips. The kid’s hair was getting longer, shaggier, growing in along his nape and becoming a hindrance for his eyes. Slade would mention something when Wintergreen was nearby so the older man could enforce some semblance of a respectable haircut again. For now, Slade wouldn't push it as the boy had always been self-conscious about the length of his hair. It was understandable as it had grown too long the few months Slade had him and had been too short when the Court had him, it was also an egotistical effect that Slade knew he should expect from dragging around a young adult all over the world. Especially one that had grown up in such lavish wealth. 

Dick’s lips moved as he added another quip, which proved to enrage their female team member and delight the men. Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped at their audacity. Dick all but cackled and seemed to duck down in a way that implied she would have most likely swatted him if they were in private. Satisfaction warmed Slade’s figure at the notion that Falcon was close enough to his apprentice to warrant such at-ease behavior, but had enough decorum and sense to refrain from anything when it wasn't just the 3 of them. She was a respectable member of his heir's chosen party. Ra’s had been surprised when he learned that Slade allowed Dick to have a woman in his private ensemble of soldiers but the mercenary wasn't concerned. The boy was as fluid as his acrobatics and hadn't shown any interest in her. The 3 members had learned their lesson after Wildcat had proved to lack proper boundaries in public. Dick did have a crush on Batgirl at some point and was aware that both redheads, the archer and speedster, were unusually close to him in his adolescence but Slade wasn’t concerned with anyone drawing his student’s attention from him, not anymore.

Dick seemed to feel his attention and looked up, scanning the garage entrance briefly before locking onto Slade in a motion that had his lips smirking beneath his mask. The boy said something to his team but kept his eyes on Slade. They seemed to notice his diverted attention and nodded before departing. Dick made his way over to Slade and dipped his head. Slade resisted the urge to scoff, knowing the boy didn't mean a single ounce of the respect his form was displaying.

“Come”

The two walked deeper into the cave hallways and towards the right of the base where they were staying. Slade led them to his room and opened the door for his apprentice. The boy followed him in, turning to watch the door close with a soft click. Slade made his way over to his desk and riffled through a short stack of papers before selecting the top one and handing it to Dick. He accepted it with a quick glance at the older man. He turned it over and didn't make it far before realization set in. He chanced another look at Slade, desperate not to stray too far from the paper before him, “How long have you had this?”

“Since yesterday”

Dick looked up to confirm the man hadn't been hiding it for much longer. Slade’s eye held his gaze unwaveringly, not that Slade Wilson’s gaze could ever be described as indecisive or weak by any means. He gazed back down at the image of Roan Damarask. 

The page was a short report, most likely put together by one of Slde’s spare men.

 

Roan Damarask

 

Age: 54

 

H/W: 6’2”_ 205 lbs

 

Origianting: West Africa

 

Location tag: Netherlands 12.423.111.12.1264.12.

 

 

Dick briefly scanned the combined information but couldn't keep his eyes from dragging below the location coordinates to the image that was taken. It was a frontal view photo from behind a stranger’s shoulders. He was sitting at a coffee shop and his lips were frozen in speech with whoever he was facing. He was dressed well, better than Dick would have liked to see. He wore a thin suit jacket with a high neck beneath. His dark skin was unblemished and his dreds were pulled back in a half-up ponytail. His eyes were a hair off course from the camera's focal point, confirming that he had no idea he was being photographed. Dick could never mistake those dark brown eyes though. Nearly black, he could vividly imagine them placed behind a white owl mask that held superficial woodmarks and deep black inelegant swirls. The proportions of the features and beak were just shy of realistic, giving the masks’s structure a very stereotypical image of what African artwork looked like before Western colonization took hold.

Slade, ever attuned to Dick, spoke, “The sources I sent out confirmed that he was with Joseph Gilf”

Dick looked up in surprise. Slade nodded, “Despite what common sense may lead Msot to believe, for some reason, they are still doing business regularly. Their assets have not been frozen and they’ve been laying low but not incredibly so”

“Still surprising” Dick muttered. He looked back down at the image. Joseph was South African and his paler skin resembled it so. After Dick’s initial deep dive into research, it was clear that Joseph and Roan had always been at odds. Business, family relations, and more. The two had even gone to court over some allegations that Roan had seduced Joseph’s wife and slept with her, breaking a prenup that had been in place for about 9 years. Dick wasn't able to find the conclusion of the civil family court affairs trial but what he had found was enough to tell him that they seemed to be consistently at each other throats, They’re probably clinging to the last of their dwindling group, Dick mused to himself.

“I’ll start planning an op to target them. I’ll speak to whoever’s been tailing them to get a better read on their location and day-to-day pattern”

Dick handed the paper back to Slade, albeit reluctantly. Slade stood there holding the paper and Dick frowned, “I’m not going to say thank you”

“You just did, but I wasn't expecting one”

Dick’s eye twitched at Slade’s joke. He refused to turn away lest he offer any show that he was backing down to or for the man, even if he was his teacher, his stabilizing hand at the moment.

“Did you enjoy lunch?”

Dick blinked, “What?”

Slade’s eye offered his mirth for him, “You heard me, kid. Did you enjoy lunch? You’ve been going enough without being ordered to. It’s been a while since you smiled like that”

“Why? Your spy's updates aren't enough information on me?”

Slade huffed a laugh, “Pretty bird, we both know that I don’t need spies to keep tabs on you. But it pleases me to know that your situational awareness hasn't gone by the wayside”

Dick narrowed his eyes in an attempt to fight off the compliments. He was fed up with the back-and-forth-the emotional whiplash. He used to enjoy it, when Slade’s presence was like an occasional gift of someone more powerful merely come to layer his ego higher and higher. Their quips and jabs, both physical and verbal, were fun and spontaneous. They were rough and brutal and surprisingly sentimental, but that was because Dick had felt like an equal in their trades and blows. He knew that he’d thrown himself at Slade when the man had sequestered him away almost 3 years ago now. He’d begged the man to help him escape his family in an effort to keep them safe. He’d pleaded with the man to teach him to control himself, and he knew that all of it pleased Slade to no end.

“I want to do this on my own. The mission, I mean”

Slade arched a single brow, “No team?”

Dick shook his head, feeling his cheeks burn when he back peddled and hoped his lunch out in the desert heat hadn't made it noticeable, “No, I’m bringing my team, but no one else. No…you”

He finished lamely. Slade nodded simply, “Alright, kid”

But Dick was fed up with how much he felt like the victim in recent months. He’d lost control of himself and Slade saw him as a liability to be maintained and controlled, and he’d displeased the man and caused severe emotional whiplash that left him to be the only one suffering. He was fed up with it and hurt, but more than that, he was concerned that if he didn't stop it in some way now, he’d become numb to it-allow it to progress more deeply. He could be dumb at times, but Bruce didn't raise a fool. He knew what had brought it on too. He looked back to the older man, finding his steel grey eye easily. The killer was watching him, waiting for Dick to make the move, to decide to continue their conversation, to leave his presence…something. And a small part of Dick acknowledged the control Slade was trying to offer him in this moment. The appreciation was there but the gratitude was too small to verbalize it yet.

Pussy, Jason jokingly said in the back of his mind, egging him on to not let matters lie. The deep voice, which was actually reminiscent of Bruce, the older he got, demanded that he pick a fight until the other party backed down or the niggling feeling, that had been eating at him, was finally satisfied-abated. He knew his brother would expect a punch in the gut at worse, a noogie at best in response to such a jibe. He could imagine it so, so vividly. Too vividly, and for a moment Dick wasn't sure if he was truly seeing it or if he was remembering a time when this exact scenario had played out between the 2 oldest brothers. Jason scrambling to get away from Dick’s grabbing hands while a shit-eating grin was plastered across his smug, panicked face. Dick usually pulled back just a little to allow Jason to outrun him, but he stopped down that once the younger boy outgrew him and with his legs, his ego as well.

“You can’t keep pushing me to want something I don’t really want”, Dick forced out. His eyes dragged away before he realized how much both Bruce and Slade would have admonished him for it and forced their gazes to reconnect, “I’m serious Slade”

Slade watched him for a moment before nodding, already expecting more from Dick, “This” he looked around their barren cave room, but meant something grander than the simple stone, “Is all for them. It always has been. I can’t leave my brothers, not forever. You knew this from the beginning I need to get rid of the Court of Owls to keep them safe from my past and I want to learn to control myself so I finally face them again and-”

“No shatter their jaws and split their lips?” Slade finished softly. His tone wasn't mocking but his words did it plenty.

Dick glared, “Don’t push me Slade” he spat, “I’m serious. You want me to throw myself into this line of work and just forget them like they were never the reason I started down this path to begin with? Not happening. You should be thanking them I’m even here”

Slade’s eyes glittered with something dark but Dick hoped he’d pushed the man too far, he wanted the man to give him a reason to take a swing. He itched to swing and feel the skin on his knuckles split. Slade took a step over to his desk and set the paper down lightly before leaning slightly against it, his hip popped out just slightly. Dick almost made a joke about being a girl’s girl with that stance, but remained firm. 

“The day I ever thank Todd for something is the day I will turn myself into Wayne with my hands already cuffed,” Slade said simply.

Dick scowled, “You know what I mean asshole”

Slade’s eye narrowed for a second before his face relaxed, “I do” he said. He crossed his arms, “I won’t feign ignorance to what your intentions are, but neither can you, pretty bird” Slade tipped his head down to narrow on Dick, “I’m a greedy man, pretty bird. You gave me this much without much struggle, you’ll have to fight me tooth and nail if you don’t want to give me any more” he said honestly, pinning Dick with a look that was utterly polar from his cool casual stance.

Dick almost struggled to take in a full breath suddenly and he had no idea why the heat from lunch outside was suddenly starting to make itself known across his cheeks and nose, “You have to realize there are parts of me that you can’t change, and my brothers are one of them. I’ll never turn my back on them, not really”

Slade’s fingers tightened where they rested on his forearms, but he didn't interrupt, “I know you want me for-for me” he said between shortened breaths, “But you can’t demand that I change much more of myself before I’m not me anymore, Slade!”

Slade dropped his crossed arms and stood straighter like Dick’s claim was some sort of affront he had to address with professionalism, “I never said I wanted to change you, kid. I just want all of you…and more” the man purred. Dick’s lip curled at the notion that Slade was playing with him, even now. His knuckles itched to connect with something solid and Slade was looking more and more appealing.

“But” Slade continued, “That’s not to say, I don’t hear you, kid”

Dick looked at Slade with a hesitant suspiciousness. Slade smirked, “I know that if I asked my children for their opinions, they wouldn't have very glowing recommendations for my work as their father,” Slade said, “But I know that you’ve seen enough to never accuse me of not trying either,” Slade said, his tone held a serious note that requested Dick not interrupt him, “You've always had my support, kid. Always will. If this is you drawing a line in the sand and stating that you don’t wish to cross it, then we won’t…that’s your decision”

“And you’ve always wanted me to make my decisions for myself and on my own” Dick supplied slowly, like he was reminding Slade and himself.

Slade nodded as a lighter, more amused, glint seemed to soften his grey eye, “We both know that your enhanced status means that you can’t always make decisions on your own, not until you’ve managed to push past the hold that electrum has on you. You’re different from every other talon that’s ever existed because you can never cut yourself off from that enhanced factor, but I won’t force things that you truly don't want”

Dick watched Slade for a second longer to make sure the man knew how serious he was, and to make sure the mercenary wasn’t offering him petty platitudes in the form of a promise, “It is” he said lowly.

Slade rolled his shoulders and sighed, “Can’t say I’m not disappointed”, he stepped forward and leaned into Dick’s space, showing how glad he was when Dick didn't lean away, “But you know me well enough, pretty bird…I won’t stop trying to change your mind either”

Dick shook his head, backing up then, “I won’t" he swore, “Not about my brothers. I know you don't think I should care this much about them, but we’re all we’ve ever had after Bruce took us in. No one can understand us like each other. They need me”

Slade resisted the urge to roll his eye, “Yes, well, I hate to break it to you, but my own kids can claim just as much after being raised by me. Not a very pretty story, but not a rare one either”

Dick scowled, disliking Slade’s disregard, “Maybe not when you put it like that, but when you’re going through life all alone, it feels much bigger to those who can understand you”

Slade scowled, “Foolish boy, no one can speak to going through this pitiful existence on their own better than me. No one, can understand you like I can, Richard. No one will live as long as us, or lose as many loved ones as us, I’m trying to save you the trouble-trying to save you the pain in the long run, don't throw yourself onto spikes for all these worthless souls just yet-”

Slade’s head snapped to the left before he slowly turned back to where Dick was still poised. His fist was raised and still tensed, his tricep and bicep bulging with hard muscle. His lips were pulled back in a snarl and his back foot was twisted in a way that threw an attacker’s whole weight into the jab, “They are not worthless” Dick spat.

Slade's eye tightened behind his mask but in a way that only emphasized how pleased he seemed to be with Dick. Dick growled in frustration. Slade was trying to be difficult, hard to read and Dick was sick of being played. He wasn't trying to be funny. He was trying to set boundaries with the most narcissistic egotistical asshole that had ever been born, "I swear to god Slade, this isn't a joke. If you don't leave this alone-leave them alone I'll leave for good. I'll figure something else out and I know you don't want that. I can't separate myself from them in the way you want”

Slade seemed to settle and calm slightly. The mirth evaporated from his shoulders, "I know little bird" he replied reassuringly. He reached out slowly, just enough for Dick to track his movements with assurity. Dick didn't pull back so Slade continued until he could place his palm on the top of his dark locks, "You'll have to learn how to do see eventually though. You'll outlive them. You outlive everyone pretty bird" Slade's voice was almost sad; almost forlone with experience hard lived. Dick expected anger, he expected petulance to rise up in response to Slade's pitying tone but all he managed to wrangle up was sadness in return. A foreboding distraughtness that seemed to want to agree with Slade. 

"Then that's my decision," he said, "I'll have to learn to live with those consequences when the time comes" He replied if only to prove to Slade how serious he was. 

Slade stepped closer and kept his hand placed on top of Dick's head, “And I'll be there to catch you when you fall because of your hardheaded decisions” 

Dick chuckled weakly, “I'm a robin, not a woodpecker” Slade chuckled and thumbed his forehead slightly. “That you are” he agreed. For a moment the cave was silent save for the noise their gazes initiated. 

“Now,” Slade said, “I believe you agreed to fight me tooth and nail?”

Dick grinned, feeling the familiar heat rising between them. The throng of fire that promised to pump his adrenaline so hard and fast he struggled to keep up with his own body. He pulled away with a sudden lightness that made him feel like he was 14 and Robin again, absolutely giddy with anticipation. He bounced on the balls of his feet and jumped, pulling both knees to his chest before flipping midair. He landed behind Slade and smirked, “If you can handle me, old man”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Over here” Jacks motioned. He was leading Ronan and Kris down the private hallway of rooms that the Demon Head had allotted his contractor guests.

“What are we about to get in trouble for?” Kris demanded quietly. She hadn't been concerned when Jacks had initially pulled them away from counting inventory, for their armory and Kevlar compression suits, but now she was. Jacks was leading them down their own temporary territory but speaking and motioning as if they were in enemy territory. His lips barely moved when he spoke and his gaze was as vigilant as Ren demanded of them in the field. His hand motions were curt and succinct, never straying far from his side. Ronan was silent, too wary and curious to voice his own concerns alongside Kris. Jacks didn't respond as they slowed beside the Colonel’s rooms. He brought them just a little further until they were standing outside the large double doors to the left of their commanding officer’s quarters. They hadn't been inside after Ren had told them it had been turned into a sort of gym and office for the Terminator. 

Ronan’s pale hand shot out and gripped Jacks’ shirt collar by the back. Jacks choked and wheeled backward to compensate, “Did you go snooping in Ren’s and Deathstroke’s stuff, idiot?” Ronan hissed.

Kris’s eyes widened but Jacks held up his hands, almost collapsing backward into Ronan’s chest, “No!” he lowered his voice again, “Let me explain”

Ronan released him ruffly and Jacks scowled at the manhandling they resorted to so frequently with him. He held up a single finger in front of his lips and smiled coyly. He slowly leaned forward and pushed the door open while his other hand held the doorknob up slightly; to counter any creaks or whines the door hinge might offer. Kris scowled, disliking that Jacks already knew how to prevent that.

Jacks slowly leaned away from whatever he was watching in the crack of the double doors. He motioned to one of the 2 to look for themselves. Ronan offered Kris a cautious expression before he stepped forward. Being the second tallest in their group, it forced him to lean down slightly. Ronan’s brow furrowed as he caught a glimpse of something dark against the even darker background of their cave hideout. He leaned closer and to the side to try and see better, attempting to find the best angle between the slim gap. A grunt made its way to his ears before the sound of something smacking another in a clap-like fashion registered.

“What the hell is that?” Kris asked behind him.

Ronan tried angling his head again when he caught sight of Deathstroke’s copper mask. The man faced the door for a second before he turned in a sharp motion, flinging another body off his shoulders and to the floor. The floor, which was actually covered in acrobatic plastic mats, made another smacking sound in response to the body’s momentum. The person slapped the floor with his palm before he pushed himself to his feet in a fluid roll, not allowing Slade more than a few moments rest between attacks. Ronan knew within moments of seeing the flying body that it was Renegade. Even when he was being tossed against his will, the wind and air around him seemed to warp and cradle him, to offer his flaying limbs as much elegance as possible.

Dick offered a high kick, which swung around only to jab back into Slade’s face, just as the man managed to avoid the first sharp kick. Slade’s hand shot out and caught his ankle, tugging him awkwardly toward his larger attacker. Dick fell limp before falling into a handstand with his leg held up by the older man-an attempt to throw off Slade's balance. He grasped the backs of Slade’s ankles and used the momentum to swing his one free leg back as hard as he could, nailing the mercenary in the mask. Slade dropped his leg but recovered quickly. He easily leaped over the dark-haired bird when he made an attempt to lunge at his legs again and caught him by the back of his t-shirt. Dick choked as his movement was cut short and he was yanked back. He fell on Slade’s boots and smashed his head back against Slade’s armored shins. Dick cursed and looked up with a scowl just in time to see Slade reach for him. Dick’s eyes flew wide and he tried to scramble away but the man caught him by the front of the shirt and twisted, keeping his movements minimal as he was nearly choked again.

 Dick growled and twisted as he was yanked to his feet to face his teacher. Slade smirked behind his mask and his eye narrowed in glee as he held his flailing bird in one hand. Dick snapped and smashed his head forward, earning a grunt from Slade. A small slash opened up above Dick’s brow from the blow and he grinned as he felt the warm trail slither down his nose to meet his upper lip. All too soon, his body took control and began to halt the blood flow. 

Slade watched the small wound start to knit itself back together and smirked, “Isn't that better?” he purred.

Dick snarled, “I prefer-” and then abruptly smashed his knee up into Slade’s upper ribs, imitating the sensation of severe heartburn in one move. The man tightened his grip over Dick’s throat and he wheezed, feeling his air deplete his body completely. He narrowed his eyes as he struggled for breath, realizing that the fight would be over far too soon if he didn't do something quick. He lashed out with jabs and punches that would no doubt bruise and splinter bone, but nothing was enough to force the man’s grip to release him. Just as Dick’s head started to pound with the foreboding warning signs of unconsciousness, he threw his thighs up and over Slade’s shoulders, hooking behind the man's underarms.

He grunted, using air that he didn't have, and pulled tight, forcing Slade’s arms forward and his torso to bend slightly. The hand around his throat lessened slightly and Dick sucked in hot prickling pains of air in response. Dick narrowed his eyes further and tightened his thighs even more, feeling the muscles in his upper and inner thighs burn and scream. Slade grunted as his arms were forced forward even more and he set his deadly gaze on Dick, realizing that the acrobat was forcing his arms so closely together that if he didn't drop the bird completely he’d risk dislocating both shoulders and possibly his upper arms. Dick felt a muscle pop beneath his right leg and, just when he was sure the killer was going to allow the injury, he was dropped. Dick fell to his feet in a crouch before flipping backward once, twice, before stopping a safer distance away. He stood up just to nearly be bowled over as Slade charged him with little notice. The mercenary crowded his space before he could blink and Dick was forced to duck, dodge, and bend between blows and jabs for the next few minutes like his life depended on it. A fist shot out and Dick ducked and spun around on his heel, popping up beside the contract killer, to deliver a blow to his side. He aimed for the kidneys, knowing Slade would find the location funny. He raised Rose on ultimate fighting and all the vital spots to get someone shitting blood within just 3 punches.

He brought his arms up in an x and blocked a powerful head jab that forced him back about half a foot. Dick realized he was being corralled backward towards the walls and scrambled to outmaneuver Slade before he was trapped. The walls weren't smooth so slipping between them and another body was nearly impossible. The jagged bumpy surface was only good for rock climbing. Dick whipped back around to block another punch and deliver 2 of his own, forcing Slade to avoid the third one. Dick smirked, knowing the man would be just as bruised tomorrow as he was. The pair of them had stopped holding back a while ago. As if to prove their lack of restraint, a broken gun handle and 3 snapped bo staffs lay strewn across the ground on the other side of the room. 

Dick backed up for every step Slade took closer. The mercenary’s clothing was torn in places where his armor wasn't able to cover the bends in his arms and offer protection and Dick was almost looking forward to seeing the black and yellow patches that would cover the man’s side and chest for the rest of the day. He knew his own body would be feeling it the moment he was allowed rest. His heat-inducing adrenaline rush would fade and all the aches and pains would come rushing back in full force. He knew he had at least one cracked rib and plenty of bruises and gashes to prove it. Slade didn't make the mistake of glancing at the wall behind Dick but his gaze, always so focused on Dick, became unfocused for half a second, just enough for his steel blue and grey eye to lose that hyperfocused predatory glint to it. Dick knew Slade had recognized that Dick was basically trapped against the wall to his back and was about to make a move to pin him.

Slade stepped forward once more and that was all Dick needed. He turned and threw himself at the wall, forcing the screaming muscles in his thighs to push him 2 steps higher before he kicked out and spun sideways, smashing the hell of his boot into Slade’s mask. The man grunted and stumbled back as Dick rolled to a stop beside him. Dick pushed himself to his feet but was unable to get much father before he found himself being thrown into the wall in front of him. A yelp escaped his throat as he felt his nose break from the push. Before he could gather his bearings, he was gripped by his arms and spun around quickly. His vision wavered for a brief moment before he found the cave wall digging into his neck and shoulder blades. He blinked, finding Slade staring down at him in an animalistic pant. The white-haired killer was breathing deeply and Dick realized that he was maskless. He looked around their feet, catching sight of a dented copper mask to their left. He glanced back to his teacher quickly to find a deep cut lacing his cheek where the dent had forced the mask into his face and flesh. He'd never been able to do that without nearly killing himself in the process.

Dick waited with bated breath, his own panting seeming to fill the room as well.

Eventually, the man’s breath calmed, but he didn't release his grip over Dick’s upper arms. Dick swallowed, forcing the back of his dry tongue to separate from the roof of his mouth. Just as he was about to speak, Slade did. He leaned forward, easing up on his grip slightly, “Welcome back, pretty bird”

Dick smiled between pants, Slade’s face mirroring his own, “Just needed to get you centered again” Slade said, “You’re useless to the boys and me without your head on straight”

Dick tried to maintain his composure but knew his mask broke at hearing that. Slade merely smiled in return, his single eye steady and focused on Dick. Before he could think of what to do next, that eye was much, much closer. Dick made a sound in the back of his throat but it died as he felt the other man’s tongue smother his lower lip and gain entrance to his mouth far too easily. Dick realized he was no longer being forced back against the wall and threw his arms up, unwilling for this to continue without him having a chance to control any aspect of it.

He shoved back against the man, “Wa-wait” he swallowed past his swollen lips. He wasn’t sure how he could feel like he was drowning while the back of his throat felt as dry and neglected as sandpaper. Slade smirked and stepped forward again, his intent dark and obvious. Dick snarled in response, determined not to be dominated in a 1-way struggle; not again. Before he could rationally think it out, his toe rolled one of the broken bostaff pieces towards him before stopping it abruptly. The metal bounced and Dick kicked it up with the tip of his boot and caught it deftly, twirling the foot-long jagged metal staff. Slade offered a single arched brow as if genuinely curious as to whether or not Dick would reignite their fight or use the staff some other way. Slade accepted the challenge with morbid giddiness and slapped his palm against the wall beside Dick’s head. He waited, watching what the younger man would do. Dick kept his chin tilted down but his eyes flared upward, offering a dark glimpse into his rarely uncovered golden eyes. Slade released a long hot breath as the kid’s emotions started to overwhelm him enough to reveal those hated golden irises. Before he could enclose the boy even further, Dick jerked his hand to the side as if to smack Slade with the staff. Instead, a sharp thudding pain resonated up his shoulder like unexpected fireworks. Slade barked out a pained snarl and dropped his hand, the movement of his arm jarring the wound even more. They both looked down to where Dick had stabbed Slade through the upper right shoulder, hard enough to make sure at least 6 inches of the metal was disappeared inside Slade’s flesh. 

He dragged his gaze from his spurting wound to his bird’s smirking face, “At least I didn't use the blunt end” the boy quipped snidely. Slade had half a mind to slowly reach up and drag the metal out, making a show of just how much pain and agony he could manage with a straight face, something he knew heated his bird’s insides instantly. The ability to prove himself on another level that very few could. But he didn't care enough to do that at the moment, his boy was feeling vulgar and violent and Slade barely had the sense to maintain his self-control as the seconds ticked by. Instead, he wrenched the torn metal from the front of his shoulder and made a show of slapping his other palm over his open wound. The blood was now down to a trickle but the wound wouldn't close quite yet. Slade dropped the bo staff and reached for his bird again, appeased when he was allowed to do so. His bloodied hand found a tight grip in the dark locks of his bird of prey and he wrenched his head back against the wall, forcing his body to tip back, almost flush, against the uneven wall.

Dick opened his mouth, another mischievous glint already in place behind his muddied yellow and blue eyes, but Slade silenced the boy with a crushing kiss that instantly drew blood. The boy seemed to rear back in surprise before he realized he could go no further back. Instead, and to Slade’s masochistic delight, he met his aggression equitably. He bit down, uncaring of whether or not he made a tongue or lip bleed, but the older man merely gnashed back. He felt the man’s goatee curve upward as Dick moaned in response to another smothering of his lips and clash of teeth. Slade licked up into his mouth before tilting his head to ravish his neck. Dick’s legs didn’t stand a chance and all he could do was lock them at the joints as they turned molten hot and melted to jello beneath the heat devouring his neck and throat. Slade tilted his head back and forth as he maimed the skin above his shoulders and below his ears. The wet sound and stuttered breathing that field the room seemed to reintice that heat to continue and expand, spreading quicker than any wildfire should be allowed. Dick cursed himself for his shitty situational awareness. His body had been so hot, so so hot, and overheated, and tingly, and good. His chest and neck felt good and his ears were thumping with the rhythm of his pulse, and his lips were swollen and wet and- he stuttered a gasp as Slade’s hand, which had been ascending south, found its mark.

The man released a heavy breath of a laugh as if he knew exactly what Dick was thinking, what he was realizing. The man leaned in as his grip tightened, somehow ensuring that Dick’s ligaments turned to lava just as the rest of his skin seemed to catch fire all over again, “My very own bird of prey” the mercenary breathed against his throat. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

Ronan pulled back from the gap as his own throat seemed to close up, “We’re leaving” he said quietly, sharply.

Kris nodded as he glanced back with an uncertain expression. Jacks' mouth dropped, “What? But I didn’t get to see their whole fight! It was awesome dude, they were breaking bones-and I’m on my break-”

“I don’t care” Ronan snapped hoarsely, “It’s none of our concern”. He gripped Jacks and shoved him forward before marching after him. Kris seemed to realize the severity and, with one last glance at the cracked double doors, rushed to catch up with them. 

Chapter 22

Notes:

Hey there!
hope you had a good turkey day. Here's a new ch

“You couldn’t have waited for me?”

Jason smirked as Roy jogged through the zeta tube after him. The archer grumbled something and offered a curse to Jason’s back as he made his way down the alleyway the League’s transport device had been nestled away in, “I got shit to do, hurry up-” Jason cut himself off abruptly just as he realized he was about to call Roy Twinkly Toes, That’s Dickie’s nickname …one of many at least. He shrugged his leather jacket up higher to keep away the fog and smog combination that Gotham always seemed to attract closer to the harbor. He, the replacement, the demon, the old man, Roy, and Wally had just wrapped up another mission that had left him feeling antsy because of the lack of anything accomplished. Deathstroke had sent them an encrypted message with the coordinates of a stakeout that Luthor and Queen Bee had ordered in Europe. They’d arrived only to be met with Eerie and a team of men. The redhead was surprisingly tan and had faint marks near his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

“Where in the desert are you guys camping out?” Tim had asked.

Jason smirked at Tim’s blase show of intellect. Very few would notice such subtle signs and even fewer would be able to narrow down the causes of such signs. Tim was obviously trying to trip up the tall pale young man by shoving it in his face that the Batclan presumptively knew where he had been to earn his sudden tan and dirt marks. Eerie stared them down with an unimpressed air that seemed to trigger Damian in the smallest most ineffectual ways, earning insults and scathing looks from their youngest. Tim’s expression reflected Jason’s thoughts, How strange was it that it took Dickie going off the wayside for the demon brat to start defending them in the odd ways he defended their oldest brother?

Eerie had obviously been ordered to keep the chitchat to a minimum and his subordinates were even more tightlipped. He barely spoke and usually relied on hand signals to Redhood or Batman. They’d thus spent the next 6 and a half hours watching Slade’s men stake out a billionaire in his day-to-day routine. The middle-aged man did little except take phone call after phone call, expensive lunches, and try to flirt with the thin secretary who obviously cared for the salary of her position very much.

Jason was ready to throttle someone after staking out a stakeout.

This was their 6th go around of the same kind of mission. Jason knew that Wilson wasn’t telling them about the assassinations or contracts he was taking for the Light, mostly because they hadn't heard a peep of violent activity. At the very least, they were already aware of a list of names that Vandal Savage had given Slade to start targeting. He knew the others were wondering why the missions they had been informed of had been so low-key and non-explosive as well, most likely leading them to the same conclusions as the Bat clan. Every mission consisted of Jason, the old man, and the 2 brats. Depending on work, school, civilian obligations, and more, is what dictated whether or not Roy, Artemis, Kaldur, Superbpy, Zantanna, and Wally accompanied them. Once again…no Dick.

Jason knew that he couldn't expect Dick at every mission and knew that the point of going to every contract Slade informed them of was not to see Dick…he did…but that didn't change the weighted feeling that re-emerged every single time Eerie was the one to greet them. Slade was keeping them distant from Dick and he had no idea why. Dick could be off completing the assassinations they knew were being kept from the League, or a million other possible things, that grated on Jason’s nerves and troubled Damian into Tim-level insomnia. He was fed up by their 4th mission.

As soon as they made it back to the nearest transport zeta tube, Jason had split, more than uninterested in being around Batman and the others for a second longer. Unfortunately, it appeared as if Roy was tagging along without asking. If he had to suffer anyone’s presence though, Jason was glad it was his childhood friend. He’d found solace in Roy’s friendship the way Wally had in Dick, someone that hadn’t lived his life, but seemed to get him enough to appease the longing that most children experienced in life. It wasn’t until they were older that Roy fell off the deep end just after Jason had come back to life. The next few years were sporadic updates of teen pregnancies and attempts at rehab, paid for by Ollie. He’d never admit it but he found the timing of it so dark and outrageous he almost genuinely laughed at the absurdity of it. Roy had his life put together by million-dollar hands and intended for a billion-dollar future while Jason was lucky to be given 3 square meals a day….then he died. Just when he’d come back and been centered by Dick and Bruce again, had he learned that Roy had disappeared and run away just when he turned 17. Jason had been shocked to hear it from others, intending to chase after one of his best friends and ensure he didn't do something stupid or get himself killed. The night before his planned scheme he’d come downstairs to find Alfred and Bruce arguing in hushed whispers. Bruce had been pushing for Alfred to tell him something, anything, but the older man had been adamant that he trusted their boy to reach out if the situation called for adult intervention. He had said that no matter how much they needed their fathers, he trusted their boy to do right by his friend and was already proving his maturity by leaving a note in some regard.

Dick had beat him to it. Dick had left a note for Alfred, telling him his plan and asking him to keep Bruce from tracking them down unless it was absolutely necessary. Jason had been shocked and hurt that Roy hadn't reached out to Jason in his time of need and drug-induced foolishness, but now he was furious that Dick had run off after his friend, the one boy who cussed back at Jason and thought his rough antics were funny and not disrespectful. Jason couldn't believe how left behind and forgotten they had both made him feel.

Dick had just spent the last half year in near constant presence with Jason only to run off again. Jason sensed Roy jog to catch up with him further down the road and he sighed, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of his needlessly dark thoughts. There was no point in reflecting on how he’d felt as a teenager. Dick had been friends with Roy first and it had taken a long while for Jason to accept that he had to share Dick with anyone. He thought Roy would be the friend he didn’t have to share only for Dick to steal that friend back in a show of selflessness. In the end, though, Jason was the one always stealing from Dick. He stole Robin from the older boy, he stole half his friends and place on the Young Justice team, and managed to worm his way into Wayne Manor under Batman’s guidance. Hell, the only thing he managed to do first was get adopted and that’s not something he’d be waving in Dick’s face any time soon; not unless he wanted to lose a few teeth.

“Dude, come on,” Roy called, “Chill, let’s go get some food and cool off. I can basically see the steam coming off you”. Jason grumbled about Gotham’s smog problem before he turned away, his bright red helmet stuck between his arm and hip, “I wasn’t talkin' out of my ass Harper, I got shit to do. Fuck off”

Roy didn't bat an eye, “Aunt Dinah’s watching Lian tonight”

“So?” Jason scoffed.

Roy threw an arm over Jason’s shoulder, “So it looks like we got shit to do”.

Jason smirked and felt a grin grease his lips against his will. He managed not to turn to look at the other boy but didn't push him away this time, “You’re gonna need your mask” he said after a few moments of them just walking.

Roy cocked his head, “What are we doing behind the old man’s back?’ he asked like they were 16 again.

Jason shook his head, “This isn't Dickie stuff. I got some crap to take care of as Hood”

Roy nodded in realization, “Sionis creepin’ on your turf again?”

Jason scoffed, “When is he not?”

I feel like I’m working 4 full-time jobs juggling all this bullshit. Dickhead and Wilson, and the old man and the demon brat, and the Light, and my side businesses…” Jason sighed, “I just need to go lay down the law again and make sure they remember what it feels like for me to be around. These idiots get ballsy or sloppy the moment they think I’m out of the picture for more than a month”

Roy patted his lower back where his bow and arrow holster was still strapped and ready, “Lead the way Mr. Hood” he joked.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason leaned over the metal desk of the furthest back room, "You sure this is up to date?" he asked without looking up. John nodded beside Mac, "I double-checked it last night but had the boys triple-check it when you called in that you were droppin' by"

Jason nodded, both pleased a displeased, "I want some assigned to keeping this updated. I don't care who gets pulled off a route. This information takes priority"

John glanced at Mac as Jason continued to review the large paper map of Gotham. The right edges bled into a makeshift map of the parts of Bludhaven they'd started going business in, but it was mostly used to keep tabs on street routes, underground check ways, and any public municipality updates that affected pathway access. Jason despised learning any political or socially elevated from Bruce, but he had to admit that being around the old man long enough gave him insight on who and how to keep track of local government officials. Most people wouldn't think that the local controller or head of public transportation would be important to a rising drug lord, but the updates from those men and women online and at community board meetings gave Jason's men a preemptive heads up and additional insight to the construction and new roadways being built. It enabled him to take advantage of construction portapotties for quick deals or know to avoid certain streets being shut down if they needed to move a body.

"What's this about, Hood?" John asked, his tone polite as always. Most people gave Jason shit for being younger, another reason he preferred his helmet and mask combo when in public, but John was his trusted right hand because the older man knew the difference between power and dumb youth. He always used Jason as an example for the new young dumb recruits, "Being young doesn't give you an automatic dumbass pass, but it also doesn't mean that you can't be wise. You can be either, you just gotta work for both"

Jason didn't answer at first so Mac leaned forward, "Is there something coming our way, sir? The boys haven't heard anything down the regular channels-"

Jason shook his head, "Nothing confirmed" he turned around to rest against the table and face John and Mac. He crossed his arms, "Update me on Sionis. Don't be formal, I want the gossip and the vibe" he jerked his chin.

John seemed befuddled, "Well things haven't exactly calmed down since the last deal's bust, but you knew that" Jason nodded, "Since then it's been hit or miss on if a deal goes down smoothly and the guys have started to talk-not just ours either-the streets in general...they think Sionis's men have one up on us somehow"

John nodded and frowned, "Being lucky is one thing, but this is a lucky streak"

Mac nodded, "It hasn't blown up yet and no one's been hurt too bad"

Jason looked up sharply and Mac explained, "One of the boys, that kid Jamal, got a little mouthy when a deal was already turning south. Ended up learning what a bullet hole feels like, but he's wrapped up and already back out there"

Jason frowned and stared at the ground in contemplation, "I want more regular updates" he barked, "Sionis thinks I'm busy with the Bats, and other shit-thinks he can act with consequence now"

"No disrespect Hood....but arent you busy with the Bats? You've been sighted with Redrobin all over Gotham and now Redarrow knows our main base site?"

Jason resisted the urge to sneer, "That's not the point" he replied evenly, "Sionis can't be allowed to get that message that I've taken a step back unless we want this shit to escalate...besides I don't want the punks to know we arent protected, but if you two thought that the bat and half the League didn't know where we were based out of, you're not as smart as I thought you were"

Jason sighed and pulled over a chair. He plopped himself down heavily and pulled out a light. He offered one to Redhood knowing the man wouldn't smoke with his helmet in place, "What's this all about?" he asked, "You know Mac and I can run operations well enough while you're buys with whatever you gotta handle, but you disappeared for a while a fe years ago and ever since then Sionis has been as ballsy as ever. Then you race back and want updates on him? Call at odd hours to check our security tapes?"

Silence reigned over their small private room for a bit. Redhood glanced at the main doors, imagining wherever Roy had situated himself for the time being, "I'm not certain yet but Black Mask is either about to become a much larger threat than we're prepared for or we have another player entering soon"

"What-"

"I've been being followed...tracked" Jason cut off his men, "You don't need the specifics of what I've been doing with the Bats but it's for our benefit that I resolve that so it'll continue for now," he said in a no-nonsense tone, "But I've been to every continent except Australia in the last year or so and whoever has been following me has also tracked me there. I've felt them and seen glimpses of them but can't confirm much else"

"And this stalker is bad?" Mac asked.

Jason shot him an incredulous look and Mac's hands flew up, "Sorry, boss, but you Bats can hide behind light poles and aren't necessarily something I'd be as worried about as Sionis's men getting the drop on us. I know which fight I'd leave with my fingers and dick intact" 

Jason couldn't contain his short laugh, "I get what you mean" he waved him off, "No this isn't friendly. That's half the danger actually. Not only do we not know who we're facing, we don't know when, and if they're stalking me-us- then it's only a matter of time before they act"

"So you want us to update the city's tunnels and roadway map and update you on our security feed more often" Jogn concluded, understanding more. Jason nodded, "Little things might be able to point me towards who this ,I and since Sionis may be the dickwad not respecting my personal bubble, I want to make sure he doesn't piss without us knowing"

John nodded, "You got it. We'll let you know if things get...weird, but you'll hear from us the moment Sionis oversteps"

Mac scoffed, "He's been overstepping"

Jason narrowed his eyes and watched them until they got the message, "But you'll hear of any trouble" Mac nodded to his boss.

Jason nodded and pushed off the table at his lower back, "Good. I've got some more things to handle today, but I'll be in town for the week so I'll be around more the next few days. Let's take care of some heavy lifting and schedule some of the bigger operations while I can be here to oversee"

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Roy smirked at the numerous glances and balked expressions he earned when he and Jason sauntered into Warehouse B52. He always appreciated how Jason never shied away from Roy or minimized what he spoke about just because of Roy’s obvious drug-related mishaps in the past. Most others didn’t either, but they weren’t also running a drug and gun smuggling side business that rivaled Black Mask. Despite the temptation being long gone, the sight of drugs and those familiar boxed crates still made his insides itch. When he explained it to Dinah, his live-in therapist, he told her it felt like a child gagging needlessly over broccoli. It didn't quite make sense but it didn't change the knee-jerk reaction that bubbled in his guts. He walked slightly behind and to the right of Jason to show that he wasn’t present as added protection, but he wasn't required to stick close either. Their affairs and businesses to the point of police exposure, and half the time they had Batman protecting them from rivals like Sionis. Roy loved to sit back and imagine just how confusing it all was to his lackeys. There were a few he knew right off the bat, like John. He was a simple guy who kept himself well-kept and clean-shaven despite his field of purview. It was probably why Jason picked him as stand-in second. The guy had even gone to college and was closest in line to Jason’s mindset in that criminal work was worth it if only the deserving got hurt and you yourself profited largely enough off of it. Everyone else fit the bill a little too well. Roy gazed around as he took in the unclean, unkempt, uneducated masses that had chosen to work for Redhood because they had nothing better going for them.

Redhood often offered his men a trial period where he tested the maliciousness of the people interested in working for him. Roy thought it was quite genius but had been surprised when he learned that Tim suggested it. Redhood always started them on a job that was particularly brutal, and offered multiple chances to hurt civilians to increase the efficiency of the job. It was a way for Hood to determine who had the potential to get the job done, but the self-control and conscience not to hurt just anybody in their path. Roy had been surprised to learn that Jason had actually taken Tim's advice and run with it, but of course, he never told anyone.

Jason, suited up in his dark leathers and bright red helmet, had offered a single dismissive nod to Roy, letting him know he would be on his own while he handled certain men and put other orders in place moving forward. Roy had seen him on his phone every second he wasn't dealing with a Dick emergency. His men were loyal and bold, but lacked the experience that Sionis managed to wrangle from his men. It was almost a young wolf versus the old pack mentality at war in Gotham and Roy knew it was only a matter of time before Sionis snapped and did something he’d regret. He most likely wouldn't be expecting Batman and countless others to fly to Redhood’s aid if anything became too severe as well. Roy stopped short and realized once Jason was rescued from the Court's deal to sell Redhood to Black Mask, that may be the exact backup plan he was expecting.

Roy walked past the crates and boxes of drugs, that had been smuggled or were due to ship out of that very harbor soon, before finding a corner of the warehouse to relax back into. If Jason wanted him, he’d send someone to get him. Roy only wanted to tag along to make sure his childhood friend was okay. He and Artemis had seen the gradual change in Jason over the past few years. He was still his typical, reliably rough self, usually lashing out at others, and going very few days without dropping a curse word in inappropriate situations. But Roy had seen the differences slowly creep in. He spent more time with Tim, and looked at him directly when he speaking nowadays; whereas he used to barely offer him a passing glance. Damian too, the young boy, now on the very cusp of adulthood was being humored more and more often by his older brother. When Damian had moved in, the old only who called Damian by his name was Dick for quite a long time, but recently, Jason had not only been speaking with the kid, he’d been humoring his outburst, and almost simpering him in a way. Placing a calming hand, or offering a short shake of his head to direct the boy in moments of high tension. Roy had seen more than a handful of times when the kid looked ready to combust or throw a weapon, only to be stopped by a subtle sign or movement from Jason…something that Msot would have only thought possible by Dick before.

It was understandable and fortunate that they’d become closer in Dick’s absence, but Roy had seen the change go both ways. The way Tim looked to Jason for confirmation and permission just as much as Bruce now, or the way Damian referred to Redhood as the leading authority and brother. 

Dick would be proud, but would've hated what it took to get them here.

He found some old cement bags that had been hardened by too much sun and rooftop leaks before stacking 2 more and collapsing back with a small, “Oomph”

He leaned forward and pulled his bow and arrows from his back and laid them over his lap. He stretched out his legs and looked around, taking malicious pleasure in being able to stare down everyone and observe them. Everyone was staring at him between their work and small talk, but obviously weren't sure what kind of change this would offer their internal power hierarchy. Despite Roy’s insistence that he tag along, while Jason handled who knows what and put orders in place for the next time he was gone, Roy quickly found boredom setting in. He pulled out a pocket knife and started to sharpen the tips of his steel arrows, slicing away at the tips of the most dulled-looking ones.

Amongst the shuffling footsteps of Gotham’s finest criminals, a pair of feet much closer than the others drew Roy’s attention. He looked up to see a young man watching him. Roy offered him a quirked expression, curious how ballsy or interested the kid was. The kid looked to be barely 19, just a little older than Damian. He glanced over his shoulder to where some other youths were mingling and Roy realized that this kid was either the bolest or had drawn the short straw between his friends.

Roy leaned forward, “Yes?” 

The kid shuffled his feet before glancing after where Jason had disappeared with some much older men, “Is shit going down?”

Roy blinked in surprise, “What?” he asked dumbly. The kid furrowed his brow as if trying to rephrase, “That’s why Mr. Hood hired you right? We’re finally striking back out at Black Mask’s people?”

Roy glanced to where Jason had disappeared, glad that his eyes were still covered by his domino mask, “No” he said simply.

The kid parted his lips to speak but Roy cut him off, “What’s your name?”

The brown-haired young adult seemed stunned and Roy felt irritation rise within. These kids needed to have better reflexes, mentally and physically, to survive. He’d have to bring it to Jason’s attention that he had some indecisive kids working for him, “Name. Your name, kid” he said lowly. His tone seemed to inspire something and the kid forced out, “Jack. My name is Jack”

Roy was seconds away from sneering at the kid when he stopped, He didn't say Jacks, he reminded himself. “Well...Jack” Roy said, “You and your friends over there better not be too excited for a turf war anytime soon”

Jack frowned as if he was offended by Roy’s claim, but Roy didn't allow him a word, “I know none of you can legally drink and probably can’t wait 'till your squad leader lets you handle a gun on duty, am I right?”

Jack’s face was getting redder and more confused by the moment, “You’re all gangly and thin and wouldn’t last a minute in a real fight, let alone running from one” Roy stood up, suddenly finding it far too easy to allow the past couple of pointless missions to get to him, just as they had obviously been getting to Jason, “You don’t need a chance to prove yourself to Mr. Redhood” he mocked in a cold tone, “You need some hair on your chest, a reliable girlfriend, a college degree, and a fucking driver’s license before you’re gonna benefit fucking anybody with your reckless punk ass attitude-”

“Arrow” 

Roy and Jack both turned to see Redhood leaning against the opening of a partially constructed room off to the left. Apparently, he was done speaking with some of his older members and had returned just to find Roy belittling some of his runts into the verbal ground. Roy glared and jerked a thumb at the kid, “These little punks just want action. They don’t know the fucking consequences they’re asking for-”

“I’ll handle them” he cut the archer off. Roy glared, aware that he was very close to challenging Redhood in front of his own men, on his own ground. He turned and picked up his stuff, “I’ll be at the docks” he said.

Jason watched his friend go, knowing that Roy’s temper was short and he, similar to Jason, was just removing himself before he exploded on his friend. He looked at Jack and wished he could take his helmet off so the kid could see his acute glare even better, “He’s not wrong” Redhood said, letting everyone watch, “If you’re so excited for action, I’ll just toss you to Sionis’ men now. The moment you pick up a gun to kill someone for the action, you better be prepared to die”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason found Roy down at the docks. The archer had hopped onto a private dock and was kicking his feet over the wooden ledge. Roy looked up but Jason spoke quicker, “Don’t worry about it. I know that kid and his friends. They won’t ever see any real action, they’re only good for acting as my mules”

Roy frowned but nodded, “I guess I didn’t realize how fucking fed up I was until that punk basically announced he wanted some action”

Jason nodded, “The kid's gonna die”

Roy looked up at Jason, “He's gonna get killed” Jason said solemnly, firmly. He stared out at the water, watching the murky depth slosh and splash at the wooden posts below them. Roy’s lips tugged down at the announcement but he wasn't sure what to say, “That’s a bit harsh”

Jason shrugged, “It’s reality,” he said, “I only hired the kid because it’s obvious he’d never turn on me himself, but he’ll never last as long as John or my other men. Some people are raised shitty and just never develop the common sense they need to do more than survive…sometimes survival is asking too much of them, even”

Roy scoffed, “Little hypocritical there, dude”

Jason laughed once behind his mask but it was dark and muted, “Yea, but that’s what I mean” he said honestly, “If the old man didn't find me and teach me basically fucking everything, I probably would've been like him, hell I was him until Talia tossed me in the fucking pit. Probably would've been dead by now honestly. I had less sense and more balls than Jack by the time I was trying to steal the Batmobile’s tires”

Roy laughed, but his insides didn't feel any better. They were still hot and tight and twisted and he hated it…he hated Dick for causing this mess. The sudden tightness in his chest moved up to his throat and a few seconds passed where Roy sat still and wondered if he would throw up. The feeling slowly subsided with deep slow breaths but the acidic taste lingered, “Sometimes I really hate him, but I try not to dwell on it too much because I don’t want it to be genuine-”

“Because you still think he’ll eventually come back home and be normal and you don’t want to hate him when he’s healing,” Jason said with a small smile. Roy looked at him and realized he’d taken off his helmet and was now running his fingers over the bright red paint. His domino mask remained but after growing up around all the Robins, Roy and Wally were professional face readers with the 50% of the face they could see from Dick, Jason, and the other Robins.

“I know it’s stupid,” he said, “I do, but if we don’t think that normal is possible again, that we aren’t getting Dick back, then what are we doing all this for?”

Jason scoffed, “Well according to the Justice League we’re doing this for the rest of the world..we’re doing this so the Light can’t do worse”

Roy slapped his gloved palms against the wood beside them, “I mean..I mean yea! But fuck that” he snapped. Jason laughed but it fell off into a heavy sigh. 

“I don't know what to tell you man. I’m in the same boat. I keep remembering Dick like this happy-go-lucky dork that only ever cried when we played unfair” Jason smiled slightly as he watched the water ripple and churn beneath their dangling boots, “His big baby blues would get all watery and stupid and we’d have to calm him down and stop crying just to reassure him” Jason broke off into a more authentic chuckle, “Sometimes I was convinced he actually just learned how to cry on command really well but..I don’t know….every time we see him now he’s pissed at us or B, or his eyes aren’t the same anymore. I mean they are-they were blue, which is good, but we all know that they should be yellow 'cause the dork is so emotional, but they’re not yellow and he won't tell us why and what happened so now I can’t even be glad about him seeming back to normal and- GAH!”

Jason just broke off with an abrupt yell that warbled at the end. Roy’s forehead creased, “Let’s just stop. This isn't helping anything”

Jason looked ready to chuck his helmet into the disgusting waters of Gotham Bay, “No! It’s not! But nothing else is either!”

“Dude-”

“No!” Jason shoved to his feet and pulled his arm back with a vengeance that could've dislocated the joint. Roy watched in shock as Jason launched his helmet into the water. The helmet disappeared before it popped back up with an anticlimactic plop. Water readily filled the helmet and sunk it one final time. Roy didn’t know what to say, No matter how close he, Dick, Jason, and Wally were, Dick was always the reliably emotional one. The one who could be counted on to reel in spiraling emotions and qual tempers with his easy empathy. Jason was breathing heavily but he seemed unfulfilled, “I swear to God I’m gonna get him back” he turned on Roy who was still sitting down, staring up at the dark leather-clad anti-hero, “I’m not stupid” he insisted, “I’m not. I know things will be different” he ran a hand through his dark hair as the saltwater air started to affect the curls that were usually forced down, “He died but-but I mean I died and things were okay again, after a while” he added weakly. I can’t accept this” he insisted to the ocean this time, “I can’t let Wilson win. I won’t let him take Dick and convince him that we aren’t good for him. I can’t not see that dumb loser again. I’m sick of being there for Damian and Tim. I’m not cut out for this and Bruce has always been shit at it but I don’t know if Dick actually despises me now or if Slade’s just in his head-”

Roy pushed himself to his feet and grabbed Jason’s biceps, squeezing him in what he hoped was a reassuring way. He wasn't blind to Jason’s fears were but they were tenfold of what he had imagined. He thought that Jason had been doing a good job of walling up and being an asshole like usual but he should've seen the cracks from the beginning. Wally just broke first and drew attention away from him and Jason by lashing out in the beginning. He hoped to calm and comfort his friend with the physical contact that he was obviously missing his older brother, but Roy wasn’t prepared for Jason to turn and throw a whole arm over Roy's shoulder. He regained his composure quickly and forced the burning in the backs of his eyes to subside in response. He raised his arm and gripped back just as tightly, clenching the leather of Jason’s jacket until his fist ached fiercely. The pair stood there, slightly swaying in response to the strong sea breeze that gusted against their large frames. Roy held Jason back in a one-armed hug, determined to stand as long and tightly as the other man needed. He wouldn't lie and say he wasn't worried because he’d never seen anyone hug Jason aside Dick and Bruce; ever.

“Jay-”

“Don’t” came a rough and muffled voice, the underlying wet tones and an already stuffy nose were as clear as day.

Roy nodded before his other hand came up to engulf his friend even more. Jason didn't offer anything more than his one arm but he seemed to shudder before collapsing into Roy’s chest further. It was strange to hug someone so big, but Roy was desperate to offer any action or words to help soften the blow of Dick's betrayal.

“We’ll get him home. We will” Roy stressed, hoping, needing Jason to believe him. Because Jason was right, if they didn't beat the belief into their souls, if they didn't actually think saving Dick and being a normal family again was remotely possible, what were they doing? Could they really afford to run around, like they had been for the past 2 years, maybe even longer at the rate things were going, just for them to give up at the end and claim the emotional aggravation and ceaseless reasons to sob were all to neutralize the Light? Could they really stand there as Dick picked Slade Wilson over them again and again?

No matter how much Roy wanted to offer Dick the autonomy he desired, and the benefit of the doubt for his warped independence, how could they trust their brother’s actions?

What if he really was stuck in his own head and pleading for help every time Slade let him out? What if he was so far down the Bat raised rabbit hole that he thought hurting them, and scarring them emotionally would keep them at arm's distance and allow him to keep them safer by proxy? Roy had no idea what was truly going on, or what they could do, or what would happen, and if he spent too long thinking about it, he knew he’d be in Jason’s position now. He had to push it aside and reinstate his mantra that they’d get Dick back, if only so that there was always someone strong enough to be the pillar for others.

Jason had been their cold stone pillar for too long. The winds had been too harsh, the environment unforgiving, and time had corroded his solidarity… Jason was cracking and Roy had already lost one of his Robins, he wouldn't lose 2.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Later that night, after both young men had managed to pull themselves together, they found themselves on the cusp of Gotham and Bludhaven, “Isn’t Dick’s old apartment close to here?” Roy asked.

Jason nodded as he passed Roy a bag of grease and called it a burger, “He barely had it for a year but whenever we were done with patrol, we’d ditch B and come find Nightwing. He’d usually buy us burgers at this shithole” Jason nodded to the burger joint at the corner of the building they were sitting atop the ledge of, “If it wasn’t too late”

Jason smirked, but his red-rimmed eyes and clogged nose defeated the purpose, “Sometimes he’d tell us to go home because it was too late so we’d show up with food and force him to host”

Roy grabbed a fistful of fries and made a laughing sound in the back of his throat, “I remember he used to complain about being late at least once a week because he was dropping Damian or Tim off at school, but he was always late anyways. Living part-time in Blud. and still going to Gotham High”

Jason sighed, “Yeah, that last year was rough when Dick was half moved out of the house. Golden boy and Bruce were at each other’s throats, but I mean, compared to the crapfest right now….I used to say that if it weren't for us and Alfred, Dick would never visit, but then I started to realize that if it weren't for B, he never would have left”

“Yeah”, Roy agreed, “So” he steered the conversation away, “Did you lay down the law with John and his guys”

Jason shrugged, “We’ll see. John’s a good guy. Takes care of a lot for me, and he’s been handling Mask well as well as any sane son of a bitch can. It was some other stuff I wanted to check on though”

“Like what?” Roy leaned back and tossed his bow and arrows slightly behind them. Jason took a bite of his burger so as to not answer right away and Roy frowned, realizing something else might be up, “Dude”

Eventually Jason answered, “I don’t know yet, which is why I’m keeping uit nder wraps-I don't wanna yell fire if there’s no fire, but every time we’re back in Gotham, or the East Coast really…I think I’m being followed”

“Okay?” Roy said in puzzlement.

“I’ve never been able to see them, but I know someone was watching me at least twice, probably more though. Nothing's happened, but I wanted to have John check security cameras and inventory in case it was someone that Sionis sent, Jason shook his head, “But if they can track me this well, like know where I am and how to stay out of sight well enough, it-it can’t be Black Mask”

Roy nodded in agreement, “He’s dangerous, but he’s not skilled like that”

Jason nodded, “Exactly, which is why I have no idea what’s up. No one made a move against me, and Damian and Tim haven't said anything”

“But neither have you” Roy pointed out.

Jason scowled, “Yea, but Tim’s got stupid fucking common sense. He would know to say something if he was being stalked”

“It could be anyone it sounds like”

Jason glared at his fries, “Yep” he popped the P, “I thought it was the Light, like Luthor sending someone, or even the Shadows-they’re good enough not to be caught, but I don’t know”

“Talons” Roy suggested.

Jason jolted before giving him a strange look.

“It could be” Roy defended, “They’re assassins too”

“Yeah but they're all either dead or on the run”

“Yeah, I guess, but we also know literally nothing about them right now. Cobb could have gotten the survivors back already. And didn’t one escape the watchtower?”

Jason frowned, “That was years ago”

Roy glared in frustration, “So? We don't know jack squat about them right now. Our only in was Dick and…well…” he gestured around them as if the shit show he was referring to was in the very air on top of the roof, “How do you know there aren’t stragglers, or that Cobb hadn't sent them after you?”

Jason’s brow bent deeper, “Why just me?” he egged.

Roy clenched his jaw, “I. Don't. Know. My point is that it could be anything, for any reason ”

Jason held up his hands, “Fine, fine. I get you, but so far it seems we can rule out Black Mask, even though he’s still out for my ass”

Roy sighed as he fought for greater patience, before he could respond, Jason’s waist beeped loudly. The dark-haired man reached for it in a way that told Roy it was a specific signal. Just as Jason pulled out his own comm, Roy’s ear beeped. He’d forgotten to remove his own comm after the mission, “What's up?” he asked, holding a finger to his ear. He saw Jason watching him between glances at his own message.

“Another Op.” Wally’s voice came over the line. Roy felt his earlier weariness, which had slowly been dissolving beneath Jason’s collapse and their fast food, re-emerge with a vengeance. Wally, no doubt, heard his sigh and spoke quickly, “I signed us up for this one already. We leave tomorrow”

Roy’s lips distorted, “I’m fucking beat Walls, I might sit this out and stay back with Lian”

“No, you won't” Wally insisted quickly, "Dick sent the message”

“Dick?” Roy asked. He saw Jason’s head jerk up and pin him with a sharp focus, “Yea" Wally confirmed, “He’ll be at this next one. We need to go. I’m gonna make sure Arty can come too”

“Good” Roy said, “I’m with Jason, we’ll head back to you within the hour”

“Meet ya' at Mount Justice”

Chapter 23

Notes:

Hey!

Sorry this one feels extra long lol

 

 

“Again”, Jason asked irritatedly, “Why did you ask her to come?”

“I’m right here, asshole” Rose snapped. 

Tim cast Jason a quick sideways glance, unconcerned with his brother's usual venom, “The coordinates that Dick sent are between China and  Rose’s family village, “I thought she’d like to see them”

“We’re not a public bus for miscreants to pay wage to” Damian sneered. Rose glared, which turned deeper when Jason said, “What the demon child said. We’re not a bus for people to hitch a ride to” he pointed a finger at Tim, “Besides we all know what’s not gonna happen. Bruce thinks she’s here to help with Wilson and Dick, not to vacay with family”

Tim smirked as Jason seemed to rile himself up to greater lengths, and with no additional pestering from anyone, “We’ll see. I’m just telling you the plan” he drawled innocently. He was looking down at his laptop screen and typing away, offering occasional humoring glances at Jason and Damian.

“This is gonna turn into a shit show the moment your dad sees us throwing you into danger”

She rolled her eyes. Her irises were too grey and too light to be Dick’s bright, vibrant shade, “He is danger, Jason. It’ll be fine. My 15th birthday was spent in a war-bombed migrant encampment because he wanted to finish the job while he was in the area”

The pair of green-eyed, dark-haired boys had been furious at the large mission cohort. Batman had accepted everyone willing to come, under the exception that they listened to orders. Jason rolled his eyes, fuck that.  In reality, there was a small chance they were flying off to a mission that would, once again, only host Eerie, but after weeks of radio silence from Dick and occasional mission meet-ups with Eerie, this message had come as a surprise. Batman had received the digital note from the same encrypted access point as Eerie’s messages had been, except the message had a hint of personality, something that Ronan lacked severely.

Ronan’s messages could have been written by Slade for all they knew. The mission parameters were nothing more than a location meet-up with a time and date and a briefly coded explanation about the mission itself. The message they’d received 3 days ago had read:

 

35.8617° N, 104.1954° E

 

96 hours

 

See ya there!

 

It hadn't screamed Dick Grayson but in comparison to the usual messages they’d received, it had his name all over it. Tim had, of course, played devil’s advocate and brought up how cheerful it was. He said it conflicted with the aggressiveness they’d received from Dick in the past and that the Light might be on to their agreement, “This might be them intercepting and sending us into a trap or a wild goose chase” Tim argued, “It’s not very hard to act like Dick and sound upbeat”

After almost an entire day of debating, Batman had decided the risk was worth it, and in doing so, accepted as many volunteers as was offered to him. Superman was still working with certain members of the League to cool and quell the heated underlying tones within their organization so he was more than glad to have Batman physically away from League obligations at the moment. he only requested that Bruce not hesitate to reach out for further backup and assistance if needed. Half the League greatly disliked how readily obvious it was that Wonder Woman and Superman were willing to work with Batman on his harebrained scheme. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, and other supporters of Batman had reportedly only been able to keep them appeased, and subdue another disastrous vote, by remaining off the missions themselves so far.

According to Clark and Diana, it hadn't been a wise choice for Bruce to threaten half of the League with secret blueprints and formulations to take down and dismantle the world’s most unified force of humans and metas.

Jason dragged his irritated gaze past Rose and Tim to behind Damian where Barbara was sitting, beside Artemis. She had been resistant to anyone visiting her dad, besides Bruce. The doctors still weren’t sure what was wrong with him besides occasional symptoms of heart failure, and general low immunity. Some suspected that it was a new or strangely developed cancer-some tumor that was giving strange symptoms but appeared to be undetectable. Bruce had half of Oliver’s lab technicians and chemists on it, but the process was slow going. It was a combination of being unable to provide immense manpower or else questions would start to be thrown around as to whether Gotham’s chief commissioner was being given preferential medical support and attention from a private biotechnical firm and research company from Star Labs. The moment, anyone connected the dots between Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen, a media storm would blow into a frenzy and make matters worse. On top of that, the Light’s movements, coupled with regular hero obligations, were putting Barry and Ollie’s men on a shorter leash and with fewer resources to expend at their whim. Bruce had offered to throw out their entire plan and ship Barbra’s dad to the best medical facilities in North America, but she declined for now.

__________

“He’s fine for now, Bruce. The symptoms are still there but he’s not actually getting worse”

“We need to know what’s going on, Barbra” Bruce said seriously.

She glared, “Of course we do! But my dad wouldn't want to draw resources away from Gotham or Dick, so until it’s a true emergency he’s fine with Gotham’s best. I haven't seen a single bill since he was admitted, Bruce. I know that you’re having your dad’s hospital send all my family's expenses to you”

Bruce fought to come up with a reason that diminished Barabara’s logic. She knew she was right and Bruce hated that Batman would agree, “We’re moving him if he worsens”

She nodded, “If”

_______________

Everyone, with the exception of Zantanna, Connor, and Miss Martian had been able to make it; all but informing Batman of their intention to accompany him…approved or not. Roy had even told Jason that apparently, Wally had been making covert plans to activate the nearest zeta transport tubes if Bruce had been against their presence for this mission. Tensions had been strange recently. Bruce and Tim seemed to be passively battling for the priority leadership position in each mission, while Wally seemed uncertain as to whether or not he still despised Dick’s brothers. He and Kaldur seemed to be firm in their resistance to giving Batman an easy time, but Jason suspected Roy had spoken with Wally after that night at the harbor. Jason wasn’t proud of the way he’d bared himself to the archer but was glad that he had chosen a somewhat private moment and place to combust instead of on a mission or in front of Bruce and his brothers.

He had tried to prolong admitting what happened to his helmet because of his need for it in the field, and finally confessed to Aflred, trying to keep the details as vague as possible. Currently, the older man was under the assumption that Jason had been thrown into the harbor during a solo patrol, and that he'd yanked his helmet off to breathe before realizing a solid and well-built helmet like his didn't come with buoys. After a great deal of admonishment, the butler, had worked with Luscious to supply a backup model from Wayne tech. Ent., but Jason had to spray paint the black model bright red in the meantime.

Jason dragged his attention away from Babs when he realized he’d been staring vacantly at the redhead. Jason fought the urge to wrinkle his nose at the amount of redheads in their jet and on Dick’s current team, This guy has a ginger fetish or something. The number of redheads willing to throw themselves on a blade for Dickie was higher beyond just their mission. Starfire was off-planet, the Flash was busy, and- Jason cut himself off from continuing the mental checklist.

“We’re close,” Batman said from up front. His deep voice was steady and calm, but no one could claim they didn't hear him over the deafening silence and the hum of the AC panels. Jason looked back down to Tim and leaned over his shoulder, “What's that?” he asked, mostly from boredom. Tim didn't look back as he answered, “Dick’s tracker”

Jason cocked his head but Damian spoke over him, “Why are you confirming his location when we know Richard will be meeting us?”

Tim narrowed his eye at Damian’s tone, “One” he said just as snidely, “We don’t know that for sure. And two” he looked back to his laptop screen, “Dick’s tracker hasn’t been consistent in the way reliable trackers should be”

“What do you mean?” Artemis asked, drawing Bab’s attention. Tim shrugged, “I’m not certain yet but either, the tracker is failing for some reason, or they know about it and are fiddling with it to throw us off course. Slade or Dick could be checking it without destroying it to see if we would follow a projected GPS location over a real one”

Damian frowned and Batman, who had made his way back from the pilot’s seat while the ship auto-landed, nodded, “I’m not surprised” he said, “They probably suspected we’d placed something on them at some point throughout our overlapping interactions. Wilson wouldn't miss an opportunity to have an advantage like this, but it's something he would've done as well” he looked at Jason and Tim, “We’re no longer putting complete faith in the tracker anymore. Keep an eye out on its location pings though”

Tim frowned at the order but nodded.

“Where does it say it is now?” Kaldur asked.

Tim double-checked, “It’s still retrieving data from my last pull, but 2 hours ago it confirmed it was a few miles south of the coordinates Dick sent us”

“Well that’s one thing in our favor” Babs offered with a slight voice.

Roy leaned forward, “We’ll see,” he said grumpily, “But I swear to god if all we see is that fucking British asshole-”

“He’s Irish” Damian corrected.

“What do you care?” Wally demanded.

“Either know your enemies, or don’t, fool” Damian countered, “He’s Irish, and calling him British would no doubt lead to chaos as the Irish despise the British for years of slavery, starvation, and colonaization. It’s as foolish as calling Wildcat African, when he is clearly South African”

“How do you know he is South African?” Batman inquired.

”His accent is slight enough and I,” he said haughtily, “Am diversified from my time with mother”

“He’s not wrong," Tim muttered.

“I don't care!” Roy growled”

“Awww are we having some ginger jealously over here?” Jason cooed. Roy narrowed his eyes dangerously on Jason, only for Jason to pucker his lips at him. His mischievous gaze dragged to Barbra who already had her narrowed gaze set on him dangerously; cutting off any further jokes. The ship jostled slightly as the engine power altered to counter for the approaching descent. Roy mouthed a final threat to Jason before sitting back as the ship landed with a final dip.

Jason batted his eyelashes, despite being masked, only to growl and mutter, “Ouch” as Damian punched him in the shoulder, “Focus, Todd”

“Focus” he mimicked in a high-pitched tone.

Tim ignored them both and slid his laptop into a side compartment of his sat before clambering over the pair in a way that earned his grunts and growls, “Whoops” Tim said in a bland voice. Damian and Jason watched him go with a brotherly viciousness before following the second youngest. Their group quickly suited up and took stock of their weapons, making sure they had enough knives, batarangs, comms, arrows, and anything else Batman could fit on his sons. In another world, Bruce’s incessant overpacking would've been of sunscreen or water bottles on a hot day. But Tim had been born into a world where Bruce handed him extra duct tape strips and forced 4 extra Batarangs into a thigh pouch that was already jammed full of loose additional bullet casings from Jason. 

Batman surveyed them all at the front of the pilot's cabin when his eyes landed on Rose; suited up and looking ready for a mission. His white lenses narrowed and he looked at Tim, “You said Wilson’s daughter would only need a ride”

Rose’s cheeks heated slightly at the indirect confrontation. She seemed to hold her hands in front of herself; conflicted about whether or not she wanted to argue her case or avoid eye contact with her father’s rival. Jason barked out a harsh laugh and stepped up. He patted Bruce on the chest, once over the Bat insignia, “You believed him? Come on old man”. He stepped past Bruce and to the door before forcing the cabin door open. He didn't wait for the stairs to descend and merely leaped off. The rest of the teens and young adults followed Redhood’s lead and quickly hopped off, avoiding eye contact with the Dark Knight the entire time.

Jason scanned their surroundings and tapped his comm twice, taking it off auto. If he were going solo, he’d have it set to automatically pick up his speech and distress signals without needing to tap his earpiece, but with the amount of reinforcements at his back he doubted he’d need it. They were in a rocky valley terrain. The mountains were vast and slopping with occasional trees and shrubbery dotting their view. The varying greenery poked through the rocks and hillside, offering minimal coverage from anything aerial. Batman had landed them closest to a large cluster of trees before putting the majority of the ship’s power towards its camouflage shield.

“There” Tim tilted his chin towards the east where a single pilot jet was taking off from over a cresting hill slope in the distance, “Everyone should make sure they're in camo mode, if possible” Tim ordered, “We’re gonna be out in the open for anyone to see. They’re here first so we’re already at a disadvantage”

Jason narrowed his eyes when no one moved, “You heard him” he snapped. Wally eyed Jason before he tapped his chest, instantly smothering his yellow and red suit beneath a black and burgundy one. Artemis, in turn, took down her high ponytail and instead braided it back into a long tight French braid. She slipped it beneath the neck of her suit while Barbra did the same with her shorter, brighter red locks. There was little else the others could do but Jason nodded as he watched Damian lower his shoulders to allow his short black cape to encompass his front torso as much as it could. He was surprised that the kid hadn't dropped the cape, like he and the replacement had, but saw it as understandable as the kid still romanticized everything about the Dark Knight and Robin's origins

“What kind of formation should we approach in?” Kaldur asked. Barbra nodded, “That’s a good point, if we climb over the hill, then we’ll have a better viewpoint for longer but as soon as we crest it, they’ll spot us too easily”

“We cannot afford to just enter unknown territory from flat terrain or climb up,” Damian said with crossed arms, “We will be spotted sooner with no coverage in front of us at all”

Tim narrowed his gaze on the hills to the east as they bickered beside him, “Wally” he asked. Wally stepped up, “You want me to do a sweep?”

Tim nodded, “I think so. We’ll use route A, and get as close as we can but stop before we do crest the mountain, but I think sending you in to do a perimeter sweep, so we have an idea of the layout, will be best”

Artemis looked like she wanted to object but Roy nudged her shoulder, “Tim’s right. There are barely even any clouds out here. They’ll spot us in no time so we need to know the layout of their base before he we move in and try to make contact with Dick and the others”

She didn’t look happy about it, “What about a drone? We’re sending him in alone, and he won't know the layout either-it's dangerous” she said.

Wally frowned but didn't speak out against his girlfriend. Tim shook his head, “The drone would get shot down and we want to be anonymous for as long as possible before we confirm what Deathstroke’s men have been sent here to do”

“You will only be doing a parameter sweep,” Batman said lowly from behind their group. Wally turned in surprise before nodding, “Circle as many times as you need but do not cross through their base. Do not draw undo attention”

Tim nodded as Wally looked back and forth between them. He nodded as they began to set out in a 2 person single file line, “I’ll be fine” he assured Artemis. He gripped her hand where her green forearm coverings stopped to allow her bare fingers free to manipulate her arrows and bow trying more articulately. She narrowed her eyes and pursued her lips, but decided against speaking. She squeezed his black-clad fingers back just as tightly and nodded. They crossed the miles of distance in just under 2 hours, but Jason knew they were only going slowly to appease Tim’s and Bruce’s paranoid nature. The two were going to bust a blood vessel from the number of times they tried to simultaneously scan the skies and their peripherals. 

When they arrived, Artemis eventually allowed Wally his hand back. He leaned in with a slight smile and kissed her cheek, “I’ll be fine. I’ve done tons of run-arounds before. Besides I just ate so I'll be quicker right now”

Batman cleared his throat as the pair lingered and Jason crossed his arms, "If you're jealous, go kiss Selena”

Bruce narrowed his eyes but didn't reply. Wally nodded to Tim and then dropped his goggles over his eyes. He was gone by their next blink. The dark grey of his suit gave way to a smokey dust kind of look instead of a more obvious blur of yellow. Their group didn't need to wait long as Wally returned in another dark misty blur, “It looks like robotics smuggling” was the first thing he reported.

“What?” Tim asked.

Wally nodded, “They have tooooons of different boxes and pieces down there and I think the jets we keep seeing are picking them up, not dropping them off”

“Did you see Richard?” Damian asked hotly.

Wally shook his head, “He might be inside the camp, but I stuck to the outskirts. I did see Falcon though, she’s here”

“What else did you see?” Batman demanded.

Wally caught his breath, “Tons of stuff. Different robot arms, microchips, and motherboards. There was even a plate of some high-tech looking USB drives”

“Describe the layout of the territory you did venture to,” Batman said sternly, “Do they all look like Deathstroke’s men? How long have they been here?”

“How should I know that?” Wally looked dumbfounded.

 

“Tents”

“Food rations”

“State of their clothing”

“Latrins”

Jason, Tim, Barbra, and Damian all snapped at once.

 

Wally looked stupified, eventually looking to Roy and his girlfriend for aid. Kaldur sighed, “Kidflash please just describe everything you saw”

Wally nodded slowly, still unsure about making eye contact with the Bats before him, “It’s a giant circle so it wasn't hard to run around. The center has a few tents but not a ton so I’m not sure how long they've been here, and it’s not like everyone’s got dirt and a beard on their face. Ummm-oh and some of their uniforms are different. Some look like those guys from Estonia but some are dressed differently”

“Like Queen Bee’s men?”

“No, I mean they could be, but they’re not dressed the same. They’re all in black but the guys that aren't Deathstroke’s men are obviously part of some company or group. They’ve all got little insignias like this”

Wally crouched down and turned over a rock, revealing grass and dirt. He scrapped the grass away until moist soil remained. He jabbed his finger down and drew a crude outline of a modern-day shield crest with loops and squiggles throughout”

Artemis gasped and Batman narrowed her eyes, “That’s the same design that was on Connor’s container when we found him” she said.

“Really?” Wally asked. Roy seemed to want to groan at the younger man’s short-term memory. Batman nodded, “Expected,” he said shortly, “That’s a subsidiary of Luthor’s private security firm. The lines are the LLC incorporated name, not squiggles,” he said with an obvious distaste for Wally’s choice of verbiage. 

“Great” Jason snapped, “Now we gotta deal with fuckin’ Luthor?”

“Lex Luthor has been a player before anyone else, moron,” Damian said, “He’s been sustaining the Light’s funding for Cobb’s experiments for years”

“That we know of” Tim interjected. Damian’s gaze narrowed but didn't dispute anything. Tim glanced behind their group to where Wally had just returned from. He watched the crest for a few minutes before he turned back to Batman, his domino mask indented slightly, “I’m not sure what the best approach is” he admitted, “We either keep sending Wally down until he finds Dick to make contact with someone safely, or we take our chances and just move in as a fortified group”

“Our best chances would be something along those lines. We would not have Kidflash make contact with whoever we deemed safest. He would take a note or message from us and leave it for Wilson to find. He or his men will come to us where we will be waiting with the upper ground advantage” he gestured to Artemis and Roy, “We only have 2 long-range distance fighters so attacking them down there from up here would be disadvantageous. W-”

Batman stopped and whipped around to face the hillcrest, but slightly to the right, where it bent and began to slope downward, “Come out, now” he ordered in the tone reserved for criminals.

Before anyone could voice their confusion, a dark head poked itself up, “Richard!” Damian exclaimed in shock.

Dick grunted and heaved himself up and over the steeply curved soil, digging his fingers in where the ground softened too much to be stable. He was dressed in dark green, almost black with black sunglasses placed over his face, “Could never fool you, Bruce” he quipped with a smile. He made his way over to the group with an overly relaxed sentiment. His fitted cargo pants matched his short sleeve shirt and Jason was tempted to make a joke about Dick roleplaying for just the fun parts of the army. Dick scanned the group and ran a hand through his hair. He spotted Tim watching him with a closeness that rivaled anger. Dick pushed his sunglasses up and into his hair, “It’s just me, Timmy, no need to worry, just gotta protect these baby blues” he joked. He tapped his temple.

“He’s worried because the last time we also saw you, all we heard was a rabid dog” Dick turned towards Roy who stood beside Wally and Artemis. Dick’s lip twitched with a quick sporadic hint of emotion before it smoothed itself out, “Sorry about that” he said calmly, “I was a little sick”

Wally’s face didn’t smooth but he stepped forward, “Rob, seriously. Are you alright? We heard some shit back in Estonia and haven't seen you since”

Dick’s brow folded at the concern his friend was showing, “Thanks, Walls. I am, seriously”

“That is good to hear my friend, but if I can inquire? What is the purpose of all of this?” Kaldur asked

Dick went to speak but Deathstroke’s voice cut him off, “Did the speedster not get a good enough look when he went pilfering through my inventory?”

The group turned as one to find Deathstroke and Eerie at their backs. The pair had most likely taken a designated up the slope and not heaved themselves up like Dick had. Batman didn't waste a second, “Deathstroke” he growled, “Explain yourself. What are you smuggling?”

The masked man dragged his gaze to Bruce, “Wayne” he greeted cordially, “I’m merely the insurer for someone higher up on the corporate food chain today. As soon as we’ve seen all of these shipments delivered to the appropriate channels, my work is done here”

“Where are they going? What exactly are you shipping?” Tim crossed his arms.

Slade crossed his arms, “Now, now, small detective…I’m sure your speedster told you enough about what’s in the crates and shipment pallets. As for where, well that would be a bit too long to dissect”

Dick rolled his eyes as Slade dragged on the explanation, “All over” he supplied quickly, earning a few turned heads, “We’re only responsible for ensuring the crates are safe and undiscovered until the next pick up. From there, each pilot has different instructions and directions”

Batman narrowed his eyes, “I want to see for myself” he said. Slade dipped his chin, “I expected as much, but seeing as how I am not only hosting my men but that of the Light’s, I’m hesitant to allow your brood free reign again” he crossed his arms, “Seeing as how your last reckless intervention caused a cave collapse, almost left a handful of soldiers dead, and in turn offered some very damaging consequences to my apprentice here” more heads turned to a still faced Dick, “Queen Bee was not pleased about the inconvenience, but it has been dealt with”

Bruce threw his shoulders back, “What will it be Wilson? Another inconvenience? Or will you permit us to see what you’re protecting without a fight?”

Slade narrowed his eye and cocked his head in a predatory manner. If it were someone less dangerous, it might have come off as considering. Kaldur stepped forward in support of Batman, but that encouraged an aggressive step forward from Eerie. Roy saw the movement and knocked his bow with a quick efficiency; followed soon after by Artemis. The group descended into tensed forms and grunted squabbles, but before Dick could intervene, Damian had grasped his bare wrist. His thin fingers clenched his skin tightly, pulling his glove down slightly.

Dick turned to Damian sharply, “What’s wrong, Dami?” Damian’s scowl melted like a hot flash and he did a double take, his lips parting in disbelief. Barbra glared, “Stop playing with him, Dick. it’s not nice”

Dick’s brow broke when he looked at her for the first time, “What? Babs, I-”

Tim stayed firm, “You know what she means” he snapped, “Don’t talk to him-to us- if you’re just gonna turn around and be a stranger again"

Dick’s lips twisted down, “I didn-”

“This isn’t fucking funny, Dick” Jason snapped, “I’m gonna put a hole in your head if you keep giving us this bipolar act”

Dick’s eyes softened and he nodded, “I’m sorry Jay,” he said quietly, “I know I’ve been a bit all over the place-”

“You’ve been absent” Tim snapped. Damian glowered in support, “Not just in the obvious ways. You’ve been literally MIA. Where have you and Deathstroke been while Ronan humors us on bs missions we aren't even sure are really sanctioned by the Light?”

Dick's lips twitched and his eyes, while softened, looked dissented and caught with emotion. Jason caught the way his back heel twitched just a hair as if he was resisting the urge to step back, “I thought that distancing myself from you guys in a way that would make the separation easier for you was the best way to go” Dick lifted a hand towards the top of Damian’s head but his features tightened and he changed course to card through his own dark locks. Damian spotted the intent either way. He briefly glanced over Jason’s shoulder, “And there was some other stuff that happened…” he shook his head and clenched his eyes briefly before he opened them without any of the increasing regret and grief, “But that's beside the point, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved”

Jason gaped and fought the urge to take a step back in disbelief. Dick was apologizing like he would've any other day. His tone was genuine and his eyes were sincere. He was apologizing just because Jason had expressed that he needed Dick to offer some sign of regret. It was like they were all back in High School again and Jason was sure the whiplash would kill him. Before anyone could speak, he stepped forward and slugged Dick as hard as he could. Damian dropped his wrist in surprise, but Dick didn’t budge an inch when Barbra gasped loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. Behind him, the aggressive conversing halted and slowed to a nothingness but Jason was past caring who saw, “You asshole! Stop being so fucking genuine! Either be an asshole or don’t” Jason snarled, “You ran away like a coward and then you’ve either ghosted us or been a shit brother since, and now you’re just…what? Fine?!”

Dick looked back up to Jason from where his head had snapped to the right. The corner of his lip was bloodied and his cheek was already darkening from the power of his enhanced brother. His eyes were soft and Jason was seconds away from punching him again for the way he gazed at him like he could do no wrong, like he was 16 again and Dick was his answer for everything. Grades, homework, emotions, sports bike engine upgrades; everything.

Dick disregarded the way his hulking brother was still tensed and heaving. He stepped forward and reached up, startling Jason to a wary stillness. Dick unclasped his red helmet with an ease that spoke of familiarity, and offered the helmet a knowing glance. He despised the fact that Dick knew he had a new helmet, he hated the attentiveness that Dick offered everyone like they were special to him in a way that all parents told their 5-year-old. It made Jason hopeful and he hated that he was reliant on Dick for validation and feelings of comfort, even now. He slipped the helmet off before he set it on the ground and looked back to Jason, “I really am sorry Jay. I thought giving you more than enough reasons to hate me was the way to go. We all know I’m dangerous. I need time to control myself; more than that” his gaze hardened for the first time, “I need to eliminate the threats that my past, my existence, poses to you guys and Bruce” Jason parted his lips to rebuke but Dick stepped forward and involved Jason in a hug, freezing the larger man. Jason was frozen in an upright tensed position so Dick had to lean upward slightly to wrap his arms around Jason’s shoulders. He still hugs me like he's the tallest one. He pulled him tight and tucked his face against Jason’s unmasked neck, regardless of any weapons they had prepped on each other. He breathed in heavily, like he was remembering the scent of Jason’s leather and laundry detergent, “I really am sorry, Jay. I’m trying to do better….for all of you”

Dick pulled away to look up at Jason’s starstruck pinched expression. Jason seemed to snap him out of his trance and he jerked, his hands reflexively coming up to hold Dick to him before it was too late. Dick smiled softly like he knew Jason’s exact intentions, but he didn't allow another embrace, extracting himself like he was doing it for Jason's benefit. He looked down at the stilled Tim and Damian with equally gentle features, “The same goes for you too” he repeated, mirroring the most emotionally competent parent in the world, “I’m sorry” he repeated, his words overflowing with intent and modesty. Jason hated him for it.

“Where have you been?” Tim asked thickly.

Damian’s eyes scoured Dick’s black-clad form as if to determine their worst fears written in the form of some injury or evidence of dirt. Dick shook his head but his eyes crinkled like that of someone who was preparing to humor a child, “You don't need to worry about that. I was re-centering myself. I haven't been doing well lately and I want to change that”

“That is the biggest understatement of the century, Richard” Damian said hotly.

Dick chuckled, “Now I think that is actually a big overstatement, Dami” Dick joked back.

Damian glared, “You claim to be doing this ridiculous masquerade and run around for us? Prove it, come home, and make me happy; then your goal will have been fulfilled” he snapped as blatantly and childishly as he could.

Dick seemed to find it both sad and amusing, “Soon, Dami” he promised, “This is all so that I can… in some way at least”

Tim’s eyes went wide, “Dick, the black list wasn’t Bru-”

“Apprentice”

Dick turned instantly to the sound of Slade’s voice. The man was watching Dick intently. Without a parting glance back at his brothers, Dick turned to make his way to Slade’s heel, dismissing Barbra’s call for him. Jason’s arm snapped out and caught Dick’s wrist, stopping him. Dick looked back at Jason but his brother was staring down Slade, challenging him to do something about it. Dick looked back to find’s Slade’s narrowed gaze on Jason as well. Feeling Dick’s attention back on him, his single steel grey eyes slowly slid over to Dick. His single eye held a dangerous curiosity, as if he wanted to see where this challenge would go, but had no reservations about the amount of bloodshed that might take place. Dick narrowed his eyes dangerously on the man and his eye grey blue iris seemed to quell, abated now that his bird was offering him his full attention once more. Dick looked back at Jason and slowly pulled his wrist free. Jason snapped his head to Dick with a growl, but Dick cocked his head and smiled slightly, “Let’s talk more later” he said. He pulled away completely and made his way to Slade’s side. The man laid a hand on the top of his dark locks and slowly slid down the back of his head and neck, squeezing his nape comfortingly before falling away completely. 

Slade took in the group of young adults surrounding him, “I see you care little for the safety of children in general, Wayne” he said while looking pointedly at a flushing Rose. She tried glaring, “Stuff it, Dad. I asked them to bring me”

He made a sound in the back of his throat, “I believe that entirely too well, but you are a 19-year-old. Common sense might beg to ask why your every whim is appeased”

Her lips thinned and she flipped her, now shorter, hair over her shoulder, “Worry about yourself” she snapped, “Every time I see Joey and Mom, I have to update them on your now doubled enemies”

Slade’s eye narrowed in return but before he could respond, Dick stepped forward and threw an arm over her shoulder. He leaned down and nudged her temple affectionately, “I know you’re upset, but let’s take a deep breath for now. We can get emotional when we’re safer and not in range of aerial drone strikes”

Rose’s eyes flashed upward in response and Dick chuckled, “I mean we’re fine now, but the next flight pick-up is due within the hour and every cargo hold is equipped sooooo.....”

“Enough” Bruce intervened. He seemed motivated to continue the conversation with Slade over Dick, “You’re going to let us down there to take stock of what Luthor has you handling”

Slade watched Batman with an unreadable expression before he finally dipped his head, “I did extend the invitation” he allowed, “But” he said, “You won’t be permitted to take anything as evidence, no matter how small. I don’t think I need to remind you of the consequences my men, and apprentice, face if the Light becomes displeased with my performance for them”

Batman’s lips thinned, but it was unclear if his gaze was deadset on the mercenary beneath his cowl. 

“And” Slade included with a hint of snide pleasure, “I can only allow so many of you down there”

“What?” Roy demanded, “Why?”

Slade offered an uninterested glance at the archer, “I don’t usually bring enough spare uniforms for the entire Young Justice team and their guests” Slade said bluntly. Roy’s lips twisted down, “Plus,” Slade said, “It’d be bad management to allow your rambunctious teenagers down there amongst my men, enemy soldiers, and dismantled computer parts”

During Slade’s finishing speech, Falcon was alerted to something. She turned her head slightly and placed a finger to her inner ear, “Copy” she said softly. When Slade finished she stepped up to Dick’s side, “Sir” she said, gaining his attention. He stepped away from Rose and bent down to Kris’ level. She spoke softly and he nodded, “Master,” he said levely. Every eye turned to Dick who now stood firmly as Renegade. His gaze firmer, his face smoothed of emotion, and his hands and feet clasped like any respectable soldier, “The next pick-up was just spotted, they’re early”

Slade nodded and turned to Batman, “So, Wayne….What will it be?”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Roy scanned the men around them as they followed Dick and Deathstroke through the center of their camp. Parallel to what Wally had reported, it was a mixture of men that were dressed like Dick and men that were dressed like some sort of, out out of place, corporate security. Batman had been right not to let them charge in because the camp was shadowed by the cliff's curve on one side of their bowl-shaped base, and the other was in clear view of the rest of the flat valley. The moment they crested the lip of the hill, they would've been spotted. Now though, they were inches from their enemy and the enemy was none the wiser.

Dick had sent Wildcard to retrieve uniforms for them, but the decision had been a difficult one. They could all feel Batman’s ire at having to discuss his plans and strategy with them in front of Deathstroke, but were glad that nothing had burst at the seams. Between Jason’s intentional efforts to rile their group up, Damian’s pompous attitude, and the rest of their team wanting to volunteer to head in under disguise, it had been almost a full 30 minutes of arguing. In the end, it was decided that all their female members should stay back as Falcon was the only woman amongst their base, and a new blonde or redhead, would draw attention. Damian was kept back because of his obvious youth and Batman had to begrudgingly admit that he was too broad and tall, just asking for looks, as he’d be the closest to Deathstroke in height and age. It had come down to Roy and Kaldur, but Kaldur had admitted his bleached hair might draw some looks as well, leaving the final co-op team down to Jason, Tim, and Roy. Damian had been furious and pointed out that Jason was nearly as tall as Bruce, but he was overridden because no one wanted to send in a team of 2 to the lion’s den. Wally was on standby at the lip of the hill in case he was needed within a second’s notice. 

Roy, Tim, and Jason were dressed similarly to Dick, Falcon, Eerie, and the others. They had been given long black and green compression shirts, dark cargo pants, boots, and a thin bulletproof vest. For the added safety, Bruce had insisted that they be given some type of mask as well, but it didn’t look too out of place as most men wore bandannas, or lower face masks to hide from the blaring sun and the dust that the occasional helicopter transport kicked up. Dick seemed to be the only one with a bare face, but that wasn’t saying much as he was sporting sunglasses like it was a sunny Saturday.

He strode casually beside Slade, but Roy couldn’t miss the attention they garnered simply by being present in the camp. It was easier to tell Slade’s men apart as they interacted with more ease, but they also offered the mercenary and Dick more of a formal greeting as well. The men who were suspected to be Luthor’s men all offered the same stunned looks of unease, stiff shoulders, and tight lips. Their group was tracked like mice in a shaven cord field, brutally and meticulously. Roy had to consciously maintain loose shoulders and keep his eyes from wandering in a way that would draw attention. He had to take note of everything they passed, take stock of the inventory they witnessed, and make sure not to look too interested or surprised along the way.

His gaze strayed to Jason and Tim in front of him and he felt envy brush his insides at their ease in performing. He knew that Batman had raised his Robins differently from the other sidekicks, but every now and then, their familiarity with certain responsibilities or behaviors still shocked Roy. The Dark Knight had been pounded into a verbal dust by civilian CPS, not to mention the backlash and criticism he earned from the parents and guardians in the Justice League when he first took on Dick. They’d been horrified to learn that not only did Batman take on a child sidekick, he’d taken on an 8-year-old one at that, but not long after Roy and Wally had been allowed to do more than practice their skills alongside this legendary sidekick. Jason managed to come off cool and relaxed despite the way his physique stuck out as a sore thumb, and his behavior seemed to help counteract that bluntness in a way though. Tim, on the other hand, seemed to be playing into his proximity to Deathstroke. He pursued the men and items around them with an eye and attitude that demanded more information and respect, not inquiry or scrutiny. 

The camp was set up circularly with large dug trails throughout. There were a handful of tents set up to accommodate everyone but Roy had heard that the men weren’t expected to be there longer than today, maybe tomorrow. Deathstroke led them to the right where larger tents were erected and more men seemed to be lazying about, almost on break. Despite their respite, each man stood up and offered a nod when passed, regardless of whether or not Dick and Slade acknowledged their presence and authority. Out of nowhere, a large, short beefy man emerged from the crowd around them and offered Deathstroke a digital pad, "Sir". The mercenary accepted it with little fanfare and scrolled down once, scanning the pages’ contents. He nodded and looked back, “Renegade”

“Yes, Master” Dick dipped his head and stepped away. Slade nodded, “We’ll meet after. I have a meeting with the Major”

Dick smirked, “Ok. Tell Billy, to add more olives to the chili next time”

Slade turned away, unaffected by Dick’s quips and sass. He handed the iPad back to the shorter man and began listing off things he wanted updates on. Dick looked behind and nodded past their group towards a less crowded area, “We’re going to go oversee the next shipment. Keep up”

Tim waited until they were mostly alone, “Is that what Slade was looking at?”

Dick nodded and offered Tim a smile, “Among other things. He just wanted to make sure the incoming pick-up wasn’t suspicious. They’re supposed to be on time, not their time”

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets, “So it’s all good? Luthor’s not double-crossing you?”

Dick shrugged, “Luthor has no reason to double-cross us” he chirped, “Slade has some other stuff to check on though, so he’s sending me as a threat basically. Any perceived slight against Deathstroke can’t be allowed”

Roy gaped, “Perceived threat? You just said Luthor isn’t crossing you guys?”

Dick nodded, “That’s not what I mean,” he said calmly. He led them beside another encampment of tents before they crossed past a section of stacked boxes, “The pilot being late shows a lack of respect and decorum. If it goes unacknowledged that means that Slade is letting it slide”

“And the old perv doesn't let anything go” Jason muttered. Dick didn't answer but he did huff a quiet laugh beneath his breath.

“Wait” Tim objected, “So you’re worried about the other members of the Light, right?”

The others, behind Dick, shared a knowing glance as Ra’s words concerning the internal instability of the Light were confirmed. Dick offered a smile back to Tim but he didn’t respond. Tim looked to Jason and Roy, “This is Luthor’s shipment, he wouldn't want it to be anything other than a success. He's borrowing you from Savage right? He's who actually pays you?”

Dick offered another vague smile as he led them past more and more rows of stacked boxes, “If you haven't noticed, Timmy, my finances have always been a bit taken care of for me” 

Jason laughed and slapped Dick on the back, “Nice to see that you’re aware of your sugar daddy lifestyle, Dickie”

Dick’s lips twisted playfully, “Bruce still has automatic pay-in-full set for your credit cards, Jay”

Jason stopped as a barking laugh burst from Roy. Tim giggled silently but his attention was more set on Dick and Jason. Roy watched him watch the pair of brothers and felt himself lose focus. He might’ve just witnessed the brothers laughing together for the first time in years. And it was in enemy territory while undercover, and outside North America, Fuck my life, Roy thought.

“Not all of us can have perfect credit scores, Goldenboy”

Dick gasped a mocking laugh. He placed a palm to his chest, “Jay! I’ll have you know I put a lot of effort into buying myself a pretty high credit score”

Tim couldn't contain the small laugh at that and Jason smirked back, knowing that Bruce had opened accounts and shares, and paid off all sorts of unused vehicles, bank accounts, and more, by the time his boys were 16, so that they’d have great credit scores for when they actually intended to finance million dollar things; for the million dollar lifestyle bruce had always envisioned for them. A small part of him was curious to know the more minor aspects of Dick’s life now. Did he ever get that street bike he and Bruce argued over? Did he have a credit card under his real name? Did Slade pay him? How much? Did he have his own room? Did he still snack on sugary cereal without milk?

It wasn’t long until they heard a distant thumping, drawing everyone’s attention upward. Dick didn’t look, “That’s them” he commented. Unnecessarily, Dick pushed back his sunglasses and tipped his head up, squinting against the sun, before he dropped his head again. Jason didn’t turn his head but strained his eyes to the right, confirming that Dick’s eyes weren’t baby blue. Dick passed their group, ruffling Tim’s hair as he passed, “Let’s go. This will be quick” he said, “I’ll give you a tour of the items before they’re boxed and shipped, but then we’ll need to head back to B”

Dick led them further down the same path to a clearing just outside the informal boundary of the camp. There were men, who looked to be from Luthor’s company, who were finishing the task of stacking boxes in a large organized pile. Dick went up to the closest man and reached for the crowbar in his hands without a glance or request for permission. He backed up a few paces and placed his hands behind his back, waiting for potential orders. Dick placed the crowbar against the lip of the crate and jerked down, cracking the lid up effortlessly. Without looking, he offered the metal rod back to the man and opened the box fully. He glanced back up, noting that the 2 manned helicopter was nearly ready to land. It had a large back with 2 propeller blades and a sleek black matt look. Dick looked back to the group, particularly Tim, and gestured with his hand invitingly. Tim smiled awkwardly before stepping forward while Jason and Roy stayed at his back.

“I’ll make sure everything is in order while you peruse,” Dick said lightly. He clapped a hand on Roy’s shoulder, loud enough to freeze the group of 3. Dick offered a charming smile, “Nothing should be missing when I get back” he reminded cheerfully. Roy didn’t respond but Tim nodded. He swallowed, “We won't take anything, Dick” he promised lowly.

Dick smiled and nodded before walking off. Roy rolled his shoulder with a frown, “He didn't have to play the meta card” he grumbled. They watched Dick walk a few paces north before calling over some of the men that had finished handling the crates and shipments. He was too far for most of them to hear when he started speaking, offering minimal gestures to certain men and the crates beyond their group, but that's where Jason's partially enhanced status came in handy, “He’s just giving orders for the rest of the day” Jason said back to their group. His helmet was turned towards Dick, “He wants at least 4 men stationed at the handoffs for the rest of the day” he repeated.

Tim nodded and pulled his eyes away from Dick, “As long as we know…” he said. He suddenly regretted speaking when he realized that his words had come off as one of distrust, similar to how Deathstroke or Luthor would deserve from them. It was an easily greyed topic as they could all agree that they couldn’t trust Dick but they would all hesitate to decisively say that as well. No one wanted it to be true, but he had turned into 1 large red flag with all the mixed signals he’d been sending over the last year or so. He'd avoided them, run away with Wilson, he tried stabbing Artemis, and he wasn’t honest with them about his meta status or new team-acting as shady and as secretive as ever... But he’d protected his brothers a handful of times now, he’d apologized for his behavior, and he’d never raised a direct hand against his siblings…Bruce apparently wasn't the only one sending obvious signs of indecisive miscommunication.

“It’s ok,” Jason said, understanding what Tim meant. He stepped forward to stand at Tim’s side and looked into the packaged crate, “What do we have here, replacement?”

Tim forced his attention elsewhere and heaved a deep sigh, “I wish I’d brought some other tech” he admitted. He’d been too cautious to smuggle video or audio into his borrowed uniforms with Dick standing so close.

“I got you,” Roy said under his breath. He slowly reached back and scratched the nape of his neck. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, bending them back so his elbows pointed to the sky, “Damn, long day” he said louder. Just as he finished yawning in a grunt-ish, brutish kind of way a quick small snap made itself known, almost like someone had stepped on a twig. Roy dropped his hands and smacked his lips. A few seconds later, Roy’s gloved hands prodded Tim’s at his side and passed him the tip of a broken-off arrow. It was a brittle tip, and not as durable as most of Green Arrow’s batch, but on the bottom side of the small silver arrowhead was a small flat device with a green light.

Tim nodded but his eyes gleamed, “Awesome” he breathed, “Audio? Video?”

“Everything, but the quality is shit”, Roy said. Tim nodded, “Better than nothing”

Tim slipped the arrowhead up between his index finger and pointer finger before placing it below his chin like he was in thought, studying the crate’s contents, “There’s a lot” he said under his breath. He reached out with one hand and selected a plastic-wrapped motherboard. He brought it up just beneath his chin, “These are large” he said, “Made for the supercomputers that NASA has. And these” he reached for long thing pieces of computer hardwiring, “These are almost always for the rockets they send up because they need to fit stuff into strange slots and at weird angles”

“But this shit can’t be for NASA,” Roy said. He trailed off in a question and Tim nodded, “It’s too easy to speculate what they’d need oversized hard drives and motherboards for, but these” he said, waving the long thing piece, “These could only be for a few things”

“Like?” Roy demanded when Tim trailed off. Tim glared but Jason answered, “Dude, use your fuckin head. What weirdly shaped electronic would be used for something besides a computer?”

“What like a weapon? A robot?”

Basically” Tim confirmed, “A missile, a bomb, a robot, something that means trouble no matter what it turns out to be”

“Shit” Roy muttered. He scanned the open box before them as Tim flipped over a few hard drives and tried to examine them with his chin and fingers as best he could. Something stuffed in the corner caught his attention, “What’s the little baggie?” he asked, jerking his chin. Behind them, in line with Dick’s positioning, they heard the wind pick up and the blades grow louder, warping the air for a few minutes. Dust was kicked up in their direction but the three of them were focused on the items before them. Tim caught sight of it too and pulled up a small bag of cushioned microchips, about the size of someone’s thumb. They stared at it for a while before Tim frowned and Jason turned to him, “You don’t think-”

“What else could it be?”

“We need to take this”

“We can’t, they’ll know and Dick is at risk if anything goes wrong from now on”

“What the fuck are you guys going on about?” Roy asked.

“Remember that research we found at Queen Bee’s base?” 

“Yea?”

“Dude” Jason snapped, “This is it. The shit we found about those Kryptonian amphibians and their blood? The microchips-the rich assholes that Luthor and the Light keep meeting with...”

Roy’s eyes widened, “These are how they’re gonna control people? But” he fingered a chip through its plastic covering, “It-it’s so small and-well it looks like a flash drive, not something that could control people”

“Exactly” Tim pointed out, “It’s small. Small enough to hide on a person and smuggle into some very protected places. God, the effort that these chips must take. There's no way they’re factory-made. There's too much detail packed into these”

“They’re not trying to hide them very well,” Roy said, “If they’re packed in with everything else. Maybe they're just prototypes-” Roy abruptly cut off, “They are” he realized out loud.

“What?” Jason demanded.

“You think they could be more covert than this?” Tim asked. Roy nodded, “We’re being played,” he said suddenly quieter, “Ra’s confirmed with your old man that the Light's already aware of some stuff, and now they think that we're following Deathstroke and Dick, because of the caves”

“Which we are” Jason rebutted.

“We’re being played” Roy insisted, “They want us to take some evidence and act first. They're forcing our hand by offering up all this shit as evidence”

“That’s why Luthor is borrowing Slade and Dick from Savage,” Jason said. her frowned, "That fucker, Wilson has to know or suspect he's being used, and he's still playing dumb". Tim bit his lip, “We need to sure up our defenses. They have more than just meta users on their side. They have magic too-like Klarion” he said. He looked at Jason, “We need to check back in with A and make sure the manor and the cave are protected and then we need to have B do a sweep of all of our items”

“You think we’re being spied on?”

Tim motioned to his fingers where they were spying on the enemy, “It’s really not that hard, dude”

Jason’s shoulders tensed but his bright red helmet nodded, “Fine. We finish up here and show this to B and then-”

A shout and a scuffled grunt caught their group off guard. They turned to see a flailing man collapsing backward while Dick’s hand was fisted in the front of his collar, choking him. Dick was walking the man back quickly and roughly, giving him very little time to pick up his own feet. He was dressed in Luthor’s security uniform and had dark brown shaggy hair to match his plain brown eyes. He was tan and tall, but nothing uniquely intimidating about him stood out, especially compared to Dick’s hulking form, and contrasting features. They didn't have to walk far before Dick thrust his arm forward and slammed the man’s back and head against the metal of the cooling helicopter. Tim jerked in surprise as they watched Dick manhandle the poor guy. Around them, Slade’s men watched calmly, while the secondary aid to Luthor’s pilot stood tensed and waiting. Dick leaned in until his sunglasses were pressed against the cornered man’s temple. He must have said something severe because the man’s throat bobbed and he rapidly nodded his head.

Dick held him there for a handful of minutes longer while everyone else watched. The man’s eyes had closed in fear but his lips stopped moving in an under-the-breath silent prayer, “Is he unconscious?” Roy asked.

“Dead,” Jason said as if he was placing a bet.

Tim gaped and elbowed both of them. He took a step forward, “Di-Uh…” All eyes jutted towards him and Dick craned his neck backward to offer Tim his attention, “Renegade?” Tim said, uncertain as to how Dick was addressed in their soldier-like hierarchy. He wasn't about to blow Dick's cover over some grunt that Luthor had hired, but he found himself at a loss for words, “I think he stopped moving”

Dick looked back to the man who was almost melded to the outer metal of the aircraft at this point. Dick gave him a cursory glance before removing his hand slightly, maintaining enough pressure to force the brunette back. The man didn’t move or speak and Dick sighed in exasperation. He slapped the man’s cheek once, twice, and the man jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. He blinked a few times before his eyes widened dramatically, and he seemed to lurch forward, his gaze searching for Dick instantaneously. Dick caught him in the same position again and the man choked. As if Tim hadn’t just witnessed the entire debacle for himself, Dick craned his neck back to them, “He’s fine” he called casually.

Another minute passed before Dick turned to the man beside him, “Time?” he asked.

The soldier looked baffled but turned his wrist over to a simple 24-hour watch, “11, Sir”

Dick nodded and released the man. He stepped away fluidly and with a quickness that startled the trapped pilot. His knees tried to buckle before his partner caught his arm, steadying him, “Now we’re on schedule” Dick said in a suddenly appeased manner. He circled a hand above his head and whistled, “Begin load up”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

The moment they were back within their team’s embrace, Dick gave them a knowing smile, having escorted them back, “Go on. Debrief” he encouraged, “I know you saw a lot with just those few minutes TImmy”

Tim looked at Dick uncertainly, “I-” he glanced at Bruce. Batman was watching Dick with a narrow focus. Dick took a step back and raised his hands, “I get it, I get it. Only got myself to blame” he chuckled. He placed his hands in his pockets and twisted around, “I’ll be back in 30. Got to check on the last few shipments” he called.

They all watch Dick retreat before turning on the three young men, “Well?” Damian demanded.

Tim ignored the youngest Robin, “It's there and it’s too obvious” Tim blurted out in a whisper. Jason nodded and Batman’s lips thinned, “Explain”

Tim explained their theory on what the cybernetics pieces and the computer motherboard chips might be used for before adding their worst finding; the microchips. Roy interjected his theory that if Tim was right, and the microchips they found were what the Light was intending to use on large figureheads before moving onto the greater population, then they were being played or set up in some way. Jason agreed, “They’re trying to either catch Deathstroke in the act of betraying the Light, or they’re trying to confirm what we know. They want us to take pictures or steal one for evidence-”

“Did you?” Barbra asked.

Tim shook his head, “We've got recordings of the box to review later but the way they're taunting us gives me a bad feeling” Tim admitted.

"They're too certain that we'd be here," Batman said. Tim nodded.

Bruce nodded, “We’re being spied on,” he concluded. Tim nodded and Jason growled, “How the fuck does he do that?”

Nobody answered.

“As soon as we get back onto the ship, nobody is to discuss anything that would be considered confidential” Batman scanned the young adults around him, waiting until he received a nod from each one, “I’ll send word to Agent A to sweep the manor and the Cave, but the way they are offering up clues to their operations aligns too perfectly for us. I need to discuss this with Superman and Wonder Woman as well. The entirety of the Justice League needs to be overly vigilant if these chips are already out there”

“Especially after Deathstroke and Dick kind of got in trouble for the Cave incident” Tim added. Batman nodded, “We can’t risk your brother” he reaffirmed.

Artemis looked behind them again and scanned their backs. Wally seemed to catch on, “If we can’t talk on board then this is our only chance to debrief,” he said. Batman didn’t verbally agree but turned to Tim and Jason, “What happened?”

Roy crossed his arms as the brothers took over explaining, “Pretty much what we went over already”

Tim responded, “But Richard” Damian emphasized.

Jason glowered at the kid, “You saw him, brat. He’s fine”

“More than fine” Roy mumbled.

“Why do you say that?” Kaldur asked. More than half the group looked to Roy for more and the redhead dropped his crossed arms, realizing he was expected to answer. He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, “He’s fine is all. We saw all just saw him” he pointed to where Dick had hopped over the lip of the grassy cliff almost an hour ago.

Batman stepped closer, “I don’t care how close you think you are to Nightwing. You will not hold back any details” he snapped.

Roy glared, prepared to argue that Jason and Tim hadn’t volunteered extra information on Dick either. Rose crossed her arms, “It just bothered you didn’t it” she guessed. Batman offered her a glance but looked to Roy, intent on making him fall in line.

Roy looked between the two and shrugged, looking away, “Basically” he admitted, “I know we’ve seen him…different this whole time, but it’s different to see him with people that aren’t us-that are supposed to be the enemies. And they just obeyed him! He had all these guys-Luthor’s too, scared shitless and gah-” he made a motion to convey his discombobulated thoughts, “It’s fine-he’s different-it’s nothing new”

Tim looked at Rose and Batman, “Actually there is. Dick is definitely jumping on and off the cryo liquid. I think he uses the powder we found in his bag every now and then”

“Did he exhibit something to you?” Batman inquired.

Tim shook his head, “Not at us, I mean he did put a soldier in his place, and almost dented a helicopter, but he was fine... really. He seemed more normal than ever actually” he looked to Jason for support and the skunk haired adult nodded, “But” Tim looked back to Batman, “I saw his eyes a little and they weren’t blue. I know we started to associate his change in eye color based on emotions before all this, but I think it’s just more associated with the build-up of Electrum in general. He seems fine and his eyes aren't in line with that”

"Dickhead's always been a good-ass actor," Jason said.

“Not to be counterproductive” Artemis interjected, “But why does this matter? It’s not like we can force him to stop drugging himself, and for now….I mean isn't the self-medicating good? It kind of tamps him down a little, right? Not including the Justice League, the only meta we have that can talk him head-on is Connor or Kaldur”

Wally looked like he wanted to object. Batman nodded, “That’s true to an extent, but Nightwing is our priority while we slowly subdue the Light. Any information about his altered biology and mental state is crucial to us. We’ll need all the information we can gather to help Dick master his body and mind after this ordeal is over”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

When Slade and Dick had returned, sans his 3 underlings, Slade had offered a few remarks, “I’m confident your replacement birds were able to acquire enough information, with the copious about of time my apprentice allowed them, before the scheduled shipment” 

Batman didn’t respond, but Slade didn't expect any thanks, “Keep your channels open” was all Slade said. He turned on his heel and began to make his way back down to the base. The last handful of shipments had come and gone on time, especially after the last pilot radioed that no one was to be late or early while they were working on Deathstroke the Terminator's schedule. Slade’s and Luthor’s men were due to see off one last shipment before they were disbanded. Luthor’s men would hitch a ride on the last and largest aircraft carrier and Slade’s men would depart to different stationed base facilities in the region; Slade, Dick, and his private team would set off for elsewhere and recoup.

Dick watched his master for a second before he turned and caught Rose’s attention. He guided her over to the side of the clearing and leaned in, “Hey, we’re gonna go back home, if you catch my drift. Do you want to pay an extra visit to your aunts? I’m sure Kai would love to see you after what happened”

Rose nodded, “Yeah, I bet he felt awful after those guys dragged me away” She shrugged and smiled, “Sure, why not? It’ll be fun and have everyone meet”

Dick’s eyes narrowed a hair’s breadth, “Rose, I don’t mean the team” he said with a glance over his shoulder. He locked eyes with his brothers when he saw they were already watching his private conversation. Dick turned back to Rose but she was already speaking over him, “Why? They’re not dangerous-they’re so family Dick. I've known Jason almost as long as you”

Dick didn’t refute her and dipped his head like he was struggling to find the right words. He felt like an adult forced to confront a mature topic with a child, “I didn’t say they were” he finally said, “But your family is remote, and they haven't tried to move to any of the nearby cities for a reason. This will expose them more than I think they’d want. Sure they might be nice about it, but they might regret it in the long run”

“They're heroes, Dick, like you” Dick frowned at her as his patience started to wean, “You’re thinking of your own wants Rose” she glared, “Don't get me wrong. I wanted all my friends and teammates to know each other when I was a kid too. It comes from having an unstable upbringing, you want larger connected family relations, but this is not how to do it”

Rose glared and leaned against one hip, “Oh really? You seem to know a lot about what I should have considering we were raised the same”

Dick blinked, “Rose, I grew up in the circu-”

“No, you didn’t" she snapped. Dick halted, “You were born into a family of gymnasts and you spent your early years like that. I’ll give you that” she poked him in the chest, “But you were raised rich” she pointed out, “From 8 to even now” she looked like she wanted to turn to where her father had been moments before, “You’ve had wealth at your fingertips for years. We both lost important people and then we were raised with everything at our fingertips-but also nothing we really wanted” she added with slightly less fire behind her words, “And you’re not that much older than me” she pointed out.

Dick’s brow was deeply indented, but he took a deep breath through his nose before replying, “You’re mad.... and have been through a lot recently” he acknowledged, “But we did not lose the same thing” he said with an edge that stopped Rose from interrupting again, “I was born into the lowest earning percentile there was and to an immigrant family on top of that. My entire family died in front of me and then I spent the next 4 months in Gotham's Juvie, barely knowing any English. You know the rest from there and we both know Bruce adopti-taking me in as his ward didn’t solve all my problems” he pulled back, realizing he’d leaned into her face too severely, “I never want to disparage someone’s feelings or invalidate their experiences, Rose, especially yours…but you lost your brother, your family is still here, still present and accessible. You still have even more blood family to go back to in your home country” Dick’s arm shot out to the left as if a desolate Romani settlement would appear before them. Rose looked Dick in the face, realizing she’d pushed a tad too far with her claims of similarity. She'd never heard Dick stress his victimization before...it was a strange display to witness.

“Dick, I-”

He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. He gripped his neck and squeezed as if he could force the tension out from the backs of his shoulder blades, “You know what” he said almost to himself, “I'm probably overreacting” he dropped his arms and Rose saw that his walls were up in place again, helping to seal the cracks and chips with his pleasant smile, “I’ll tell your dad your plan, and that we might expect you. He’ll be pissed but we’ll deal with that later. There are some boundaries that will have to be set, but think long and hard about the type of exposure you’re offering your aunties and cousins by bringing them. This isn’t just me and your dad.... this is the original Young Justice team, my brothers, and a founding member of the Justice League” 

Dick turned abruptly on his heel and walked away, pointedly looking past where his brothers stood in an obvious cluster; trying to determine what he and Rose had been going at. He brushed past the rest and pointedly kept his face turned forward when he passed Wally and Roy, “Good to see ya’ Babs” he said simply. Rose watched Dick stride away, his sunglasses bouncing beneath every heavy footfall. It didn't take long for the group of heroes to cluster around her, “Sooooo” Jason said, “Looks like we can all mark ‘pissed Dickie off’ on our bingo cards”

Rose glared, feeling embarrassment thrum through her. She’d prove Dick wrong. His brothers and teammates were his community less than a few years ago. They were his everything and if it came to life or death she knew he’d prove that they were still his everything. She turned sharply and placed her hands on her hips, “We’re gonna go meet my aunties!”

Chapter 24

Notes:

Hey!

I tried to send this out sooner than last ch. Sorry about any of this being wrong or poorly translated. This is all off Google so I'm counting on a lot to be inaccurate in all reality.

 

 

“You've got so much fucking family” Jason grumbled. She glared at him, “It’s not my fault! They’re awesome, they’ll love you guys” She looked at Tim, “They love smart boys” she looked at Damian, “And they looove so spoil all the kids in the village” She sneered at Jason, “But they’ll hate you. I’ll tell them you're a Westerner who dyes his hair to look cool”

Jason gaped before his head dropped back in aggravation, “Why the fuck are we going?” he asked out loud.

“Rob is going,” Wally said as if it wasn't obvious.

“It’s obvious this is some sort of safe haven or rest stop for them,” Batman said, “In case relations ever turn bad in our current deal, we’ll need to know where this is and form good relationships with this village, in case we need to track them down”

They were trying to speak as vaguely as possible. Batman had ordered them to speak as if they were being miked and recorded. Anything that would offer the enemy an advantage was off-limits. Tim had already sent a message to Agent A asking him to spring clean upstairs and downstairs. It was July. Agent A responded back that the basement was clean and he was working his way up from there. Jason had coined the cave the basement when he got to the age where every teen thought that using synonyms would be enough to pull the wool over their guardian’s eyes. For some reason, Jason thought it would be enough to not only fool Bruce Wayne, the professional playboy, but also Batman the world’s greatest detective. He gave up on trying to make his late-night escapades subtle the first few times Bruce waited up for him and Roy. To Bruce’s aggravation, for Jason’s 15th birthday, Tim had business cards made that said I plead the 5th. Jason went through his first handful of those in less than 5 months.

They were prepared to face backlash when they landed as they were acting out of the informal boundaries of their verbal contract to follow Slade into his personal element. The man hadn't sought any retribution when they tracked him and Dick to an outdated red cross base without an invite, but Batman knew that the man’s petty desires for vengeance and revenge were due at some point. Rose had tried to play it off, “This is my family” she reassured, “My aunties love everyone, and you're my friends so it won’t be an issue”

“Your father will not see this as a welcome invite” Batman reminded her. he was still upset that she had tagged along under false pretenses.

She shrugged, “Yea, but we come here to relax all the time and I haven't seen Dick in a while. He and Dad have been hella busy. Besides, I’m inviting you to my mother’s village. Dad can’t say shit because they barely tolerate him as it is”

Batman pulled back because he was more invested in seeing this safe haven that Dick and Slade frequented. They’d been relatively close to the village when Dick had lost control of himself and tried to murder Gao in a previous mission, but Rose hadn’t wanted to go with her father and Slade hadn’t wanted to take Dick to the village in the state he was. 

“How long since you've been back home?” Artemis asked.

Rose shrugged, “It’s not really home, but I don’t have another word for it. It feels weird when we stay longer than a week or two. It’s been…I dunno 3 months? Since I was back at least. I don't know about my dad, but he rarely goes without me. Like I said” she boasted, “They hate him”

“But he does come here without you? To hide?” Batman persisted.

Rose nodded, “He wouldn't word it like that, but yeah. My aunties and cousins live off the grid, about a day’s walk to the nearest city with electricity, so it’s remote and hidden, but not inconveniently so”

Wally cackled, “I can just imagine Slade being hated on by all these old tanned women” Damian smirked, enjoying the image of Slade having to make do with Rose’s vengeful aunts.

Rose laughed and shook her head, “No, no, it’s not that bad. He never goes without Dick anyway. They love him there, always calling him my brother and stuff. They always like to remind Dad that his kids turned out better than him”

Roy leaned back in his seat, “They know about Grant and Joey, right?”

She nodded, “Yea, but since Joey isn't related, he’s only visited like twice I think” She tried remembering, “To them, it feels like I’m an only child and Dick is like that adopted tag-along that they like”

Kaldur looked down at Tim’s displayed laptop, “We’re almost there”

Wally leaned over and gleaned at the screen, “24-”

Kaldur cut him off, “Best not to read our coordinates aloud, my friend” Wally flushed but nodded.

They landed soon enough and exited, “I don’t know where Dad and Dick landed but the village is over here” She started stamping through the thick palm fronds and underbrush of the jungle before them. Batman let the young adults follow before taking up the rear.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“cháu gái!” a multitude of voices cried out. 5 women crowed happily and descended upon Rose with adoration plastered against their faces. The village was larger and more spread out than expected. There was a simple 4-foot bamboo fence surrounding the village, ending at a lake that was rooted at the very back. There was a gap in the fence that offered about a 5-foot gap as a stand-in entranceway. There were brick and leaf huts and houses erected all over with firepits placed sporadically between them. The group stood back as Rose beamed, “Cô!” Rose exclaimed happily. She threw her arms around the nearest woman, nearly dwarfing the shorter tanned woman.

“Cưng!” They hooted and cooed sweetly. Wrinkled and dusty hands reached for Rose in a flurry of grins, pinching her cheeks, feeling her fine white hair, caressing her shoulders and arms. Rose took turns embracing each one joyously. After a handful of minutes, she managed to pull away, “Aunties, these are my friends” She pointed at the group of strangers dressed in yellow, black, red, and green. She leaned in, “They’re superheroes” she whispered with an excited edge to her voice.

The women’s eyes went wide and they nodded, speaking in Vietnamese, “Like Chim cổ đỏ!” the tallest woman grinned. Rose nodded, “Yes!” She pointed at Damian, Jason, and Tim, “These are his brothers actually”

The woman looked at the dark-haired boys and nodded, 

 

“Such handsome young men”

“Strong dark hair and jaw”
“Good son and husband in the future”

 

Damian blushed furiously as they rattled off attributes and gazed at the boys like sweet grandmothers. Eventually another woman, slightly shorter than Rose spoke up, “Come! Come we will eat” she gestured to the group and began to make their way back inside the village fence, "Tell us how you've been, dear Rose"

The group stood awkwardly until Rose rolled her eyes, “Come on” she urged. Barbra and Artemis took the first few steps and they progressed after that, making their way inside, “That’s my aunt Nyi” Rose pointed at the women who had invited them in, “She’s not the oldest villager but she’s basically in charge because everyone else is too old, if you know what I mean. She was my mom’s big sister”

Artemis and Barbra nodded, asking more about her aunts and cousins, “They’re all a little older than me because my mom only had me and she had me later than most women typically have kids, but I do have a little cousin” she gazed around as they took seats around a particularly large fire pit, “Where is Kai?” she wondered. She stopped an older man as he passed and asked him something in Vietnamese. She turned back to the group and rolled her eyes, “He’s with Dick” she said like it was laughably predictable, “He’s got such a crush on Dick” she laughed, “Not really” she calmed as everyone gazed as her strangely, “But he’s stuck to Dick’s side like sap whenever he and my Dad visit. He thinks Dick is just the coolest”

Jason crackled his knuckles, “I’ll set the kid right, Dick is like 5th in line if we’re ranked by cool” 

Tim looked dumbfounded, “There’s 4 of us Jason”

“Exactly,” he said, “Goldenboy is such a nerd, or a softy. Doesn't matter”

“Oh, and you think a child will find a failed drug lord any cooler?” Damian jeered.

Jason narrowed his eyes, “I swear to God if you saw Hood’s tax returns, you wouldn't be saying that. I make a profit, brat”

“You don’t do your taxes!” Damian argued causing Roy to burst out laughing.

Wally turned to Rose, “Should we go get Dick? Or-?”

She nodded, “I think I know where they are, “I’ll bring them back. My dad is probably hiding away in one of the further houses, but I don’t want to deal with his attitude right now”

Wally smirked at her tone when she pushed to her feet and sauntered off to their left. Tim leaned it to Batman, “What are we really doing here Bruce? It would be enough to have Rose give us the coordinates and save them in case we ever needed to come back here to check for Dick or something…why did we actually come? What are you hoping we accomplish here?”

Bruce offered Tim a sideways look and Tim smirked, “You’ve got Damian and Jason fooled, but I know there’s something else going on. We didn’t have to come and that means you chose to agree like we had no other option but to vet these villagers when we both know they aren't a threat. I mean seriously, it sounds like Rose was their only and last line of defense”

Batman had refused to sit down with the rest of their group, but offered Tim a glance. He crossed his arms, “I was being truthful…earlier” he said, “Every bit of information we have on Dick will help us help him later”

Tim looked at Bruce in bewilderment, “You think meeting Rose’s aunties” he put in air quotes, "Will help us understand Dick more?”

Bruce’s uniform tightened around his forearms and biceps but he stayed still for the most part, “I don’t think it will help us understand why he chose Wilson, but this is a piece of Dick that we wouldn't have been aware of. We wouldn't have ever known that he came to this rural village. It only has importance and meaning to 2 other people. This is how your brother has been living while we were separated. Places like this are where Deathstroke has been isolating Dick, where-” he dropped his arms as they heard footsteps approaching in the gravel between the huts and houses to their left, “I missed 5 years of your brother’s life and I don’t intend to be kept unaware of anymore”

Some of the Young Justice team members stood as they heard the footsteps approach as well. Tim looked at Bruce, “You heard Rose” he said, “Dick didn’t choose Slade. He chose us…at least, he thinks he’s choosing us with this whole messy scheme of his”

Bruce made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat and Tim scoffed as if Bruce’s resistance to any logic, besides his own, was both habitually comforting and repetitively annoying at the same time. If there was one thing the detective could be counted on, it was to push his own mentality and methods until all other technicalities, ideas, or opinions were moot and invalid. Their minimal side conversation came to an end as Dick re-entered the small clearing with Rose and a small dark-haired boy at his side. Dick was dressed in his cargo pants from earlier and now wore a smile black tank top. His sunglasses rested atop his dark locks and his eyes appeared to be clear and blue at the moment. What was unexpected were the face paintings and markings.

Dick’s cheeks and chin were coated in thin red lines almost like strange cat whiskers. His forehead held a splatter of the same color and his bottom lip was coated in something much darker, almost black. The paint was scrawled and messy, obviously hand-drawn by someone either too old or too young to maintain a steady hand.

“Look, Rose!” the young boy pointed up at Dick’s face, “Chim cổ đỏ let me practice on him”

Rose offered a warm humoring smile, “I see”

Dick smiled slightly and shrugged, “It’s better than last time,” he said. 

“Kai, why don’t you go help the others in the kitchen, we’ve got a lot more mouths to feed tonight”

Kair ignored Rose’s instructions and gazed around the firepit in excitement. His eyes landed on Bruce, “Batman!” he cried out. His face was too stunned to let his fear or amazement through, and he ended up blatantly pointing at the Dark Knight. Jason snickered, “He’s not that cool,” he said, “The awe fades fast”

Kai looked to Jason before his attention caught on Damian, “You’re Jason!” he said with a knowing tone. Damian jerked, offended, “I am not” he spat.

Kai looked confused before he turned to Dick, “But-” Dick caught him off and leaned down, placing a hand on his shoulder. The tips of Dick’s fingers were also coated in paint, like each had been dipped just past the nail bed, “That’s Dami, I’ve told you about him”

Kai’s brow furrowed, “You said Jason was Robin after you”

Dick nodded, “I did, but think about the timeline, Kai. That was a while ago” he pointed to Jason, “Redhood was the second Robin, Redrobin was the third, and now we have our current Robin” Dick went down the line of brothers, pointing them out amongst the group of young adults.

Kai still looked uncertain but Rose spoke again, “You can meet everyone later, now go help in the kitchen”

Kai ignored her, “Wait, so when did you stop being Rob-”

“Kai” Dick’s voice was suddenly sharp and edged no room for rebuke. Kai’s head dipped and he glanced at Rose, “Sorry” he turned with another word and jogged to another larger brick building. It was circular and held the majority of smoke and work being produced from the village. Dick watched him go and shook his head in exasperation, “That kid” he muttered. He sauntered closer to the group and let his butt drop onto a stump. He sat with a surprising ease between Damian and Wally, encouraging everyone else to sit again.

“Who was that?” Damian demanded. 

Rose offered Damian a strange look, “Kai” she said as if it was obvious.

Dick leaned forward and cracked his back, “That’s Rose’s cousin. He’s the youngest kid in the village right now, so he either gets too much attention or not enough” 

“Why? You jealous?” Jaason gged Damian on. Damian glowered menacingly but Dick interrupted and threw an arm over Damian’s shoulder, “Awww, Dami, you’ll always be my baby bird. You're my Robin”

Damian was quick to object, sucking and squirming against Dick’s broad arm, “Richard! I am a legal adult! I demand you cease these childish behaviors!”

Jason smirked and leaned back against his own stump as he watched Damian put on a superficial display. He knew the kid was too pleased with Dick’s sweet coos to actually have an issue with his touches and fawning gestures. If he really wanted to be free of Dick, the kid would’ve been halfway across the clearing already. His eyes found Barbra across their small circle and he noticed the way her lips were thinned, similar to how she looked when she told Dick off for playing with his brother’s feelings not long ago. Jason watched her, feeling the disquiet tension beneath her dark purple uniform. He found himself speaking before he realized it, hoping to keep Barbra from voicing her obvious displeasure. He knew she had heard nothing but the bad from them all, so moving forward would be difficult. She and Dick had been Batman’s only proteges for a handful of years and had spent their childhood in school together. But Barbra’s presence in the cave and at home, while the rest of them spent time out in the field and interacting Dick, had left her at a disadvantage. Jason knew she was struggling with her instinctual reactions to treat Dick like a brother-turned-villain. She’d heard nothing but how he’d become a cruel stranger-Deathstroke’s lapdog, often displaying polar opinions and behaviors by verbalizing hurtful words and then physically shielding them from a cave collapse. She’d most likely come into the field with a predetermined notion that she’d have to steel herself against the stranger wearing her friend’s face, only to find Dick just as he started to change his tune: apologizing to them, offering hugs and touches without a care of concern for who saw. It was a far cry's difference from how he acted before. Pulling away from them, avoiding eye contact, barring his teeth like some predator…the only difference Jason was able to spot was Dick’s respect and deference for Slade’s authority over him-an authority that was only in place because Dick allowed it so.

“So where’s the old perv?” Jason asked casually. Dick looked over from where he'd won his superficial battle with Damian, his right arm claiming the rights to Damian’s neck and shoulder. Dick smirked slightly, “He’s in the back, avoiding you all”

Rose rolled her eyes, “I told you” she said annoyed, “My dad knows he can't start a fight here and he’s not gonna get over himself anytime soon”

Dick offered her a knowing look, “Don’t act like you don’t understand the consequences of inviting the team here. It’s off-grid for a reason-”

“Ăn cơm thôi!” a voice called from inside the kitchens. Rose clapped her hands, “That was fast! Food’s ready!” she beamed, “I’m starving”

The women and children that had been helping in the circular food hut started to join the rest of the group around the fire pit, forcing the group to slowly expand their circle to fit the newcomers and platters of steaming food.

“What’s all this?” Wally asked Dick, gesturing to his painted face and fingers. Dick raised a hand to his cheek before realization registered, “Oh, this is just me humoring Kai. He wanted to practice on me” he chuckled.

“You let the kid finger-paint you for fun?” Roy snarked, “I gotta admit, Dick. I thought Damian was the lowest you would go”

Damian growled, but Dick laughed and shook his head, “No, no, it’s not just finger painting” he shrugged, “I mean technically, you use your fingers but the markings are for warriors returning home. A long time ago when there was still a lot of tribal aggression fueling this area, the surviving warriors got to walk around with face paint to prove they’d survived and defended their village”

Rose returned to her seat, “Yea, it’s just a bunch of symbolic BS nowadays” she said, “But my grannies and aunties love doing it for me and Dick, but knowing how to do it is just as important. It's an honor for the giving and receiving party”

“I can’t imagine Slade sitting for face painting time” Wally snickered. Dick nodded, “You don’t have to. None of the village would give him that honor”

Jason smirked and Tim cocked his head, “They hate your dad that much?” he asked Rose, “Not that he doesn't deserve it”

Rose nodded yea, “Yeah, they’ll basically never forgive him for knocking my mom up and then not fixing all their problems for the rest of eternity. Their way of being nice to him is letting him come back every now and then”

Artemis laughed, “I wish my dad would have to experience that for a whole 24 hours. God, my mom’s mom would bitch him so hard”

Wally laughed and sent a dangerous look to the others, warning them to temper their wide cautious looks. He knew his girlfriend was great at masking her instincts and emotions, but that often meant that most people forgot she was raised by Slade’s Wilson’s non-immortal double. The man was just as cruel but without a Dick, Rose, or Joey to temper his actions….barely. As more extended family began to find their place amongst their informal firepit arrangement, Dick and Rose began introducing everyone. Kaldur’s polarizing complexion was a topic of large intrigue for most people and he humored them by letting them touch his bleached, buzzed hair, insisting that he truly was born under the water and that he didn't dye it.

Artemis and Roy were challenged by man young men as soon as it was revealed that they were warrior archers. The Bats, as a whole, garnered questions and looks or interest as everyone knew who Batman and Robin were, but to see all the Robins together again in different states of grown-up was something that most people couldn't help but watch, murmuring to each other under their breath and in different languages. Dick’s eyes were blue and bright against the heightened flames of the cooking fire, but Tim had trouble believing what he was seeing. He grinned and leaned in, speaking broken half sentences in other languages and pointing at Jason, Tim, and Damian. The young men and boys were looking back and forth, nodding excitedly. Damian was doing his best to determine what was being conveyed but wasn’t as versed in every language as he’d claimed, “What are you saying? Richard?!”

Dick smiled and leaned back onto the dirt, “They just want to know if you guys have seen real battles-real fights”

Damian looked affronted and turned on the boys, “Of course I have!” he retorted in English. The boys grinned in response and their eyes lit up. Dick shrugged, “Well if that’s the case, you guys are due for some of these as well” Dick wiggled his painted fingers, “All heroes and warriors receive their markings”

“Dick-”

“It’s cool, Timmy” Dick reassured, “They just think heroes are super cool. It’s basically a symbolic face painting session”

Jsaon scoffed, “Pass” he drawled.

Roy rolled his eyes, “Noooo way, Todd. There’s no way I’m missing this”

He looked at Dick, “Tell them to lead the way”

Dick smirked and told the boys who leaped to their feet with whoops. Damian looked uncertain as Dick ushered him to his feet, “It’s fine, it’s literally right around the corner”

Jason held up his forearms in a defensive cross, “I swear to god, Harper-”

Roy disregarded Jason and manhandled him up and away from the flames, “Come on, Tim” he called as he pushed and shoved Jason after Damian and the teen boys. Jason grumbled and wrenched his arms away from the redhead, upset that he couldn't properly lash out with a polite hosting village of older women surrounding them. Dick smirked as he watched them go, Wally and Artemis trailing after them with amused mischievousness oozing off their shoulders. Dick gazed around the large group as dusk began to set in, placing more responsibility on their larger fire pit. Bruce still sat to his right, but he now felt further without Tim and Jason to connect their shoulders. Across from him, Barbra and Kaldur sat quietly. Their heads were bowed as they conversed quietly, offering polite smiles every time food was passed to or through them. Rose was perched on her knees to Dick’s left and was animatedly jumping from conversation to conversation and person to person. As attention on him faded, Dick allowed his shoulders to drop, his spine loosening into a far more comfortable slouch that was most likely awful for his spine and core.

He glanced around one more time before he leaned back and quietly slipped off his stump of a seat, easing away from the animated dinner group step by step. It wasn’t long before he was far enough away to allow his footsteps to make sounds again and for the moonlight to become his primary light source. His eyes had adjusted under the enhancement that his grandfather put him through but it just meant that he didn’t find himself straining to see at night as he usually did. It was as if everything was shadowed, which made picking his way through the dark village easier but not seamless. 

He jerked in annoyance when he kicked a root that was sticking up from the ground, just enough to cause a hindrance. Dick scuffed his boot against the root, idly feeling the large bump with the toe of his boot. Something like movement made his senses flare to life. It was like when your gut told you not to second guess your periphery, even in a crowded room. Dick’s instincts had always been above average, they’d had to be in order to be aware of the people jumping and flipping around you. Bruce training him to Robin only increased that but sometimes Dick wondered if the level Bruce, then Slade, had heightened his environmental awareness to was unnatural. Sure he passed almost every test thrown at him and it was a useful skill when acting covertly on a mission, but besides that, it did little else besides scare Slade’s soldiers when they visited a base. Made them aware of just how little they could get past him. He stilled as he tried to expand his senses, confirming if someone had followed him or if he was just hearing an animal close by. He continued to scuff at the root, maintaining an aura of unawareness, but the feeling didn’t fade, persisting at the edge of his mental landscape and sight like a mosquito.

“We can’t both give each other the silent treatment,” Dick said lightly. He looked up to find Batman less than 10 feet from him. Batman didn’t speak at first and while Dick hated the way his insides twisted, he refused to speak first. He knew it was childish, but it felt like double texting and he refused to put in more effort than Bruce…once again.

Dick frowned, prepared to turn and walk away without another word but Bruce stepped forward, a strange ominous forlorn feeling radiating from him, “Are you wearing contacts?”

Dick recoiled, “What?”

Bruce stepped forward again and Dick felt himself stumble as he tried to take a step back, but hit the root with his heel, “No” he forced out, mentally cursing the root at his feet. Bruce watched him for another minute and Dick sighed, “Look, Bruce, if you're just gonna silently judge me an-”

“I won't ask again,” Bruce said.

Dick trailed off, realizing that Bruce wasn’t being foreboding…but awkward. Dick internally second-guessed himself, because Bruce was many things but awkward and unsure was never one of them, “I’m not” he said, “The electrum is… manageable at the moment”

Bruce nodded, “So it is connected to how you’re feeling. Your body’s internal regulations?”

It was posed politely and Dick found himself nodding, unsure how to converse with this version of his dad, “Yea” he said eventually, “I mean obviously Cobb didn’t leave a handbook lying around so whatever any of the doctors have told me is kind of hearsay, but most agree that it’s like hormones but.....worse” Dick said. He rubbed his nape, feeling awkward when his words sounded like a joke but his tone was too serious.

“You’ve been to a specialist then?” Bruce asked, “He’s..taken you to see doctors?”

Dick’s brow furrowed, “Yea?” he said obviously, "Slade's had me poked and prodded in nearly every country that has doctors. I mean I’m not about to throw myself under the bus, but you saw me. I’m a first for naturally occurring electrum and it’s caused some issues” he put delicately.

“I know,” Bruce said, his tone unwavering, “But you’re fine now?”

Dick nodded, calming slightly as it really did sound like Bruce was asking after him. Not his biological status, recent behaviors, or even missions. Just him, “The electrum can take its toll but it’s not like it lasts forever,” he told Bruce, leaning against the bamboo wall of the small building to his right, “I was fine like 2 days after we got Rose” he reassured the Dark Knight.

Batman nodded, “I know. I wasn’t asking after that. I was asking because of what you suffered after”

Dick stood straighter, concerned and confused all at once, “After wha?-”

Dick stopped and narrowed his attention on the shadowed father figure before him, “How exactly did you know that Queen Bee was pissed at us after the caves?” he inquired.

Batman didn’t directly answer him, “We heard you, all of us. It was enough to understand what was going on, but the others who weren't there for Rose Wilson's rescue could only speculate”

Dick’s stomach dropped and he looked past Bruce towards the small flicking glow in the distance. As if he could look his brothers and teammates in the face, “You were there? At the base? How? When?” he asked thickly. His skin felt too hot, almost like a stage spotlight had been on him for an entire performance, but the occasional jungle breeze brought out goosebumps and shivers to counter it.

Bruce stepped forward again, “Deathstroke had your entire crew teleported elsewhere before we could intervene further,” he said avoiding the question, “I just wanted to ensure you had recuperated and weren't hiding injuries. I know Wilson has been encouraging you to do so, the contacts are proof enough”

Dick scowled, feeling like anything other reaction would be too vulnerable, “I’ve never hidden myself, and no one has forced me” he hissed, “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine B” he realized the casual remark too late but tried playing it off by turning to walk away. 

Bruce cut off his escape by stepping closer, “You should never have had to thank me. Ever”

Dick stopped in surprise and whirled around, boggled and bewildered by the strange insistence on intimate conversion, “Uhh. I’m not sure what the point to this is” he admitted, “You just ruined my Nightwing with the Blacklist and now you’re what? Trying to have a special moment with me? I feel like Jason might need this rare moment from you more than me” he tried to turn away dismissively but Bruce persisted.

“I mean it” he repeated, “You should have never had to feel thankful or grateful to me and our mission, especially after what happened to you as a child”

Dick whirled on Bruce, his emotional patience whithering quicker than he’d realized, “And what if I am? Huh B? Is that too contradicting? Not black and white enough for you?” He threw his hands up, “I’ll admit, you gave me a second chance at a real life after my parent’s deaths. I could've gotten lost in the system and come out at 17 as some little snot-nosed crook, but you gave me skills and an education, and gave me another chance to affect the world instead of it affecting me. So what if I am still a little grateful to you despite all you’ve done to ruin my life” Dick stepped forward angrily, “Over and over and over again” he snapped.

“I mean look at me!” he raised his voice and spread his arms, “I've got nothing left and it’s all my fault! But I can’t just be a man about it-can’t admit my own wrongdoings-so I’ve got to blame you when I should've known from the very start what placing my trust and faith in you would've gotten me...” he narrowed his eyes, “Hurt and disappointed”

“Dick-”

“No! I’m serious Bruce, I’ve been living an up-and-down roller coaster since I was 8 years old and you've been the catalyst!” he ran a hand through his hair and blinked angrily the moment he felt a stinging poking the backs of his eyes, “But despite it all, I still have more to thank you for than I do to hate you for”

Bruce took another step forward and his fingers twitched at his side. Dick smirked and looked at Bruce, hating the small snide thought that noted how Bruce was still taller than him, most likely always would be until the age that robbed him of Batman also robbed him of his height and withered him down to an old rich man with a legacy no one would understand.

“Dick” Bruce’s voice with thick with something that instantly triggered the same in Dick. He clenched his fists and looked away, “I’m not trying to play the victim here. I’m being serious, trying to be realistic. What else am I supposed to be if not thankful? Huh? Everything you've taken from me you gave me in the first place” he smirked up at the solemn watchful moon, “But somethings you can only give, and not take, like...I dunno my skills or experiences o-”

“Happy,” Bruce said lowly.

Dick quirked a brow at the strange interruption. He’d been rambling so fast he didn’t even catch when he posed a legitimate question to Bruce, “What?”

“You aren’t supposed to hate life, or feel indebted to me, or thankful…I want you to be happy. I want all you boys to be happy. It’s the only thing a father can ask of life when we all know how fast and severely things can change in an instant”

Dick felt robbed of his words as he watched Bruce. He truly had no air to speak, the muscles in his throat weren't functioning, and his lips were gaped in surprise, frozen in what could only be described as stunned-but feeling much more severe than that simple word. 

“Fuck you”

Bruce’s shoulders tensed and he looked like he was restraining himself from moving forward further, “Fuck you” Dick spat, unable to keep the underlying wetness out of his clogged throat. He blinked furiously and cleared his throat angrily, looking away from Bruce, “Wh-” he cleared his throat and swallowed heavily, “Why would you say that now? How-” Dick looked like he was losing patience with himself and his inability to sternly express himself, “After everything I did! Why-how could you say that now? I should be in handcuffs! Not getting apologies!”

His words were intended to be a demand but they ended more as a plea. Batman’s face seemed to crumble as much as it was allowed to beneath a slim-fit cowl. In response, Bruce yanked it down, letting it drop onto the back of his neck. He prowled forward and reached Dick before freezing. He seemed to hesitate, realizing he hadn't touched his son in so long, he wasn't sure how to proceed, where to hold him, what would be welcomed. Dick glanced from the hovering gloved hands to Bruce’s bared stricken face, “You should be" Bruce confirmed, "But...Are you happy?” Bruce asked.

“With myself?” Dick shook his head, “No, with the world? Even less so, but I don’t think I've ever been content unless I've been with people that make me happy.... and that's a pretty depressing thought huh? So dependent on others for the feelings in my life. It’s me-my body and my life, and my head but I require others to feed me internally-keep me going and emotionally nourished. All I can do is keep trying new things until I find the thing that finally makes me content. Or until I can confirm that there isn’t anything else out there”

Bruce looked crestfallen, “That's a slippery slope, Dick-getting addicted to new feelings and always striving for more when the human mind is naturally flawed. Never truly happy. There’s a reason why depression is natural for people, not including clinical and severe depression. You can’t expect perfection for Dick or Nightwing or-”

“You ruined Nightwing!” Dick trembled beneath Bruce’s hesitant hands, “Robin was mine-mine and my mom’s but you took that and gave it to the next 3 kids you pitied. So I made Nightwing from Uncle Clark’s stories and tried to be someone that you couldn't replicate or give away. But instead, you ruined him so that no one would ever want him back-no one would ever want to copy him”

Bruce’s lips thinned, “Dick, I had to. Your brothers were furious with me over it and Jason almost cut ties again, but I had to allow some leeway for the rest of the Justice League to agree to offer support”

Dick scoffed but Bruce persisted, his hands clamping onto Dick. One hand found his shoulder while the other seemed to climb onto his shoulder blade, almost preparing to pull the dark-haired boy into a firm hug, “We can undo it- we can-just come home-”

That was the wrong thing to say as Dick’s eyes went wide and his nostrils flared in response. Dick shoved Bruce away and parted his lips to retort…to deny Bruce’s claim that the vigilante blacklist could ever be undone or altered. 

“What the fuck?” Dick turned to spy Jason on his left. The tall broad young man having found them through their raised voices and sudden scuffle. The moonlight highlighted green and red paint down Jason’s face, similar to Dick’s, except where Dick had markings extending out like whiskers, Jason’s were dragged all the way down his face like extravagant tears or waterfall reflections. Dick was glad that not all of the paint on his brother was green.

“Jay?”

Jason frowned, “What the fuck are you guys doing out here?”

“I’m curious as well”

Dick whirled around to find Slade standing directly behind him. Jason cursed and stepped forward just enough to peer around the corner and spot Wilson behind Dick. The man was a glowing silhouette as his back was facing the glow of the moon; shadowing his face and torso. Dick turned back to Bruce with a curled lip, suddenly very self-conscious that the man had known Slade was there and listening the entire time, especially if he was able to spot anyone approaching Dick’s blind side. The way Bruce was watching Deathstroke with a disgusted expression told Dick no, but his instincts and insecurities were screaming too loud to give Bruce the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t fear what he’d said and wasn't concerned about any backlash from Slade, especially after making it clear that Slade could expect a lot from Dick but he couldn't demand Dick turn his anger into hatred for his brothers. He was just sick of being played.

Dick made a sound low in his throat before he turned on his heel and sauntered past Slade towards the further bungalows, “Like I said Bruce" Dick called back, “Fuck you”

He walked away and toward the hut that Slade usually claimed, distantly hearing Jason demand to know what had happened. It wasn’t long before Slade followed him back, his large dark presence hard to ignore, especially in the silver moonlit doorway. Dick sighed from where he sat on the edge o Slade’s bed. He leaned forward and tried to calm his racing mind. Too many insecure notions and theories were racing through his head. Too many conflicting emotions were trying to dominate his actions and he felt paralyzed and invigorated all at the same time. He looked up as Slade’s shifting tree of a body made the floor creak slightly, “Would you still want me if I couldn't do this? If I didn't have the skill or the guts to accomplish any of this?”

Dick let his head droop, hanging low, “Sometimes I feel like I’m barely managing, but somehow I’ve gotten this reputation, this image, that I’ve above average or that I’ve exceptional and I-”

Dick didn't know how to continue, how to clearly and eloquently voice the discombobulation that was clouding his head and stuffing it past coherency. Slade prowled forward and knelt in front of Dick, claiming the tops of his knees with his gloved palms. Dick didn't lift his head, instead focusing on the glinting copper armor that covered the tops of Slade’s hands. The older man thumbed his legs where thigh transitioned into knee. After a while, Slade reached up with one hand and unbuckled his mask, laying it beside Dick on the bed, “Kid”

Dick didn’t look up and Slade tried again, “Pretty bird”

There was a question, verging on plea as much as Deathstroke was capable of voicing. Dick looked up tiredly and found Slade’s eye deadset on him and his face. The man’s expression was stony but there was a hyperfocused level of attention that seemed to reheat Dick's insides, “I know you want me to hate him, but it’s hard, it really is” Dick admitted, “I don’t know much anymore. I mean, if my life was a story and someone described it to me, would I know when the climax is? When the happy ending is? Because I’m living it and I don’t think I've hit anything other than a sucky back story and rock bottom so far”

“I know I can’t hate them without being miserable myself. I’ll snap like a yo-yo. I know you want me, but if you break me like Cobb did, I won't be me anymore and I’m scared Slade, really I-” Dick took a shuddering breath, “I’m scared that It’s too easy to drive people away” 

Dick was cut off as Slade reached around and pulled Dick into him, crushing his face into his plated chest with a forcefulness that Dick found he needed at the moment. His breath caught as Slade began rubbing soothing circles over his upper and lower back, bringing comforting chills and sighs, “I know kid, I know” Slade soothed. After a moment Slade spoke, “You think that I wouldn’t want you if you weren't as determined as you are. Or that I wouldn't be as invested in you if you didn’t have that dark malicious streak we both know the Bat tried to beat out of you and your brothers?”

Dick didn't speak.

“What you’re missing, Little Bird, is that those qualities,” The soothing circular motions started up again and Dick felt himself sighing against his will, “Those attributes, are who you are kid. If all I had was a thing for dark haired brats, I would've rounded up Wayne and all of his brats”, Slade’s chest rose and fell swiftly beneath Dick's forehead, “No” he reassured, “It’s my bird of prey I want, that I’ve always wanted. Your particular fire and your inexcusable habits of trying the softer approach first. Your ability to draw the loyalty and attention of those around you. Your inability to fail anything. Your raw talent..... The fact that fate keeps dangling you in front of every other key player on the chess board like I’ve got to prove myself...”

Dick didn’t know how to respond. He was floored, overwhelmed by the way Salde was clutching him and vowing that he was prepared to fight fate and prove himself worthy of Dick’s loyalties and attention. He looked up as if he had to reassure himself that the Slade in front of him was the one saying such ridiculously flattering and horrendous things; vowing such permanent claims. Slade looked down at him and grinned like a cat who’d caught the canary.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Tim blinked his eyes and yawned until his jaw cracked. The warm damp jungle air was refreshingly nice against the frigid morning. He stretched again as he slowly allowed himself to wake up. It was rare that he was allowed to determine his own sleep schedule and pattern and he knew he couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up so slowly; so leisurely. He sighed and allowed his bones to melt beneath the feel of the sun through the single large window above them. Tim forced his thoughts from his mind and tried to lull himself back into a thoughtless adrift, only for the unique sensation to set off alarm bells. Tim jerked upright into a sitting position and looked around. Everyone else was still asleep, “Guys” Tim croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again louder, unable to keep the crack out of his voice.

He wasn’t just warm and tired he was overheated and exhausted. Tim’s sluggish mind gasped in place of his parched mouth, We’ve been drugged.

Tim tried to remember what happened last night after Jason had returned, ranting and raving about how Bruce had pissed Dick off again, and then Wilson and Dick hadn't been seen for the rest of the night. Damian had been furious after he’d sought Dick out only to be told they would speak in the morning. Rose had shown them to their quarters where tea and snacks had been waiting. Everyone had taken a blanket and then promptly collapsed into sleep.

The food?

The tea?

Tim’s mind struggled to clearly and concisely connect the dots.

He shoved himself to his feet and stumbled over bodies, finding Jason, Roy, and Kaldur all heaped together, “Guys” Tim shoved at Kaldur’s shoulder, "Wake up!” he croaked, shoving and pushing at the older ivory-skinned man. Kaldur groaned and rolled over, bumping Roy. Roy kicked back but that woke Jason. Jason groaned and blinked groggily. His green eyes stared vacantly up at their thatched roof for a few moments before his trained and honed bat instincts kicked in just like Tim. His eyes widened and he struggled to sit up, “What the f-”  He broke off into a coughing fit

“Where’s B?” Tim demanded. Jason looked at Tim blankly and Tim could see the gears in his mind trying to process his words, but failing rather adeptly.

“Bruce!” Tim repeated sharply.

Jason blinked and shook his head. He sat up and kicked at Roy. “With Damian?” he said, like it was a question.

Roy groaned, “I feel like shit” he grumbled out, throwing an arm over his eyes. Kaldur was taking his time waking up and collecting himself. He sat up and gleaned around, taking stock of what portion of the team was in their bungalow still, “We’ve slept in horribly late” he said, “It must be nearly noon”

Tim looked out the window before realization set in, “Fuck” he breathed, looking around, “Dick” he said.

Jason blinked stupidly, “What?”

Tim glared before a headache forced his brow to soften, “Jason, they’re gone” he said miserably.

Jason watched him, processing his words before he shook his head, “Mmmno” he tried to sit up quicker but Tim stopped him, “Jason, they’re gone. It’s noon and they slipped us all something. Slade probably planned this the moment Rose invited us. We gotta find her”

"Where the fuck in B?" Jason asked in a mumble, "Were we all drugged?"

Kaldur groaned and Roy reached over himself to start nudging Barbra and Artemis beside him. Tim started to rattle off plans, but Jason tuned him out, leaning back until his back fell flat against the floor with a pitiful thump, “Fuck” he groaned miserably.

 

Chapter 25

Notes:

Hey there! merry Christmas! See ya in 2025

2 years ago

 

 

Crack!

“Fuck you!”

 

Crack!

 

“Looks like we’re starting over….. A pity”

 

Crack!

 

Gasp, “Fuck!”

 

Crack!

 

“I didn’t hear you, boy?”

 

 

Crack!

 

 

Crack!

 

 

 

 

 

Crack!

 

Crack!

 

Crack!

 

“30” he whimpered.

 

“I believe you earned yourself another 5 for your crude language. Why don’t we ask your master, boy?”

 

Crack!

 

 

"31"

Crack!

 

 

 

 

Crack!

 

Gasp

 

 

 

Crack!

 

“Have you learned your lesson kid?”

Crack!

 

Crack!

 

 

 

Crack!

 

“Yes,” he forced out. His voice felt quiet but it echoed loudly against the absence of the whip.

 

 

Crack!

 

The slashing, searing pain continued until Dick’s numbed mind caught on to what they were waiting for.

 

 

Crack!

 

“I’m sorry, Master”

 

“And to our host?”

 

Dick tried to speak, he did, but the pain just kept coming and it felt like it took longer to recover from each one than it took for the bright white pain to return to his back and shoulders. He nodded frantically, hoping they could see him from where he’d been strung up. His shoulder muscles had lost the will to hold his head up long ago.

 

His back was so hot that the last few slashes didn't register, it just felt like a sudden increase of weight to his permanently warmed shoulder blades. He wasn’t aware of much after that. There were fingers on his wrists and the movement of air against his bare torso.

 

He felt the pull of his pants-covered knees against the floor and remembered glimpses of the floor as he was dragged….Slade’s familiar boots were beside him the entire time.

 

 

Crack!

 

 

 

Crack! 

 

He wasn’t sure if he was remembering the pain of his punishment or if he never actually escaped it. He was warm, sure, but his entire back was warm. He felt soft, the urge to sigh overwhelmed him. He shifted, feeling cloth and a comforter beneath his chest. Was he in bed?

The sounds of shifting material and clinking vials outside of his periphery told him someone was there and moving objects. It was quiet and Dick found himself sinking into the warm, lying to himself that it was just a sunburn and not 40 plus whip lashes for speaking back against Ra’s Al Ghul and 50 other Shadows on his first day in Nanda Parbat. 

He didn’t think he fell asleep but suddenly found himself in a different position on his next blink. Slade sat beside him in the bed, leaning agasit the headboard; like it was just another Thursday night. Dick winced as he shifted. He was still splayed on his front but a light sheet was draped over his bare body and a pillow was situated beneath his head.

Slade paused in his typing and tilted his laptop screen down to shield Dick from some of the artificial light. He reached over and casually ran a hand up and down Dick’s neck, brushing up the shorter hairs on his nape before starting over again, “Are you awake this time, kid?”

Dick frowned in confusion. He couldn't recall another opportunity to be awake. Slade smirked at him, “It’s ok, little bird, let the anesthesia run its course. We’ll talk in the morning”

Dick wanted to talk now. He tried shifting but his body felt like it had been inflated and then filled with lead or adamantium. He gave a muffled chuckle into his pillow, he was, he realized. Cobb had injected his bone structure with an adamantium-based compound. The only reason he wasn't dead from lead poisoning was because of his electrum’s healing potential. Slade gave him a cursory sideways glance, blaming his weak laugh on the drugs.

“Mmmwha..” Slade shushed him, “You made a mistake and paid for it, just focus on your recovery kid. Ra’s will let the affront be disregarded”

Slade pulled away, “I know you didn’t act bullheaded with our mission in mind, but your stubbornness did give Ra’s the intended perspective that I’ve got you under thumb and heel. This was good for us in the end”

Dick drew his eyes back up to Slade, realizing he’d begun to stare distantly at his master's paused fingers. They were gloveless and hovered over the laptop keyboard. Slade chuckled as he saw Dick’s distant, dazed expression, “Get some rest kid. I gave you enough to kill a horse and your body hasn't purged it yet”

Dick wanted to ask more, wanted to know what happened but he couldn't remember what he wanted to ask…or why. Slade’s carding started up again and Dick found his motivation swept away under those calloused fingers. He grumbled, but soon all he could feel was the softness beneath him and the pleasant tingling against his scalp.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Present

 

 

She looked up as the man returned. The thin dark-haired man had been one of the only consistent people she’d seen in the last week or so. She knew he was a magic user of some sort because one second she was in the city and the next she found herself staring up at numerous faces and a cave ceiling. The dark cave and tight hallways had been all she’d seen since then, but this man and the tall dark-skinned woman had been her only familiar faces, but familiar was stretching it. She still had no information, no names to put to faces, and no explanations to solve her confusing whereabouts.

He gazed at her through the bars of her cell, “How are we feeling little witch?”

She pulled her knees to her chest and watched him. Too uncertain to answer his questions and offer him more of an advantage over her. He knew too much about her. He knew who her father was and what she was capable of-what she’d done in the past. But she couldn't figure out what they wanted of her. Her cage was cozy, she could admit that. It was a large room with uneven walls and a bumpy ceiling. Her bed was large and soft, more luscious than she was used to, but all her clothes and the food offered were still just more aspects of her gilded cage. They'd replaced what she assumed was a regular door with a barred cell door, and the thin young man and tall woman often peered at her through them. Her guards were masked men who never spoke but held an atmosphere of intimidation in the way they walked and melded from shadow to shadow.

The thin man had come by yesterday and drained her in some way. She didn’t know what his strange chants and incantations meant exactly but the way her bones were desperate to sag and the way her insides screamed for more energy within the blink of an eye lined up too well with his visits. She was never in danger, but every few days, he’d come by and take a little more. She wasn’t sure if she was being used as a power source or if they were testing her-tasting her magic.

She had no way to fight back either. She’d woken in the cave with a meta-dampening collar already around her throat, completely cutting off any point in her own chants and incantations. They were simple words that never varied but their effects were altered and changed based on her intents and needs at the time. She still mediated, as she learned that it was the best way to keep her father and his influence away from her mental landscape, but it was difficult as her incantations and safety precautions to keep her powers in check had little consequence besides calming her anxiety-stricken heart. 

He shrugged, unconcerned about her unwillingness to talk and respond back to her captors, “Come onnnnn. Just say something, little witch. I know you’re unhappy but I’m always happy, so that should be enough to compensate! I saved you from your big bad daddy before he could do anything- you should be happy” She didn't respond, “The other you’s weren't so lucky” he wagged his finger. He always said such strange things about different her’s and her father or what was bound to happen-but that he’d stopped it with her kidnapping. Instead, he wiggled his fingers at her like some animal he was half heartedly offering attention to, “Seeeee ya” he sang off-key and sauntered away.

She watched him walk away. She was no closer to answers or an escape, but she knew she had to find a way out before the strange witch man-child grew bored of her and her magic reserves. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dick hadn’t heard from Bruce or his brothers for a while, but he wasn’t expecting them to reach out after he’d drugged them all to high noon. He knew his brothers must have been furious, but whenever he remembered Bruce’s words or how he might've responded Dick and Slade’s cowardly exit, a somber strange kind of silence overcame his mind. It was much easier to push it all from his mind, erase it from his active train of thoughts. It was becoming too easy to do so though.

He tried not to think of it by busying himself, but that had been too easy with how busy they had been over the last 2 months. The Demon Head had propositioned Slade to use Dick for a handful of small-time interrogations as a teaching tool for his shadows. Queen Bee had been busy with another project and was often unavailable to meet or speak, so that left a majority of their work to be dictated by Luthor, Ra’s, and Savage.

Dick glanced around the table again as Slade spoke. The meeting his master had brought him to appeared to be coming to a close as they discussed topics and operations they wanted to have handled or people that should be disappearing. He resisted the urge to noticeably freeze as he made eye contact with Vandal Savage again. The man was shorter than Slade but just as bulky, appearing like some kind of caveman that had been thrust forward in time and civilized with a brush and a suit. The man had been actively participating in their meeting, offering updates, status reports, and more, but every time Dick resumed his cursory glance around the table, the man’s eyes were already on him; waiting for him. His large dark foreboding pupils seemed to swallow him up and offer all sorts of negative emotions to Dick’s guessing mind. He had no idea if he’d pissed off the immortal or acted in a way that deserved such an attentive, focused fixation. The man was leaning forward, with his elbows on the table and his fisted hands pressed against his lips, like he was reflecting. Dick knew better, the man was hunting-for what? He wasn't quite sure yet.

He knew there were connections between other things and people, but hadn't been able to clearly follow the strings and the thread anywhere that made sense. Slade had kept him from attending any private or in-person meetings with Savage until now. He’d refused to discuss the Light’s plans with him, and now Dick was starting to feel cornered and trapped. It was an embarrassing feeling as the old dark-haired man was only watching him. Dick had grown up with strange people and the paparazzi vying for his attention for a decade as Bruce's oldest playboy ward. He was so sure that he had been desensitized to attention and other's opinions of him.

“I agree,” Slade said. The man leaned back in his seat from where he was positioned in front and to Dick’s left. The man had trained him and prepped him like any of his other soldiers on hand would have been. Dick was always to stay silent and to Slade’s back and to the right, offering his silent existence as a sign of intimidation and danger, but not so much as to imply that Slade would ever actually need protection.

Dick pulled his gaze away, feeling that dark bottomless pupils sear into the side of his head again.

“It's decided then” Luthor clapped his hands.

“No-it’s isn’t,” Slade said slowly, reminiscent of when he spoke to Rose after she had done something and assumed there would be no consequences.

Luthor scowled, “We’ve got places to be, Wilson. Enough with the word games. Why did you say that you agreed that your soldiers and support for my and Queen Bee’s operations would be a good idea if you aren’t going to follow through?”

Ra’s lip twitched as his only sign of amusement, “Come now, Luthor” the Demon Head drawled, “Are you so eager to move on from this meeting that you’re allowing your ambition to make you dense?”

Luthor scowled but waited for an explanation. It was obvious Savage wasn’t about to speak so that left him in a 2 to 1 argument.

Ra’s leaned back, his deep jade robe falling around his arms and legs elegantly, “Our contracted mercenary already has quite the to-do list thanks to Savage; and the other members of our organization. We know that he hasn’t slowed his own business and personal contracts either”

Lutho’s lips thinned like the explanation wasn’t good enough.

“You seem to be lacking on any reason why our mercenary should offer more of his services and organization to a movement that is still just that.…a movement. We are moving to take strides and enact our operations, but there has been little to no talk or extended contract, increased pay, no insurance or liability for the men he’d be putting on the line for us” Ra’s leaned forward again, “He’s not even an official member of the Light. Deathstroke is a contracted employee”

He almost hissed the last few sentences like Luthor’s obliviousness to it was so irritating that Ra’s couldn't withhold his own reactions. Luthor dragged his gaze from the Demon Head to Deathstroke. The mercenary was lounged back, his right ankle placed over his left knee. They watched each other stoicly for a moment before Slade shrugged, “I haven't heard anything that isn't true yet” he stated calmly, “All I’ve heard is that you wish to risk my men and my current ongoing business ventures to help ensure the safety of your own…that would require another contract…Lex” Slade hissed, “It doesn't matter if I agree the move would be a smart one or not. We all know you need me to act behind the scenes and play clean up for you while you caress that ass of every billionaire you have access to” Slade crossed his arms, “But we also know you need me more than I need you. I’m already wealthy, could retire right now in fact, and leave my children sizeable trust funds for the next 4 generations…but you need me for what I have access to”

Dick felt Savage’s eyes bore into him alongside everyone else’s. He hated where this conversation was going and knew that he couldn't voice it to Slade. Ra’s seemed to take pity on him and stood, pushing his chair back, “This hypothetical back and forth is getting tiresome” he looked to Luthor, “Do try and remember not to offer such pathetic propositions again. Not unless you have the means to offer proper compensation for such manpower and requests”

He looked to Slade, “You have far too much on your plate to be needlessly heckling the men who pay you”

Slade smirked, “The man who pays me has already received his update for the month and we are 4 heads ahead of schedule” Savage smirked in agreement, “Everything is in order” he reported lowly.

Ra’s nodded, “Then we are done here for now. I’ll be reaching out to our other members to update them on our progress. I’m still expecting the base confirmation of those chips, Luthor. Deathstroke has completed his obligations, you seem to be the one lagging here”

Luthor offered a polite grin that was vacant of anything pleasant, but Slade had chosen the moment to stand, stealing Dick’s attention. The older man proceeded to the exit and Dick made sure to stay close to his heels. He wasn’t eager to stick around any of the Light; he was lucky enough to have been forced into a meeting without Klarion or Queen Bee. He felt the African woman still had it out for him. On top of that, Klarion and he had been butting heads on and off for the last year or so. The strange witch seemed to despise Dick the moment he presented himself in a good mood, claiming to desire friendship but acting out in the oddest ways after. They were within reaching distance of the exit when Savage stopped them. Dick jerked and cursed the dark-haired man for impeccable timing. When Dick glanced over, Ra’s and Luthor were already sequestered on the other side of their large meeting room.

“Deathstroke” Vandal greeted.

“I've already given you your quarterly report” Slade drawled, "Al Ghul wasn't just speaking to listen to himself...this time. I do have other matters to attend to"

Savage nodded in acknowledgment, “And I appreciate your aptitude and services”

Slade stared him down silently, waiting for whatever the man had confronted them for, “I merely wanted to check up on you, inquire after you as you seemed to be living a very nonstop lifestyle at the moment. Rest and reflection is always good to ensure-”

“Your consideration is appreciated as I’m sure it's…genuine but-”

“I was asking the boy, Deathstroke"

Both men stopped each other before they seemed to remember that Dick was standing between them and turned to stare him down. Dick blinked as the attention shift was so sudden he found himself at a loss for words. He knew what he wanted to do and say. But he also knew that Slade would have him out back and whipped within a moment’s notice if he told Savage to fuck off. His back had suffered enough under a whip. Luckily, he was expected to play the part of a simpering apprentice, a mindless weapon, so he looked to Slade for directions. The man seemed to suddenly find the differentiation amusing. He crossed his arms and gave Dick a look that said, Well?

“Uhh-I’m doing..well” Dick offered lamely, forcing his attention back to Savage. He knew what the man was doing but he still wasn’t sure why. He had no history with Vandal Savage, save a few run-ins with Batman and Robin, but the man was suddenly infatuated with him. had been for the last 2 years or so.

Savage nodded, pleased. Dick wasn’t sure if he was covering up the obvious awkwardness between the three of them, or pleased that Dick had just addressed him directly, “Your current lifestyle is, no doubt, a beneficial deterrent for your built-up electrum, but I do hope, that there aren’t any unknown side affects that arise from pushing yourself too hard”

Dick felt dumbfounded as the man spoke like he was one of Cobb’s scientists, speculating after his biology, “What?” he asked in a daze.

Savage smirked and Dick felt his stomach drop, feeling as though he'd walked into a trap. He shoved down the uncertain feelings and chose not to look at Slade, “What are you -How do you know that?”

“The doctors you’ve been to haven't been able to tell you much, have they?” Savage said. He placed his hands in his coat pockets, “I’d imagine not. You’re a first by all accounts so even the men who succeeded don’t know what they have on their hands”

Dick cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, “Have you been talking to Cobb?” The words escaped him before he could measure them on his tongue.

“Renegade”

Savage smiled like his namesake implied, “Your Grandfather isn’t as up in the wind as you’ve been led to believe, boy. He still has much to say-”

Dick opened his mouth to ask-demand-for more, but Slade’s voice cut him off, far sharper than before, “Renegade”

Dick stopped himself, realizing how close he was to proving that he wasn't a subservient weakling to Detahstroke. He didn't want to highlight Slade’s allowance for him to talk back in a room full of men they planned to betray in the future. He despised allowing Slade such a petty lording hierarchy over him, but could acknowledge the advantage it gave them if their enemies truly believed the power differential. Dick glanced at Slade but the man didn't look as infuriated as his tone implied. He was merely watching Dick, demanding his attention back. Dick dipped his head to Slade, “Master. I’ll meet you for training”

Slade nodded and allowed Dick to escape.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Slade found him sometime later and they took a large private room, “Is that why you never let me stick around?” Dick asked, “He knows something you don’t want me to know or he’s trying to find out something from us?”

Slade looked unconcerned at the accusation, “He’s another obstacle I have no interest in combatting at the moment” Slade said simply.

Dick frowned, “But Cobb-”

“We know the Light knows where your grandfather is. We’re integrating ourselves to safely and slowly find his whereabouts”

“But that could be Savage!” Dick pointed out in frustration.

Slade offered Dick a slow look, “You sound like your brother” Slade said, “I truly hope it’s not that easy to hook your interest with a few snippets of information anyone in that room could have acquired”

Dick sighed in aggravation, not willing to admit Slade was right about his show of curiosity and eagerness. 

“Let this be a lesson in patience, kid. We aren't even going after him until the others are taken care of. You requested it that way”

“I know I did” Dick snapped, “I just don’t like him. The way he feels-he’s always watching me” he complained as if Slade wasn't already aware of the strange fixation his apprentice had earned from the man. 

Slade didn’t allow Dick to wallow for long in discomfort, “You’re obviously the weak link here, pretty bird” he thinks he can widdle his way in through you with some snippets of medical history." Slade leaned back, “Don't let him” like it was just that simple to resist the information and curiosities Savage and everyone else seemed to be able to display before Dick.

Dick scowled at the simple way Slade put it. He was seconds away from starting the argument he wanted to back in the meeting room when Slade received a call. Dick fell silent as Slade took it. The older man listened for a moment before he hung up immediately and pushed away from the wall. He looked down at Dick and reached out, ruffling his hair, “We’ll speak more later. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up before we head out and you need to find your wayward team before they cause any issues” He brushed DIck's dark locks back like he was slicking it back from his forehead. Dick nodded, knowing that he wouldn't get too much more out of the man at the moment. They’d talk later anyway since Roan Damarask and Joseph Gilf were their next targets. Slade had given Dick the go-ahead to plan their next mission for South Africa and head right for the last few Owls that seemed to be stuck together at the hip. Dick didn’t mind, it meant less work for him if tracking one down mean finding the other close by. He was curious as to their off-paper relationship if they were ready to risk everything for the safety and comfort of the other. All the Owls had abandoned each other quickly.

Dick waited for Slade to exit the room before he heaved a deep breath, a sign Slade would usually take as a wavering sign of weakness, and questioned him until he was actually ready to break down. He did follow through with some of his stricter katana forms and exercises, slicing his sheathed blade through the air in slow controlled motions. He went through the same warm-up and warm-down his parents used to do, stretching his back and the ligaments in his thighs and chest until the ache verged on painful.

When he felt like he’d done enough, he allowed himself to relax. He toweled off and left the confines of the sparring room to go searching for his personal team. He wanted to go over a few things about other targets and the mission expectations before they met with Slade. Even though they were ranked high enough to be privy to mission goals and pre-set parameter meetings, they were rarely given the opportunity to speak. Their restraint was based in fear and reserved trepidation on their end, but it also meant that Slade was rarely in the mood to humor any questions they had. Dick had learned early on that he needed to ask all the questions, and more, substituting for himself and his private team. He’d fallen into the habit of meeting with them beforehand and after to confirm what they wanted to know and to regroup in a more informal setting after. Slade set the standards and expectations for them but most times Dick was the one leading the mission in the field; so he would always set more realistic expectations and demands of them afterward. He knew that Slade’s expectations of him weren't to counter his authority but the man wanted situations like this to arise so that Dick was forced to balance leadership with realistic mission operations parameters. 

Dick was barely down the hallway when Klarion rounded the corner in front of him. They spotted each other instantly and Dick couldn't withhold his frown. Klarion giggled and waved at him, twiddling his polished shoes like some love-stricken 12-year-old boy. The lean oil black-haired witch was always dressed like he was prepping to attend a symphonic orchestra performance, and while Dick was never one to judge by appearances, he could barely control the snide judgments that flitted through him at the sight of him. Dick despised the witch. He was obviously mentally ill but Dick had very little faith that the witch’s actions would be different under other circumstances. He’d proven time and time again that Queen Bee was not the driving force behind his actions, merely an excuse. Dick had seen him take enjoyment in moments where he needn’t, but chose to. Dick had seen those sly small grins when he’d been publicly whipped for talking back to the Demon Head a year ago. He’d seen the eagerness in his depthless eyes when the Queen Bee held public executions among her soldiers for those she deemed traitorous. He’d seen it all and more and Dick had no room left for sympathy for a man like him, especially in the life he was convinced he was forever committed to now. He knew that surviving Renegade would only be easier if he had a hard heart. If Slade had any preference and control over his internals, he knew the man would've removed his heart in the very beginning, maybe even tried to preserve some of the frigidness that the Court tried to instill into him.

He knew Slade was devoted to him in many ways, but often wondered if he would still idealize Dick if he was the same mindless slave Cobb wanted of him….In retrospect, those 4 months in Slade’s cabin had proved the man cared very much for his fiery character… among other aspects of him. Dick refused to show any weakness or discomfort around the witch, so he continued on down the hallway. They passed each other when Dick stopped short at the Witch speaking.

“Witchy girl, girlwitch. So, so dark, but not quite dark. Will be soon-tasty magic-tired magic-tastytired-”

“What girl?” Dick stopped. He tilted his head but refused to turn his body. An intimidation tactic he’d seen Slade use countless times.

Klarion stopped short and did a cartoonish backing-up motion, “What?”

Dick narrowed his eyes, “You. Heard. Me”

Klarion giggled, “Everyone hears you…except you”

Dick’s fingers twitched involuntarily, “You screamed soooooo loud” The witch covered one hand over his mouth and giggled like they were teen girls gossiping. Dick knew Klarion was unstable and blurted out on and off-topic, nonsensical blurbs all the time, but his jab at Dick’s public punishment made his fingers twitch with the same urge that overcame him when he had too much electrum built up. He did his best to redirect, “What girl?” he demanded slowly. Ra’s was a known sexist pig, judging people based on their sex organs over their skills most days. His daughter Talia was one of the few exceptions, and only because she’d been born his child before the Pitt extinguished his ability to reproduce again. The shadows didn't allow women soldiers unless they were primarily spies, which was just another cover for Ra’s to utilize women as seductresses and to tempt unaware men.

“The little witch” Klarion moved on from Dick’s torture like it was nothing. He made a small gesture between his two fingers like he was referring to someone who was only 4 inches tall.

“Did Queen Bee recruit another witch?” Dick asked, “A child?”

Klarion looked affronted before his eyes took on a slightly distant expression. Dick was nearly fed up with the effort it took to converse when he said, “As if” as normally as Dick had ever heard him speak, “She’s locked uptight” he said. Dick scowled as Klarion quickly fell back into his strangely melodic way of speaking, “The purple girl ain’t goin' nowhere?”

Dick didn’t like this one but it was possible the witch was spewing complete nonsense. If Queen Bee had kidnapped a magical child though, and was recruiting children for strange magical gain or sacrifices, he’d have to intervene somehow. Not only was it a bad sign that Queen Bee sought more unearthly firepower quite frequently, but Dick wasn’t about to let another Damian be raised beneath the Light’s head figures. 

“Klarion” Dick snapped, “Did you bring a child here? Where is she? Does Ra’s Know?”

“Ra? Raaaaaas-Rasperry!”

Dick was seconds away from strangling the witch, consequences be damned, “The Demon Head”

“Green pit man!”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Yes, he owns the Lazarus Pitt”

“Dark dark hair with bright white! That boy has got some sharp green eyes” Klarion looked up at the ceiling, “Wait no” he dropped his eyes to their feet and smiled like he’d gotten a question right.

Dick went rigid, “That’s Redhood” he forced out.

Klarion snickered, “Oh yeah he is. Skunk boy. He smells-did smell pretty bad. Especially when he had to dig himself out of his own grave. Worse than a skunk but Talia liked how he looked." Klarion offered a disappointing pouty look, “You didn’t go” he whimpered in a deeper voice, “Why didn’t you at least come to my funeral-”

Dick had Klarion choking up against the wall before he could finish, “You gave me your hand-me-downs and then you let me die-” Klarion made a disgustingly wet gurgling sound as Dick tightened his grip, “Shut your mouth” Dick saw spit fling itself across the witch’s pale cheeks. Klarion smiled but it didn't last long against the pain resounding in his throat. He grasped at Dick’s wrist and kicked his feet as his body forced him to focus on struggling for life. Dick leaned in, uncaring to help moderate or manage the building heat beneath his skin. His fingers felt warm and content amidst Klarion’s soft flesh and he was itching for the witch to say one more thing so that he could squeeze harder and-

“Sir?”

Dick jerked and spun around, vaguely registering Klarion falling to his knees and gasping. He spotted Kris immediately but her eyes were at his feet. Dick turned back to Klarion and realized he was far closer to making an irreversible mistake than he’d realized. The upper back of Klarion’s black suit was ripped from where Dick had shoved and dragged him across the rocky walls of the cave hallway. He was still hunched over and gasping at his feet, a small puddle of spit growing beneath his floundering lips.

Dick felt his lip curl in distaste but kept his voice even, “What?” he demanded of Kris. He knew it wasn't here fault that the feeling of pumping blood and lessening air flow beneath his palm had been stopped. She glanced back up at Dick, “The Colonel mentioned you’d be looking for us” she trailed off, her eyes desperately drawn back to Klarion. She jerked them back to Dick, “Eerie and Wildcard are finishing up so I thought I’d come to confirm you were in your rooms”

Dick clenched his fists, feeling a satisfying thumping when he did so, almost like when he went to bed with too much adrenaline still in his system and he ended up listening to his own heartbeat resonate through his pillow. His nails bit into his palms, which seemed to slightly counter the building mindless heat that Klarion’s words had dug up. He rolled his shoulders, suddenly feeling slightly foolish for reacting so strongly when he knew Klarion was unstable to begin with. He’d have his men confirm if there really was a kidnapped child at the base of the shadows later, but for the meantime…

Dick turned and crouched down. He locked his emotions down, “Watch your mouth…You’d better hope you aren't hiding a child” he added after a second thought.

He pulled away and stood up, turning to address Kris when Klarion spoke. He sounded like he’d never been shoved against the wall by an equally unstable meta, “You care sooo much about kids” he muttered with a strange tone. Dick would’ve called it jealousy if his brothers had been using that attitude with him, but Klarion was always a boggling mystery. 

The inky witch looked up at Dick, “You never get punished enough” he sneered, “Too much riding on him-too much money-he’s an investment” Klarion drawled in different voices, “No, I’ll make sure you get punished just like every other misbehaving child should”

Dick turned slightly, “Is that a threat?” Dick asked coldly. 

Klarion watched him in a way that had him wondering if he had his full faculties about him. The conscious look fell from his eyes and they widened slightly, resurfacing the familiar deranged look Klarion usually wore, “Robin robin, such an easy little bird to kill. Such a small, small bird. I’ll make you feel smallllllll” Klarion started singing and Dick felt his hackles fall in the face of such mindless tittering.

He turned back to Kris, “Gather the others and meet me in the spare sparring room beside the cafeteria” he ordered. Kris glanced back to Klarion’s collapsed form but one look at Dick’s Leave him expression had her nodding and walking back to the others with a briskness that Deathstroke usually inspired in his men.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Damian double-checked Drake’s list for the 4th time when footsteps alerted him to someone entering the cave. He’d been in a foul mood ever since Richard had drugged them all and escaped into the night, even going so far as to leave all the trackers they’d placed on him on the door to their own jet. Batman had appeared unaffected but no one was eager to point that out. Damian despised the new Richard almost as much as the older Richard. This new one acted the same brutal way with uncaring behaviors and abrupt departures, but now he offered them familiar smiles and apologies; making the unseen wounds across his heart feel deeper and more vicious.

“Damian?” Tim asked groggily. Damian didn’t reply, “It’s 3 am?”

Damian glanced at the computer in front of him, confirming it was 3:09 am, “I know. I’m not the one just waking up with partial faculties”

“Partial-Damian what are you doing up?”

Damian’s worry had been building but Drake’s incessant questions quickly pushed it down him until it snowballed into frustration and anxiety, “Double checking what no one else has the common sense to!” he snapped. 

He ignored Drake until the boy saw fit to peek over his shoulder, “Why are you checking that?’ he asked tiredly. Damian had the stolen list of Court of Owl members displayed beside a police search database that he surely hadn’t been given legal access to, “We have a digital trigger set already” he reminded the younger boy, “If any death certificates are created, we’ll be notified within minutes”

Damian bit his lip, “What if Richard or Deathstroke manages to hide their activity from us though?”

Drake leaned over his shoulder more, looking at his screen, “What do you mean?” he asked.

Damian pushed away from the desk and looked at Drake seriously, “I know Deathstroke promised Father not to take out contracts or continue killing the Owls while we are in this agreement but we all know that is complete bullshit”

Drake went to speak but Damian cut him off, “I wouldn't give it further consideration if Richard was the one making this vow, but Deathstroke promised this to us. That man has no moral compass, he has no standards. He is a lowlife”

Tim smirked and scratched his neck, “You’re not wrong, but what is all this supposed to do about those death certificates? You just wanna double-check that they’re still alive?” Tim asked through a lion’s yawn.

Damian shook his head, “I’ve found reports, but they’re all speculative. I-” he cleared his throat and looked at the other monitors like he wasn't actively avoiding eye contact, “I have been unable to acquire further concrete data on my own”

Tim resisted the urge to chuckle, “Let me see” he said politely. He bent over the desk and pulled the connected laptop towards him a little. He scanned the article Damian was reading and stopped. He re-read it and looked at the younger boy who was already staring him down earnestly, “Oh” Tim said. 

The article was a French gossip magazine clip speculating how Joseph Gilf and Roan Damarask had most likely run into some financial and legal troubles, leading to their disappearance. The gossip magazine’s narrative was innocent and naive, speculating that the men, who had been long-time business partners, had been embezzling and misappropriating funds from their companies and other joint accounts, leading to investor fraud, defalcation, and tax fraud at the bare minimum. The two men and one assistant hadn’t been seen in the last 2 weeks, leading the public’s imagination to venture as to what they’d done to want to escape French authorities. Most online sources claimed to have spotted them in New York or Quebec but Tim knew what Damian was getting at the instant he read the gossip scandal. Dick and Deathstroke had made 2 Owls disappear at once and it hadn’t been reported because their companies were already under fire from public scandal and gossip warmongering. 

“Fuck” Tim breathed. His fingers began to fly across the keyboard, searching the public and dark web for anything associated with the men. It was true that their companies had been doing poorly, firing employees, suffering from scandals, and tanking stocks but Tim couldn't find any proof as to whether Wilson or others were responsible for the decline. It had appeared to be at the fault of their executive board for overspending and poorly managing their company. Had this been planned long? Had Deathstroke whittled away at multiple firms and companies so that there was a legitimate alibi waiting for the public when 2 billionaires disappeared? It’d only be too easy for authorities to blame it on cowardice. 

He glanced over at the list of names Damian had pulled up but stopped short. Dread solidified in his joints and fingers. The last 3 names on their list were Yassen Gretchovin, Lydia Ryland, and William Cobb.

“Fuuuck” he said, spiralling, “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“What? What?” Damian asked, panicking right alongside him.

“I’ve found them Master Bruce” 

Tim and Damian visibly jumped, turning to find Alfred watching them from the bottom of the stairs in his midnight robe. The bags under his eyes were heavily visible and he was holding the upstairs intercom button, “Both boys appear to be …freaking out” he said the word like it was his first time using it.

“I’m coming” came a gruff low voice over the comm system.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce caught on just as quickly despite his sleep-deprived state, “Yassen Gretchovin, Joseph Gilf, and Roan Damarask are all missing”

It wasn’t a question but they could all realize how slyly they’d been duped by Deathstroke. Dick and Slade had been widdling down at the Court of Owls underneath Bruce’s nose.

“I think it’s safe to say that Lydia and Cobb are the only surviving members,” Tim said. He gave Alfred a thankful look as the elderly man set down another tray of water and coffee.

“Cobb isn’t even assured” Damian pointed out, “Ryland is the only one who’s been seen reliably in public. She is most likely using her public appearances as a safety net so she doesn't disappear like the others”

“Cobb is still alive,” Bruce said firmly.

“How do you know?” Tim asked.

Bruce was reviewing his own monitor from where he sat beside his sons. Without looking up he replied, “Wilson will want to make a spectacle out of this kill for Dick. His goal is to desensitize Dick to these actions and behaviors, so he will want to make this a ritual that feels rewarding to Dick. This isn't something that will be swept under the rug and kept from authorities. Besides, it's become a widely accepted belief that Cobb is at fault more than anyone else”

Damian looked conflicted at the knowledge that Dick hadn’t killed Cobb but that it wouldn't be something Deathstroke would encourage him to hide.

“Dammit!”

Tim tensed like he wanted to jump but only Damian came close to flinching. Still, it was a testament to how closely in sync the robins were with their Batman's visceral anger and frustration did little to upset their cumulative research and work at 3 am. Bruce pushed away from the table with a sigh, “I need one of you to call Jason and let him know. He blocked all my publicly associated numbers”

Tim nodded, “I’ll call him” he intoned. Bruce nodded and made his way upstairs, “He’s gonna be pissed though!” Tim called after him.

“He’s always pissy” Damian glowered from where he saw tucked into his swivel chair. Tim gazed at the boy sideways so it wasn't so obvious. Damian was taking the news of Dick’s multi-count surprise murder spree very well. He knew the younger boy was holding a lot of inner turmoil inside but he seemed to be accepting Dick’s change rather well, all things considered, especially after the strange character disposition that Dick had shown at their last mission. Tim tried not to dwell on it so that he wouldn't find himself disappointed but he hoped that the facade Dick showed them more recently was authentic. It gave him hope to see a light-hearted, smiling Dick that offered soft touches and eye contact; even if he did turn around a moment later and almost strangle a soldier with one hand.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

2 down… He couldn’t believe it. They had been relatively strong-willed until the very end, so Dick hadn’t played with them as thoroughly as he did Yassen. But taking his time didn't seem to bring him the same sort of pleasure as the others did. It brought anxiety, a knowing feeling that he was 2 steps closer to gutting his grandfather like the dog he tried to force Dick to be.

There were only 2 fewer men in the world..well 3 if he counted the casualty of that assistant, but the absence of those 2 men meant the absence of lifetimes of suffering. He could still see their faces. Joseph had gone first, shot through the back of the head in an attempt to simplify things and speed along the process. Dick was getting antsy the closer he got to Cobb. Roan had been facing Joseph but recovered from his shock relatively well. His assistant lay dead and mangled at his business partner’s feet but Dick knew they were far more than just business partners. No one as corrupt as these men risked their lives for mere friends-he’d seen brothers turn on each other the second their lives felt at risk and fleeting....These men hadn't Roan had fought and struggled, Dick respected that, but in the end, he was an owl…and Dick couldn't do anything but rage against these men and their lack of concern for a young boy like he'd been.

He remembered Roan. He’d been there for every single one of Dick’s initiations and presentations. All of Cobb’s attempts to show off his pathetic, mindlessly savage pet. The man had been unconvinced of Dick’s usefulness and longevity-leading to a greater number of theatrics and tests on Cobb’s part. The man had been stiff-lipped and driven by the authority he knew his character carried. Dick despised him, despised how he didn’t grovel like the rest or try to barter and offer Dick anything. He didn’t try to use those horrific words on Dick…he wanted to survive, sure, but Dick hated how the man was so accepting of the situation. Dick wanted him to suffer and to agonize, using his last few breaths to plead and quiver before the monster he'd funded for Cobb. He didn’t, and the only solace that Dick found was that it brought him one step closer to confronting Cobb. He’d told Slade he knew his grandfather would be running, hiding like the survivor that he was, but that he wanted him to die last. He wanted to present every single death of his grandiose Owls to his grandfather before he forced him to join them.

He knew Cobb used to be the Court’s Talon, he was the oldest member of the Court and had been initiated into their conniving board by whoever wore his owl mask previous to him. Cobb took regular electrum and most likely knew how to create more, or had his own stash far away from any wandering minds or hands. He’d be frantic to figure out how to prolong his life at this point but Dick wasn’t worried, he’d rip his great great great grandfather limp from limb if that was what it took for the low life to stay dead. He knew that was what it would take for him. If someone managed to find all the minor weak spots and joining ligaments between his metallic hardened bones and tear him to pieces, Dick might never truly recover. Slade was similar in that it would take a close-range atomic bomb to disintegrate his body to the point where there wasn't anything to reattach to, nothing to compound off of and heal back together.

He was ready though- he’d dreamt about this time and time again. He’d find his grandfather unaware and take his time, no matter how much Dick’s stomach revolted against torture and the sound of ripping muscles and popping blood vessels. He couldn't afford to have anything but faith in his ability to follow through, especially after all the countlessly tiring hours that Slade had put into reaffirming his condition phrases and mentality. Sometimes he’d blackout for days just recovering from the phrases Slade used against him. The effort was to de-condition him and desensitize his mind to certain words and phrases but Dick felt it take a toll on his body just as much as his mind. The shakes and quivers, the sweat on his upper lip, the bone-deep exhaustion that layered on top of a short temper and ire. They’d gotten over some words at this point. Dick could remember things clearly like a certain sharp tone paired with a deep-timbered voice triggered him to stillness, wanting, needing, nothing more than to listen. Others triggered consideration of words and phrases like Blue and At Ease. They encouraged Dick to look to the authority figure before him, waiting for directions and guidance like a string that was attacked to his frontal lobe. He knew the words and he could even repeat them clearly, but he knew he needed more work because every time he heard Slade demand his soldiers to stand at ease, he’d find his gaze jerking to the man just as quickly. Some sessions left Dick waking up with no memory whatsoever, so Dick knew there was still a handful of words he needed to clear out of his system too. It was a shameful, embarrassing aspect to life that Dick never expected to have. Having PTSD attached to words that scattered his brains and reasonings so far out the window he had trouble remembering the triggering phrase or event was a feeling that made him want to burrow into the blackness of his shame and never lift his head again.

Dick sometimes couldn't fathom how a man as smart as Bruce could ever look Jason’s morals in the face and scoff. How could he not see the efficiency and methodical success that Dick did-that Jason and others did? He knew he was being harsh because even he still cringed at remembering his initial training with Slade after he’d split Jason’s face open. He’d gone through countless tomato soup cans and animal carcasses before the panic attacks subsided. It was much easier to pitch the idea than to follow through but that didn't change its efficacy. In a world that birthed people as prey, the only way to do more than survive was to become the predator.

Slade sure as hell saw it early on. He learned to spot patterns, be efficient and make money off said behaviors of others. Canceling out someone who continually offered pain and suffering to the world not only deserved to be cut down, but their absence allowed others more of a deserving life. More time with loved ones, less suffering, and fewer casualties. Dick knew Bruce was smart, he was a prodigal genius by first-world standards, but his damned ego kept him repeating his mantra of, “We must be better than them” and Dick was finding it laughable how thoroughly against other options he was. If the Dark Knight wanted to save others, then save them. No, Dick was finally starting to see it, see what almost drove Jason away from them permanently. Bruce was cradling his ego in one hand and trying to save the world with his other. The man was handicapping himself and only Slade and men like Ra's had been able to spot the self-inflicted hinderance.

Still, he couldn't believe how close he was to ending the Court of Owls. The same cult that had birthed him and ruined his life with the intent of forcing him to be their mindless heir-their conditioned legacy of brutality and scientific evolution. His skin was still vibrating, still buzzing with the same feelings that came after every successful job. Slade told him years ago that the feelings would fade, become numb, and become easier on his body but Dick was finding quite the opposite. 2 down and 2 to go. Ryland would be difficult because the public would notice the minute she disappeared from her superficial luncheons and board meetings. It would earn Bruce’s attention quickly and have them breathing down his neck before he could get to Cobb, but Dick was undeterred. 

He knew he had to exterminate them all, Cobb had caused him too much pain, too much undo suffering that Dick knew he wasn’t deserving of. Even if he did, deep down, deserve what Cobb had machinated into his life, he couldn't deny his pure unadulterated fury for the man. He didn't want to hurt at 17 and he didn't want to hurt now. Especially after finding out how intertwined Dick’s fate could have been with his brothers. Cobb had instigated his parent's murder and that landed him in Gotham’s youth corrections facility, almost overlapping with Jason’s run-in with the law as a child. Tim was even was set up for a future of high-societal crime. His parents were involved in business with over half the Court and Dick knew that no matter how much love was shared between the Drakes, Tim might have grown into an equally corrupt man to be indoctrinated into becoming an Owl. Dick tried not to think about that too much because then the nightmares usually started back up. He dreamt of himself standing with a bloodied heart in one hand while looking up at a grown Timmy, a black robe and owl mask adorning his cold hard features. 

No, Dick was certain that life would generally improve and get better with the entire Court of Owls gone forever. Dick would shoulder the blame and accusations for as long as he had to...just as long as his family made it out the other end.

Chapter 26

Notes:

Hey there!

Happy New Year! We're getting to a part that I literally wrote half the story around just so I could have this small subplot in there lol(So I've been excited about editing these chapters so I could get them out quicker)

 

 

Dick made his way along the hallways of Nanda Parbat, close to Slade’s right. The man had been thrumming with a controlled and subdued giddiness ever since Dick’s success. 2 owls gone in one fell swoop, the public was none the wiser and the involved authorities were entirely convinced that it was the fault of corrupt billionaires that were now on the run in North America. Dick’s bottom lip still throbbed in time with his heartbeat and he wondered if the marks along his throat and collarbone were as visible as they felt. He’d made sure to cover up with tactical clothing and high-collared jackets, but Slade’s eye held a knowing glint of amusement as if Dick’s efforts to cover up the evidence were just as amusing as the actual action they'd been partaking in earlier.

“It’s only a matter of time before they connect the dots,” Dick said, referring to Bruce and his brothers. He knew Ra’s and Talia were aware of the Wayne identities but wasn't eager to spread that further amongst the light of Ra’s shadows. Luthor most likely knew and Queen Bee most likely had the resources to learn so if she dug a little deeper into the connections between the Robins. Slade’s stride didn’t break as he led them back to the partition of rooms the Demon Head had allotted them, “Of course they will. The point was to buy us time, not hide the truth”

Dick snorted, “We’re buying time by hiding the truth”

Slade was dressed in his Deathstroke uniform so Dick couldn't clearly see his face but something told him he’d made the man smirk in the way that his shoulders rapidly rose and fell. They rounded the corner and Dick had to withhold the urge to groan as he spotted Klarion sitting against the door to Dick’s private rooms. Slade slowed and turned to Dick with an expectant look. Dick glared, “I didn't do anything” he defended. He stomped past the slightly amused older man and right up to Klarion. He was seconds away from snatching the well-dressed young man and throttling him for being so persistently annoying. He’d had his men ask around after any word of a young child being held captive, but they had reported back unsuccessfully. Dick wasn't convinced though, he knew Klarion was hiding something.

Klation looked up just as Dick approached. He spotted Dick’s infuriated face and glared right back. He scrambled to his feet with little grace and met Dick halfway, surprising the dark-haired man, “You’re still mean. Still in a bad mood,” Klarion spat childishly.

Dick narrowed his eyes and his ears burned, knowing Slade was watching them. He fisted his hands in Klarion’s pressed suit and swung the wraith-like figure around, slamming him back into the rock wall adjacent to his rooms, “Leave” Dick hissed. His hackles were raised in defense at finding such an unstable, unpredictable enemy waiting for him at his rooms. He was already in enemy territory by staying in Nanda Parbat as an employee of the Light, but Klarion was invading what little safe territory he’d been able to claim in their desert cave.

Klarion squeaked in surprise as his head rocked backward roughly. After a few seconds, he regained his bearings and pointedly sent a withering look up at Dick.

“Richard”

Dick turned instinctively, only to drop his hands and stumble away with his heart in his throat; feeling like an apple that kept growing and growing. Cobb stood at the end of the hallway, his suit grey and pressed to perfection. He blinked, desperately hoping for the image to disappear, but every blink only resonated until there were echoes of sounds clouding his muffled ears. He wasn’t walking but Dick’s ears wouldn't stop ringing with the small concise clicks of his polished heels, reverberating in front and behind him. His mouth fell dry and he struggled to swallow down his sudden dread.

 

Who had called him here?

Who was working against him? He thought he had more time-he-he wasn’t ready to face his grandfather so soon.

What was his grandfather’s plan? To try and force him into submission with those godawful phrases? Steal his autonomy and sense of self all over again?

 

Dick’s palms were moist with sweat but when he glanced down to wipe them away he could only stare, bug-eyed, as he spotted the smeared red across his inner hands. Panicked, he tried wiping them off on his pants but the red only smeared and spread, making its way between his fingers and into his nail beds. A panicked whine of air escaped him as nothing he did seemed to work. He tried again and again, uncaring as his palm began to redden with irritation, worsening the amount of red he was now seeing. Alarmed, he glanced back up to Cobb’s figure only to find him gone. His stomach fell through his gut and his heart beat too fast for him to feel the individual palpitations. He spun around, frantic to find the white-haired man, but he couldn't find him. He heard his footsteps, felt the familiar breeze that the door to that bright white room created-

“Renegade” Dick spun around, his forearm suddenly caught in a strong vice grip, halting him momentarily. Dick blinked, realizing there was black and orange before him... close too. Dick forced his shaky gaze upward to find Slade standing within his personal bubble, holding his arm captive. Dick glanced at his arm, realizing he was positioned to swing the bone of his forearm into someone’s temple. The move was intended to force unconsciousness, regardless of the brain damage or skull fractures. His breathing was fast, when did he start to breathe so heavily?

Dick gasped, his heart rate catching up to his own unease. He looked at his captured arm, spotting no blood along the crevices and lines of his palm. In fact, he was now wearing tactical gloves. Clean back ones that covered his fingers up to his wrist. Confusion so severe that his stomach churned, settled in deeply and Dick didn't know how to respond, “What the fu-”

Dick glanced behind himself, catching sight of an empty hallway. Slade drew his attention back with a quick squeeze. He looked up at the man, baring his confusion. Slade saw Cobb too, didn’t he? Why wasn’t he acting? Doing something? His heartbeat was too thunderous in his ears to make sense of anything else besides that single penetrative eye. That cold steel gaze that always seemed capable of locking down his body and thoughts.

“What are you seeing?” Slade intoned lowly.

Dick glanced behind himself before his paranoia urged him to peer over Slade’s shoulder as well.

Nothing.

“Apprentice” Slade barked, earning bright startled eyes. Doubt and confusion started to layer on his fear and panic, slowing his rampaging heartrate little by little; offering a mild headache instead.

“Um-I-he’s gone,” Dick said with a touch of light-headedness. Klarion giggled beside Slade, and Dick recoiled, realizing the witch was still leaning against the wall. Realization smacked Dick in the face; with shame and embarrassment attached. He snarled and lunged for the witch, but Slade’s grip caught him just in time, keeping him out of range.

“Return to your master, boy” Slade ordered lowly.

Klarion blew an air kiss to Dick who bared his teeth and snarled until his throat hurt, “Get the fuck outta' my head!” Dick lunged for Klarion again, but settled for snatching at the air just in front of his enemy's face.

Klarion giggled, “Acting like a little boy-”

Dick’s eyes widened as he took the insult as horribly as possible. He jerked and pulled against Slade, wrenching his arm until the muscles in his back and shoulder screamed with a sudden ache. Slade wretched him back towards him and re-gripped him by both wrists to better control and maneuver his flailing body, “If I have to call Queen Bee to come collect you, I very may well arrange to have you bound, powerless, and at the mercy of Renegade instead” Slade said as if he wasn’t slowly manhandling said snarling boy back a step.

Klarion glanced at Slade and froze, registering the severity of his threat. He lowered his eyes in submission but he hesitated to leave, seemingly enjoying the riled dark-haired young man in the mercenary’s clutches. He blew one more kiss at Dick before his lips seemed to move and mumble. Dick’s struggles slowed as he realized that Klarion’s form was getting foggier and foggier, like smoke was crowding into the cave and only affecting the visibility of the witch. His muscles felt weak with the shakiness from his adrenaline dropping so suddenly and he hated how easy it was for Slade to restrain him, but in retrospect,t it was probably the best decision to do so. Dick wasn’t equipped to fight Klarion at the moment. 

He watched Klarion disappear, spitefully vowing to deal with the witch somehow. He had to address the inkling that there was a hidden magical child somewhere in Nanda Parbat and find a way to overcome Klarion’s magic in a one-on-one. The witch had insulted him in a way that felt threatening but his words were so often chaotic and illogical that Dick told himself none of it was a legitimate threat to be wary of. Slade didn’t allow him to linger, dragging them inside their private rooms and slamming the door with a finality that Dick felt in between his shivers and shakes. Slade ran one hand up and down Dick’s unclothed arm while he gently guided Dick back until he found his shoulder blades kissing the rock wall of his bedroom. Slade tilted his head up to capture his attention, “Did you see William?” the man asked, “The Bat?” His up-and-down motions never ceased. Dick swallowed as he fought to stabilize himself in Slade’s constant gentle up and down motions. The minstrations and caresses felt like his skin was being rubbed raw but it still helped to keep him in the moment, scaring the quivers and trembles away from his skin. He forced his free palm backward against the tough edges of the cave wall, grasping at anything harsher than the prickling covering the insides of his mind at the moment.

Fuck! He wanted to bellow. His lips refused to stop trembling. 

“Pretty bird” Slade repeated calmly. Dick closed his eyes and forced a shaky nod. Slade’s gloved hand continued up and down Dick’s am while the other began to card through his hair, parting his dark locks like rivers of ink. Slade huffed a humorless laugh, “Now that we are down to just 2 measly owls, I think it’s time we revisit your deconditioning" 

Dick’s eyes flashed open as memories of Slade’s desensitization methods hit him full force. The man had used Cobb’s horrid conditioned phrases and conditioned words over and over again until Dick felt bile forcing its way up through his throat. Memories and sensations assaulted him too viscerally: Slade forcing him into baths and showers at odd hours. Slade forcing him to change every lightbulb in their main base so that they glowed LED light instead of their old naturally calming off-yellow. Slade saw his stricken expression and smirked. He leaned down so the slits in his mask shared Dick’s panicked quick breaths, “Don’t worry kid. I’ve got you”

After a while of forcing his unsteady knees to support him so that he could claim more of Slade’s time and touches, the man forced him to bed. He stuck around to do some menial administrative work on his laptop under the excuse that Dick was reckless and needed further supervision, but Dick appreciated his presence all the same. He felt himself drifting off to the sound of Slade’s quick light taps against the keyboard, unknowing of what his interaction with Klarion would bring.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

Slade dismissed his last group of men and leaned back. He cracked his neck and forced a heavy breath from his lungs, decompressing his tensed shoulders. He’d gotten little sleep over the last few weeks, what with his apprentice handling almost every contract Slade had commissioned and then leaping head-first into a 2 target operation against the Court of Owls. The kid was running ragged and succeeding far above expectations but that meant that Slade was forced to stay 2 steps ahead of his on-track student just as adequately. He’d gotten little rest last night as Dick had been ready to climb the walls with his bloodied fingertips. Klarion, Queen Bee’s pet witch dog was an unstable thin waif, even she would agree with that, but for some reason, he’d started pestering Dick more and more often when they were back at Nanda Parbat. Dick did a relatively good job of keeping busy and staying out of their rooms for most of the day but every now and then he’d run into the boy and the reports that Slade received from his own men, and Ra’s shadows, had always been tension-filled, but resolved and avoided…until now. The witch had gone one step further and done more than pester his heir. He’d invaded his mind and offered unsettling allusions. 

He knew his boy still suffered from hallucinations from time to time. It was an unavoidable result of his torture and brainwashing at the hands of the Court. It was often controlled and subdued, not really a problem, unless the boy proved to be low on electrum and drugging himself into biological submission, or if he was severely wounded or sleep deprived the boy’s mind proved fruitful in playing tricks on himself.

The pathetic mutt of a witch had shown Dick something, most likely Cobb, but possibly Batman, and it had triggered his bird of prey. The boy had gone from enraged to pathetically frozen, and then antsy, unable to sleep or do much else besides clutch at Slade and stare off into space. Luckily, Slade had experience with his boy in different states of inaction, but it did mean that he was stuck catching up on administrative work and anything else easily done on the computer while his dark-haired weapon clutched any part of him he could. Always desperate for physical touch and intimate validation, Slade had come to learn very well how to accommodate Dick when the situation called for it. He’d had plenty of shirts gripped and shredded by the boy’s tight grip alone. On good days, he proved cheerful and glued to Slade’s side, and on bad days, Slade’s separation from the boy spiraled him further and further into the same mentality that Cobb tried to accrue in his grandson. He had no reason to complain as he and the boy had years and years to overcome this debilitating weakness, but at the moment, it only proved to strengthen their bond. Slade’s ability to stay by the boy’s side and withstand his violent whirlwind temper tantrums proved to the boy's subconscious that his master could whether him; was deserving of him at his best and worst. 

Eventually, Slade was able to detach himself from the boy as he slipped past sleepiness right into exhaustion. His limp fingers were unable to maintain their grasp over Slade’s wrist. His lips were slightly parted to counter his clogged nose and watery eyes but Slade merely positioned the boy on his side for better breathing and tightened the blankets, knowing that the kid appreciated the feeling in hugs. He’d ordered the kid’s private team to go about their regular routines without the boy so that he’d be able to sleep in and recuperate with the privacy that Slade very rarely allotted him. The kid may love the intimacy that a lack of privacy implied between friends and family but Slade knew the kid well enough to know he preferred a few minutes to collect his thoughts every now and then. Slade’s foreboding presence was not only an impossibility for the boy to ignore, but also a distracting one at times. The kid might not be consciously grateful for Slade’s forethought but he’d at least be in a more amicable mood when they met later for sparring.

Dick had been doing better and Slade was begrudging to admit that it was connected to his acknowledgment of Dick’s decisiveness against acting against his brothers. His bird of prey had been clear in defining who fell under his berth of protection. The kid had surprised him, which delighted Slade and aggravated him to no end, but Slade's subtle admission to his little bird seemed to have calmed things between them, healing a pathway for Dick to accept his teachings and guiding hand even more fervently. The kid had always been a sponge, he’d seen it as far back as his first few years as the only Robin at Batman’s side. The Boy Wonder was incapable of not picking up skills, not adapting in ways that ensured his innate survival, better than any other kid his age, better than most adults even. He soaked up names and places, skills and weapon techniques….it had Slade physically salivating at the chance to permeate the kid’s mental defenses-to lay claim to the potential the kid was overflowing with. Every day got him closer to that satisfied feeling and Slade was rolling in the pride and pleasure he’d brought himself. Dick reacted to certain nods or small gestures just the way Slade would want. Dick reflected his environment almost perfectly to Slade’s liking, whether it be a solid imposing quiet figure at his right side or as a raging weapon of chaos that inflated Slade’s reputation as being the only one to handle him adequately. Dick's adaptability didn't stop at Slade, so seeing the kid twist and turn himself into different people and animals to meet their ever-changing goal delighted something deep dark in Slade's dark mentality.

He was more than pleased to be able to claim and ownership over the being who’d championed Robin and Nightwing-even Renegade, the dark imposing man. The indomitable force, heir to Deathstroke the Terminator, the unkillable bird of prey…the list of titles and images the boy invoked could be listed on and on in a 100 different ways…and they each got Slade’s blood pumping just as thoroughly. 

He shoved his indulgent thoughts aside and pushed himself to his feet. A quick glance at the floor of Dick’s private rooms told Slade the kid had slept in and most likely rushed out to attend to his daily duties. It was nearing the end of the day and Slade hadn’t even seen the kid’s team head out for their usual lunch in the small peasant town at the bottom of the mountain. He made sure his mask was in place before he exited his work room and meandered down the hallway, offering a quick glance at the spot Klarion had forced his way into Dick’s mind the other day. He was glad that nothing too serious had come to pass but he’d have to make sure to address the increasing problem with Queen Bee. She was becoming a greater nuisance than Slade wanted to acknowledge. She had the balls to attack him through his heir and was now allowing her magical rat to pester his student into dangerous territories. Slade tried not to push the boy into that kind of mental landscape unless they were thoroughly locked away and well equipped to handle the concequences. 

He allowed his gaze to linger around the hallways as he went in search of his student. He’d let Dick have his space for more than a day and desired the boy back under his thumb, a simple dinner together would sate that- even if the boy’s measly team attended with him. As he passed, he registered nameless shadows and shadows-in-training halt and offer him bows of respect. Slade knew that guests of the Demon Head didn’t warrant such respect and acknowledgment, it was Deathstroke the Terminator that did. A few seemed to be in a rush and were jogging by with equipment or muttering to each other, antsy for Slade to walk past so they could be on their way. Slade had seen it a handful of times before, the anxiety and pressure that the Demon Head exuded onto his pupils and army. 

Slade continued on his way but noticed that his student wasn’t in any of the nearby public rooms like the cafeteria, for mass trainees, or the common sparring rooms. He brought his finger to the side of his mask and switched communicator lines, “Sir?” Falcon responded on the first beep.

“Where are you?” 

“Reviewing inventory with the men, Sir” she replied, “Out back on the landing pad”

Slade disconnected and made his way to them. The back of the mountain had a large flat cliff-like structure. Dick had often referred to it as the lion king cliff, but it was a natural rock formation that allowed small aircrafts and carriers to land without having to make the entire trek of the mountainside. Slade found them easily enough and confirmed that Falcon and Eerie were overseeing Wildcat and other spare soldiers. Most men were crouched above partially opened crates of dried and packed food and a few disassembled weapons cases like ammunition and sniper holsters. Slade scanned the open space as the cooling desert night sent a nasty chill to combat the lingering heat from earlier that day. He didn't spot Dick. Without preamble, he saddled up beside Falcon who dipped her head politely, “Where is Renegade?” Slade inquired as he gazed around at the few men he’d brought back to the Demon Head’s base.

Falcon froze from where she’d been hastily scanning a list of the opened boxed contents, “Sir?”

Slade stared her down, not in the mood to repeat himself. She glanced around, “We-uh-I haven't seen him today, Sir. We assumed he'd been with you all day”

Slade didn’t like that one bit. Falcon glanced at Eerie and they instantly picked up on something being amiss. Slade rolled his shoulders before fixing her with a look, “Find him. Now”

Slade strode away and instantly made his way back to his private rooms, attempting to contact Dick through the multiple comm lines they had open. Along the way, Slade spotted another handful of young men scurrying along the hallways, “Just shut it down for now” one man said in frustration, “Don’t try fixing it if you can't diagnose the problem for sure”

Slade stepped past them and into his rooms with ease. He set himself down at his desk and instantly logged into the security review he’d set around his heir’s room. Slade knew the kid would be furious if he knew how many different surveillance platforms he had watching his student, but Slade couldn't care less for the boy's pickiness when they were long-term guests of a friendly enemy. The boy most likely assumed that Slade only had the standard camera and microphone posted around the room to ensure no one invaded their privacy while guests; Slade had 4... not including the ones layered throughout the rock of Nanda Parbat. He pulled up the camera that was positioned closest to Dick’s bed and dragged the recording tab along until the timestamp said he’d left the boy to his own unconsciousness. Slade hit play and leaned back, tapping a finger against his masked temple. The green-lit nighttime footage confirmed the boy had stayed asleep, occasional toss and turns invading his limp form. It was at 3 am when things got interesting. Slade leaned forward and hit pause the moment the boy’s hair ruffled strangely. He replayed the 6-second scene 3 times before confirming the footage wasn’t faux or altered. The top of his dark ruffled hair moved down, almost as if he’d gotten smaller or shorter. Slade narrowed his attention on the footage and allowed it to play through. Things did not improve.

Over the next 2 hours, Slade watched his apprentice slowly, minusculely inch down and down into his bed sheets until the top of his disappeared. Slade wouldn't have assumed something strange if it weren't for the tented outline of his feet not moving an inch the entire footage. Slade leaned in and watched the laptop screen closely. Dick appeared to shrink and shrink. For 30 minutes, the boy lay still, not moving an inch, when suddenly his form twitched beneath his blankets. A slightly thinner, slightly leaner hand shot out and curled around his displaced pillow, dragging it in closer to his head. The boy seemed to become agitated and fed up with all his own movements and uncomfortableness. The boy sat up and scrunched his nose in a disgruntled manner. Slade tensed in agitation as he spotted a much smaller dark-haired boy in Dick’s stead. The boy rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned widely in the dark. He ran a familiar hand through his hair and tried to scoot himself back up and lay down in a way that didn’t strain his back. Suddenly, the boy shot up again but his lips were slightly parted and his eyes were wide in a way that told Slade he was certain he wasn't in his own bed. The kid slapped his hands down and felt the comforter spreadsheet beneath him, rubbing it between his fingers and palm. His dark head whipped around, trying to spot anything in the dark, but Slade knew how dark and desolate the Demon Head's cave could appear to those without enhanced sight or night vision.

Slade gritted his teeth and fisted his hands tightly as the raven-haired boy shoved the sheets away and scrambled from the bed. The kid tried to stick his feet out but it appeared as if something black entangled his feet and robbed him of his mobility. The kid went tumbling to the hard floor and woke him up even more. The kid shoved himself to his feet and whipped around, desperate for answers or clues. The kid’s innate and Bat-taught instincts had him trying to peer at where he thought the corners of the room were, looking for cameras or lights. The kid couldn't spot any but Slade was given a clear view of his bewildered, frightened face. It was Dick, there was no way Slade would ever mistake that slim face, youthful bright-eyed look, except the last time he’d seen this exact look and expression Dick had been 13-maybe 14 years old. Slade steeled himself so as not to react before he knew what had happened, forcing himself to allow the footage to continue uninterrupted. 

Dick grasped at the tangle of cloth and bedsheets around his ankles, realizing it was pants of some sort. Dick yanked them off with a confounded expression, picking at his shirt after realizing how strangely baggy and oversized it was. It looked like an XL on a sized S person but Slade knew that this version of his little bird wore that shirt in a way that robbed his biceps and chest of any additional oxygen. Despite the shocking situation, Slade could not help but smirk over the difference between the original Robin and the Renegade Slade had made.

He watched as Dick grappled around in the dark, finally finding a small tool bag, and in it, a small wrist light and a pocket knife. It was a simple tool Dick found in Slade’s belongings and snagged it for when he did any tech work or modifications on Slade’s robots back at their North American home base. The kid used it to scan his surroundings and turned around and around, nearly hyperventilating. Slade frowned, displeased at the kid’s lack of decorum. Sometimes he forgot how loose children could be in their emotional expressions. How easily they could snowball and fall apart or hold themselves together with bizarre coping mechanisms.

Eventually, the kid seemed to get a better grip on himself and reached for the oversized pants again. Slade watched in amusement as the kid threw himself onto his butt to pull the black leggings back onto his thin narrow legs. Once the kid had them on, looking more like mismatched over-sized Halloween pants than actual sleep pants, he reached for the pocket knife and sawed through the leftovers, turning them into actual pants for himself. Slade inappropriately, for the direness of the situation, found himself leaning back, more interested in where this would go-how his transformed student had succeeded in escaping the League of Assassins.

The kid held the baggy waist of the pants in one hand before he reached out for the tool bag again. The kid’s shoulders tightened and he withdrew a small pack of zip ties. Slade rolled his eyes over the kid's luck. Even when physically and mentally afflicted, Dick found a way to set himself up for success. Dick reached behind himself and grasped a bundle of the clothing a fist, tightening it until it fit his slim hips. He zip tied the clothing tightly before applying the same crude fitting methods to his oversized shirt. Slade watched as Dick recentered himself and struggled around the room, barefoot and hardly clothed until he found the handles to his room. The kid pulled just enough to gaze outside before he slammed it shut. Slade smirked, the kid must have recognized Nanda Parbat. He knew the Bat had brought the kid all over the world as Robin, but at 14, to know the place so quickly was impressive.

Dick seemed to question what he was doing in Nanda Parbat and gazed around his dark room again, wondering if he was truly a captive. Slade saw the kid make his way back to the bed and find his duffle bag. Unaware, Dick began to dig through his own belongings, tossing aside shirts, shorts, and deodorant. Slade was just about ready to speed through the end of the footage when Dick pulled something from the bottom of his bag, making the boy freeze. Slade saw the top of the object glint in Dick’s small flashlight before the boy shined the object in front of him directly, illuminating the S-shaped throwing dagger. 

Slade smirked, not realizing Dick had kept Slade’s prototype of a projectile. It had been years since Slade designed it and hadn’t made it his priority amidst rescuing Dick and then training him. It made something in Slade’s chest clench at seeing that the boy carried one of them around still. Younger Dick was frozen with what Slade assumed was shock or fear. Realizing how this most likely went, Slade sped through the rest of the footage. There was another 10 minutes of Dick digging around through the pitch black with a single light before he seemed to give up and decide to take his chances outside again. Slade rolled his eyes, for all the smarts that Robin was gifted with, the kid sure could be thick at times. What child would assume they stood a safer chance out in the open instead of safe and tucked away? He pushed himself to his feet and exited his room, instantly finding a shadow walking by. He stopped the man, most likely in his 30s, “Inform your master I need to speak with him. There’s a young boy loose in the mountain and he needs to be caught immediately, not harmed” Slade ended with a warning.

The man nodded calmly and dipped his head, “We’re working to track him down now, Sir”

Slade crossed his arms, unwilling to show his shock over the boy already having been caught to some extent, “Did he escape the mountain? How were you alerted to his presence?”

The man seemed unsure, as if Slade’s questions were confusing him, “Umm the transport tubes…” he trailed off like that would be enough of an explanation. Slade stared him down and the man hurried to explain, “We were notified that an unauthorized user hacked our transport tubes early this morning and we’ve been working to fix the damages since”

Slads stilled as he realized that Dick had actually escaped. The boy was obviously transformed, mentally regressed, frantically fearful, and now out in the wild, “You’re sure it was the boy I’m referring to?”

The man nodded uncertainly, “I believe so, Sir. We have clear footage of a boy without shoes hacking the transport tubes around 5 am. We have a team working to confirm how he entered the mountain undetected. We’ve been unable to follow him because he set the limits to well above the maximum wattage and it’s burned out the lithium core”

Slade ground his teeth, resisting the urge to strangle the messenger, “Where is Al Ghul?” he demanded.

_____________________________________________________________________________

 

“Are you absolutely certain?” Ra’s asked seriously. Slade glowered, furious that he was being asked to repeat events like some child being interrogated by the much better-equipped adults. Ra’s crossed his arms, “I am merely checking, mercenary. It would not be beneficial for us to be anything but prudent if this involves something the Light, the Court, and the Justice League have a stake and vested interest in”

Slade nearly snapped. He did not need an explanation, “You think I don’t know the significance of my apprentice?”

He was seconds away from launching into a tirade against the Demon Head when Queen Bee meandered in, her heels clicking leisurely, “What's this?” she inquired. She took in Slade’s tense furious position across the table from Ra’s. Slade was seconds from spinning on the woman when Ra’s spoke, “Your lack of decorum” he answered simply.

She recoiled in what could only be described as polite, “Excuse me?”

Slade pushed off from where he’d been hunched over the table, “You and your miscreant pets have gone too far woman” he snapped.

She narrowed her eyes at his spitting tone but Ra’s agreed, “Deathstroke is correct” he nodded, sitting forward, “Klarion is suspected to have gone too far this time Tazzala” Her eyes went comically wide at the use of her birth name, “Your magic pet has seemingly turned Renegade into a child and now he is estimated to be somewhere between here and the East Coast”

Queen Bee didn’t respond at first, her shoulders were stiff and she seemed to be taking in the information presented. Her full lips were thinned and her cheeks hollowed. The lines surrounding her collarbone were pronounced as well, “I will summon him now” she said stiffly.

Slade kept his single steely eye on her while he straightened up, pulled out a single chair, and lowered himself into it. He leaned back and crossed his arms as the loud abrasive sounds echoed loudly, emphasizing the tension resonating in the room. She swallowed stiffly, unwilling to show her fear. This was just the excuse, just the event he needed to take action against her, weakening the Light even before he and his heir were ready to let the Justice League take action against them. 

It didn’t take long for Klarion to materialize, similar to how he escaped the previous night, vanishing in the fading embrace of sudden winds and blinks. He spotted Ra’s Al Ghul first, echoing his confusion. Next, he spotted Slade and his confusion doubled down in panic-laced fear. His gulp was audible and he tried back peddling, “Tattletale, roof toof” he muttered with wide eyes. His heel stepped onto Queen Bee’s layered laces at her feet and he blinked, jerking his head to her. Relief overwhelmed his features and within seconds he was displaying a whole new set of emotions, “My Queen” he cried out, pulling the word long.

“Silence” she snapped. He did so immediately, sending jittery glances at Slade. She leaned in, “Explain yourself Klarion” she demanded lowly. His lips parted but she spoke over him, familiar with his nonsensical attempts to pull and draw attention elsewhere, “What did you do to Reneade? When and how?” she specified.

He frowned and backed up so he wasn't stepping on the overflowing lace from her sheer gown, “I dunno…” he dragged his foot against the nonexistent dirt at their feet. Queen Bee took a single step forward and that was all it took for his hands to fly up, “Sorry!" he squeaked. With his head bowed, he began to mutter irrelevant things he’d noticed Renegade do or say, referencing his routines and schedules. The missions he’d gone on and the clothing he preferred to wear, “And we’re the same, really” he said, lifting his head slightly. He didn't see the welcome he desired so he dropped his gaze again, “He’s so nice and friendly to his team and the village children, but then he snaps and turns and spins and spits and then he’s so mean to everyone else. It’s fun to be whoever you want whenever you want and Renee and I are the same…the same emotions get boring-”

“Are you implying that the alternating emotions my student has exhibited are due to the same mental weaknesses that afflict your feeble mind?” Slade asked deadly, lowly. 

Ra’s held up a hand, “Deathstroke, please. Interrogating the boy will be difficult enough without your brutal methods”

Klarion seemed to take Ra’s injection as a form of support and continued, “He didn’t like me-didnt want to spend time with me, and then I realized he wanted someone to be mean back to him. He smiles when he fights. So I was…mean, I mean” he giggled at his accidental wordplay, “But he didn't like that either, but then it was too fun and he always looks me in the eyes when we fight and argue and it was just a game!” he suddenly complained. He lifted his head petulantly to Queen Bee, “I didn't mean anything by it, but he’s stronger than me and pushed me so I pushed back….magically”

He twirled the toe of his polished shoe in the dirt and continued to avoid eye contact.

Queen Bee stepped forward and lightly pet his cheek, earning his unblinking attention, “What did you do to the assassin Klarion?” she asked softly. He seemed ignorant of the sharp deadly way her lips and eyes were focused on him, more in tune and desperate for the false softness of her tone, “He called me a kid and said I was childish so I did it back”

He frowned like he was justified and Queen Bee dropped his face, “You de-aged the young man?” a nod, “How? Through what means?”

Slade dropped his crossed arms but Queen Bee held up a finger of silence and maintained her gaze with the witch, “Did you poison him with something or did you enchant him?”

Klarion smiled darkly and Queen Bee sighed. She turned from him to address the others, “Your student has been epoch regressed” she stated like it was a simply understood term. To prevent any further arguments that the bulging, aggrieved mercenary seemed eager for, Ra’s stood up, “Explaination is required” he said, “When will this wear off and what are the side effects?”

She crossed her arms in return, “The situation would be a simple one if the boy had been poisoned with enchanted objects or items, his digestion would determine the length of the magical effects, but Klarion has enchanted him verbally” she motioned to the skittish witch behind her, “This means that the magical effects will hold until either the original circumstances are repeated or the magical origin pointed is exterminated”

Slade casually reached over his shoulder and withdrew a sheathed long bow katana, “Simple enough” he said with a nod to Queen Bee. Klarion squealed pitifully and disappeared in a cartoonish poof of smoke, reappearing across the room and nearer the room’s doors. Queen Bee sighed like she was now suffering a headache, “Klarion” she snapped, “Stay” she ordered like a dog. She turend on Deathstroke, “You will not execute my underlings” She spat.

Slade watched her with a stern, narrowed eye, suddenly interested in doing so to prove that she would not deliver orders to him.

“Alright,” Ra’s aquised, “So we must retrieve the boy and do what? Replicate whatever Klarion has done to him?”

Queen Bee’s gaze slid to the shorter black-haired man, “Precisely. It’s a few words that must be spoken in relatively close proximity, but the boy will revert with minimal damage”

Slade snarled, gripping his sword, "Define damage?”

She sneered, “Your pet weapon will be fine. The boy is most likely suffering from memory issues at the moment, but that will pass when he is returned to his natural state of reality”

Slade nodded and looked to Ra’s who also nodded, “If he is under the mindset that he is truly a child again, that makes sense as to why he fled as he did”

Queen Bee leered, “You are his master are you not? Call the welp back” she challenged. Slade was seconds away from removing her head from her long neck.

Ra’s narrowed his eyes as she persisted in her attitude, “The boy has immense technological experience for one his age. The Batman put his full weight and backing into his first Robin, so as much as I believe Redrobin’s mind is the more deserving amongst his collection of orphans, Richard Grayson has a formidable mind and body that cannot be ignored. To do so would lead to failure” He took his seat at the table again as tension abated slightly, “He has full awareness of the zeta transport operations and mechanics that the Justice league uses. The escape method he utilized is merely a prototype replica that we save for emergencies, so it is unsurprising that the boy found it and was able to operate it adequately. He even adjusted the settings so no one would be able to follow without significant delay. I do have my men working to encrypt the GPS tracking ping that the motherboard should automatically be collecting. In the meantime, you’ll need to teleport the mercenary to North America as we both agree the boy most likely ran back to the Bat, clearly unaware of his… de-aged status”

“He’s like 12” Klarion giggled like he was referencing a great joke. Queen Bee silenced him with another sharp look but Slade jumped on that, “I suggest you coddle the welp while you can” Slade sheathed his sword, “When I return with my corrected apprentice, that magical rat will be in more danger than the men on my contracted list”

Queen Bee’s lips pursed at the blatant threat, “You dare-”

“He is correct to point this out” Ra’s stated, “He has been unable to serve as an exemplary spy in the Wayne household and has offered more inconvenience than support. When Renegade is secured and safe with the Terminator, this will need to be addressed”

She rolled her shoulders back in defiance, “More order is required but I will not allow some contracted employee” she sneered the word at Slade, “To dictate my underlings”

Ra’s dipped his head, “Agreed, but” his voice hardened in seconds, “This decision is coming from a ranking member of your precious Light” he sneered the word right back, “And your looseness in how I’ve seen Klarion and Psimon utilized are calling many things into question, especially now that it appears your underlings are acting under their own will and assumptions” he dragged his judging green gaze up and down her figure, “Regardless of your authority over them”

Her upper lip curled back almost like she was imitating a furious house cat. She whipped round sharply and stomped over to Klarion who was huddled across the room, one hand clutched against the door handle. Without a word, she snatched up a handful of his greased-back dark hair and yanked him closer to her. She dragged him across the room and threw him at Deathstroke’s feet, uncaring of his whimpers and pleas. 

Slade leaned down onto one knee and grinned maliciously at the quivering young man, “Are you ready to put that mischievous mouth to use?” he asked dangerously. 

“Where to, mercenary?” 

Slade kept his gaze firmly set on the twitching, nervous young man at his feet, “New York..unless you have a way to teleport me directly to Batman?” he asked, knowing that wouldn’t be a possibility.

She glared, fully aware that he was asking so that she could claim inability to fulfill the request. She huffed a smirk, “I thought so”

He glanced back at Ra’s and stood, menacingly cracking his neck and shoulders in one swift roll, “New York will be fine. I have a base nearby that I’ll need to pick up some spare men and supplies at before confronting the Bat”

“You suspect the child has already gotten to him? That quickly?” Ra’s inquired.

Slade shrugged, “Most likely. The kid is scared out of his mind and desperate. Assumed you kidnapped him-so he’ll be rushing in the opposite direction. Following his tracks is nearly pointless. I find the bat. I find him”

“Very well”

Slade looked over his shoulder to see Ra’s. The Demon's Head made eye contact before nodding to Queen Bee at Slade’s front. She nodded but her agitation was palpable. She kept her chin high but looked down to Klarion at their feet. Her eyes were lidded with quiet furry, “Begin” was all she ordered. Klarion swallowed heavily but nodded. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dick jogged down the road with his hood up. He still had no idea what was going on and why; his pulse had dropped below erratic since he’d woken up in someone else’s bed in Nanda Parbat. The room had been pitch black with duffle bags and weapons scattered all over the floor. Dick still couldn't get the smell out of his nose, distinctly someone else layered on top of the smell of a cleaned gym and something reminiscent of mint gum. He’d been thrown into someone else’s bed and even dressed in their clothing. Dick knew he was screwed the moment he saw Nanda Parbat. He couldn't remember getting kidnapped by Ra’s, or any Shadows, but was really worried that he couldn't think of a reason why he'd be there alone. Ra’s always seemed to dislike him, as if Batman getting a Robin is why he stayed away from Ra’s Al Ghul and his teachings. Bruce had explained long ago that he learned early on what kind of devotion Ra's desired from his followers.

Dick was just glad to find that the zeta tubes Bruce suspected Ra’s copied were still there. He grabbed what he could, refitted the stranger’s clothing, and got the hell out of there, setting the settings to 13% above what the League’s own zeta tube settings should never stray above, hoping to deter anyone from catching up to him. 

He had more questions than answers but he knew that as long as he got back to B, everything would be fine. Batman would fill him in, yell at him, and then apologize, bench him for a week, and then things would be normal again. He shouldered past someone on the sidewalk. The man he squeezed past made a comment about Batman and Redhood in the papers and Dick couldn't stop the turn of his head, Who the hell was Redhood? Dick had never heard of him but his kidnapping, coupled with his obvious ignorance as to what was going on with the League, made his stomach swirl with unease. He glanced up for the millionth time, spotting the Bat symbol in the sky. He’d exited from the Zeta tubes into New York, hitched a train south, and slowly made his way closer to Downtown until he could spot the Bat symbol that Bab’s dad always put out when he was patrolling or in need of detective help. Dusk was falling and it made the foggy yellow and black symbol more clear with every passing glance, giving Dick more renewed hope and energy to keep going.

He knew Batman was probably already on patrol so all he had to do was flicker the light to get his attention. His stomach dropped through his pelvis the moment the thought occurred to him, What if B is back in Nanda Parbat? What if he came to rescue me? What if he was also kidnapped? 

Dick was shoved forward slightly as the hustle and bustle around him continued. He shook his head, realizing that he couldn't panic in the middle of downtown Gotham. He had to keep on with his plan and if Batman didn't show up then he’d go to Commissioner Gordon and explain. He could snag some store-bought Robin costume if he had to confront the police commissioner himself. He glanced up once more, seeing the Bat signal still in place at least 4 blocks north. He was getting closer. He knew the building it was on like the back of his hand, Dick could scale it in less than 9 minutes; Bruce made sure. Almost there.

 

Chapter 27

Notes:

Hey there! New ch here

 

 

Damian growled as he threw his feet over the dividing brick wall of the rooftop. He threw his upper body forward in a tuck-in roll before using the momentum in his thighs to push him forward. He leaped over to the next building, absentmindedly grateful for Gotham’s thin alleyways. When stopping a mugging though, it proved to be incredibly inconvenient and difficult to take someone down while keeping a victim out of harm’s way. Damian could chock more than half of his post-patrol bruises up to being thrown backward into alleyway walls, being shoved backward too strongly, underestimating the unobstructed space at his back; and so on.

“Are you almost there?” Drake asked over comms. Damian sneered on instinct and finished another jump. He paused to catch his breath, “I’m 2 blocks away”

“Got it, radio in if you need help. Batman is 5 minutes south of you”

Damian didn’t respond. They’d gotten strange reports of the Bat signal being flashed in morse code about 20 minutes ago. An SOS. Batman had wanted to respond immediately as Commissioner Gordon was still in the hospital and Redhood’s location confirmed he was in Bludhaven, leaving them all unaware of who would be messing with their bright skylight. Robin was the closest to the downtown signal since Batgirl was off duty that particular night. Batgirl had been covering Gotham’s streets solo while Batman and his Robins had been on and off missions and rendezvous with Slade. She was taking a much-needed respite and visiting with her father after their most recent mission, earning a rare no radio/contact allowance from Batman for a day or two.

Damian knew he was still suffering from being viewed as the youngest member of his family, but it irked him to no end that their behavior didn't reflect that of what a legal adult should warrant. He would throttle someone if they still acted this way when he was 20 or 25. A sudden pang of irony hit him as he realized that would be when he was in Richard's place, Richard’s age. Damian forced himself to refocus and make the last big jump required. The building in mind was closely centered to 2 other skyscrapers, making the rooftop feel abnormally large. Damian flipped and leaped, consciously tucking his feet where appropriate, and pointing his fingers and toes when needed. When he landed on the rooftop of his destination, he rounded a tall isolated bricking square that was centered in front of him. It was no bigger than a public toilet for concerts and was most likely the rooftop entrance before he spotted the Bat signal….and a boy.

Damian halted, unprepared to find a young boy. He was crouched and fiddling with the bottom of the large mega light, connecting and reconnecting certain wires to force the light flashes. Damian could easily spot his profile and the back of his figure, but the boy wasn’t even dressed like he was off the streets. His dark short hair was crumpled and mashed with sweat and grime, but his clothing was something out of a war movie. His large t-shirt was bunched in the back and the short sleeves were almost long sleeves on him. His pants were worse, jaggedly cut off at the ankles and zip-tied at the small of his back.

Damian glanced around, spotting no one with the boy. He decided to approach but first placed a finger to his ear, “Redrobin, send Batman now. It’s not an emergency yet, but there is a young boy here who appears to be poorly dressed and unkempt”

Drake's voice came across, “What?” he balked. 

Damian responded, “He is messing with the light like he knows what he’s doing. He looks like a kidnapping victim, very thin”

“Really?”

Damian nodded, remembering Drake couldn’t see him, “It reminds me of how Richard and Father re-tell the story of Todd stealing the Batmobile tires”

Drake made a sound, “The fuck…Ok, I’ll message Bruce and have him meet you there asap. Approach and see what you can learn, especially if the kid’s alone”

Damian kept his comm on and approached the boy. He allowed his footsteps to land heavier, startling the boy. The kid froze before spinning around, although Damian noted that the kid turned swiftly from his crouch into a slightly upright, bent position, almost similar to how the other Robins were trained when they had no formal combat experience. The boy’s arms were raised in front of his chest and his chapped lips were thinned but the moment the boy registered his shadowy figure, he dropped his arms and smiled wide, “Jason!”

Damian recoiled, “What?”

“What?” Drake's voice echoed in his ear.

The boy smiled and dropped his hands, “I know, I know, no names in the field, but if you haven’t noticed” he gestured to himself, “A teeny bit of an emergency” he smirked, “Kind of an emergency” he said, walking forward. The dark-haired messy boy started forward but stopped after only 2 steps. He froze, halting insecurely. His fingers twitched and his lips thinned. His wide blue eyes flashed against the occasional lights of the rooftop and the mega light, highlighting the natural brightness of the shade.

He took a step back and Damian realized for the first time that he wore vans with the security tag still on the left shoe. The boy stepped back further and crouched, falling back into a basic defensive position. His back was straight and his knees were bent, forcing most of the weight onto his back foot, “You’re not Jay” the boy said seriously.

Damian gaped, “I know that!” he spat.

The boy froze before looking around, “But you’re dressed as Robin”

Damian crossed his arms, “Because I am Robin” he narrowed his eyes at the boy, “Who are you? How do you know the name Jason?”

Damian didn’t like that the boy knew there was a connection between Robin and Jason, but wasn’t about to give away more information on his family. Instead, the boy pulled his lips back and snarled, “Don’t turn this around on me. You aren't Robin. What’s going on?”

The boy demanded in such a fierce affirmative way that Damian felt himself pausing, wondering if there was any credit to the boy’s confusion. He obviously knew that Todd had been Robin at some point. Had he been sent to them with faulty information? Damian’s brow furrowed when he felt Batman drop down behind him. He turned to address his father when the boy called out, “B!”

Damian whipped around, the demand for how he knew that nickname on his lips, but Batman’s voice made him halt, “Dick?”

Damian whipped back around, prepared for his neck to fly off his shoulders at the severe whiplash he had become victim to, “What?”

“What?!” Tim’s voice echoed in his ear.

The boy rushed past Damian and threw himself at Batman, his thin arms barely wrapping around the broad armored back. The Dark Knight caught the boy and looked frozen with disbelief. He looked to Damian before he seemed worried the boy would disappear and he snapped his head back down to the young, lithe boy, “Dick?” he breathed in disbelief.

Dick looked up at Batman with a hurt expression, “It’s me, B” he said earnestly, “I'm so glad you're here. What happened?”

Batman gripped Dick’s arms and had him take a step back, missing the slight hurt that flashed over the boy's face at the separation, “I should be asking that of you”

Dick nodded in understanding, “I really don’t know, I thought you could explain that. I woke up in the League of Shadows” Bruce recoiled and Dick nodded, “I know! I was in Nanda Parbat!” he exclaimed, “I can't remember what happened or how I got there but they still had that zeta tube replica Ra's had his shadows steal. So I sabotaged that and flashed back here and-” Dick gulped in a breath, realizing his rant and plummeting adrenaline had robbed him of his breath. He glanced back at Damian before looking up at Bruce, “What’s going on B?”

Batman stared down at Dick and seemed hesitant…still. Damian wouldn't describe it as frozen because he’d never seen the man act so, but he’d never seen him this way in the field. He was studying the boy with a desperate intensity that seemed to be conveyed through the tightness in his jaw and the way his gloved hands itched to clasp the boy tighter. Dick seemed to pick up on the strange stillness of the Bat and glanced up at him with a mixture of worry and confusion. He took a step back and scanned Bruce's masked face, looking him over for injuries or something amiss, but as Dick scanned Batman’s dark armored suit, his gaze seemed to fixate on things…small things that Damian wasn’t sure why they caused such strife-but they did.

Dick took a step back..and then another and on his 3rd, Bruce’s muscles tensed like he was prepping the snatch the boy up again. Dick read his movements as quickly as Damian did and Damian found himself astonished when the boy threw his head and shoulders backward into a handstand-based flip. The boy shoved aggressively against his hands and then his thighs until he was back against the large megalight across the rooftop. His breathing was beginning to pick up and his fists were clenched. He glanced between Damian and Bruce, “You’re not Batman” he accused.

Damian jerked and spun to Bruce, “What is this?” he hissed, “You cannot possibly mean this is Dick-Richard”

In his periphery, he saw the boy jerk in response. Batman nodded grimly, “This may be a clone or an allusion, but this is an exact replica of Dick as a child”

“I’m not a clone!” the boy shouted angrily.

Damian looked back at the boy, “I am Robin and this is Batman” he said firmly, “State your name and why you’ve been flashing this call signal”

The boy crossed his arms haughtily, “State your name” he demanded back. Batman’s breath hitched but a glance in his direction showed the man to be as stoic as ever.

“Where’s the real Batman?!” The boy demanded, his voice cracking. Damian watched him closely. He was shivering violently in the high winds of the rooftop and his chapped lips and dried skin emphasized his poor condition. 

“We aren’t getting anywhere with this” Damian huffed.

“It's my uniform” Bruce intoned lowly. Damian looked at him, “I’ve made changes over the years, added more armor and padding, and accessories; he can tell”

The boy crossed his arms, “Duh-I can tell the real Batman from a phony any day. You’re way older too!”

That earned a visible reaction from Batman. Damian clenched his fists, unable to stomach much more, “What is your name?” Damian demanded. The boy froze and his gaze twitched around the rooftop, realizing he was now cornered. After a moment he swallowed, “Dick” he said much more quietly than his previous demands.

Damian didn’t allow his mind o run rampant with the theories as to why a young boy claiming his brother’s nickname and wearing his childhood face was suddenly accusing them of not being Batman and Robin, “Dick, you will come with us and we will figure out what’s going on-”

Damian didn’t even finish before the boy’s eyes flew wide and he started sprinting across the roof, around Robin and Batman. Damian cursed as the boy cut to his right and veered around the tall brick rooftop access door. Damian lunged around to cut him off but backpedaled over not seeing the boy. It was a thin structure, about 4 feet wide and 7 feet tall, only big enough to house some of the stairs and the door to transition someone from inside to out. Where did he go?

“Robin!” Batman barked. Damian whipped around but Batman’s tone was different and he suddenly found himself questioning if that command was for him or for the boy who assumed Robin should be Jason. He turned to look but his senses screamed at him from the sky. He tensed and looked up to find the boy throwing himself over the top of the rooftop access entrance and over Damian’s head. He threw himself after the boy. They both fell into a tuck and roll, and the movement was reflectively similar, almost catching Damian off guard. 

The boy tried to escape to the furthest right of the building where a manual fire escape was situated, but a grapple hook suddenly jammed into the roof at the boy's feet, causing him to stutter to a stop. Batman dropped his gun where he’d shot at the boy’s feet and held up his hands, approaching slowly, “Dick, we just want to talk with you. You aren’t in trouble”

The boy narrowed his eyes and seemed to fight against another shiver as a cold gist blew over them, “Yeah right. That's the same thing Mr. Martin said before he gave me detention”

Batman’s fists clenched in response and Damian used the opportunity to tackle the boy. He was taller and heavier, having a natural advantage without even considering his fighting repertoire. The boy sensed him coming and tried to leap overhead at the last minute but Damian scrambled and caught the loose tag on his stolen shoes, dragging him down into a scuffle. The boy yelled out and threw sporadic, but well-placed, elbows and knees. Damian couldn't help but notice that he made sure to never leave his throat exposed and to never show his back to him. He struggled and scrambled in ways that kicked Damian back to the site or tried to shimmy up and away from him. The boy was incredibly hard to hold onto and was wiggling chaotically. Todd’s usage of the phrase Vegas man and wiggle worm flashed across his mind before he tried to grip the boy’s wrist. Damian tried to pin him but the boy threw up his legs up and tried to grab hold of Damian's neck. Damian tried to pin his thighs with his knees but his opponent started twisting his hips until he worried something would crack. He couldn't take his eyes off the squirming kid for a second so he was surprised to find Batman suddenly in their space, pinning the boy’s torso down with a firm heavy grip against his shoulders. Damian slid to the kid’s feet and pinned his calves, knowing there was no strength to leverage just his feet.

The boy growled and cried out before he fell limp, his thin small chest heaving violently, “Let me go!” he shouted, bucking up and down. 

“Dick-”

“Where’s Batman!?” The boy yelled out over Bruce’s attempts to question him.

“Dick-”

“No!”

The boy seemed to realize that he wasn't doing anything other than tiring himself out and fell limp. His bright blue eyes were wide with fear and they bounced sporadically between both men pinning him. He gulped but never once did he cry out or plead.

Bruce looked at Damian, “We can’t safely get him down without him escaping or struggling”

Damian nodded, understanding Bruce’s intention. He kept up the charade and asked, “What should we do then?”

It seemed to work as the boy was focused on their conversation about him. He was oblivious to the way Batman’s hand shifted and one slipped into his waist for a small pink capsule. While the kid was still panting and looking between them, Bruce brought up his hand to the boy’s lower face and smashed the granulated capsule in his hand. The dust and particles were instantly airborne, coating the boy’s lips and mouth in grainy pink, “Wha-” A high-pitched coughing fit began and they watched as the low-grade sedation capsule worked its magic, instantly calming the panicked boy. His eyes fluttered and finally fell shut over his baby blue eyes. His lips stayed parted as his breath seemed to calm and he fell utterly limp.

Damian stared down at the kid, “It should’ve calmed him not knocked him out”

Batman nodded, “He’s sleep-deprived and probably running on pure adrenaline”

Damian glanced back down at the kid’s calm face before looking back to his father, “You weren't serious were you? This can’ be Richard. It’s a decoy or a clone or ploy-look at how the Light made Connor” he pointed out.

Bruce nodded but his attention was still fixed on the boy beneath them, “I’m not sure. We need to get him back to the cave and run blood tests and body scans. If this is a clone then we’ll be able to tell. He won’t have the same DNA sequence as Dick”

Damian nodded, “Connor is half Luthor”

No one moved for a while and Damian forced his flipping stomach to voice the obvious, “What if this is Richard?”

Bruce seemed to want to run a hand through his hair before he remembered he had the cowl on, “There are a number of things that can be at play here if this isn't a clone. The kid would be from another universe like Captain Marvel has experienced. There could be some sort of magic being used…” he trailed off and Damian felt a lump settle in his throat. He’d never seen his father so affected, he’d always been a cold man and this was not reflective of that person. Without a word, Bruce reached forward and slipped his hands beneath the boy. He stood easily, cradling him against his large chest. He shifted his bicep to purposely roll the boy's head inward as his arms and legs dangled below. Without glancing at Damian he said, “Report back to the cave-we’ll go from there”

Damian, in a daze, stared as Batman departed, “Drake, call Todd” he said over their comm lines, before following them.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“It has to be magic,” Damian said, “My mother and grandfather are associated with many adapt magic users”

“Should we call Zatanna?” Tim asked.

Bruce shook his head, “We can’t. She’s away”

“What if this is a trap? Or something else?"

“Something else?" Damian asked.

Tim shrugged, “I know we’ve been warned against it, but there are other universes right? Stuff that only a few select people can access in each world? Captain Marvel has access to the one that gave him powers right? And Zatara has talked about worlds that have branched from ours”

Bruce ran a hand over his face, feeling the back of his eyes start to thump painfully in time with his heartbeat, “It’s our Dick” he confirmed, looking at the blood samples they’d taken.

“Impossible” Damian insisted. This blood sample was congruent with the blood samples they had on file for their Dick Grayson. The only change that they hadn’t expected was the fact that they were unable to see any identifiable traces of the electrum gene in his system.

“His memories could have been messed with” Tim offered lamely. It was obvious much more had been altered or affected.

“Deathstroke would be breathing down our throats right now” Damian objected, “There is no way he would ever let Richard escape in this state-” he stopped with wide eyes, “You don't think this was him?” he asked suddenly.

Tim’s eyes narrowed spitefully and Bruce gritted his teeth, “It is a possibility that Wilson employed the use of a magic user to alter Dick’s state of mind and it went too far”

“Or not,” Tim said with a disheartened shrug, “A young malleable Dick might be just what Slade was aiming for”

Dick was laid out in the Batcave, unconscious. His messy dark hair was imitating a filthy halo around his head. Alfred was bent over the boy, unnecessarily checking his IV and sedation line. No one was about to stop the older man from his attempts to be close to the boy. Tim could vaguely acknowledge that he was heavily in shock on his own, he could imagine what Alfred was thinking. Alfred had brought down drinks earlier and the mess of them still lay on the floor in the far corner, but the older man hadn't moved from his position at Dick’s side since

“What do we do?” Damian voiced.

Tim sighed and forced himself to look away from the shaky butler and their possible older brother, “Let’s wait for Jason” he said, “If this is Dick then my next guess is that Dick pissed off someone with powerful magic. Jason has connections with John Constantine and he can give him a call while Zatanna is busy”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, heavily disliking the mention of John but didn’t refute the idea, “In the meantime, make sure every sensor and facial recognition tracker is up and running in the city. I want to know the minute Wilson enters Gotham”

 As if sensing, the need for him, Jason’s bike revved in the distance. It didn't take long for the bright red bike to rumble to a stop. Redhood threw his leg over the bike with an ease that conveyed slight aggravation, “I swear to god, replacement” Jason’s voice was muffled by his helmet, strapped even tighter to his head for the highspeed ride, “This better be good”

Batman watched with thinned lips and a clenched jaw as Jason tried to subtly wipe some dark red smears from his brown gloves on his dark cargo pants. He instantly spotted Alfred bent over a small body across the room, “Who’s that?” he asked with heavy disinterest.

“Dick” Tim answered honestly.

Jason took off his helmet and narrowed his eyes with disdain, “Alright then, fuck you too” he said. 

Tim crossed his arms, “I’m not joking, Jason”

Jason stopped and crossed his arms, his helmet dangling from 2 curved fingers, “Yes..you are” he said with the same tone.

Damian growled, “He’s not Todd!”

Jason slowly turned to look at the small dark-haired boy and then back at the 3 bats. He specifically looked at Bruce before finding something that twisted his lips and the corners of his eyes. He turned and walked over to the gurney and stared down at the young boy. The 3 could see his back, but all caught the moment his helmet fell from his fingers with a loud clatter. Jason leaned over the boy, his forehead nearly touching the one below him. Alfred was busy grasping the kid’s limp hand and running wrinkled fingers over his palm and in between his fingers. Desperate for more contact with his oldest grandchild

Jason blinked with eyes so wide it hurt, “What the fuck” he breathed. He looked back up at Bruce, “What the fuck” he said louder…angrier.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jason stomped back to the center of the cave and shoved a crumpled piece of paper at Damian’s chest and shoved his phone into his back pocket. The boy fumbled it before catching it before it could drop. He glanced at it before handing it to Bruce. Bruce accepted the paper, “Just repeat this?

Jason’s eyes were nearly green fumes, “Say it all out loud and twice. He said we’ll know”

Bruce raised an unconvinced brow, “We’ll know?” he repeated.

“Do I look like the fucking magic expert?” he snarled, “That’s what he said so just say it”

Bruce glared back but held his tongue at the way Jason's eyes glittered an acidic shade. Bruce thumbed the paper and stepped up to Dick’s bedside. Alfred hadn’t left his side, instead attempting to clean up the sweaty filthy boy's skin while he was manually sedated. Bruce held up the paper and read the words out loud and then repeated them again. They waited for a few seconds before a strange buzzing began to fill their ears, almost like a loud AC unit. They watched as Dick’s skin began to reveal the same Latin inscription along his arms. The same dulled blue symbol appeared on his cheeks and forehead. Alfred pulled up his ripped yoga pants on one leg to reveal the symbols down his thighs and calves as well.

Tim sucked in a breath, “This must mean the magic affected his entire body” he glanced at Jason who begrudgingly nodded, “If nothing happened then it wouldn't have been magic” he bit out. His fists hadn't unclenched and his eyes were visibly glowing the longer he looked at the unconscious child.

They watched Dick’s chest rise and fall before Jason rounded on Bruce, “What the fuck happened!?”

“Todd” Damian snapped. Jason snapped right back, “What? We got our answer-it’s fucking Dick!” he yelled painting at the limp body, “He’s not a clone, and suddenly halfway across the world and fucking 13-14, I dunno, but none of this fucking makes sense and-”

“How will yelling at us clear up why Dick is a kid?! Huh?” Tim seethed, “He showed up looking for Batman and accused Damian of not being Robin- he called him Jay and-”

Jason’s eyes went wide but his brow softened severely, “What?” he asked.

Tim paused as well before he lowered his gaze and shrugged, “That’s what I heard over Damian’s comms”

Jason’s gaze became heavy as he watched Dick, “What the fuck” he breathed, “He’s actually a kid…he thinks I’m Robin or-or training to be Robin”

“You’re just a few weeks into being Robin” Bruce murmured like he knew the exact dates every single one of his boys took up the mantle. Jason dragged his booted feet over to the gurney again and leaned over until his sweaty forehead was gracing Dick’s newly cleaned one.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Jason asked the room. They’d cleaned Dick up the best they could and cut away his torn and zip-tied clothing. For the first time since the grandfatherly figure had locked eyes onto his oldest boy, Alfred lifted his head and planted Bruce with a firm look, “It is quite clear that we are all in the dark as to what happened and why. Master Dick is obviously not in the right state to explain the details so I suggest we make him as comfortable as possible and make sure Mr. Wilson does not make an appearance any time soon” he spoke it like the order it was and all 3 Robins and their one bat moved to do so. 

After some handful of grumbling and snapping, shoving, and arguing, Bruce finally managed to move Dick up to his old bedroom. He did his best to ignore the painful pinch behind his eyes when he realized that Alfred had been dusting and upkeeping Dick’s bedroom just as frequently as the other boys. When Bruce nudged open his eldest’s door, the room was void of old laundry and dust. Alfred entered first and pulled back the covers. Bruce silently walked over, feeling his other son’s penetrating gazes on his back. He laid Dick down and watched as Alfred returned with borrowed socks and underwear and sweats, “Hey, is that mine?” Tim startled.

Alfred nodded, “Indeed, Master Timmothy. You are the closest in size to Master Dick currently”

Jason snickered and Tim elbowed him harshly. Damian, being Bruce’s hulking biological son was younger than Tim but the same height and much broader than the naturally lean Tim. He crossed his arms but stayed silent, not wanting to appear impudent as Alfred worked to change Dick into more comfortable clothing. He slipped the socks on and slipped the sweats up his hips. They were loose and long but fit much better than whatever scraps he’d dressed himself in before escaping Slade.

The room fell eerily silent as they took in their brother, “Do you think he ran away?” Damian asked the room.

“Of course he ran away” Jason snapped.

Tim glared, “He means did he run away on purpose or is he just confused”

Jason simpered, “Oh…”

They watched for a while as Bruce and Alfred sat on the edge of his bed. Bruce’s hand was just close enough to brush against Dick’s skin but not hold him, “He’s so small” Damian spoke again. Tim and Jason shared a glance, wondering what this would do to the youngest member of their rag-tag family. They would be better off in no man’s land than whatever situation they were in now.

They had no idea how this had happened

They had no idea how to reverse it

They had no idea how to speak with Dick and wake him up after that disastrous debacle on the rooftop

They had no idea if Slade was now their enemy or when he would show up

On top of that was the enormous unaddressed elephant in the room…Dick was no longer a meta. His eyes had been bright shining blue when Bruce and Damian found him and his blood results were similar to before Dick had been shot by the GPD for avenging Jason in a reckless spree of anger and sorrow. Tim stepped back, unable to stomach the compounding tension and emotions that were swirling around the room. It had taken him long enough to grow accustomed to a big brother who killed and kept them at arms length but now they had a younger brother who didn't know him. 

Alfred seemed to realize that he didn't have a purpose standing at the foot of the bed and looked at the boys, “I suggest one of you call Miss Gordon and update her. We will need clear minds and light emotions when Master Dick awakens”

"Don't tell her yet" Bruce ordered without looking up.

Jason leaned against the door, “If his mind is where his body is then Tim and Damian haven't moved here yet” Bruce nodded, “So what are we gonna do? What are we gonna say? Dick is smart-we can't fool him”

Bruce’s shoulders fell, “I’ll stay with him until he wakes up and explain as best I can. We’ll explain that he was affected by some powerful magic and then he was…de-aged” Bruce’s lips twisted at the term, “I will introduce you and we can show him some pictures to help it take root better but….”

“But?” Jason demanded with a slight edge. Bruce’s brow crunched, “I don’t think we should mention what’s happened” Bruce turned to face the boys fully, “Don’t mention anything about the Court, or Wilson, or the Light”

“Nothing?” Tim asked.

“Nothing” Bruce confirmed, “We don’t know how any of this works and don't even know who did this to him. We can’t afford any harmful triggers and those are all sore subjects for us and him”

Damian bit his lip, “This was most likely done by a member of the Light. Deathstroke and Richard are employed by them through Savage”

Tim nodded, “Maybe Klarion? Queen Bee was collecting those crystals for herself and him, but Psimon can’t wield magic. Unless there’s someone new and big they’ve been keeping under wraps, I think we can assume he might be involved”

Bruce nodded, “We’ll review the information we have on him and the Light later” he turned back to Dick and Jason sighed. He dropped his arms and turned to leave; muttering something about coming back when there was actually something to do. Tim sighed and motioned for Damian to leave as well, “It’s probably safer if Bruce is the only one here when he wakes up”

Damian turned his body as if to follow but stalled. He couldn't stop watching the boy. It was hard to connect the image of the boy before him with his oldest brother, his protector and father figure. Once It had been confirmed that this was Dick, Damian could easily see the similarities in the childhood photos around the manor, but before that, there was no way Damian would have guessed who this was. Only his father and Todd had been able to see the similarities as they’d lived with the young boy in front of him. They’d seen Richard at his weakest and goofiest, his smallest and most vulnerable. Damian felt a pang of something akin to jealousy as he realized that he’d never be able to share in the stages of growing up with his brothers, never be able to endure the weaknesses of childhood together in a way that Todd, Harper, and West had been able to. This was just another side to Richard that Damian would never be privy to and whatever magical accident had landed Richard back home was smearing his face in it. 

He felt Tim take a step back until he was at his side, nonverbally questioning Damian’s lack of movement. Damian half-heartedly wished that the others were as comfortable touching him as Richard was so that they could forcefully direct him elsewhere, “He’s so small” he whispered.

Tim looked back at Dick and offered a weak chuckle, “Yea. Leslie always told me I’d grow up to be a taller Dick”

Damian’s mind was only partially involved in their whispered back and forth, “Richard’s parents were below average height”

Tim made an agreeing sound in his throat, “His entire family were self-taught acrobats. Tall people have a much harder time flipping and flinging themselves, much less a partner”

“Those drugs made Richard taller-bigger than he was meant to be” Damian wanted to feel the familiar heat behind his words. He desired for the searing anger of resentment over their long-term situation to rise up and fuel a more hardened tone, but he felt unable to compel it. Like the air of the quiet, sedated room was fracking everyone to feel less, to speak more quietly-all for the sake of the sleeping boy. He saw Drake turn his head between the bed and his own face a few times before he sighed, “Come on, Damian”

Damian forced himself to accept the order, even though he still wished Drake would grab his arm or nudge his shoulder. He blinked and used the break in eye contact to turn away. He forced his feet forward, unsure of where he could go, and sit mindlessly until Richard was awake. He found himself following Drake, but the older boy didn't complain. He led the both of them to his own room and opened his laptop to access files on Klarion and the Light. He offered a quick glance at Damian before he made room on his bed and tossed him a spare notebook. Damian knew Richard always had some spare unlined notebooks around for when he wanted to draw but he wasn’t about to force the fire back into his chest just to rebuke Drake’s behavior. He accepted the paper and a pen before sitting back against the headboard. He dragged his pen up and around the pages, using the lines to create somewhat symmetrical borders. Once he’d filled a few pages of nothing but intricate lines and vine-like detail, Damian found himself drawing out whatever felt easiest. First, it was some birds before he specified them into Robins with added shading. Then, he crafted a few animal eyes, maybe a tiger or a wolf so he could put added detail towards the predatory glint most of them held. He reverted back to bird eyes and tried to spend more detail on the feathers around their pupils and beaks, but stopped violently when he realized he’d naturally drawn an owl. He stared at the detail of plumage around the large pupils. Damian knew the connection was pointless and symbolic more than anything but he couldn't stop the revulsion and resentment from making itself known. He gripped his pen tighter and violently scribbled the eye out before turning the page for good measure.

Tim glanced over at him at the sound of the pen nearly tearing through the paper but didn't comment.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

 Bruce wasn’t sure how long he watched Dick. The hours that he was naturally attuned to, naturally cognizantly aware of for the sake of both his identities slipped away like a wisp of wind beneath the presence of Dick. His boy was back….his little boy was back. Everything about this boy was so new and foreign and yet…so familiar and convivial. He tried to, he really did, but he couldn't resist the urge in the muscles of his hand, pulling him forward. Encouraging him to ensure his son was real. He reached out to feel Dick’s soft locks, noting they felt crunchy and brittle beneath the layer of sweat and dirt that coated him. Alfred had done his best to wipe him down and clean away the grime but it was obvious Dick had been through hell to get back to them, so much like Dick. Bruce bit the inside of his cheek the moment he felt an antagonizing wet sting butchering the backs of his eyes. He could only imagine what had happened to leave Dick as a child-desperately seeking Bruce in such a desperate vulnerable manner. 

If his clothing and shoes were any indication, he’d stolen his older self’s clothing and made it to them barefoot before stealing shoes off some street rack in downtown Gotham. Dick’s face was void of the pain and frustration that marred him in recent years. His skin was soft and supple and his lips and eyes were smoothed with the carelessness of childhood, the lack of tough life lessons. Bruce hoped Dick’s subconscious took comfort in his surroundings; hoped that the smells and sheets beneath him eased some of the less obvious strain on his mind and body. Dick’s lips were chapped but he was breathing steadily through his parted lips. Alfred had tucked in the boy, but Bruce had loosened them slightly and placed his hands beside him above the duvet, hoping he didn't wake feeling panicky and constricted.

He knew his pseudo father figure and sons were forcing down their panic and shock, choking on their amazement in a quiet way but Bruce didn't have the heart to address at the moment. His eldest had not only been attacked by some powerful magic while in enemy hands, but he’d been reverted back to such a vulnerable state in his life that Bruce wondered what to do. It was obvious that Dick’s mental state might be in line with that of his 13-year-old self. He’d claimed that Jason was Robin which meant that Bruce must have just allowed Jason out on occasional patrol. It had been a tough time for Dick, and Bruce remembered the copious fights and conference calls he’d been called to Gotham Prep over. Looking back, he should've connected the transfer of titles from Dick to Jason with that of Dick’s acting out. It didn’t seem like it took Dick very long to move on in Bruce’s recollection. Dick had excitedly presented the ideas for Nightwing to Bruce during the period when both boys were sharing the uniform. Jason was officially Robin but Bruce didn't want him out on some of the more dangerous patrols and stakeouts-deferring to Dick for those. Still, the overwhelming emotions in his chest seemed to be compounding his mind and heart more than the obvious questions that needed to be addressed. 

There were a handful of issues that they might have to be prepared to address with Deathstroke now that it was confirmed that Dick wasn't enhanced. He was human and vulnerable and as mortal as ever. Bruce bit his lip the moment his thoughts tried to remind him that Dick wouldn't be enhanced until Jsaon died, because of Bruce’s foolishness. Dick would then chase after the Joker in the name of revenge for his little brother, only to be gunned down by the very system he was being raised to protect and uphold-once against because of Bruce's foolishness.

His fingers tightened as another wave of questions hit him full force.

Would this magic wear off? 

What were the side effects?

Should they contact Wilson to make sure Dick suffers less harm?

Would Dick remember any of his older self’s trauma?

The questions and concerns built and bubbled beneath Bruce’s skin but as he stared down at Dick. All he could do was release one long exhausted breath, forcing himself through regulated breathing exercises. He knew he’d asked for this and more when he accepted ownership over Gotham-vowing to protect it as his parents had deserved as a child, but sometimes he truly wondered if he made the right decision. If accepting the Bat’s shadow over his soul was worth his children as continued collateral. 

Bruce knew how foolish he was to even think such incredulous thoughts, to have the audacity to wonder and hope but he couldn't-no matter how hard he tried to-force down the niggling, yearning thought of, “Was this a second chance?”

Bruce continued to sit with Dick until his right leg went numb. He shifted sides so he was sitting on the other edge of Dick’s bed and putting weight on his over hip and leg. Then his side started to twinge. Dawn had crested hours ago but Bruce had no intention of leaving, the 3 cups of coffee on Dick’s nightstand remained a nonverbal testament to the fact. His eyes were just beginning to sting when a weak moan snagged his attention. Bruce’s eyes snapped to Dick’s face, spotting his scrunched nose and irregular breath. Bruce watched Dick like a hawk, noting the finer smaller details that Dick seemed to have outgrown. 25-year-old Dick didn't moan or groan when he awoke. Living with Batman and then Deathstroke had led the boy to exist in such a hypervigilant state of awareness that even his subconscious prevented him from making too much noise when vulnerable. Dick stilled and his face seemed to relax, making Bruce wonder if he was just sleeping agitatedly. He was proven wrong the next moment when bright ardent blue eyes blinked open groggily.

The boy spotted Bruce and frowned. His lips twisted and he let a jaw-cracking yawn overtake him while he roughly rubbed his right eye, “Brc?” His voice sounded gravelly and rough, but Bruce had never been more happy.

“Dick” Bruce breathed. Dick tilted his head to the window, gazing dazedly at the bright glass. He blinked repeatedly for a few minutes before he turned his head back to Bruce, looking like he had too much and nothing to say all at once. Suddenly, Dick’s eyes widened violently and his breath tripled in speed. He shoved his hands beneath him but he overestimated the strength in his tired limbs and he collapsed flat on his back; the soft mattress working to counter his efforts as well. “Dick-Dick-” Bruce tried but Dick was frantic, scrambling back as much as he could. His back hit the headboard and Dick whipped his head left and right like the headboard was a thug pinning him down. He snapped his head to Bruce and Bruce saw the realization of wrinkles and fine lines registering to Dick. 

“Who-”

“It’s me, Dick, I promise” Bruce rushed to assure. He leaned forward but Dick only pulled back further, his chest nearly hyperventilating. Bruce slowly leaned back, showing no ill intent. Dick and Bruce watched each other intently while Dick caught his breath. Minutes passed before Dick swallowed heavily and glanced around his room, “Where-” he swallowed again, “Where am I?”

Bruce frowned, uncertain as to Dick’s state of mind, “You’re in your room, Dick. At Wayne Manor”

Dick frowned but his bone-deep exhaustion seemed to steal the fire from his narrowed blue gaze, “No I’m not” he denied, “I remember what happened” he said surely, “You aren’t B and whoever that was definitely wasn’t Jason-”

“You’re right”

Dick stopped short, surprised. Bruce held up his hands, “About Robin at least” he amended, “That was someone named Damian. That wasn’t Jason”

“But you aren’t Bruce”

Bruce resisted the urge to allow his facial expressions free reign, “I am” he insisted.

Dick crossed his arms, his familiar attitude rearing its head, “I know B. You have more wrinkles and are way tanner than him”

Bruce’s mind ran through every possible scenario and every possible explanation it could, all at once, and every single one of them ended up failing miserably because Dick was no fool and he couldn't hide the evidence of time from Dick, “Something…happened” he put it lightly, “I can, and will, explain everything but I need to make sure you trust me first. I want to make sure we’re on the same page about what you remember too”

Dick seemed uncertain but Bruce’s statement was so blatant and transparent, he seemed willing to cooperate, “Okay” he dragged the word out with an edge of distrust. 

Bruce nodded, “Ask me whatever you need to. I can answer everything, or have Alfred help me” he added with a slightly embarrassed chuckle. He knew he looked like a total failure the few times Alfred knew more about Dick’s schooling or schedule than he did, but he’d gotten used to the scathing looks and judgmental expressions on other parents' faces over time. He was lucky that Dick was such an attention-seeking child that the stares didn't bother him as much as they would’ve Jason or Tim.

Dick watched Bruce and looked around his room, “When was the last time you helped me with my history homework?”

Bruce frowned slightly, “I meant more….personal questions, Chum. Part of those kinds of questions is what we need to discuss after” Bruce paused, “But I’m certain you’ve never needed help in anything but chemistry and trig”

Dick’s face was prepped to dispute whatever Bruce said but stopped, blinking at Bruce’s statement. Bruce fought the urge to smirk, realizing he’d been spot on and Dick had given him a trick question.

“Fine” Dick agreed, “What was the name Uncle Clark and I picked out for my new ID?”

“Nightwing” Bruce answered quickly, “After the Kryptonian legend”

Dick nodded slowly, “Which nickname does Jason hate most?”

Bruce cocked a slight smile, “He says he hates them all, especially when you call him little, but I think he secretly likes it”

Dick smirked back before he forced his lips to fall neutral, “How long did it take for Jason to master my triple flip?”

Bruce tilted his head, “He hasn’t”, he didn't mention that Jason only nailed it after coming back with pit enhancements. Dick watched Bruce for a while and his bright brilliant blue eyes seemed to leap from Bruce’s left eye to his right eye. From the corner of his eyes to his hairline and back, “Bruce? What happened?” Dick asked more quietly, more trusting. 

“I know, Chum, it’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry it’s all so confusing right now. I’ll explain everything”

Dick’s shoulders dropped more resolutely and he let himself sink more firmly into the bed, “What happened? Why was I in Nanda Parbet? Where were you? Who’s Damian?”

Bruce took the opportunity to scoot up the bed, warming internally at how Dick shifted to meet him halfway. He stopped, content when Dick’s small bony knee was brushing his thigh, “What do you remember Dick?”

Dick glanced down and fiddled with his fingers in his lap, “It’s all pretty blurry” he admitted, “I woke up in someone else’s room-their bed even” he corrected, “I think I was kidnapped?” he looked to Bruce for confirmation but glanced away when his mentor stayed stony-faced, “I dunno. I was in clothes way too big for me so I made do” he gestured to his lower body before halting. His cheeks burned upon realizing he’d been put into something much more familiar. They still weren't his clothes as they were much longer, but they fit well enough.

“Chum?” Bruce nudged.

“I wasn’t sure what to do and I can’t remember how I got there so I started looking for stuff, and Bruce” he picked his head up, “I think I was in Deathstroke’s room! He’s working for Ra’s!”

Bruce did his absolute best not to show any wavering emotions. He clenched his fists as tightly and slowly as possible, using the nail-biting pain in his palms to maintain a calm facade, “Did you see him? Wilson?”

Dick shook his head, “No, but there were clothes and bags everywhere and there was a projectile. Like a batarang but it was S-shaped and it had his colors. I mean technically I could be wrong, but I felt this in my gut, B”

Bruce nodded, “I believe you”

Dick nodded, feeling renewed as he told his story, “I found the door and then snuck down to where you spotted that old tech closet. You were right B, Ra’s copied a zeta tube. I hijacked it and then busted the settings after the first delivery so it should be broken, but none of it made sense!” he threw his arms up, “If I was kidnapped I should've been in a cell- not Deathstroke’s bedroom. Was he hired by the Shadows? And then on top of that, I wasn’t even tied up!” Dick bit his lip and looked down at his hands for answers, “It felt like how amateurs treat captives, but I know I was in Nanda, B. Ra’s is the furthest thing from an amateur. I woke up like I was a guest, not a prisoner”

Dick glanced up more firmly, a slight fire behind his pursued lips, “Where were you? What happened and-and your uniform” he seemed to remember, “Why is it suddenly different?”

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh as Dick forcefully transitioned them to the more difficult part of their conversation. It was his turn to glance away and ignore the persistently wet look on Dick’s face when he asked where Bruce was, “Dick, I know this is going to be a lot to take in but you need to trust me, alright?”

Dick’s face showed hints of panic but he nodded.

“I didn’t know you were in Nanda Parbat because we haven't seen each other in a while…and Jason wasn’t the Robin you encountered because he hasn't been Robin for a while now. Neither of you have been”

Dick nodded slowly, “Ok,” he said, playing along, “Why haven't we seen each other? I’m a minor B. I can’t just go off on my own without my teachers asking questions”

“That isn’t an issue because you aren’t in school either. You graduated a few years ago”

Dick recoiled slightly and his eyes started to swirl with the heavy confusion Bruce had feared, “What? No-I-I would remember graduating B” he laughed weakly, “I just started High School” he insisted.

Bruce’s stomach had been churning heavily with every word he forced out. His hands were starting to ache from the severe clench he had them in and Bruce knew he had to get this over with. Force out the explanation and then deal with the questions. He couldn't keep dragging it along, hoping Dick would just accept some strange new status quo to his life, “Dick…you aren’t almost 14. You’re in your early 20s and were hit with powerful magic while undercover. It regressed you physically and mentally. You panicked and escaped your mission and came back home”

Dick’s mouth was gaped and he was staring at Bruce almost like the man had insulted him slightly, one brow higher than the other. He watched Bruce as if waiting for the punchline but his confusion quickly developed into fretful worry, “You’re not joking?” Dick looked around the room like his brother would jump out at him, “Jason?” no response, “Jay!?”

Bruce sighed, “Chum, Dick, he-”

“Little wing?” Dick’s voice cracked with a frantic edge. Before Bruce could stop him, he rolled off the bed and sped for the door. Bruce cursed and rounded the bed before running after him. Dick had thrown open the door and was already down the hallway yelling, “Jason!”

It wasn’t a far walk from Dick’s enormous room to Jason’s and Bruce spotted the moment Dick decided to try his little brother’s bedroom. He reeled to a stop and shoved open the door with both palms, “Jay?” he looked around just as Bruce caught up to him. Dick shot Bruce a furious look, “Where is he? Where's that imposter, Damon?”

Bruce’s lips were already parted in a prepared plea to calm down and walk calmly back to his room. Bruce had half a mind to call for Alfred because the older man was always more reliable when it came to dealing with Dick. Alfred managed to settle Dick’s tantrums as if they were nothing but an inconvenience, leaving both parties tearful but content in the end. He was cut off by movement behind Dick, further down the hallway. Dick instantly spotted the shift in Bruce’s attention and spun around to see Jason at the end of the hallway, “You” Dick narrowed his eyes.

Jason looked up and balked, removing his hands from his worn leather jacket, “Me?” he asked.

Dick stomped over to Jason, but Bruce halted him with a hand on his elbow. Dick wrenched himself free and Bruce cursed himself for feeling unsure about gripping his thin son so weakly. Dick was an absolute twig as a child. His metabolism and natural lean body left him looking near anorexic if he went a few hours without food.

Dick stomped up to Jason with a vicious glint, “Where is he?” he demanded angrily. He sized up Jason before realizing that this man's shoulders were far too broad and far too tall to be the imposter Robin he'd met. That man had been tall but he didn't take up nearly as much space as this man.

Jason crossed his arms, looking annoyed and unsure all at once, “Who?’ he asked simply.

“Jason!” Dick threw up his arms. Jason’s expression faltered and Bruce couldn't fault him. Dick’s appearance was bringing up sore memories for both him and Jason, but to have his role model, now reduced to a child, demanding to see him as a child as well, unaware he never would…it was bitter.

Jason’s eyes held a troubled light but he forced his fixated gaze over Dick's head, his shoulders sagged and he looked to Bruce, “Uhhhh”

“Where is Jay?!” Dick demanded looking past Jason’s towering form, “Listen, Dick-”

Dick cut him off with a sassy rebuttal, “Unless this is the truth, I don't wanna hear it Damon, or whatever your name is” Dick growled.

Jason gaped and looked at Bruce, “What the fuck have you been telling him?!”

Dick blinked as Jason yelled at Bruce. Bruce sighed, “I’ve been trying to go about this slowly, but he worried too much when I started to get to the hard part. I told him you haven't been Robin for a while now and he left to look for you”

“Wait wait wait” Dick stopped them with a wave of his hands. Jason resisted the urge to smirk over how naturally Dick demanded attention. He was surprised the kid didn't grow up to have a serious ego problem, “Why are you talking to him like he's Jason?!”

Jason sighed and dropped down to his haunches, leaving him just an inch below Dick’s eye level, “Look Dickie. It is me. B was right. Shit went down and you’re younger than you actually are. You’re like 24 or some shit and-”

“You’re not Jason” Dick denied firmly. Jason gave Bruce a frustrated, Well I tried, look, “We're trying to explain you're confused, Dick”

“No, you’re just wrong. I know Littlewing”

Jason bit his lip and growled, “Look, Dickhead. It’s me I swear. I’m the same kid who stole the front 2 tires of Bruce’s car and I’m the same kid who got detention the first day at Gotham prep for punching that kid who cheated off you. It’s me I swear”

Dick’s expression faltered and his shoulders lowered slightly. He cocked his head, “If it is you then what did Jason do right after he caught Christian cheating off me?”

Jason’s brow broke as he tried to remember. He’d just told Dick he’d whammed on the kid when the memory hit him square in the face. His ears burned, realizing Bruce didn't know this because Dick had kept his secret, “I-uh” he rubbed his nape, “I asked to cheat off you because we were brothers now and he was just a punk” he said, hoping he’d gotten the words close enough.

Dick’s bright eyes seemed to shake and he darted his attention from Jason’s left to his right eye, “You are Jason?” he asked again. Insecurity layering his voice. Jason nodded and offered what he hoped was a smile, “It’s me Goldenboy. I know shit’s confusing right now” Bruce growled as he continued to curse, “But let the old man explain”

Dick glowered and crossed his arms, “None of this makes sense” he spat, “Why was I undercover in Nanda Parbat? And who did this to me? And why aren’t you Robin? What happened to you?” his attention kept snagging atop Jason’s head.

Bruce didn’t want to be the only one towering over Dick now that he was barely 5 foot 6. He crouched down, placing his weight onto one knee, “I know it’s a lot Dick, but what I said was true. You’re much older and were hit with some pretty powerful magic. It affected your body and your mind”, Bruce glanced at Jason to find his vivid green eyes already on him. For a second, Bruce worried that he’d spoken too softly to Dick and come off as strange, but Dick didn't seem to react any differently. He welcomed the soft tone like it was all he was accustomed to.

Dick’s brow crumpled as he looked at Bruce, “Is that why you’re so tan and..so much older?” Jason snickered but Bruce could hear the hurt in Dick’s voice. His son had only ever been Robin and had recently just accepted a new brother into his life, throwing all of this plus magic onto his shoulders was a heavy request. Dick didn’t mean anything by the remarks about his age. Bruce could see it in the slightly desperate way Dick looked at him. Seeing Bruce older and tanner, more wrinkled in subtle places was most likely worrying and frightening. Dick probably only remembered coming back from patrol, going to bed, and waking up not only in enemy territory alone, but in a whole new world that seemed to have sped past him.

Bruce nodded and reached out. He was used to moving slowly, giving his sons time to decide when and how they wanted contact. Jason and Damian had come from physically abusive households and Tim’s natural defense mechanism of withdrawing into himself left all his sons rather hostile and adverse to easy touches and contact. The moment Bruce reached out for Dick’s shoulder, Bruce was reminded of how different his oldest son was. The dark-haired boy not only allowed the contact but he urged it forward until it was a hand on his shoulder, then an arm, then a hug, then a tighter hug…a squeeze to feel as much of each other as possible.

Bruce couldn't restrain the sigh that escaped him, like Dick’s weak attempt to hold Bruce as tightly as possible forced all the negative air from his body. Over Dick’s head, he and Jason made eye contact but he wasn’t sure what was communicated exactly. He wasn’t sure if they were both just amazed at how vulnerable and intimate Dick allowed himself to be after so much continued trauma. He wasn't sure if it was just a surprise that they’d witness Dick at this age again. It could have been a handful of things that kept his son’s bright blazing green eyes locked with his darker blue ones, but for a while, they just knelt there while Dick did his best to burrow into Bruce’s chest. Eventually, Bruce’s knee started to ache and then fall numb, but still, he didn’t move….not until Dick was ready to let go.

Chapter 28

Notes:

Hey there, here's another ch

 

 

Damian and Tim listened around the corner as Dick toted Jason and Bruce around the manor, badgering them with a combination of genuine questions and test-like interrogations. It didn’t take as long as one might have expected for the guarded unsure look to dissipate from Dick’s eyes but Tim chaulked it up to another facet of his soft-hearted brother's personality. He’d seen Dick as a teenager and always as an older brother and friend, offering friendliness, love, and guidance, but to see it displayed so naively and so basely vulnerable in such a young kid was another thing entirely. His manners were so much like Dick’s and yet so different at the same time. Tim’s Dick was soft and caring but held an insane duality to adapt and become as raser sharp and deadly as necessary. His skills and maneuverability in the field were on another level and no one but Bruce could touch him; Jason on a good day. This boy wasn’t weak-looking per se, but Tim couldn't connect the boy with the man in his head. Dick had large shoulders and a swimmer’s back to compliment his acrobat-based physique. His jawline was sharp and usually stretched from grinning so toothily. This boy off-set Tim’s senses for the same reasons, ironically enough. His smile was large and toothy, his hair was just as dark. His eyes were the same shade Tim remembered and his skin was the same sun-kissed shade. Tim almost felt like one of those first-time mothers who looked at their 6-pound baby and wondered how on earth their child would grow to become an adult in any capacity. They just seemed too small and frail and vulnerable at the moment. This kid was the same…Despite having all the same descriptive characteristics, Dick was too thin and twig-like. He was bony and lean in a way that put Tim to shame. He was an absolute beanpole and Tim could not imagine Bruce sensibly letting Dick out in the field to fight fully grown men.

Looking back, he could see why so many people called him the Boy Wonder. To be combatted and defeated by such a smile hyperactive boy was astounding and pictures or newspaper clippings did not do the original Robin justice. The more Tim watched and mused, the more he began to understand how Dick was able to retain so much of his parent's teachings. To be able to survive as a kid with such little muscle and mass, Dick had to have relied on defensive positions and tactics to keep up. Tim could only imagine how much he had to have flipped and dodged and leaped around 6-foot criminals, waiting for the perfect moment to distract them so that Batman could meld from the shadows and take them down to attack with a well-placed Batarang or smoke bomb, leveling the playing field in the only way he could. Bruce had mentioned that Jason, being younger than Dick, was only shorter than him for a year or two, but never smaller. Tim could understand now, how Bruce overestimated Jason after Dick’s insane success and talent. Jason was a rough around-the-edge boy right off the streets. He had enough guts to steal from the Dark Knight and to keep up with the original Boy Wonder…… until the Joker crushed all of Bruce’s expectations for his children.

Tim wasn’t one to throw himself a pity party, and wasn’t stupid enough to do it in front of people like Bruce, Damian, or Jason who were basically unresolved trauma-given legs, but Tim sometimes believed he knew the worst Bruce, the best. Bruce had taken him in out of pity, duty, and the obligation to keep his secret from a young boy who had connected one too many dots. If it weren’t for Dick, Tim would have run away within the first month, unable to bare Jason’s taunts and abrasive personality. Bruce had been nonexistent, avoiding Tim’s pestering questions and need for emotional connection under the excuse of patrol and daytime work. Tim saw though…he understood. Comprehending how much of a desolate broken man Bruce was after Dick’s torture under Two Face and then Jason’s murder, wasn’t very hard, especially after he'd figured out that the playboy was the Dark Knight. He’d relied heavily on Dick and his forced smiles. He knew the oldest boy was suffering from the loss of his baby brother and the emotional disruption it caused with his adoptive father. But Tim liked to think that his presence offered something for Bruce to come home to and for Dick to focus on-that it gave Wayne Manor something to focus on recuperating. Bruce got better eventually but by the time Damian was dropped on their front doorstep, Tim had accepted that he’d never be able to earn the Bruce that Jason and Dick had, especially after Dick broke Bruce’s code for the sake of Jason’s murdered memory. Tim watched Dick drag the pair around to the 3rd living room, closer to the sunroom, stealing them from easy sight. It was amusing to watch him order the 2 around.

Dick still spoke to Bruce with such intimacy, such niceness in his voice, but now there was an obvious note of reverence and awe. Everything Dick said, he said to Bruce almost like a question, like he wanted that extra little smile and nod. Damian desperately wished he’d grown up with the first 2 robins so that he could know what a softer, nicer Bruce Wayne looked like as a parent. The small smiles and gentle touches that Dick expected so easily were only gifted at the rarest moments to his children nowadays. Damian himself had only received it from Bruce when he’d almost died on patrol in Budhaven. Looking back, he wondered if Richard gave him such easy and abundant amounts of affection because that was what he received as a child. Damian always assumed Richard was just that type of person, but maybe it was actually a combination of the 2.

They’d listened as Bruce did most of the talking and Dick escorted the pair around the manor, checking the kitchens, the entryway, the parlor, the multiple living rooms, the sunroom, and even the ballroom to determine what had changed and what hadn’t. They stopped by the kitchen and let Alfred fawn over Dick for as long as the older man needed. Dick lavished in the attention, presuming it was because he was back from a big dangerous mission and as a magical victim. The best part was how Dick treated Jason. He toated his younger brother around by the hand and Jason was stuck humoring the boy in a combination of adoration and aggravation. With nearly a foot difference between the 2, the leather-studded Redhood amde quite the sight as he allowed a lanky teenager to drag him around. 

Dick seemed unconcerned by the age difference or height difference once he was confident he was talking to Jason. Tim and Damian heard him refer to Jason as Littlewing or Jay more often than his actual name. The young boy seemed to be finding a strange balance between younger brother and older brother now. He looked at everyone taller than him with an expectancy for approval and acceptance, something a younger brother would do. But then he’d speak to Jason and direct him around with the demanding leisure of an older brother. 

“So Damon is the one from the rooftop?” They heard Dick ask. Damian made an affronted sound in his throat, pulling back to send Tim a disgusted expression. Tim rolled his eyes and leaned around the corner to continue listening. 

“Damian” Bruce corrected, “Yes. He and Tim came to live with us after Jason did and I’ve been training them as well. Damian is currently Robin and Tim took on the moniker of Redrobin”

Dick made a humming sound as he gazed around the kitchen, noting new appliances and old stains, “So, there’s like a lot of us now aren’t there?”

“Heroes? Or brothers?” Bruce asked.

Dick stilled before a slow smile crept up to his lips, “Yea” he admitted, “I guess we are all brothers” he looked at Bruce, “You took us in and we’ve been together for years?”

Bruce nodded and smiled again. It seemed impossible not to return Dick’s overly large smile. It had been too big and toothy for such a small lean boy but it fit adult Dick Grayson symmetrically well. It was unfortunate that he didn't use it enough nowadays. 

“And we all live here?” Dick asked the room. He looked up at Jason for the answer, stunning the older boy. He rubbed the back of his head, “Uh yeah. I mean you’re like 24 or 25 now so like it’s pretty obvious we all stuck around”

Dick beamed and continued, thrilled with the idea of more boys and a larger family to look forward to.

“Do you want to meet them?” Bruce asked suddenly. Dick dropped Jason’s hand, “What?”

“Damian and Tim” Bruce repeated, “Do you want to meet them? They’re home. They’ve just been giving us some space because we all know you but the magic effects on you have made it a bit one-sided”

Dick’s face seemed crestfallen that he didn't remember someone he should have, “But I can’t remember them” he said. His head shot up, “Yeah! Where are they?”

Bruce grinned, about to call for the boys when Jason snapped, “Get out here”

He turned down the far hallway, the one that ended in a grandfather clock, to see Damian and Tim stepping out. Tim offered a large smile, “Hi” he greeted. Damian didn't respond but it looked like he was trying to appear welcoming. His eyes more open and lips less thinned.

Dick looked between them with bright eyes, “So you’re Robin now?” he asked Damian.

Damian seemed unsure of how to respond to such an unassuming Dick Grayson, “Yes” he said simply. Dick turned back to Jason, “I’m surprised you gave him Robin” he smirked, “You were so hyped about getting to be Robin”

Damian crossed his arms, “He didn’t give me anything” he sneered, “Besides, Drake was Robin before me so there was a slightly different transition in the cape”

Dick tilted his head as he looked at Tim, “Are you an orphan too?” he asked bluntly, but politely.

“Dick” Bruce snapped.

Dick shrugged, “What? Jay isn't a total orphan but he said he feels like it” he looked at Damian, “What happened to your parents?”

Damian froze and all eyes jumped to Bruce. Dick caught the motion and looked as well, “What? Did you arrest his dad or something?” he looked back to the others, "B tried to arrest Jay's dad after his mom..."

Bruce looked uncertain, “Well, Damian here is the youngest out of you boys. His mother left him here on purpose because I-”

“Knew my dad” Damian cut in suddenly. It was obvious and overly loud but no one corrected Damian so Dick turned to Bruce, “Really?"

Bruce nodded, "Like Tim’s parents. We'd collaborated in the past"

Dick looked awed, "You’re rich-rich?” he waggled his eyebrows. He looked to Jason, “Are we the poor ones?” he joked in a whisper. Jason smirked back and gripped Dick’s hand tighter.

Tim grinned, “It’s alright,” he said more to Dick than Bruce, “I am. My parents kind of ran in the same circle as Bruce and he took me in when they passed” he leaned in, “But I’ll tell you a secret” Dick’s eyes flashed in eagerness and he leaned in closer, “I figured out who Batman and Robin was before Bruce told me”

Dick’s eyes widened dramatically and he whirled on Bruce. Bruce nodded tersely after a few moments and Dick’s face split in a wide grin, “Ooooooooh. You’re soooo busted” he said slyly.

“Why?” Damian asked.

Dick turned back to the new pair, “B got soooo pissed with me when I told Wally who I was. Wally is super nice but I don’t think he would've ever gotten it without me saying anything” Dick looked at Jason, “They know Roy and Wally right?”

Jason grinned, warmed over how casually and comfortably Dick spoke to him about stuff they were all aware of, “Yea they do, but Wally and Roy are our age so they didn't really hang out growing up”

Dick nodded, suddenly looking more solemn, “So what now?” he mumbled.

Tim softened his expression, “What do you mean Dick?”

Dick looked up before looking to Bruce again, “Well I mean. I ran away from my mission in Nanda Parbat. They’ll notice I’m missing and if Deathstroke was there then it must be pretty important”

“Your missio-” Tim’s confused expression cut off with an annoyed seething look at Bruce.

Dick nodded, “Yea, Bruce filled me in a little. I was undercover with the Demon Head but I got hit with magic and well….” he gestured at himself, “I probably screwed it all up by getting hit with whatever curse this is and then abandoning it. What if they report back and they figure out I’m a kid, or worse” Dick’s frantic expression was far too reminiscent of teenage and adult Dick. Jason frowned and crouched down, “Dick, chill,” he said seriously, “You’ll be fine. The mission wasn't life or death....it was recon. If it’s a bad mission we’ll just scrap it and start over”

Dick watched Jason before nodding resolutely, “I can’t remember why I was even there” he admitted, “This all feels so weird” he chuckled weakly.

Tim laughed in annoyance, “It honestly isn’t important-”

“Tim” Dick said seriously, “I do not know how new you are to the cape business but I found some of Deathstroke’s stuff in the room I woke up in….it’s serious”

Tim halted as a barely teen talked down to him. The mention of Deathstroke caught him off guard though, “You’re right. Deathstroke is dangerous. Did you see him or Ra’s when you escaped?”

Dick took it as a chance to brag, “No” his eyes went big when he smiled, “I snuck out of there quicker and quieter than Kidflash!” he stopped, “Well actually, Wally isn't very quiet, but you get jist” he waved a hand.

Jason laughed and gave Dick a soft noogie, earning a playful shove and a giggle from the shorter boy. An alert sounded off, surprising the boys. Dick looked sharply, “What that?” he asked.

Jason threw a hand over his shoulder, “Bruce has just gotten more paranoid over the years. He has a ton of scanners but they only pick up birds n’ shit” he started to walk Dick towards the foyer and the kitchen, “Come on, let’s convince Alfred to let us bake cookies”

Dick’s face wasn't anywhere near convinced but his damned sweet tooth won out, “Wait-why do we have to convince him?”

Jason’s face soured comically, “We may have gotten banned from the kitchen in High school”

Dick’s eyes widened mischievously and he made another Ooooooooo expression. Jason pretended to crack his neck above Dick’s line of sight but shot Bruce a sharp look before he steered Dick towards the kitchen; calling for Alfred. It was dangerously spiteful.

Tim looked at Bruce, “What was that?” he asked. Bruce looked at his 2 youngest, suddenly feeling strange to not have to maintain a facade. Tim was obviously still very upset with Bruce’s cover story as well, “I ran Dick’s blood again, that’s probably the result”

Damian’s bro lifted, “Again? Father, Drake and I ran it 6 times already”

Bruce’s shoulders sagged, “I know” he acknowledged, “But I’m doing it for my own sanity”

Tim crossed his arms and glared, “Bruce, stop getting ahead of yourself. It’s obvious you’re already trying to figure out how to keep Dick from turning back into an enhanced talon before we even know how to make sure he sizes up correctly again. Then feeding him that fake story about a mission in front of us; Jason had to help you cover!”

For the briefest of moments, the barest of breaths, Bruce was tempted to ask if they had to. What god or law was in place that would require Bruce to force his son back into the arms of adulthood and a crazed obsessive killer. He brushed aside the words layering his lips with a sound of disgruntlement. Tim crossed his arms and darted his gaze to their left, confirming that Jason had Dick preoccupied with their new fancy double-door fridge, “What the fuck were you thinking?” he asked.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Tim’s tone but the young man didn’t back down, “You told Dick that he was willingly undercover with the League of Shadows?”

“Telling him that he woke up in Wilson’s bedroom because he chose to go to bed there would have been far worse” Bruce hissed.

Tim narrowed his eyes, “When Dick is normal again, because he is going to be, he is going to be pissed at how we warped this narrative on him”

Bruce narrowed his eyes but Damian stepped in, “Not that I think lying to him is the best solution, father has a point. Do you really think being truthful with him would be any better?”

Tim released a hot angry breath, “You can’t even look at him straight, Damian” Tim exclaimed under his breath.

Damian’s eyes went wide before they narrowed in spite, “You’re just angry-”

“Of course I’m angry!” Tim threw up his hands, “It’s obvious that Dick was drowning, barely managing on his own with Deathstroke, but now we have all the proof we need that Dick is in danger! He's in over his head. Are we really overlooking the fact that our big brother came running back to us because some magic turned him into a kid with no memories?!”

Bruce watched his son vent and rant but didn't say anything. How could he when Tim was venting the commentary they were all thinking and feeling? His son was lashing out but only because there was so much that was still unknown and unsolvable….they were bats, their purpose was to solve and fix things…heal people, and remove obstacles and danger. He knew it was more than hurtful to see their oldest brother be the one exception who refused to be saved over and over again. Bruce stepped forward and reached out the same way he did to Dick, grateful when Tim didn't pull away. He glowered though. Bruce clasped him on the shoulder, “We are going to protect your brother and figure out how to fix him; there’s no doubt about that. But humor my hopeless ideas for a bit will you? We have Dick away from Deathstroke and at the moment, he wants to be here. That’s plain to see” They both dragged their gazes down to the left where Jason and Dick were taking up kitchen space.

Dick was perched on the kitchen counter in front of a larger, looming Jason. Jason was grinning ear to ear as Dick dropped a fistful of chocolate chips into the green mixing bowl in his arms. Beside them, Alfred was idly washing his hands and dishes in the sink, but his lips hadn’t been pulled apart in such a smile in so long. It made Bruce’s chest ache to see that kind of emotion affecting every inch of the older man’s face. Jason said something, pulling the bowl away before Dick stopped him with a hand on his arm. The younger dark-haired boy said something back, a sly grin gracing his lips when Alfred stopped ashing his hands and cut a stern look at the boy, wagging a wet finger at him.

Dick shied away and ducked his head with a smile, but it wasn't long until he glanced back up to Jason who was watching him with an expectant smirk. Alfred departed to place some bowls and cups in a further cupboard when Dick took his opportunity. He leaned closer to Jason, his legs swinging over the edge of the counter with a youthful energy that hadn't been seen in the house since Jason first died. Jason offered one side of his head, his bleached hair falling across his forehead, when he reared back with wide eyes. A pleased smug grin speared his lower face and he started to chuckle under his breath. Dick, egged on by Jason’s reaction to whatever he said smirked back, but it quickly devolved into fits of giggles and more chocolate chips. 

Bruce gripped Tim tighter, pulling his son back from the kitchen scene, “Be with him” he encouraged, "Experience another version of your brother that I’ve only ever seen. Jason has only ever been a little brother and we know that despite Dick’s feelings towards me, he loves you guys”

“He doesn’t even know us” Damian sneered. His face made it look like he was trying to be sharp-edged and cutting, but his tonality was soft and forlorn.

Bruce nodded, “So meet him again. Dick will have to go back to being an adult but there’s no reason this period of his life should be dark or gloomy”

Tim looked at Bruce uncertainty, and Bruce inclined his head, “Go have fun” he encouraged, “No league business or Light operations. Go be brothers. I know I have asked a lot of you all over the last few years but do this for Alfred, if not me, please”

The last word seemed to have an effect on Tim and his gaze became lidded, finding comfort in the carpet at their feet. Bruce saw that Tim was more reflective than receptive at the moment and didn't want to push too hard. Tim had always been an introvert so he most likely wouldn't jump into the fray whereas Dick and Jason had always been fantastic for each other because they were extroverts on opposite ends of the scale. Jason was always ready for a fight and adrenaline rush whereas Dick wanted to watch comedies and go to parties.

Bruce gave a reassuring nod to Damian and clasped him on the shoulder as he departed to the cave, “I know he’s smiling but he’s still trying to adjust. Go prove he can trust you, like Jason”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce had hoped the tension and weighted blanket invisibly lining his shoulders would disappear when he entered the cave but that didn't prove true as he stepped within sight of the bats that hosted his cave.

Bruce instantly spotted the completed blood scan analysis across the desktop in the medbay. In a vertical capsule holder beside it, 5 more dark red vials sat still as ever, proving Dick was as human as ever. It made sense, all things considered, accordinging to Cobb and Slade Dick had needed to die to initiate the electrum start-up along his white blood cell track. The additional… fortification experiments that Cobb put Dick through after were unrelated and unnecessary. Dick wasn’t 15 though, he was younger which meant Jason hadn’t died and Dick hadn’t run after the Joker to exact reckless vengeance. 

Bruce preemptively bit his cheek and looked directed at the blood vials, desperately hoping to focus on something strong enough to combat the flashing images pushing at the recesses of his mind. 

 

Jason’s casket

 

Alfred’s disapproving look when Dick wasn't standing beside them at the graveyard

Dick's disbelieving face when he found out, trying to convince himself Jason was hiding around the corner

Dick’s sideways stare of distrust

Dick’s shocked expression the moment the first GPD bullet tore through his chest

 

The jerking motion his torso made in response to pain so quick and sudden

 

Dick’s bloodied-

 

Bruce picked up the most recent vial, noting that it was just as dark and harmless looking as the rest. The equipment Bruce had borrowed from Leslie and Barry long ago had become part of his reliable medical abuse now. Bruce glanced at the computer, noting the scan results had transferred and he now had 6 of the same body scan composition reports. Bruce glared down at the glass tube in his fingers, hating how all the options and opportunities placed before him still worked against his greater goal. If they somehow managed to keep Dick human or didn't offer him back up to Wilson on a platter to correct the magical curse, how would he save Dick in the long run?

Dick and Wilson weren't wrong to acknowledge that if the electrum wasn't initiated when Dick was a young man then he would've woken up as an old man with half the amount of family and even less understanding of the uncontrollable urges and bodily potential. Bruce placed the blood-filled tube beside the others in the test tube rack before shutting off the hematology analyzer. He turned to make his way back upstairs to his boys when a small flashing alert caught his attention. It was still flashing, showing that it had gone unresponded to, but it was silent so it must have run out of the allotted sounds a new message made when received.

Bruce strode forward and leaned over the computer before accepting the message. Batman and Bruce Wayne had various protocols in place to intercept and store messages that triggered digital threat guidelines. He pulled up the message, noting that it was sent from another laptop or PC by someone anonymous. Bruce furrowed his brow as he allowed the message to load fully, displaying the entirety of its contents. Whoever had sent this message had managed to convince his software that it wasn't a threat while not providing any substantial tracking information: no name or IP address or time stamp. There wasn’t much to the message but Bruce’s stomach dropped and flipped all the same. 

“I’m coming for him”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“You know we’re gonna have to decide whether or not we’ll tell everybody else” Tim leaned in and whispered to Jason. In front of them, Dick was schooling Damian in Go Maid and frustrating the older boy to the point of it being comical. 

Jason maintained his large grin but eyed Tim sideways, “We won't be” he said simply.

Tim shrugged, taking the answer as definite and leaning back, “Well if they find out. It might be worse than when they found out Dick was alive” he said simply, “Wally might actually do something serious”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Dick doesn't know them, not really” he said, “He doesn't know Wally as a freaking 24-year-old or Dinah with wrinkles. Dick is gonna be back to normal soon and forcing them to interact would do nothing but make this whole thing worse...way worse”

Tim crossed his arms and slouched back in his seat, “Like he doesn't know you?”

Jason was silent while they watched Dick snatch the cards from Damian with a sly grin. The dark-haired boy tried shuffling them together before he gave up and started to messily spread them out on the floor. Tim chanced a glance at Jason, knowing the older boy had heard him but Jason’s face was firmly set in a frown. He felt Tim’s eyes on him, but responded without looking, “Dick will always know me…know us”

As if to convince himself more than Tim he nodded his chin at Damian and Dick, “Just look at them”

Damian was biting his tongue while he suffered through Dick’s miserable attempts to sort their card deck. They were now onto UNO, one of Dick’s favorites. Dick looked up at Damian and froze, a small embarrassed smile coming to his lips, “Sorry" he said slowly. He pushed the cards towards Damian, “I can tell you’re OCD and particular…like B” he said, “You can shuffle them”

Damian seemed surprised by Dick’s admission. He stiffed his lip and sat back, “No, it’s alright” he grumbled, “I have been told I am too expectant and overbearing as it is. Proceed” he ordered.

Dick beamed and continued, “Let me know if the OCD gets too OCD and you can take over,” Dick said as he focused on the cards. He finally got the cards situated to his liking and gave them each 7 before harumphing in a much deeper tone and pinning Damian with a stern look, “Damian” he began, “Can I call ya Dami?” he asked in a brutish Boston tone. He blinked, too caught up in the facade to notice the way Damian’s through bobbed, “Damian it is-”

Bruce rounded the corner with such severe quickness that Dick turned abruptly, “B?” he asked, concern coating his voice. Jason and Tim turned to spot Bruce in the kitchen doorway. Their father’s dark blue eyes roamed each of them with an intensity that triggered their bat senses, “I need to talk with Jason” Bruce supplied thickly. Jason stood up and gave an overly cheerful smile to Dick who smiled back less certainly. Jason quickly flashed Damian a knowing look before he turned to meet Bruce in the foyer, “I gotta pee” Tim said casually. He stood and exited across the other end of the kitchen before taking the long hallway back to Bruce and Jason as well.

“What?” Jason was hissing at Bruce.

Bruce nodded, looking haggard, “Just keep Dick safe and in the dark for now,” he said, his tone nearly begging, but not quite there.

“What’s going on?” Tim hissed as he stepped in close. Bruce looked up towards the kitchen and narrowed his eyes before gesturing for his boys to follow him into a spare room on the first floor. Jason closed the door behind them, “You scared about Dickie listening?” he joked, “The demon brat is watching him”

Bruce leveled him a look, “Dick was harder to keep track of when it was just me and him. He would've found a way to listen” he turned to Tim, “Deathstroke sent a message. It wasn’t encrypted-it was just a statement saying that he’s coming to collect Dick”

Tim’s eyes widened. They were all prepared for this possibility being more of a reality but it was still startling, “Do you think we could barter with him?” he prodded, “Get him to tell us what happened in exchange for Dick?”

Bruce’s nostrils flared, “We are not giving him Dick. He’s a child” 

Jason rounded on Bruce, “No Shit- but he won’t be forever” he saw something in Bruce’s face that seemed to trigger him, “Right?!”

He looked at Tim incredulously like he needed support conveying his message or confirming what they were both seeing on their dad’s face. Tim seethed at Bruce, “I knew you would do this from that first introduction” he accused, “I saw it on your face. You think you can keep Dick here and as a kid, completely oblivious”

Jason barked out a sound that could almost be a laugh, “We’ve gotta turn him back to normal, Bruce” he said like it was more than a fact, “Dick can’t even integrate into life here-like this” he gestured towards the door, “All his friends are like 15 years older than him or some shit. That's fucked up B. What? You expect Dick to just act like it’s cool all his friends got to grow up without him? He’ll never remember that! And that’s the baseline” Jason motioned his palm to the ground, “You're taking a seriously fucked up diagnosable guy and forcing him to stay like this?” Jason threw up his hands, “I don't want to be a big brother to anyone!”

Bruce narrowed his eyes but didn't respond. Tim did, “We are turning Dick back and we all know that once Dick is back to normal he’s more than likely going to leave again. That was your decision, Bruce, remember? You decided to support Dick’s stupid ideas as some warped long-term attempt to gain his trust back”

Bruce’s jaw tensed and twitched but his sons weren't done, “You know we’re right. You can’t go on and on about how we’re leaving Dick with that old perv to give let him make his own decisions and then rob him of the decision to turn back to himself!”

“He is himself” Bruce rumbled, “Being a different age doesn't make Dick less of himself-”

“It does” Jason hissed so furiously he felt his ears pop. For a second, he thought the tan wallpaper in the spare office they’d taken over was lime green. It was only for a second but it was enough for Jason’s breath to catch and for him to look over Bruce's shoulder, desperate to confirm. By the next blink, the boring tan wallpaper was back and so was Jason’s ire, “Dick’s been through hell. He was killed and experimented on and tortured and abandoned and he’s cried so fucking much” Jason’s throat felt tight and wet and clogged within the span of a few words. He looked away from Bruce’s softening brow to focus on the large wooden desk behind them, “He’s recovered from so much” he said thickly, “That” he pointed aggressively toward the door, “Is not Dick. It might've been when I was fucking 12 or 13. But that is not Dick-not anymore. Alfred can’t remember him like that anymore and I can barely either. Damian and Tim have never met that kid. You” he pointed at Bruce, “Are the only one who’s forcing Dick and this kid to be the same person”

Bruce gnashed his teeth, “He should at least have the option-”

“No, Bruce” Tim said, “He doesn't fully know or understand what his other option would be. That’s unfair. He has to go back. We need to change him back” Tim glanced at Jason, noting how the blue veins beneath his skin seemed to be bulging along his wrists and neck, “We need to speak with Deathstroke. Figure out what happened to Dick” he insisted. Jason felt Tim’s attention and seemed aggravated to pull his angry blazing green gaze from Bruce’s.

He looked at Tim eventually and nodded, “We need to find out what we can, and then when we change Dick back in a safe way…then we can deal with this whole ‘is he gonna go back with Slade thing’”

Bruce watched Jason as if surprised by his last statement, “You would be open to Dick leaving Deathstroke?” he inquired softly.

Jason snorted angrily, “Of course I fucking would. None of us want him with Slade. I don't fucking care what happens with the Light. We can handle that some other way. But if I’m being honest, I guess there could have been something to happen that would make Goldenboy wanna come home…maybe” he added petulantly. 

Bruce leaned back until his palms found the edge of the large wooden desk at his back. He lowered himself until he could lean back against the edge of the desk. For a while,e they stared at the same carpeted ground and breathed the same tense air. Jason’s breath was the loudest as he fought back the urging green that tempted and shimmered along the edges of his vision. The wallpaper hadn't changed colors again but his periphery wasn’t a consistent color during his frustration. Tim watched them both with unease but forced himself to take large deep breaths; the same ones Dick had taught him to abide and minimize his panic attacks.

He knew how sensitive emotions and sensory perceptions were, especially in a family like theirs. Bruce and Jason might not physically show a reaction to it, but his relaxation would help in small little ways, it is why Dick always claimed to crack a joke earlier than appropriate. The human mind picked up on much more than consciously aware of. Hormones, smells, and behavior impacted those around you heavily.

“Alright,” Bruce said suddenly. Before he could acknowledge Jason’s aggravated frown or Tim’s surprise he strode towards the door and yanked it open, making his way back to the kitchen. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Are you clear on how to proceed?” Slade’s eye roamed over his small group of men. He’d taken Falcon with him to collect 1 more man at a New York base before heading to Gotham. He’d left Eerie in charge of his men in Nanda Parbat and Wildact as backup. The spare soldier, temporarily named J nodded, “Yes sir” he replied.

Falcon glanced at him before squaring her shoulders, “Sir, if I could…”

“Yes?” Slade intoned. He should have expected Dick’s soldiers to have a more entitled attitude, expected and familiar with getting their own questions and concerns addressed by higher-ups.

“May I inquire as to why Renegade is with Batman? What capacity is he in, to where he is unable to free himself and return?”

J looked at Falcon in surprise before turning to Slade, curious as well. Slade nodded and crossed his arms, “You’re familiar with Klarion?”

Kris’s lips turned down instantaneously. Slade found that amusing so he persisted, “Tell me what you know of him-what you’ve seen”

“Sir?”

“His interactions with Renegade have led to an unfortunate outcome and delay in my other operations and jobs. What you’ve seen when I haven't been witness to the witch and my apprentice is needed information”

She still looked uncertain and Slade fought for the polite tone of voice Dick used when wanting to draw out the friendlier side of his subordinates, “Speak freely” The way her gaze glanced over his form told Slade all he needed to know about his ability to appear approachable. Luckily, his line of work didn't rely on that skill factor.

“Klarion, the witch employed by Queen Bee, has been a nuisance, but never a problem…until now”

Slade hummed low in his throat, “Until now?” he repeated.

“Yes, sir. He likes to...persist around Renegade’s quarters and speak with him, but Renegade was never interested in his or Psimon’s company”

Slade nodded, “Yes, Renegade and his old Martian teammate had a very unfortunate experience with Queen Bee’s underlings. I’m not surprised it’s left a bad taste in my student’s mouth”

Falcon nodded, “Renegade usually ignored him, sometimes he made small remarks or requested he leave the guest quarters, but recently his remarks have been…unsavory”

Slade smirked, grateful for his mask, “Unsavory?”

She nodded, “Crude, rude, derogatory, inciteful”

Slade nodded, amused, “Renegade’s been picking a fight has he?”

She nodded, “I do want to report that it appears two-sided. Klarion’s presence and words have become more persistent and aggressive so it became harder for Renegade to simply ignore him and his images”

Slade rolled his eye, “My apprentice is not afforded any level of weakness because his temper got the best of him. Explain what you mean by these images?”

She responded quickly but Slade saw the hesitancy to betray her commanding officer. It lined her eyes and wrinkled the skin around her mouth, “I am unsure how magical users work, Sir, but Klarion knows a level about each of us that was always unsettling. Renegade ordered us not to interact because Klarion was mentally unstable, but every now and then he showed Renegade these images and it invoked a worse response in Renegade each time”

“Were you present for these incidents?”

“Yes sir. I believe it was all one-sided mental hallucinatory though because I could never see anything myself and Renegade strictly prohibited us from reporting this unless it caused an issue”

“Like now” Slade supplied.

“...Like now” 

Slade hummed. He greatly disliked that Dick had been hiding this from him. He knew the boy was a prideful bird but he should have seen it as an opportunity for Slade to step in and rid them of Klarion, another power source for Queen Bee. There was also the underlying potential that this was not a delusion conjured by Klarion, but merely ephasized and worsened by him. Slade knew Dick had suffered from delusions and hallucinations for a while. They were made worse by seizures, certain drugs, and types of incidents like at Queen Bee’s excavation site. Dick did an adequate enough job of reporting them to Slade or admitting them under his master’s pestering inquires, but if the boy had begun to see things again Slade would have to look into it. He and his little bird had been riding a very peaceful high for a while now and there should not have been any reason for Dick to be seeing things that weren't there. He was taking his self-medicated drugs every other week to enforce a low on his body’s electrum and was completing successful missions each week on top of it. Additionally, he’d just removed 2 more barriers keeping him from his grandfather’s ultimate demise…the boy should have no underlying stress or fear that would incite unreliable images of the mind.

He glanced at Falcon, “As for your previous questions, Soldier. Renegade has been targeted by Klarion’s magic. He is currently a child, approximately 13 to 14 years old-with the mental state to match”

Falcon’s eyes went wide with disbelief. Slade was tempted to remind her not to forget herself but she composed herself quickly, “Reneagde returned to Batman willingly then, Sir?”

Slade nodded and glanced at J, “I expect it goes without saying that any spread of this information will be dealt with swiftly and permanently”

J nodded before Falcon could.

“Sir, I understand how we are to proceed but outside of reclaiming Renegade, are there any plans set in motion to return him to normal?”

Slade nodded, “I’ve messaged the Bat already. He is aware that I’m here and waiting. I’ll allow him to hand over Renegade peacefully before we move in and take him by force. The light is already aware of the situation and has Klarion on stand-by for teleportation services and to revert the effects on my apprentice”

Falcon nodded, “Understood. J has our secondary weapons pack and the cryo shots prepared in case all parties are resistant”

Slade nodded and dropped his arms, “That won't be needed”

Falcon nodded but asked, “Renegade will be too small or vulnerable to resist properly?”

Slade shook his head, “No, Renegade is currently the age of Robin. A very experienced original Robin at that, the boy will prove plenty difficult if he were to join the fight in his retrieval and removal. The cryo capsules aren't necessary because Renegade is no longer meta”

Falon and J looked just as stunned as when they were informed Renegade was a child, “He’s human?” J spoke without realizing. Slade swiveled his gaze to him and the man froze stuck between the urge to keep silent and apologize. He knew that it was most likely a grave shock to realize that Robin, the Boy Wonder, hadn't always been a meta. Most would assume so just from his ability to keep up with the Bat in the field.

“Not” Slade spoke deadly and venomously, realizing how little patience he had for inquires, “That is is any of your concern, but this status will not be maintained. Once he has been..corrected, his age and body will be reverted back to before. Do not underestimate the boy merely because he is younger and human. Batman’s original Robin caught my attention long before he was meta. If anything, he will possibly prove to be a more difficult obstacle because he may be actively working against us. It is unclear what Batman has been filling his head with”

“We may be lucky, Sir” Falcon said, “It’s only been a little over a day”

Slade glowered and his shoulders seemed to inflate almost double, “And it may very well be another entire day before we reach Renegade. Do not make the mistake of underestimating Batman or I will leave you to suffer his pathetic justice” Slade spat, “The man has a reputation for a reason, and as blindsided and prideful as he can be, he is known as the world’s greatest detective for a reason” Slade spoke it like he was furious at being forced to admit to anything regarding the potential of the Bat.

Slade stiffened and relaxed his shoulders, “As I said, I’ve sent the Bat a message. He has 24 hours to deliver Renegade to us or we move in and take him by force”

“By force? Sir?” Falcon confirmed. She wasn't questioning him per se, but knew Renegade cared deeply for the Bat and his Robins. Slade picked up on her tonality and she was grateful for the moments Renegade had forced them into the presence of his master. The moments where he cracked jokes or forced a level of informality between them all, just for a meager familiarity between her and the Colonel at this moment.

He dipped his head, “By force, but not by any means necessary” he clarified. She nodded understanding that Slade wasn't prepared to face his heir’s wrath over his injured or deceased brothers.

Chapter 29

Notes:

Hey!

Sorry this ch has a biiiit of inside monologuing and a looooot of talking. Sets up next ch easier

 

 

The last 24 hours, even the previous 24 hours before that, had been an absolute dream for Bruce. Not in the perfect sense, but moreso in the way that someone might exist in a stupor and wonder the extent of their reality. Dick took to Jason like a fish in water. He seemed to react with the ease of a comfortable older brother but responded with the giddy excitement of an eager younger brother. Bruce wasn’t sure if it looked strange to him because Dick was interacting with his younger brothers in such a way or if Dick’s behavior truly had altered slightly.

He was watching them from the kitchen while Alfred refilled his 4th cup of coffee. He hadn’t slept a wink since Dick returned but Alfred, for the first time in 20 years, didn't admonish him for it. They all wanted to remain wide awake and aware of every second Dick was back in their arms, happy and smiling, “Thank you Alfred” Bruce murmured as he pulled the cup to his lips.

Alfred was looking at the same thing he was but answered half aware, “Of course, Sir”

Dick was currently wrestling Jason in the largest living room, but it had devolved until it was a brotherly beat down by all accounts. Jason was twisting and bucking as Dick lay across his torso, trying to pin just one wrist. Damian sat across his legs and Tim was half-heartedly offering support to pin down his remaining arm. Jason was out of breath and smiling manically wide, “You dick!” he laughed out. 

He wrenched his arm free and Dick gasped, “Get him!’ he cried at Tim. Tim laughed and lunged for Jason’s escaping arm, “I’m trying!”

Dick squealed as Jason brought his free arm up and over him, rolling them both until Dick was pinned underneath him, “Oooompf!” Dick groaned out. Jason’s sweatpants-covered legs were slightly tensed as he kept his dead weight off Dick’s lithe form, only crushing him controllably with his chest. Dick produced a full-bellied laugh as he giggled uncontrollably and struggled beneath Jason’s behemoth weight. Jason pretended to go limp and squash Dick even more but Bruce saw how his socked feet went stiff as he withheld some degree of his weight. Dick did his best to force Jason up and off as he put his hands beneath him in a pushup but Jason gave a mighty lion’s yawn before collapsing fully, crushing Dick with another grunt and a squeak, “Hey!” he managed.

Jason looked down, “Oh, sorry,” he said, as if just realizing Dick was below him. The young boy grinned in a challenging way and jerked his elbow up into Jason’s sternum. The older boy let out a soundless gasp and pretended to die as he clutched his chest. Dick laughed again, the sound high and wonderful as he shoved at Jason’s right side until the older boy was rolled off of him. Tim laughed as Damian nodded approvingly, commenting on how Dick could improve the angle of his elbow. Jason sat up, “That actually hurt” he complained, still rubbing his chest.

Tim laughed and rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah”

Bruce couldn't get enough of it. He refused to blink, and refused to sleep. Every time Dick laughed his head felt like those strange soft moments after a concussion where your head was ringing slightly, but not in pain. Dick’s laughter was addictive and a full-hearted one; his cheeks were spread like his face hurt but he couldn't stop the actual smiles. 

Dick caught his breath as he leaned back, “I think we ruined the cards”

They looked around at the shredded and crumpled UNO cards, “That’s fine” Tim waved him off, “We can pick another”

“BS!” Jason hissed in excitement. He looked at a puzzled Dick, “I’m gonna teach you BS”

He reached behind himself at the media center and pulled out a standard pack of cards. He looked back at Dick, “I smoke you all the time, playing this”

Dick’s brow broke in puzzlement and he studied the cards in Jason’s hands like they were at fault, “Really?”

“Be on my team, Richard. I won’t allow Todd’s fake rules to dismantle your honor”

Dick quirked a brow before beaming. He found Damian hilarious and heartwarming. The way he spoke was strange enough to be amusing to Dick, but Damian’s instance to support or defend Dick in such dramatic ways touched the young boy.

Tim rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Don't listen to him. Jason taught you all sorts of made-up games and rules when you guys were kids and every time you spoke up he’d say those are street rules”

Dick’s eyes jumped to Tim and they could all see the disruption that broke through the blue waters of his eyes. Dick was still a kid, at least he felt like that. Biologically he was, and in his mind, he'd never grown up. He was simplistically putting his faith and trust in Bruce, and 3 strangers, that his reality wasn’t accurate- wasn’t genuine. 

Alfred chose that moment to enter the room, “While I admire Master Jason’s attempts to enlighten Master Dick about the ways of street cards, I suggest you boys break for some food. You can always attempt BS later” he said BS like it was a foreign language. The boys were once again reminded of how young Dick was when he jumped to his feet with a woop of agreement. He fell into a seamless handstand and waddled after Alfred quite casually. Jason stared after the upside-down boy, “Did he seriously just do that?”

Tim laughed in response when Damian suddenly turned on them, “So?” he demanded in a whisper.

Tim arched an unimpressed eyebrow, “What?” 

Damian scowled, “Deathstroke” he hissed in a whisper, “What is being done about his threat?”

Tim scowled back and shushed him. Damian waved him off, “Richard does not have advanced hearing anymore”

“He’s the OG Robin, idiot” Jason spat under his breath, “Ask Bruce if you're so concerned”

Damian crossed his arms, “Father is keeping me in the dark and only requesting that I watch Richard”

“So watch him,” Tim said simply.

Damian hissed like a cat, “I will not be sidelined in something so important. Deathstroke is coming and I demand to know what is happening”

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes, “B responded back basically saying that we’d be willing to talk if he gives up info on what happened to Dick and how to fix him”

They looked over their shoulder to where Dick was helping Alfred with plates. Bruce stood by with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his face as he said something unintelligible to their ears.

“It's weird”

“Dick?”

Damian shook his head, “No, Father. Well… yes, Richard too, but Father is putting on quite the facade”

Jason snorted and Damian whipped his head around to seeth at him. Tim folded his legs beneath him, “Chill, Damian. He's not laughing at you. It is weird, you're right. But this Bruce is genuine, just not for us”

“Only his special Robin” Jason sneered like a besotten teen. Damian frowned, “Father and Richard do have a special connection but Father is acting strange, it's plain”

Tim seemed to chuckle slightly, “It’s only strange for us” he reminded him, “This what Dick grew up with. This is the Bruce that adopted him”

Jason leaned into Damian’s personal space bubble to the point where the younger boy cringed and tried to lean away, “This little spoiled ray of sunshine is what took up alllll Bruce’s attention. The magazines were so confused by their favorite playboy not slutting it up in the streets of Gotham they started printing shit about Dickie. They called Bruce a pedo and said Dick was a victim, they said Dick was what Bruce needed to get his shit together and actually be an adult, some even said that Bruce needed to just pick a lady and stick with her for once so Dick would have a mom” Jason laughed, “Ahhhh, good times”

Damian sneered a disgusted look, “Do not joke about such scandals” he admonished.

Tim lifted a brow, “It’s true though, Damian. Dick got everyone’s attention. Bruce was a good dad until this asshole” he jerked a thumb at Jason, “The paparazzi ate it up. Loved how Bruce brought Dick everywhere”

“Got to play daddy for a good handful of years” Jason agreed in a snide tone.

Damian crossed his arms, “Watch your tone, Todd”

Jason narrowed his arms, “What?” he asked seriously.

Damian didn't back down, “Richard may understand that your tone and words aren't genuine but this Richard does not understand that you don't hate him”

Jason opened his mouth for a quick, sharp rebuttal but stopped, unsure of what to snap at the younger boy…he was right. Kid Dick and he were best friends, best brothers. They were close and shared trauma bonded as children. Jason had even been connected to Dick at the hip, scared and uncertain in the beginning. He’d been harder than Dick in a sense, more roughed up from seeing his mother OD and his father take to crime, but Jason had relied on Dick an immeasurable amount to navigate Wayne Manor and high society. It wasn’t until they both got to be a little older, that Dick became the type of person to adapt and mold to fit his environment better, and Jason grew to resemble a brick wall-immovable and stern against most forces. People didn't like him, teachers didn't like him…but that was fine- he and Dick had each other’s backs no matter how different they were or how well they did in school. He still remembered the backlash and looks Dick got when he brought Jason to all the school hang-out spots or the secret parties that Bruce assumed were study sessions. 

Then Jason died, or rather Bruce let him die. If he were to be honest, which he would never do to Bruce’s face, he would admit that being late to that warehouse wasn't the old man’s fault. He tried…he did, but he was late and Jason couldn’t just wish he was 3 minutes faster. That was pointless and petty, but it didn't mean that blaming someone didn't make him feel a little less shattered and shitty on the inside. Over time, Jason found that accepting the grouchy angry desire to lash out at people soothed a cracked part of him. Dick, everyone’s favorite people pleaser, caught on immediately and met Jason’s sharp crassness with short witty quips and jokes, taking his insults head-on and in stride. 

“I fuckin’ know that” Jason crossed his arms, hating the rare moment of emotional intelligence from the demon brat.

“Come on” Tim motioned, “Let’s go eat. We can’t do anything about Deathstroke until he responds to Bruce’s terms” he pushed himself to his feet and stared down at his brothers with a smirk, “Besides, that kind of philosophical talk probably just drained the only remaining brain cell between you”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce stared at the message on the screen. It felt like Wilson’s response was looking back at him with the same knowing smugness the man himself always seemed to hold. As if any reaction he managed to bolster from someone was the exact response he’d intended to, it was an intelligent response to fall back on as it always left your opponent reeling and feeling like they were playing into your hands; it infuriated Bruce. The human blockade of a mercenary had responded back and agreed to Bruce’s terms. They were due to meet within the next 48 hours, where Slade would divulge what and how this magical curse was placed on Dick. Bruce knew the underlying implication of their meeting would end with Dick in the killer’s clutches again, but he refused to allow that. At least not until Dick was an adult again and chose to walk away from Bruce himself. He’d never send his son away against his will, especially not to someone he so blatantly saw as a threat to his life. 

He heard the faint thump of heavy footsteps closer to the stairs and knew Dick probably had the boys running around again. There was a soft spot along the carpet and floorboards but Bruce had insisted that Alfred keep it so that he could always have an ear to the floor above him, especially since it ran along the hallway that the Grandfather clock, and the entrance to the Batcave, was nestled along. He knew he’d have to make the boys aware of Deathstroke’s presence eventually. Jason’s decision to acknowledge him, speak to him, and work with him varied from day to day and Damian seemed to want to take a front seat to everything concerning Dick, especially in the riskiest operations.

He wasn’t sure how to proceed with Dick though. Bruce knew he had options and that Dick’s trust in him, in them, would work to their advantage to attend this impromptu meeting, but Bruce could only imagine how horribly it would go once Dick realized they had spoken to and conspired with Deathstroke. Bruce dragged his glare at the ceiling, down to the floor. He hated what he needed to do, what was being required of him…what 25-year-old Dick would want in the end. He utterly hated, despised… abhorred the look he knew would be plastered on his son’s face. The fear and shock, the confusion and distrust as he tried to understand why they were partnering with the paid killer. Dick would try to hide his feeling of course, even when he didn't mean to. Bruce had already caught him placing a facade on his own features- smiling when he wasn't genuinely happy or offering a calm silent expression when he was irritated or frustrated. 

A sudden cacophony of worries and anguish overrode his mental landscape and offered him a quick glimpse of Dick’s troubled, stricken face when he realized who had come and why. In his mind’s eye, Dick, still a young lithe, stick of a boy with a black mop of hair. He took a step back as he glanced from Batman to Deathstroke. Dick would look even more troubled when Wilson would take the opportunity to unsettle them all, referring to uncomfortable things that only he and their true Dick would know and remember. This cursed Dick would be confused and terrified, feeling betrayed at how Bruce kept anything like this from him. There was no way Bruce would ever explain to his young son, his first son, that he was reversing the magical curse on him so that they could return him to Slade Wilson. It still sounded ludicrous to Bruce’s ears, years after it had already taken place. He wouldn't even try, couldn't try. He knew he wouldn't make it past the look of betrayal on Dick’s face as he tried to explain. No, Bruce knew it was more efficient to leave Dick in the dark until they were ready and prepared to reverse the curse on him. It had very little to do with Bruce’s own emotional insecurities and fears, it was just a coincidence that the best course moving forward also freed Bruce of any emotional obligation to cause his son further turmoil and distress earlier than necessary. 

There was so much that he hated about seeing his son so young and naive to what he’d so willingly do as an adult. Both versions of Dick were so similar and yet so vastly different. Every time he looked at this past version of his son, he still saw the same vast determination that always lingered in his bright gaze, but this time without the underlying tones of yellow and gold. Every time Dick smirked, he saw the same firmness in his jaw and the same dimples in his cheek, only this time Bruce wasn’t privy to blood splatter across his son’s face. He knew he wasn't the only one. The boys weren't as obvious in their glances or remarks because not all of them were present to see Dick truly experience being young, and even then, Jason had been a child as well. He’d lived side by side with Dick, he didn't help raise Dick, didn't pack his lunches, and received phone calls from teachers. Dick looked to everyone for praise and to reflect the happiness he hoped he projected, but he always looked at adults differently. Always looked up to them with an extra little shinning in his eyes that expressed his underlying desperation for approval and warm confirmation-affirmation that would help heal the cracks of his parents' abrupt and bloody deaths.

He knew this because he saw the ways Alfred struggled to interact with Dick over the last 2 days. The older man had dismissed concerns over his shaking at least 6 times now, claiming to be an old man with old man worries. But Bruce knew. He knew how hard it was to see him and not swoop Dick’s lean bony shoulders against him for a hug and to never let go. The stinging in his eyes and the tightness in the back of his throat seemed never-ending and persistent. 

Bruce knew his sons would never humor his self-deprecating tendencies, even on good days. Jason would scoff in his face and Damain would roll his eyes, both unable to allow Bruce’s firm strong figure any sentimentality or vulnerable weaknesses. Tim would remind Bruce how his efforts were better spent on his topic of worry so that those feelings didn't fester and plague his mind and body. Dick would no doubt try to alleviate Bruce’s worries and despairs with efforts towards him instead of barrages and critiques against him. It was just another reminder that Bruce would rather forget if not for the fact that he refused to allow any more of Dick to escape him, his memories, or his reach.

Bruce despised the way Dick looked at him…like it took effort on Dick’s part, which Dick used to so effortlessly offer him smiles and genuineness. He wasn’t even sure if Dick was aware of what he was doing. The way he tensed every time Bruce re-entered the room, or when he became aware of taller looming figures around and above his shoulders, causing the trained boy’s instincts to scream and strain below the surface, confusing the already frazzled child as he sought to find the monster’s in his home. The monsters that his overly trained instincts mistook his brothers to be. The brothers he’d met but did not remember. The brother that he’d killed for but couldn't grasp.

He saw the stress and tension lining Dick’s eyes as he glanced at Bruce’s hair often, looking for the grey streaks to have suddenly disappeared. He saw the way Dick’s glances and overly stretched smiles looked to the corners of his eyes and lips, Alfred’s too. He knew Dick was trying, but he was trying to believe it was all a dream and that he just had to wake up and attend school with his only brother the next morning. It was a hurtful troubling thought that speared Bruce’s insides every time he acknowledged those looks from Dick. Bruce knew that there was little point in pointing out the unfairness and inequities in life. That was part of the purpose behind Batman: to minimize the injustice and inequalities in Gotham without taking away from others. But Bruce couldn't stop the feeling that churned in his gut and rattled his brain and itched his skin like uneven broken nails….This isn't fair. Being able to see his son like this and know that he couldn't keep him. Life was being cruel to Bruce, and after everything he had suffered and forced his household to suffer with him….well it just wasn't fair. 

But it was pointless to even acknowledge it. Doing so, wouldn't change a thing.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“You what?” Damian demanded.

Bruce quieted him down with a single glare and they all waited with bated breath, hoping not to hear any sounds or signs of waking. Dick had been chomping at Bruce’s heels for an answer on when he could patrol again. Bruce had been able to hold him off with placations about how Dick had only gotten out of Nanda Parbat less than 3 days ago and needed time. Dick had been far too quick to brush off the obvious magical curse that still lay claim to his body, which worried Bruce, but he’d been far more concerned with going out as Robin again, which Bruce could partially understand, seeing as how Dick couldn't remember being anyone else in the field.

Bruce could see that genuine work needed to get done and added 15 ml more than suggested to an already melatonin-infused tea for Dick. Jason had suggested a movie and within 10 minutes, Dick had been out like a light. Bruce and the boys had sequestered themselves down into the Batcave while Alfred took to cleaning the living room and keeping an eye on Dick, who still lay motionless on the couch. After a moment, Bruce let his shoulder drop and resumed their conversation, “It’s what needs to be done, Damian” he insisted firmly.

“No” Damian argued.

Jason cut off the youngest boy, “Are we fucking going to go through this again?” he spat almost savagely, “No matter what, Dick has to be cured of whatever this magic bullshit is. Ideally, he would go back to big-tall-still shorter than me-Dickhead, and realistically" he emphasized, “We all know what Dick will choose when he remembers us again”

Damian became even more incensed, “You know that’s not true” he spat, “Rose Wilson even agrees Richard didn't choose him to choose him. He lost control of himself and his feeble people-pleasing tendencies led him astray! He needs us and needs to know the depth of our support or him-that we can handle him”

“None of that matters Damian” Tim was leaned back and quiet but his tone was firm with hints of a lingering sadness that everyone was feeling but was too riled up to express.

“But at that last mission, he apologized to us-”

“That doesn't matter!”

The boys fell silent as one beneath their father’s bellow. Bruce’s air felt hot and humid, burning his nose and lungs. He didn't want to give his child back to a killer, a corrupt moral-less man, much less convince his remaining sons that it was a good idea. It wasn't a good idea. It didn't make him feel good, it didn't make them or Alfred feel good. And now they knew it didn't even make Dick feel good to be separated from them-at least in some ways….. but it must be done. Bruce was determined to stay true to his promises and allow Dick to make his decision to himself-to exert his own freedom and power over himself. 

He had faith in Dick. His son was experiencing the same darkness that drew Bruce to the League of Shadows. It was the same darkness that created and condemned him to Batman, but Dick and saving others like him was what stopped Batman from becoming something the people of Gotham feared. He knew what Dick was going through-the fear of oneself in conflict with priorities. The need to think of others in such a warped sacrilegious way that it ate at your mind and soul.  

But Dick was his light. Dick Grayson was everybody’s light everybody’s source of motivation, source of happiness, and elation. Bruce had faith in his son to find his own light and use it to claw out of the shadows just as Bruce had. He was aware enough to acknowledge that Batman was his crutch and Nightwing might revert back to Dick’s, but he and his boys were more than willing to be that crutch while Dick found himself. He just despised having to watch Deathstroke believing he’d won. Thinking that he’d not only taken one of Batman’s Robins and corrupted him past acceptance of the cape community, but that he’d turned Dick Grayson. Dick’s heart was too pure, too good intentioned to ever truly be in line with Wilson’s-Dick just needed his own light to resurface. To give himself some hope for a change.

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, “It doesn't matter what we might believe about Dick’s inetions. The only things we can act off of are the facts he’s provided us, and so far, that leads us to believe Jason and Tim are right. We need to rid Dick of this magic and he’ll most likely age up, and revert, however, this magic works, but we cannot afford to let our hopes get in the way of reality. It will cost us Deathstroke’s imprisonment, the Light’s downfall, and Dick’s return in the end. This is what we are doing, and as Robin” he said pointedly to his son, “It is your obligation to analyze your place in this. If you do not believe you can act in accordance alongside Batman and others for this upcoming meeting, you will be benched”

Damian looked ready to snarl, “If you proceed forward and act out of turn and disobey orders, there will be consequences" Batman stated. Damian offered Bruce his most furious expression and Bruce returned it tenfold, “Damian, do not make the mistake of thinking for your brother and thinking you know better than the rest of us”

Damian’s expression was bordering on self-righteous but Bruce’s warning concerning Dick made him pause, as if the lashback from Dick’s wrath later on was enough to still his ego. He knew logically that Dick may remember this all and be furious at Damian for halting his return because he refused to bring Dick to meet with Wilson as a child. They all hated the idea and concept but also knew how essential it was. Arguing would get them nowhere but they could at least band together and unite off of the knowledge and sentiment shared that what they had to do was a pain for them all.

“Do we even know if Wilson knows what happened? How to reverse it?” Damian countered, “What if we’re just opening the door for that lowlife to come in and take Richard again-”

“We don't have to” Tim snapped, “We already know what Dick will do again. Slade wins either way. This way we at least get access to info about what happened and what kind of threats the Light had behind the scenes”

“This is pathetic” Damian spat horrendously, “We’re offering up Richard-the original Robin" he turned on Bruce, “Your first son! To some madman who convinced him he’s too dangerous for us?” Damian scoffed, “We have been raised and trained by Batman. Nothing is too much for us”

“He didn't convince Dickie-that asshole did all this fucked up backward thinking all on his own” Jason growled. He crossed his arms when Damian kept on like no one had interrupted. 

“We finally have Richard! He came home! This is our chance to get through to him and conv-”

“He didn't come home, idiot” Jason sneered, “The confused little pants-wetter ran back to B with half a mind”

“We will need to use this to our advantage and prove to Richard that-”

“Enough! Damian!” Tim exclaimed. His blue eyes were a tad too reflective of the lights above their heads.

Damian didn't miss a beat, “No!” he cried back just as loudly, “I can’t keep losing him! If it’s Batman's missions or petty fights about college placement or the Court of Owls or Wilson or-”

“Damian” Bruce was there in an instant, clutching his upper arms with a surety that he hoped was comforting and grounding. Damian’s wide eyes barely registered Bruce inches from his face, “I can’t keep losing him” he whispered, almost begging Bruce to drop everything, stomp upstairs, and inform Dick this was his new reality and that he would be staying with them forever. 

Bruce realized he was holding his own breath and forcefully released it, trying not to appear as shaky as he felt, “I know it's hard. I know” he said firmly, “Do you remember what I promised you boys? I told you that Dick would come home, no matter what. That still stands” he gripped Damian tighter, “I know it's hard now, but Dick is in a dark place, like you were when your mother first brought you to Gotham. A transition like this affects your mind, body, and soul. Dick thinks that by eliminating the Court of Owls that he’s keeping us safe from dangers related to his past. He thinks they’ve made him too dangerous for us-too risky”

“He’s hurting his soul”, Damian said adamantly, “That's what he would have said to me-to us. he convinced me not to run back to my mother and for Todd to stay in contact, why can't we return the same gesture to him?!”

Bruce smiled, “That” he shook Damian once to get his point across. He looked up at Jason and Tim, “That is the mentality we need to have. We need to get back Dick the same way he’d get us back-forcing him won't work. It’ll drive him away, but your brother loves you boys and this is his warped way of proving it to himself. He’s been through too much and isn't thinking clearly. Disabling the Light, and then Wilson, will help us prove to Dick that he can return home and doesn't have anything to worry about”

“Except his fucking name on the blacklist,” Jason said lowly.

Bruce glared at him, “Everything can be solved or fixed” he re-cemented. He needed his boys to work with him, not against him. It was difficult enough with the Bat growling in his ear every time Dick broke the law, or took a life. 

“Really?” Jason drawled in a plain tone, “Dick’s not gonna have to face any retributions or consequences for acting like a fucking terrorist? Hell, his least worry is gonna be guilt by association and that’s the most obvious thing he's done! The moment Dick’s back, he’s either gonna cause a rift in the League because you can't keep priorities straight or you’re gonna prove you’re a liar and lock Dickhead up in Arkham” Jason sounding far too similar to the shadowed bat inside Bruce’s heart, “He’d hate either option, so who's to say we can even keep him after all this shit blows over?”

“You just want him to yourself in Budhaven" Damian growled with crossed arms.

“You little-”

“Enough!” Bruce barked loudly. He rounded on Jason, desperate for his son and the Bat to stop agreeing with each other, “Lashing out in petty, unhelpful ways will do nothing for us or Dick” Bruce spat angrily, “I know you’re upset with me and Dick, Jason, but if your presence is only going to offer trials and tribulations, then you’re welcome to vent elsewhere while we work towards defeating your brother's multiple enemies”

Jason’s eyes widened before they narrowed, “Fuck you” he spat, “Always so easy to turn people away huh? Your golden boy would've told you to let people in, not push us away” He mocked in a sickly sweet tone.

Bruce crossed his arms, “Enough. Jason” Bruce was near his breaking point.

“So what will it be B? Are you a hypocrite? Or a-”

“Enough!” Bruce slammed his fist down at his side, disturbing the objects and glass mugs with a startling rattle. The table creaked and yelled like the wood had tried to snap but was held together with too much expensive lacquer. The boys stilled before realizing that Dick had to have heard their commotion. Bruce’s eyes flitted upward briefly before darting back down to his son with a hearty glare, a warning to stop while he was ahead and in good graces. Jason smirked darkly and Bruce knew half of his attention was being directed to Dick upstairs in the living room too. Tim opened his mouth but froze, deterred by Jason's sidelong stare of disinterest in any form of peacekeeping. With one last disdainful look at Bruce, Jason turned and walked away.

“Todd is nothing but chaos” Damian complained angrily, “One minute he's agreeing with us and refuses to admit it, and the next he's playing devil’s advocate in a lose-lose situation!”

Tim sighed, “Welcome to life, Damian” he ran a hand through his hair and pulled at it slightly, “Life isn't fair and neither are people”

_________________________________________________________________

 

“This is about the mission?” Dick asked.

Bruce nodded, “It is. We’ll be meeting an informant who either has information about this magical curse or knows how to reverse it”

“Hopefully both,” Damian said in an effort to be reassuring. 

Dick’s brow hadn't unfurrowed since Bruce broached the topic of ‘fixing’ him at breakfast, “Do we know him?” he backtracked, “I mean am I supposed to know him?”

Behind Bruce, Jason stood beside Tim and slightly behind Damian. He made an instantaneous sound low in his throat and earned a cautious glance from Dick. Bruce glowered at his now oldest son and quickly turned back to Dick, “You do in a sense” he confirmed, “He’s familiar with the Light”

“Where I just came from” 

Bruce nodded, “Where you just came from”

“And Ra’s is their leader?” DIck tried recounting the brief rundown of events he couldn't seem to remember.

Bruce nodded, “In a sense. There are thousands of members connected to the Light and their various operations, but they have a singular board of members that head most of these designations”

“The Brain was one of them but he’s been removed,” Tim said.

Dick nodded, “So he’s not their leader” he gave a weak chuckle, “Can’t say I ever thought I’d see Ra’s being on a team”

Jason tolled his eyes, “Don't let the titles kid you, Dickie. Ra’s only lets them think he’s working with them. He lets them use his stupid little offices for board meetings because he benefits more from their stupid missions and attacks than not”

Dick nodded and smirked at Jason, “I can see that” he agreed, “You said Queen Bee and Vandal Savage and Black Manta were in on it too?”

Damian scoffed, “Black Manta can barely be counted as a member but it has caused enough strife for Kaldur”

Dick cocked his head, “Why would Aqualad care about Black Manta? He’s Aquaman’s problem, right?” he looked back to Bruce for confirmation.

Jason snapped his head to Damian with a fruitful glare and the boy stiffened, feeling his mistake, “I just mean that Aqualad did not take kindly to learning his mentor’s enemy had been elevated in power”

Dick nodded, “And Luthor too, but Baldy is literally at some illegal thing every other week”

Jason and Tim made stuffed laughing sounds low in their throats and Dick smirked, “Really!” he insisted, “He’s at every gala B drags me to and he’s always a pain in Uncle Clark’s butt! And like 2 months ago we found out he’s actually a secret donor for Connor! Technically he's his dad but he hates that word”

He stopped and an embarrassed grin speared his cheeks, “You probably know that stuff already”

Tim smiled warmly, “That doesn't matter. We’re briefing for all of us, not just you. This is the time to talk stuff out and ask questions, Dick”

Dick looked at Jason, “I hope Timmy moves in soon because he's the kind of calming energy you need” 

Damian snorted and Tim’s eyes flew wide with smug gleefulness. Jason glared at Dick and crossed his arms, “I do not need a fucking calming presence”

Dick crossed his arms, “You do” he said sternly, “Dr. Leslie thinks you do and I know you’re getting fussy when you start cussing”

Jason dropped his arms and stood straighter, “Shove it. I can fucking cuss when I want. Besides, who the hell says fussy if they’re under 50?”

Dick smirked like he knew Jason was proving him right when Damian spoke, “Stop being so ornery Todd-it’s uneventful and unproductive”

Jason’s cheeks reddened and he clenched his fists, “I’m not fucking horny!” he snapped in outrage. Dick stopped and gaped before he threw his head back and began to cackle madly. Tim laughed and Bruce looked between Tim and Damian in frustration, “Jason-”

Tim rolled his eyes, “That's not what that means, Jason”

Still madly grinning, Dick leaned into Jason’s side and whispered, “I heard horny too”

“Dick” Bruce sighed. Dick looked up in protest, “I’m validating his feelings, Bruce”

“You're antagonizing him” he returned evenly. Dick waved a hand dismissively, “Perspective, mershmective” he clapped his hands, “So, we’re gonna meet with this informant” he said the word like it was a special fancy word, “And then we’re gonna hope he knows enough to tell us how to turn me back to normal?”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “Older” he emphasized, “But yes, that is the plan, “I want us to spend the day making sure we are all on the same touchpoints for triggers and keywords in case something happens. I’ll inform Alfred that he should prep your old uniform so you have something that fits for now, but we need to gameplan as best we can for something as vague as this is going to be”

Dick crossed his arms and popped out a hip, “That's why you have a robin, B. I’m yin and you’re yang. You’re anal and I know how to improv!”

“Improvise” Tim corrected with a smile. Dick grinned back and placed his hands on his hips, “That too” he said with a large oblivious grin.

Later that night found them all back down in the cave and in uniform. Bruce had to spend a handful of minutes reeling Dick’s hyperactive focus back under control after he saw what the Robin uniforms had evolved into. Jason’s smugness over Dick calling his read and back base the 'coolest chill thing ever' still hadn't faded. Damian had been disgruntled until Dick admitted that he probably should have copied something darker like him because everyone called him a traffic light. He’d even commented on how much he liked Tim’s uniform as it was a good medium between realistic and his first Robin designs with his parents’ colors.

Dick’s behavior, loud mouth, and quick apologetics were another reminder of how much Bruce struggled to raise an immigrant orphan in his early twenties. He had unlimited funds but only Alfred to serve for his portion of parental experience. The young boy's behavior also proved to verify Bruce's stories of how heavily medicated doctors suggested Dick to be on for his OCD-compulsive tendencies, and ADHD diagnosis. He acted before he could think and said anything that came to mind but he was even quicker to apologize and take things back if he went too far or said something too blunt. It was transparently cute and glaringly obvious how much older Dick truly was medicated, when compared to his natural behaviors as a kid.

“Master Dick, are you quite certain you want the cape attached?”

Dick nodded firmly and crossed his twig arms over his thin chest, “Duh, Alfy. That’s my uniform, everyone else kept the cape” he pointed to where Redrobin and Robin stood across the cave with Batman, “Batman has a cape so Robin needs a cape” he wagged his finger at Alfred like he was a reckless youth.

Alfred smiled shakily and dipped his head, “I merely dislike seeing how often you boys get caught in tight situations because of these” Alfred pulled the cape taunt on the back of his Robin’s uniform. Jason looked up from where he had his feet kicked up on the main table, “He’s right. I dropped the cape and got so much cooler. Goons stopped stepping on it too”

Dick looked at Jason and bit his lip before looking back to the costume in Alfred’s withered hands, “Jay does look super cool” he admitted quietly. Jason smirked and Alfred sent him a disapproving look, “Master Dick, I hope you will do well to remember that Master Jason is no longer carrying the title of Robin and is in his 20s”

Dick looked up to see a supportive look on Alfred’s face, “That’s true” he smiled, “Plus I bet he got rid of it just to spite B”

Jason protested behind them but Alfred gently patted his cheek in response, “I’ll finish a couple of things and have this back to you momentarily”

Bruce, who had been keeping half an ear open to their conversation turned, “Soon, please Alfred. We’re due to suit up and meet in the next 2 hours. I don't want anything left to chance”

Alfred watched Bruce with a colder look but nodded, “I’ll be back momentarily Master Bruce” before turning to depart. Jason whistled, “I love seeing Alfred pissy”

Dick watched the older man’s back, “Why’s he mad?’ he asked in a small voice, his worry evident. Jason froze and looked at DIck from where he was still perched back in his chair, “Uhhhhh, Bruce got caught stealing from the curse jar” he supplied quickly

Dick gasped, “Bruce! I thought that was Jason! Alfred made me pay it back like 3 months in a row last time” he whined.

Bruce's lips barely parted in surprise before they thinned and he rotated to stare down Jason. The second oldest boy was leaning back and flipping through an upside-down magazine with intensity. Damian furrowed his brow from where he was leaning over one of their many laptops, “A curse jar?”

Tim smiled, “It kind of died down after Bruce took me in because Jason was the only one keeping it alive but between Bruce at 20-something and Dick learning English, there was a lot of swear words and inappropriate language” Tim smirked, “Then throw in a kid from Gothm's ghetto and you can imagine how bad it was…Jason taught Dick a lot of…verbiage” he said, “We usually used it as pocket change when Alfred and Bruce wouldn't give us money to go out”

Damian smirked, “I knew Todd was the bad influence, younger or not, he was born vile”

Jason sent a scathing look at the younger boy before hiding his face behind his magazine again. Tim chuckled and looked back at Dick. The younger boy seemed suddenly very alone without the presence of Alfred at his side. He still stood across the cave and was turned towards where the older man had just departed from. Tim watched him, catching sight of the small urges to fidget with his fingers or the hem of his clothing. It was something he still did when he struggled to concentrate amidst too many compounding thoughts. Tim wondered if Dick still took any medication to tamp down his obsessive behaviors. Bruce had been adamant that Dick wasn't to be medicated for every ODC, ADHD, and behavioral diagnosis doctors gave his young charge, but as Dick grew older they both ended up consenting to one monthly dose to help him focus and quell the urge to be constantly moving. Bruce didn't like it but admitted that Dick still needed to be able to sit still in school long enough to finish a test, no matter the fact that he always aced them and placed a grade or 2 above his age range.

Tim knew Dick was struggling with everything he’d been thrown head-first into over the last 2 days. He wouldn't be surprised if Dick still didn't believe them and was either still vetting them or thinking he was about to wake up from the weirdest dream ever. He knew he would be too paranoid to believe this much had changed within 2 days, but Dick had always been a very trusting character and Tim had seen the softer stranger side of Bruce that seemed to only belong to Dick at this age. Jason seemed familiar with it, but still standoff-ish at the notion of Bruce putting effort into his behavior.

He watched his older brother as a young child and wondered if it was worth the effort to comfort him. He knew it was a statement that could only be theorized clinically in his head or else he’d face backlash and retribution from those hearing it, but Tim really did wonder if trying to comfort and console Dick about his current feelings and unease would be the worth the emotional turmoil the kid would have the face in order to discuss it with him, and that was if Dick was even honest with him. He wouldn't blame him if he lied to his face and told him what he thought he’d want to hear. To Dick, he was a stranger that everyone else seemed to know. And even then, his mind pushed to play devil’s advocate, wondering if it would cause any further turmoil and pain to Dick when he was fixed and older. Would Dick remember this? Would he silently curse Tim for pushing too much too quickly or would he resent them for not trying more when he was stuck in such a vulnerable state of mind and body?

He watched Dick further, feeling Bruce and Damian behind him turn back to their individual work and notes. Dick’s hair was the same deep reflective black and his eyes bore the familiar bright blue shade that seemed to shine beneath any type of light. His features even reflected his adult self in some ways. The way his fingers twitched at his side and the natural predatory way his gaze jumped around the room. If Dick didn't smile so much, his gaze would be far more unsettling, but his bright contrasting features complimented him in the end. His jaw and features stood out due to his thin frame and fast metabolism, but Tim could almost see the change that would happen over the years. From weight lifting, more exercise, drugs, and experiments, Dick’s features would stick out just as much, be just as defining, for more different reasons. Screw it, he thought. He set down his iPad and meandered over to Dick.

The smaller boy turned to greet him immediately, plastering on a familiar grin. Tim watched him until unease set in, then insecurity and confusion before the smile fell away completely, “What?’ he mumbled.

Tim quirked his lips, “You don't wanna talk to me?”

Dick shrugged and looked away, “You have that look all the therapists do”

Do, not did.

Tim blinked, not expecting that comparison, “Did-does Bruce send you to a lot of therapists?”

Dick shook his head, “It’s mandatory from the state or the government, or whatever. Because I’m a ward and not adopted, CPS still does yearly check-ups and they want to make sure Bruce isn't complacent with me” he put air quotes around the word complacent.

Tim tried to keep the mood light, but inside he was shocked to learn that child services had continued to pester Dick and Bruce for so long. Dick had been taken in by Bruce for at least 4 to 5 years at this point, “And Jason doesn't have to go to therapy?”

Dick’s expression twister bitterly, “They call it supportive life counseling” he sneered slightly, “But no, Jason’s situation is too normal for Gotham I guess. They checked on him until the adoption was official” Tim noted a slight uptick in the tone of his voice again, “But I guess an immigrant kid who witnessed a gang-related murder warrants their attention more than a kid with a deadbeat dad”

Tim halted, unsure of probing the waters surrounding Dick’s parents. Dick spoke often of his life before Bruce and it was always positive, but Tim had never experienced him in a stage where he was getting over the trauma of the grief their loss caused. He’d seen Dick break apart over Jason’s death, but losing a brother as a teen is world’s different from losing your parents in a foreign country as a child. Tim sighed and placed himself beside Dick, close enough to be intimate, but not close enough to be overbearing, “I’m sorry” he said, “For all this” he nodded across the cave.

Dick followed his attention, “Why?” he asked, confused, “You didn't do this to me. You guys are trying to help me and B”

Tim hated how easy it was to see how Dick still saw them as different. Even though he and Jason seemed the closest, it was clear that Dick saw them as other and alien to his own memories still, “I’m not going to try and understand how you’re feeling or what you’re thinking but I know that it's difficult” he chuckled, “If I were you, I would still have half a foot out the door. I wouldn't be able to trust anyone if it contradicted my memories too much” Tim looked down at Dick who felt his gaze and looked up earnestly, “But you’ve always been so nice…so trusting, so I don’t want to put words in your mouth”

Dick looked away, feeling barren and uncertain in the face of Tim’s bluntness, “It’s not easy” he agreed finally, “Every day I wake up and have to remind myself it’s not a dream. I’m just hoping that it’ll all make sense when I’m back to normal-how you guys keep telling me I should be”

A sudden crescendo of frustration and exasperation over how difficult handling emotions in a delicate manner had become for their entire household. He looked across the cave again and cursed Bruce for being so above the bar and capable in every manner of life and skill…except his emotional capacity, “I can only imagine how awful we must have made you feel” he admitted. He kept his gaze forward and his face neutral, “Being told by everyone you know, and don’t know, that you aren't the version of you that we want”

Dick’s breath hitched beside him and Tim was glad he had avoided eye contact when he said that, “That’s one way to put it” Dick said quietly.

Tim nodded and released a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry” he repeated, “It won’t help anything other than my own guilt, but I am. We all are in our own ways”

Dick looked up sharply at that and his brow broke angrily, “I know B lied; is lying” he said assertively, “B always tries to keep stuff away from me, but I know things aren't what you guys want me to think” he said, “Jason’s room looks different and I caught Alfred doing a huge load of laundry, so I know he doesn't live here, maybe doesn't even visit. And I trust Bruce…and you guys... but I don't know you!”

Dick’s voice took on a meek strangled tone as if he was arguing with himself out loud. Tim bit his lip as Dick fought to control his emotions, “I’m trying, I am. And I know you guys mean well, but I really hate being told I don’t know what’s going on when all of you guys weren't here 3 days ago!”

Across the cave, Bruce’s head snapped up and he set his sights on the pair. Tim shook his head once to tell Bruce that he shouldn't intervene but it didn't stop the older man from watching them like a hawk.

I shouldn't have started him down this path, Tim mentally hit himself over the back of the head. His intention was to help, not cause Dick to spiral, “I know it feels like we’re telling you half-truths, and the truths we are telling don't make sense in the slightest, but I hope you can find some way to believe me, even a little, when I tell you that you are our rock, Dick”

Dick’s red face and scrunched eyes glanced at Tim from his periphery, “You were always the best older brother, and still are. There’s stuff that happens and it’s hard on all of us, but I know, with a doubt” he stressed as much as he could, “That we would have fallen apart and broken without you; seriously. You help us feel accepted and at home in our own way and teach us each how to deal with our own baggage. Even now, when we’re all basically adults and struggling with the life Bruce has shown us, you are the one that keeps us together, and working towards something”

Dick looked up with a slightly parted expression, “What's that?" he asked naively.

On queue with Dick’s question, he felt sharp wet pricks stab the backs of his eyes. It was unfair to them to have this sweet, young version of their cold ruthless brother thrust back in their face. He looked away, “I’m not totally sure” he answered honestly, “But the fact that we are all working towards this-whatever it is-because of you, just proves to me that I’m right. You keep Jason and Bruce on speaking terms and you brought Damian out of his shell and you help me feel at home in my own skin, Dick. We’re a messed up family of mostly orphans but your efforts really did make us a family, and in our line of work that family is all we have to fight for”

Tim looked down, “We don't worry about taxes or date nights or car payments…because of Bruce we have to worry that each patrol or mission will be our last….and sometimes I despise him for it, but the fact that we have each other because of this totally abnormal lifestyle really does make it worth it”

They spotted Jason in the midst of a petty spat with Damian, bickering in mocking tones of low and high voices, “For the most part” he added in exasperation. 

Dick giggled as he watched them and Tim appreciated how much lighter his chest felt, how much clearer his body and mind felt, “Even though there are 4 of us, I really felt like the middle child” he admitted, “Totally forgotten into the background because I wasn't the trailblazer, or the problem child, or even the blood son” Dick looked at Tim curiously over that but didn't interrupt, “But you always made sure I felt included. Always made sure I had a voice during dinner or a say in our movie nights. You checked on me at the galas and always made sure I was getting enough sleep and-”

Dick interrupted softly, “I’m used to overcompensating for Bruce being, well Bruce, but I’m not used to doing that for 3 Bruces”

Tim gave him a look, “You think we act like Bruce?”

Dick gave him a stupid look as if to say Duh, “You're all basically 1/3rd of him it's really weird because you look like him too"

Tim's lips curved, "Funny, I always get asked if we're real brothers. The tabloids love speculating that we each have a different mom because what are the odds of B adopting 4 kids that look alike"

Dick seemed to take that in more heavily, "I guess you all do look like each other"

Tim gave him a small knowing smile, “You look like our brother just as much” he replied. Dick flushed instinctually and seemed to clench his jaw to keep a grin at bay,“ I kind of love it when people mistake me and Jay for real brothers at school” he said it like was a taboo admission, “I hope this doesn't hurt your feelings, but I trust B, and if he trusts you guys then I think it’ll be fine” he offered a weak smile, “At least we’ll know how to turn me back to normal by tonight, or the next best place to look”

Tim smiled, “As much as I get mad at Bruce, I know he’d be touched that he’s the reason you can trust us”

Dick smiled, “Bruce would never hurt me. He messes up a lot and says things he shouldn't. Alfred actually told me most of the time he doesn't say what he should, but either way, Bruce would never hurt me, he loves me”

Chapter 30

Notes:

Hey there! Here's a new ch. let me know what you think

 

He’s close” Damian reported.

Batman and all of his robins had suited up, confirming their backup plans and how to handle the situation if things went awry. Batman had them prepped and armed facing the garage opening where their informant would be entering. He’d ordered Redrobin and Robin to stay by Dick’s side if things went south. After some disagreement over who to call Robin, after Dick and Damian began answering to the same title again and again, Bruce had decided that Damian would respond to Nightwing for the night. Damian’s expression had been pinched and tight, but he nodded after a long look from Bruce.

“Is Nightwing another name?” Dick asked in excitement, “Everyone’s picked another name after they were Robin and Nightwing sounds badass” he grinned.

Damian nodded, “It is acceptable for tonight. It is not my vigilante name but it is the name of an old Kryptonian war hero”

“Kryptonian? Oooooo, I so gotta ask Uncle Clark about this guy later”

“Focus” Batman reminded them.

“Robin” Batman reminded, “The informant is skilled in verbal and physical assault. Do not let this affect you. Disregard what he says and listen to orders. He may be bringing up to 3 others from a private team, but I do not expect force from him. His messages were neutral” Batman assured the younger boy, “If things get out of control I want you to prioritize getting yourself away and to safety. You are not to prioritize anyone else here, am I understood?”

Robin looked like he wanted to argue but felt the eyes of the other plastered to his skin, “Yes” he grumbled, “But, B, we’ve never done a meet-up on our turf. If I run, I can’t run upstairs that’ll endanger Alfy”

Bruce nodded, “Make your way to the grounds behind the manor. I’ve installed more security measures throughout the forest so you won’t get lost if you make your way deep into there. Alfred had his own backup measures and can handle himself. We are all much bigger and stronger than you at the moment. No matter your capability in the field, this opponent is not one I’ll permit you to battle at the moment”

Batman’s insistence that Dick couldn't handle their informant if their meeting evolved into a battle seemed to pacify his frustration and curiosity into a simmering fear. He nodded and Batman let up, appeased for the moment. 

“Outside” Damian reported as he diligently tracked any and all moving objects outside the Batcave. Batman took a low heaving breath of frustration and tried to gather all the patience he could physically and mentally retain at once. He nodded to Tim and Damian, giving them permission to open the garage doors. The large door creaked before it smoothly began to slide up and reveal 3 bright high beams, accompanied by the sound of low rumbling motorcycle engines. The moment the door was tall enough to receive the respective riders, the bikes pulled forward and stopped. For a few minutes, the Bats stood blatantly glaring into the overbearing lights; standing off against the ominous rumble.

Batman stepped forward from where they all stood shoulder to shoulder and let his shoulders drop, allowing his cape more coverage of his large broad shoulders. That seemed to instigate something with their guests and the lights clicked off, fading to dark until only the cave lights and the moonlight behind the garage door lit their view. The middle individual was a large, tall, and broad man; his only bodily curves being that from protruding muscles and armor layering his form. Beside him stood 2, much shorter people; another man and a woman.

“I’ll admit, Wayne. I wasn’t confident in whether your sense of warped loyalty would win out”

There was a gasp from someone much higher pitched, the woman? Her hair was cut incredibly short and seemed to frame her head, “Sir? Is that-”

“Shut it, perv” Jason snapped, cutting off the 2nd stranger.

Dick spun around and almost glanced at Jason in surprise. He glanced back to Bruce to find the Dark Knight hadn't budged an inch, almost like he was comfortable with Jason’s potty language. He managed to maintain his composure but hoped it wasn't as obvious as it felt. He glanced back at the 3 newcomers and Dick felt his stomach flip upside down and his fingers fall numb. Before them stood Deathstroke the Terminator. He was just as big as Dick remembered him being and was covered in dark copper armor and a black undersuit. His mask was slitted and offered only one cold steel grey eye, but he, just like Bruce, and now Jason, was one of the few people that had Dick actually craning his head up to look in the eye.

Beside him stood a plain-looking man with stubble and a stern, complacent face. His hands were fisted at his side, but Dick could spot the bumps along his thigh and shoulder to confirm he was armed. On Deathtroke’s other side was a dark-skinned woman who reminded him of Talia Al Ghul. Her stature was strong and defined but she wasn’t very tall, appearing even shorter beside Deathstroke. Her dark hair was cut short and was melded to her nape with wavy short bangs beside her eyes. She had large expressive eyes, but Dick found himself confused over the way she was openly staring at him. Her jaw and lips were closed and firm, like she was trying not to gap, but her eyes were locked on him in a way Tim and Damian’s had been when Dick first returned home; like they knew him but he didn't know them.

 He took a step back without realizing it and looked at Batman, “B” he hissed, aware of the eyes on him. Batman didn't turn but Dick knew he was always listening, always had an eye and an ear on his Robin, “Batman, what’s going on. This is Deathstroke” he glanced back in a panicked fashion to find the enormously hulking man standing straight and relaxed, “You know he was part of my mission-”

“Mission?” Deathstroke’s velvety deep voice purred in curiosity, “What excuses has Wayne fed you, little bird?”

Dick’s eyes were so wide he feared his domino mask would separate from the glue plastered against his upper cheeks and brows, “Shut it!"

The tree of a man rumbled a low laugh and crossed his armored arms, “It’s quite alright little bird, you can drop the pretenses. You’ll soon remember that there are but none between us anyway”

Dick didn't know how to respond, he couldn't even find the conscious effort to glare. He was confused beyond belief how this had happened. Slade knew Bruce was Bruce Wayne and now he was talking to Dick in a fashion too familiar and intimate to be anything but sickening. He turned on Batman, “B. I swear I didn't-wouldn't say anything. I don't know how h-”

“It’s alright, Dick”

The young dark-haired boy halted before he made hesitant eye contact with Bruce; or tried to. The Dark Knight didn't turn to look back at Dick. Further in front of them, Deathstroke’s shoulders jumped slightly as he crossed his arms and Dick just knew the man was smirking, finding malicious amusement in Dick’s befuddlement and fear. He glared viciously at the man but his desperate need for reassurance had him dragging his attention back to his father's shoulders.

“Batman?”

He was once again denied eye contact as the man faced away from him. Dick glanced away to look at Jason, desperate for answers. He was seconds away from using their real names, disregarding their rules…Deathstroke knew who Bruce was anyway. His younger, bigger brother was too busy glaring down the mercenary to notice Dick was spiraling…hard.

“Wh-What-”

Deathstroke cut him off, “Don't worry, kid. It’ll all make sense once you’re back to normal”

Dick’s eyes bulged, “You’re the informant?” he whispered in dread. Deathstroke didn't answer but his eye conveyed how pleased he was. Dick shook his head and took a step back, “No, no that’s not right. I-I escaped you when I ditched the mission. B asked you to come and help me remember everything?”

The mercenary’s eye widened briefly before he let his head fall back. A loud deep chuckle prickled Dick’s skin and ears, “Oh, Wayne. If I had more time, I would love to hear what excuses you’ve fed the kid”

The only response Bruce offered was to clench his fists. Dick's stomach dropped even lower than before, bringing a heavy nauseous feeling to the surface and offering him a disorienting flush, This isn’t my Bruce, he realized. His Bruce would never offer him up to Deathstroke, never lie to him about this. He had been right that first night he accused Bruce of being an imposter-with all his wrinkles and new suit additions. Dick took a step back and that earned everyone’s attention. Damian, who had been standing directly at his side, reached for his shoulder and Dick jerked away, stumbling backward. He shook his head, frantic for every blink to reveal a sudden new reality where things made sense again.

Batman turned to face them, “Robin, stop” he commanded. Deathstroke chuckled again, “You really wasted no time in trying to make him yours again,” he said slyly.

Dick’s attention jumped to the killer, “What?” he asked in a panic. His voice was in his throat and his heart was in his ears and his veins were pumping frigid liquid nitrogen throughout his limbs.

“Richard, remain calm-”

Dick jerked away from another attempt to reach him, “You’re not my Batman” he said breathlessly. Batman and Jason were now facing him fully, “Shit,” Jason said. Tim’s expression mirrored Jason's tone, “I was right. You’re not my Batman”

Batman’s eyes widened, “Robin-”

“No! You-I was right! You aren't my Bruce” His gaze jumped sporadically from Batman to his supposed brothers and the mercenary standing casually in the background. The mercenary had yet to take his hungry gaze off him, “Bruce would never work with a criminal” he swallowed, “Bruce would never lie to me or-”

He was wasting time. He was in enemy territory and cornered and he needed to get away….now.

“Dick-”

Dick turned on his heel and booked it. Gasps and yells echoed behind him but Dick was already flying. He sprinted towards the staircase before throwing himself onto the 6th step and then bounding up the rest at a rate that had his thighs screeching. He reached the top of the stairs and leaped over the railing and into the elevator, offering a partially panicked glance back at the imposters. Tim and Damian were just reaching the bottom of the stairs while Jason and Bruce were standing squared off against Deathstroke. Jason stood closest, aiming a handgun at the larger man’s head nearly point blank, A gun? Who the hell gave Jason a gun?! Dick felt his knees quake… he really was amongst enemies.

By the time, Tim and Damian were almost up the stairs to him, the elevator was already in motion and above their heads. Dick caught the tail end of Tim notifying Alfred to come to the grandfather clock and help stall him, but Dick was already set in motion. Trained to be the capable and dependable Robin that Batman needed, he pushed down all other thoughts to escape. Because if he could escape then he could get out and figure out where he was and who had him for the last few days. Then he could find the real Batman and set everything right.

The sleek metal doors silently slid open to reveal the person he’d been dreading. Alfred was always proficient and capable, more than them once Dick was unable to rationalize how anyone over 50 could keep up with Bruce and his wayward wards. He didn't let himself think, didn't let himself get lost in the soft placations the accented older man always offered to him after he and Bruce had gone at each other in arguments that rivaled their skills. Bruce was the first nice person he’d been introduced to after his parent’s murder but Alfred was the reason Dick didn't run away the moment Bruce got him out of Gotham’s children’s correctional facility. 

The moment he saw Alfred waiting for him, he moved.

“Master Dick! Please I have little clue as to what has happened-”

Dick shoved off from the closed grandfather clock behind him and slid under the older man’s feet until he could feel the rug burn through his non-padded Robin’s vest. Alfred squawked in surprise and stumbled, trying not to step on Dick as he shot through his narrowly spaced feet. The moment his head was clear, Dick ran the tips of his fingers into the rug, covering the center of the hardwood floor, and pulled himself forward in a stranglehold. He shoved himself to his feet and proceeded onward with the mantra, Don’t look back, ringing through his head.

He found the sunroom with little effort and barrelled through to his right. He jumped over the large plush reading chair and leaned into the glass double doors that would open to the large forest that made up the back of Wayne manor. He paused for a brief moment listening for anything or anyone at his heels. His head was turned to the right and slightly tilted but he wasn't really looking at anything as all his senses had been diverted to straining his ears as much as possible. He forced his heaving chest to slow as if that would allow him to her any better. The air he needed soon protested against the slowed breathing motions and Dick found himself frantically gulping in air. He gripped the double door handles harder, and was just about to push them down and away, when he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye. The sunroom, which had been Dick’s yoga and stretching room since day 1 at the manor, now looked to be some sort of private library as well. Photos lined the wall of the study at different heights and sizes. The frames all looked to be as expensive as the next, but one picture, just above the large reclining chair in the corner of the room caught his attention. Dick’s grip wavered slightly before he found himself taking a step toward the picture and away from the door. Then another, and another until he was staring down the picture with so much dread and alarm, Dick feared he’d throw up on the spot.

The picture was slightly crooked, but it had to be to fit so many people into what looked like a selfie. There was Bruce and Alfred on the left, both offering slight smiles. Just beside them were Jason and Tim who looked both pissed that their shoulders were touching, and just beside them was Damian, but he looked younger-closer to 14 or 15 in the photo. In his arms was a limp black cat draped over his shoulder, his fluffy butt supported by Damian’s forearm. And at the center, just below everyone’s head, but closer to the camera, was a tanned smiling bright-eyed man. His pointer finger blurred the top right of the photo but his grin was so wide and contagious he seemed to be on the verge of making himself laugh. Dimples protruded and Dick found himself taking a step back. Everyone in the picture seemed to have wind-ruffled hair like they were outside or had been caught in the middle of other obligations.

 

There’s no way

 

That’s not me

 

That can’t be me

 

How intricate was this trap if they’d planted pictures? How-

 

Dick took a shaky step back and swallowed hard. He heard a quick thud to his right and jerked as he realized he’d wasted time. A loud voice, followed by another, then a cacophony of yelling and movement. He cursed himself and forced his feet to move, forcing his body to accept that fear-induced adrenaline rush once again. He abandoned the picture and ran for the double doors, throwing them open and sprinting out into the night. He knew fake Bruce had ordered him to the forest in case things went south but Dick also knew this was the best place to lose his pursuers. He’d had more than enough practice sneaking out through the woods to meet up with Barbra and gallivant around without Bruce breathing down his neck.

He felt the soft grass and muddy terrain coating his boots and shins as he dashed away from the manor. His thighs were hot and scalding from his effort and his lungs burned from the cold night air. He heard the distant sounds of clearer voices at his back and panicked, feeling sweat trickle down his back and neck on command. He mentally begged his body to move faster, quicker, something to ensure he could escape those at his back. He pushed his arms to pump faster, his lungs to take in larger gulps of air, but he wasn't able to outrun them as well as he’d hoped. The voices were gaining and panic was setting in, making Dick feel like his usual grace had been translated into clumsiness. 

Dick looked around, desperate for ideas or backup plans to develop, but he couldn't see anything but trees.

Trees.

He glanced up and realized that he had his answer. Fake Bruce had been right, everyone after him, even Damian and Tim were stronger and bigger than him. They weren't more agile though. Dick forced himself to continue sprinting until he spotted a tree that had a foothold low enough to leverage up on and a canopy of branches tall enough and thick enough to hide in.

He scrambled for the tree and jammed his foot into the cracked bark until he could access the most obvious foothold. He scrambled up from there. He clawed and reached for the top of the tree where limbs and branches started to deviate from the trunk itself. He kept clawing upward until he could see the briefest flashes of the night sky. He finally slowed and allowed himself to stall, catching his breath. His limbs shook as he allowed himself to relax, making him realize how tightly he had been clutching the bark and branches. He stilled and found a place to pause and find a foothold and somewhere stable to perch on. Against the natural sounds of the night like wind and occasional far-off cars, Dick found himself feeling rather alone as the silence set in. It was unnerving but he comforted himself with the reminder that silence meant no enemies for the time being.

He was desperately scared and even more confused than worried but he knew that he couldn't afford to allow himself time to reflect. If he did, the anxiety and self-doubt would seep in and permeate too quickly for him to be efficient. He had to save his emotions for when he found his Batman and knew he was genuinely safe and secure, Jason must be so worried.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but his internal clock told him it had been about 20 minutes when a pair of casual footsteps made their approach. It was difficult to tell anything besides their speed as the forest floor and grass didn't offer him many clues to discern the weight of the person. It could be his fake brothers, Deathstroke, or fake Batman. Either way, Dick was resolute and ready to wait them out. They’d have to climb up to him either way which would give him time to-

Something whizzed past Dick’s field of sight and skyrocketed his pulse from 1 to 100 within 2 seconds. He almost yelped but his sharp intake of breath cut him off and he found himself making a silent choking sound in surprise. He wheeled backward and then felt another round of panic take over as the feeling of falling overcame him from behind. He tipped head over heels and threw his arms out, feeling the rough bark of a branch on his second rotation. He gripped instinctively and the moment he felt himself righting, he forced his grip to relax so he didn't throw out his shoulders or break his arm. The movement forced his palm to wring against the bark and he gritted his teeth against the sharp sting that followed immediately. He swung one more time before stopping and Dick gasped as he looked around, desperate to find his attacker.

“Marvelous” a deep voice purred. Dick snapped his head down and narrowed his eyes on Deathstroke. The sizeable mercenary was leaning casually against the base of a close-by tree and looking up at Dick. In his right hand, Dick spotted a small palm-sized pistol and he blanched, “You shot at me?!”

Slade inclined his head, “Kid, you didn't really expect me to climb up to you, did you?”

The casualness in the killer’s tone implied a familiarity that had Dick’s hackles rising, “I-You could have hit me!”

Slade chuckled, “I’m a professional marksman, little bird. I would have only hit you if I intended so”

Dick glowered, not appeased. Slade watched him for a long time before he finally pushed away and sauntered over to stand directly beneath Dick, “Are you going to come down, or do  need to shoot that branch to offer a greater incentive?”

Dick glanced up at the branch he was dangling from before glaring down at Deathstroke viciously, “I’m not coming down” he spat, “How dumb do you think I am, Deathstroke?”

Slade’s eye glimmered in amusement, “Haven't heard that title from you in a while, little bird”

“Stop calling me that!”

Slade slid his gun into the small holster at his thigh, “Does it bother you?”

“You know it does asshole! I know you’re stalling for your friends. I don’t know what makes you think I’ll just give up”

Slade turned his head to look back over his shoulder briefly, “You think Wayne and his pests are my friends?”

Dick scowled and felt his grip start to burn. He heaved himself up until he could throw the branch under his underarms and give his forearms some respite, “I don't care what they are. I know they aren’t my Batman and Robin though. Jay wasn't 6 feet tall or ready to go out as Robin last week and Bruce would never adopt anyone else without asking me. Besides, Batman would never allow anyone to learn his identity-he’s too good”

“Wayne asked for your permission to take in Todd, did he?”

Dick felt his irritation spike into something more fiery. He was done allowing this enemy to waste his time. It was only getting darker and colder and Dick needed to escape, “Fuck you!” he pulled himself up and back into the tree. He moved quickly and lightly, hoping that the killer tracking him wouldn't be able to shoot him down or climb up too quickly. He spotted the nearest tree and dropped down a few benches until he could see an easier transition line. Without looking back, Dick shimmied onto the branch further and further out. He stopped when he felt the branch bow and wobble too precariously under his weight. He swung his feet back and forth, with his toes pointed and his back arched, just like his dad taught him.

On the second swing, Dick released his grip and shot forward. He thought he was close enough to feel the bark beneath his thin gloves when a jerking motion wrenched him down by his cape. Dick yelped as the wind rushed past his ears and the world tilted far faster than he was prepared for. His back hit the ground hard and Dick felt all his air escape him at once. He gagged and gasped before he was thrust up and forward with a force he couldn't see or feel. His lungs began to work as the world righted itself and Dick heaved in painfully cold lungfuls of air, “Damn, I forgot how delicate you were, kid. Always seemed to be able to take a punch”

Steel-tipped boots made their presence known in front of his dipped head. On all fours, Dick looked up between his panting and tried to glare at the mercenary. Even now, the gargantuan man looked at ease, standing casually above Dick as he felt like his back and lungs were about to explode. Slade cocked his head, “I guess this answers my question as to why your Nightwing suit didn't have a cape”

Slade’s words did nothing but confuse him and his increasingly pounding head, “That’s Damian” he groaned miserably. 

Slade chuckled and crouched down to nearly eye level with Dick, “No, kid. That’s you. Wayne is just desperate to have you reembrace your 12-year-old self again”

Dick looked up and tried blinking past his headache, “What do you want?” he forced out.

Slade cocked his head, “Nothing much. Just here to get you back to normal, kid”

Dick glared, “I am normal” he snapped, “And that’s not Bruce, so I know you’re all lying. I knew being turned back into a kid with no memories was a wildly convenient story. None of it made sense”

Slade gave him a deadpan look, “It didn't make sense because you don't have any memories” he replied tonelessly, “But that’s beside the point. We gotta reverse Queen Bee’s pet’s magic before it's too late. S,o unfortunately, I’m not in a position to offer very much leniency”

Dick sat back and tried putting some distance between them, “What do you want?” he demanded, unconvinced, “I won’t cooperate with whatever mind-reading you think you can trick me into”

Slade cocked his head but Dick saw the way his eye crinkled, like the man was smiling despite Dick’s resistance, “While I would normally love nothing more than to rehash how defiant and troublesome you were as Robin, we are on a timeline, kid”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dick wrenched his attention from Slade to just over his shoulder where Batman, Redrobin, and Robin now stood. Slade rolled his eye but stayed crouched before Dick. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, “About time, Wayne”

Just behind them, Redhood stepped into the clearing with a disgruntled attitude. His helmet had been taken off and his white and black hair was tussled and messy. His jacket had also been removed and was wrapped around his left arm and neck in a loose sling, “You fucker!” he snapped.

Slade gave him a slow once over, “You look fine to me”

“You snapped my arm!” he snapped.

Tim pulled out a small handgun with a strange bright blue-tipped top and cartridge. The gun looked to be entirely plastic and almost combined with a syringe. He pointed it at Deathstroke, “Back away from Dick”

Slade stared down Tim’s weapon with cool disinterest, “Am I supposed to be concerned? Despite my genes being used for the updated evolution project, that wasn't designed to incapacitate me”

Jason snarled and whipped out his own gun, pointing it at Deathstroke, “That’s just to slow you down. This is to fucking incapacitate you” he sneered in a mocking tone.

Dick gasped violently and scrambled back another few feet. Jason and the others looked at him stunned before Jason jerkily lowered his handgun, “Dick-”

“Stop calling me that!” Dick cried out. He was overwhelmed and cornered once again, “Jason hates guns! His stupid dad had one and Bruce would never let us learn to shoot!”

The others were speechless, shocked as Dick spat their morals and boundaries back in their faces with a fervor he didn't even understand the meaning of. Despite Bruce’s Batman cowl holding firm to his face and head, his lower face expressed all the shock and grief necessary, “Dick, listen to me-”

Despite the larger distance and a mercenary standing between father and son, Dick still reared his head back like further distance was a necessity. Tim held up his hands and took a few steps forward, “Dick, you’re right” he said, “Bruce would have never let us do or behave the way you’re seeing now, but I cannot stress enough that this is some of that proof that I mentioned earlier-remember? That stuff that’s hard to see and hear from us but proves that you’re what kept us together this whole time. We’re fighting for you, no matter how torn up and rag-tag of a family we become- no matter how different we are as adults. You kept us family”

“You aren't my family” Dick spat. Batman winced, “My family would never call Deathstroke for help and lie to me about it”

Slade crossed his arms, “This is getting nowhere”

“Why are you so set on speeding this up, huh?” Damian demanded.

Bruce narrowed his attention on Slade, “What do you have planned for him so soon that he needs to be an adult again?”

Slade narrowed his eyes and faced the bat silently. Batman growled, “Wilson! You will tell me what you meant by "being on a time crunch" or I will relax my restraints on my sons”

Redhood looked shocked and disgusted by that at the same time, his gun arm shooting back up at a steady level on the mercenary. Slade watched them levelly for a long time, proving that he would answer on his own time and basis. Finally, he offered a glance back at Dick on the ground, “Did you leave any of my men alive?” he drawled.

Batman growled, “How many times do you have to be proven wrong to understand that we aren't monsters like you?”

Jason snorted, “Barely. But no one's walkin’ away on their own”

Slade frowned, “Richard needs to come with me so I can ensure this state of his is reversed”. The surrounding group of glares and unimpressed looks almost brought out a sigh. He brought his inner wrist up and rotated it to where his mouth lay behind his intimidating mask, “Have Klarion deliver himself to my exact location. Now”

He didn't wait for a response before dropping his wrist disdainfully.

“So Klarion did this to Dick?” Tim inquired harder, “Queen Bee’s attacking him again?! We’ve been careful! We haven't messed up any operations and haven't even gone to any that are hers!”

Slade glowered at the tall lithe boy before answering with an edge, “As you very well know, my apprentice has a knack for garnering genuine attention in most places he frequents…This was a privately motivated incident that was not handled well enough to avoid that magical pest acting out on his own whims”

“Klarion has beef with Dickie?” Jason chuckled darkly, “Wonder what happened”

Slade clenched his fists, “You may wonder and ask and pester all you like but unless Richard is reverted, and his status fixed, we will have no one to squabble over at all”

Batman’s jaw ticked menacingly, “What are you implying Wilson?”

Damian was stuck glancing from Dick to Deathstroke, “Will the curse kill him?!”

Dick squeaked in further panic behind them. Slade tipped his head like it was just a casual conversation and not a preliminary death sentence, “The de-aging will continue until the age cannot. As you can see, the spell is making rather large bounds in his age already”

They all looked at Dick who lay propped up on his butt and palms, realizing that if he’d gone from his early twenties to his early teens in just one progression then the next stage of the spell very well may kill him. Dick’s large blue eyes were wide and glassy, panic over the situation and his inability to actively escape was smeared across his features. His fingers were clenched into the dirt behind him and his Robin costume was looking more and more out of place on someone so fear-stricken. Bruce regarded the killer for a long moment before his lips thinned.

Batman stepped forward, allowing Jason to continue holding Deathstroke at gunpoint. He reached up and pulled the cowl off his head, revealing a pair of broken blue eyes and mussed dark hair, “Dick” he whispered.

Dick’s eyes searched his for something, but the boy didn't find what he needed and stayed planted on the ground. Deathstroke shifted when Bruce passed him and made to kneel before Dick but Jason silently clicked the safety off and stared unblinkingly at the mercenary. His bright green gaze was almost luminescent through his domino mask. 

“Dick, Robin” Bruce softly fell to one knee before Dick, “You know I’d never hurt you because it’s true” he stressed, “I know what we’ve been telling you was confusing enough as it is without Deathstroke's presence making it worse, but Tim is right. We are doing this for you and because of you. Deathstroke was present at your last mission because a large portion and purpose of your goal was to infiltrate and defeat the Light. They’re planning to mass produce and weaponize a biotechnological chip that will be disastrous for anyone subjected to it. Deathstroke has enough sense to acknowledge that cooperating with us means that he can maintain his…..lifestyle of choice” Bruce put delicately, disdainfully, “But if we do not follow through with this then this magic will continue to wreak havoc on you until it’s too late”

Bruce firmed up his features and thinned his lips to protest against the wetness building behind his eyes, “I can't let that happen Dick- I won't lose you…any of you”

“Deathstroke wouldn't help out of the kindness of his heart” Dick muttered spitefully.

Bruce fought back the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. Jason scoffed in the back, “I miss him like this”

“You’re right” he dipped his head, “We will be on the hook for Deathstroke’s timely and efficient help but he is getting more than you know out of this partnership as well, however temporary”

Dick glanced behind Bruce’s shoulder before looking back at his dad, “What did you promise him?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and swallowed heavily, “Are you going to tell the kid what I was promised, Wayne?” Slade purred.

Another ominous click from Jason’s gun.

Bruce resisted the urge to turn around, but instead reached out to Dick, grasping his right gloved hand, “Nothing” he swore, “Deathstroke was promised nothing, but he is a vengeful greedy monster of a man and he takes what he wants; whether it's right or not. But you Dick are my priority. I don't care about what else he wants or what he may leave benefiting after this, you’re my priority and everything comes after. Everything can be fixed later”

A strange sort of wind picked up around them and Bruce was just about to write it off when he heard his sons shuffle and move too much to be natural or at ease. He saw Dick’s eyes trying to track something very fluid and quick behind his shoulder, encouraging Bruce to turn fully. Still on his knees, he bent around to see a small gust of wind had thickened like it was made up of leaves and dirt instead of pure air. Before them, a humanoid shape took place and darkened, surrounded by dirt and leaves. By his third blink, Batman saw Klarion standing before them, dapper and dressed head to toe in black and white. 

Dick’s eyes were wide and frozen and he looked like he was doing his damnedest not to gasp. Bruce gripped his son firmly, doing his hardest not to squeeze too tightly, “Dick- I know this is a lot. I know, but please just trust me a little longer and it will all make sense again soon”

Dick trembled as he stared back at Bruce, but it was unclear if he was cold against the night air or if he was scared out of his wits. Bruce knew Dick had experienced pure terror too young in life. He’d seen his parents fall to their deaths, faced down their killer, experienced torture at the hands of the Joker and Two-Face, and despite it all, fear still held an odd place on Dick’s face; like it never truly fit or belonged there.

After a silent moment, Dick hesitantly reached out for Bruce’s gloved hand, “Bruce…”

Bruce smiled and allowed Dick to control their contact.

“Bruce!”

He looked down at Tim's call just in time to see Dick pull the pin on a small oval-sized black object. Small yellow wings and 2 fangs were depicted on the front of the object, half the size of his palm. Bruce had forgotten about the prototype flash bangs and smoke bombs that Dick was allowed to house in his Robin’s belt. The small yellow bat fangs offered 2 blinks before a sharp loud hiss filled everyone’s ears, half a second later, dark grey smoke erupted between Bruce and Dick, sending everyone into a flurry. Bruce panicked the moment he felt Dick’s hands slip through his. He reached out again and again, realizing he was now on his knees and blindly swatting through the air.

“Klarion!” A booming voice demanded behind Bruce, before a similar gust of wind blew past Bruce’s head, throwing his hair forward and forcing him to squint. He coughed and blinked tears away from his eyes as the smoke bomb’s residue effects were forced past his face in a flurry of whipped winds. Within a few seconds, the grey smoke had dissipated before dispelling altogether, leaving the cold still night air as it was. The only inkling of proof they had that Dick had set off a smoke bomb was the strange burnt smell left tinging the air. Only a few feet away, Dick sat pressed against the large base of the tree he’d frantically climbed to escape. His back was pressed against the enormous base and his eyes were wide as he struggled to strategize against multiple enemies that kept appearing with new and evolving abilities. 

 Slade stepped away from Jason’s cocked and loaded gun like he wasn't concerned in the slightest, “About time. Get on with it, if the boy dies, so do you”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“No! No! Stop!”

Dick’s voice carried in a way that would have them worried if they were on private property and surrounded by acres of private forestry and land. Dick had proved to be too good at weaseling out of nearly everything they tried to pin him down with so they ultimately were forced to tie him to the largest tree base they could find. Dick’s skin was raised with goosebumps from the cold wind and searing hot adrenaline that his fear was spiking into his system. He was splayed against the tree trunk without gloves, his top vest, cape, or mask, but that didn't keep him from twisting and writhing as much as possible.

“Dick-” Tim looked pained as he tried to calm and corral the frantic kid without touching him.

“Save it replacement” Jason drawled, “We just need to get through this and Dick will stop giving himself a heart attack”

“How can you trust this warmonger so easily?” Damian seethed as he jerked his narrowed gaze to Slade.

Jason went to cross his arms before he winced and remembered one arm as out of service, “The perv wants Dick alive and well as much as we do. Queen Bee’s lapdog will do his fucked up ritual here and we’ll know that nothing shady is going on. Stop making problems to worry about before they’re actual problems”

“It’s called being proactive” Tim snapped, as if Jason had criticized him and not Damian. 

“I’ll listen-I won’t run. Just don't do whatever this is” Dick pleaded in as strong a voice as he could as his wide eyes watched Klarion mutter and prepare, strutting around his bound form with a strange ethereal absurdity.

“It will be alright, Richard” Damian said sternly, but in a soft tone.

Dick’s lip lifted before he spat out at Damian. The youngest brother’s eyes widened incredulously and he resisted the urge to outright gap. Jason laughed and slapped Damian on the back, “I love that you get to see what a little spitfire Dick used to be"

Damian glowered at Jason as he took a step back.

“Deathstroke” Batman demanded from where he was keeping his distance from Dick, “Are you ready or not”

Slade turned his head from where he had been silently watching Dick struggle. His bulky form was leaning against the second nearest tree and acting as an accidental shield every time Klarion felt too targeted by the Bat’s seething glares of doom. Slade casually titled his masked face down to Klarion who had stopped pacing and was looking at Dick with a strange intensity again. Klarion felt Slade’s attention and looked up curiously.

“Well?”

“Well?” Klarion repeated in a confused manner. His eyes flew wide, “Timmy fell down a well?! Again?!”

Slade’s fist clenched slightly before Klarion backed up with a nervous giggle, “I’m ready! I’ve been ready for 5 minutes and 34 seconds, I just liked watching Richard Grayson when he is more likely to be nice to me”

Dick’s brothers were watching Klarion with varying looks of disgust and distrust, but Bruce’s attention never left his oldest. Dick’s dark hair was sweat-slicked and clung to his nape and forehead as he struggled against his bindings. Slade leaned down to Klarion’s level, “You will finish your task efficiently and return to your master or I will wrap a hand around your throat and ensure you never act out of place again”

Klarion nodded meekly before sleeking over to stand before Dick. Dick’s tight expression whipped between the deranged well-dressed witch and his fake family, “I-I’ll listen. I won’t run” he tried to negotiate. 

“Never was one to truly beg” Slade muttered pridefully.

“I swear! I-I’ll I’m sorry! I’m just confused!” Klarion reached out for Dick’s face and Dick leaned as far back as he could, “Bruce!” Dick’s cracked shou was cut short as Klarion made contact with Dick’s scrunched, turned away face. Silence descended over their group as Klarion held Dick’s face with both hands. Dick’s tensed, frozen form seemed to melt little by little until he was slumped against the tree; supported purely by his detested bindings.

Klarion stood firmly and kept his eyes shut as Dick became dead weight in his hands.

“What’s-”

Jason elbowed Damian into silence with his good arm, but the jerking motion still brought a wince to his face. They watched for a few breaths before Klarion seemed to clench his jaw and adjust his grip over Dick’s face, bringing his foreheads together in a brotherly intimacy. Slade watched them both with narrowed eyes but refrained from intervening as the witch made minuscule adjustments to his stance and form. After a few moments, he started to mouth something under his breath and his lips moved in a repetitive rhythmic motion. Klarion pressed their foreheads together more firmly before taking a step back. He opened his eyes and looked up to Deathstroke, “The bird is fixed” he said simply.

Slade crossed his arms and stared down at Dick. The kid appeared to be unconscious but Slade had very little expertise in managing anything unearthly or magical, “He doesn't appear to be” he said simply.

Klarion looked at Dick and then back to Deathstroke as if he was confused as well before he answered, “Oooooooooooh yea. It’ll take a teeny while” he pinched his fingers together closely.

Slade peered at the witched, “My security footage estimated that the age reversal took about 2 to 3 hours to complete. Can the same be said for your magic’s reversal?”

Klarion shrugged before remembering he was speaking to Deathstroke. He swallowed heavily, “Nu-uh” he shook his head childishly, “It’ll be quicker. Taking magic is always easier than giving it,” he said like the explanation would suffice

Slade nodded before his wrist shot out like a cobra. Klarion choked as he found his throat in Slade’s vice grip, “You don't get any more chances, rat” Slade hissed, “I’ll be overseeing whatever punishment this gets you, but mark my words, if you ever think to act against me or my student again….”

Klarion nodded frantically but the jerking motion caused his throat to strain in his already tight grip and he choked, gagging dramatically. 

“This would not have happened if he wasn't with you. If you acted in line with your words and actually protected him” Batman growled lowly. 

Slade’s brows rose in amusement, “Is that so?” he inquired.

Batman snarled throwing his shoulders back in a flurry of anger and cape, “You have no right to drag my son around the world, dismantle his morals in an act of backward self-righteous revenge, and then present us with this” he pointed angrily at Dick; small, weak, and unconscious.

Slade followed Bruce’s pointer finger and looked at Dick steadily before looking back, “I don’t?”

Jason snarled and charged at Slade but only got a few steps before Tim was blocking him, “We need to keep our cool until Dick is safe and normal” he hissed under his breath, “Klarion will obey Slade before us and we’re outmanned in terms of weaponry”

Jason cocked his gun off the safety and pointed it silently at the pair as if declaring that he cared little for the obvious disadvantages of magic and meta versus human. Slade huffed from where he stood, still clutching Klarion’s thin pale neck in one hand. Slide released the witch with a disgusted expression and slightly pushed the younger man away, “You have 2 hours before that scrawny neck is snapped, broken, or worse”

Klarion nodded desperately and brought up a pale shaky hand to massage his adams apple.

Chapter 31

Notes:

Hey!

Sorry this one is super long and gets dark/depressing

After Bruce confirmed that Dick was indeed unconscious, he and the others removed Dick from his bonds and placed him gently on the ground. Alfred had reported back to Batman that Slade’s companions were awake and restless but seemed to have decided to stay behind in the cave. After waking up, they hadn't left the bikes that they’d arrived on, but Alfred had reported that, besides cautious glances and obvious attempts to re-arm themselves, they’d been nothing but quiet and polite. Still, Bruce hadn't been surprised in the slightest to learn that Alfred had greeted them with a small pot of tea and finger sandwiches before demonstrating how adept his Ml7 British armed forces training had made him. The short female team lead conveyed that no action would be taken without Deathstroke's explicit permission.

Bruce knew it was safe to assume that Deathstroke had most likely ordered them to stay put in the cave once Dick had been caught and handled. They were a little over an hour and a half into their wait with no disturbance or change so far. Dick lay motionless and calm in Bruce’s arms, but Batman could not have cared less for the stares around him. When Bruce plucked Dick off the cold damp grass, Jason scoffed and Damian protested moving him even an inch. Tim had agreed with Damian but mostly because he feared triggering any magic within Dick that was supposed to be left alone to filter out of him at its own pace. Across the small clearing, Slade stood as still as Bruce. He was leaning against the tree he’d yanked Dick down from and hadn't removed his gaze from Dick once. Not when Bruce examined his son or placed him on the ground, only to pick him up shortly after. The mercenary’s cold steely gaze followed the vulnerable dark-haired boy everywhere he went.

Bruce would have been more worried about the deranged unstable witch at the mercenary’s side if it weren't for his sons already edging the distance between them. Jason was crouched in a low squat slightly in front of Bruce. His shoulders were pulled up to his ears and enlarged by the firm, stout way he positioned himself. He watched Klarion with a menacing look while he loaded and unloaded his pistol. Damian and Tim seemed to be watching Klarion with the same adept attentiveness. They took turns flitting from Jason’s side to Bruce’s side to check on Dick. Klarion flitted around Slade too, knowing well enough to stay away from the mercenary’s personal bubble and far away from any of the Bats.

Batman despised having to work with Deathstroke. The way he found himself partnering with the paid killer so frequently because the man’s foolish and dark influences, had put his oldest in the line of fire. Deathstroke seemed unable to take his attention off the small body in Bruce’s arms, seemingly content and satisfied with watching the boy. Bruce watched Slade watch his boy and had nearly enough of that darkly possessive gaze when he felt Dick’s back muscles contract. He snapped his head down to catch Dick’s features smoothing out from a crinkled expression. 

Everyone caught Bruce’s overreaction and seemed to tense, leaning forward or standing up in some capacity.

“Time to chaaaaaange” Klarion sang in an off-key tone.

“Time to shut that fucking mouth” Jason snapped.

Damian narrowed his domino-covered eyes, “One more word from you, your filthy witch, and you will come to regret ever speaking”

Klarion made a dramatic “Eep” before he sealed his mouth shut and pretended to comically throw away the key. Batman narrowed his eyes on the young man, “What are you referring to?” he despised the witch but knew he was necessary for Dick’s safety and physical return. He hated having to abide by the person who had cursed Dick but knew that a mentally unstable boy under the thumb of Queen Bee was as much to blame for his flawed mental capacity as the Joker’s mother was. Still, the witch had cursed Dick so Bruce knew well enough not to disregard all of his ill-astute ramblings.

Klarion brought up his hand and slowly unlocked his mouth in a very cartoonish manner, “Big clothes got cut and snipped but small clothes only get smaller”

“Todd, shoot him,” Damian ordered.

“Wait” Tim and Bruce snapped.

“Are you referring to the boy’s clothes?” Slade asked lowly. Klarion nodded once, not one to ever push Deathstroke very far. Slade sighed in aggravation, “When the kid woke up confused and half out of his mind, he was in the same clothes he went to bed in the previous night”

“He reported stealing your clothes and cutting them to size,” Batman replied.

Slade shrugged and offered a knowing smirk, “An appropriate response, but they were entirely his clothing”

“Richard must be changed into more fitting clothing?” Damian looked to Batman.

“Why didn't you tell us this an hour ago?” Tim snapped at Klarion, “We’ve been standing around in the cold, doing nothing but waiting”

“Waiting waiting. Tik tik tok” Klarion smiled.

Bruce simmered angrily but wasted no time in comming Alfred, “Agent, A. Please bring out some of Hood's clothes, or mine, to our location”

“Sir?”

“Just bring them” Bruce was past trying to keep his voice polite, “Bring Deathstroke’s men as well” he wouldn't put it past Slade’s men to be trained for methodical and efficient snooping and hacking the moment they were left unattended.

“Very well, Sir” 

Jason seemed to understand Bruce and came to his side, offering his hands out for Dick. Bruce passed Jason his brother without a word before he reached back to unclasp his cape. Slade made a mockingly amused sound across the clearing but was pointedly ignored as Jason and Bruce worked together to divest Dick of his Robin uniform while wrapping him snugly in the Dark Knight's cape. It was a perfectly balanced material that Bruce and Lucious had worked on to ensure that it was lightweight, dark as a starless sky, but not unusable. Lucious had assured Bruce that it could be used as a thermal blanket; while it wouldn't prove to be effective for long, it didn't need to be for a vigilante in the city. It merely needed to prove effective for a short period of time, mostly for extreme situations or for more in-shock victims. This only needed to keep the cold away for as long as it took Alfred to reach them.

By the time, they had swaddled Dick from his Robin uniform into Bruce’s cape in a tight toga-like fashion, his face was offering more and more expressions of wakefulness. 

“Richard?” Damian prodded softly. Dick’s features scrunched slightly before he moaned and turned his head inward, finding its place against Jason’s broad chest. Jason huffed with a furrowed brow and a small annoyed smile as he shifted Dick against himself more firmly, despite being mostly down to one arm. 

“He’s not awake yet” a voice casually remarked from over Jason’s shoulder.

Jason violently jerked and cursed. He spun around to find Klarion a few feet behind him. Jason’s eyes went wide and he whipped his head back toward where the witch had been standing moments ago, “The fuck?” Jason snarled.

Damian and Tim whipped around and reached for their belts in a fluid simultaneous way that would make a younger Batman proud, “Back up, witch!” Damian snarled.

Klarion’s lips parted in surprise before he turned his neck, looking around. He looked back to Robin with a befuddled expression and pointed at himself, silently asking, “Me?”

Tim sighed but didn't lower his guard, “It's pointless, Robin. Klarion’s reputation is as accurate as they come. He’s uncooperative and unstable”

Damian’s lip curled, “Magical rat most likely sold his mind for power” as if Klarion wasn't standing before them.

Klarion fake gasped before a giggle escaped his lips, “It’s ok, I don't really like this version of him either” he snapped his head to the side with an admonishing tone, “Dont lie. You love this one”

Jason’s expression softened into something more disturbed as Klarion turned his head left and right, continuing a one-sided conversation with himself. Beside him, Tim had gone still to the point of earning Damian’s attention, “Is the witch that bothersome, Drake? I can remove him permanently as soon as Richard is returned to normal”

He ignored Batman's, "Robin-no names in the field"

Tim watched Klarion with a strange frozen expression, “No” he shook his head, completely glossing over Damian’s strange offer, “I-It’s not that”

Jason rolled his eyes, seconds away from sucker-punching Klarion himself.

“What if the Light cloned Dick?” Tim whispered in horrid awe. Jason froze as well and looked at Tim in disbelief, “Why the fuck would you say that?” he hissed.

Tim glared, “You heard him! He just implied there’s another Dick out there. He said 'this one'”

“Yea, so? He’s fucking nuts” Jason spat.

Damian crossed his arms and turned on Klarion. The two were about the same height but Damian had started to inherit his father’s natural bulk and muscle, leaving Klarion appearing smaller merely because of his thinner, leaner stature, “Is that what you’re claiming, Klarion?” he sneered his name like this tongue became filthier with every syllable he pronounced.

Klarion seemed to jolt at hearing his name so bluntly but recovered quickly, “Noooooope” he drawled playfully, “At least, not a basic clone” he swished his hand through the air, “More like a soul clone….or a fate clone” he placed a finger on his chin, “Soul clone sounds like a cyclone but they’re nothing alike” he said, completely disregardful of who was listening to him.

Jason stepped forward, prepared to twist the witch’s head from his shoulders when Tim stopped him with a sharp look. Jason bristled, disliking the combination of expressions Tim seemed to have gathered from Bruce and Alfred over the years. Tim looked at Klarion with heavy caution and tried to reel in his demeaning attitude, “Where are these other Dicks?” he asked, “In your head? Or in a lab?”

Damian offered a quick glance over his shoulder to see Alfred approaching with a bundle of dark grey clothing and a multitude of blue sweatshirts. Behind him, Deathstroke’s accomplices trailed behind. The shorter strong-jawed woman was walking stiffly and the tall man seemed to be favoring his right side, the imprints of dark blue coloring were already apparent on his face. Jason turned to greet Alfred as they helped shoulder Dick from Jason's one arm to both older men.

Klarion stared at Tim strangely, like he was the one spouting nonsense and partial sentences, “I mean technically” he said in a strangely attitude-filled sort of way, “They’re in Gotham and Bludhaven and Romania and all over. All Richard Graysons travel far. It’s one of those things that never change”

Bruce watched from the side. His eyes and lips narrowed. Tim forced a pleasant look as he struggled to maintain his patience, “They’re shipping these clones somewhere? Where are they?" Tim tried to engage the witch. Klarion glowered like Tim was being obstinate, “Noooooooooooo” he said in exasperation, “You can never get to them, unless you suddenly start to world jump as well as me”

Tim froze and the way he tensed seemed to halt Jason and Damian. They startled like cats as they watched Tim, trying to determine how and when to act, deferring to him. Behind, Batman was watching their conversation while he and Alfred redressed Dick, “Are you saying that these other Richard Graysons are in other worlds? Like universes?”

Klarion rolled his eyes, “Duh”

Tim sucked in a sharp breath, “You can travel dimensions? To other worlds?”

Klarion nodded, suddenly appreciating the attention, “That's how I got the girl!”

“What girl?” Damian demanded.

Klarion shot him a look for interrupting, “The girl that Nightwing got mad at me over” he sneered, “Weren't you listening?”

Damian huffed a strangled breath as he forced down his irritation. Tim calmed him with a warning look, “So you and Dick fought over this person from another world and you cursed Dick like this when he-”

“Was very mean to me” Klarion declared, “I hate it! In every world he’s soooooo nice. He's soooooo wonderful. But never to me” he pouted, “I just wanted some of that niceness"

“Are you fucking kidding me” Jason over annunciated, “Dick’s too good at making friends that it pissed someone off, and he’s got a world jumping groupie now?”

Tim gave him a strange look, “I guess? Hood, now is not the time to be jealous of Dick”

“I know that!”

“Doesn't sound like it” Damian scoffed.

“Shut it demon offspring” Jason snapped.

Klarion sighed, “More Robins always make it more inconvenient. I like the worlds where he’s alone, although they’re far and few between”

Tim shot his brothers a sharp look before he turned back to Klarion with a polite and placating expression, “So you’ve been to these other worlds? Why? Did the Light send you?”

Klarion shook his head, “Travel is my specialty” he purred in a way that inflated his ego, “The girl’s power has helped to boost my reserves but I could always world jump... location jump”

“Who is this girl?” Tim asked.

Klarion scowled and flipped a hand dismissively, “A nobody” he snapped, “My mistress called her a means to an end. She’s not even in every world. Not like Nightwing”

Jason made a disgruntled sound in his throat before he forced out a cough and then a word that sounded similar to kiss-ass. Klarion was oblivious, “You’re all in every world, actually,” he said, suddenly comfortable enough to lecture Redrobin.

“We are?” Tim asked patiently

Klarion nodded firmly, “Yeppers. You are. What’s most annoying is when you’re brothers” he wrinkled his nose. 

Damian’s hand shot out, only to be snatched to a halt by Jason’s, “We are brothers” he spat, unaware of how aggressively volatile he’d become in a split second.

Klarion rolled his eyes, “Yea, duh. Here you are but there you aren't” he said like it was obvious.

“Have you met the other us’s?” Tim asked cautiously.

Klarion nodded, “Some of them. That’s how I know this Dick Grayson is one of the nicer ones. But it’s really hard to remember them all after so many, 'ya know?”

Tim looked at him strangely as the brothers did very much not know.

“But that's the thing with the multiverse” Klarion continued, unbothered, “There’s too much of everyone and anyone. Like you” Klarion suddenly turned to face Tim head-on.

“Me?” Tim recoiled in surprise.

Klarion nodded and crossed his arms, “You’re allwaaaaaays rich. So the worlds where you’re poor? I think you’re way nicer”

“He’s so fucking cracked” Jason muttered behind them.

Klarion looked behind Tim to Jason, “And you’re poor more than you’re rich, but both still happen-even when Bruce and Thomas don't adopt you”

“Thomas?” Tim's brow crunched.

Klarion rolled his eyes like it was a drag to explain everything, “Bruce Wayne's younger brother, duh. He usually kills Bruce in the worlds without Batman, but that’s beside the point”

Bruce made a low sound in his throat, "Bruce Wayne has no brothers"

"In this world" Klarion replied quickly.

“He knows our pasts too well, knows B’s” Jason snarled lowly.

“He can jump dimensions at will. That's the least of our problems, Todd”

“You know,” Klarion said in a way that childishly begged the others to ask, “What?”

“You birds have some of the most potential I’ve seen in any world”

Jason crossed his arms, “That means a lot coming from you” he intoned with a straight face.

Klarion smirked darkly before the expression was wiped away, "Most people are defined by something and that something stays with them throughout their universes everywheeeeeere I go” Klarion wagged a finger at the boys, “But not you. Nope, I’ve come to realize that you aren't defined by things or ideas. You’re defined by each other”

Damian crossed his arms, “I have little patience for warped poetry and philosophizing sessions” he sneered.

Klarion nodded in a giddy way, “Me too!”

Damian gave him a disappointed look.

“I mean. Technically there has to be a world where this isn't true” he continued, “But I haven't found it since I learned I could world leap”

“You mean every world you've been to has had us in close proximity to each other?” Tim clarified.

Klarion frowned, “More than that birdbrain! Like Batman” he pointed to where Bruce and Alfred were re-clothing Dick. The two men were shouldering away Dick’s form and sending scathing looks at the leering mercenary, “Batman is super different in every world but he always has bats. Batbatbatsbats”

“He’s Baaaaaatman” Damian said as derogatorily as he could.

Klarion glared, realizing he was being mocked, “But he could be Robin man, or-or worm man,” he said like he was actually pitching a good idea, “It’s always bats that traumatize little Brucie Waynie and those fears shape his hero persona. In the end, it's always bats. Always”

“But not us?” Tim clarified slowly.

“Nope. Not you. You 4 are as wild and fluid as the fucking wind!” he suddenly screeched, earning looks from everyone around them. Klarion calmed significantly, “But you 4 are your defining characteristic. Not Robins, or being heroes, or Batman…not even dying” he winked at Jason salaciously. 

Tim reflexively put a hand up to stop Jason from stalking forward, “Why does that interest you?” Tim asked, “Does that mean something?”

Klarion shrugged, “If you want it to, it can. But there is no God or greater meaning, there’s just existence and whatever we choose to focus on and pursue in that existence. I’ve seen a lot of people live their lives the same way or suuuuper different ways. But you 4 are the only ones I’ve seen deviate from every. One. Else” he said slowly and pointedly, “In most of your worlds you’re actual blood brothers-did you know that’s why you all look alike?”

Jason and Damian shared a strange look, really analyzing the other’s contrasting skin and pitch-dark hair, “You’re supposed to be brothers in most worlds, so this one is a deviant actually. One where you find each other after birth”

Damian looked like he wanted to speak but Klarion continued rambling, “In most worlds, Richard Grayson is a tall, strong sweetheart. Well, you all are in your own ways, but your big brother really takes to the protective older sibling stereotype well. Except for that one world where his redhead gets lost in the speed force. I think he was a high-functioning alcoholic there!”

They all offered slow cautious glances back towards Bruce’s arms where a newly clothed Dick lay still asleep against Bruce’s chest, swimming in a cotton jacket. Klarion laughed a full-bellied laugh and watched them watch Dick, “He’s awfully mean to anyone that's not you, but he’s deviated more than any other Dick Grayson has before so I thought maybe this was my chance to be friends”

“You were trying to be his friend?” Damian squawked.

Klarion pointed, “Well obviously, he didn't want to be friends, but none of the other ones wanted to either. None of you ever do:”

“That's because you're off your fucking rocker” Jason spat.

Klarion clapped his hands, “You sound like all the other Redhoods too! It’s actually quite funny, the worlds when you’re ordered like this, you’re much more manageable, but when you’re ordered backward, you’re all intolerable”

Jason wrinkled his nose, “What? Like the demon brat here being the oldest?”

“Bingo!” Klarion crowed, “Any possibility you could think of is a world or a universe out there for us. There’s one where Tim Drake bankrupts Wayne Enterprises, there’s a world where Damian Wayne is the poster boy for sexual and social acceptance”

Damian threw up his hands, “Shut your mou-”

Klarion spoke over Damian easily, “There’s one where Jason Todd is the golden child that excels at everything and there’s even one world where Dick Grayson is the problem child who spends every 4th weekend in jail or with his probation officer”

Tim found himself falling silent as he listened to more and more. These strange stories about them in other worlds seemed like a dream so real that it followed you into wakefulness. He shared a look with Jason and found his feelings reflected back at him from his brother’s green eyes. Zantanna had confirmed that there were other worlds out there, unreachable by simple, mortal means, but at the time she had said it was fine because cross-dimension selves should never interact. That it couldn't be done without severe consequences. Still, it was almost unsettling to hear of worlds where Tim’s background, the building blocks of his own self weren't what he remembered them being. Worlds where Jason was a goody two shoes or where Damian overcame his desire to push people away at the first sign of weakness. Even weirder was a world where none of them knew Bruce...didn't know what it was like to defend Gotham.

“There’s usually some things that stay the same, or nearly similar” Klarion continued his speech, “Where you’re sought after for your mind” he looked at Tim, “And where you come from modern-day royalty and assassin dynasties” he looked at Damian, “It’s wonderful to make bets with myself and still be surprised every time I visit a new reality. There’s one world I visited 2 months ago and guess what?” he didn't wait for them to guess, “Richard Grayson was the head of the Court of Owls, the leader and their prophet of a new age. He was their sin delivered and their savior all in one. Truly remarkable. Might have to go back in 20 years to see if they all fell apart and tore each other to shreds”

“There’s another world too where Slade Wilson raises Richard Grayson to be the strongest being on earth. Stronger than Superman even. He killed his master I think, but when I was visiting they had a worldwide broadcast showcasing how Renegade was gifting his brother, Redhood the continent of Australia”

“What?” Damian balked.

Klarion nodded, misunderstanding Damian’s response, “Yea!”

Jason smirked and leaned down, “Why? Are you jealous I got Dickie to give me a whole continent for my birthday?”

Damian turned around with a spiteful glare, “Don't be so smug, that’s the smallest continent, Todd”

Jason stopped short and looked at Tim for confirmation. Tim rolled his eyes and nodded. Jason frowned and crossed his arms.

“But I don’t think you care about those things, those worlds…not really”

“And what would you know of our interests?” Damian scoffed.

“I know you’d love to see the worlds where Big Brother faces torture and damnation, but doesn't break, doesn't let his dark vengeful thoughts turn to soot in the hands of Owls and mercenaries and-”

Klarion was cut off as Damian’s fist snapped out. Spittle and blood made a quick appearance as his head was knocked to the side in a harsh loud cacophony of skin on bone, “Enough!” Damian yelled, “Richard did not break! He did not!”

“Woah, dude” Jason was at his side in an instant. He placed a calming hand on his shoulder and positioned his body in a way that was transparently designed to counter and intercept any other attempts from the shorter boy. Klarion massaged his bottom right jaw where Damian’s fist had connected and then slid down, nearly tearing the skin, “You know” he whispered sinisterly, “If you cooperate with us…with me and my mistress. I can send you all to a world of your choosing”

The brothers stopped short at such a bizarre, unexpected offer. They were frozen, watching Klarion in varying levels of distrust and disgust. Klarion straightened his lapels, sneering at his scuffed shoes, “I mean it” he said again, “I can send you all to a world where you’re brothers…real brothers. With no stress and strain of the Dark Knight. We all know Daddy can be a bit of a downer, am I right?”

Jason rolled his shoulders, throwing his jacket higher up on his shoulders, “Listen, you slimy little rat-”

“But I can!” Klarion hissed, backing up for every step Jason made, “I can make your brother better again…nicer again. I can! It's because this is one of the few worlds that you aren't actually related” Klarion stopped and leaned up into Jason's face, “I'm a world hopper that's what I do-what I am. And from all the worlds I've seen and helped destroy….. you 4 are always bound in some way. Something driven beyond fate or magic. You either destroy the world or destroy each other” Jason’s anger had lost some of its heat as Klarion’s words took on a more reverent tonality, a more obsessed attitude. The oily-haired man leaned into Jason’s space, “The only common factor is that you always do it together” he whispered. His eyes were wide with the awe of someone who had more magic beyond his mental capacity. 

Jason shoved him away with a growl, “No thanks, fruit loop. None of us are about to take life advice from a freak”

The shove moved him further than it should have and seemed to renew Jason with the vigor that most men lorded over women in life. Klarion cemented his polished shoes into the damp soft grass and shot a venomously deranged look at Jason, “You’d better think about denying me. I’m all but a God and you have no idea how significant my power is-will be”

Jason scoffed and a genuine smile graced his lips, “Fuck being a God. We’re non-believers”

Whether it was from Jason’s ease in response or his literal words, a switch was flipped, Klarion’s lips thinned, his eyes became lidded, and a silent fury overtook him. Deathstroke’s voice cut through their interaction and everyone’s attention snapped towards the deep timber. They turned to find that Dick was tossing and turning in Bruce’s arms. His expression was scrunched and pained-looking. His arms and fingers spazzed and seized, looking to grasp onto something before repeatedly falling lax, “He’s waking up. You have more important things to see to besides your unsalvagable ego”

Klarion’s features smoothed out and he dipped his head respectfully. He made his way over to Slade’s side before looking at Batman. His cape was draped around him like pooled shadows. Batman begrudgingly gave him a nod to approach, but the white lenses of his cowl were nearly as thin as needles. Slade smirked at the Dark Knight, "Don't worry yourself" he stated, knowing that Batman had overheard the proof that Klarion had access to their secrets and more, "Despite his deranged ego, the rat has a warped sense of honor. He can't play God"

Klarion knelt in front of the Dark Knight, on the other side of Dick, and reached out to briefly feel his forehead. Dick mumbled and turned away from the cold clammy hand. His body offered a shudder as another midnight gust of wind blew past them. Batman growled and seemed to lean over Dick even more, covering his form with his draped cape as well as h could.

“Well?” Damian demanded from behind.

Klarion shrugged, “Well well. Timmy fell down a well”

“How is he?” Tim asked in a deadpan tone.

Klarion shrugged and pushed himself up and away from Batman and his Robin, “How should I know? He’s asleep"

“So you just felt him up for nothin'?” Jason balked, “You fuckin-”

Jason was cut off by a harsh cough expelling from Dick. His throat bulged and his chest seized from the force of it but when Batman instinctively reached for his charge, Klarion held up his hands, “Dont! Touch!” he yelped. Klarion snapped his wide black eyes down to Batman, “Dont! Touch!” he repeated just as out of control but not as loudly. Bruce set his hard-lined gaze on the witch but slowly lifted his hands away as a sign of compliance. He didn't remove himself from his protectively bent-over position though, noting from his periphery how Slade stepped forward a little as well.

Dick stilled before another coughing fit shook his body. His head tossed and turned to the side as silent gasps parted his lips. Bruce was tensed and hovering above a moaning twisting son. He was seconds away from disregarding the witch when the same dust-like glimmer that had transported the witch to their location seemed to covet Dick’s body. The hazy wind-like aura twisted and wormed its way about his shoulders and throat, coating his thighs and fingers in a way that had Bruce stunned. Every other blink had him second-guessing if he was seeing strong winds or magic at work. Before their eyes, Dick’s twisting and writhing seemed to leave him slightly larger than before. If Bruce wasn’t aware of what was happening he would've assumed that his eyesight was faulty and that every sporadic maneuver of limbs was leaving Dick in a different place than a few seconds prior. But no-it was the magic at work-the curse leaving his skin.

Dick wasn't moving positions, he was taking up more space, filling out and covering more and more of the grass than a mere child could ever hope to. Bruce hated to admit that he was stunned at the unexpected way Dick was reshaped and brought back to normal. Before their eyes, his thin neck grew into his suddenly broad shoulders. His narrow waist, elongated and grew, and his forearms and thighs tripled in size, reflecting what a lifetime of acrobatics and crime-fighting could do to the body. Bruce watched Dick’s face feeling like he was watching a childhood slide show at maximum speed, flipping through aged-up photos until it was a blur of movement. 

They watched for a moment longer, dreading that something worse or unexpected would happen again, but Dick seized the opportunity before anyone could question their next course of action out loud. Dick’s eyes flew open and Bruce, despite knowing the relief and joy he should've felt at seeing his son was well and reinstated back into his proper body, felt his heart sink as Dick’s irises flared a bright gold. He gasped violently and his hands scrambled to grasp onto and into anything. He dug his clenched hands down, gripping fistfuls of wet dirt and grass clumps. His back arched and he stared unseeing up at the dark canopy of trees. 

Behind them, Bruce felt his sons jerk and rush to his side, unsure of how to help or stop anything. Bruce stayed still, desperate to find an opportunity for his intervention and aid. Klarion seemed to sense their desperation even though he hadn't removed his eyes from Dick, “Dont touch him! Let the magic dispel at its own velocity”

Jason snarled but obeyed, his fingers were slightly curled with the urge to hurt or clench. Dick wretched himself over onto his side before he seemed to collapse onto his stomach, gasping for breath that held no evidence of being stolen from him. 

“Richard-”

“Don't” Klarion hissed impatiently. Dick sucked in enormous breaths as he fought to get from his stomach to his hands and knees. His forearms trembled violently and he struggled to hold his weight beneath his quivers. He let out a guttural shout as his wide yellow eyes struggled to bridge the distance between his body and his mind. They watched as spittle dripped from his lips and black inky veins branched up from beneath his sweatshirt to lay claim over his neck and jaw before doing the same to his forearms and wrists.

“The electrum” Tim gasped. He looked at Bruce, “It's happening again. It’s hurting him!”

As if agreeing, Dick’s back seized and the muscles along his broad back and shoulders seemed to spasm an ungodly amount. Dick squeezed his eyes shut and roared before dropping his head low. Klarion gasped, “It’s wonderful to see it up close" He looked up at Slade who had made his way intimately closer but stood still as a statue and as old as ice, “I've only ever seen him heal. I’ve never seen him under the effects of too much of it”

“What’s happening?!” Damian took a step forward.

“The forceful shove into adulthood brought back his electrum all over again” Slade answered simply. He dragged his gaze up to connect with a stunned Damian, “I’m assuming” he replied coolly as ever.

“What? Like when he was put through that fucking torture to begin with?” Jason demanded, referring to Cobb’s evolution project.

Slade smirked and his shoulder rose and fell with the amusement, “Not even close. Your brother screamed for hours the first time”

Everyone froze and dropped to the ground as a loud bang shot off just above their heads. Bruce whipped his head up from where he was crouched over Dick to see Jason had pulled out his firearm and shot Deatshtroke in the shoulder. The mercenary was watching Jason coldly but the only evidence of his wound was the small red hole, dribbling dark red down his upper arm. Damian and Tim released their breaths, and the grips on their own weapons. Slade’s stoic attention was snagged by Dick quieting. There was a lull in his heaving breaths and hacking coughs as he simmered down to merely panting. He seemed to be finding himself and becoming more cognizant as he struggled to push himself up from his all-fours position. 

“Dick?” Bruce whispered softly, hoping not to startle the young man. Dick whipped his head up and made instant eye contact with Bruce. A frozen, feral expression was plastered across his wide eyes and parted lips, “Dick?” Bruce tried again.

“Master Dick?” Alfred tried from where he’d been forced to take a step back amidst all the pandemonium. Dick’s gaze jumped from him and his irises dilated in a strange way, as if disbelief and awareness were struggling over who was given priority in his half-aware mind. 

He licked his lips, looking hesitant, “Is-” his voice cracked and he tried again, “Is this real?” he croaked weakly. His voice was deeper but gravely.

“What do you remember?” Slade’s deep voice cut across their interaction and Dick turned as quickly as he could. Midturn he spotted Klarion and the witch smiled in a giddy way. He waved enthusiastically but Dick’s expression turned horrid and morbid the longer they made eye contact, “No” he whispered, “No no no no no no no no” he started to ramble, getting louder and less coherent.

“Richard-” Damian stepped forward but Dick yelled out, “No!” 

“Apprentice”
“Dick” 

Slade and Bruce both said simultaneously. They shot each other venomous looks to rival the other but Dick wasn't aware of their silent feud. He desperately shoved himself sideways until his bottom was supporting his weight. He curled his chin into his chest and cupped his arms over his head as if to shield himself from external and internal dangers, “No no no no no” he continued to whisper, a broken tone layering every word; making it sound more like a plea that a statement.

“Help him,” Jason ordered Tim before he retrieved his firearm. He leveled a look, and his gun, at the mercenary that rivaled the Bat’s famous glare.

Tim scrambled to Dick’s side before pausing. Damian joined him hesitantly and they hovered, uncertain as to how to best help their crumbling brother, “Dick? Dick, it’s us”

“Richard” Damian tried.

“He can't hear youuuuu-AHHHH!” Klarion’s off-key tune transformed into an eccentric wail as Jason shot him square in the shoulder. The witch sobbed horribly and fell back onto his bottom. He tried to scramble backward but that only reignited the pain along his injured arm, so he settled for clutching around the wound. Jason sneered down at the witch with a deleterious expression before slowly redirecting his arm back to Slade.

Slade stood stoically, looking unimpressed, “I could have done that,” he offered.

Jason glowered, “Say one more word” he snapped.

Slade looked like he was about to respond, and test Redhood, when movement from Damian and Tim caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder to spot Damian methodically caressing the back of Dick’s hand. He had removed his gloves and was running a thumb over the back of Dick’s hand. Besides the younger boy, Tim was leaning forward with a forceful warm smile gracing his eyes. Jason could see the slight tremble beside his eyes, confirming it was the same kind of smile TIm offered to other kids at Bruce’s late-night galas. Jason felt his galloping heartbeat calm…slightly. Apparently, Damian and Tim had gotten through to Dick and were working toward calming their oldest brother.

“Can you hear us, Dick?” Tim asked.

Dick swallowed heavily before nodding jerkily. 

Tim smiled, “Can you tell me who I am? Who he is?” he nodded at Damian.

Dick glanced quickly at a smiling Damian before he looked back at Tim. His lips thinned and he never blinked. Tim’s smile faltered, unsure if Dick was having trouble or refusing to answer.

“Nightwing” Batman barked suddenly.

Somehow, Dick’s eyes managed to widen even more and he leaned forward, sitting up as straight as possible, “Yes” he gasped out. His gaze searched Tim’s face for confirmation that he had responded correctly.

“Father!” Damian snapped sharply.

Bruce didn't reply, focusing on Dick’s frozen form, “Names. Report” he demanded sternly.

Tim was seconds from whirling on Bruce when Dick forced out, “Tim” he swallowed, “Tim, Damian”

Damian’s shoulders visibly fell as his brother spoke his name in a familiar way for the first time in days. He was conflicted…stuck between who to focus his attention on and if he should interject to diminish any harm his father might force onto Richard. All of them had spent their childhoods, into their adult years, learning to cope with Bruce’s training. It was life-saving skills that forced them all to be light sleepers and highly aware of their surroundings at all times. One time Damian almost exposed himself too much on a school field trip that Richard had pushed their father to allow him to attend. It was an entire state away for a bird-watching club that Gotham Prep’s middle school arranged. Damian brought a camera and all of his drawing supplies to capture any birds that stood out to him but when his teacher called out a Robin, Damian had whipped around so violently he’d gained the entire group’s attention. Damian forced the memory away and dropped his head, determined to keep Richard calm and in the moment with his brief touches. He had never felt more foolish, putting so much mental and physical energy towards something so simple and unsophisticated as holding hands, but Damian refused to stop, lest he make things worse for the original Robin. 

Dick surprised them all by speaking, “It was a dream” he pleaded, “Please tell me that was a dream” his voice cracked. His glistening eyes nearly glowed bright yellow as he searched Tim and Bruce's features for the answer. He refused to blink as he looked between them.

“You know the answer to that, kid”

Jason snarled and jerked his gun aggressively at Slade, "I swear to fucking God if you don't shut up”

Dick and everyone else craned their heads to look at Jason and Slade. Slade was staring down Dick with an unreadable expression. Dick watched him with equal intensity but couldn't contain the shiver that was evoked. Slade smirked.

“Dick”

Dick didn't look away.

“Dick!” Jason snapped. Dick jerked and looked slightly to the left, pinning Jason with a dazed expression. Klarion sobbed again and the sound earned Dick’s attention again, forcing the dark-haired young man to look at him. Dick’s expression began to crumble again but Damian snatched his hand more firmly, “No no no no no” 

“Richard!” Damian tried to speak over his brother.

“God, fuc-no!” Everything was too much. Sounds and thoughts were blending together like a mental tidal wave. He felt unable to control his own intake and comprehension of information and all he felt capable of was drowning beneath the shock and shame from the last few days. He hated Klarion, he did... and the witch was right in front of him, but he felt unable to light a fire beneath that rage in the face of the overwhelming helplessness that the curse had forced on him.

“That can’t have happened-THAT-CANT!-” Dick’s shout cut off into an angry gasp as he slammed his fist down beside him. The soft skin of his partially exposed palm slammed down onto a jagged, open-faced root, drawing blood. 

“Dick!” Tim and Damian both tried to get closer but Dick snapped his head up to them, snarling instinctually. Both boys froze but Dick was past caring or realizing the cause of their hesitation, he needed space. He needed clarity. He needed to forget that Bruce had ever seen him as such a child again. He needed to erase every possibility-every possible person that was capable of enforcing that kind of weakness onto him again. He refused to believe that he had been put through torture and deprivation, pushed his family away, cut his morals to the bone, and more, just for some mentally unstable magic wielder to step in and tilt his world on its axis.

“Get away-get away!” Dick felt like he was pleading but his brothers and father only heard short snarls and gasps from the cornered dark-haired man. Tim and Damian looked fractured. Unsure of how to help or how close they could get, but too worried to distance themselves or allow Dick more space and freedom. Batman rose to his full height and allowed his cape to fall back and away from his shoulders, “Dick”

Dick’s eyes glistened as they locked onto Bruce but it was unclear if they were reflecting under the full moon or something else. He looked like he was putting his remaining energy and faculties into sitting up and maintaining eye contact, “Stay away” he ordered in a thick voice.

Batman took another step forward, making sure to go slowly when Slade drew their attention, “Enough” his voice was louder and firmer than the cool flick that had taunted Jason. Bruce and Jason both curled their lips as he disregarded them. He leisurely stepped over the quivering witch at his feet and prowled nearer and nearer, appearing much more predatory than any man had the right to, “You’ve done enough” he purred, “I’ll take it from here”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Tim made his way up the stairs with his 5th energy drink. Alfred had locked them all out of the kitchen as soon as Deathstroke had taken his men and Dick. He knew that no one in the Wayne household would be content to sit in bed and try to sleep after the last few days but he didn't want to make it easier to fall into insomnia again. They’d had Dick back. Not only that, but he’d been innocent and naive of all the damage he would cause and come to suffer in the next 10 years. He’d been happy and smiling and it had offered a new Bruce to all of them. One that Tim and Damian had never believed to have existed and one that Jason had forgotten behind a veil of green. 

Slade had stepped in and whisked his team away earlier. Klarion, the wimpering rat had been forced to his feet so that he could teleport them all away, but not before Slade had pulled Bruce to the side and informed them that they had a pest problem they should probably take care of upstairs. Tim’s mind had spun and scrambled with possibilities as to what it may mean but Batman had turned around and immediately ordered Alfred to call the best, most immediate pest control service he could reach with Wayne-level money. Private, quiet, and quick.

“You don't think he was talking about a traitor?” Damian had asked, "A rat?

Batman shook his head, eager to use short, one-word answers, “Wilson would've mentioned something about the JL or YJ team if that were the case. He specifically told us a pest for the manor. That excludes anyone that doesn't live with us”

“So?” Jason snapped. His fingers continued to twitch like he was feathering the trigger on his gun still.

“Wilson is utilizing more than mortal means by bringing Klarion into the solution”

“He was the problem” Jason shot back, fuming.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Jason but continued, “Wilson has never used magic as a resource. To solve, or create problems, so this means the Light is becoming more reliant on non-regulatory weapons”

“Like Klarion or Psimon” Tim filled in. Batman nodded, “So you think that Slade’s warning is talking about a magic spy?”

Damian frowned and scoffed, "Magic is for the unambitious. Look how powerful it's made Klarion, tsk, such a weakling"

Batman clenched his jaw, “Something outside of the standard listening devices that the cave is scanned for. Wilson mentioned upstairs so we can assume that the Manor itself is no longer secure because of magical means. I’m having Alfred fumigate to eliminate any biological interference first and then I’m going to bring up technology from the cave to eliminate any possible recording or audio that may also be planted”

“You dont think Dick-”

“No,” Batman said shortly, sharply.

Tim ran a hand through his hair “Then why would Deathstroke offer up any information that would benefit us? The man is despicable and worse than a low life”

“He is” Batman agreed, “But if Dick is genuine in his attempt to take down the court and distance himself from us as a martyr tactic.... Then Wilson will only benefit from any actions he doesn't take against us. It will endear Dick to him”

“What? Like fucking brownie points for not being as much of an asshole as possible?” Jason snarked.

“Dick thinks he is saving us by removing threats. If Wilson acts along a similar ideology, Dick may be more inclined to Deathstroke if he sees him not putting us in danger either”

Damian protested but Batman continued, “Your brother has not been in his right mind for a handful of years now, but now he thinks because there is a clear set goal and mission to work towards, that his priorities are lucid; more reliable. He cannot be trusted to spot any manipulations or attempts to deceive him from the one person who he thinks he can trust with his darker desires right now. Wilson is listed as a dangerous manipulator for a reason"

“He probably thinks Slade is helping him because it’s right”

Damian crossed his arms, “We should have corralled Richard home sooner. He needs to be forced to face the fact that Deathstroke is using him to mass produce chaos”

Tim shook the memory from his mind as he reached the top of the landing. He could almost hear Dick’s soft voice reminding him not to focus too much of his mental energy on things that he couldn't change. Especially if they made him feel awful, “You know something needs to change when your mental thoughts affect how you physically feel” Dick told him one time. Remembering even that made his chest ache.

He seemed unable to accomplish anything productive so he’d accepted a sleeping tablet from Alfred before making his way upstairs. He was headed to his room when he passed Damian’s. The door was slightly cracked and Tim realized he hadn't seen Damian since Deathstroke had manhandled a barely conscious Dick through Klarion’s strange mist field. Tim knew the younger was most likely not handling the past few days very well, but even thinking about the damage that each one of them was dealing with was too much of a strain on Tim’s mind. He felt like the Webster dictionary definition for exhausted and overstimulated….defeated.

Despite himself, Tim peered through the cracked door. He didn't see much so he nudged the door open slightly, curious as to why Damian had neglected not to close his door. The current Robin had always been sensitive about his privacy, having grown up with little to none. He had demanded no one enter without knocking when Dick started to habitually snoop through his room looking for new drawings or gift ideas. Ironically, it was Dick that informed the youngest boy that he needed to draw a bright and colorful sign to alert the household to Damian’s wishes. Dick suggested KNOCK FIRST. Jason suggested GET OUT, but ultimately, Damian chose Dick’s idea. He had protested, reminding their older brother of how silly and unsophisticated the idea and notion was. Dick had pushed back though and stated it was very typical for Western minors to partake in the sign-on-the-door activities. Dick had even scrounged up old pictures to prove that Jason and Tim had plastered large and loud signs on their bedroom doors at some point. Damian gave in and the sign had never left his door, even when he turned 18.

He leaned in further, noting that the bed was clean and made. The desk further to the right was vacant as well. Tim pulled the door back to its barely cracked position, prepared to leave when a slight flutter caught his attention. He jerked his eyes to the window to see the long curtains had been blown upward with a cold slight of air. Tim furrowed his brown and stepped into the room. He made his way closer to the window and spotted where it was cracked. Soon after, he spotted Damian just beyond the window. He was perched in a small, compressed ball just beyond the window. He was wearing a dark black and blue jacket that Tim instantly recognized as a Nightwing-themed hoodie. A large blue bird with elongated wings that stretched onto the wearer’s fingertips. One Christmas, Dick had bought them all merchandise for their own hero, getting a Superman fleece blanket for Bruce’s bed. He wasn't surprised that Damian had sequestered Dick’s Nightwing jacket away to his own room. 

Tim watched Damian sit on the roof with his knees pulled to his chest and his chin nestled atop his knees, “You didn't knock” Damian’s muffled voice sneered against the wind.

“I know,” Tim said. Neither of them was looking to pick a fight. He opened the window and clambered out slowly to join the younger boy, vaguely noting how fortunate he was to already be wearing a long-sleeved fleece shirt. 

In a low crouch, he walked over to Damian’s side, feeling overly loud and clumsy as his sneakers made clacks and thuds against the manor’s tiled roof. He plopped himself down with an exaggerated sigh, hoping to lighten the tension somehow. They sat in silence for a while and Tim noted that Damian was purposefully angled towards the backyard where Dick had been returned to normal and then promptly wrenched from their company again. The wind howled, prickling Tim’s skin along his neck and hands but he kept silent, tightening his grip over his own knees whenever the urge to shiver overcame him.

“Do you think he was right?”

Tim startled, surprised that Damian had spoken at all.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

“The witch” Damian repeated, “Do you think he was being truthful when he claimed to know that there are other versions of Richard that survived his….hardships and still came back to us”

Tim fell silent, bothered by the questions and Damian's obvious mental direction, “No” he answered eventually.

Damian scoffed scornfully, “The witch has access to the multiverse and you think there is a version of Richard out there that just doesn't exist?” he posed the question like Tim was being foolish.

Tim frowned, “Why did you ask if you’re so set on your own answer?” he shot back.

Damian didn't answer so Tim sighed, “To be honest, I really do believe that” he felt Damian shoot him a cautious glance from the side, “Call me hopeless or overly optimistic, but I don't believe there is a version of Dick that faced the Court and came back to us right after because that would mean our version of Dick chose not to. I know there is a lot about the other dimensions and their coexisting pre-natural rules that I don't understand but I do know that Dick would never leave us if he could help it. Which means that this other version that Klarion was blabbing about is negated by default”

Damian was silent for a long time but he nodded silently. Tim hoped his more methodical explanation helped the boy believe him more. Damian was always slighted towards more clinical and logical beliefs over emotional ones. 

“I-I hope you are correct Drake” Damian croaked, “Because if that is the case and he is a lying rat, just as he appears so, then we did not miss our opportunity”. Discomfort rippled along his back and shart wet stings seared the backs of his eyes as Damian's voice became tighter and tighter.

“What are you talking about?” he replied quickly, casually.

“When that pathetic nuisance offered to send us to a world where we could be brothers. Real brothers. But we disregarded him too quickly and missed out opportunity to have a happy life” Damian’s voice broke and his pitch wavered as he swallowed.

Tim’s hand twitched in his direction but he stilled himself, “You can't think like that” he reminded the boy sternly, hoping he wasn't coming off as too forceful, “You can't trust Klarion because his magic thrives off mischief and mayhem. He’s only content when others aren't” Tim hoped Damian wasn't aware of the completely improvised BS he was pushing. Klarion was an asshole and a jerk and a lowlife but Tim had no idea how truly accurate or crafty he was.

“Damian” Tim started cautiously, “You've…always done pretty well when it comes to facing the truth”

Damian shot him an angry watery glare so Tim rushed to supply an explanation, “I’m serious” he said, “Most kids, well people actually, have a hard time acknowledging or facing hard truths. Reality basically. But you know, your mom and grandfather and then Bruce…. Well,” Tim trailed off, “Basically, what I’m trying to say is that one of those hard truths is that our life isn't perfect-our world isn't perfect…but no world is…It's why it's so easy for me to call BS on Klarion”

He felt Damian looking at him more consciously now. The younger boy had turned his head to rest his cheek on his knee.

“No one’s life is perfect” Tim chuckled, “Definitely not ours, but I wouldn't want another one just because this life is shit”

Damian’s lips hinted at a smirk and Tim reciprocated, feeling somewhat like he was mimicking Jason’s version of life advice.

“Even if we did somehow get to go to live a life where we were all happy and real brothers, it wouldn't be our lives…our Dick. It wouldn't be the same. Wouldn't be right” he looked down at the ground, counting notches in the roof along the way, “But one truth I find pretty easy to acknowledge is that our Dick did face torture and kidnappings, hell…Dick died ” Tim stressed, “But he did come back, Damian. He did”

Damian looked unconvinced but Tim didn't relent, “Dick came out the other side of experiments and brainwashing and conditioning, for us. He’s still doing all that fucked up evasive shit for us. Dick being here, Dick apologizing at our last mission, and even choosing Slade in a warped way to protect us-that's proof he did come out the other side. You heard Klarion, we have the strongest toughest Dick he’s seen so far”

"Klarion said meanest” Damian grumbled.

Tim smirked slightly at Damaina’s need to challenge everything, “He did, but I doubt any other version of Dick died and still came back to us in any other world. Getting caught and tortured is old news for us” he smirked, “But our Dick has been through the most and still came back to us-even with memory loss. I don’t care about what the other versions of Dick have done. The other versions of him that joined Slade or went on a rampage. In every world, Dick cares for us, but in our world, Dick isn't our real brother but treats us like we are”

A ghost of guilt washed over Damian’s face and he pursed his lips, turning his face away, “I didn't mean it like that. I know we are true brothers” he mumbled.

Tim quirked a smile, “But something about it all still bothers you?” he pushed.

Damian shrugged, “When I first started to realize I would live a better life with Father…here. I realized that there was a possibility of being separated. Father had no legal custody over me at first and if American CPS were to separate us, there would be no incentive to keep non-blood-related brothers together. That fact never easily left my mind, especially after learning that Richard was never legally adopted”

Tim nodded, “I understand” he soothed.

A strange knocking sound drew both their eyes. They turned to find Jason grumbling as he clambered over the narrow window sill and onto the roof. Jason threw himself down with a grunt, rudely finding a spot between Tim and Damian, “I’ll believe we have the coolest Dick when he gives me Australia” 

Damian glared and fisted his hands, “Yo-”

Damian was abruptly cut off as Jason threw a leather-bound arm over his shoulder.

“I thought you left” Tim prodded Jason, “You can't have me actually believing you’re staying the night here”

Jason didn't answer but pulled out his phone with an exaggerated huff, “Here. Order something, I’m hungry and too lazy to deal with customer service at 2 am”

Damian looked from Jason to his phone and then back again. His gaze was distant and too focused all at once. Tim smiled and leaned back against his palms, “Get me a combo” he said casually.

Damian looked at Tim before allowing himself to relax. He accepted the phone and ducked his head to start ordering off the restaurant’s menu. Tim smiled at Jason who looked at him with a disgruntled expression. Jason looked away but Tim caught the slight tilt to his lips.

—--

Dick sat against the edge of his bed, his butt on the ground and his head on the comforter’s edges. He stared listlessly at the wall across from him.

“Richard?”

Dick jerked in surprise and looked to his open doorway, finding Wintergreen staring at him expectantly, “I asked if you were sure you didn't want dinner”

Dick felt mild surprise flit over his dulled sense, “Oh” he dropped his head backward again and sat there for a minute before he realized Wintergreen was expecting an answer, “No, thanks Will” he croaked.

Wintergreen offered a pitying smile before he dipped his head and departed. Dick felt the ghost of irritation well up at Wintergreen's response but he didn't have the energy or the motivation to do anything about it. He hadn't felt the desire to do much of anything since Slade had dragged him back to their North American base of operations. He remembered the pain and stretching, almost like quick growing pains were smarting through his limbs. He remembered snatches of conversation and glimpses of Bruce and his brothers, even moments of his team hovering over him, redressing him, or covering his shoulders in blankets. 

Dick blinked sluggishly, not interested in remembering any of those moments well enough for them to become clear. His breathing was shallow and his sinuses and throat felt raw… sensitive. Like any particular thoughts or deep breaths might push over the edge. Dick wasn't sure if he would rampage or bawl but he had little interest in either. 

Too much had gone on against his will or without his consent. Slade had taken one look at him and understood. He’d given Dick a mild sedative, placed a water bottle in his hand,d and ordered him to his room. Dick had felt distantly thankful.

He knew he couldn't allow this to happen. This decrease in interest. This lack of consideration for the image he was projecting to whoever saw him arrive at base. He knew he had things to attend to, trainings to oversee, troops to organize, missions to coordinate, and ….well Dick knew he had a handful of issues he had to follow up on over the last few days. Whether it was his wish or Slade’s, Dick knew he had to take action against Klarion. What the witch had done was unforgivable and Dick was feeling more slighted towards cruelty and harsh punishment. He didn't care a wink that Klarion was unstable and without very much support under Queen Bee. He knew he had to check in on his brothers and make sure they were doing well at the very least. He knew he should check on his team after hearing reports of how Jason and Bruce had incapacitated them all too. He also had to check in on Slade’s remark that Bruce might have a spy upstairs. Dick had no recollection of what that might mean and was about to let it rest. But right now….he couldn't- didn't want to do anything other than stare at his wall and let the world pass by him.

His body undulated between a strange disinterest, a fluid surging apathy, that would crescendo until he found himself biting his bottom lip to keep the suddenly overwhelming emotions at bay. After a few moments, the tide inside him would fall again and the numb aloofness would permeate again.

He heard footsteps make their way towards his room but Dick didn't look their way. He didn't want this buzzed detached feeling to to leave him. He didn't want to even check his periphery for whoever had the gall to disturb him. His team didn't have permission to access his rooms without an escort or special clearance and Slade had looked busy the moment he sent Dick off, and Wintergreen knew better than to poke the bear for a 3rd time. The footsteps planted themselves just outside Dick’s door, but still, the young man did not look.

After a while, the complacent and indifferent notions settled over his mind like a warm comforter and Dick found himself partially forgetting about the newcomer; this was until a sigh broke him of his peaceful dispassion.

That sigh.

It was deep and warm, holding a tone that stirred something in Dick’s awareness; even when he resisted the connections between himself and the originator of that sound. It was a rare echo of emotion the man hardly ever let show. Genuionity was something preserved for his children or oldest friend…or heir. Something that held the remnants of his iced-out humanity-his fading patience and wavering empathy. Slade stepped into the room. His boots sounded heavy even in small, quiet steps. 

When the mercenary was close enough for Dick to spot without moving his head, he allowed his curiosity ad ingrained teachings to drag his eyes upward. The man was unmasked and watching him with a level of scrutiny that would usually have Dick’s fingers itching and his skin prickling. Despite his wishes, Dick found the man’s presence comforting on some level. A comfort of kin that didn't desire the effort of conversation or overstimulated him with the touch of a hug.

Dick blinked lethargically, noticing that the man was due for a shave. Slade rarely ever allowed his facial hair to grow beyond his styled goatee. He kept his hair short and slicked and well-trimmed, but Dick could now spot the very first hints of growth along his sharp jaw.

I wonder if that's because he’s been all over the Middle East and America looking for me, Dick thought vacantly. Just another thing I’ll have to apologize for…even though it wasn't my fault. A sudden swell of emotion brought that thought back tenfold and with added heat, It’s not! It’s not my fault I was a stupid kid and throwing myself at Bruce’s feet all over again and fucking everything up again and-

Dick closer his eyes with a forcefulness that made his eyelids ache. He felt the familiar, safe, numb, detachment lay over him again; almost making him sigh out loud. He looked back up at Slade to find the man watching him still. The man hadn't blinked once, his eyepatch in place over the right side of his head. His steel grey eye brought a shiver to Dick’s shoulders as he remembered waking up on the grass. He’d been cold and shivering and aware of too many voices vying for his attention. He blacked out for a second because when he came to he was swallowing down the remnants of acid in his throat, black bile only inches from his face. He remembered looking up, desperate for something to take away his awareness, his consciousness. Someone to calm the frantic desperate feeling leeching his own power from him. He’d found Slade’s eye instantly.

Dick looked down and found Slade holding a small cardboard box. The lips of the box were partially opened and he found himself looking back up to Slade questioningly. Another mission already?

Did Slade think the answer to his absent-minded apprentice was to throw him head-first into another operation?

The thought of falling back into his regular non-stop routine sent a strange rush of emotions through Dick. It brought back memories of the last few days with a fury that had Dick clenching his fists in his lap. Normal routine, he scoffed mentally. I’d been normal and back with my family for a few days and it had never felt so wrong.

The one thing he’d been wanting for, striving for. He’d gotten it without knowing it felt like he’d been posing as someone so utterly...not him.

He’d been normal.

No yellow eyes, no freak hormones or naturally produced chemicals and drugs layering his bloodstream. He didn't have tattoos hiding beneath his hairline or mental brandings from a man who should've died generations ago. He’d been normal…he could still remember the way Jason accepted all his hugs and handholds, the way Damian tried to be so emotionally affluent for him, and the way Tim made him feel so reassured and safe.

And Bruce….Bruce had smiled. His dimples had been deep and the bags under his eyes less creased. He’d been so different from what Dick could remember. It almost felt like he was retelling Damian how he’d grown up- when it was just him and Bruce. He hadn't seen Bruce this open and this connected since before Tim joined their family and-

Slade stepped forward, cutting off his downward spiral of derisive thoughts. Dick swallowed heavily as the older man slowly closed the gap between them and slowly dropped to one knee. Dickw was curious about the box but he found that he couldn't pull his eyes away from Slade’s.

The white-haired man transferred the small box to his other hand before reaching out with his free hand. His warm skin was ungloved and calloused but Dick very nearly broke down as Slade laid a single heavy hand on top of his head. Dick clenched his jaw and his eyes, anything he could tense to enforce his willpower and ensure he didn't fall apart. Slade didn't speak or move. He merely left his hand on top of Dick’s dark, limp locks and let the young man soak in the touch in a way that was more heartbreaking and revitalizing than anything else Dick had felt in a long while. He inhaled shakily so Slade took the opportunity to offer him the box. Dick opened his eyes and looked down to see the man lower it into his lap. Dick accepted the box and opened it to find himself unable to breathe. Inside the box were items from his room. No... more than that. They were items from the manor. 

There was a small sugar spoon from a china tea set Alfred had let them use once before he’d banned them from touching his things and placed it above their reach. There was a small skinny glass frame with a microchip inside. Dick remembered it being one of the first presents he got Tim after he’d begun to show an interest in building computers and coding software. Underneath that was a rolled-up red piece of cloth that-no...Dick unrolled it to find that it was a long thing pair of Christmas socks. The kind he always got Damian each year. The younger boy would groan and complain but Dick knew they were never discarded. Stuffed to the side of the box was a folded-up piece of paper with creased edges. Dick shakily unfolded it to find that it was the first drawing Damian had ever gifted him. It was a sketch of his stuffed toy elephant; the one he’d kept with him through his parent’s murder, hidden under his temporary bed in Juvie, and smuggled into Wayne Manor when he had nothing but his shoes and a soft Romanian accent. Dick could still picture where he'd taped it on the wall in his bedroom, just beside his desk and window.

Beneath those, at the bottom of the box were a pair of ratty black fingerless gloves. Dick choked back a wet laugh and smile as he fingered the gloves softly. They were ripping where the fingertips appeared to have been snipped off with dull scissors. They were the first gift Jason had given him. He‘d scrounged up enough money for Dick’s birthday a handful of weeks after Bruce adopted him and given Dick some gloves for Gotham’s frigid winters. He later told Dick that he made them fingerless because that looked cooler and adults always took cool people more seriously.

Slade’s hand slid from the top of his head and dropped to his shoulder. He felt a firm, warm squeeze before the weight transferred to the side of his neck before the man stood and silently exited the room, closing the door on his way out.

Dick sat still and in shock. He held the box like it was made of fragile glass but he found himself even more mute than previously. He felt unable to do much of anything, but before he could gather a single coherent thought, the intimacy and the value of the box in his hands shattered what thin barriers he still had standing. Dick’s back caved against his will and he bent forward, leaning his face into the small cardboard box. At first, it was a strangled sob, then a wet one, and then quicker, and before he knew it Dick was sobbing uncontrollably. His lungs expanded to their limit and his throat hurt with the effort each sob brokered from him. He knew he was loud and his face was hot and his lips were pulled back and aching but Dick was unable to control himself. He had a fleeting realization that he might ruin some things in the box if he got them wet but that morbidly realistic thought only made him sob harder. 

Chapter 32

Notes:

Hey there!

Here's another ch.

Tim’s weary brow broke again for the fifth time in the last few minutes. He’d been at it all night but had hit a breakaway a handful of hours ago and knew he had to keep going or risk losing his momentum. In response to last month’s strange events, Tim realized that a part of their group's fault lay in their lack of resources and skills. To put it plainly, Slade out-skilled them in nearly every department. He was nearly as rich as Bruce Wayne, was just as physically capable, and mentally single-minded on the goals and tasks he felt earned his focus. He’d always been a legitimate threat and worthy placeholder for the Dark Knight's competition, and now he had Dick. Dick, who had surpassed all of Bruce’s Robins in age and skill save for one thing that Tim had excelled at early on. The computer.

Dick was excellent at hacking, software manipulation, coding sequences, and more. He’d been titled a child prodigy for the violently adaptive way his mind was able to construe and comprehend things in varying contexts. He excelled in the field of technology and loved being able to share it with Tim, even more so when he picked up on it quicker than any other Robin. Tim, already deprived of much of Bruce’s compassionate potential, clung to Dick’s teachings and attention. It didn't take long to cause a rift with Damian and Jason though, so Tim found himself utilizing the sophisticated tendencies of various technology formats to do independent study. To improve on his own and in private; it seemed to appease everyone because it shied away from the glare of jealousy from the brothers and only ever offered him a topic of conversation to bring up to Dick; earning greater grins and praise. It didn't take long for Tim to realize how much he craved the solidarity of aloneness. How much he was safe from prodding questions and judgmental comments. He didn't see a downside to his arrangement because he improved himself and his skills while avoiding the negative effects of living with people who weren't his biological family. That was before Tim recognized the feeling of isolation. When Dick butted heads with Bruce to the point of disappearing for a few days or when Jason was in a mood and avoided everyone, Alfred was often his only form of contact…and even then, the butler had an enormous manor of duties to attend to on the daily.

Tim’s typing slowed as that familiar sensation of aloneness started to darken and become heavier, reminding him of seclusion more accurately than merely being alone. He forced the feeling down and brought his mental focus back to his flying fingers, finding a comfortable resonance in the rhythmic clicks. 

He’d been working on drafting a new code sequence for a software that Lucious was working on for Wayne Ent. Bruce had mentioned that it was intended to become some sort of spyware for official government use but it had been slowed down and delayed severely after Congress was unable to decide if it should be used on enemy governments abroad or if it would be moral to use it on national citizens for surveillance. Safety, they had preached to their constituents and delegates. Bruce had moved on, sure that it would never make progress amidst the bureaucracy of state and government officials. Tim had decided to improve and update it both for practice and as a mental distraction. He’d succeeded in fact, and had made the process not only quicker, and with less coding for the sequence to read through before completion, but also more in-depth in how it targeted audio and video settings of whatever system was being targeted. It was an independent code but could work with or on software of most kinds.

Tim sighed and sat back. He’d played around with Bruce’s system and software enough but couldn't think of a proper way to actually test the program's targeting skill accurately. He was too familiar with the League’s technological defensive systems and anyone else would pose too great of a risk to practice on. Tim wouldn't even consider testing the monitoring software on the GPD because if anyone else besides Bab’s dad caught wind of the breach and investigated, it could easily be traced back to Wayne Ent. They, like any billion-dollar company, legally and digitally patterned everything, even if it wasn't launched and sold to the public. Still, with the right people, Lucious’ name would be all over the system and it wouldn't take much longer to connect him to Bruce. The legal issues that would arise alone dissuaded Tim from playing with the idea.

He sighed, trying to stall the feeling of defeat. He didn't want to leave the program in limbo but he needed something new, something he wasn't confident and sure of, to attack and test his new code on. Creating something as digitally and structurally sound as he needed it to be to run his test properly would take at least another 2 weeks or so and that was without sleep. 3 weeks if he focused on his health. He found his attention drifting to the empty glass case that had held the original Robin uniform. Alfred had taken it away after Dick’s departure, but apparently, it hadn't made its way back to its glass home yet.

Above, the fluttering and shuffling of leather and claws reached his ears. 

Dick, Tim sat up more suddenly and found himself reaching for his keyboard before he could consider his partially formulated plan. He pulled up Slade’s last message to Bruce and put it through his Nexus Codex, breaking it down until he found everything, even the ISP address. Knowing Slade, it was a backward goose trail but it was still a trail. Tim placed the ISP location ping into a separate search and traced his steps backward until he found the exact opposite ping across the country. 

San Francisco, CA. Tim stopped and felt success fill him like a physical pat on the shoulder. He glanced up without lifting his head, all he had were bats. 

His improved code was not only shorter, making it more efficient, but it was written in a format that wasn't easily legible. It was backwards . Anyone trying to stop or re-hack his attacking code would be stuped to find that their program or computer was unable to read the sequence. It would force them to get hands-on and try to stop the code manually, only to find that they wouldn't be able to reach the actual code either.  A majority of code read like books, straightforward and in the correct order, but once Tim’s victims realized the code was backward they would react with an improper solution. Attacking the code as if it was written from:

 

The cat leaps

 

To:

spael tac eht

 

When it was actually just:

leaps cat the

 

It was a method that would befuddle anyone twice over as they automatically assumed the worst, when the solution was actually quite clear and possible. The average person wouldn't know how to react or combat his code but Tim knew he wouldn't need to utilize something so complicated against that breed of mind. He’d need it against people under the command of the Light and confidential sectors of the government. The goal was to slow them down and send them on a wild goose chase of solutions, not stop them. People of that caliber could rarely be stopped. It was the genuineness of the computer that Tim liked; much less concrete than an actual close combat spar. 

He got to work and set his code onto the tail end of Slade’s. He pried open an operating system that hadn't been touched in a few months. Tim knew the negligence was the only reason why his luck was so instantaneous. Deathstroke’s innovative and hardware capabilities were vast and not something Tim would like to be pit against anytime soon. He reapplied his sequence and watched it run through Deathstroke’s like it was a gene coding sequence. The sequencer ended with a few blinks and Tim felt his shoulder slump with the premonition of failure. He was stunned when a new screen opened up to him, offering him access to video and audio titled Cbt Rm 5. Tim selected one at random and found himself watching a poorly lit room, a sparring room of some sort. Tim’s mind connected the video title to mean Combat Room 5. It looked like the cave when Tim had only 1 or 2, of the many available, lights on. This view offered him very little except the darkened view of cleaned mats. He clicked back and selected another titled Cbt Rm 4. This one had Tim pausing.

Part of the floor was covered in familiar mats while the other half held various gym equipment like weight racks and press machines. But in the center, beside a balance beam, was Dick. He was in the middle of a pushup, the movement appearing repetitive and fluid. His torso was bare but his legs were clad in a tight black material, stretchy, if Tim’s memory of Dick’s preference served correctly. Jason used to make fun of Dick for his form-fitting clothing but even as a child, Dick had grown up in skin-tight acrobatics costumes. He effortlessly transitioned from a lower pushup into a plank. His muscles were labored and bulging but he wasn't shaking with the proof of effort his actions obviously took. Tim, too scared to lose sight of Dick, didn't go back to check what the other video and audio files were. He stayed transfixed by Dick’s form as he smoothly slid into another stress position and held himself there for a few minutes. Despite the poor lighting, Tim could still see when sweat started to announce itself on Dick’s back and below him on the mats. For a bizarre moment, Tim was imagining himself there. As if his seated positioning was just beyond Dick and out of range of the camera he had hacked. Or maybe Dick was actually behind Tim on the mats in the Batcave and Tim had only hacked Bruce's cameras.

Eventually, Dick relaxed and allowed his body to collapse to the floor. He fell to his stomach with a grunt and only then did Tim see a sudden tremble shake his body, “Have you been here long?”

For a sudden, grave second Tim’s stomach twisted in worry, Does Dick know I'm watching?

Dick pushed himself up to his feet and glanced up with a quick, easy smile. Not at Tim though. Tim quickly snatched at the mouse and pulled up another file called Combat Room 2. This video offered more of a glimpse at machinery and workout equipment but no people. Tim clicked out and selected Combat Room 1 in time to see Dick walk into view from the right. In the top left corner of the video, Slade stood casually. He was leaning against the wall just in front of a set of double doors. But what was strangest wasn't his bare face but his clothing. Slade was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and blue jeans. A black belt was visible where his leaning posture pulled his hem up slightly. Slade stood straighter as Dick approached and dropped his crossed arms, revealing a gaudy silver watch on his right wrist. 

Slade smirked, twisting his facial hair slightly, “Not long” he replied, “I didn't want to interrupt you”

Tim internally balked at the simple, polite way in which Slade spoke to Dick. The easy comradery and familiarity that he had never heard from the man, even aimed at his own daughter.

Dick nodded, “I figured you would've if I was needed”

“You might be. Will is deadset on those daily medical exams he mentioned”

Dick stepped forward where a simple plastic bench was placed beside 4 skinny lockers. He reached for the folded towel on the bench and threw it over his shoulder. Dick rolled his eyes and pulled one end of the towel up to rub his sweaty mused hair. He muttered something that sounded like, “Boomer”

“He doesn't take no for an answer,” Dick said with an undertone of appreciation. All the brothers complained about Alfred in the same tone, as rarely as that happened.

Slade stepped forward and reached for Dick’s chin, “No” he agreed, “He doesn't, but neither do you”

Dick permitted the intimate contact, allowing Slade to direct his head to the right and left, as if looking for bruising. He stilled Dick’s chin and leveled it up at himself. Tim watched them watch each other silently and despised that he felt like he was intruding on something. After a moment, Slade dropped his hand but neither took a step back. After a moment of silence, Dick’s blue eyes focused on Slade’s, “Thank you” he broke the silence. There was a strange undertone to his voice that had Tim searching for more. More answers, more something. He knew there was more to that statement. It was said with sincerity. Slade nodded immediately, but his reaction wasn't rushed, merely genuine. Slade nodded and Dick smiled as if his needing to not finish his message of gratitude was something else to be grateful for. 

Tim experienced a strange sense of staggering awe as he watched the two men. Slade had always been large and foreboding. A tree of a man and even more of a threat. Without the Joker, he could have very well earned Batman’s sole attention eventually. The man seemed to resemble the same tactics and mentally of Batman at times, as if he was a darker reflection of Bruce without morals. But seeing Dick before him, offered a stranger sensation, an awareness that Slade and Batman had both compounded together to create a man that was teetering on the edge of .......something grand. Dick was so much taller, nearly as tall as Slade and Jason, even Bruce. His hair was just as dark as always and his features were sharper, as if every time Tim saw him, he’d been re-shaped and whittled down by another traumatic, private experience.

Dick had always been graceful and tender in a way that seemed to counter his fluid skills in a complimentary way. But now, Dick’s quiet composure seemed to offer a deadlier light; and not a nice one. Slade spoke, “I did have something I wanted you to oversee if you were done here” 

Dick’s lips twitched down, “Will did send you to come to check on me, didn't he? I'm fine ” 

Slade’s frigid demeanor was nowhere to be found as he looked back at Dick with amusement, “He might've if you spent another hour in here, but no…not this time. Although, I know I don't have to remind you of the dangers that surround overworking yourself, again”

Dick averted his eyes in acknowledgment, “I guess so” he responded, answering Slade’s question, not addressing his point.

Slade’s eyes brow rose, “You think?”

Dick shrugged, “I was going to spend some time on the bars, maybe the swing…” he trailed off.

“Too much on your mind, Pretty Bird?”

Dick didn't even catch the intimate monicker and Tim found himself suddenly desperate to know what else the mercenary called his brother.

“Yea,” he said absently, looking behind himself, to somewhere Tim couldn't see. Slade meandered past Dick to another part of the room that Tim couldn't see. Dick watched him go with a newly lighthearted look. He followed Slade off-camera and Tim quickly switched to the last angle he hadn't viewed yet. Combat Room 3 surprised him as it was filled with acrobatic equipment. Cutting through the room was a balance beam, directly beneath still rings. He almost looked behind himself to see the rings that Bruce had installed for Dick when they were children. 

He watched the feed, determined not to consciously admit what it meant for Dick to have this amount of equipment at Slade’s base as well. Slade was leaning back against the balance beam with his ankles crossed. Behind him, Tim spotted a pommel horse, and next to that was a springboard and a tumbling mat. Dick heaved himself up on the balance beam with the grace of a seasoned gymnast. His triceps making themselves known beneath his slicked skin, “You’re gonna watch?” Dick asked playfully. Slade crossed his arms again and stayed leaned back against the furthest edge of the balance beam, like he was familiar with where the safest and closest positioning was.

Dick quickly directed his attention to the rings above his head but the upward tilt to his lips and chin wasn't hard to catch sight of. He reached up and swung his body to the rings so he was a foot or two away from the balance beam. He swung from the rings with a clean posture until his body fell completely still and was void of momentum. He clenched his jaw and shifted to heft himself upward purely off the strength of his biceps and triceps, when Slade stopped him, “Wait”

Dick halted immediately, reacting just as Batman had trained each of his Robins. He didn't question it but gazed after the man as he walked backward and out of viewpoint. Tim followed him by clicking in and out of camera angles until he found him at camera 1 by the doors. Slade was bent over a small side table that held a laptop. He brought the laptop to life and started typing something that Tim couldn't make out. Tim attempted to access the different viewing angles to see Slade’s back and the computer screen at once, but he was unable; as if the laptop had been angled just so. Eventually, Dick called out in question again but Slade merely lifted his gaze upward and locked eyes with Tim through the camera angled in the corner of the ceiling, “Just updating my software”

Dick’s voice rang back in dumbfounded confusion; the statement too vague and bewildering for him, but Tim didn't hear the killer’s answer as his connection was cut off and he was shoved out. He stared at the black monitor, too stunned to react at first. He’d been played. Slade had known the minute he was within his digital firewall and had played him, letting Dick speak and act freely. Did Slade know who had been watching? Or was the fact that he knew he had an audience to his intimacy enough of an achievement for him? Did Deathstroke just gloat?

He sat there, wondering if there would be any repercussions for hacking Deathstroke's system, but when none came after an hour or so, Tim still had no idea what to do.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Queen Bee dismissed the man to her right by offering a demure wave. Her hands appeared even more elegant and slender when the light glinted off her claw-like nails. The man placed the remainder of the wine on the glass side table and departed with a quiet dip of his head. Dr. Amanik was nearly finished reviewing a new set of reports from their staffed lab technicians across from her. Queen Bee allowed the man his time, although she wouldn’t dare describe it as waiting on him. The doctor nodded and sniffed absentmindedly. His South Asian skin tone glinted a burnt olive shade beneath the overhead lights. Queen Bee looked on in disdain but held her tongue. The man was sweaty and allowed his gaze to linger on too many things and people that were none of his concern. But still, she had been informed that he was one of the best, most ethically…. Fluid men in his field. 

The Demon Head’s daughter was working on something that was taking more and more obvious effort to conceal. She was often absent from meetings and was not present at training with Wilson and his pet as frequently. It wasn’t like Talia to take a back seat so Queen Bee knew something much grander had to have captured her attention. Queen Bee found herself taking somewhat of a liking to the woman, seeing as so few non-male figures utilized themselves and their surroundings to their fullest potential. It truly was a shame she wasn't in a position to manipulate her surroundings in a world like the Amazonians had. When she did come across women who weren't mentally tied down by the patriarchy they were born instantly indebted to, it was a pleasure to see that person in action, made all the more satisfactory when they didn't have a cock swinging between their legs.

Speaking of which, Talia Al Ghul made a quiet entrance to the right of the room. Her long black hair gleamed under the lights above them as her hips encouraged her drapings to sway around her feet. She was dressed in a kimono-styled shirt that was long enough to be considered a dress. The cloth split at her thighs and hung in low separate pieces between her legs. The fabric was thick and a mixture of browns and reds, taking notice of Arabic culture. She entered in a way that was both demeaning and dismissive, offering each person just enough attention to convey her point. She placed herself before Dr. Amanik and calmly crossed her arms, “Well? Doctor?” 

He glanced up before flicking his gaze back down to his notes. He pulled out a notebook that was balanced on his right knee and flipped it open to the first page, “I believe we’re ready for field tests” he confirmed.

“You are sure of this?"

Dr. Amanik nodded, “These levels here” he passed her his notebook and pointed to a diagram on the right page, “Indicate nearly perfect cortisol levels, and here” he tapped the other page, drawing her cat-like attention, “Is just enough brain wave activity to perform well enough outside of his confinement”

Talia hummed as she gazed at the doctor’s notes. Queen Bee idly wondered if she had any idea what she was reading.

“Is there any risk?’ she pressed.

Dr. Amanik nodded and adjusted his collar, “There is” he amended, “But that will always be the case”

Talia eyes him dangerously over the lip of the notebook, “WIlliam assured us you were the one man who could ensure results” she said lowly.

Dr. Amanik nodded quickly, “Well yes,” he said, “But please keep in mind that the work I did for Cobb is far different from here. That was creation, expansion. This is duplication at such a specific level, it becomes…tricky”

“Tricky?” she clicked her tongue.

Dr. Amanik gulped “But that’s not to say this won't go well. Just as there were risks during the evolution project, there will be risks now. We can proceed forward with the current vitals provided and risk it being too early or we can maintain him in status a little while longer” he held up his palms, “But I would like to caution against that since his vitals are not functioning in conjunction with the rest of him, there is a noticeable risk that his body will begin to deteriorate if left for much longer”

Talia hummed, slightly more appeased. She allowed her dark slanted eyes to scan the notebook once more before snapping it closed with one hand. She handed it back to the doctor, “I will allow you to take the lead on this, doctor” she replied, “But take caution that any consequences I don’t deem preferable will fall on your head”

He nodded and accepted the book with a shaky exhale, “I understand” he replied, “But, may I ask…Miss Al Ghul”, he licked his upper lip clean of sweat, “The originator lives, doesn't he? As long as he stays safe I can always obtain fresh blood and plasma samples to begin again-”

“There will be no beginning again” she warned, “You were offered this opportunity to prove yourself after the success shown with the Court of Owls, at this time in particular my father wishes to proceed with this subject to further the current goals of the Light. What he does not wish” she emphasized, “Is to wait around while you struggle with your beakers and plasma. The Demon Head offers few redeeming chances to anyone"

Dr. Amanik’s jaw twinged but he nodded and dipped his head, glancing up after a few moments of silence. She watched him with a curled upper lip before turning to Queen Bee. Without preamble, “Where is the rat?”

Queen Bee looked past her to the far wall where Klarion stood still as a statue. He looked like he desired to ability to mold his spine into the rock wall and disappear. Talia offered him a second of attention before tilting her head back to Queen Bee, “He can handle the transfer of energy?”

Queen Bee nodded, “I have ensured he has stocked up on aura quite well. We’ve recently acquired a new-fangled well of power, if you would. He can handle most any kind of energy as long as he does not retain an overabundance within his body”

Talia nodded with an unreadable expression, “I've heard as much” 

She turned sharply on Klarion who stood against the wall, “I'm well aware of your recent blunders and the attention you’ve gained from Deathstroke. Do well here and I will see to offer you some reprieve when he comes calling for your head”

Queen Bee scoffed, “It’s been nearly a month” she sneered, “That man is nothing but show”

Talia grinned a cruel smile, “He would love to hear that you underestimate him so” her smile fell, “My father does not employ men who are unable to follow through. That man is a threat to you and your resources, Queen Bee. Besides, I suspect the mercenary is taking the time to coddle his circus brat in the privacy of their North American base. He knows he can kill the welp, he has to incentive to rush”

Klarion squeaked from where he had flattened himself to the wall. Talia grinned sprucely, “Like I said” she cooed, “Do well, boy, and you might find me at your defense when the time comes”

Klarion glanced at Queen Bee and nodded, “It-It’s just the energy, right?’ he inquired, “I don't actually need to touch it?” He flicked his fingers sharply like he disengaged invisible droplets from his fingertips.

Talia narrowed her eyes, “Someone like you would never be offered the opportunity to touch the pit” she hissed, “You’ll be transferring a minimal amount of energy from the pool’s excess, nothing more”

Klarion glanced at Queen Bee for approval. Talia smirked, “You’ve got him well-trained” she commented. Queen Bee narrowed her eyes, unwilling to accept the superficial compliment.

“And you are convinced that magically enhancing the boy’s vitals with essence from the Lazarus Pit will really ensure his…survival?”

Talia briefly allowed her gaze to linger on the other woman, “It is a weapon with a purpose. Like any other weapon, modifications to amplify its purpose is merely common sense”

Queen Bee smirked, feeling as though she had cornered the other woman into defending herself.

 “Come” Talia ordered sharply. She turned on her heel and led the quaking man down the west-east tunnel. Queen Bee watched them go, deciding to punish Klarion further by not accompanying them. Besides, she had duties to attend to and an appearance to ready herself for. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Right this way, Sir”

The attendant bowed deeply before extending a pilot arm out to the right, “Mr. Luthor is waiting in the VIP suite”

The man she spoke to offered her barely a passing glance before proceeding onward. His dismissive auror complimented his tight suit and waxy, slicked hair in a way that had most self-respecting people looking away. He grumbled and noisily allowed his cane to lead the way, “I heard Johnson’s already here” he said.

The guide dipped her hair, her tight low burn bobbing, “Indeed, Sir. You are the final arrival of the day”

“What of it?” he snapped.

“My apologies” she dipped her head. Not once did her tone reflect an intonation or inflection. On the 52nd floor of the private building, the pair proceeded down the hallway until they came to a set of double doors. She opened the way for the older man and extended her well-manicured hand once again. 

“Lex” the man grumbled in a way that suddenly sounded much more chumy and accommodating, “What’s with all the guards and hoo-ha?” he demanded in a grouchy sort of manner.

Luthor turned in his seat, his pristine white suit crinkling slightly. He looked beyond the man and nodded, “Thank you, Mercy. That will be all”

He looked back at the newcomer, “Think nothing of it, George. This is still a private meeting” he gestured to the large table and its 7 inhabitants, “Security is merely precautionary for men of our caliber. And there are a few other floors that I’ve allowed some associates to hold discussions in”

George grumbled as he limped over to a free seat. He looked around, spotting a straight-backed, tall dark-skinned woman and a handful of business associates he’d had dealings with in the past, “So?” he demanded, leaning forward, “What’s this big opportunity? Huh?”

Another man across the table nodded. His voice held hints of Australia, “I’m eager to know as well. Luthor didn't want to say anything before we were all here so it’s either a relatively new scoop on the market or something he wants us to invest in…again”

Lex smiled warmly, “Gentlemen, please. This isn't some petty insider trading convention-”

“So you want our money, eh?” a short stout man egged with a coy smile.

Luthor’s smile tilted down before it fixed itself, “Please, Mathew. Don't insult me. We all know I have plenty of funds. I’m merely here to extend a warm welcome to you gentlemen in case you wished to proceed forward on the ground floor on a new opportunity with me”

“You’re investing?” George inquired, “That’s a first” he spat playfully.

Luthor nodded and smirked, “Do you remember the keynote conference that advertised a new security monitoring chip in England?”

“Who doesn't” Mathew replied shortly, “The De Longes were good people. Old money, not that new money quick buck bullshit”

Luthor nodded, “Yes, indeed. The terrorist attack was a tragedy. Truly” he made eye contact with the dark-skinned woman briefly. Her full lips were partially hidden behind her folded hands as she leaned forward on her elbows, watching the table, “Well, I’m here to tell you that this work and investment did not go to waste and it’s ready to be introduced to the public. I am welcoming you to stake an early claim in their work before the government and civilian corporations dirty the product”

“Why are you so invested in this? You want it to succeed?” A man at the end of the table pushed.

Luthor nodded, “I'm a businessman at heart Lorenzo, and in order for myself to succeed, the products and services I invest in need to succeed. This is truly a product that will affect every facet of life for the public. Do not misunderstand this to be some tanking stock, and my effort at recovery before I pull out. I’m in the for long haul, gentlemen” Luthor lowered his chin.

The table was silent for a few moments, “It’s a monitoring chip?” one man clarified, “Why are you so sure this won't be snatched up by the feds the moment it's public?”

Luthor rolled his shoulders, “That will limit this chip's effectiveness entirely. I aim to privatize this chip and the technology it will support to make its consequences to the public eye all the more significant and enticing”

A few men nodded, but one man leaned forward. He sat beside Lorenzo but held a look that seemed to realize the African woman beside Luthor wasn’t some lush-eyed note taker, “Give me some realistic details here, Lex. What are your intentions for this when its funding gets underway?”

Luthor smiled proudly and nodded, “I’ve already had packets and more than enough information prepared for you to review after this meeting, but what I will tell you is that this is the first step towards privatizing the government sector of security” Luthor’s voice dropped, “Imagine being able to have a front row seat to the new era of AI and technology in adaptive security software. The kind that can be set free and allowed to teach itself, learn about its surroundings, and still report back to you. The kind that’s allowed just enough free reign to push past any bureaucratic barriers, because the public prioritizes their safety above knowledge. Even when they do start demanding the finer details, it will either be too late, or well above their scope of knowledge to see the severity. The significance”

The man’s eyes gleamed back at Luthor as he too envisioned being part of this transitionary era. For men of their standing and caliber, money meant power and power was money.

_____

 

Dick fixed the glove on his right hand, flexing his fingers to force a sense of comfortability. The material was too new, too abrasive, and obviously made by a company that didn't keep Dick’s main profession in mind. The last time he’d complained about covert work forcing him into clothing that rubbed his skin raw, he’d made Wintergreen laugh. The old man had pinched his cheek as he complained about a pair of tight jeans Slade had shoved him into, “My boy, please never tire of that quick wit. You are so much like Slade in his youth”

Dick narrowed his eyes at Slade over the older man’s shoulder, “I wasn't joking” he muttered. Wintergreen laughed again, “Oh, I know, but it’s such a joy to be reminded of what a brat he was”

Slade had stepped in and quickly put an end to Wintergreen’s reminiscing but that was the last time he shared his thoughts on costumes or uniforms; even though he found it unfair that the few times Slade’s joined him on undercover work, he only ever seemed to need to replicate that of men in respectable fields. The type of work that would require a flashy watch and a new suit, maybe a gruff accent if things really called for it.

He had a slight headache pounding behind his right temple and eye, but he chalked it up to having to dish out orders and oversee men who quite clearly lacked more brain cells than red blood cells in their bodies. Luthor’s men. Dick didn't have to pester Slade to know that the amount of wealth that the top floor of the penthouse they were in was linked to the chips that the De Longes were attempting to gather investors for. It was clear Luthor was attempting to pick up their social work and proceed on with a level of comfort that only the top 4% of well-lived people held with each other. Slade had been hired as security management for the day and Dick had come along with him because of it but Dick suspected he was here for another reason. One that was clear he would either be shown or be given the opportunity to pull from Slade later on. He also had an inkling that Queen Bee had supported Slade’s hiring for the job because it kept them away from Klarion for a little while longer.

Slade had brought Dick back to the Shadow's base since the incident but Dick wasn't surprised and wasn't about to complain. He was still suffering from the influx and resurgence of electrum in his body, so that, coupled with nightmares and daytime hallucinations of something only a 14-year-old version of him would think to see made him quite glad to have the safety and security of their home base. Wintergreen had gone a long way to make his adjustment feel more at ease and natural as well, turning up the TV louder than necessary, and always having the kitchen radio on. It kept the thoughts and lingering visions at bay more and more.

He’d parted from Slade an hour ago and was doing his rounds again, checking that the men he’d stationed at every 3rd portion of the wrap-around hallway were where they were supposed to be. He wasn’t so daft and naive as to think that these men would take the security of billion-dollar old men seriously. He passed by another large window, spanning at least 6 feet long, and reaching from the ceiling to floor. In front of it stood a complimentary ashtray and Dick found his mind wandering to the few times Slade had introduced him to tolerances. The very first one was when Slade found him trying to shoot up again. The older man had forced Dick to burn the rubber strap and shatter the needle before forcing a pack of cigarettes into his hand, “This will inhibit you less and still take the edge off. Won’t kill your lungs like the rest of society” Slade had looked at Dick’s hesitant expression and brought a heavy hand to the crown of his head, “If this doesn't stabilize you long enough to get a grip, we can try cigars or something stronger”

Dick tried not to rely on dependencies too frequently but he saw the clarity and sense in Slade’s actions. Relying on something that offered situational clarity and lacked long-term addiction and instability. Dick knew there was a chance he could become addicted to the lack of headaches and whispers, to the feeling of being ….okay. But Slade had assured him that level of dependency was one that no one could truly escape. 

“It’s not an action that creates addiction, it's someone's character” Slade assured him, “It’s something for weak men, something for people who need repetition. Not us”, that was all he said on it but it still made Dick feel better about submitting to the infrequent reliances. He pushed the thought aside as he walked past the glass table and empty ashtray, “Hey Dickie”

Dick stilled, keeping his head pointed forward. A coy smile curled his lip. Just around the corner, where there should've been a sentry standing guard, was Jason. A different man, the intended man, had been present on his 4th go-around of the top floor about 40 minutes ago. Dick didn't allow it to show, but he should've known something was amiss the second he rounded the corner, not 2 or 3 seconds after. But Jason beat him to it. He allowed his shoulders to remain relaxed and down before tilting his head to the right, “Hey Jay” Jason was heads taller than everyone else, always standing out in a crowd, and that wasn't taking into account his acidic green eyes and skunk hair. Speaking of which, his eyes spotted Jason’s unanimously dark hair, realizing Jason was definitely working covertly. He’d died his hair so as to not stand out, but that intention could've easily been spotted from the fact that Jason wore the exact same suit that all the other sentries and guards wore as well. Dick and Slade were the only exceptions, intending to tell them and their authority apart.

He dragged his eyes up and down Jason’s towering form, knowing that while his younger brother would never allow it to show, being eaten up by the eyes in such a way gravely bothered him, “If you’re here for the meeting, I’m afraid you’re late and” he looked around their barren hallway, “In the wrong place”

Jason smirked and kicked off from where he’d been leaning back against it, “Yeah, sure, whatever” he dismissed. He proceeded toward Dick in such a casual, sure manner that Dick found himself suddenly wary. He tensed, intending to be cautious, but something Jason saw in his face stopped him. The bravado melted gorm his lips and eyes and he sighed, “I’m not gonna pull anything” he assured slowly. He held up his hands, “I’m not even armed”

Dick scoffed, willing himself to relax, to hide whatever predatory reflex Jason had spotted, “We all know you don't need a gun to be armed”

Jason's eyes lightened and he pointed a dainty hand at Dick, “Gosh, Dickie. You’re such a flatterer” 

Dick stared at his gloved fingers; unimpressed. Jason’s expression fell flat and he dropped his hand, “Fine, but seriously. Are you good?”

Dick raised a brow and crossed his arms. He turned to face his younger brother fully, “What? You mean after I was cursed into being 13 years old and ran back to Bruce?”

Jason didn't respond.

“I'm good,” Dick said flatly.

Jason rolled his eyes and threw up his hands, “Fine! Disregard my brotherly affections”

That managed a smile from Dick, despite his efforts, “We both know that's the last priority on your list-if any Jay” he glanced down the hallway sharply before looking back to Jason, “Why are you stalling me? Are you guys infiltrating? Or attacking?”

Jason dropped his arms and his expression smoothed out, “I'm surprised you weren't expecting us”

Dick sighed and rubbed his temple, “Why would we be expecting you?” Luthor and Bruce don't even do business, really. This is a private investor's conference”

Jason smirked and crossed his arms, “Yeah, but you know who has contact with Luthor and Bruce?”

Dick narrowed his eyes.

“Juarez”

Dick watched Jason, “Ollie’s Board”

Jason nodded, “Ollie’s Board of Trustees”

“He came?” Dick asked.

Jason’s expression darkened, “He was invited. Apparently, Ollie doesn't know how to not hire sleazeballs”

Dick scoffed, “Neither does Bruce”

Jason smirked, “Yeah, I still hate half his board too”

Dick leaned more on one hip, “Tim doesn't have them whipped into shape yet?”

Jason winced as if on behalf of the board, “No, they do freak the fuck out when they see Tim or Bruce coming, especially O'Neill. One time half the board called out sick when they found out both would be attending their quarterly fiscal meeting”

Dick chuckled. He brought up his hand and pulled off one glove before rubbing his forehead again. Jason nodded toward Dick’s actions, “Headache? Is it the electrum?”

Dick dropped his hand and scowled before he reigned in his expressions, “Let's not beat around the bush Littlewing”

Jason reflectived his drop of polite mannerisms with an equally hard look, “Look, we both know I can delay you to the point of failing to show up as backup if I engage long enough”

Dick nodded expectantly, “And? Only one of us can afford to take a bullet to the chest, Jaybird”

Jason glared, “I swear to god, Dick. Just drop the act already. We all know you aren't actually gonna hurt us. It’s all some big fucking woe-is-me act about saving us or some shit-”

“Jay” Dick warned.

“What? Don't wanna talk it out? Cuz you sure seemed happy enough to when you came crying back to Bruce, begging for help against the big bad mercenary who kidnapped you”

Dick threw up his hands, “What do you want from me? You want a fucking apology that you had to be an older brother for like 3 freaking days? You want me to feel bad that you had to use one less cuss word a day…for 3 days? ”

Jason’s jaw nearly dropped, “Are you fucking kidding me?” he spat, “I ask you how you’re doing and you come at me with that ?”

“What?” Dick cocked his jaw, “Don't like it when people take a page out of your own book? Saying what we’re all thinking as soon as the thought comes to mind?”

Jason clenched his jaw, “We fucking helped you, you asshole. Not even a thank you?”

Dick stepped forward aggressively, “Why would I thank you? Slade would have taken care of me either way, and if not, then” Dick spread his arms wide, “Maybe that would've been one of the few ways I could die. Would've solved a lot of problems” Dick brushed his hands together like he was ridding them of invisible dust.

Jason stepped forward, matching Dick, “Oh I bet that pervert takes care of you” he sneered.

Dick’s face fell slack for a breath before he charged forward the remaining few steps and found himself in Jason’s space. He shoved at his brother with just enough force to itch at the desire inside him, the one urging and craving for more violence, more brutish behavior. Jason’s back hit the wall but he didn't take it easily, shoving back with as much might. 

“Just admit it, Dick. You’ve cornered yourself and boxed everyone, except that murdering perv, out of your life. You don't even know how to fucking say yes to our help anymore”

Dick barred his teeth, “You don't wanna help me. You wanna stop me!”

“At this point, I don't give a rat’s ass if you’re helped or not. You need to be stopped! You’re killing everything, Dick!”

That stopped Dick where he was, his fists clenched in Jason’s suit jacket.

“You’re killing your relationships, and yourself. Are you even gonna be a brother in another year? Or just some guy who used to be named Richard?” Jason spat.

Dick clenched his jacket tighter, nails digging into his palm from between the fabric, “You don't get it” 

Jason leaned in, “I don't” he agreed lowly, “But that’s your fault! You just keep running from us and your own problems-which make more problems!”

Dick went to speak but Jason cut him off, “Hell, look at me! I’m the problem child, Dick! I hate Bruce, and everyone else hates me” he shoved at Dick, “So how” he shoved again, “The fuck" Shove, "Did I become the one they all rely on?!”

Dick’s brows rose before a wary chuckle crept out, “Welcome to being the big brother in a dysfunctional household, Jaybird”

Jason growled, “It’s not fuckin’ funny”

Dick stopped laughing abruptly, “No” he agreed, “It's not…It’s never been. It wasn't when you stole my mother's name and I was expected to support you. It wasn't when Bruce let you die on patrol but my vengeance got me shunned while your violence got you pitty” Dick leaned it, “It’s never fair and it's never funny, Jason. Responsibility never is, and that's synonymous with oldest brother. Hell,” he tossed his head to the side, “I’m just glad I’m not a girl. That oldest daughter syndrome would've had me throwing myself off a cliff before High School”

“I didn't ask for all this” Jason argued, “You left and threw this burden on me. Bruce looks at me and I just know he's fucking desperate to see you. Some big goofy asshole ready to roll over and eat shit for the rest of us”

Dick laughed at that, genuinely letting loose a series of rough giggles. The corners of his eyes crinkled, “You- ” he caught his breath, "You think I wanted this? That I asked for it? I was an only kid in a traveling circus from Europe you idiot” he growled. He shook Jason for good measure. 

“So what?” Jason leaned forward, bumping for foreheads with Dick, “I should suffer too? You’d be the first one I’d bet would say 2 wrongs do make a right”

Dick smiled, “That’s exactly right Little Wing. They don't. But life's not always fair and 2 wrongs happen all the time”

Jason sputtered. Angry and confused. Dick’s dissonance made him want to fight fire with fire but Dick’s agreements with him made his head spin and common sense fall the wayside. Dick’s head tilted slightly and his eyes softened, becoming slightly lidded, “Oh, Jay” he murmured softly, “I know it’s been hard. I can only imagine what it's like, but I know you’ve been a good older brother. Supporting Bruce as much as you can.... being a pillar for Timmy and Dami. I know you guys are convinced that I'm either confused and angry or totally trying to do the right thing in the wrong way. Sometimes I wonder that myself, but I think it's just me really missing you guys”

Jason threw up his shoulders in the maximum expression of frustration, “Then. Come. Home” he growled.

Dick’s eyes glinted with a playful light. Dick seemed to be able to jump from emotion to emotion, no matter how polarizing, and he found himself wondering if it was a side effect of living with Wilson, the electrum, or if it was something Jason had always overlooked in his brother. 

“No”, Dick said simply. The lightness left his expression immediately and his chin dipped down slightly, “But I am sorry, Jay. I shouldn’t have done that”

Jason was a hair’s breath away from punching Dick, “If you’re about to go on another therapy rant and act like a martyr no one asked for-”

“No, I mean right now”

Jason halted, unsure.

Dick smiled at himself, “Sorry” he said again, “I mean, I shouldn’t have implied that any of you guys were a burden. Even Bruce. In the end, I wouldn't trade you for anything. You're my family, not a burden”

As rapidly as Dick’s emotions seemed to fluctuate, Jason found a startling wetness stabbing at the backs and corners of his eyes. He blinked in a startled fashion, unprepared for where this conversation was headed. He didn't dare acknowledge how gratifying it was to hear that Dick didn't regret any of them...even now.

“Life deals us certain cards” Dick shrugged, “If being an older brother is the requirement to have you 4 in my life, then I really shouldn't be complaining. Especially because I've been a really bad big brother lately”

“You were so fucking mad at us when you ditched us for that perv. What happened? You start taking yoga classes?”

Dick’s brow broke with a surprising quickness, “What? I can't change my mind? Yea, I was pissed at you, still are-mostly Bruc really-but that's not the point. I can't just drop what I've been doing, even when I miss you” 

Jason stared at him, lost for words, but that only seemed to inspire a strange pitying smile on Dick’s face, erasing the previous anger quite well. Jason noticed that Dick’s eyes were blue as well. A murky blue that seemed darker than natural, but blue all the same, causing Jason to regard Dick more intimately.

He cleared his throat, “You better not let the Demon Brat hear you say that. He’ll be all over your ass for knowing you want to come home….and just….aren't”

Dick nodded, his dark locks shifting atop his head, “I know” he replied, “I’ll have a lot to answer for when this is over, but since I’m one of the few people who can walk out of almost anything now, it’s just more reason for me to handle this and for you guys to sit it out. Don’t worry Jay” Dick stepped closer again, “I’ll always be your brother, but I promise, soon, I can be a much better one. I won’t leave, not really, and not forever”

Dick lurched forward, but with Jason’s back flush against the building wall, he had nowhere to go. He tensed, preparing for a hit when a strange thud-like noise reached his ears. He lowered his shoulders from where he had braced for assault when he saw Dick taking a step back. Jason watched him, frozen as he wondered what Dick had done, What the hell kind of a hug was that?

Dick offered him a short salute before he sped off down the hallway. Jason cursed and made to follow him but found himself jerking back. His momentum was so great, only to be cut short that he found his feet slipping out from under him, "Fuck!"

He steadied himself and looked down, finding nothing amiss. He groped around his chest and face until his fingers hit something dull and hard right next to his ear. Jason cursed as he realized he’d entirely missed any weapons in Dick’s hand. He reached up, only to feel the same object hit his other hand. Bewildered he felt around, realizing it was the handle of something: a knife, a short sword…

He tried yanking it and realized, when it didn't budge, that the blade must be long enough to have gone through the support beams in the wall. He tried jerking the weapon out, but the angle behind his head in which it was positioned required a strange amount of grip strength and tricep stamina. Who the fuck just works triceps?

Jason heaved a mighty breath through his nose, cursing himself for not punching Dick. He started to jerk forward over and over again, hearing his suit jacket and collar tear more with every attempt.

___________________________________

 

Tim placed a finger to his ear, hovering over the comm as he heard Jason curse, “Dick is on to us” he informed Bruce under his breath. Bruce nodded. After Ollie had given them the heads up that one of his more morally decrepit board members was speaking to Luthor about a secretive conference, Bruce had elected they should go and confirm if Luthor was making another step forward for the Light. 

Tim and Bruce had elected to show up as Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake, their suits fresh and pressed as they caused a scene for entry in the lobby. Eyes were drawn to them, wondering why such a wealthy-looking man and his son were being denied entrance. Everyone had a role to play, but unfortunately, Damian was the only one who couldn't pass off something covert in person, still too young and lithe to play the part of security with Jason. Bruce had found it necessary to have all his sons accompany him. He was stuck overseeing recon and communications behind th scenes, but not a minute went by without his disgruntlement being made known.

“Sir, for the final time. I must inform you that you cannot access the top floors. The building has been bought out for a private event-”

“Yes” Bruce snidely interrupted, “And I should be up there attending that event with my son-”

Just then another man entered their conversation, stepping up with an air of authority, to end whatever disagreement had earned a few looks and glances.

He tossed his partner a casual and confident glance, “Sir, what…” his words dried up as he looked at Bruce Wayne. The man was rarely ever seen without a grin or smirk, maybe an arm over an unnamed woman’s shoulder, but at this moment his eyes were narrowed and his lips thinned.

“Br-uh Mr. Wayne, I’m so terribly sorry. Are you here for the event with Mr. Luthor?”

Tim threw up his hands, “We’ve been saying that for the past 10 minutes!”

The man looked at Tm, most likely assuming he was one of the more socially acceptable sons if he was attending a business conference with the head of Wayne Ent.

“I’m so sorry, sir. Please proceed up and if there are any issues with the delay we’ve caused, we will be sure to accommodate you however we can” The man dipped his head politely, nearly verging on a bow. Bruce sniffed in a way that was entirely reflective of Brucie and not Batman. Without a word, he walked past the two into the glossed hallway that led to a set of elevators. Tim refrained from smirking as he listened to the head security guard rebuking his partner for not recognizing Bruce Wayne, “You don't even check the guest list, idiot. Those fuckers are at the top of the food chain. They can get you fired without even worrying about a freaking lawsuit”

Tim stepped into the elevator with Bruce and tapped his communicator, “So?” he asked.

Damian sighed, “Todd has once again screwed up the mission”

“I did not, you fuckin’ littl-”

“Hood” Bruce barked. Both boys fell silent but Jason’s emitted a slight staticy sound as he grumbled his complaint, “Dick knows we're here but doesn't know why or where. He stuck me to a wall and ran off”

Tim sighed, “Great”

Bruce spared him a glance, noticing Tim’s collar was pulled more to one side, “We’ll handle it. Luthor can only cause so many issues when we’re in front of his civilian investors” he reached out to fix Tim’s collar without asking.

Tim glanced at the fingers on his throat before looking to the elevator doors, “We just need to see what they’re doing and then we’ll get out. We know he can’t do anything right away. But if Dick is there then Wilson will be too” 

Bruce nodded, “I’ll handle him if he intervenes, but this is about recon. Make them believe we’re here to be a nuisance and gather as much info and intel as we can without actually giving them evidence that anything is missing”

“Father, with all due respect. Your social persona is a menace”

Jason choked on a laugh over their comms line but Bruce’s face didn't twitch an inch, “Find Dick and keep him occupied. We’re almost to the top floor and are going to halt the meeting”

Tim nodded as Bruce relayed their plan. Tim was supposed to walk around and snoop as best he could but if he got caught, his excuse would be just as bratty and stuck up as Bruce Wayne’s son would be expected to be. The worst they hoped to happen was being manhandled back to his dad with everyone else. The best case would be Tim happening upon the chips or something worse. Bruce and Damian discussed monitoring logistics as they watched the glass screen in the elevator climb from G to 55 steadily. The doors opened with a soft ding and Bruce nodded to Tim, allowing him free reign as they parted. Tim fingered his collapsed bostaff, reassuring himself of where it lay against his ribs, beneath his suit coat.

Tim watched Bruce make his way down the hallway to the left just as he heard a different, clumsier set of footsteps to his right. He spotted a single door beside the elevator and he threw himself inside, hoping it was a janitorial closet. He held his breath as he heard 2 men jog by, “The boss said to meet him on the top floor, and call the others”

An out of breath scoff followed, “What? The brat with Wilson?”

The first man grunted something and then said, “Don't let Deathstroke hear you say that. Besides, that kid’s bigger than half of us and he’s st…”

The men’s voices faded away along with their footsteps. Tim frowned, hesitant to step out if Dick was nearby and calling reinforcements to him, but more than aware of their timed deadline. I knew he had to find something before he was discovered and dragged back to Bruce like an errant lost brat. He waited another breath and then opened the door when he heard nothing. He glanced around and then behind him, surprised to find that he had indeed thrown himself into a barely stocked janitor's closet. He made his way down to the right, trying every door handle he came across. Most opened up to empty conference rooms or small office cubicle-like spaces and Tim was starting to wonder if he was wrong in his assumption of Luthor and his possible motives.

He didn't have to doubt long because he came across a single-doored women’s bathroom that had Tim slowing down in curiosity. The sign looked as normal as ever but the plaque on the door, indicating it was a female-only bathroom, looked like the kind of plague that gets slid onto a door. One that would indicate a janitor's closet or a titled conference room. Tim knew he hadn't spent forever in the corporate world but he knew enough to know that bathrooms at corporate spaces usually stayed the same, even when companies went bankrupt and moved out of their office space. There was no need for a bathroom plaque, it was always printed on the door itself.

He tried the handle and gave himself a mental pat on the back as he found a short but wide room, and in it, 4 medium sizes crates. He lifted a finger to his ear and taped, “I found ‘em”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Bruce heard his son whisper his success over their comm line and refrained from nodding. He knew that he could rely on Tim to succeed in independent covert missions, especially the ones that didn't dictate success based off brute strength and intimidation. Very few people were intelligent enough to fear the mind, so unless Bruce wanted to scare Ra’s, which was not something he wanted his son doing, he usually reserved Tim for the more subtle covert operations. Seeing as how Damian, despite his defiance, was already growing to resemble Bruce and Jason. He would most likely resort to the same physical forcefulness to get his way in the field. Bruce had to admit, it wasn't the most responsible or sophisticated approach, but it worked nine times out of ten.

The only problem was that every 1 out 10 type situations left them scrambling for a clever solution against men like Deathstroke and Ra's. Facing men who mentally combated situations similarly to himself put Bruce in a difficult situation because the best way to teach his sons to overcome them was to teach them to out-think the Batman. He plastered a slightly dopy grin as he met Luthor’s frustrated smile, “Why Lex! If I didn't know any better, I’d assume you weren't thrilled to see me!”

One of the men reached around the desk for another glass of wine, “Didn't realize Wayne was invited, Luthor”

“He doesn't know what an exclusive invite is”

Luthor glanced behind himself at the man but said nothing. Another man at the table leaned over, “Luthor did admit this was an investors meeting at the end of the day. The only thing Wayne has in abundance is his funds”

The man smirked at the jibe and Bruce continued focusing on Luthor, pretending he hadn't heard of wink of the snide snippets not even 10 feet from him, “Come on, Lex. You know I’m good for it” he patted Luthor’s shoulder with the strength of a man that assumed he was more liked that he truly was, “I was at the convention back in England and was meeting with Song to invest way back. I’m still interested”

Bruce’s claim to being involved months ago raised a few eyebrows. Luthor’s jaw cracked as he noticed a few subtle nods at the table slightly behind him. He smiled and rolled his shoulders in a way that forced Bruce’s hand to slide off his person, “While I understand your interest and appreciate the obvious effort you made to attend, I am curious as to how you learned of this…”

Bruce smiled widely and waved a blase hand through the hand, “Oh, you know Ollie. He gave me the heads up. Said one of his board members” he waved another casual hand, “Mark? Marcus? Mathe-”

“Jaurez” Luthor said with a hint of exasperation.

“That’s what I meant!” Bruce smiled, “Anyway, Ollie mentioned that Jose was set to attend but wasn't feeling well, so I thought I’d made sure the invite didn't go to waste. You know Ollie”

Luthor smiled and titled his head down slightly, “Yes, Oliver’s communication did leave quite the imprint”

Bruce chuckled, “Oh yea Ollie is such a talker but-”

“I’m terribly sorry, Bruce, but as I was attempting to communicate in the first place-we’re already wrapped up here you see”

The men behind Luthor looked at each other in slight surprise but none spoke out. Bruce’s eyes widened and he placed a hand on the back of his head, “Look at me and my bad time management” he chuckled, “Alfred’ll have my ass one of these days”

Luthor didn't chuckle with him.

“Well sorry about that Lex” Luthor’s eye twitched, “Let me know if there’s still any room for me to squeeze in I guess. I already set aside some funds when I spoke with Song and her husband a while back”

“The plans we discussed earlier would be easier and accomplished more quickly with a larger funded base, Luthor” One of the men commented from the table.

Luthor glanced behind himself, his narrowed and withered look still set in place. He smoothed his features out after a second, “Right you are Lorenzo, but-”

“Why don't you just send Wayne some of that information you mentioned and we can all head out. There no need for us to stick around here any longer”

Luthor went to reply but Mathew cut him off, “Great idea. Wayne doesn't seem like he needs any convincing. The chap made his way over here with a hand-me-down invite, anyways”

Bruce beamed at the off-handed compliment.

Luthor watched the table for a moment before turning to Bruce, “What was I thinking” he apologized, “I’ll have Mercy and the head of my investment developments department send you a portfolio on the budgeting and fiscal planning before we go public. Now, why don’t we….”

The doors behind Bruce were thrown open, banging against the walls with a forcefulness that had everyone jumping. A large man in a suit stomped forward, Tim hanging from his grip.

“Tim?” Bruce looked at him in shock, “I thought you were waiting in the lobby?”

Tim scowled petulantly and tried wrenching his arm away from where his bicep was clutched in a meaty grip, “I was” he tugged again, “But I got bored and came looking for you” another pull, “And then this guy got handsy” he finally turned on the man, “I told you I’m a Wayne ” he spat.

The large short short-haired man looked unimpressed with Tim’s pathetic wiggling. He looked at Luthor silently who nodded in exasperation. The man’s tight grip released unexpectedly and Tim stumbled a step before righting himself with a conceited huff.

“I apologize, Sir, but we were informed by our newest team lead that there was an intruder”

Luthor nodded with thin lips, “Well, get back to him and inform him you've found the boy. There’s no longer any issue”

The man hesitated, “With all due respect Sir, we’re still scouring the relative floors to ensure this is who team lead was referring to. His brief over the comms line made our suspect seem more of a…threat”

Tim gapped like he had any reason to be insulted, “Bruce! This guy just hauled me all the way down the hallway-”

“You were wandering in unapproved restricted hallways, unescorted” the guard replied strictly.

“I was looking for a bathroom!”

“There is one in the lobby” The man crossed his arms.

Tim did so as well, “Yeah, for the entire public to use. Homeless people could be crawling all over those urinals, you know”

The room’s attention was drawn elsewhere as a door that had previously gone unnoticed, opened in the far back of the room, opposite Tim and Bruce, and behind the seated billionaires. Heads turned to see a tall dark dark-haired man enter. He was dressed in black similar to the security roaming the hallways but his torso was covered in more of a run-of-the-mill protective vest, as if he was a bank transport security guard. Luthor’s frame blocked the man for the most part so Tim was unable to see his face until he heard his voice, “Sir” the man said.

Luthor tensed, eliciting an internal smirk in Tim. Luthor must have seen something memorable from his brother to make the man so wary of him. Tim knew Luthor was playing a dangerous game by ignoring the fact that he had seen Richard Grayson grow up under Bruce Wayne. Both men had been in the same social hierarchy since birth and knew who was who. Tim was glad that so far it seemed as if Luthor didn't have any need to out Dick's civilian identity and ruin that for him as well. He knew Dick already saw Nightwing as dead to Gotham, he didn't want Richard Grayson to join him.

“I’ve already been alerted to your little search” Luthor offered a snide glance down at Tim's shorter frame.

Tim couldn't see Dick’s response past Luthor and the guard but he heard, “Good. I came to report on that personally while I have my men search for the intruder. There’s no cause to be alarmed other than that. I’ll handle the individual myself”

Luthor smirked, “It seems you’ve been a bit lacking, team leader” he sneered the name, “The brat’s already been caught”

Tim realized attention was drifting to him and he squawked indignantly, falling back into character. Luthor turned to look at Bruce and Tim, allowing a better view for Dick across the room. Tim knew Dick had seen Bruce but was unable to hide his shock at seeing Tim just beside him. Tim fought the urge to laugh as he remembered when Alfred and Dick had told him he was thin enough to hide behind a lamppost. 

With his eyes still on Tim, Dick said, “That’s not w-” He stilled, “I understand Sir, I’ll be sure to alert the men to stand down now”

Luthor watched Dick for a moment and Tim knew it was how he fumbled his word choice, cutting himself off and accepting Luthor’s authority could have been accepted as venovenous or a verbal fumble from anyone else; not Dick.

Just in front and to the left of Dick, Tim spotted Queen Bee sitting quietly and straight-backed in her chair. Tim continued sweeping his gaze around the room so as to not appear suspiciously focused on the African woman. He was surprised she’d been quiet throughout their arrival and interruption, but if Dick was handling any larger role of authority in this mission, Tim could see how Queen Bee would be hesitant to speak out. He could only guess what kind of retribution Slade and Dick had demanded after Klarion’s curse.

Tim had the sudden urge to ask Jason how Dick had been, to know exactly what was said between them outside of the muffled grunts and curses they’d heard after Dick had pinned him to a wall. Bruce stepped up beside him and clapped him on the shoulder, “Well, I think this is just good timing” he said cheerily, “I’ll keep an eye out for those reading materials, Lex!”

He steered Tim away and around the scowling security guard, “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen!” Bruce called over his shoulder. Just as they were exiting the room, the pair caught Luthor's voice again, “Stay, boy. This is Wilson’s student, Anatoly. The one you wanted to meet-”

Tim made sure to offer a few more pointless protests and growls as he was steered down the hallway, “Let's go find you that bathroom” Bruce said.

Tim's shoulders and frame relaxed, “I’m good now, B” he replied, “I actually did find it, after all”

Bruce gave him a firm squeeze in return.

Chapter 33

Notes:

Hey there! New ch. let me know what you think

Slade entered the room with an ease that drew everyone's attention, despite his quiet footsteps. The room has been cleared since the meeting concluded, but Slade didn't waste any preamble. His gaze sought his student's immediately and found Dick already watching him. Slade clenched his fists at his side; pleased.

“Ah, Wilson” Anatoly beamed smugly from where he stood beside Dick. His student towered over Luthor and Anatoly but the stillness that Slade recognized in his apprentice made the man want to smirk. The boy could allow such trivial youthful inconveniences to permeate his mind. Slade could only imagine how the boy had handled the non-violent aspects of their operation. He maneuvered through violence with such ease and fluidity, that Slade was certain this was the right profession for him. And yet, insecurities and anxiety seemed to take hold just as easily. Slade had taken the opportunity to finish another contracted name that Savage wanted to be rid of, and in doing so allowed Dick to get his first real external organization management experience. He knew his bird was capable and more than qualified but he still wanted to allow the boy to spread his wings and flourish his skills in an environment that excluded his master, his master’s men, and his team. 

It would allow the kid to see where his true weaknesses lay and what his social tells were, once he was isolated without a sense of comfort from familiar faces.

“I heard Wayne made an appearance” Slade intoned dully.

Luthor’s lip curled but he disregarded the mercenary, “Nothing that couldn't be handled, the man is a bumbling idiot. He and his brat only came to resubmit financial interest in the De Longe’s work”

Slade looked to Dick, “His brat?”

“The waif-like one” Luthor sneered for him. Dick’s gaze darkened a tad as he watched Slade back with equal focus, telling Salde all he needed to know. Slade nodded and looked back to Anatoly, “I trust Richard here has been an acceptable replacement for conversation?”

Anatoly nodded and slapped Dick on the back. The move didn't jar Dick any, but his jaw clenched, “Oh of course! This boy really is too modest, Wilson. When you mentioned he’d been acting in supporting roles at your security firm, I expected financial oversight, not the damn lad leading the entire security team. What a sight!”

Dick’s eye twitched.

“While I’m not a young, frivolous girl, I’m quite certain I can speak for my daughter’s interest after all. What a looker you have here Wilson”

Slade smiled slightly and dipped his head, “He really has grown to be quite eye-catching” Slade looked heatedly at Dick and found the boy to be already aware of Slade’s internal thoughts.

Dick blinked before looking at the man at his side, “Excuse me?” he said bluntly.

Slade huffed a soundless laugh in response. Anatoly nodded largely, “Yes, my boy! Wilson mentioned how you were very stuck in your work and knee-deep in the company, so I thought it might be beneficial to have you meet my daughter. Anastasia can be quite the spitfire but that comes with the territory of dating a capable young girl like herself….”

Dick tuned out the short Russian man beside him as he dragged his spitefully pissed gaze to Slade across from them. Slade smirked, “Richard here might need some encouragement when it comes to the opposite gender-”

“Of course he would!” Another slap on the back, “I know a humble modest young man when I see one. Nothing like Wayne’s brats. Didn't one even get himself killed a few years back?”

Dick’s angry expression froze. His body was still as a prowling lioness in 6-foot tall grass. Slade sent him a sharp warning look, cooling the boy’s clenched chin. Slade sent a vague breezy look to the businessman as he felt Luthor’s gaze on his profile, curious as to how he would respond, “Yes, I believe I heard the same thing. A boy named Richard as well”

“Oh? What coincidence. I’m sure it was a combination of drugs and poor parenting, no doubt. Wayne was barely an adult himself, I have no idea how he managed to acquire 4 children under his care”

“Ma-” DIck cut himself off with a throaty cough, “Sir” he rasped, still just as stunned at the strange turn of events.

Luthor rolled his shoulders, “I have no intention of rushing anyone, but I do have an acquaintance to discuss things further with-”

Anatoly nodded, “Yes, yes, that tall long beauty from before. I get it, an old man can talk quite a bit. I’ll let you boys go now. We’ll see each other soon, no doubt”

Slade steepled his fingers and cracked his neck, “Yes, well I’m terribly sorry to cut any youth match-making decisions short but Richard and I do have other arrangements to get to. We are on somewhat of a time crunch this week”

Anatoly nodded, his thin dark hair flopping slightly, “Yes, yes of course. You boys go along now. And I’ll be sure to bring my Anna along with me to the next engagement”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick didn't give Slade more than a minute to get settled. The luxury SUV started to roll out and Dick turned on Slade, “What the fuck, Slade?”

Slade looked pointedly at him before pressing a button on the center console that doubled as a cup holder. A blacked-out privacy screen rose between the back seat and the driver. Dick could care less, “What was that about?”

“What? Your brothers? Wayne? Or Luthor’s guests?”

Dick’s jaw ticked, “I'm talking about when you sold me off like a slab of meat at a poultry farm”

Slade grinned wolfishly like the idea amused him more than it should. Dick glared scathingly, knowing the man most likely was assuming thoughts of Dick strung up in some filthy barn, vulnerable to his master yet again, “Don't tell me you can’t engage in some fake dating to appease these associates of ours? It’s a mission, Richard. I've seen you do much worse than play with a girl’s feelings”

Dick’s breath hitched but he didn't allow thoughts to formulate around the feeling, “We’re doing all this to take down the Light, not help out Luthor’s rich buddies” he spat.

“This isn't for the Light, this will bolster greater business for us and allow us an easier foothold into the Russian ammunitions market for trading and selling”

“Your sales are fine in Eastern Europe, we don't need this guy’s approval anyway. And what about later on down the line? It’s not like I'm marrying this girl, Slade. I dont even want to date her for a mission. It's pathetic” It's mean, he wanted to say but knew that kind of sentiment wouldn't go over well with the man.

Slade eyed him from the side, “Like I said, it will give us an easier foothold into the market. My sales and reputation are doing quite well, but Anatoly is heir to the second-largest Russian and Yugoslavian mob family; specializing in arms trade and annunition. I couldn't care less about that man and his spoiled heiress after that. Snap her neck on a date and make it look like a mugging. I never said I wouldn't allow you some leeway, pretty bird”

“That short fat man? He didn't look like he could stomach anything worse than an R-rated movie” Dick sneered.

Slade looked amused at Dick’s judging, “He hasn't been acting in a few years or so. There are some rumors his wife has forced him to take a break from the business and the mistresses to focus on his family, namely to ensure his daughter, who is coming of age, knows her place and role in the family business. But regardless, the last time he was aggressively active he held his own public execution in the streets of Belarus”

Dick cocked his head, unprepared for that answer. Slade nodded, “He may be a fat old man but he is hardly docile when it comes to his ambition. And currently, he sees my wealth as a benefit for his family empire”

“And the way to get that is through me and his daughter?” Dick cringed uncomfortably.

Slade nodded, “At the very least I assume she’s been instructed to sabotage every condom in her vicinity. Something to tie you down and to her. I’m quite glad that your looks and politeness won him over easily enough. Some fathers often want more proof in their future son-in-laws but I would assume he would prefer his daughter be the dominant character in any future marriage”

Dick still looked uncomfortable, “He said humble but he thinks I’m a little bitch”

Slade smirked and nodded, “That's what he would prefer over his daughter and family line being dominated. Your politeness did indeed convey submissiveness and weakness. That will only work in our favor as he knows that my company and funds will all be left to you”

“It’s still fucked up, Slade” Dick hissed, “I won't let you whore me out. And not to some mobster’s daughter. One that doesn't even know what her dad did until a year ago. She’s just a girl!”

“And you’re a boy. Am I about to hear a compelling case for cooties, kid?”

“Goddamit Slade!”

Slade raised a single brow as he leaned back against the leather seats. He crossed one large leg over the other, “I doubt you’ll need to do much. If you’re really worried about your performance in the bedroom, then you can kiss her until she sweats and then excuse yourself to the bathroom. Women tend to like an embarrassed man, it makes them feel like they’ve got power in making a man lose control over his extremities”

Dick gaped outrageously, “That's not the point!”

“What's wrong? Are you worried you won't be able to project as the bashful little virgin you wish you were? Or the decrepit masochist we both know you are?”

Dick bit the inside of his cheek, pissed beyond belief, but at a loss for words nonetheless. He was on the verge of spitting as Slade leaned in, gleeful dark temptation teased his face. Dick hoped the heat he felt in his cheeks was from anger and not embarrassment. The older man allowed his gaze to roam Dick’s face and tight jaw with a proud, possessive ease. The notion itched at the anger simmering in Dick’s chest while stroking another part of him, “Don't tell me you’re scared, kid? Nervous?”

He refused to lean back as Slade leaned in closer to his face, “Fuck you” he spat in a whisper. Slade chuckled lowly, the velvety sound grating on his senses in a way that had him vibrating. Dick bared his teeth, his eyes crinkling in a scalding anger, just beneath the surface of his now yellowed eyes. Slade’s eye gleamed in satisfaction and he continued forward until their temples were touching and he could feel his master's lips brush his ear. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he fought the shiver that worked its way from within, “Don’t worry” Slade replied smoothly, “Think of her as a cleanser for that filthy palate of yours”

Slade withdrew but his eyes locked onto Dick’s bloodied bottom lip in an instant. He leaned back in without any hesitation and dragged a hot trail along Dick’s bottom lip. Dick told himself that his lips parted in a gasp and not in a greater welcoming of Slade’s domineering tongue. Slade licked the coppery taste further into his mouth and smirked at Dick, still taking up as much space as possible. He had him crowded against the car door but Dick couldn't ever remember moving. His single eye glinted with something dark and dangerous when Dick’s tongue darted out to feel the space Slade’s tongue had enveloped mere moments ago, “Don't worry Little Bird, you know who you belong to. Some virgin pussy won't change much”

Dick blinked, coming back to himself. He glared murderously at Slade. He wiped his mouth roughly, “Give me her fucking picture” he spat, “I want to know what she looks like at least"

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

Tim looked over to where Bruce and Barry were hunched over the table in the Batcave. The Flash had reported that his nephew almost made it into the car with him but once he learned that it was just some requested research and professional technology interpretation that Bruce was administering, he decided to stay home and recap when his uncle Barry returned. Jason couldn't care less and made his happiness over a lack of Wally particularly loud; encouraging Bruce and Barry to move a few tables over. Tim had managed to take a messy imprint of one of the microchips he found in the fake bathroom with a large wet piece of gum. The chip, no doubt, would be broken and useless when they went to implement and install it into something much more grand and much worse but there was little chance that anyone would connect it to Timmy Wayne by the time that happened.

He’d stuffed the gum in his front pocket and prayed to every religious omniscience that the soft imprint survived until they got home. He also drew pictures from memory for the two leaguers as best he could as well, letting them take it from there. While he wasn’t as savvy with building computers and constructing motherboards, CPUs, and generators from nothing. He had a pretty good idea of all of the basic workings because he'd spent so much time maladapting and developing the software that ran off the hardware. So while he didn't have much to contribute, he could understand that Bruce and Barry were trying to discern what specific pieces and hardware had been used to construct these strange biologically leaning microchips. It would allow the League to narrow down options and eliminate what tools or weapons these microchips couldn't be used for, giving the League and other entities a greater advantage if needed.

He was leaning back beside Jason who had lost interest early and was now scrolling through his phone, “Dude, chill, I can feel your eyes” 

Tim blinked, realizing he had indeed been staring at Jason. Jason was folded in on himself and his chin was dipped down to his chest, focusing on his phone in a way that screamed brain rot. He lifted his acidic green gaze to Tim, “Chill” he stressed in a very bored blase tone.

Tim looked at him unappreciatively, “Whatever, I know you’re thinking about it too”

Jason cracked his neck and sighed, “No, replacement, Believe it or not. I’m not. I don't know shit about this tech. That's what you’re for”

Tim didn't point out he wasn't the one working on the chip constructs at the moment. Tim leaned back and kicked up his feet, “I was talking about the mission” he drawled, “Your little run-in with Dick. B and I heard it all” 

Jason stilled and clicked his phone off, “BS” he snapped, “I had my comms off until Dickie nailed me to a fucking wall and ran off”

Tim didn't admit to his lie, “Dick must’ve been just as bothered as you if he fucked up the mission for us”

It was a long shot but Tim had connected the dots, realizing something had been said between them. Dick had delayed Jason and left to look for their group before Bruce and Tim had even barged into Luthor’s meeting. The office building was large but not large enough to delay a running meta of Dick’s caliber. Tim wasn't confident about what had happened but it was clear that Dick had let his mission suffer, pretending to direct the men in a way that inefficiently tracked Jason. He looked surprised to see Tim with Bruce but even if Dick assumed Bruce was the only other one that had infiltrated, his behavior still made it clear he had intended to report Jason missing or escaped after Bruce had made his introduction. Tim wasn't sure how to feel about everything but he found a small part of himself smiling ruefully at how Dick was creating small bouts of chaos on his end so that his dad and brothers could succeed in their sporadic missions. 

“Dickhead is fine”, Jason said.

“He still risked a lot by fucking up his mission for us”

“We don't know what his mission was, replacement”

“Don't be obtuse, Jason. He was obviously supposed to keep what we did from happening. He could have caught you or caused more of a conflict. But he showed up to stop Bruce later than he could've and let his idiot security guards run around after you without his help”

Jason clicked his phone open again, “Don't know why you think that. He's probably still pissed over the whole magic kid thing”

“I think he's embarrassed,” Tim said honestly.

“Same fucking thing”

Tim sighed irritably. Jason wasn't even trying to work with him, “Look, I just meant-”

“I know what you meant, Tim” There was something different in Jason’s voice that had Tim falling quiet, allowing Jason to have the last word.

“There is more going on,” Tim said after a while, trying his best to keep an even tone, “It sounds like Slade or Luthor were having Dick meet with one of Luthor’s investors”

Jason didn't reply but didn't snap at Tim either, “It just keeps nagging me because it doesn't make sense” he said, “The Light would want to keep Dick out of more business and away from others that weren't necessary. The more he talks to people, especially about the chips, the more he might realize how he’s probably going to be a tester for these chips. It would only benefit the Light to keep Dick in the dark”

Across the room, Bruce said something to Barry who nodded and started speed scribbling.

“Deathstroke has to know what's going on,” Jason said in a horribly dark tone, “That fucker is smarter than he wants people to realize. But we all know he'll only risk Dick so far that his loyalty stays intact”

“So maybe Slade didn't know about Dick meeting that guy?”

“Not likely”

Tim hummed in agreement as they watched Bruce and Barry, “So either Dick and Slade are playing the Light or Slade is trying to play one too many hands without Dick knowing the full story”

“I hope it's that,” Jason said, “Dick can put up with a lot but he always snapped when Bruce kept him in the dark. It won't go over well for Wilson if that's the case”

Tim’s mind recalled when Bruce hadn't informed Dick of Jason’s murder or funeral until the burial had already taken place, “I'll look into what that was about” Tim said, trying to sound casual, “I caught his name but I’ve never heard of him. Never heard of most of those guys honestly but I think I saw the tall dark haired guy in last year’s Forbes magazine”

“They had accents, Luthor probably doesn't want rich assholes that Bruce Wayne knows”

“He invited Ollie’s Board member” Tim pointed out

“Ollie isn't Bruce”

“But Luthor has to know they talk”

Jason groaned miserably, “I don't fucking know Tim!” he snapped. Tim didn't force it, but Jason’s short temper did prove Tim’s curiosity as to weather or not the brothers had upset each other on the mission. He felt a tug inside his chest over how important Jason was to Dick. Tim knew that Dick loved him dearly and cared about him as a person, but there was always something about Jason that seemed to stall Dick's attention a little longer, or bring out a more immature, genuine side to Dick. Tim had seen it, the way Dick’s perfect smile and serene expression only seemed to break after Jason’s crude language or insistent demands.

Dick was always so patient and accepting of Jason, it almost felt like an adult and not a brother, so Tim could see how Damian had come to cultivate such an intimate dependant relationship with Dick, what with being just as crass as Jason…but Tim had never felt that from his side of their relationship. Dick was his brother, but he never lashed out the same way or allowed himself to break character in the same way. Tim knew it wasn't fair to compare them all as he knew he didn't pick fights with Dick or cause a scene nearly as much...but the notion still nagged at him. He sighed, suddenly more than uninterested in speaking if it meant he’d have to hold his tongue and his temper to speak with Jason.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Luthor watched Queen Bee depart, knowing that the other duties she mentioned needing attending were most likely unauthorized by the Light. He resisted the urge to show his disdain. The woman was polarizing on her best days, proving herself to be either a highly worthwhile asset or an incredibly inconvenient egotistical risk. He smoothed his expression, knowing how dangerous it was to be caught expressing the wrong expression when unprepared to answer for it. Mercy, loyalty as ever, stood stoically by the door. He watched her, admiring the synthetic designs he had decided to go with. Her short auburn cut highlighted her sharp jaw and her fair, smooth complexion acted as an interesting draw to almost any man. Very few had ever given her less than a passing glance, but men like Al Ghul, Wilson, and Cobb were the type of men to come already having known she was not human.

He shuffled his papers, placing them back in their respective folders. He hadn't been able to present every prepared page as Wayne as barged in on him, but Luthor was pleased nonetheless. The point of the private meeting had been met so that was enough for now. He could allow Wayne to think he'd disrupted their operations if it kept Batman off their backs for a bit longer. Wilson and his brat had departed not long after Wayne, staying just long enough for Wayne to entice Anatoly with the chips and his boy. It was obvious that Wilson was confident in his irreplaceability in order for him to prostrate the Grayson boy to a client in front of him. He suspected Wilson was attempting to solidify a deal with the Russian arms dealer through the Grayson boy and the mobster’s daughter, but Luthor couldn't deny he was interested in seeing where and how far it would go. Despite his submissiveness to Deathstroke, the boy was anything but pliant to those around him. He most likely would've spoken up in an inappropriate manner if he hadn't more stunned but the meeting. Deathstroke must know that there was no way he could get the boy married off at a young age, most likely intending to garner closer relations and interactions with persons of interest instead. Wilson would never sell his boy like a pig for slaughter over a simple transaction with a Russian gang. The boy was quite obviously more efficient and of use in long-term operations and Wilson was no fool.

He sighed and steepled his fingers, “Mercy”

She approached his side quietly and politely. His chin was supported on his fingers as he stared across the table unseeing, “Get me all the information we have on Oliver Queen’s Board members. I’m going to have Deathstroke deal with the imbecile who sought not to come to my summons”

She dipped her head, “Yes, Mr. Luthor”

He sighed as a depressive wave of irritability hit him. He rolled his shoulders to shake it off, reminding himself that Wayne hadn't been able to steal any of the stored microchips. He’d had Mercy check the crates on the top floor after Wayne and his brat departed; they had been all accounted for. He did make sure to have Mercy slip a chip inside each and every man’s handkerchief pocket as he shook their hands goodbye. He’d gotten the chips on their person and sent them on their way, that was what mattered, he reminded himself.  

After another brief moment of silence, “Has there been any news from within Wayne Manor?”

Mercy clasped her hands together, “Miss, Queen Bee requested that if you were curious, I were to update you on the following”

Luthor smirked darkly, knowing the following wasn't about to be good if the tall woman had quite literally left a message and then made herself scarce. He gestured for Mercy to continue with her report, “There has been nothing noteworthy inside Wayne Manor. Klarion has been delegated to more menial tasks in an effort to resolve his loyalty to the Light. Unfortunately, over the last few weeks, there seems to have been a disruption that has broken the connection between the implanted spies and Klarion. Due to his other responsibilities and the lack of significant knowledge gained thus far, Ra’s Al Ghul has suggested we do not re-deploy magic to spy on the Batman”

Luthor tapped the table idly, “Al Ghul is in support of this lack of action, how am I not surprised”

Mercy didn't reply.

“Schedule a meeting with Queen Bee. I want to speak to that damned woman, one and on and in private. She seems to be stuck between a rock and a hard place and far too confident in herself for it. If this were any other situation, I might been impressed by her duality”

Mercy nodded, “Yes, Mr. Luthor”

Chapter 34

Notes:

Hey there!

Here's another ch. Let me know your thoughts.

3/21 just reposting with some much needed edits

“How did this happen?” Tim stressed for the 10th time in the last minute.

Jason was ready to strangle him into unconsciousness, “I swear to God if you ask a question you know none of us can answer, one more time, Replacement…”

“Todd”
“Jason”

Damian and Bruce both snapped at him. The day had started somewhat normally, with everyone except Jason waking up and having a disjointed partial breakfast at Wayne Manor. By Bruce’s 4th cup of coffee, he was about to check his personal phone when Clark all but flew through the front door. He still had his glasses on, despite being in uniform. 

“Bruce” he breathed. He sounded out of breath, but that was nearly impossible just from flight. Bruce knew something horrible was amiss, and it was only 6:10 am. It wasn’t long until the red alert sounded for all Major Justice League members and the leading members’ households. Wonder Woman had been compromised.

It had only been a handful of hours but Jason could feel his skin prickling from all the tension around him. The Justice League had been summoned to take to the streets and discern what they could, tracking her movements from where Superman had last seen her. The Justice League was taking charge with half the League out in the field and the other half reconvening at Mount Justice. Batman and Superman, being the remaining 2 founders, were taking charge of hero deployments and orders. Captain Atom had requested that Bruce’s boys accompany the Young Justice team into the field but Batman had denied the request, stating that he needed Damian and Tim at his side for research and reconnaissance. When pushed, Batman stated that Jason’s presence with a team he did not cohesively work with would be detrimental to the Young Justice team's progress. Jason had begrudgingly been thankful that Bruce had blamed him and kept him close. He didn't want to be out in the field running after half-assed clues and partial reports with Connor, Blue Beetle, Artemis, and Wally.

Tim was hunched over multiple laptops while he issued orders to Damian on the side. The youngest brother followed through with additional support and research for Tim without a word.

“This is bad, Bruce. She’s been gone too long. They took her-”

“They didn't take her” Bruce cut Clark off, “The chip influenced her to believe doing so was in her best interest. She wasn’t taken. You nor Wodnerwoman could be kidnapped without kryptonite or heavy sedatives”

“My point still stands” Clark gritted out, “That she is gone and that is bad”

Batman nodded slowly, obviously trying to maintain patience with his friend, “I’m not arguing with you about that” he said, “I'm pointing out that this is further evidence that the Light needs to go to great lengths to affect the League’s topmost heroes. We do not know where she has gone since that chip was placed on her, so assuming that she has been incapacitated or kidnapped is not beneficial to our search”

Clark glared, “The only thing this proves is that the Light is making their move, and they are confident enough in their actions to attack one of us,” he said referring to the three of them.

“Redrobin and I are working as hard as we can. You are of no use on the computer so leave” Batman said bluntly. Clark’s eyes were barely moving to his second oldest when Batman continued, “Redhood is a hindrance to the team already out in the field, so he is better suited offering aid here”

Clark glared before he took a large breath. He nodded and turned to leave, “My comm is on, but I’ll be checking in every hour”

“Make it every other hour. Trade-off with those in the field,” Batman ordered without looking up. Clark glared at the simplistic way Batman functioned under high stress. It made him want to shake his friend for appearing so unaffected but Clark knew that Bruce was merely a high-functioning ball of stress. Batman was in his element and Superman was losing his cool. He narrowed his eyes and soundlessly nodded before taking off.

Jason watched, smirking at the exchange. Bruce, without looking snapped, “Jason, focus”

Jason turned his acidic look to Bruce’s back. Superman had burst in hours ago to claim that while he and Diana were out, an assassin bearing the mark of the League of Shadows had descended on them. The pair had been engaged in a fake interview so Clark, while genuinely stunned, was inhibited from acting out immediately. That assassin had jumped Wonder Woman, leaping over her shoulders that appeared to do nothing other than touch her. Clark had no idea what happened at first, concluding nothing other than Diana collapsing in a dizzy spell while the assassin made his exit.

She was only down for moments, not even a full minute according to Superman, before she rose, appearing herself until she spoke. She was unintelligible and confusing, speaking to herself as if she’d forgotten something she had to do or somewhere she had to go to on short notice. Superman starkly remembered her most coherent statement being, “You don't understand!”

Clark had tried to speak with her and calm her down. But the moment he touched her she fell into fight or flight. Superman realized it wasn’t Diana’s conscious mind when her body chose flight over fight. The Wonder Woman they knew would never back down from any form of challenge, she was a prideful amazonian, and a daughter of the Gods at that. They still weren't certain that it was the Light, but Batman and Tim were confident enough to work off the vague assumption for now, just until they found Wonder Woman. Superman reported that one of the Demon Head's assassins had made a move for her before disappearing, barely touching her lower neck area. Her arresting behavior coupled with the known players so far were telling, but the evidence they’d found at Queen Bee’s base confirmed that the ideal spot for chip implantation would be the neck area for safekeeping and accurate neological access.

Tim cursed under his breath again, earning a glance from Bruce. He knew his son was frantic and panicking under the belief that the Light was making their first pubic move, in a very detrimentally severe way. But Bruce also knew that he wouldn't want to be calmed or coddled, and he found that he and Tim usually thought the same. Tim wrote something down on a sticky note and slid it to Damian, the 17th side request since Damian had elected to nonverbally assist his father and brother, “Look that up in Google. If it’s not residential then put it through our systems and break down the building layout”

Damian nodded and took the slip of paper. Jason watched them as he scrolled through his phone. They weren't letting him help but weren't letting him out in the field so he was scrolling through TikTok and Instagram looking for any signs of a rampaging Wonder Woman. Reels and clips were quite helpful as kids were often quick to upload and include literally every hashtag they could imagine. From Jason’s eavesdropping, he’d been able to confirm that Tim and Bruce were also looking for public sightings of Wonder Woman, but in alternative ways. They were checking buildings that had been recorded as a pattern for Wonder Woman-if they were non-residential then they might be larger buildings that would offer the confused distraught demi-god some protection while she hid from the foreign urges whispering in her ear. Tim was also running descriptions of the tall, muscular, midnight-haired hero through public databases and monitoring systems like intersections and the, now mandatory, recording devices on the hood of every patrol car in Gotham. Bruce Wayne has been a strong public supporter for those when the city council brought the motion for a vote.

Jason sighed, knowing he’d most likely be out in the field before the end of the day. He was of no help to the nerds that made up his family.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Wally sighed as he pulled out his emergency lunch. His chest warmed and he suddenly felt eager to thank Artemis for packing it for him in advance but knew that she wouldn't appreciate him being sweet to her over comms. She and Megan had been very tense when word broke out about Wonder Woman. Wally knew explaining it as a girl problem would likely get him sucker punched by his girlfriend, but he had a feeling it was connected to a feeling like that. The women Leaguers like Black Canary and Wonder Woman held a different and strange sort of reverence within the Justice League. Not only was she a founding member female, she was also one of the only people who could take Superman head-on in a physical fight. She also put in the effort to get to know the sidekicks outside of Dick and his brothers. She made an effort to show interest and contribute skills and teachings for the younger generation when she had no obligation to. She and Superman were sidekick-less, even though Clark had taken to caring for Connor, he’d left his training to Black Canary for the most part. 

Wally finished off his crackers and was about to finish his 2nd ham sandwich when he felt something. His senses did a double take and he stilled, ears straining to his surroundings. Despite being meta, his enhanced senses were on par with Jason’s, maybe lesser so. Uncle Barry had theorized that there was something about his and Wally’s DNA that made them more susceptible to the type of meta mutation that enhanced speed and molecular maneuverability more than any other abilities. He held his breath, listening. He heard something soft but hard shift. Maybe hit something else? It reminded Wally of someone tripping and scuffing their shoe on pavement or loose asphalt. His eyes widened and he craned his neck upward. Someone was on the roof. He stuffed his sandwich in his mouth, thankful for the energy to enact his in-the-moment plan. He squared his shoulders and shoved himself forward, letting his speed blur him amongst his surroundings.

He raced up the side of the building, suddenly thankful it wasn’t something outrageous like 15 stories. The one he suspected was only 9 stories and Wally found himself hefting his arms and chest over the ledge just in time to see the tail end of a black-clad elbow disappearing over the other side of the roof. Wally stopped, baffled. He shook his head, The only one crazy enough to jump from a building at such a crazy angle was Dick.

The thought alone made his breath hitch and his eyes snap back to where he’d just seen someone. He slapped his chest, initiating camouflage mode, and sped to the edge of the building, cringing as his first and last movements scattered pebbles beneath his feet. Wally glared down at the rooftop gravel. He peered over the edge and felt his breath leave him. Dick was perched on the side of the building, anchored by the curve of just one bent knee. He was fiddling with the zipper of a small duffle bag that was thrown around his shoulder, but at that moment, his fingers were frozen and he staring directly at Wally. Wally felt equally frozen, a sudden rush of shivers, so hot they felt like a hot flash, sputtered through him. 

Dick didn't move at first and Wally felt a strange sense of bemused confusion settle in. On the verge of speaking first, he saw Dick’s bright blue eyes dart left and right staying hyperfocused on the general vicinity of Wally. Wally resisted the urge to suck in a breath or gasp, realizing that Dick had heard his movement and was waiting for an assailant to leap over the ledge at him. He can't see me. Wally felt like an idiot, after just initiating the camo mode in his suit as well. He waited Dick out, thankful that Dick’s enhanced senses didn't seem to have increased his olfactory receptors. If that was the case, Wally’s sweat and salami breath would have sold him out in seconds. Dick’s gaze was still sharp and patient as he watched Wally’s invisible form. Wally had a sudden sense of deja vu in recollection of their time with Young Justice. Wally and Dick had always been two ADHD peas in a pod as children side kicks but Wally had been dumbfounded on his first mission with both their mentors. It was the first time he'd seen Rob so locked in that the Boy Wonder had been still and silent for such a long time.

Eventually, Dick's lips turned down and he looked back to the duffle bag in his lap. He looked at ease on the rusted fire escape, balancing his body with the ease of one thigh. He took stock of something Wally couldn't see before he nodded to himself and zipped the bag shut, tossing it around and onto his lower back. He reached up without looking and gripped the rusty wrung above his head. He released the bar he’d been sitting on and let his body dangle over the side of the fire escape. He swung his legs back just far enough before he released and fell straight down. He plummeted with the grace of a professional diver before he threw his legs over his head in a quick spin, catching the bottom wrung of the firescape. Wally heard him hiss loudly as his shoulders screamed in protest, but as soon as his swaying body stilled, he released and dropped to the floor. Dick glanced up at Wally once more before pulling out a pair of sunglasses and trotting off down the alleyway.

Wally allowed himself to breathe, reminding his lungs not to inhale too loudly. His chest burned as he protested at the slow intake but Wally was too concerned with being caught. Wonder Woman being compromised within the same span of seeing Dick back on the East Coast was no coincidence. Wally kept his camouflage on as he tapped his comm, “Dick’s here” he whispered, crossing the building rooftop to follow his best friend.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“For once, I agree with West” Damian gripped, “This is surveillance, not a 10-man mission”

Wally glared from where he was leaning against the wall. His expression said, Exactly.

“Shut it brat, “You would be the first one benched if we did”

Damian glowered, “You weren't doing anything anyway, Todd”

Tim sighed, “That's why Bruce sent Jason. You demanded to come. He is handling all the research and tracking on his own now”

Wally pushed off from the wall, “He sent all of you so it sounds like you’re all expendable at the moment”

All 3 brothers looked at Wally, “Are you attempting to discredit our father or hurt our feelings?” Damian genuinely asked, “Father’s crude teachings have had us acknowledging the blunt reality that we are all expandable in the face of Justice, for many years now”

Wally dropped his arms, looking uncertain, “We, we should go. I don't even know what Dick is doing in there”

“The fucker definitely has something to do with this” Jason stalked forward angrily.

Tim sighed and tugged his gloves up, “We don't know that, Hood. Don't change in there with assumptions”

“Todd is correct to realize the overlap of Wonder Woman and Richard’s movements are too concise to be an accident”

Tim’s jaw clenched, “Just don't assume shit 'till we actually know” he stalked forward and past Jason. Wally had tracked Dick to a closed business office before hiding outside and calling for backup. Tim had pulled the blueprints and confirmed that it was an old Star Labs laboratory site. The bottom half of the building was for admin and financing while the top half housed high-operating laboratory tools and space. It had been shut down for a handful of years but Dick’s interest in the building told them that there was something still in the building, or someone.

Tim glanced down at the digital blueprints he’d managed to pull, “We shouldn't split up but we do need to search every floor. Dick might be here for paperwork or medical research”

“He’s one guy in a big building, we gotta spread out” Jason argued. Tim bit his lip and looked at Wally.

Wally shook his head, “My camouflage only lasts so long and I can't go fast enough to go unnoticed by Dick now. There's paper and stuff in there I bet and it's harder to hide a gust of wind in an office building than it is outside. I’d need a whole lunch to pack enough energy to be that fast. I just climbed a building to go after him so I'm a little drained”

Tim’s brow scrunched but he nodded, “Ok, Damian and Wally-and Me and Hood,” he said.

They all nodded, “Keep your comms on” Jason flipped him off as he entered the dark building, “Hey, look they don't even have the door locked. Ollie needs to hire better security”

They made their way inside the building and separated taking every other floor as a team. Tim made sure to snap as many pictures as he could so that he could run everything by Ollie later. He wasn't sure if his people had just assured him that all the necessities had been cleared out or if this had been a blunder and overlooked. Tim knew Bruce would lose it if he found out that an old Wayne Ent. technology infrastructure building hadn't been wiped clean when the company switched office buildings. Tim didn't see anything that drew his attention or concern and they continued on until they heard a distinct crash. A large thud followed by smaller tumbles reached their ears and Tim shared a look with Jason who nodded. Tim sent a silent alert to Damian, letting the youngest Robin know to meet them at their location. They crept towards the sound, silent and slow.

“You’ll know, my ass” They heard Dick curse as another crash resonated. Tim focused on the noise as they crept closer and closer. They made their way down a hallway that rounded into a larger space. A clear set of double doors led to what appeared to be another department or an executive office. They stayed low and watched around the corner, noting spilled boxes and a mess of papers across the floor. Another curse reached their ears before a set of boots pounded by, “He couldn't have been any clearer could he?” Dick snarled to himself. 

The boots came back and stopped before a hand shot down and snatched a paper from the floor. They heard some shuffling before Dick seemed to keep the paper and continue around the office again, “I swear to God, Slade…”

Dick’s muttering became more quiet and Tim turned, sensing Damian to his right. Damian and Wally had met them and were crouched just behind and to their right. Wally jerked his chin towards the thuds and shuffling papers, Dick ? he mouthed. Tim nodded. 

Jason nudged Tim’s shoulder and sighed, Well?

Tim bit his lip before turning back to the others. He motioned across the hallway with 2 fingers and then pointed at their feet with another 2 fingers. He paused and everyone nodded. Tim slowly held up 3 fingers, one by one before pointing down the enlarged hallway and making a fist. He pressed the first to his chest and looked pointedly at everyone. They nodded. Tim nodded back and signaled them to go. Wally and Damian crouched and shuffled across the hallway like rats the moment they felt Dick was distracted. They passed and Tim leaned around the corner as much as he felt it was safe. He spotted Dick’s back. His brother was dressed head to toe in black, sans gloves. His head was bare but his arms were covered in a longsleeved compression tactical shirt and he wore slim-fitting cargo pants, the pockets filled to the brim with objects they couldn't discern.

Dick was leaning against the table while reading a paper in his right hand; another handful of ruffled papers were shoved under his arm and pressed close to his ribs. While watching Dick, Tim held up 3 fingers one at a time and then moved. He swiftly stood, making sure to force his steps into a smooth follow-through motion, touching the tip of his boot and ending at the very heel. It minimized any potential for the feet to stomp and make additional sounds, almost like how professional marching bands were taught to walk. Tim reached the doors at the same time he let his bostaff slip into his fingers and elongate. The soft wooshing that the heavy glass door made, stilled Dick’s back and shoulders. He stiffened before dropping his head. Before anyone could react, he’d dropped the papers and reached into his side, pulling a short firearm, “I told you Eerie, I can handle a retrieval missi-”

Dick stopped short as he took stock of his brothers and best friend, “Hey guys” he greeted with a sudden smile. He reholstered his gun and quirked a brow, “What's up?”

“What is going on, Richard?” Damian demanded, “What level of involvement do you have in Aunt Diana’s situation?”

Dick looked puzzled, “What do you-”

He stopped short and realization seemed to light his irises. He sighed heavily before rolling his shoulders, “Look, I’m sorry you had to see her that way, but this is all temporary” he reassured, “This” he gestured around him, “Is just a little side mission”

“And what?” Wally pushed, “Wonder Woman is the distraction?”

Tim narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, “Seems like a pretty big distraction for such a small mission”

Dick smirked and he looked almost proud for a moment, “Don't worry” he said again, “This is nothing. As soon as I’m done here, Diana will be back to nor-”

He didn't get a chance to finish as Wally flashed forward, speeding around the table and snagging the papers from Dick. He ran around behind Dick, but while he’d made his move, Dick had reached for his gun at the same time he leaned forward and kicked out behind himself. Wally squeaked in surprise as Dick’s foot caught his ankle and sent him rolling. He landed against the left side of the office in a heap, glaring up at an upside-down Dick, “Not cool, Rob” 

Dick smirked slightly, “Dude. You know I can't compete with super speed”

Wally ignored him and looked at the papers in his hands, “Wally” Dick warned, but was ignored. Wally looked back up at Dick before pushing himself up and onto one knee, a stunned expression freezing his face.

“What?” Tim asked.

“Why does an old Starr labs building have stuff on Amanik?”

Tim and Damian looked shocked, turning on Dick for answers. Jason whistled, “Like a goddamn telenovela” he muttered out loud.

Dick patiently put his hands on his hips and placed the gun on the glass table, “Wally, seriously. Dude, give it to me”

Wally glared back petulantly. Dick glared back, “Don't make me take it”

“4 versus 1, Dick” Tim said.

Dick leveled a patient and knowing look in return, “I trained you, Tim. Unfortunately, the last handful of years have put me even further outside your league”

Silenced descended over the room until Jason sighed; overly loud and grumbly, “Dude, just be real. You know we won't walk away and we know you'll only go so far” Dick’s eye twitched at Jason’s call on his bluff, “Why are you collecting shit on Amanik and why does Starr Labs even have shit on him?”

Dick didn't respond at first. Instead, he turned and began to go through the rest of the scattered paperwork. Jason balked, “Are you fucking ignoring us? Dude! We aren't like 10”

If they were 10 years old again, Dick would have turned to Tim and asked, “Did you hear something?” But he maintained a quiet and stoic facade, discarding papers that didn't meet his unknown criteria.

“You didn't know what you were here for, did you?”

Dick stilled at Tim's words before he closed his eyes in defeat, “What?” Jason asked dumbly.

“You heard him” Tim jerked his chin at Dick, “He was pissed Slade sent him here for something that he’d know when he saw it. This is it. The Light wants you to wipe any public traces of Dr. Amanik don't they?” Tim directed the last part at Dick.

Dick finally opened his eyes and looked at Tim, “I assume” he said.

“But why?” Damian interjected, “He’s been missing for years. Didn't he die in that…collapse” he put it delicately.

Tim watched Dick for his reaction, “No” Tim breathed, “The Light has him, don't they? They're protecting him” he concluded.

Dick turned on Tim in a flash of surprise and anger but Tim persisted quickly, “Why does the Light want Amanik?” 

Wally looked confused as well, slowly inching back towards the brothers, “Yea, it was Cobb who did that shit to you, and he took notes-”

“No” Dick snapped, “He didn't. My gr-Cobb is an imbecile. He survived long and took notes of every failed attempt at his evolution project” Dick sneered the phrase, “But he’s not a doctor. He’s a walking ego, not a medical professional”

“What does the Light want him to do?” Damian asked.

“Were you listening pipsqueak” Jason snapped, “Dickhead didn't even know why he was sent here. He isn't gonna know shit about Amanik’s w2”

Wally ignored Jason’s joke and clenched his jaw at Dick, “Right, because why would the Light ever want their first guinea pig in the know”

Dick’s eyes narrowed at the demeaning tone but Wally pushed on, “You know you’re first, right Rob? As soon as the Light is done using you and Deathstroke for their shit list jobs, they’ll tie you down and chip you like a do-”

“Watch yourself Wally” Dick whispered lowly.

Wally didn't speak at first, but Jason cracked his knuckles, “You know he’s right, Dickie”

“Jay-” he began before stopping abruptly. Dick’s eyes jumped to the door behind them, “How did you get in here?” he asked with an urgency that surprised them.

“How does everyone enter a building, Dickhead?” Jason sneered.

“I'm not kidding, Jason, how-”

“The door, Dick” Tim insisted.

“Fuck”

“What?” Damian was looking between them all. Tim dropped his head down, his short dark hair dropping with him, “The door was alarmed wasn't it?” he asked. Dick didn't answer him, instead, he stomped up to Wally and snatched the papers from his hands, and folded it messily. He jogged over to the other side of the room where a limp black duffle bag lay. Dick stuffed the papers in the bag without care, grabbing other discarded paperwork around the bag and throwing it in there. Without looking up, Dick said, “Code 9”

“Shit” Jason groaned.

“What? What??” Wally was looking between the brothers with increasingly frantic energy.

“Code 9 means get out as fast as you can” Tim supplied, “It was a code we made when we didn't have the capacity to talk out escape routes when things went south”

Dick brushed by them in a fast walk, the duffle bag was swung up and onto his back, “Yep” he agreed shortly.

“But who’s coming?” Wally asked as they ran up behind Dick, following him down the hallway in a jog.

“I’m not sure, I don't know who the Light has guarding this place, but I saw the silent alarm hooked up to all the first-level doors when I got here” Dick’s eyes were jumping from door to door, his blue irises becoming more and more murky.

“Ok”, Jason said, “Easy, we just go through the roof”

“That's too easy,” Dick said, taking a sharp left, “That's where I came in and that's where they'll expect an escape attempt”

“How bad can they be?” Wally asked, “It's 3 metas and 2 Bats versus them”

Walls” Dick said, taking another sharp turn, “I love you man, but preemptive planning has never been for your forte. If the Light has been holding onto the knowledge of the place for this long, then they’ve got to have a pretty good backup team to act as security”

“Where are we going, Richard?” Damian asked.

Dick frowned but the moment he glanced at Damian's bright attentive eyes from his periphery, his brow softened and he looked ahead, “3rd floor is enough of a gamble for them not to guess it first and close enough to street level to be safe”

“Safe?” Tim balked, “Dick you're not thinking of just leaping out the window are you?”

Dick smirked but didn't look at Tim, “You have your grappling hook” he said simply.

Tim amde a sound, “What if we didn't? Or if it malfunctioned?”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Sure Tim. Like you would ever bring malfunctioning equipment into the field. I know you still do triple-checks for fun”

Dick paused and the group slowed beside him. Dick stared ahead, unseeing for a moment, before he turned to the right where the manual stair access lay behind a single door, “They're here” he said, glancing at the sign that confirmed they were on the 4th floor.

“Let’s go”, Wally said, pushing past them. Tim joined him as they went in the opposite direction toward the elevators, “Wait” Tim began.

Damian made a crude remark about how unorganized they all were when Dick snapped out, “Wait!”

The elevators opened at the same time the doors to the stairwell slammed open. Two men in black combat vests and clothing were waiting prepped in the elevator; their guns already leveled. Their firearms were leagues larger and longer than what Dick and Jason usually carried, gleaming under the corporate lights of the building. They fired before anyone could make a sound. Wally seized up, vibrating with an intensity that nearly made him translucent. Just as the bullets shot through him, Dick was already in the air, lunging for Tim. He tackled his younger brother and they were rolling into an intersecting hallway. The ear-ringing shots halted immediately and Dick pushed up to see that Wally had shot toward the men in the entryway to the stairwell. He shoved at them with a speed they were unprepared for and their team of 4 went tumbling backwards down the stairs.

Another louder, less-consecutive shot started firing and the men in the hallway cursed, offering 1 more burst round fire before the ding of the elevator sounded off, separating them. Dick involuntarily relaxed at the sound of Jason’s single-fire glock, If Jay can shoot, he’s fine.

“Shit” Tim breathed. He pushed himself up on his elbows from where he was collapsed under Dick’s heavy frame, “Check!” Tim called immediately, “Check” Dick groaned loud enough for only Tim to discern.

“Check!” Jason and Damian responded at once.

“Check?” Wally’s voice came a moment after. Dick hissed under his breath as he shoved himself up to his feet and off of Tim. He wrenched Tim up by his upper arm, scanning him intently, “Are you hurt? Did I crush something?”

Tim smiled, suddenly self-conscious beneath Dick’s mothering, “I’m fine. You got me fast, Dick”

Dick nodded but he didn't look pleased. He turned and made his way into the opened space where the hallway met the stairs and elevator.  Bullet holes and casings littered the carpeted floor. Jason and Damian peeked around the corner of the opposite hallway when they heard footsteps, Jason’s gun leading the way. They emerged when they saw Dick and Tim. Wally shoved the door closed again and shattered the fire extinguisher and emergency first aid kit case hanging to his left, retrieving a small metal axe. He jammed the emergency hand ax against the metal handle to wedge the door closed more firmly.

Tim glanced at the elevator, “Did they retreat?”

“They would if they knew what was best for them” Damian sneered.

“I think the elevator doors just had a timer on them” Tim replied dryly. They turned to take stock of each other when Dick closed the space between him and Wally in seconds.

“You almost got him fucking shot” Dick snarled, charging into Wally’s face, “What were you thinking?” Wally cringed and looked at Tim. He knew he'd proceeded without thinking things through. He almost never worked in a team anymore so he often forgot to slow himself fown. He was about to apologize for nearly getting Tim shot when he spotted dark red blood on his red and black vest, splatters coating the inside of his cape, “You’re hit” he gasped, stepping closer. Tim’s eyes went wide, assuming he was in shock and in more danger than he suspected if he couldn't feel the wound. He looked down, with everyone else, and touched the blood coating his abdomen. His fingers coasted across firm, untouched kevlar and padding, “I'm not hi-”

Tim’s eyes jerked back to Dick and then down to his stomach. A much darker oval spot of blood was apparent on his figure. Beneath Dick’s thin sleeveless vest, Tim could see where the wound had shredded his shirt and then skin in 2, 2-inch-sized holes. The skin wasn't even visible beneath the heavily trickling blood, “Dick!” Tim went to do something, compress the wound, comfort his brother, but he suddenly wasn't sure. He looked to the others in astonishment but all eyes were on thr blood now trailing down Dick's thigh.

Dick stepped back with a grimace, “I'm fine” he said gruffly.

Jason scoffed, “He can heal in like 10 minutes Replacement, chill”

Tim looked from Jason and then back to Dick, his attention snagging on Damian. Damian was watching the wound, not Dick. Tim saw the taciturnity beneath his utterly still features. Damian saw it too, the blood wasn't even slowing, “You're still drugging yourself aren't you?”

Dick narrowed his eyes in a warning to Tim but Tim didn't abide by it, “He won't heal because he’s still suppressing himself with that cryo compound”

Dick’s jaw was clenched but it was unclear if it was from pain or frustration with his hard-headed brothers, “Im. Fine” he repeated.

Jason stepped up closer, “Dickhead, are you still taking that shit?”

Dick eventually dragged his frigid gaze from Tim to Jason’s, refusing to talk. Jason groaned and let his head drop back, “You idiot”

“You’ve seen-”

“I don't care how batshit crazy you get when you’re on your period”

Dicks fists clenched at his side and the veins along his throat pulsed.

“You can't go into the field acting like a meta without being a meta” he stressed in annoyance. 

“I'm fine”

Jason scoffed, genuine annoyance hitting him, “Fine my ass. If I shoot you now, can I actually put you down?” he mockingly tapped Dick’s temple with his gun. Dick’s eyes shimmered a strange hue, almost like when a clear blue lake was hit with the bright yellow rays of the sun, allowing murky streams of light to penetrate. 

“Jason” Tim wanted his brother lowly.

“Guys, we gotta go” Wally stressed, “Rob are you good?”

“Yeah, I said I’m fine” he hissed, still staring down Jason. Damian glared, “Alright, but we need to take care of those remaining men and leave as soon as possible”

“Then what?” Tim asked, “Wonder Woman is still who knows where” he turned on Dick, “Did you know they were going after her?”

Dick pulled his attention from Jason, “No” he answered honestly, “Slade only told me that the Light would provide a distraction”

“You need to help us, Richard” Damian stressed, “Wonder Woman cannot be allowed to be compromised. The Light has access to Klarion and Psimon. These chips are bad enough and we don't know what the lasting damages are. This will be detrimental if left unattended”

“Besides” Wally added, “Looks like your little scavenger hunt is over” he nodded at Dick’s duffle bag.

Dick slowly turned back to Jason and his previous glare had melted into a coy smirk, “You know. I’m kind of a freelancer now. An entrepreneur of you would” he said slyly, “But I could be convinced to help out for the right kind of offer”

Jason made a disgusted sound and narrowed his eyes, “You want us to fucking pay you? To help us?! You think you’re Deathstroke? Huh?”

“I’ll be honest, Jay, I'm surprised you’re willing to help B at all” Dick watched Jason, almost eager to be getting on his nerves after putting his gun to his head, “Makes me wonder how honest you were being when you called me a pussy for never telling Bruce to shove it”

“Fine” Jason shoved at Dick’s shoulders and the muscles Dick instinctively used to tense and maintain balance just happened to be shredded by a bullet at the moment. He hissed and nearly collapsed to one knee, breathing harshly. Jason stared down at Dick with unfettered disgust, “Expect a check in the mail from Redhood” he snapped, “Let's go”

Chapter 35

Notes:

Hey there!

Here's a new ch. There's gonna longer and more jumps in time after this

Dick directed them into separate groups to make their way down the stairs. There was no point in trying to escape out a random window now so Dick had them target their enemy head-on, knowing they had to take out the men who’d survived the fall, and the men that had taken the elevator down to the lobby, not even including any additional back up that was potentially waiting in the lobby. Tim and Damian had protested Dick using himself as bait while the others converged but Jason cut them off, “Let him act like a martyr” he said, a spiteful glint in his eyes. 

Dick looked at his brothers, “It’ll be fine. I can still afford to take more damage than you guys. Besides, we might be walking into a small ambush anyway. I don't know how many men were supposed to respond to this place if the alarm was triggered”

Tim looked guilty that he hadn't caught sight of the alarm but Dick smiled softly and brought a hand down on the soft dark crown of his head, “Let's go”

Dick descended in the elevator while the others crept down the stairs. Jason monitored Dick and their enemy’s location with the heat sensor built into his helmet. He stopped and motioned for them to prep and wait when he saw Dick reach the lobby. Dick had his hands up by the time the elevator doors dinged open. Before him stood 10 men at the ready, and behind them lay 4 bodies off to the side. Dick idly wondered if any had died in the fall backward down the stairs and broken their necks, but the concern and interest in that answer faded as quickly as the thought had occurred.

He glanced back to the men who had their automatic rifles aimed at his chest. Dick noted that they only had scopes with accuracy lasers attached to the ends, which told him they were either used to sniper-based work or they didn't have enough experience to confidently act without assists. The others looked to be using the same gun but Dick had heard their gunfire upstairs, he already knew they were burst sentry riles. Even on automatic, there were only so many bullets one pull of the trigger could fire at once.

One of his raised hands waved once, “Hey,” he greeted.

One man at the front spoke, “State your business and name. You are intruding”

Dick cocked his head, “This isn’t Baskin Robins 31 Flavors?”

Dick heard the safety click on one of the many guns pointed at him, “Hey, it was just a question”

“State your-”

“Name and business, yea yea, I get it” Dick dismissed, “Whose name do I have to throw around to get you not to shoot me…again. Luthor? Queen Bee? I know this isn't Ra’s, he already has a security team” Dick sent the men in front of him a knowing look, “And they are waaaay better than you guys”

The men looked unsure and glanced at the man who had previously spoken. Dick sighed, “Look-” He lunged at the men’s feet, taking out the first row of men on pure confusion alone. A few grunted and cried out in surprise, scrambling away from him on their hands and knees, or reaching for their weapons. Dick heard the stairwell door slam open and he kicked off the floor, continuing to roll like a kid that had run out of grassy hill but refused to stop. He continued rolling across the floor as gunshots started off. A smoke bomb erupted and further cries and shouts ensued. Dick stopped his momentum and shot to his feet, reaching for the nearest man. He grabbed a forearm; the man was just as surprised as he was. A pathetic tug of war erupted before Dick pulled him closer and headbutted him easily. The man’s eyes didn't even have time to roll back before he was dropped.

Dick slipped his gun from his figure and stood, offering 2 quick bullets to everyone within range, relying on the quick instinctive firing that Slade had drilled into him, down to his bones and tendons. Within a few short minutes, the shouts and grunts were minimized before all sounds ceased completely. Dick heard the gas canister cease its hissing but didn't wait for the smoke to clear, “Check!” he called out.

“Check!” he heard back from 4 different voices. Dick allowed his shoulders to drop and walked forward, pointing his gun at the ground. Wally saw him first and balked, “Dude! What the fuck”

Dick halted in confusion. He looked down and checked himself over, realizing that the skin of his bullet wound hadn't healed, but his blood had stopped flowing at a steady trickle, leaving an angry, open gash-like hole. While glancing between himself and Wally, his eyes spied his gun, and he realized the source of the redhead's anger, “I didn't kill anyone, Walls”

Wally glared mutinously, “How do you know?! That's a fucking gunshot wound! On tons of people! Are you gonna take them to the hospital?”

Dick glared, feeling like he was being put on the spot. He’d seen far worse, “I didn't kill them, they’re fine. They came here to kill us, so a shot to disable them, and not put them down, should be a blessing. A few guys might need kidney surgery, but they’ll just need a blood transfusion and lots of liquids-”

“Dude! What the fuck!” Wally stepped up close to him and Dick reacted just as quickly. The moment he registered the way Wally froze Dick cursed himself, knowing he must've reciprocated something that went beyond Wally’s angry stomping.

 

What did I do?

Slade’s never looked at me that way....

 

As if on que, his mind reminded him of just the other day, when Dick had done something to make the man lean in, pinning him against the wall to watch him. His steely grey eye had corralled him into stillness against the kitchen counter and all Dick had felt was the temperature of their breathing, mixing just centimeters from each other-

Dick forced the thought and emotion away, coming back to Wally’s tirade, “-can’t just shoot them?! The whole point is not to treat them like they treat us!”

Dick nodded, “Right, I forgot the golden rule stops applying when we turn 18” Dick crossed his arms, careful not to lay too much weight against his torso, “They were here to kill whoever had broken in, Walls. They didn't come here to protect anything or to steal anything. They came to inflict lethal pain on you”

Wally’s face and freckles lit up furiously.

“Dude,” Jason said, “He’s right. They're hurt, but they aren't gonna die. We’ll call this in, and the police will be here for medical transport, and then jail”

Wally looked back to Jason and then the rest of the brothers. He gave Jason and Tim a look, demanding further support but Dick’s brothers met him stoically. He dropped his shoulders and dismissed Dick with a look, walking away.

Dick crossed his arms, flinching as he flexed his wound badly, “Since when did we listen to the hero-sanctioned gunman?”

“Don't” Jason jabbed a finger in Dick’s face. He looked at the others, “Tim, call it in, Dami-”

Everyone but Dick froze, bringing a hand to their ear comms, “Copy” Tim said.

Dick smirked, “I guess B found Wonder Woman, huh?”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bruce sent them the coordinates and reported that he and Superman would be there soon. Apparently, Wonder Woman had caused a ruckus, so the local Justice League members and the remaining YJ team were stationed in those areas to offer local police support and confirm there weren't any casualties. So far, the reports were of overturned cars and collapsed first-story buildings, but no one had called in any deaths, which was a plus.

Dick and the others got there first, instantly scoping out the area. Before Dick could move in, Wally stopped Dick with a hand on his chest, “I need assurance you’ll keep your promise”

Dick watched the hand on his chest before he querked a brow at Wally, intrigued. Wally glared, “Hand over your bag, you’ll get it back when Diana is fine”

Dick’s lips thinned, “I can't stay that long Wal-”

“Until the situation is contained,” Tim cut in. Wally looked perturbed but didn't argue, watching Dick for his answer. Dick stared back, unfamiliar with the territorial power play that his best friend was making. Wally was the definition of breezy and laid-back. He never forced anything and despised confrontation. 

“Don't make me shoot you” Jason warned, “Give the Demon brat your fucking bag and you can get your creepy little papers back when you’ve helped pin down a crazy Wonder Woman”

Dick dragged his attention from Wally to Jason. He couldn't help but notice how both his brother and friend were watching him with equally bright, acidic eyes. Dick allowed them a moment of silence, refusing to agree too quickly, “Alright” he agreed with a lax smile.

He swung his bag off his head and shoulders before offering it to Damian, strap first. Damian looked uncertain, glancing back to Tim and Jason. Dick tsked, “It's alright, Dami. Help keep me in check, yea?”

He stepped forward, making sure to brush shoulders with Wally just a little too jarringly. He tightened the duffle bag strap and laid it over Damian’s head. He adjusted the strap even more so it was snug across Damian’s back in a slightly horizontal line. They heard a crash around the corner and Dick sighed, “Found her” he added unhelpfully.

Not missing a beat, Tim asked, “How do we handle this? Are there any structural weaknesses in the chip? Water or sweat or stronger electromagnetic signals?”

Dick shrugged, “How should I know?”

Jason scowled, “Don't give me that shit. You’ve been their little secret keeper for the past few months, Dickhead”

Dick looked at him with a sickly sweetness, “That doesn't mean I built them. Or that I read the freaking instruction manual when I was bored. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not chipped, Jay”

“No, you’ve made it clear you’re doing this all on your own,” Wally spat. Dick smiled back. He looked back at Tim and shrugged, “My best guess is for us to corner her and rip it off her. It’s somewhere around her head for best the best neural…connection” he put lightly, “But she’s half God, she’ll be fine if we gotta shred some skin”

Damian scowled but stayed silent. Jason scoffed, “That’s the plan? Are you shitting me?”

Dick returned his attitude, “Well until B gets here we gotta wing it a bit. The contingency plan we made when I was Robin won't really work here”

“What was your plan to take down Diana?” Tim asked.

“Almost what she’s experiencing now” Dick replied, earning shocked looks. Dick nodded, “The plan was to inject her with something that causes neural and optical stimulations to exhaust her”

“What?” Wally asked dumbly.

Damian rolled his eyes, muttering idiot. “Bruce would show her stuff that wasn't really there and her effort to combat this enemy would tire her out”

Wally looked dumbfounded, “That's it?”

Dick sent his friend a look, “Aunt Diana is part god, Walls. She refuses to back down and can take on all of us. Clark is the only one who might cause her some problems. But if we can give her an enemy that doesn't tire like we do, then she would eventually tire and exhaust herself to the point of extreme weakness. She's a God; the only way to combat that is with a threat that's on her own level”

Wally looked uncomfortable with Dick’s analysis of Diana overlayed with theoretical attack plans of demise. Dick had never flaunted his brains when they were kids. Wally had more brawn out of either of them, but their compatibility seemed to diminish any differences that were there. Being reminded that Batman and Robin had finalized an individualized attack and take-down algorithm for every single hero they deemed worthy of labeling a potential threat…..it did something to Wally, almost like he was realizing who Dick had spent the last handful of years with all over again. But Wally knew he couldn't blame his discomfort on Deathstroke, he couldn't even say that Deathstroke brought out something darker in his best friend, because Dick had been raised by the Dark Knight, the symbol of justice being possible in a depraved world. Dick had always had this influence hanging over his head. Sure, Superman was a symbol of hope and justice, but Batman was the symbol of justice, another way for good people to admit that they did want revenge for the unjust things that had befallen them, while not creating more victims.

“We need to circle her and confirm her exact location” Damian ordered, “No more skirting around her approximate location” he sent a look at Tim who glared back.

Dick nodded, “That's all we can do until Batman arrives”

Jason rolled his eyes beneath his helmet, “Yea, yea. Everyone wants Bamtan’s approval first-”

“That's not it, Jay” Dick looked directly at him and Jason suddenly felt like he wasn't wearing a helmet.

“Whate-”

“He’s close” Tim looked down at the small device attached to his wrist. It pinged another set of coordinates, and Tim looked up, “Let’s get into position around the block. Don't make contact,” Tim warned, “And switch your comms to automatic, just in case”

Damian immediately called out the obvious, “Richard will need to stick with one of us to ensure he can be looped into our communication”

Wally nodded, “I can-"

“No” Dick looked at Wally like he was an errant child who should know better, “We’re about to fight an OG leaguer, and we’re splitting up? We’re already off to a bad start. Now you want to pair the 2 of the 3 metas together and leave the rest as a team of 1?”

Wally flinched at Dick's scathing admonishment. Jason scoffed, “I'm fine, don't hold my hand, Goldenboy.”

Dick smirked, “I know you are Jay. I’ll stick with Damian so-”

“No!” Damian called out reflexively. Everyone stopped and looked at the boy. Dick fell silent in surprise. Damian swallowed back the urge to keep his next thoughts to himself, “I…have your bag. You should not be …partnered with me. Stick with Drake, Father and I can co-op this attack together”

Dick searched Damian’s face for something for a few seconds. His expression didn't change, but there was something slightly disappointed in his eyes, “You’re right. We don't want you with me now, do we?” Damian’s eyes flew wide and he parted his lips to speak but Dick dipped his head, “Redrobin?” he encouraged Tim to take the lead.

They made their way down the street and slowly separated into their own groups. Jason took the south end of the intersection, Wally took the west, Tim and Dick took the east, and Damian waited for Batman so they could cover the north-facing side. Wonder Woman was still leaving a commotion in her wake, drawing attention with a discombobulated overuse of her strength and prowess, only to become enraged and confused when she was approached by civilians. A few cars were overturned and a street lamp was dented beyond repair. There were electrical poles with dangling wires, but no clear immediate danger that would force the boys out from their posts. They stayed quiet and close, closing the distance or widening it to accommodate Wonder Woman’s unclear pathways up and down the street.

It wasn't long before Batman arrived and instantly found his sons. Damian seemed hesitant, trying to announce Dick’s presence and strange cooperation without calling Dick out. Dick made it easier for him, “He knows Im here, Robin” before falling silent over Tim's comm line. Batman took command and Redrobin let him, lacking any and all experience with subduing a Leaguer of her and Bruce’s caliber. They listened as Robin and Redrobin updated Batman on what had happened, leaving out the details concerning Dick’s scavenger search through the old corporate Starr Labs headquarters. 

“He vowed to help us until she is contained” Damian reported. Bruce said nothing at first, “Where is Wilson?” he demanded gruffly.

Dick smirked, “I can pull his exact coordinates if you wanted, but the most I know is that he’s in Chile for a job. Haven't seen him since dinner 2 days ago"

That seemed to appease Batman for the moment but the discomfort didn't fade. Wally broached the subject of how to take down Wonder Woman, “Di-Reneg……We heard about the plan B- to tire out Wonder Woman”

Batman responded immediately, “There have been very few updates to that file on Diana, so yes, that would be the most foolproof plan but we have no way of knowing how forcing optical illusions onto her mind would react”

“You think both the chip and us forcing their way into her neural networks would hurt her?” Tim looked bothered.

“If not that, then the chip may have a defensive mechanism built into it to disable or overload if it senses foreign entities”

“What?” Wally balked, “It's so small though?!”

“The images and layout that Redrobin provided did offer some clarity. Your uncle believes they have 3 potential places to have ingrained software of that kind in the chip. It’s an extremely high munfctioning malware within a supercomputer”

“So what the hell are we supposed to do? When is Supes getting here?”

“He’s on his way,” Batman said gruffly.

“Amature” Damian tsked, “There's no point to ask needless questions in the field. Didn't your mentor teach you any better?”

“What?” Wally exclaimed.

“If you're going to waste any time and energy asking questions on a mission, then they need to be structured accordingly. Ask what his ETA is, because obviously Superman is coming to join us”

“I think that just wasted twice as much time as Kidflash, Robin" Tim replied over the comms. Damian scoffed and started spitting back how he was only ensuring their newest addition had proper standards for mission behavior. 

“Enough,” Batman barked, “Focus or-”

“Dick!” Tim cried out. Every jerked, looking to where Tim and Dick had been stationed on the second floor of a building to Wonder Woman’s left. They watched in disbelief as Dick threw himself out the window and dove down like a professional diver; flipping and swirling along the hard rush of the wind. 

“Nightwing!” Batman barked over their comms.

“The hell?” Jason cried with a tinge of outraged laughter.

“He-I dont know what he’s thinking?!” Tim defended, “He said we were taking too long and that he’d see me down there”

Wonder Woman, in her blazing red and gold uniform, looked up at the sound of shattering glass. She was momentarily blinded by the mid-day sun but took a step back as soon as the small dark bird evolved into a larger bigger threat; fast. She stepped back, uncertain but Dick’s descent was too instant. He landed on her and sent them both rolling, a crack left behind in the pavement. Wonder Woman gasped before a growl was pulled from her. They didn't even roll to a stop before Dick felt a sledgehammer meet his stomach and throw him back. His air left him as his back met a glass window of the first-story business behind him. He looked up to see Wonder Woman approaching his collapsed form.

“Hey Auntie D,” he groaned. Wonder Woman stared at him with cautious eyes. Her sleek dark hair was a frizzy mess and plastered to her forehead. Dick noted how heavily she was sweating despite not being out of breath, “ How are you feeling?” he asked politely.

“I-” she seemed unsure, “I have a headache,” she admitted.

Dick nodded, “Understandable, I can help with that though”

She looked down at his outstretched hand. Her gaze snagged on the glass at Dick’s feet before trailing the relative debris back to her feet. Her eyes pinched in frustration before she seemed to connect Dick with her momentarily forgotten assailant. She growled, her fists clenching and her biceps bulging in a way that only Wonder Woman could manage. Dick smiled, “Ok, so I guess I'm your distraction for the next” he checked his naked wrist, “Oh I dunno, however long it takes for Clark to get her- DAMN!” he dropped and rolled to avoid a sudden heel being brought down with unbelievable power, right where his head had been. Dick stopped and sprung up from a stop drop and roll.

Wonder Woman charged him and Dick did the first thing that came to mind: evade. He ducked, nearly falling into a full back bend as her fist met the air where his head had just been. He let his hands support his weight and kicked up and backward, forcing Wonder Woman to lean and avoid his boot. She came at him again, uppercutting and swinging with her full might. Determination was etched into her furious eyes and tight lips. Dick bobbed and weaved, ducking to avoid everything. He leaped over her head and threw himself in the air, falling into a somersault. He barely had half a second before she had turned and was in his face again, forcing himself him back on the defense.

While Dick was starting to break a sweat, Wonder Woman was merely losing her composure. She roared in aggravation, swiping at him again and again. Dick pulled out a fine line tactical wire and let her get close before he twisted sharply, catching her fingers just below the knuckles. Dick pulled taunt and tight, drawing a violent hiss from the hero. Her skin pinched and began to sweat red droplets as the wire sliced her skin. Dick pulled her left hand in, drawing her torso in as well, before he knocked back his elbow with considerable force. He felt the break of cartilage and assumed he’d broken her nose by the way it gave way.

Diana growled and twisted her hand until the metal wire was wrapped around her palm and thumb as well. With a more advantageous grip, she yanked with all her strength, sliding the wire from Dick’s hands. He hissed as the quick motion of the thin sharp material sliced through his palms. He clenched his hands and dug his nails into the very bottom of his palms in response, failing to combat that horrid sting. Diana ripped the wire from between her fingers and tossed it behind her, she growled and advanced on him, only to stop and drop into a crouch, bringing her arms up over her head in an X-like motion. Dick flinched as a loud sharp clang resonated off her and broke something off to the side, hitting the brick wall. A short flash of sparks flew from her wrists. 

Dick blinked, rapidly connecting the sharp clang with Diana’s bracelets of submission. As expected, they were bright and gold, shining off the sun above them but there wasn't a dent in sight. Dick jerked around and looked up, realizing that Jason had taken a shot. He smirked and offered a short wave, unsure of where exactly Jason was located. The air shifted around him and behind him, just enough to set off a trigger inside his muscles. He ducked and fell into a low squat, his stomach wound screaming when he tensed his core to maintain his balance. He kicked out, leaning back on his hands to land a blow to the front of Diana’s calves.

The soles of his feet instantly hated him for that rash decision as her armored legs shielded her from his boots and sent a sharp throng of vibrations up his feet and legs. He avoided another kick, swipe, and jab combination; landing a sideswipe in between. It only angered her. Dick found himself falling back into his defensive maneuvers by leaping over her head, using her shoulders and arms as unstable springboards. His constant, in-the-air motion was throwing her off balance and Dick was desperate to think of a way to use it to his advantage. He knew he wasn't as light as Tim, Wally, or Damian but swinging his entire body weight over her head and shoulders was forcing her torso to sway and her feet to firm up and overcorrect every time she looked up.

He gritted his teeth, knowing that he didn't have the right weapons to combat her at the moment. He could waste bullets on her, but Jason’s shot was a distraction meant to save him from a broken bone, not actually win the fight for him. Kryptonite wouldn't do any good and Dick was too cautious to throw his all into wrestling her. Diana was more than capable in close combat on the ground, but Dick didn't entirely trust himself not to harm her or overuse his strength if he felt threatened. Plus, he'd never pitted himself against a God. Slade was the closest he'd gotten and he knew that Wonder Woman had broken a few bones when she was first getting started on earth. He was saved from having to stoop to such measures when a hovering shadow descended over them. They both glanced up, panting.

“Clark?” Diana exclaimed.

“That's so unfair” Dick complained. He looked up at Superman, “All I got was a mean look!”

Superman looked surprised to see Dick but redirected his attention to Wonder Woman, “Diana” he said calmly. His feet touched the ground, “Are you ok?” he reached out for her which was the wrong thing to do. She jerked back and narrowed her eyes. “Diana” he tried again, “It's me, Clark. Do you remember what happened? You were attacked and have been missing. We’re here to-”

She lunged at Superman who avoided her by lifting into the air at the last minute. She landed on the cracked sidewalk, spotting Dick in place of her aggravation.

“Fuck”

She launched herself at him but Dick flipped backwards, landing in a handstand before kicking out with all his might. He landed a powerful blow to her chin which sent her flying back. Dick’s eyes widened as she hit a car and shattered glass down her shoulders, “Dick!” Superman barked in horror. Dick felt his cheeks burn. His throat moved to defend himself but he knew that was too strong a kick the instant he saw her fly back instead of tumbling away. Diana was quick to push herself up. She brushed the glass from her hair with a furious expression. Dick held up his hands, “Ok, I’ll admit I deserve to get punched now ”

Superman landed in front of her, “Diana, please lis-”

She lunged up and towards Superman, landing a blow to his chest. Superman slid back a handful of feet and winced. He looked back over his shoulder, “Connect with Batman and formulate a plan. I’ll try to keep listening, so talk loudly”

Dick nodded, taking Superman’s order as an offer to become the new distraction. Clark could handle her better as his avoidance tactics were just flying over her head instead of jumping six-plus feet every time. He backed away and made his way back to where he’d left Tim, turning to the building east of him. Before Dick could scale the crumbling outside, Wally was standing in front of him, “We’re over here now” he nodded to the opposite side of the street, “The others might get here late because they spotted someone who might be the assassin who attacked Diana in the first palace. They're tracking her now”

Dick nodded and followed him to the other side of the street. Bruce was standing at the head of their group and didn't miss a beat, “We just need one opening,” he said, “Our goal isn't to subdue her, it's to get her back to us long enough to hit her neck or find the chip and rip it off”

His gaze clambered up and down Dick’s form, noting the things that Dick’s brothers probably hadn't even thought to consider, “You're hurt” he said. Dick couldn't discern his tone but nodded, “I was shot”

“Twice”

“It was nothing”

“The bleeding stopped?”

“Obviously, look, Uncle Clark said he’ll try to listen to whatever plan we decide…on” Dick felt the air around them change and realized too late he’d said, Uncle Clark. He wanted to smack himself. He knew he couldn't expect to change some things and not others without throwing his friends and brothers off. To him, everyone was still the same, just older, but Dick had spoken without thinking, even calling Diana Auntie earlier, I have to be better about that, he thought. He fell quiet and Damian spoke, giving him a firm, knowing look, “West has food stashed on his person like a pig. We plan to have him eat everything and save up his energy for an incredibly quick attack. Wonder Woman will be unprepared, and dazed, post-hit. We will all converge on her and take the chip from her person then”

Wally’s freckles brightened, “That's one way to relay it” he muttered.

“That's if the chip is embedded in her skin or something” Tim added with slight worry.

Dick shook his head, “It is” he reassured, “They have a non-conductive surface on the bottom made for just sticking to the skin. I'm surprised it hasn't fallen off from her movement alone though, the chips aren't that advanced yet”

Bruce glowered, “You said you weren't well informed about the chips”

Dick crossed his arms, “I'm not, but like I've been reminded of…I’ve been a good little delivery boy in recent months and have had a chance to look at them a bunch. The bottoms are sticky and are probably hanging on to the peach fuzz everyone grows around their neck and face. They aren't little metal rats that bite you. They were designed to stick to stuff the same way bugs do”

Bruce’s lip ticked down but his accusation didn't go any further, “We’ll attack from various angles in groups of 2 but never one at a time. Understood?” Everyone nodded, “Robin and Redrobin, KIdflash and Redhood”

Everyone nodded and Dick looked at Bruce realizing he was pairing them together. A small, suffocated part of him hoped that Bruce wasn't verbally listing his and Batman's pairing out loud because he refused to say Dick’s name now. There were too many at this point: Dick, Richard, Nightwing, Reneagde….. He knew that all those made Bruce uncomfortable for a handful of reasons, and he probably thought the ones he would say would put Dick on edge. They didn't leave Superman on his own for long. As a single unit, they scaled their way down the street and joined the Caped Crusader, splitting off into their respective teams. Wally stationed himself behind Jason and a leeway dumpster to sit and wait, allowing his digestive system to reap the rewards of his scarfed down meal. Jason took point in front of him with his 2 guns and a handful of Batarangs. 

To their side, Damian and Tim worked as a single unit, relying on distanced ranged fighting as a distraction for Dick, Bruce, and Clark. They relied heavily on their bo-staffs, making sure to take turns consecutively to avoid hitting the other’s staff while spinning and rotating around in a flurry of well-practiced motion. They looked like a discombobulated mess of arms and legs, but their lack of entanglement and clanging metal proved otherwise. Superman, Batman, and Dick took to close range fighting, never allowing Diana a moment to breath. She was constantly on the move, defending from her left, right, and above. As anyone would expect from a founding Justice League member, she handled herself impeccably well, especially considering the disarray in her mind at the moment. 

Dick kicked out at her ankles, swooping into a low crouch and using his momentum to swing around for a second one, similar to when a sigure skater lowers their body for a greater spin. At the same time, Batman attacked head-on, swinging his gauntlet fists under then at her, forcing her to jump and defend at the same time. She stumbled when Dick spoun around her for a second low kick, her surprise was only heightened by Clark swooping down from above to toss her to the ground. She rolled with the attack and sprung back up to her feet with little time wasted. She instantly crossed her wrists in front of her face to deflect Jason’s occasional bullets. Clark and Bruce both turned on Jason but he already had the middle finger up, “Their sedatives, chill the fuck out”

Damian and Tim swept high and low at the same time, stunned to see Wonder Woman leap over one and bend her back into an incredibly arch to avoid the overhead attack. For a few brief moments, she was airborne and spinning nearly horizontal. She kicked out in a split and hit both boys in the midsection while their arms were up for the attack. Damain dropped with a huff while Tim fell back a few feet, clutching his stomach. Batman threw a batrang at her head, which Dian caught, but the moment her fingers deftly grasped the black bat wing, a small grey smoke was forfecully expunged into her face. She cpoughed and stumbled back, unprepared for Dick to throw himslef onto her back like gorilla. Batman met her face on while Dick had her staggering for balance and aprtially distracted. 

Wonder Woman met his attack with an unsteady fist, their knuckles grazing as Dick wrapped his thighs under her armpits and threw his upper torso to the side. She growled and reached up, grasping his lower section and ripping him off her shoulders with a furious holler. Dick went soaring but turned the motion into a flip, using Bruce’s waiting outstretched hands as a spring board to leap over his father’s head. Batman hefted his shoulders, giving Dick a safe spur of distance. Diana charged Bruce the moment he was occupied with supporting Dick, but Clark intercepted her. He barrelled into her and grasped her tight around the midsection. She struggled and ripped her arms wide, throwing Superman back and away. He flew at her again, but she was ready and accepted his airborne tackle, twisting them until she had access to his fluttering cape. She wrapped her hands in the material and swung with a mighty cry, throwing him off and away into the building across the street. Dick’s eyes went wide, wondering if she wa still holding back on those she knew to be non- enhanced. Dick was the only other one she had punched head on but she hadn’t broken anything.

Dick looked behind himself to see Wally watching their fight from the alley way. He was crouched in a starting runner’s pose, his gaze watching Diana for the perfect opening. A shout had Dick moving, narrowly avoiding an attack to himself at the last second. He followed the direction of the projectile to find Jason clutching his shoulder, “Fuck” he rasped. Alarm screamed through Dick before he had a second to consider what had hit jason instead of him. He was at his brother’s side a second later, stabilizing him to look at the wound. A small, slim object was stuck in Jason’s shoulder. Jason blinked exageratedly and gripped Dick back to keep his balance. He reached up and yanked the small projectile out of his shoulder, “S' fine” he slurred, “Just my own fucking sedative” he barked out a laugh, cursing when the movement caused him to wobble again, “Jus' my luck”

Dick clutched his brother back, lowiering him back against the wall behind them. His hackles lowered when it was clear Diana had deflected a stray bullet of sedative back at Jason. The small bullet lay at their feet, too narrow for most barrels, with a small fat needle pointing out the top. Dick cringed and Jason spoke, “Don't worry, Dickhead. My leathers kept it from injecting too fast”

Dick schooled his features, “Good” he said, letting his brother assume what he wanted to. A sudden sound drew Dick’s attention over his shoulder to where Batman and Superman were still trying to corner Wonder Woman. Clark was still making attempts to speak to Diana but her responses were confused and angry. Vaguely Dick wondered if she was being shown delusions that were affecting her ability to differentiate truth from not. Or if the Light had configured a way to whisper words into her ear, to make her wonder if her own thoughts were betraying her and her body. Jason cursed and leveraged himself up and against the wall better. Dick let him go, appeased that he was only slightly affected but entirely safe. He glanced across the way to where their spat had originated from and saw where Damian and Tim were crouched. Dick felt something inside calm a little easier to see them awake and safe. They were both crouched with a slight grimace, whether that was from their own injuries or over their opinion of how poorly their group was succeeding, Dick just cared that they were well.

A guttural roar from Wonder Woman had Dick whipping back to his left in time to see her intercept a swinging kick from Batman. She grasped his ankle, forcing him to stop the obvious punch that was prepped to follow up the initial attack. She grasped his calf as well and turned with both feet, swinging Bruce up and away from her. He was launched bodily into the sky and across the street, forcing a cry from Damian and Tim across the street.

Superman stopped his aerial attack and launched himself at Batman to catch him before he collided with the second story of the nearest building. Dick leaped forward, taking the opportunity of her obvious distraction. Diana was still turned in the direction she had tossed Bruce over her shoulder so Dick went for the first weakness he could spot. He kicked out at the back of her knees. She buckled in surprise, her fists flying to defend herself, but Dick was quick, grappling her to the ground until both of his legs were wrapped around her stomach and thighs. Her stomach was flush to the ground so Dick made sure to pin her arms flat agaisnt the ground with her palms up, limiting any movement she could wield to force herself up. She bucked and threw her head back, almost nailing Dick, but was unable to throw him off at first. He melded his body to her as seamlessly as he could, feeling his muscles burn hot and then cold, eating through his morning blue shot. He gritted his teeth as she overpowered him eventually and twisted to nail him in the face with a graceing elbow.

Dick fell to the side but knew he couldn't allow her distance or time. He scrambled to his feet and met her head on, only to be met with an icy wall of dread. Wonder Woman had pulled out her lasso of truth and was only a few feet into lengthening a loop for him, but Dick was frozen nonetheless. The illuminated golden rope had never been used on him before, but he'd seen it used on others. The way some people struggle with their inner truth, or the truth of their crimes, to the point of pain was something Dick would never forget. It was something that most people might only be able to think up inside their minds. To imagine someone's truth displayed so blatantly that they crumbled-it made Wonder Woman look like the messenger, not the source of their pain. Dick couldn't imagine the pain that lasso would cause him when he refused to admit the things he couldn't even consider in his waking hours.

The lasso was no joking matter, it wasn't even a matter of will. Diana was an alien amazonian goddess, birthed from gods that mortals on earth could barely comprehend past Greek and Roman foretellings. Her weapons weren't anything to scoff at or disregard. Dick found himself rooted to the floor, his heart stuttering at the thought of having to face it in front of the others-the only truth he could admit easily. It would undoubtedly get tighter and tighter until his heart was beating up and out of his throat to bare his darkest most treacherous thoughts and feelings. The dark, deprived feelings that he still couldn't put words or proper names to.

He knew some of his long hidden list would land him in a mental institution, and others would only make Slade proud, but Dick was shamed of them all. All the dark, salacious satisfactions he smothered and all the bloodied gore that buzzed a smile within him. He had the sudden urge to take a step back, something- anything, to put distance between himself and that glowing death of all his secrets, when he was saved by a rush of a yellow wind. Dick jolted as Wally sped by him too quickly to make out anything other than his yellow suit, even his bright red hair was nonexistent at his rate of speed. Wonder Woman, who had been steadily progressing toward Dick, was too focused on her lasso maneuvers and Dick’s form to prepare for Wally; much less combat him.

They met with a loud clash of grunts and skin. Wally slid to a stop just as Diana went flying into the car behind her, flipping it, and her, before she rolled and tumbled to the floor. Dick hadn't witnessed Superman’s movements after rescuing Batman but he was on her in an instant. Slamming into her figure so hard that the concrete beneath them cracked. He kneeled beside her, pinned the soft part of her thighs, and laid the rest of his weight after her wrists and torso. Wally joined in a flash to help, and Batman rushed to join them as well. Dick jerked, realizing he was just standing there watching them all. He sprinted over, nearly tripping over the curb. 

Diana was lurching and wrestling Superman as best she could, but she most likely had a concussion on top of her foreignly influenced mind and now had Wally, Clark, and the Dark Knight to compete with. By the time Dick reached their side, Batman had gathered her sweaty hair to one side and pinched the skin around the chip. It was a small thing, about a few inches in either direction and it was suctioned to the skin of her neck well. Dick watched as Bruce disreagreded all else and pinched the top left of the chip, pulling it up and then back. The metal the chip was built with wasn't very flexible and resembled the alloy that most motherboards and processors use, so it came off in one piece. The glue that Dick had suspected was there, along with tiny microplastic teeth, had bitten into the hairs and top layer of her skin. They were curved in and to the side, designed to dig into soft tissue more and more with every movement.

The tiny holes began to swell and bleed as Bruce ripped the chip from her neck, but besides that, she was relatively alright. Diana blinked and coughed, her hand instantly reaching for the pain at the base of her neck. Clark swatted her hand away but jerked when she suddenly fell limp. He looked down to find that Batman had sedated her with a needle that looked overly short and relatively close to what Jason had been shooting.

Batman felt Superman’s glare, “This is the safest way to transition and transfer her to a secure location. Yell at me later. We need to discern any lasting side effects before we allow her free reign. Flash needs to have her bios scanned too”

Superman didn't look happy in the least, but he didn't argue any further, “I’m taking her to the Watchtower. Radio the others and update them”

Batman nodded and stood as Superman carefully gathered Diana in his arms. He looked down at her breathing before he nodded to himself. He looked up at Bruce and noticed Dick at his side, “Are you going to be o-”

“I’ll handle it and radio you after. We will need to meet tonight to discuss everything,” Batman reported gruffly. Superman glanced at Dick before looking down to his lower stomach. His expression softened as he met Dick's gaze head on before he nodded and stepped back. He lifted into the sky and set off. They watched him go for a second before Dick turned back to attend to his brothers. Wally stopped him before he could take a step, “Rob? Are you okay? What was that?”

Dick knew it was fruitless and stupid to try anyway but he denied it before he could think of a berrer response, “What was what?”

Wally frowned, “Dude, you froze when she pulled out the lasso. You've seen it before; we all have. What happened?”

Dick felt lost on how to respond. He loved Wally dearly but his emotional capacity at times frustrated DIck to no end. His defensiveness and insecurity got the better of his loose lips before he could control himself, “The Lasso of Truth, Walls. You tell me why I didn't want to be lassoed”

Wally looked creatfallen at Dick’s tone before his words sunk in and a monotone expression overfell his features, wiping away any semblance of compassion he’d managed for Dick’s moment of weakness. Dick knew it wasn't right, he knew he shouldn't resent Wally for suddenly remembering who and what he was, especially after being rebuked for showing concern, but Dick couldn't handle the soft emotions of his best friend at the moment. The gentle approaches and gestures that once came easy to him only set him on edge.

Slade was his life now…and there was nothing soft about Slade. The man was bloody, ruggard, and bruttish. Compassion and benevolence had no place in Dick’s life so to see it suddenly demanded of him was startling and much easier to shut down than to reciprocate. He almost felt like a therapy book for children, to acknowledge that it was easy and felt better to be cold and cruel than to be open and considerate. 

Without a word he turned and made his way to Damian and Tim. The two had kept an eye on their fight and were nearly to them, Damian was supporting Tim slightly, “Are you okay?” Dick started initiating stomach and chest contacts to look for broken ribs or internal bleeding.

“I’m fine, Dick” Tim said breathlessly.

“1 bruised rib,” Damian reported with an eye roll.

Dick smiled, “Good job, Robin”

For his brother’s sake, he ignored the flush that covered his cheeks, “Are you alright?”

Damian nodded, “I feel some bruising but nothing is broken” he looked past Dick to where Bruce and Wally were most likely stonewalling his back. Dick sighed, seeing the change in his brothers’ expressions, “Go check in. I’ll get Jay. The idiot shot himself with his own tranq”

Tim snickered, “I saw Aunt D deflect on him”

Damian sneered, “And you wonder why Redhood has never impressed me” he muttered. Dick made his way over to where Jason was propped against the wall. His legs were stretched out and he was staring at Dick in a dazed manner, “I can't feel my legs” he mumbled angrily.

Dick resisted a laugh that bubbled in his stomach, “I believe you”

Jason snorted, “That's jus' ‘cause you're gullible”

Dick dropped down to his haunches, “You feelin’ okay, Jay? You got hit with a sedative made for Wonder Woman. That’s a little heavy duty”

“M’ fine”

“Uh huh”

“I am!”

“Suuuuure”

“I'm gonna fuckin' kick your ass-”

Dick chuckled, “Yea, yea. I believe that too” 

He moved to throw Jason’s arm over his shoulder, but when he looked up, he found his dad and brothers standing in front of him. Batman looked out of place standing in front of a backdrop of splintered cars, empty streets, and cracked buildings. Especially during the day. The shining sun above their heads did nothing except highlight the largest puddles of broken glass.

“We need to talk”

Dick felt his withering patience nearly diminish. His brothers and Wally surrounded him and Dick told himself that they were tired and agitated, not intentionally cornering him. Dick cocked his head, “Really?”

Tim sighed, “Dick-”

Dick sighed louder, “Timmy-”

“Dick!” Wally snapped.

Dick dropped the act and stood. He leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms. He looked back at Bruce expectantly, “Well?”

Bruce frowned, “Dick, Be reasonable. We need to talk. You obviously know much more about these chips than you’ve let on, and the Light is starting to field test their work”

Dick didnt blink, “No shit”

Bruce dipped his chin and the thin white slits of his cowl seemed to narrow even further, “Don't make this difficult Dick. Come back to the cave with us so we can talk this out and-”

“No” Dick pushed off the wall, finding a strangled sense of satisfaction when Wally took a step back to combat his step forward, “I'm kind of on a schedule and I've already been delayed and cohereced into more than I wanted today”

“Richard, you know helping us was the right thing to do”

Dick smiled, “It was, Dami. But don't call a dog a cat. You guys blackmailed and forced me to cooperate. I don't appreciate that”

Damian scowled in return, “You cannot leave without your belongings. We all know this” he laid a hand on the duffle bag strap that was tightened around his thin frame. Dick frowned slightly when something over their shoudlers caught his attention. Dick’s eyes bulged obscenly and he gasped. Everyone whipped around to combat the unknown enemy but only found a desolate and broken business parkway street. Batman was the first to realize the petty trick and whipped back around. The others followed seconds later to find Dick halfway up the building he’d been leaning against, “Richard!” Damian barked, “Enough! I have your papers! Come down!”

Dick stopped where he was and clung to a shattered windowsill precariously, his finger tips and boots dictating his balance and weight. He leaned back and patted himself down with a free hand, “Huh? Hold on!” he called.

“The hell?” Wally murmured.

They watched as Dick scaled the remainder of the building before throwing himself over and onto the rooftop. A second later Dick peered over the roof ledge, “These papers?” he waved a handful down at them. Damian sputtered and yanked the duffle bag around to his front. He ripped it open and dug around, only to find empty ammo mags, spare deodorant, some pocket knives, and crumpled pieces of paper. Damian snatched one and scanned it, only to realize it wasn't related to Dr. Amanik. He snatched another and frantically read it before doing so to the rest. 

Damian looked back to Tim and Wally, utterly lost. Tim looked down at the papers with a frown, remembering how Dick had grabbed a handful of papers and stuffed them into his bag when it was clear that reinforcements were on the way. He had this plan b in his back pocket the moment he realized we'd insert ourselves, Tim realized. Dick had never vetted those papers when he decided to keep them. He then, personally gave Damian his duffle bag and fitted it to the young boy's shoulders. Bruce understood the basics of what Dick had pulled on his brothers and clenched his fists, “Dick! Don't do this. You’ll be reaping the consequences if the Light is allowed to maintain their advantage!”

Dick smiled, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, B!”

He ducked back over the edge of the roof and they waited with bated breaths when Jason groaned at their feet, “He's not fuckin’ comin’ back,” he slurred, “At least he probably won't bill me now”

Bruce looked down at him sharply, "What?"

Chapter 36

Notes:

Hey there!

Bear with me, there's gonna be more jumps and some pretty long ch's.

“All I'm saying is that I think I should do my own laundry from now on” Dick stated. He fixed the edges of his suit collar, peering into the bathroom mirror to make sure they were even on either side of his neck. 

He heard Slade zipping himself up behind him, “Wintergreen acts as my aid in nearly every capacity I need him to. If household work is where he is required because I'm away on a job, then that’s what he’ll do”

Dick grumbled, “He keeps putting starch in my laundry…”

Slade chuckled and came to stand beside Dick at the glossy sink. He fixed the edges of his untucked shirt, “Then I would suggest you quell your temper and crude language around him”

Dick rolled his eyes, “He and Alfred are soulmates” he muttered under his breath. 

“Besides,” Slade continued. He fixed his own cuff link and slid his jacket back onto his broad shoulders, “You have a date to be getting back to”

“Oh, right” Dick agreed with mock eagerness. Slade stepped behind him and began to fiddle with his collar. He wiped away some excess moisture lingering on his nape. Dick cringed when he saw the state of his neck before Slade refitted it and fixed something he couldn't see, “The date I never agreed to”

Slade’s hot breath washed over the back of his neck in one fast puff, “Yes,” he purred, “That date”

The man reached past Dick and turned on the sink faucet to a low trickle. He ran his fingers under the warm water before bringing them up to Dick’s mussed hair, “Don't be nervous” he purred in a velvety manner, “You know I'm always watching”

Dick felt his cooling body reheat at the sensual threat. Slade’s free hand traveled from his shoulder to his neck and rested just under his chin. He tipped Dick’s head back until he was looking up at Slade from behind. The man’s black eyepatch and trimmed goatee greeted him with a dark rapacity. Dick felt rather than saw Slade’s wetted hand come up to stroke through his scalp, hairline to nape. Dick didn't resist the full-body shudder that the trickle of water brought on. His skin, which had been nearly cooled, seemed to prickle with whispers of heat again. Slade’s features stayed firm and in place but Dick saw gluttony transix itself to his face all the same. The rapt attention the older man gave his every reaction was addicting on a level that Dick despised. 

Dick knew it was unnecessary when Slade curved his fingers to scratch along his scalp before finally releasing him. he straightened to see Slade had done a fairly adept job at slicking back his hair, God knows he needed it. He assumed that his date wouldn't be too keen on the idea that Dick had gone to the bathroom and come back looking ravaged before he’d even taken her upstairs.

He smirked at Slade in the mirror, “Well,” he pulled away, “Like you said. I have a date to get back to”

He left without a glance back, feeling Slade’s single steel grey eye on him until the bathroom door fell closed. He proceeded down the hotel lobby and back into the cocktail party. Upon entrance, he gave Anatoly a customer nod of greeting. The man smiled as Dick re-entered the party. He lifted his 5th glass of wine at him before returning to his conversation. Dick smoothly made his way back to the bar where Annastaia was waiting for him, “Sorry about that Anna”

She turned to him, acting surprised at his return. Dick knew from her tensed position and methodical tapping that she had been waiting on his return, “I hate to admit what a weak stomach I have for certain things”

She arched a brow, her long dark eyelashes complimenting her nearly black sleek hair, “Then why did you accept a glass?”

Dick smiled and shook his head. He re-seated himself at the bar beside her, noticing the thigh slit in her blue lace floor gown had ridden up even further as she crossed her legs, “It wasn't the wine I'm afraid. It was the olives. I have a soft spot for snacking, but these are drenched in vinegar and well…” Dick made an embarrassed gesture down the hallway where the bathrooms were located.

She offered him a smile, “Don't worry about it. I’m not my father, so you don't have to worry about me thinking you’re less of a man because you get stomach aches”

Dick chuckled, feeling the forced politeness of her tone in the way her lips pulled up and back every few words. She's reminding herself to smile.

Dick flashed her a grin and leaned closer, “That's a relief. I was really hoping not to have to go through that testosterone level test”

Her eyes went wide, and concern marred her lips, “What?” she exclaimed as politely as possible. Dick eyed her and grinned. She narrowed her eyes, “Ok, ok. Very funny Richard”

“Please” he reminded, “Call me Dick”

“Is that so others will remember you have one?”

Dick clutched his chest and leaned back, “My heart! I'm wounded!” He leaned in closer and spoke in a whisper, “And my balls too”

She let loose a snort before she could contain it. Dick grinned, feeling like a cat; and loving it. In line with how successful he was feeling, her body language began to mirror his, leaning into him more often. Dick knew he had her when she rotated in her seat to face him instead of turning her head. He knew she thought she was holding out or being seductive by not facing him full on, a partial offering of her attention, but Dick was determined to hook her. In his periphery, he noticed Slade re-entering the gathering as well, but he didn't turn to acknowledge him. He turned to mirror Anna’s body language to make himself more open and welcoming, “You know,” he started, “While this might be a rather lame party. It's still a party”

She glanced around them and took another sip, “It is,” She agreed disdainfully, “So?”

“Sooooo” Dick glanced down the bar to see it was void of attendants at the moment. He reached over and plucked a fresh bottle of alcohol from under the counter, “Every party needs party tricks and party favors”

He pulled a handful of napkins from the counter and then a glass of olives and small plastic skewers. She eyed his gathered items with interest and motioned for him to continue, “Impress me, Mr. Wilson”

Dick grinned, “Challenge accepted”

2 hours later, Anna was slapping her hands on the table in outrage, “How did you do that!? I should've won that time”

Dick grinned mischievously and flipped the coin to reveal another one in his other hand. She gasped, “You cheat!”

Dick shook his head, “Technically we didn't say no cheating, so I’m not breaking any rules”

She glared mutinously at him, “You made the rules” she ticked up a finger, “And every game has the unspoken rule of no cheating. Cheating should never need to be clarified”

“And yet here we are” Dick teased, "So I'd beg to differ"

She growled and shook her head at him, but Dick could see the coy smile she was poorly suppressing. She accepted another rose wine and looked at him curiously, “You know,” she said, “You haven't asked me to dance once tonight; that's quite un-gentlemanly of you”

Dick smiled and cocked his head, “I didn't think you'd want to” he admitted.

She offered him a look. Dick held up his hands, “Honest!” he tried, “Your heels look awful tall and your dress isn't one of those ones that flourishes when you spin so I thought tonight was a sit and look pretty kind of night”

She  looked stunned at his observations, “You're not too far off” she admitted, “You're not at all what I expected, Dick”

Dick smiled charmingly, “You're exactly what I was hoping for” he returned.

She blushed and took another long sip, “So you were given an option then? To come tonight?”

Dick looked at her curiously, “Did I offend you?”

Anna shook her head quickly, “No, I’m merely curious. If I'm being honest, I wasn't given much of a choice in attending tonight”

Dick wiped fake panic sweat from his forehead, “That's a relief” She smiled at his humor, “To answer your question...I may be in a similar boat as to the peer pressure my mentor placed on me to attend, but I can't say I was in a rush when I saw your picture”

She looked at him questioningly, “To leave,” he clarified, “I've had a much more enjoyable time than I expected….and the view really is to die for”

She blushed again and Dick smirked at her, tilting his chin down ever so slightly, “My father and I have had a strange relationship ever since I turned 16. We all know his balls are as dry as the desert so I am his only true heir, his last shot at a legacy if you will” she swirled her wine, “I think that is why my father has started to cater to me more, but each gift comes with expectations”

“I love gifts with strings attached,” Dick said dryly. She nodded, “Exactly. Anyway, I think it’s just that he wants to place me within his company in a particular way, but he’s realized that I’m not like my mother. Not in the way he’d like”

Dick held his tongue from inquiring the wrong way. He knew cultures varied and old money made people normalize certain things, but he didn't want to speak too soon, "What do you mean by that?”

She shrugged, “Just that daughters are never quite as forgiving as mothers. A lesson my father is struggling with, it seems. I’m sure you understand-every family has their own dynamics but they’re all similar enough”

Dick dipped his head, “I'm sorry. I'd love to relate but I've been an orphan all my life. Mr. Wilson really has taken over and given me much”

Her eyes widened, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stated something so ignorant”

He brushed it aside, “Please, don't be sorry. It is what it is. But I haven't had the emotional maturity of very many women in my life so please take pity on me if I do misstep in conversation. I've had far more pseudo-dads in my life than mothers”

She looked at him differently, her dark eyes raking over his suit-clad figure, “You really are an enigma, Richard”

He grinned, “I'm sorry for the pity party, please continue”

She looked uncertain and Dick felt a strange sensation overcome his senses. The look on her face conveyed genuine empathy over what he’d said and guilt over moving on from him too quickly. She didn't want to appear cold and dismissive but Dick had a feeling she wasn't as superficial as her father. She did with some more encouragement from Dick, “Well, not to shine the spotlight on myself but I just meant that my father obviously wished for a male if he was only to get one child. The only benefit to me not having a dick, Dick” he waggled his eyebrows at her, “Is that he can marry me off. If that is his intention, then I made it clear that I won't accept anyone too ugly or too old. If I'm to be robbed of choosing someone of character, then I want them to at least be appealing to look at”

Dick nodded, understanding what she meant. She was grasping at any form of control she could in this power play between her and her father. She eyed Dick like he was a slab of meat that had been hung to dry and cure for a 5-star restaurant, “So far, he’s made that happen more than adequately”

Dick felt his own cheeks burn over the way she said it. The contradicting heat that lit up his insides over being objectified really should have raised more red flags in Dick’s mind. To distract himself, he leaned in closer than he had all night, “Well, you do know what I do for Mr. Wilson, don’t you?”

She nodded once, “You’re quite the accomplished militia distributor”

Dick smirked, “That's the nicest way I've ever heard someone say gun trafficking, Anna”

Her pupils dilated when he said her name and Dick hated how much he loved the rush of satisfaction it gave him. The power that such simple vocabulary allowed him. She crossed her arms, refusing to lean back, “Don't be so modest. You think you can scare me off after seeing what my father has done? Besides, part of the reason my father is so interested in doing business with Mr. Wilson is not only his discreetness but his ability to make certain things appear as nothing but legal”

“On paper” Dick agreed.

“On paper”, she purred like they were sharing a secret.

“That is a relief,” Dick remarked, “Because I was worried you’d be bothered by what I do. That I’d be too bloodied for you”

She smirked at him and leveled her jaw, “Bodily fluids don't bother me” 

“Well, if that’s the case…” Dick leaned in to whisper sensually in her ear and, despite the gap between his lips and her ear, he could see and feel her audible shudder. He pulled back to find her breathing had slightly picked up, and her cheeks were splotchy with more than alcohol. Seeing his opportunity to solidify things, he looked at the clock above the bar, “It’s getting rather late. Would you mind if I escorted you back to your rooms?”

Dick saw the way she forced herself to take her time, the way she clenched her jaw and tensed her stomach before lightly accepting his hand, “Much appreciated” was all she said.

Dick held her stand and started to escort her to the elevators across the room. He placed a hand on the small of her back and resisted the urge to smirk when she leaned into the contact. It was almost child's play. He looked up, feeling unexpected attention on him, when he spotted Slade. The man was speaking with Anatoly and 2 other men, but his attention was strictly on Dick. Slade wasn't the one taking Dick upstairs to be stripped and scourged, but the way the mercenary ate up his figure sure felt like it. Slade’s hungry gaze drew down and up before he smirked at Dick. The white-haired man took a slow leisurely sip of his white wine and Dick swore that the heat from the bathroom came rushing back tenfold.

He ripped his gaze away as he sensed them nearing the elevators and moved to take off his jacket. They entered together and Anastasia turned to him, “Are you warm?” she asked.

Dick shook his head, desperate to regain control, to rip himself away from those moments where all he could see was the hulking god of a man and steel grey. The elevator doors clicked close and Dick leaned in, running a hand up her neck to thumb her pulse softly. She exhaled breathlessly and Dick almost looked over his shoulder as he felt the ghost of strong firm hands against his nape. It had to have been the heat of his skin and the hotel’s air conditioning because it felt like those sure hands took strong measured strokes down his back before disappearing into a nothingness that only left Dick yearning. A ghost that Slade's lingering look had conjured all on his own.

He forced a slight grin as he leaned down to kiss her. He felt her place her hands inside his jacket to start running small soft hands up and down his chest. For all that Dick tried he couldn't not feel those larger hands at his back, no matter how much he focused on the real person in front of him, he could only remember the prickles on his nape and the rush of heat as the larger bore over him and-

Dick nearly snarled at those hands-at the spitefully smug man in the lobby. Slade’s warning of always watching came back to Dick but he forced himself to forget the mercenary to regain control over Anatoly’s daughter. He allowed her to peruse his chest as he placed her forearms against the wall above her head and continued their kiss, deepening it with long strokes of his tongue and sharp nips every now and then. The phantom hands reappeared and refused to leave. All Dick could do was lean into them and clench his fists over the smaller wrists in his grip and accept the invisible devastation.

___________________________________________________________

 

The next morning found Slade and Dick flying back to North America. Slade offered him a teasing look, “You look well rested”

Dick crossed his arms, “I am actually”

He kicked his feet up on the chair in front of him knowing his dirty boots on Slade’s white leather would rub the man the wrong way, “Not that it’s any of your business” he added lightly. He frowned as the mercenary turned on the overhead AC blast. He reached up to turn it off just as quickly, goosebumps littering his skin in seconds. Slade smirked but didn't push. Instead, he lowered himself into the seat beside his student and handed him a folder, “Review this. I want your report of the situation before we move in”

Dick accepted it with a nod and sat straighter. He’d woken to a message from Slade that it was time to move on so Dick had quietly packed his things and left a note for Anna with a number to one of his many phones, “Who is this from?” Dick asked. Dick hadn’t heard much from the Light recently, besides Luthor expressing his displeasure over Dick’s breaking and entering being so chaotic that the backup guards were called in. He was even more displeased when he learned that Dick put all of them in the hospital. Slade humored very little of the man’s complaints. He stated that Luthor was lucky Dick left them alive at all before cutting the connection.

Usually, Slade’s reports started with a rundown of what, why, and where. The who or the payer was always included too, “There’s no name” Dick flipped through the pages again.

Slade nodded, “An anonymous request through one of the many blacklisted job channels I keep up to date on”

“Anonymous?” 

Slade nodded, “It’s rare but not unheard of. I ran into many more of these offers in the '80s. They pay double or triple what the job should cost, and in return, they are exculpated of all relation to this crime. Nowadays, most people don't have the funds to request such anonymity, so they offer as much as they can, and in return, I ensure there is effort put behind keeping their name and face away from the job”

“But no assurance,” Dick said. Slade nodded, “The only thing I was able to confirm was that whoever posted the hit and funds did so in North America, most likely America or Canada”

Dick flipped through the contract packet again, noting that they were flying to a small town just east of Quebec. He turned to the next page and blinked upon seeing how much Slade was being paid to kill 1 man and keep another’s out of the news, “Oh”

Slade chuckled, “Yes…. Oh is correct”

“I mean, not that a contract isn't a contract, but are you really ok with letting such a rich guy stay so secretive?”

Slade eyed him with pride, “I have Wintergeen working on some backchannels right now. I’ll leave him be for now and respect the contract, but after the hit is complete, I have no obligation to respect his wishes to remain faceless and nameless”

Dick dipped his head to return to the hit report when Slade spoke one last time, “I’m also expecting your report on your previous mission as well. Including why you were so heavily delayed”

Dick glared down at the report in his hands, “You know why I was late”

“Your report, apprentice. I’ll expect it by the end of the week”

Dick took a breath to keep from ruining the folder in his hands, “Yes Master”

He heard the clink of ice cubes against Slade’s preferred tumbler before the man finally let him be. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason was on his way back from the docks in Bludhaven when he felt it again. The awareness of something other, something that he wasn't already aware of. He knew the street he was on well. He knew it wasn't trash day, and that there were 2 auto shops along his path and one abandoned refrigeration factory, leaving 3 large dumpsters along the street. He knew that there were stray cats but never stray dogs out here, and yet, there was something…someone that he wasn't aware of.

Jason focused his eyes down, feeling the hair along his nape prickle with unease. He shoved his hands further into his pockets and continued walking at the same pace. Either he was losing it, or someone was blatantly watching him. Jason made a split-second decision to turn left up ahead instead of continuing 4 blocks north where the subway station entrance lay. He didn't see anything out of place in his periphery, but the feeling didn't go away. He tried his best to make sure his shoulders stayed low and appeared lax as he turned the corner. The second he was out of sight, he spun around, armed himself with his gun, and continued making footsteps sounds. His boots were already rough and somewhat noisy against the cracked sidewalk, so Jason made sure to take heavy steps in place and twist his heel against the ground for good measure.

He waited longer than he expected and nearly lowered his gun in doubt. He was proven right a few moments later when he heard the soft, sure steps of someone walking quickly but carefully. His pursuer rounded the corner and halted, realizing he’d been caught.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason snapped

“Hello, Jason” Lincoln greeted coldly. Despite Jason’s wishes for the talon to have miraculously combusted and died, he stood before Redhood looking rather well-kept. His cropped brown hair had grown out slightly but still wouldn't be considered long, and his face was clean of facial hair and grime. The thing that stood out most was his lack of uniform. Jason had only ever seen the man in his black suit and goggles. The particular shine of gold was still off-putting to Jason even years later. Now, Lincoln Marsh stood in front of Jason in cargo pants, boots, and a simple hoodie. Even the act of placing his hands in the jacket’s pockets looked out of place to Jason, like Lincoln had never truly proven he knew how to act or appear human, much less be humane.

Jason cocked his gun when Lincoln fell silent and watched him. His gold eyes seemed darker, but Jason wasn't sure if that was from the overcast clouds covering the East Coast today. Lincoln slowly retracted his hands from his dark purple jacket.

“I didn't ask if you were fucking armed, asshole. I asked what you wanted. You’ve been following me for a while now, so what is it? Wasn’t enough to fuck up Dick’s life, you wanna go down the chain of command?”

Lincoln’s brow furrowed slightly, but his brown eyes held the same detached expression, “No. I'm not here for you”

Jason nodded, “Oh, I see. You’re here for the biweekly basura meeting?” he nodded to the large overflowing dumpsters across the street. Lincoln’s expression fell flat at Jason’s insult, “No, I’m not here to attack or harm anyone. I’ve been acting as surveillance-”

Jason’s gun was in Lincoln’s face a second later, “To protect Richard” Lincoln finished tightly. He eyed the gun, unable to disguise his discomfort.

Jason blinked, “Really? Ooooh ok, why didn't you just say so? Here, let me give you his address and calendar. I’ll even throw in his social secu-”

“I'm not kidding, Jason-”

“The fuck you are” Jason snapped, “You don't kidnap my brother, twice , and turn him into a fucking zombie only to lose and say you wanna protect him”

Lincoln cleared his throat, “It is the truth. I will not deny that I have been an accomplice to William’s greater plans, but that doesn't mean I never wanted greatness for Richard. I made his time at the Court and his reconditioning process as painless as possible. I was there for him when none of yo-”

Jason fired his gun, and the bullet snagged the brick wall inches from Lincoln’s face. The man flinched in surprise and his hands snapped up in defense. Jason felt a sense of satisfaction over the chunks of brick and sharp shrapnel spray leaving bloody marks across Lincoln's face. Jason stepped forward and swore that the black trashcan across the street was suddenly green, “The only reason I wasn't there was because you. Took. Him. From. Us” he said deliberately. He blinked again, and Lincoln’s eyes were a dark, murky green. Jason didn't have a word to describe the feeling inside him. The one that made him hot all over, but cold when he clenched his fists and jaw. The same feeling that had his throat tight and anger so prevalent that it didn't feel like anger…it felt like his insides had merely been coated in black, “You killed Dick”

Lincoln nodded, “While I did not take his life on our first introduction, I will acknowledge my part in his numerous deaths while transitioning as Talon”

Lincoln eyed Jason’s face more than his hand, “But I am not here for apologies. As much as I am aware you would like one…I’m here for the safety of Richard Grayson”

Jason grinned in a manic manner, “Oh damn, am I gonna love killing you”

Lincoln’s eyes went wide, realizing he’d misjudged Jason’s response. He jerked his hands up on Jason’s first advance, “I’ll truly die!”

Jason smirked, seeing green skies, green trashcans, and green sidewalks, “That's the idea”

Lincoln took a quick step back, “Jason Todd. I will die. Talons are no longer immortal”

That halted the man prepared for murder, “What?”

Lincoln nodded, “It’s true. Our facilities were destroyed, and most of the medical professionals that the Owls used to administer us our electrum have been killed or are missing. There’s no way for us to reclaim our electrum or youth”

Jason watched Lincoln, “BS”

Lincoln shook his head, “I tell the truth. Grandmaster Cobb is the only one who may still have access to the electrum. Even he himself needs it too”

Jason sneered, realizing how overheated he was. He took a step back, realizing that his surroundings were starting to take on a strange hue. He focused on the car over Lincoln’s shoulder and realized that with every breath and blink, the car at his back started to lose the veridian hue. He wanted to take off his jacket but couldn't risk lowering his pistol. He cursed internally and took measured breaths. His skin was still hot and prickly but his vision wasn't a scene out of green eggs and ham anymore.

“You are using breathing exercises to compel self-control over the pit’s influence”

Jason bit his cheek as a rush of spite smacked him in the face, “Do you now know when to shut the fuck up?”

“Richard told me once that he encouraged you to watch Yoga tutorials online for better breathing control when you have your episodes”

“That's it” Jason shot forward and brought his gun down as hard as he could. Lincoln cried out collapsed. He fell to his knees and clutched his head in a bowed fashion. Jason ignored Lincoln’s labored breathing and focused on his own until he was confident there wouldn't be a spec of green when he opened his eyes. He still felt overheated but he chalked that up to his thick leather jacket and the genuine adrenaline rush that Lincoln’s presence had thrown his body into. He looked down at Lincoln, wondering if he really should just kill him. But if the brown-haired talon was telling the truth, and he stayed dead, then he was a resource that they wouldn't have access to anymore. Plus, if that was the case, and all talons were vulnerable because electrum was a scarce commodity, then this was something that the others should know. I hate being reasonable, Jason thought bitterly.

Lincoln looked up at Jason and squinted past his new headache. Jason looked down at him without a hint of compassion when the amount of blood trickling down Lincoln's forehead hit home. The gash the but of Jason’s gun had made was bleeding steadily. Most head wounds did bleed more than average because of the amount of blood flowing to and from the brain, but this one wasn't stopping. Jason had seen wounds on Dick, hell he’d seen him shot in the stomach and heal just enough to wrestle wonder woman. Lincoln’s blood continued trickling until it dripped down his nose like a poorly dug river and dripped from his chin. Jason watched the gash, waiting, almost hoping for something to start healing it but Lincoln stayed in pain.

“But your eyes...” Jason started skeptically.

Lincoln nodded, “A consequence of a lifetime on electrum. I've been drained of my own life force and refilled with electrum more than a hundred times” Lincoln wiped the blood just below the gash and winced as he pulled on the too-tender skin, “I am not devoid of electrum as I still live but the longer I live, the more blood my body will generate until the ratio of red blood cells to electrum outweighs any possible healing my body could possibly derive”

Lincoln stood on shaky legs, “This” he gestured to his face, “Will heal, and I will not require stitches. I am still functioning at an above normal standard, but I am no longer what a Talon was intended to be, to act as….Most of us aren't. Only the ones that have beckoned to Gradmaster’s call are-”

“Wait wait wait” Jason rushed, “Gra-Cobb?! What are you saying? That he put out an ad and a bunch of fucking loser talons showed up to audition?”

Lincoln looked at Jason in a bewildered way, “William is the head of the Court of Owls. He is our patriarch and leader. He called us to rejoin him, but I, and very few others have not responded to the call of our creator. I can only assume that, in return, many of those who responded will have access to Electrum again”

Jason ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, “Fuuuuuck. Why couldn't you have stalked the Replacement”

Lincoln stared back at Jason, “You are the replacement, yes?”

Jason nearly gaped. He’d never been called the replacement Robin in his life…He hated it, “The other one” he forced out.

Lincoln nodded, “I understand. Timothy seems very level-headed and Richard liked to focus on him when he had trouble making decisions”

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“When Richard was put through conditioning the first time, he had trouble discerning reality from fiction” Lincoln explained, “Which is understandable, but from what I could understand from him….he seemed to draw suggestive behavior from what his mind assumed Timothy Drake would do. He was under the assumption that Timothy and the Batman were the most reliably logical out of you 4”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Keep talking and you’ll have more than a head wound to worry ‘bout”

Lincoln stilled before dipping his head. Jason cringed, feeling like he just got the type of apology Cobb would expect. Solem and quiet.

“You know I’m taking you back to Batman and the Justice League don't you?”

Lincoln nodded, “It was not my intention but now that you're aware of my presence, I cannot combat you and the Justice League as easily as I might have been able to previously”

“I was aware of your presence” Jason snapped, “I just didn't know it was you. You fucker”

Lincoln nodded and dropped his head again.

“Stop that!”

Lincoln paused and lifted his eyes, “You do not like it when I show remorse?”

“You're not showing remorse, you're just saving your skin, or it's that fucked up brainwashing all you talons have. It's not a real fucking apology that's for sure…so stop it”

Lincoln watched Jason and the first hints of a smirk seemed to tilt his chin, “You are correct. I do not feel genuine regret for my statement. Although, I have been made aware that making the effort to acknowledge someone's feelings does improve relationships”

Jason rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, “Oh really?” he drawled, “Who told you that? Your fucking therapist?”

“Richard, actually”

Jason stopped and watched Lincoln, the urge to throttle him to a lethal level itching at his fingertips. Lincoln could see it too, “I know you distrust me. I feel similarly, but I am earnest when I state my desire to keep Richard safe and well”

Jason threw his hands up in disbelief, “This fucking guy and his need to make friends”

Lincoln stepped closer, “If I can assist in Richard’s safety by providing information I would like to do so”

Jason rolled his eyes, “Yeah right. If you're lucky, you won't be gagged and stuck in the space tower to freeze off your ass. No one’s gonna trust anything you have to say. We all saw how you were Cobb’s bitch”

Lincoln nodded, “He is still my Grandmaster and creator, but I do not wish to see Richard harmed. Especially with the recent gathering of forces”

Jason dropped his arms, “Wait, this was recent? Like Cobb just came out of hiding?”

Lincoln looked aggravated that Jason was asking for his truth after marring his ability to be truthful, “Yes. Within the last month or so, there has been greater activity. Which is why I have not been around as much. I have been keeping tabs on you and your brood in a way to stay informed about Richard”

“Yea I t,hink I got the jist of you stalking me” he snapped, “Why me anyway?”

“You were the easiest to latch onto after we initiated a deal to have you sold to Black Mask. We had to become well-informed of your base of operations, men, and such. Richard seemed very attached to you as well, so I concluded that you would have greater luck getting ahold of him”

“He's with Deathstroke” Jason spat.

Lincoln lowered his eyes, “Yes. I am aware of that too. He and Deathstroke had a strange bond, even in the beginning. I believed it was that fact that Deathstroke was the only familiar face in a room full of perceived enemies, but when Grandmaster Cobb was not around, I saw things that changed my opinion”

Jason watched him back, “What things?” it wasn't a question; it was a demand.

“Nothing as to what you are implying, although as Richard aged, even the Court wondered if using his body in more than one way would be beneficial. I merely meant that they interacted in a way that implied they had a relationship that was unknown to the Court. I think that was proven to us all when Deathstroke successfully stole him a few years into his training with us”

Jason leaned against the wall, letting his shoulder take the brunt of the brick, “Yeah, I heard about that little vacation”

Lincoln nodded, “Yes, we were forced to kill Deathstroke to take back the Gra- Richard but I believe that this pre-established relationship between them is why Deathstroke agreed to take on the contract when the Court of Owls offered it to him and others”

“Who else?” Jason knew he was wasting time.

“Sportsmaster, Bane, and Deadshot were the most preferred, but Deathstroke seemed the most capable and first to accept”

Jason didn't like anything he was hearing. Did the Light know about Cobb? Were they working with Slade against Dick? Were they working against both Slade and Dick? Would the Light put Cobb out if he interfered with Dick and Slade? The shit show that was Wonder Woman a while back made Jason too uncertain and too doubtful. She was still recovering but had little recollection of what had happened. Barry and Bruce were still trying to read her brain and CAT scan results too. Too much was still up in the air and the only thing they could tell was that messing with the chip didn't kill the host. Wonder Woman reported having flashes of breaking stuff and needing to defend herself like she was remembering an old battle.

But the movement that was made against her and the Justice League was still too big to let slide. Was that a coincidence or was the Light and Cobb making one large move?

“We need to get back to the others. You’re coming with me” Jason said.

Lincoln nodded, “I will be compliant” he stated.

“Gee thanks” Jason cocked his gun again.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick hung up the phone and dropped in one of the two bags at his feet. Before he would've been particular about placing his things in his bags and knowing which was Slade’s and which wasn’t, but things were different now and Dick found that caring about who or which bag temporarily held his belongings took far too much mental energy from him. 

Even now, he found he had very little patience for Wildcat’s squabbles about Eerie or Falcon taking his things or using his belongings. 

Slade looked up from his laptop as Dick ended his call with his team. Dick nodded, “Ready. They've got their orders. They should be reporting back in 48 hours”

Slade nodded, “Did I hear correctly? You’re delegating to Eerie?”

Dick nodded, “Falcon’s just sick of Wildcat pushing boundaries with her in command. Eerie won't be as patient so I'm giving her a break for now”

Slade nodded, “I prefer your second in command. Less to worry about”

Dick nodded and smirked, “Yea she can be a real hard-ass sometimes but the men only listen to women who act like a bitch. Falcon calls it first daughter syndrome or something”

Slade placed his laptop in a compartment over their heads and knelt to zip the bag closed. He eyed Dick like he was doing the kid a favor and placed the bags above their heads as well, sealing it shut with a small click.

“If this is just a one-man hit, I don't see why we both have to be here” Dick commented. Slade smirked, “You askin’ for a vacation, Pretty Bird?”

Dick rolled his eyes as he tightened the holster strap on his thigh, “All I'm saying is that I've handled worse on my own. Seems a bit redundant to have us both working this like I need training wheels”

Slade passed Dick without a glance, “You’ll be learning from me until I die, kid”

Dick glowered, “You're basically immortal. Even when you die, you don't stay dead”

Slade smirked, “Exactly”

Dick crossed his arms but followed after the white-haired killer, “I'm not oblivious to the fact that you're avoiding my question”

Slade chuckled, “Maybe I just like reminiscing back to when you did need my presence on every job”

Dick wasn't convinced, “You hate reminiscing. Especially back to when I was Robin”

Slade tsked, “Wrong, kid. I just despised you slaving away under Wayne” he stopped and turned until his eye patch was centered on Dick. Despite the man being blind in that one eye, Dick felt like he was being seen just as well, “I’ll never get tired of remembering the good old days, Robin. Those late-night chases when you finally had the courage to leave the Bat’s side and come flying after me”

Dick watched Slade, uncertain as to what can of worms he’d opened, “As to why I’m coming though. You’re right, this is child’s play for you at this point”

“You don't trust the job? Or the target?”

“Neither. Both” Slade shrugged, “The pay, timing, and lack of contact with our payee are too good to be true. I'm coming as incentive, nothing more. This is still your job, you’ll take lead. If I’m proven wrong, well then, just be glad that I wasn’t proven right”

It didn't take them long to reach the last sighted location of their target. He was a businessman who dabbled in too many side gigs for the IRS to keep track of. His relationship to their temporary boss was unknown because there was no name or face to whoever had posted the hit, but for now, that was fine. They only needed their target for now.  His photo had been provided when Slade accepted the contract, along with his last known location, but nothing more. Slade and Dick had done some digging to learn he had a business that was known to frequent an abandoned refrigeration factory, most likely for their offices and backrooms. Slade had seen enough sultry backwater meetings to know how useful a building and office room could be to people trying to avoid the public eye for private dealings.

Dick had already quipped his fill of jokes off about their target being the first mean Canadian in history. Slade knew Dick was centered and focused when the jokes ceased upon arriving at the abandoned warehouse. It was a large brick building with an entrance on each wall, most likely for large shipments when ice was actually distributed or kept at the building years ago. Slade scanned the building’s contents to make sure there wasn't anyone waiting for them in advance. Behind him, Dick was crouched and triple checking his waist and thigh pockets. He’d brought a multitude of knives, stored across his body, and 3 pistols of varying sizes. Besides that, Slade knew Dick would have duct tape, and some small defensive measures like smoke bombs or epi-pens for stabbing someone who was going into shock.

Slade lowered his screen in dissatisfaction, “We’re not alone”

“What?” Dick was genuinely shocked, “I honestly thought this would be a dead end and we’d double back for more ground research”

Slade nodded in agreement. He hadn't expected to find anybody at the last sighted location, even if it was a frequently visited location. More than that, he hadn't expected a group of people to be waiting for them. Slade knew something was up. He knew Dick did as well, he could feel the hesitancy rolling off the kid’s shoulders. Slade had handled countless hits and contracts like this one when he first became Deathstroke the Terminator. There were too many instances to count where Slade had been given a face, half a reason, a large sum of money, and told to go ensure that face didn't live to see another day. All he had to do was ensure that his creditor was never credited with relation to the hit. This was different; it felt different, but Slade had no proof besides his churning gut. He’d run their target’s name and credentials, finding multiple proven addresses, 2 ex-wives, and a social security number. Their target had dropped out of college in his 3rd year for a job that fired him 3 years after that. He’d spiraled into further debt and greater yearnings for money until he found himself an enemy willing to pay for his existence to be terminated. All so much information for someone who might be the focus of a pseudo-hit.

Still, Slade pondered re-engaging on the contract. Deathstroke didn’t break contracts but he didn't consider himself irrevocably bound to an electronically signed agreement if the other end of the contract intended to screw him over. A contract was only an agreement if both sides were upheld. Slade met Dick’s eyes, the blue coming through more than the gold they both know usually affronted his irises before a mission. Slade had seen Dick tamper down his usual morning dosage but the kid refused to stop entirely. Dick met his eyes and the firmness around his cheeks and lips told Slade all he needed to know about the kid wanting to back down.

Slade sighed, “Alright, kid”

Dick smirked and nodded. Slade took the lead instead, determined to make it in and out within an hour. His heat scan had shown a handful of bodies in the far back room. He counted 8 people and no vehicles around the perimeter, but that assured them nothing. Slade had parked his getaway vehicle 4 blocks away. Just far enough for his pursuers not to have noticed it amongst civilian vehicles. The metal that was used in old structural buildings like this one was another negative; it meant that they couldn't rely on heat scanning conclusions with confidence because the steel beams in the rooftops, walls, and refrigeration units might interfere with the level of heat radiated and picked up. 

They ended up selecting one of the side entrances to access the building so that they wouldn't have to make a straight and narrow walk the long way to the back offices. Slade equipped himself with a shorthand semi-automatic, another prepped at his thigh; safety off. Dick saw the route Slade went and silently compensated, withdrawing a smoke grenade and a flashbang. It was a predictable attack to startle their target, blind them, and go in swinging and shooting, but Slade cared very little for the state of things. They were to kill the target and nothing else. The casualties mattered little to him, and it was safe to assume they were just as filthy as their target and anonymous employer.

They silently stepped around a larger corner, finding a strangely narrow hallway. Slade paused before proceeding. He led them down and followed the brick walls until they came to a larger area. It looked like a broken-down packaging center with rotted and destroyed conveyor belt parts and plastic bag ties. Along their left and right were large steel doors with heavy, long handles; refrigeration units used to store excess ice bags and inventory, most likely. They continued down when Slade confirmed that their unsuspecting party was still sequestered in the back room together.

They prowled forward, utterly silent despite the size of each man and the heavy equipment they were packing. The pathway didn't narrow again, but the number of windows became fewer, and the amount of doors along their left and right lessened. Eventually, they found themselves in front of an enormous steel door that reflected the ones they’d seen in the packaging area. Despite passing other doors like this, this one seemed out of place in the hallway.

“What the fuck?” Dick mouthed, his brow indented.

Slade looked back to the large door, uncertain as to whether their targets were meeting in a broken refrigeration unit or if there was one in front of the supposed office. Slade was leaning more toward believing there was a corporate-sized fridge between them as a means to hide financial fraud and meetings. If anything, there might not be an actual fridge in their way, just an intimidatingly large door. 

“The door is a ploy” Slade signed to Dick who nodded. He tapped his palm against his forehead and smirked in a Duh fashion. Dick nodded at the door, signaling that he was ready to move forward. 

Chapter 37

Notes:

Hey!

This one feels suuuper long so sorry lol

Slade knew that Dick had deduced that their unobtrusive approach had been dismantled by the large door standing in their way. It was safe to assume it would creak or squeak, alerting the inside occupants to their arrival. They had to be quick and brutal. They’d have to move fast and make their attack more aggressive and invasive. Slade gripped the large unit’s handle, noting that he didn't feel the usual cold that commercial fridges emitted. He pulled the door open in an easy swing and moved in, feeling Dick behind him. Dick commented on what they were both realizing, “It’s not cold”

Slade nodded, his armed hand raised beside his head. The fridge was small as they stepped inside, barely large enough for what a fast food restaurant would expect to keep stocked in the back.

“What the fuck?” 

Slade noticed it at the same time Dick did. It was just an entryway. The door in front of them, resembling the door they had just entered through, beeped twice, highlighting a green mark above the door. Slade turned to make sure Dick held the door open, glad to see Dick’s foot stopping the door already. Just as he was about to issue the order for them to exit and recoup, Dick jerked, “The hell-”

Slade turned to see Dick stumble as the door began to manually close on its own. It swung fast and forceful, obviously automated and controlled elsewhere. Dick’s foot slipped and he stumbled in the few seconds it took for the door to slam shut. Slade knew he didn't have to issue orders. Dick was moving quickly as soon as it was clear they had walked into a trap. He knelt and retrieved a small laser. He pressed it nearly flush against the crease in the large metal door. If the metal started to give way, it was a simple alloy that both of them could combat. If the heat of the small magnified laser didn't manage to do anything, then they knew the metal compounds in the door were more serious. 

Only a few moments after Dick had knelt, a sharp hissing sound emitted above their heads. Dick paused and jerked his attention upward, his eyes still in predatory anticipation. Slade watched the ceiling as well, disliking every moment more and more. A sharp whistle met their ears at the same time the gas started to thicken and show itself. Dick cursed and slapped a hand over his lower face, “We need to break down the door” Dick’s muffled voice came through. Slade nodded, his own mask working quickly to expel anything that wasn't clean oxygen. Slade wasn’t worried about them lasting long in whatever was dispelling into the air. Slade and his bird both had extremely recuperative immune systems, and their lung capacity and regeneration rates were far above normal. It would take an immense amount of gas to knock them out or poison them.

Slade sensed it at the same time Dick did. The air wasn’t toxic or poisoned…it was cold.

Dick’s eyes widened marginally as she stared up at the ceiling, “Slade” he breathed fearfully.

“Focus,” Slade barked. He knew what conclusions Dick was jumping to. There were very few individuals who knew what Dick was and even fewer who knew how to combat a creature like him. The Court were their creators and potential demolishers, storing their talons on ice when they had no immediate use for them. Or in Dick’s case, when their talons had warranted certain long-term punishments. 

“Fuck” Dick exhaled, his tone slightly higher. His breath came out foggy which seemed to magnify Dicks increasing panic, “It’s him” Dick gasped, “Slade it’s Cobb-”

“Focus!” Slade ordered, “You've trained for this. It’s just cold, nothing more” he knew it was far worse than that. Considering Dick’s weakness to extreme temperatures below 20, the kid was keeping it together rather well. 

Dick’s brow pinched together as he forced himself to focus on Slade’s words with as much absoluteness as he could mentally force. His gaze snapped to something over Slade’s shoulder, but Slade was already turning. He snapped his arms up in an x just in time to intercept the bullet intended for his chest. Slade grunted and smirked over, yet again, another soon-to-be victim underestimating Deathstroke the Terminator. He felt the bullet hit his forearm instead of his collarbone, but the solid copper-colored armor layering his arms forced the bullet back. 

The situation was changing too quickly and frequently-keeping the situation out of their hands. The door in front of them was open and fogged from the cold, but before Slde could do anything about that, a weak gasp made itself known behind him before he heard the sound of soft skin and cloth against metal.

Slade narrowed his gaze, knowing Dick had just collapsed from the cold. He was surprised the kid had held out as long as he did. They were in thin, lightweight protective uniforms meant for flexibility, not weather protection. The cold air raining down on them from above was nail-biting and frigid. If Slade had to guess, he’d put it just below 30 degrees from how his own skin prickled and shuddered. It was the type of cold that hurt and burned, similar to liquid nitrogen being blown across the skin.

“If you’re going to waste your time waiting for me to collapse, you’ll be waiting a while, William,” Slade called.

“Deathstroke,” the man called back jovially, “What a pleasant surprise”

“I'm sure,” Slade replied.

The hissing sound cut off. As the airborne liquid nitrogen lessened, Slade was able to make out Cobb and a handful of talons, just beyond the second door, waiting at his back. They were dressed as he’d last seen them, with a uniform of gold and black. William Cobb stood proudly in a clean-pressed tan suit. Slade eyed the relaxed form of his shoulders and the way he felt the need to enter with his hands in his pockets, certain as to his confidence and safety. It was the exact move that Slade would have attempted to emulate, and he despised the man all the more for it.

They watched each other for a moment longer, and Slade was all too aware of the stillness at his back. He was still armed but didn't act, waiting for Cobb to show his hand. As if reading his intentions, the man shrugged, “I'm not about to move first, Deathstroke. I'm a confident man, not a foolish one. I’ll never be able to beat you, nor my grandson, in unarmed combat” he offered Slade’s gun a disdainful look. 

Slade thumbed at the safety, “Like I said, William. You’ll be waiting for a wh-”

Cobb gave a motion with his hand. It was slight and subtle, but enough. Slade dropped down as a bullet flew overhead, only to find a blade quivering in the floor beside him. Slade wrenched the blade from the ground and twirled it into his free hand. He steadied his gun, “Tell your creatures to back down before I put them down”

“They’ll come back, Deathstroke, you know this”

“Not without a head, William. You know this”

Cobb’s superficial smile dropped, “Wilson, give the boy up, and I might let you go. You know this is a losing battle”

Slade smirked, “Maybe you don’t understand my reputation as well as you think you do then”

Cobb frowned and pulled his hands from his pressed pockets, fixing his cufflinks in a snide way, “Don't tempt me. I can make this a repeat of the cabin far too easily. You’re outnumbered”

Slide dipped his head, “I was gracious and didn't bill you after burning down my property…with me in it”

Cobb shrugged in a what-can-you-do sort of way, “I’m terribly sorry, but you stole from me. Actions have consequences”

Slade cocked his head, “Tell me Cobb… Which member of the Light is attempting to get rid of me by giving you one last chance? Or do you even know?”

He didn't give Cobb the chance to answer and tsked, “Don't tell me you responded to a faceless and nameless order like the lapdog you envisioned your grandson becoming?”

Cobb forced a sneer onto his face, “Is this what the great Deathstroke looks like when cornered? Pointing fingers and throwing around insults?”

Slade ignored him, “You must see how utilized you’ve been William” Slade made a low sound of admonishment, “Savage has had his eye on the success of this project before you were even created. Did you really think that you would be allowed any control over the conclusion of the evolution project?”

Cobb glared and raised a brow in impatience. Slade smirked and rolled his shoulders back, “At least I saw my place on this chessboard long ago. Saw where I was versus where the Light and Savage wanted me. They want the boy strong and skilled, but too much time with me or the Bat would bring back that damned individuality. And what good soldier needs a personality?”

“You, on the other hand, the boy could be trusted to never grow another brain cell as long as he spent time with you ”

“Watch your mouth, Wilson,” Cobb warned.

“But the boy’s skill didn't increase with the Court either, did it?” Slade shook his head, “No, the kid became more durable, yes, but that’s where your usefulness ended. Mine was only just beginning” he glanced around them and at the talons at Cobb’s back, “Although it does appear that Savage is attempting to speed up his timeline with this little message”

Cobb spat lowly, “I am not a message, Wilson. I am your end ”

Slade offered a low velvety chuckle, “You are your own end William, but yes, your presence here is Savage informing me that my usefulness has come to an end” An untamed giant highlighted Slade’s only visible eye, “So now it looks like it's time for me to become a player and not a piece”

Cobb was tensed and oozing aggression, his shoulders and fingers twitching in anticipation, “That boy is my legacy and my tool. My blood and my will. He’s not your replacement son or your little pet” he gave a long demeaning look up and down Slade’s figure, “Although I should have foreseen you having such abhorrent morals to begin with, even with family”

Slade’s eye crinkled in amusement, “Your jealously is showing Cobb, whether it's because of the connection I’ve garnered with the boy’s heart, or his ass; it’s still pathetic”

Cobb’s cheeks became splotched with red, and he reared back in a spluttering offended manner, “You’ll regret ever intervening, Deathstroke.

“I wonder,” Slade queried, “Did Vandal Savage ever reveal why he truly wanted the child unlucky enough to survive your evolution project? Did you ever clue into the fact that he wasn't enthralled by your ability to hire black market medical workers or sentence numbers of pregnant mothers to the grave?”

Cobb dropped his chin, “Keep spewing your ridiculous lies and you’ll wish you weren't immortal, Deathstroke”

Slade nodded, “He did his best to keep the connection from me as well, but he’s rather poor at being discreet in his interest in the boy. It piqued my own in him…It's a shame you won't be around to ever learn of it”

“Now!” Dick rasped behind Slade. The mercenary smirked at Cobb’s confusion before throwing the door between them shut. He turned and slammed his feet into the bottom left of the door as hard as he could. The door creaked obscenely and the metal screamed. He heard Cobb’s yell, followed by the large door at his back being yanked open, with the addition of more gunfire. Some made their way past his armor and into his back, but Slade kept on. He slammed his foot against the metal one last time. The door flew off its hinges, made brittle by the sudden influx of liquid nitrogen into the old fridge containment unit. He threw himself forward and onto Dick, clasping a hand over his middle and dragging him bodily after him. They rolled in a messy heap to the hallway outside, escaping the remaining gunfire.

Slade dragged Dick’s body further into the hallway while maintaining his gun with his other hand. Dick’s skin was frigid to the touch and his eyes fluttered between every gasp that made it past his chapped lips. Slade simply had the chills while Dick looked to be suffering from hypothermia and frostbite all at once. As soon as his half-aware mind recognized they were out of danger, his grip on the small laser relaxed, and he let it roll to the floor at his side.

“Good job, kid,” Slade said as he adjusted the younger man. He knew it must have been a struggle for Dick to go limp early on, playing possum so their enemies would cease the extreme coolant in the air. As soon as the door opened and the mist stopped, Slade heard the slight buzz of Dick’s waist tool start up again. His collapsed body covered the slight movement of his hands as he worked the laser at the corner of the large metal door. He dragged Dick up against the wall to prop him up. He slapped his cheek a few times, “Kid, eyes on me” Slade said as he rummaged through Dick’s belt, looking for anything more than guns and ammo. He knew it wasn't likely but he was hoping Dick had brought some more of the coolant he self-administered, but his searching came up empty. Dick had left it behind, "Of all the times you choose to listen to me"

Dick’s weak groan was barely heard over the scuffling and gunfire around the corner. His eyelashes fluttered as he fought to stay awake and move. Slade had seen Dick put on ice numerous times and they were all the same in the end. His body slowed, and his mind became muffled and hazy. A cold talon was weaker than a human, and the slowed electrum in their blood solidified into uselessness and catatonia. 

“Movement”, Slade reminded. He knew it was a phobia of Dick's to be chilly. He’d seen Dick avoid cold showers or washing in rivers, risking bad body odor and skin infections over being clean and cold. His team still wasn't sure as to the why regarding his preference, but Slade had seen them step up and boil pot after pot of lake water for the kid. Dick’s hands trembled as he fought to work through the routines Slade had trained into him. He had to move in any way possible to kickstart his body heat. Clenching had become his go-to, his fingers and fists spazzed as the muscles did their best to comply. His toes mirrored his fingers in his boots.

“Gtta' go” Dick mumbled. Slade nodded and pulled back, “We’re going,” he reassured the kid.

“You're not going anywhere, Wilson,” Cobb called. A body stepped around the corner only to be shot down point-blank by Slade. The body collapsed, and Slade was disappointed to spot black combat boots instead of English loafers. 

The sound of Cobb’s voice seemed to inspire Dick some, his panic reigniting his adrenaline in the form of heat. He weakly grasped at Slade, “He cn’t” he whispered weakly. Slade gave Dick a strong look, “Don't worry kid” 

Dick whined lowly in the back of his throat, his distress nearly palpable. Slade gripped Dick by the jaw, his cheeks smushing between Slade’s gloved fingers, “Breath. Deep breaths”

He let go and leaned forward to heft  Dick over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. Dick groaned as his cold skin was rubbed raw against his clothing and Slade’s, but Slade merely gave his thigh a single firm squeeze. Slade smoothly stood and started backing up down the way they’d come. He kept one arm raised and the other secure over Dick’s lower back.

“Y’gtta go” Dick mumbled over and over again. Slade felt Dick’s swinging fingers try to grip onto his uniform from the back, “That’s the idea, kid”

“Nnnnnmmm” Dick moaned, “Yu' gtta-” he fell off into another series of weak unintelligible sounds. Slade was putting considerable distance between him and the stalking talons, but after the latest fatality, they were slower to advance, “Don't even think about it, kid. I’m not the Bat, now’s not the time to play martyr”

He spotted movement and fired, counting down how many bullets he had left in the chamber. He made his way down the winding hallways backward, fending off the encroaching footsteps and quick shadows of movement. 

“Do what you do best and think of yourself, Wilson. Leave the boy,” Cobb’s voice rang out. Slade didn't reply. He wasn't a hero and didn't banter with his enemies. He came to the thin hallway and knew they were close to the large packing room that met the exit. Slade gripped Dick tighter, knowing there’d be reinforcements waiting for them at every exit. He had to re-position the body hanging over his shoulder if he wanted to give them a proper chance at escape. Slade couldn't dodge well with the weight of a full-grown man hanging off one side of him. He knelt at the lip of the last corner and slipped Dick off his shoulder and onto the ground beside him. Dick blinked sluggishly, already tilting to one side. Slade caught him with one hand as he checked his gun's chamber and reconfirmed if any of his emergency calls had been received and answered.

“Hey now” Slade slapped Dick’s cheek. Dick barely responded and continued to stare at the floor between them. Slade frowned at the pale tint marring Dick’s lips, The kid’s basically unconscious.

He retrieved bindings from Dick’s belt and tied it around one wrist before pulling the other around his neck. He planned to tie Dick to him in a forced piggyback position so Slade at least had the mobility of his legs and both arms to run and shoot. Just as he was pulling Dick’s body around to his side, he heard a new set of footsteps approaching. Slade snapped his hand down to where he’d stored Dick’s smoke bombs flash grenades. The world exploded in a white flash of grey as thick chemical-fueled fog filled his throat. He heard Dick cough weakly at his side but Slade kept him steady and seated until he was sure they could move unimpeded. A few cries and coughs reached their ears as the smoke found their victims’ faces. More footsteps approached, but Slade didn't dare move until he had enough visibility to take the shot. He readied his gun lowly as both he and Dick sat and crouched in the grey hallway. The talons' approach had become more cautious and less aggressive the further Slade managed to drag Dick. He imagined that Cobb was keeping himself positioned back the furthest, despite being a meta.

The footsteps paused, and no one moved for a minute. Slade felt the climbing anticipation eat at his fingers, begging him to become the trigger-happy youth that had escaped to the US military a lifetime ago. A strange high-pitched whine rang out from the smoke, and Slade halted and listened with hyperfixation. It was almost a dog whistle, something most baseline-hearing people couldn't pick up. Too late, he realized what the high-pitched whistle was. He wasn't quick enough to turn and stop Dick. Like a curious dog, Dick lifted his head weakly and turned towards the sound. His movements were sluggish and slowed, but that made it all the easier to hit him.

Cobb's voice rang out calmly, “That one”

Dick’s head jerked back with the forcefulness of a quick death before he collapsed backward into a heap of limbs and pooling blood. Slade cursed and turned to bend over his student, hyperaware of the bullet wound dotting his forehead. Dick’s glazed eyes stared up and past Slade’s mask, “Dammit” Slade spat. Slade snarled and turned on his knees. He fired his gun’s last 4 bullets, seeing the shadowy figures starting to encroach and go down under each shot. Without looking away, he retrieved his spare pistol and reached for Dick’s as well. He emptied them all into the greying figures in front of him, knowing that all the head and throat shots wouldn't keep the talons down for very long. It would keep Dick down for even less.

He turned back to Dick, knowing Cobb and his undead rats would close in as soon as it was clear he’d run out of magazines. He felt a series of bullets penetrate his back, and Slade dropped his head forward in pain. He clenched his fists and stared down at dulled, unblinking blue eyes. The outer edges of Dick’s irises were starting to bleed gold, growing increasingly brighter. Slade had seen it a handful of times and watched the electrum bring the kid back from the dead. The electrum was kicking into overdrive now that the red blood cells and white blood cells had everything to focus on. The kid’s eyes would be bright, nearly glowing for a while, but Slade didn't want to think about the kid coming back. He knew he’d be in pain and disoriented at the very least, proving to be a hindrance and a liability. They’d have a lot of recovery work to do after this ambush, but that was a concern for a later time. Despite all Dick’s work and Slade’s efforts to de-condition Dick’s mind, the kid hadn't completely succeeded in separating himself from Cobb. That would be a later worry, though, because Slade would return with reinforcements and take Cobb’s head for his black-haired Robin.

Slade smiled darkly down at Dick, “You got your wish kid” So did Cobb in a sense. He heard the footsteps grow louder, a sharp clack of shoes standing out over the others. He brought up a hand to smooth some loose, sweaty hair off of Dick’s forehead. The gunshot wound contrasted his eyes like a color wheel as it started to pool off to the left of his forehead, and gather around his ear and neck, “I’ll be back. Hang in there, Little Bird”

____________________________________________________________________________________

They found Slade exactly where his pinging location had told Tim they would. After Jason had stormed into the cave with Lincoln Marsh, bloodied and bruised, Bruce had called an emergency meeting, corralling them all into the cave, even Alfred.

It didn't take long to get Lincoln to divulge everything, but like Jason, Bruce believed very little. Lincoln had re-told why and how he’d been tracking down Dick through friends and family as he was lacking the resources needed to follow Dick and Slade directly. Like Jason, Bruce had been troubled and interested to hear more about William Cobb’s movements to re-collect and recall his talons, rewarding them with an influx of electrum. They could see how furious Bruce was that Lincoln had kept this to himself, but Tim wasn't about to point out that he wouldn't have run to Batman if he were in Lincoln’s position either.

Things had escalated rather fast and rather severely after that, especially after Tim’s laptop had fallen into a cacophony of pings and alerts. Tim checked it, intending to shut it down and return to the matter at hand, but froze when he realized that the alerts were notifying him that Slade’s software had allowed him access again. “Drake!” Damian snapped when he realized Tim was staring off into space.

Tim waved him away as he scanned the IP address, reading as fast as possible. It was true, Slade’s firewalls and software, which had previously kicked him out, had dropped and allowed him access again, and on the same server line he had originally hacked into. “What the fuck?” Tim muttered, earning the attention of everyone else. Bruce had put 2 and 2 together and realized that while Jason catching Lincoln was a coincidence, Cobb’s movement to gather his hoard of remaining talons, and Tim’s newfound access to Slade’s servers were not.

Bruce was indignant to learn that Tim had gained access to Deathstroke’s software at all and not mentioned it, but Tim wasn't about to acknowledge the intimate moment Slade had taunted him with before locking his cameras. It still hurt to imagine that when Dick wasn’t sleeping or on missions, he was just existing at a different home with a different set of people. He most likely ate meals with Slade’s friend Wintergreen and his new team of 3. He obviously trained and exercised with the mercenary, but Tim didn't have a clear, concise word for how he had felt after seeing Dick and Slade share such an obviously intimate moment together. It wasn't crude or inappropriate per se…but the quiet unspoken words that were shared as Slade watched Dick practice one of the last things that tethered him to his parents….it made Tim feel very out of sorts. It made him feel like he’d misjudged his brother in some way. Tim despised being wrong.

The comfortable way in which Dick let Slade touch him-like he was Jason or Damian. Even the way Dick didn't recoil beneath Slade’s attention was offputting to Tim on so many levels. Anger and bitterness, guilt and sadness, longing and bittersweet happiness, Tim was far too eager to distance himself from the emotional whiplash the cameras had given him. But that was an issue for another time, maybe even another universe, because their Bruce certainly wasn’t able to vocalize emotional feedback in a healthy manner- it was just another reason for Tim to focus his mental energy elsewhere. 

“I’m going to intercept Deathstroke,” Batman said in a flurry of turned shoulders and cape. All his Robins were quick to voice that they were coming as well, whether or not it was with the Dark Knight's blessing.

It wasn’t hard to leave and avoid the other heroes of their community. The Bats had been left alone more and more in recent days. Tim suspected it was a combination of their occasional partnership with the Young Justice team on missions to obstruct the Light’s goal and Batman’s strange power balance with nearly half of the Justice League. It left Wayne Manor strangely private for the first time in a while. After Dick had died as a teenager, the entirety of the cape community felt obligated to be present and force their empathy, as a show of support for the mourning family. After Dick returned, they were once again bombarded with the presence of those heroes, apparently having lost the right to privacy once again. It had been a turbulent time with changing relationships, but Tim couldn't help but notice how strange it was that everyone was quick to offer space and privacy to the Batclan now that their dead member had been swept up amongst their enemies. As if the occasional meetings or public appearances were enough to constitute the Bats’ socialization requirements for the rest of the vigilante community. Alfred and Barbara did a wonderful job acting as their home support and backup as well, providing occasional relief for Gotham when Batman was gone, while also posing as a front for when newspapers speculated Bruce Wayne had been gone a few days too long.

By the time they fueled up the jet and made contact with the GPS coordinates Tim had pulled from behind Slade’s firewall, they found themselves in northern Canada. Their party was quiet, with little bickering and argument to be found between them. Bruce had injected Licnoln with a synthesized combination of cryo freeze liquid and sedative before placing him in the same cells Dick had used prior as well. None of them trusted Lincoln to come and have their backs, even if he claimed he was working in the interest of Dick. 

They found Deathstroke in a private safehouse about 30 minutes from the closest big city. Batman waited in the alcoves of the overhanging roof while Redhood took down the door, and Red Robin and Robin took his flank on either side. The moment Redhood’s foot crossed the threshold, he was forced to roll away to avoid a bullet to the face. Slade stood with one arm outstretched and the other, still stuffed in a duffle bag full of weapons and a few clothes, “That was a warning. Next time I won't miss” 

Batman appeared in the doorway, “Where is he, Deathstroke?”

Slade wasn’t in the mood to banter, “I see your little birds don't know that it's rude to trace someone's location”

Tim cocked his head, “I didn't hack your IPS, you shared it with me”

Slade froze and tipped his head back in aggravation, “Goddammit, Will,” he breathed. He resumed stuffing items in the bag on the table before him, “If you know what's good for you, you will heed my advice to stay out of issues that didn't start with you to begin with”

“Where is Nightwing Deathstroke?” Batman demanded. Slade turned to grab a 4-pack of short-hand ammo, turning his back and shoulders on the bats.

“Holy shit” Redhood breathed in a half laugh, “Dude, who do I have to thank for that” he gestured to the back of Slade’s suit which was riddled with bloody slashes and a multitude of bullet wounds. Tim dropped his gaze to the floor and spotted 2 bullets further inside the room at Slade’s feet.

Batman was spotting the clues as well, “Where is my son, Wilson?”

Slade turned his narrowed gaze on Batman, “Don't test me, Wayne. I’ve had a bad day as it is”

“You've got 30 seconds to explain where Nightwing is,” Robin ordered. He stepped forward with his staff in hand. Slade crossed his arms, “You’re testing the thin patience I’ve allotted you and your brothers because of Richard” Robin stepped forward and swung out with his bostaff, but Slade intercepted him smoothly. He caught the metal weapon at a half-turn and jerked his arm in. Robin was forced to stumble with it or lose his weapon.

“Robin!” Batman barked, but Slade already had Robin rotated and caught by the wrist. He bent the wrist down and around until he had it pinned back and up against the small of his back. Damian hissed as his arm was pushed to the brink of dislocation. He hissed and spat, struggling as minimally as he could, “Your brother couldn't get out of this, neither will you” he shoved Robin away with an air of disregard.

“Deathstroke”, Tim demanded, “Where is Nightwing? Who attacked you? Is he hurt?” Tim’s mask's attention was on the single hallway behind Slade’s back, as if he could spy his wounded brother in a back room.

“The Court has Nightwing, don't they?” Batman glared scathingly. 

Slade turned to face Batman and his brood, “I'm not in the habit of giving more than 1 warning, much less reminders. But I didn't allow you access to my safehouse, I didn't allow you access to my location, via my own software firewalls” he sent a pointed look at Tim, “And I never requested your presence”

“Fuck” Jason breathed, “Lincoln was right”

He stood off to the side of the small kitchen the safehouse offered. He brought up a hand to run through his hair, a stress habit he’d picked up from Dick as kids, before realizing he still had his helmet on. He yanked it off and slapped it against the counter, leaving him in just a domino mask.

Slade frowned and turned on Bruce, “You’re in contact with the Court?”

Tim shook his head, “We caught Lincoln Marsh stalking us as a way to keep tabs on Dick. He claimed that William Cobb was calling talons back to him recently. Then you-or someone-shared your software access with me so I hacked your most accurate location” 

Robin frowned, still holding his twisted shoulder, “We’re wasting time, Richard is in enemy hands because this incompetent lowlife”

Slade crossed his arms, “Watch your mouth, kid. I don't think your brother would be too pissed to know I broke both your arms when the alternative is snapping your neck”

“Watch yourself, Deathstroke,” Batman snarled.

“Watch your brat,” Slade replied similarly.

“He’s right,” Tim said, his voice taking on a more urgent sense, “We’re wasting time” he turned to Slade, “What happened?”

Slade narrowed his eye and crossed his arms, “This is not a democracy, not a partnership. Move aside, go home. I have an apprentice to be reacquainted with”

“Oh yeah sure. We’ll get right on that,” Jason replied.

“Dammit To-Hood!” Now is not the time for games and back talk,” Robin spat.

“I agree”, Slade said lightly. His voice dropped to a threatening octave, “Leave”

“Dammit Wilson! Where is my son !” Batman slammed a fist against the wall beside him, his shout echoing despite the thin walls and flimsy structure they stood in. Slade stood silently for a moment. The loud silence was only broken by the even louder clink of something falling to the floor at Slade’s heels. All eyes jumped to the small reflective bullet that now lay a hair from Slade’s heels.

“Serves you right, fucker” Redhood muttered darkly.

Slade ignored him and strode back to his waiting duffle bag, “The Light has finally seen fit to rid themselves of me. I assume they are speeding up their plans”

“They're using Cobb to separate you from Dick?” Tim concluded.

“The entire organization? Who?” Damian persisted as well.

“What plans are they speeding up, Deathstroke?” Batman compelled.

Slade placed a handful of blue vials in the bag with a messy clink before angrily zipping the bag shut in one go, “You know exactly what I'm referring to Wayne”

“They want to use the chips on Dick”

“They're about 18 months earlier than expected to be honest” Slade’s tone contrasted the forcefulness of his movements as he strode around the safehouse to gather last-minute weapons and tools, “Cobb is just a placeholder, but one that will ensure the kid doesn't think any more of those pesky little thoughts of his in the meantime”

“Cobb has to know the Light won’t keep him around for long though" Tim offered, “The Light’s let Dick and Slade kill off the entire Court of Owls and-”

“This is not a Q and Q session, boy,” Slade replied sinisterly, “ Leave ”

“We’re coming with you, asshole,” Jason said casually, “You both got beat up by Cobb and a few meta goons. You’ll need us”

Slade threw his bag over his shoulder as he typed something out on a small burner phone. He offered Jason a demeaning look, “I doubt that”

Jason scoffed. Slade stepped past them to the doorway, forcing Batman to shift just enough to allow the killer to walk past. Both men shared a mutinous dark expression, “I find it understandable that I was outnumbered by Cobb and his talons when we were walking into what was supposed to be a single manned hit. On top of your brother being dead weight, I had very few options and resources”

“Wait, why was Richard useless to help?” Damian asked, concern more than evidently marring his tone, “What happened?”

Slade looked back at Damian, “Does the word dead weight mean nothing to you, kid?”

Damian’s eyes flared wide, nearly tearing his mask from the glue against his brow and cheeks, “They kil-They killed him!?”

Damian’s tone had started out almost broken, a whisper of disbelief before he spoke in furious outrage. Batman placed a hand on Robin’s shoulder immediately. Slade rolled his eye, “Relax, kid. It's not like it's his first time”

Damian looked outraged still. Batman stepped forward and let his cape fall over his shoulders, “Don't be foolish, Deathstroke. We’re coming either way. Cooperating with us will at least make things easier for you. They know you’re returning, they'll be more prepared, just as you are”

Slade stared Batman down with a sharp, lethal gaze, “Stay in your lane, Wayne. As much as you believe your own scripture of morals, this has nothing to do with you”

“Don't walk away from me Slade” Bruce snarled.

“He is right,” Robin said airily, “We will be going either way. Cooperating with us will only make it more simplistic for you. I thought you were smart, Deathstroke”

Slade eyed Robin like he was considering how much brute force the kid’s body could handle, “This won’t be like before,” he stated with a heavy tone.

Jason scoffed, “That's exactly what this will be” he replied smoothly, “We were with Dickhead the last time he was captured and-”

“Watch yourself, Hood,” Slade warned, “Lest I point out the similarities overlapping your and Wayne’s ego” he looked at the others, “The kid has been working to suppress his conditioning for a few years now. This will tell us how successful his efforts have been, but if I understand your motives to be to whisk the kid away when he’s unable to make autonomous decisions for himself, our cooperation ends”

“If Dick needs medical attention or further help, I will not hesitate to help him” Batman replied seriously, “Whether that means taking him to a secure location to recuperate”

Slade made a disbelieving sound in his throat, “I almost want to see the shit show  he gives you when he wakes up to find you’ve kidnapped him again” Slade stepped forward, “Intervened…again” Another step, “Taken control of the situation… again ”

“Your hypocrisies are showing, Wilson,” Batman stated sternly. They watched each other for a few moments, but the silence held a heated tension that buzzed like dying gymnasium lights above their heads, “At the very least, ensuring that the Light nor Cobb has access to my son benefits all of us. Do not make me force our presence on your Deathstroke”

Slade tilted his head slightly, “Do tell” he purred in mock sincerity, “Explain to me exactly why and how you think that the Light will have the upper hand once Cobb succeeds in removing me from the equation and placing a nice neat little piece of metal on the kid’s neck, hmm?”

“That is a beneficial consequence of our true goal,” Robin snapped furiously, “We are here to save Richard, with or without your consent”

Slade chuckled, “Sure kid”

“I am a legal adult!” Damian exclaimed indignantly.

“Then act like it” Slade leered.

Tim shot Bruce a look, “Look, as much as it sounds like a jerk move, Batman is right to point out that we can’t afford to let the Light control Dick like they tried to with Wonder Woman. Dick is strong, that’s obvious, but don’t you dare accuse us of not putting Dick first. I know you’ve probably heard about how split the Justice League is over how to handle Dick” he ran a hand through his hair and bit the inside of his cheek in frustration, “But all that aside, we are wasting time. Cobb could be moving Dick right now, hurting him at the very least, Dick is with the Court of Owls again. This is bad, and we need to intervene as soon as possible”

Tim looked at Slade from where he stood in front of Bruce, but was frustrated to find the man’s single eye trained on Bruce over his shoulder. Tim turned on Batman to find they were still in a visual power dissonance-silently challenging the other. Tim clenched his fists, pissed off beyond belief, “B!” he snapped. The Dark Knight’s cowl didn't allow for easy eye movement identification, but Tim had grown up under Batman, so he knew when he'd finally garnered the man's attention. Bruce stared back at Tim, feeling Robin on his left and Redhood on his right.

Slade crossed his arms and leaned against the outer door frame, knowing that he didn't have anyone pressuring him to play nice. Slade held all the cards at the moment: Dick’s location, his status and welfare. And the sudden ticking timer they were working against meant that the Bats didn't have time to force the answers out of Slade. Batman was the only one being forced to cooperate in all reality. His sons were more than willing, and able, to bite their tongues and follow the mercenary into battle. 

“You don't make any decisions without informing us” Batman warned.

Slade smirked and turned to leave, “Keep that in mind for yourself, Wayne” 

Slade looked down at his wrist when a buzz alerted him. He turned his wrist up briefly and frowned, “Make a decision now. The kid’s on the move”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

A thumping pain was the first thing he became aware of. It was overwhelming and compounding to the point of it being all he could acknowledge for a few moments. He inhaled, realizing the resounding pain was coming from his head. He licked his lips and cringed at the feeling of flaky skin and the taste of iron. Little by little, he became more bodily aware of himself and the aches and pains that came with it. He was lying down and everything hurt, like when he used to have headaches that put him out of commission for a few hours. A tired feeling that left him feeling, ugh . He felt the hard floor against his spine and shoulder blades but the slightest movement earned him a complaint for nearly every muscle.

He tried opening his eyes, but when his eyelids refused to obey, he tried to swallow. He fidgeted when that only offered him more notes of dry skin and copper. He gave up, confused and in pain, barely aware of his body, much less his surroundings or what put him there. He groaned, hoping to feel the warm, calloused palm of Wintergreen. The older man always told him, after he felt better, what a difficult and needy patient he was.

There was a shuffle of feet around him, very close in fact. He furrowed his brow in confusion, Are there people standing around my head?

He struggled to move, concern sprinting through him. He was starting to realize he didn't know where he was or why he was in such a state- and that his lack of knowledge was actually a bad thing. His effort to speak only produced a weak sound in the back of his throat, “What a simple creature,”

His mind took a while to understand what was being said but when he did he felt baffled, What the fuck is going on?

He felt more than heard someone stop beside him and get closer, like they were crouching at his side. He tried with all his might to move the hand that felt closer. He willed his fingers to touch whoever was there and dispel the strange, vulnerable stillness he was trapped in. His fingertips brushed something short and soft, like cotton or silk. There was an edge to it that made him suspect he was touching a pant leg. A startling clink would have made him flinch if he could. Another wave of bewilderment seemed to overwhelm him, and the only thing that came to mind over that sound was a chain, a large one, but that couldn't be right.

He tried swallowing again, but his tongue felt overly large, and his throat too narrow. He turned his head towards the person at his side and finally managed to pry open his eyes, squinting past the achiness that bombarded his head. He whimpered as a new wave of dizziness and pain washed over his head and down through his eyes, leaving another more obscene round of thumping pain to take root everywhere north of his neck. In fact, it felt like someone had nailed him in the forehead with the smallest, yet sharpest, baseball in the world.

He turned his head, attempting to escape the pain, but the only thing it did was make his cheek feel sticky. He cringed inside, realizing he must have rolled onto some disgusting splatter on the floor. He hoped it wasn't piss. He turned the other way, back to the person at his side, and tried to see past the pain, blinking up at the individual. The first thing he spotted was a white suit and even whiter hair. The figure at his side was large and foreboding with trimmed features, and-Dick did a double-take, assuming he had hit his head and was seeing a man with golden eyes. But he himself had distortedly golden eyes…because he was a talon. His grandfather had made him into a talon- into Talon . His brain was slow and foggy, dragging his logical efforts from one lethargic conclusion to the next.

His breath hitched, and his vision cleared just in time to hear the man speak. His trimmed and pristine features came into view, and the pounding ache in his skull and eyes faded beneath the feel of rising panic, “Look who’s finally awake,” the older man cooed, leaning in.

Within seconds, his body was overheated and prickling. He could barely feel his limbs beneath the crushing weight of every negative and all-consuming feeling the human body could manage at once. His chest was hot, but he shivered beneath his Grandfather’s piqued attention. His throat was tight, but his voice was non-existent, swallowed beneath the size of his tongue as he flailed for answers. 

 

Where’s Slade?

Where’s Wintergreen?

Where am I? Why am I-?”

 

“Come now, my boy,” Cobb spoke, earning a fearfully bewildered expression in return, “Aren't you glad to be back with family?”

Despite his inability to function, to escape, or do much of anything, Dick felt his mind manage to grasp at memories, offering him partial answers. He remembered moving in with Slade for what should have been a simple contract. Slade had gotten the hit offered to him anonymously, but that was normal, was it? Slade had said it was normal for people to pay killers and never offer their name or face. But then everything had become cold, so, so cold and Dick couldn't move fast enough. Laser pen , his mind whispered. Only half away, Dick glanced down at his hand, feeling like he just had something within his grasp.

He remembered flashes of conversation. Slade had tried stalling. He’d shot at Cobb…No…other talons?

Cobb had reinforcements. He’d had more talons? How?

He remembered his face meeting the floor...a metal floor that had been nearly as cold as the air that had fallen on him like a weighted blanket. He could barely move his fingers to press his laser to the seam of the door. Something else had happened. Had they run away? No, if that were the case, they would have gotten away. Did Cobb have Slade? It almost didn't matter, because Cobb had him, and that was nearly as bad as anything could get. 

He was sitting? No, the world had been upside down, and something had been pressing against his stomach. Slade had slapped him, but it had all felt like a dream where his mind and body were working against him. There were gunshots, and it had been so loud. he remembered nearly tearing up over how hard it was to listen to Slade's orders. Dick’s breath became unsteady and warbled as realization dawned on him. Still on the ground, he brought a shaky hand to the wetness on his cheek, feeling his fingertips smear the tacky substance. He trailed the drying substance all the way up until he found a raw patch of tender, soft flesh on his forehead. He drew his fingers away immediately, the tender flesh searing a hot sensation beneath his touch.

“Ahhhh”, Cobb said, “There it is. Is it coming back, my boy? I shouldn't be surprised you’re having some trouble remembering what with the wound being in the brain and all”

He tapped Dick’s temple with his finger, almost in a grandfatherly sort of fashion. He cringed away on instinct, fearful of that sharp, hot, searing sensation to return tenfold. 

“No”, he whispered.

“ No ”

He shook his head. He had to get away. He had to end this. He-he had to be somewhere different. He couldn't be back here with this man-this monster. Before he realized it, he was up on his hands and then his elbows and his hands again. It was difficult. The floor was suddenly closer. He was on his knees now. He scrambled backwards, somehow pushing past the agony crawling up his bones and gnawing at his skin. His vision swam from the sudden movement and his stomach threatened to rebel. 

“I told you to fucking knock this shit off Klarion!”

There was no answer, no sudden appearance of the oily witch, no matter where he looked. He looked back…his Grandfather remained as solid as ever. He swallowed quickly and multiple times in a row. Cobb smiled warmly at him and rose to close the distance between them. His sharp, clean heels clicked on the cold floors as if each step was another lash across his back, another command to stay silent.

“Don’t,” he stuttered, still crawling backward. His right leg jerked to a stop, and he froze in surprise. The clinking sound from earlier came back to his half-aware mind, and he found a chain connected to his ankle, welded messily to the floor, not 4 feet from where he’d woken up.

Cobb smirked at his stunned expression and continued advancing. He couldn’t remember feeling more cornered, more weak, or vulnerable than he did now. His death and soullessness were physically advancing towards him. The one being who had stripped him of memories and autonomy in a way that made him feel like they were a privilege and not a born right.

“Stop,” he stuttered out harsher. His monster advanced. He wouldn't stop coming, but he couldn't find a way to escape. His mind was shutting down; fight and flight were both unavailable to him.

“Stop!” he yelled out. His voice cracked in desperation, but the man seemed to halt. He panted, cold sweat crawling down his spine…or maybe it was more blood.

Cobb took another slower step forward until he could kneel before him. The older man reached out, and all the boy could do was try and lean away from the inevitable hand. It was an awkward position when his right foot was stretched as straight and long as he could force the ligament. Cold firm flesh connected with his, but he couldn't contain the strangled whimper that left his throat. Cobb leaned in closely, “You do not give orders, Grey Son,” he reminded kindly.

His voice turned hard and icy cold, reminiscent of cold dark cells and painfully bright white rooms, “You take them”

 

Chapter 38

Notes:

Hey! Sorry this one is dark and slow.

He gasped and choked, but the air just wouldn't come. His lungs were burning, struggling, but no matter how hard he gasped, oxygen evaded him. His head hurt, his skin prickled horribly, and he couldn't see straight. The world tilted, but as soon as he blinked in an effort to see more clearly, the world seemed to flip and shift again-countering his every effort for clarity. His head-his throat! He panicked at the sudden thought that the world tilting was just his head falling from his shoulders.

He snapped a hand up to his throat but felt smooth, connected skin. Dirty by all accounts, filthy with dried blood and grime, but there was no gash or wound.

Oh…right…that was before

His hand dragged down from his throat to his chest, cringing at the wet squelch his fingers made when he dragged too deeply over the open wound in his chest. His throat hadn’t been slit this time. This time, he’d been stabbed through the chest. He furrowed his brow past the rising headache, he couldn't even remember what had killed him this time.

“Shall we try again, my boy?”

Dick jerked violently, cursing himself for his dazed moment of weakness. He looked up to find Cobb standing over him. They’d been at it since Dick had woken up and he was starting to wither beneath the consistency of death. Cobb tilted to his right but when Dick blinked again he was still watching him expectantly. Dick had tried the silent treatment as soon as reality had set in and he realized where he was and who had him cornered. When that displeased his grandfather, the punishments started. The cuts and stabs and slashes all along his body and extremities. He was shirtless and missing his shoes, but his skin was an artwork of dried blood and wet filth. Looking at the long rivulets of red down his arms and shins reminded him of an art project he and Damian did once. Damian had hot-glued crayons across the top of a canvas and then held a blow dryer to them until they melted and started to trickle down the canvas, creating a multi-colored ratio of wax rain across the art piece.

Dick felt like a brown and red version of that art project.

The first thing he did was try to run. It had been hard and disorienting to get his feet under him. It was even harder to get his thighs moving and to break the chain holding him, but he'd managed it. His panic had been blinding and enlightening, forcing him to act on instinct. He hadn't made it to the nearest window before he was dogpiled and tackled by the horde of talons Cobb had re-amassed. He assumed he had hit his head rather hard because after that was a blur. A combination of pulsing pains behind his eyes and pressure against his limbs as he was held down. It was harder and harder to attempt an escape every time after that but Dick wasn't sure if his fear was self-crippling or if he was being injected with something inhibiting. 

He’d done his best to shut out everyone and everything. He knew Slade would come for him. The mercenary had obviously realized how outnumbered he was after Dick had been killed so he'd run. Dick didn't blame him-it was the smart decision and Slade hadn't built a private militia empire off of stupid decisions. He wondered if the killer was gathering resources or men, or both, but Dick hardly had the mental effort to seriously consider it. He repeatedly told himself that Slade was returning and that was all that mattered. It was a when and not an if, and that seemed to help him….slightly.

He ran through every mantra and calming exercise he could. He started with the ones Megan had taught the entire Young Justice Team up until he was forced to go through the ones Dr. Leslie had given him when his family had found him with half a mind. Dick didn't respond to his name and looked away, counting down from 100 by odd numbers only. He’d already gone through even numbers and by 10s a few times. He heard his grandf-Cobb sigh above him, “While you are proving needlessly difficult, I must commend you on how tenacious you can be”

Dick hated the backward compliment. He hated that the man still spoke to him like he was 12 and they had a close family relationship. He hated-Dick looked up to convey his glare before he realized his mistake. The moment his eyes met Cobb’s, the man’s grin faded beneath his order, “Grey Son, blue ”

Dick jerked in response, nearly seizing in the effort to remain unaffected and unmoved by the order. When Cobb first began using phrases and words on him again, Dick told himself that taking note and remembering those words would help him rule out any remaining weaknesses that still hung over his head, but that notion was quickly discarded because as soon as he began to focus, even minimally, on the verbiage…he felt it. He felt the itch in his palms and the pins and needles in his knuckles. He felt the vibration beneath his skin and the pull at the soles of his feet. 

Everything in him was desperate to respond to the command, the tone . It drove Dick crazy with shame and spite, to be reminded of how weak his mental landscape was to words . Just words. His knees pulled with the echo and urge to slam against the ground and bend over and prove he could obey. His palms tingled with an urge beyond his sanity, driving Dick closer and closer to the edge.

Cobb tried one more time, “ Blue , Grey Son”

Dick jerked his head down and to his feet, focusing every iota of mental effort on counting his toes: 1,2,3,4,5. Next foot: 1,2,3,4,5. Back to the other foot-it wasn’t clean and it wasn't foolproof but Dick’s mind was gnawing at the bars of his own lucidity and he needed something to do, something else to focus on.

He couldn't remember feeling more conflicted over not responding… not obeying. Even thinking back to what he remembered of his time with the Court felt different. When Cobb spoke now, he felt his brothers and Bruce…even Slade’s disappearing features, reminding him not to respond. Cobb equated to bad, and he wanted to believe that…he truly did. But his limbs ached and struggled against his own muscles when he didn't rise for Cobb. When he didn't kneel and prostrate himself, he knew the older man was looking down on him in disappointment and Dick had to look away else his grandfather spot the shame coating his cheeks. 

He despised himself, the man, and the situation as a whole with every fiber of his being. Dick had spent the last few years learning from Slade and taking on contracts so that when this moment arose, he wouldn't respond exactly how Grey Son would be expected to. His brothers and Bruce thought it was solely because he wanted to protect them from a distance, to keep them safe through the elimination of threats…but only Slade knew deep down that Dick had accepted his teachings so that he could carve out any remaining weaknesses. He wouldn't simper mindlessly after another master against his will. He refused. For a few glorious seconds, Dick's mind drifted, fantasizing over the way Dick should stand and ignore his grandfather. He'd walk past the man and prove he was immune to- the mental image faded quicker than a blink as a talon behind Dick shifted.

“Kneel, boy,” Cobb commanded. Dick, still curled into a ball on his butt, tensed violently; fighting the order with every ounce of power he could muster. He could also see it in his head. He’d lean forward and support his weight with his palms, almost like a push-up. He’d wait for grandmas-Cobb to allow him up and-

He dug his nails into his legs, relishing in the sharp break of his skin. Dick shook his head, desperate to rid himself of the mental image permeating his mind and body. He dragged his attention upward and glared mutinously at Cobb. The man looked down at him with disappointment that scratched against the grain inside his head, “Pity,” the man said. A set of hands descended onto his shoulders from behind. Dick startled before another set of hands stilled his neck and kept him from rotating. One hand moved down and out of sight before cutting across his neck to the other shoulder in a quick motion. The hands pulled away and a mortifying sense of vertigo washed over Dick, worse this time. He swayed despite being seated on the ground. It felt like someone had installed an out-of-control pendulum inside his skull.

Stunned and slightly fearful, he looked up at Cobb, but the man’s attention was jumping from his face to his throat. He sensed a sudden warmth and wetness there now that he really thought about it. He brought one free hand up and frowned at the thick, wet substance coating his neck…and his chest…he brought his fingertips up to find them coated in red. Mild surprise was all he could muster. He looked around for Damian in a stupefied way, I think Dami got some of that melted cran stuff on me . The world swam violently and Dick’s next blink found him on his back.

His following blink took a moment longer, but when his vision cleared again, he found numerous golden eyes watching him from above. Dick’s brows broke in confusion. His head was hurting again… like he’d hit it rather hard.

He intended to bring a hand to his head, but his fingers did little else than twitch, My throat hurts .

He tried blinking again, but never opened his eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Dick spat and jerked from where he was restrained against the wall. Every time he opened his eyes, he found himself in a new place. He wasn't sure if they kept moving locations or just rooms, but it threw Dick off every time.

He’d come back to himself a little better, more aware, more quickly, and played possum. He kept his breathing even and deep, allowing his body to accept the agony and pains radiating up and down. His throat had been cut again, he realized eventually. He couldn't recall how many deaths that was now. He couldn't even recall how long he’d been captive; his only awareness was punctuated by waking moments and death.

His body wasn't being allowed to heal or recuperate in the slightest, which left him taking longer and longer to come back and feeling worse each time. He knew his eyes were nowhere near his natural shade of blue because of how much his body was solely relying on electrum instead of white blood cells to heal. He could feel the effects start to show along his body from the ache in his temples to the dark veins pushing up through his skin. He tried not to look at his arms but could only imagine how dark and marred his face and neck were with the evidence of his body’s subservience to the electrum.

He’d listened and waited, counting the footsteps as they approached and faded. Striking at the perfect moment, he’d gathered his pathetically limited strength, snapped his chain, and taken out his guards before he’d been shot full of who knows what. His body was past aching from the constant assaults and mysterious serums. His skin was always hot, and his head always hurt. It was a matter of how much pain he was in now that dictated how well he could see or keep his balance. 

Cobb had ordered him pinned against the wall and given the option to kneel or die. He’d chosen the obvious answer, but it seemed as though Cobb was interested in prolonging his death this time, “When Deathstroke gets here-”

“Say one more word about that failed nationalistic lab experiment and you’ll lose your tongue, boy,” the older man warned, “Besides,” he sneered, “He’ll have to find you first”

Dick glowered, confirming that they were changing locations. It didn't matter, he knew Slade had chipped him when the electrum had proven too unstable early on-too demanding of Dick's mind and body.

Cobb watched Dick, waiting for him to give in and kneel. He waved his hand and turned on his heel, issuing a new order, “Beat him to death”

Dick felt the grip on his wrists tighten before the surrounding talons stepped closer. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Again,” Cobb egged him on. Dick panted, his head hung low enough to touch the ground. He felt arms supporting his own from where they’d been bound behind his back, Do what? He wondered. He couldn't think. He could only feel . And everything hurt .

His existence felt like it had been narrowed down to 2 things: dying and receiving punishments. Grandmaster Cobb was doing his best to wear him down, but he wasn't sure why. He wasn't sure of much. He wasn't sure if his Gra-Cobb wanted him to become a talon again, his Grey Son, which he would never do. When he didn't submit and obey, he was killed, which was now becoming a frequently lived experience. So many words and tones thrown at him made his knees weak, his head hurt, and his veins throb. He’d never felt like this-so stretched thin and weary. He could nearly feel the electrum pulsing away beneath his skin, keeping him functioning.

“I said” Cobb spat, earning Dick’s drifting attention, “ Again ”

Dick had no idea what he’d done to warrant Cobb’s anger again and that worried him. It felt like only moments since he’d woken up. In reality, he knew he’d died, but Slade and Wintergreen had suggested he get comfortable with referring to it as waking up…another tactic to desensitize him to all the new changes. He supposed it did work, as thinking how often he’d not only died, but been killed, was a rather gruesome and gory thing to acknowledge. Sometimes he wondered if the tactics Slade had him use were his own or if they'd been researched and asked after. But each option brought him comfort.

When he continued to stare back at his captor in a daze, his grandfather advanced angrily and snatched Dick’s lower face in a calloused grip, making him wince. He cursed himself for his lack of mental agility. It was becoming easier and easier to mentally draft away and detach himself from the issue at hand. He wasn't sure if that was brain damage from dying too often or if his physical state was just worsening altogether. He couldn't even speculate how dehydrated or hungry he was. His throat had never recovered from the sandpaper feeling it had adopted, and his stomach had gone numb with hunger. All he felt was a strange bloated feeling now.

He didn't have the capacity to consider combating Cobb’s words head-on, lest he prove as weak as he feared under Grey Son’s control and Cobb’s commands. So he snarled and jerked his head forward to spit at the man’s polished shoes. Knowing the protocol now for anything other than absolute obedience, he wasn't surprised when he felt a new set of armored hands grab his throat, exactly where he’d been taught to hold someone…except Slade had taught him under the guise of working for the Court of Owls. Bruce had taught him so he knew never to use it.

His vision jerked to the right in a blur before everything ceased to be.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“GAH!” A scream was wrenched from his throat, and for a few horrible seconds, all he could comprehend was a hot searing sensation overwhelming him. Another few seconds passed, and then he realized it was lower…his legs, his right leg.

He trembled and panted, sucking in as much air as he could. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod . He knew he was in shock but registering that did little for him.

He looked around.

He was upside down- no on his back.

There were monsters-talons all around him.

The world swam violently, and his stomach revolted. He heaved before he could take in a full breath and found his throat full of acid and bile, skyrocketing his fear.

He-he couldn't breathe…he-he was turned on his side, but that only seemed to-

He glanced down, seeing the handle of a broad sword sticking up out of his thigh. Blood was pooling rather quickly around his thigh, but all he could do was stare at the thick blade.

His pants leg on his right side had been torn away. Beneath the gurgling blood were ugly black scrawls of roots.

His forehead thumped violently like the floor of a mosh pit, and he blinked, cringing at the acidic taste on the back of his tongue. It was like copper pennies and blood and every rotten flavor possible.

He looked up, but the quick movement did little for his senses before he found his vision blurring and then fading into black.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

"Stop!" Dick had his chin tucked to his chin when he cried out. Beneath the cover of his arms, he hoped it came off as a command instead of a plea but his voice was raw and his stability less so. When no other hit met his body, he chanced a glance upward. Cobb was watching him with bland interest. He swallowed and stared back. He still couldn't believe how pathetic he was-how obvious his weakness was being proven just by falling into Cobb's hands all over again. He thought that Cobb had recalled his talons-regrouped them, and revitalized them with electrum for him to have such a small, strong army at his command. But no one would answer him when he asked.

"I haven't come after you," Dick said quietly. He knew it was pointless to accuse Cobb of being unjustifiably cruel and preemptive.

Cobb smirked sardonically, but it lacked the danger it had held recently, "Don't play me for a fool, boy. It's only because you haven't felt ready yet. I've kept track of my dwindling colleagues over the years, although if I'm being honest, you've done the world a favor. Most of them were far too weak to be deserving of how much power they held"

Dick watched his grandfather monologue but didn't interrupt. His mind whispered coward when he sat and listened, but he was tired . Tired and scared and in the dark. He needed a breather. A moment awake that wasn't spent in punishment. Cobb crossed his arms and cocked his head in a way that Dick hated. Tim had commented on Dick's habit of doing so as a teen and he hated any resemblance between him and his ancestor. 

"Do you know why you're special, Richard?" Dick stopped short, wholly unprepared.

"Do you know why you are the Grey Son?"

It took a moment for him to realize it was a legitimate question. he didn't want to shake his head and look foolish, "The electrum?"

Cobb frowned before the look lessened, "The evolution project?" he inferred for Dick. Dick nodded warily.

Cobb looked contemplative, "In a way," he relented, "But your purpose and your relation to a much grander scale of things is actually much bigger than that. Much bigger than I initially realized actually"

Dick must have looked interested and confused because Cobb smirked and continued, "Why do you think you survived the Evolution project, my boy?"

Dick frowned and paused before he answered. He survived because of the electrum-, No, part of his mind was quick to whisper, the evolution project's goal was to inject his white blood cells with electrum as a fetus. His pause must have been obvious because the older man above him looked gleeful and certain of himself, "Ahhh, see my boy? We have a bit of a chicken and the egg scenario here"

Dick couldn't smooth his perplexed expression. He looked up in bewilderment, realizing more and more how utterly in the dark and oblivious he'd been to something so significant. How had he survived in the womb? He understood how he survived everything after being born. How going after the Joker and getting himself killed had awakened an aspect of his genetics. But when he was an active test subject? Why didn't he die? How did he make it past being just another miscarriage?

Instead of answering him plainly, Cobb tipped his head, "How have you found Vandal Savage?"

Dick's mouth jumped to accuse Cobb of working with the Light and demand to know who helped arrange this ambush but Cobb spoke over him, "He was rather insistent that Deathstroke accept his contract correct? Oh, don't look at me like that child. You are not paranoid, the entirety of that organization is not out to get you; yet"

Dick glared back, silently fuming. He didn't believe a word of it.

"Now, tell me my boy. Did you know that it was to keep you close? How transparent has he been with that pseudo-master of yours?"

Dick reared back and spluttered, "Why would Vandal Savage have any interest in me? He wants Slade killing for him-he even gave him a list and said, have at it!" Dick threw up a hand in frustration and glared at the chains attached to his limbs when they clinked at every movement. Cobb seemed amused by his outburst, "I never said any differently, merely that contracting that mercenary was and is a ruse"

Dick didn't give an inch, "That doesn't explain why he would have any interest in me. How do you even know him?"

Cobb paused in his response and seemed to choose his words delicately, "Do you know" he started slowly, "That Vandal Savage has been funding the Evolution project since before I was even a member of the Court?"

The implications of Savage being more involved and aware of the Court of Owls than Cobb was a sickly revelation, "You're lying" he uttered. Cobb beamed like he was sickly proud of Dick's expression, "Indeed, my boy, indeed! Now, do you know why Vandal Savage would be interested in you to such a degree as orchestrating an uneccessary agreement with Deathstroke the Terminator?"

Dick shook his head, in denial before Cobb had even presented any facts, "He's-he's like the longest-lived immortal. He-"

"Exactly" Cobb hissed eagerly.

"What would he want with me?! How does this have anything to do with that fucking evolution project!"

"He is your creator"

Dick's eyes were so wide his eyeballs stung slightly, "What?" his breath trembled.

Cobb shrugged like he hadn't just said something devastating, "Well, similarly to me in a way. That man is so full of himself he no doubt believes he is the sole reason for your existence, but he isn't. I had as much a hand in your coming to be as he did"

Dick couldn't breathe. He-he couldn't breathe. Would there ever be a time when he wasn't being informed about his own existence?

"You're lying" he repeated in a whisper. Cobb tsked, "I'm not, truly, my boy. Haven't you ever wondered about your mother's heritage?"

Dick reared back like he'd been slapped. Cobb nodded, "You don't think I'm claiming to be some distant relative of that barbarian, do you?"

Dick raised his voice before he could regulate himself, "I don't know anything!?" he cried out in frustration. Cobb narrowed his eyes, "Watch your tone boy"

Dick barred his teeth, "Fuck y-"

Dick's face was forced into the ground as Cobb made a flicking gesture to the talon behind him. He grunted and tried not to breathe in the dirt and filth until the hands on his nape let up. He slowly pushed himself back up after a minute. He found Cobb watching him, and when he didn't speak, Cobb nodded and continued, "Vandal Savage is a biological freak, a miracle in some ways if you will. There is no proven ancestor before him, only descendants after him that can be confirmed"

Dick scoffed, "What is he, Jesus?"

Cobb nodded like Dick was offering a valid criticism, "The man mostly views himself on such a level, but my point is that when the Court of Owls formed in the late 1900s, Vandal Savage played a key role in cultivating who formed their board. From there, certain families and persons of interest made sure Gotham was well-guarded and protected. Over the years, he humored certain decisions and funded other motives but one in particular was driven purely by his own motives, until I myself joined the Court"

It didn't make any sense yet but Dick connected the dots well enough, "The evolution project?"

Cobb nodded, "Vandal savage has been funding the Court with medical professionals and finances for longer than you could imagine. For years, years my boy, it proved to be a bust. Every mother that survived the fetal treatment plans miscarried"

"Wonder why" Dick muttered scathingly.

"When I climbed the ranks and proved myself, I had the opportunity to contribute a certain perspective that changed things" Cobb explained, "Savage listened after a while which only proved to enhance my sway and power in the Court"

"What did you do?" Dick asked in dread.

Cobb grinned wolfishly, "I proposed a simple theory. We were experimenting with genetics, yes? If so, then why wouldn't we be selective with all aspects of our experiments"

Dick cocked his head, "So what? You were picky about the mothers that you tortured?"

Cobb rolled his eyes, "These women all knew what they were signing up for. Even yours, Richard. It was not my prerogative to ensure anything that came after their birth, just that their child would be well and healthy and durable enough to survive anything the world threw at them"

Dick bit his cheek as hope flared in his chest at the notion that his mom and dad might have been manipulated into thinking they were merely helping their child, not opting into a risky experiment.

"No" Cobb corrected, "What we changed was simple and minute but also ensured the success of everything after. Despite my distaste for the man, I can't argue with the fact that Savage is genetically, naturally immortal. Human or alien, whatever that man is, he has lived eons. I theorized that his encounters throughout those years must have created families. Descendants and generations of men and women who could be traced back to him. If Savage's DNA held a code for natural immortality and revitalization, then so might his offspring" Cobb didn't allow another outburst from Dick. He continued as he paced back and forth in front of the sat dark-haired man, "We vetted the gene sequence of every mother who opted into the program and if they proved to have greater than a .00001% chance of that same durable gene mutation proving to be dominant rather than recessive, then the mother's system would be strong enough to nurture and create a child that could as well"

He waved a hand in the air to convey the inconvenience of it all, "Of course, this was much harder said than done as the majority of participants didn't have the XI gene we were looking for, and fewer had it recessively. Only two women in our entire program had the dominant gene but it was of no use to them ultimately, especially after we 

"No" Dick shook his head at the implication.

Cobb nodded and grinned over Dick's horror, "Your mother was one of the many who passed the initial DNA verification tests. She had enough of a biological connection to be allowed into the program, and when I learned that one of my own great-great-grandchildren had wed her and joined Haley's circus, well" Cobb clapped his hands in utter joy, "I just knew you would be our success. Our Grey Son. The only surviving fetus of Savage's electrum-infusing experiment just happened to be my descendant?" Cobb scoffed at the notion that anyone would call that a coincidence, "A natural born talon if there ever was. Can't you see boy? This notion of independence and materialistic wishes that Wayne has filled your head with are foolish-pointless! You were created to serve purposes! For the Court as our Grey Son and as a continuation of Vandal Savage-an extension of a new natural superhuman line-an elevated race-"

"No!" Dick had had enough.

Cobb was joyous and prideful, "A child that had inherited the dominant gene of Savage's immortality," he ticked off fingers as he went, "My far descended grandchild, and an offspring of Haley's Circus! Can't you see now, boy? The futility of your fight? You were born to the Court. You came to us through your mother and father to be the Grey Son. A child of great origins and poor beginnings. Fate placed you in the Court's lap. If Wayne never plucked you from your rightful spot, you would have been chosen and trained like any other proper talon. You would not have this natural resistance to your true place" he waved a hand in the air and scrunched his nose at the reminder of Dick's hatred for the Court and his title.

Numbness was setting in and hazing the corners of Dick's vision. He almost wondered if he'd been killed again and was in the process of fading again.

"It's quite ironic too" Cobb mused, "Your parents were not keen on the idea initially" he rolled his eyes at the memory, "The number of miscarriages I had to ensure your mother suffered until they were ready for IVF support and fetal treatment plans" he made a sound like it was just another incovneince.

The world titled beneath Dick-no...it cracked, "You-" no , "You what?" Cobb looked at Dick impatiently, expecting him to finish his statement, "I was supposed to have siblings?"

Cobb rolled his eyes, "If you're only going to focus on petty frivolous things, I'll end this conversation now-"

"I-" Dick reared forward with a power he didn't feel he had 2 minutes ago, "Was suppo-" he was furious-beyond anger and past spite. He couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt so righteous and justified in his need to extinguish another person's existence. He was spitting in anger and acrimony, "I-you took-?!" he could barely gather the words behind a growing haze of red and heat, much less formulate them coherently. 

Cobb halted in his dismissal of Dick when he managed to shove himself to his feet and strain forward against his bindings. The chains at his back knocked together angrily and the talons lining the back wall rushed to address him but Dick didn't give anything else a care. A savage, horrible cry ripped from his throat as he threw himself at the white-clad man in front of him, "I'll kill you!" Hands tugged him back down with a jarring force. He barely noticed the way his head snapped back against the floor, "I hate you!" he screamed, "I-"

Everything went black.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

He panted in the dark, unable to block out the chants.

He’d woken up painlessly for the first time in a long time, and it had taken a second for him to remember that he was holding out for Slade to return. 

He listened, tensed, and on edge. Instead of the sharp clean clicks of polished shoes meeting his ears, a strange vibration was heard instead. He strained, trying to make it out when it began to clarify, morphing into chants and words.

 

“Grey Son”

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

There was no rhythm or pattern to it, it was as if a swarm of voices had been created to repeat the same phrase over and over again, starting and pausing at random times until he could never not discern some portion of what was being said.

He hated it.

He was blindfolded, he realized.

He couldn't see and he couldn't move, but on some level, he preferred the panicked immobility over the white room. He hated how he was left to his own devices…just him and that sharp bright white overhead buzzing.

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

The blindfold was soaked through. He’d been unable to stop the tears and just let them have their way.

He was so tired.

He wanted a break….a pause….something. His body ached to the point that the sensations felt like they’d been biologically ingrained into his bone structure. His eyes hurt and his ears seemed muffled with the continuous static chants of talons all around him.

 

He was so tired.

He was so so tired.

 

Where was Slade? Where were his brothers? Where was his dad?

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Blue”

The single word was the first thing he’d heard in a long time. Eventually, the chants had ceased and he lay there in silence, soaking in the blessed lack of sound. Then the silence became noise…a buzzing that filled his ears and wouldn't leave. It permeated his brain and head and ate at him in a way that had him grinding his teeth and fidgeting.

The moment he heard that command, he’d moved before he could think rationally. That meant being ready to receive orders. To be ready…to be prepared. He shoved himself to his feet in a flurry of uncoordinated limbs and heaving breaths. He felt so out of shape. He was still blindfolded but he could feel his steadiness leave him the second he moved too fast. 

I need to respond t -

He was jerked down by chains encircling his wrists. He stopped and stumbled, too weak to win against the metal and vertigo. A sound of confusion escaped his throat as he struggled to respond, to find his Grandm-

“Better," A voice stated.

Fingers appeared on the back of his skull and tugged down the blindfold.

Dick looked up in a daze, his clouded eyes landing on Grandmaster's face feet from his collapsed figure. Dick’s cheeks burned as his behavior came rushing back to him. He was grateful no one else was present to see his leap to respond to the man.

“Again”

Dick jerked as a cacophony of voices started up again. He thought he’d been alone this whole time. The voices weren't loud, but the way in which they started up again and drilled into the same sensitive parts of his brain made it feel louder than he knew it was.

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

 

 

 

 

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

“Grey Son”

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Listen" Dick looked up at the talons around him. He tried grinning but winced when the movement only stretched his shredded lips, "I-"

"Not another word, boy" Cobb's tone cut him to the bone. Dick fell silent but he told himself it was only because he was tired and weary.

"I'm tired," he sighed, "Can't you kill me again?"

He couldn't remember how he woke up. The last 20 minutes weren't even very clear to him and he was doing his best to act out of character. Grandm-Cobb wanted Grey Son and Dick refused to let him out. Dr. Leslie had already warned him and Bruce of the dangers of thinking like that. She had reiterated to Dick plenty of times that he was himself and nothing would change. She used to say it in such a nice, soothing way that Dick almost believed her. He had almost come around to trusting her when she stated that going by different names didn't mean anything to who he was and how he acted-how he made decisions.

That was until he heard her drilling Bruce in his study.

 

"You can't encourage different names and identities, Bruce. Dick is more susceptible to it than any of my other patients. Even his parents gave him another name to perform under. Robin, Nightwing, Grey Son! There's too many different people with the same face-"

"These are all facets of the same person, Leslie. Dick is fine-"

"He is the opposite of fine," she snapped back, "And you are the last person I'd ever trust judgment from on multiple personality abnormalities"

Bruce's study fell silent for a few minutes.

"Look" Leslie sighed, "I'm just being adamant. It's important that Dick doesn't start associating different behaviors with each title or name. Do you realize how confusing this will be for him when he has to come to terms with this all later? He'll need to reconcile with himself and acknowledge that no matter what name he did things under, he still did them Bruce . He can't blame it on Nightwing or someone else-"

 

Cobb's footsteps jarred him from his daydreaming. He glanced up from his bent-over position where he knelt on the floor. His knees had fallen numb and his wrists were close behind. He jerked in surprise when the older man didn't halt his descent. He stepped closer and closer before kneeling just in front of Dick. 

Dick swallowed heavily, unsure and wary of what was coming next. Before he could speak, Cobb reached out for him. The movement was slow, like when petting a skittish predator. Dick's gaze jumped from the hand to Cobb but could do little else besides leaning away. Cobb gripped his chin gently and looked him in the eyes with a softness that startled Dick. It bothered him, and he knew it showed. It was an amalgamation of a parent's pity and respectful woe. The closest Dick had ever seen was when his own actions resulted in consequences that left him surprised and crying. Alfred offered him a similar look before looking past his childish behavior to prioritize comfort in the moment. 

He tried pulling away, but his bound arms at his back and his kneeling position offered him very little in the way of movement. Cobb tsked and brought his hand up to gently thumb his cheek. Dick's confusion grew and indented his brow. For a moment, everything stilled. Cobb watched Dick but he didn't feel like he was just being watched, he felt like he watching back. He'd never been this close for this long without being subject to punishment. His grandfather's eyes were surprisingly faded. Almost more grey than blue and it had Dick wondering if that would happen to him at some point. If it had already happened to Slade. Did living more lifetimes than you had a right to physically show? Did all the cruelty committed and loss of loved ones slowly start to excrete from the soul and bleed out the color in someone's eyes?

How long would Dick have to lie before his eyes weren't blue anymore? Before his brother noticed they were more grey than anything else? 

"So much like your father" Cobb murmured. Dick's breath caught and although the air around them was still and quiet, now it felt frozen. Cobb smiled slightly but it was sad, "I didn't raise him of course but his parents, my grandchildren, passed rather early. It was sad and-" his eyes scrunched as he sought the right word" difficult not to intervene. But I wasn't in a position to do so yet. I wasn't part of the Court's board until your father was a young man. I was so pleased when he met Mary"

Dick was okay with never breathing again if it meant his grandfather would continue. Dick had been too young to have had an interest in certain things when they passed. He never asked about family or his parents' childhoods. He didn't find interest in much more than their smiles and his day-to-day fun in the circus. He was desperate for more, but not for how to ask, "I miss them" he whispered.

Cobb's jaw tightened with an internal struggle that Dick had never seen before.

As if speaking them out loud was all his emotions were waiting for, a painful, sharp throb pierced his chest and the backs of his eyes simultaneously. He missed his family so much . He missed his friends and his brothers and his parents and his dad, "I miss my dad" he whispered. The sad mournful eyes staring back at him shifted, hardening into a strange sort of shrewdness. 

"Blue"

"Dead little bird"

His organs were going to force their way out via his throat, he was sure of it.

" Claws out"

The word hit Dick like a sledgehammer to the chest. He heaved and doubled over, nearly slamming his forehead into the ground. 

"Blue"

It was said sharply and with demand. His stomach revolted, and his head pounded. Dick gagged and heaved, dry heaving spit and bile, "Nn-"

"Grey Son, obey" Grandmaster ordered. He was so close, nearly speaking into his ear. He wanted to obey. He did . But everything hurt and nothing made sense and-

Dick heaved again and made a low keening sound when it felt like every organ in his chest wanted to exit his throat. He needed help-wanted help-wanted something other than this, "We-ma-" he inhaled shakily, "Grandmaster....w-Lincoln?"

He glanced up, desperate to have his sole friend nearby. Lincoln always made him feel better. Even when the older boy couldn't intervene on his behalf, he stayed and offered a distraction. He'd tap his toes or maintain eye contact with him; something. Grandmaster was looking down at him in disdain. His gaze was cold but Grey Son wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve that look. Grandmaster rolled his shoulders but ignored his question, "At least this is progress," he stated. He lifted a hand and motioned with his fingers when something slammed down on his nape and silenced all other thoughts.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Say it”

Slap

“Say it, boy”

A backhand

“Now”

Dick’s head drooped to the side, the neck along his throat and nape long gone. His cheek had gone numb long ago, and his right eye was starting to lose vision from the swelling.

“Last chance, Grey Son”

Dick barely had the energy to feel spite, let alone portray it on his face…but he tried, “Fk' you” he murmured. The movement spilled more spit and blood down his split lip.

Cobb wasn’t very happy when Dick woke up with more in-tune faculties. He’d been trying to get Dick to acknowledge his name was Grey Son until recently. The few times he’d woken, it had been to be subject to subservience. Cobb wanted him to call him Grandmaster and Dick knew that would be the start of his submission. The beginning of him giving in…which he would not do. It was still hard to think and sometimes see past his blinding headaches, but he’d gained a second wind. Almost like his body was using his last field reserves to push his electrum to its maximum capacity, allowing him a brief clarity of mind once more.

He refused to give in, but it was becoming harder to combat Cobb. Denying him often involved interaction and looking at the man, and that was an awful idea. Looking at the man’s bright eyes and sick grandfatherly smile did something to Dick. Made his mind wander and yearn for a type of approval he knew only Grey Son would want.

He was not Grey Son. He was a Grayson.

Just hold out till Slade comes back.

It hasn't been that long.

Dick kept reminding himself of the same few things to stall his deteriorating mind and hope but it was hard when he had no true basis for anything. He had no idea how many times he'd been killed or moved. He didn't know where they were or what Cobb’s actual goal was. He didn't know anything besides the fact that Slade wouldn't leave him to his fate. 

Cobb sighed, sensing the pointlessness in pushing for Dick to call him master, “Very well, my boy. Remember, I gave you a chance”

He lifted a hand in a lazy cavalier hand, signaling the talons at his back to step forward. Dick tensed, prepared for yet another death, when instead he was hefted up and dragged further into the room. Dick, shackled by his hands and feet, looked to Cobb in confusion. Was he about to be strung up and lashed to death?

Grey Son had been punished in a similar manner early on…years ago.

But no, Dick was dragged forward and down a hall to another opened space. It reflected the last building they were in and held bare thick walls but enough metal to be naturally intimidating to Dick’s wandering mind. He wasn't used to traveling very far. He most often woke up painfully and was put to death in a similar spot after he refused to submit. When it was clear they were moving him a ways away, Dick did his best to stand but his knees proved unreliable when tasked with keeping up at a brisk pace. He wildly glanced around, desperate for clues and finding none.

It wasn't until Cobb walked ahead of them and stopped before a large, blanketed object. The sheet was a thick velvety one, not meant for storage but for show. Cobb offered little introduction or flair, but he didn't need any. He simply removed the cover in one pull and Dick felt his heart stop. Before him lay a coffin that he was all too familiar with. His mind leaped to the recording of Bruce and Clark taking down the Court of Owls’ Gotham base, and with it, all the sleeping, comatose talons left behind. Dick had never been put on ice before…his usefulness was too great and his lifespan as a talon too short. He’d been punished in the incubator plenty of times but never left in there. Cobb stated it was to ensure that all talons knew what it was like to sleep and wake at the beck and call of their true superiors but Dick knew it was punishment for something…not falling to his knees as quickly or offering one too many witty remarks that day. He couldn't be sure of anything except the way his pulse stuttered at the sight of the large off-white container.

He was struggling before anything else could happen. He jerked back, wrenching his arms to the left and then the right. He shoved his feet against the floor and thrust his shoulders back. The men holding his arms were unprepared and fell back, some even let go and Dick didn't waste a second. He threw his legs up and over his head in a front flip, but the weight of the chains challenged his balance with a vengeance. He was quick to take out the two closest to him, reclaiming the freedom to maneuver his chained wrists. His head was still foggy, and his limbs screamed with lethargy. Dick knew that metal chains were no match for him. Mid-sprint and hobble, he yanked his wrists apart only to gasp at the quick, sharp pain that slashed through him. They didn't break.

He glanced down at his chained ankles, knowing that he’d had to break these to have a chance at running but to do so, he’d have to actually grip them. He didn't have the sheer calf strength to rip them apart by merely spreading his legs. I need my arms.

He mentally berated himself for allowing too many complications to traffic his mind. Escape first, worry about details later.

As if to prove himself right about the unnecessary thoughts slowing him down, he narrowly avoided being tackled by a leaner talon on his right. Dick swerved and bent to the side, hearing Cobb's call to control him. He felt a hand grab for his upper arm but Dick was quicker, twisting at a breakneck speed and slamming his elbow into the man’s face. There was a muted cry, and he felt his arm go free. Another hand grabbed for the waistline of his shredded pants and had them on the ground in seconds. Dick twisted wildly and had the man pinned on his back in seconds. He didn't allow himself a minute before he brought both bound hands down on his victim’s face. He rolled off but was accosted again and again until he found himself out of breath and reacting too slowly to dodge and evade well. 

During another scuffle on the ground, one of his attackers jabbed their straight, pointed fingers into his side, just below and into his kidney. A painful spasm flew through his limbs, and he seized for a minute. Another grabebd for his neck and the way Dick tensed against his will, even for that split second, would haunt him. He told himself it was because Slade had taken the submissively scruffing behavior Cobb had instilled and evolved in into a differently intentioned mechanism for contact and reality checks, but Dick knew better. The second’s pause was all that was needed. Dick was overwhelmed and pinned, confused and frustrated all over again. Cobb approached and tsked softly at the struggling dark-haired boy, “My dear boy,” he cooed, “You’re a meta by definition now”

Dick blanched realizing Cobb had placed meta dampening cuffs on him. How did he get those? The Court never used modern submission tools before; they relied on the brute strength of the other talons, and their incubation pods, to keep stray soldiers in line.  Was Slade right? Did the Light turn them over to his merciless relative?

With Cobb near enough and his own frustration paramount, Dick lashed out, needing to hit something…to see his own brute strength confirmed and reassured against days?? Hours?? Of being forced to become the victim again. Dick had no idea how long it had even been. He hadn't been able to speak with anyone besides Gran-Cobb, and when he did, it was just the older man trying to reinforce words and phrases that locked his limbs and sent tremors coursing through his body. He couldn't even ask about Savage or his parents. He hadn't been able to sleep or rest since he was assaulted and shot, either. Contrary to popular belief, when Dick and Slade died, their bodies didn't allow for them to recuperate. All their meta-enhanced features and biology were focused on sustaining the basics of life and bringing them back to functioning capacity. Ensuring that he woke well-rested and refreshed was a luxury that his body did not afford him.

He felt off balance and light-headed, thrown off course and vulnerable to an extent that had him grasping at any opportunity to act out or regain his bearings. It was usually small acts of violence which resulted in further punishment but Dick was grasping at straws. Any extended period of time with his grandfather left him with weak knees and trembling hands. His sleep deprivation was leaving him in near tears at the slightest inconvenience he was presented with. But beneath it all, he was stuck between a raging wave that left him in unadulterated rage at its highest and near suicidal depressiveness at its lowest. Something that his logical attempts at reasoning and preservation were having a harder and harder time combating when faced with Cobb’s strict tone and clipped orders. 

Cobb leaned away with a chuckle, “That's the kind of fire we need, Grey Son”

Dick snarled at the compliment, “Fuck y-” A hand clamped over his neck and forced his face into the ground. He felt his nose shatter and blood clog his throat, forcing a gurgling choke from him. He jerked and spasmed, but all he could do was shakily inhale dirt and debris from the floor. 

“Let him up” The hand relaxed and Dick was quick to steal as much air as he could. While he inhaled, he almost couldn't decipher the taste of copper suddenly pooling in his mouth and down his chin. Undeterred and pushed into flight or fright, Dick tried lunging forward again. A snarling, filthy mess of words and grunts. He’d intend to say, “Fuck you!” and “Let me go” but his discombobulated brain forced them out at the same time which resulted in something along the lines of, “Fuck off m’go!”

He blamed it on the concussion he most likely had. Those same hands from before hefted him enough to drag him back. Despite his struggles, he was brought back before the uncovered machine and shoved to his knees. Two separate talons were already working to turn on the machine and configure it for Dick, “No”

Dick pushed back on his captors, “No no!”

“It’s ok, Grey Son. This will help you. Your soul is not soothed, you have not been amongst family in a long time”

Dick didn't pay any attention to the preaching talon at his right. His eyes were locked on Cobb, frantic and desperate not to be put on ice. Cobb gazed back at him with such cool indifference that Dick found himself questioning his reality. Vaguely, Dick heard the hissing sound of the top opening but his brain was too busy short circutting. Cobb smirked and stepped closer, lowering himself to one knee, “I've heard rumors that Wilson was trying to decondition your training” he slapped Dick’s cheek lightly, “My poor boy. I fear this is my fault, truly. I should have trained you better-”

“Cut the shit” Dick snapped, “You didn't train me at all. Batman did”

Cobb looked saddened before his hand shot out and wrapped around Dick’s throat. Dick froze, his muscles remembering the feel of that calloused hand far too well. He froze, his breath hitched, and his body taunt, “I taught you this…didn't I, boy?”

Dick’s lips pulled back as he watched his grandfather with as much spite and disgust as he could muster, “I. Am. Not. Your. Weapon” he rasped.

Cobb looked disappointed and removed his hand, “You will remember what you are after some rest-”

“No!”

The talons at Dick’s back and sides took their cue and started to manhandle Dick forward. He threw his body to the side and tried to fall limp, acting as dead weight to surprise his captors. He bit and spat, dislocating his shoulder with the force of his wrenching, but he was powerless after so many deaths and wounds forced on him. He’d never felt so human in the hands of his fellow talons. Not since he'd woken up in the Court of Owls’ base as a 17-year-old, scared and alone. The panicked beating of his heart felt loud enough for Cobb to hear. "No!" he threw his head back and smashed it into the body behind him with enough force to break a skull. Unfortunately, he wasn't Superman, who could withstand the consequences of human skin. He heard the body drop behind him, only to quickly be replaced by another, but his own vision was starting to falter. A thumping in the back of his skull rivaled the panic coursing through him quicker than lightning flashes. Warmth tickled the back of his neck and trailed down as Dick fought to steady his vision.

He was forced forward but tripped in the process. He threw out his hands to catch himself against the side and caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the narrow window that was allotted per container. Dick saw, even in the tinted glass screen of the case that he had paled considerably. He wasn't sure if it was from his state of mind or from the ridiculous blood loss and sleep deprivation.

“Stop” Dick looked up from where he was splayed over the side of the off-white case. His vision swam from the sudden movement. Please was on the tip of his tongue but Dick couldn't bring himself to, no matter how erratic and desperate his pulse felt. His grandfather stared back at Dick with a cold gaze, “Submit, Grey Son”

A choked whimper was caught in Dick’s throat as Grey Son scrambled to obey, to respond to his Grandmaster. Dick forced him back by the skin of his teeth and begged him not to give in to the demon in front of them. Cobb saw him bite his cheek, offering pleadingly angry eyes in return, his bright golden irises glistening. His throat bobbed as he anguished before the man, but he cared little, “You are my Grandson. My blood. My tool. My weapon” Cobb leaned in until Dick couldn't smell anything but his cold stale breath, “You. Are. Mine . Boy”

Chapter 39

Notes:

Hey! here's a new ch

“Here,” Deathstroke said over their shared comms line. He, Batman, and his sons descended toward the warehouse in downtown Montreal. It was on the edges of the large city, nearly edging on the reintroduction of greenery and forests as the freeways headed out of the city and towards more secluded suburbs. They’d spent every moment, since they’d found Deathstroke, tracking down Dick’s constantly moving location. To Bruce’s disgruntlement, Slade had confirmed Dick chipped. One that was surface level and could be dug out if the kid really wanted it gone.

They’d barely stayed at the last 3 locations long enough to confirm the crime scenes left behind. The scene was gruesome each and every time, leaving a sight of blood, chains, and ripped clothing at the first location and less at the others. The group had become quiet, interacting with each other only when absolutely necessary. Their trail took them east, leading them to believe Dick was slowly being transported over the border and into America. From there, they weren't confident of Cobb’s plans, but Bruce was begrudgingly prepared to call in Clark to ensure he wasn't moved overseas. He was still working with Barry and Ollie regarding Wonder Woman’s recuperation but Batman knew the blow out would be worse for Dick and the League if the situation wasn't appropriately contained. He hoped it wouldn't come to that, but they were already at the last viable location before the border.

The building was large but simple. Similar to the one Slade had been ambushed in, it was a large abandoned brick-and-mortar storage facility. The second floor’s windows were cracked and busted, but the structure was retained. There were no guards stationed outside or vehicles seen surrounding the building. “No transport. Probably stashed around back,” Redrobin stated. They had just arrived and were only in sight of the east side of the building. 1 set of metal double doors was in sight, but that was all they could pick out from afar.

Slade took out a red and black device to begin scanning the building from afar. “Is that infrared or heat?” Redrobin asked.

“Yes,” Slade answered. 

Redrobin narrowed his eyes, “How do you know they won’t mislead you like last time?” referring to Slade’s recount of the icy fridge containers throwing off his and Dick’s head count.

“They might,” Slade acknowledged, “But they can’t hide like last time. There’s no aspect of the building’s structure that would help distract from their body temperatures.” Slade dropped his wrist device to look at Tim, “Talons have abnormally high body temperatures. It’s part evolution, part electrum.”

“How much have you studied them?” Batman growled. Slade offered him a cursory glance, “About as much as you with your temporary hostage a few years back. It’s plain to see that any animal, human or not, would want to naturally combat and resist such a glaring weakness.”

“The cold?” Robin supplied.

“On top of that, electrum naturally runs 4 degrees hotter than cultured white blood cells”

“Really?” Redrobin asked, “Superman and Wonder Woman are the only ones I know that don't have a body temperature to match humans”

Jason elbowed him, “Stop fangirling with the perv”

Redrobin frowned, “Stuff it, Hood. It’s called educating yourself”

“I was surprised when Richard informed me that you had started community college classes,” Slade said to Jason.

Jason’s brow pinched at Deathstroke, “Why the fuck would he tell you that?”

Slade watched him evenly for a moment before he turned his attention back to the warehouse, “I care little for your standards or morals. Neither do Cobb and his pets”

Batman frowned, understanding the point, “Lethal moves are permitted as long as they are non-lethal by talon standards,” he emphasized. Slade smirked, “I mean it, Wilson” Batman edged, “No decapitation or anything that would warrant them not recovering”

“What? Like an earthquake?”

Batman’s lip pulled back in a furious manner, but Red Robin stepped forward, stealing the attention, “We need to confirm our next move,” he said to Batman. The Dark Knight looked stoically furious but nodded. Slade smirked at the subtle manipulation from son to father, “Richard used to need to do the same thing”

Tim ignored the jab, “We have 10 cryo capsules on us,” he looked at Jason. Redhood nodded and padded his thigh, “I’ve got mine as plastic bullets now. Easier for transport”

“Should we call in reinforcements?” Robin asked.

“Never pegged you for humility, kid”

Robin frowned at the mercenary, “I am not foolish enough to unevenly pit ourselves against multiple immortals with Nightwing on the line”

Slade, still in an unblinking stare with Batman, smirked, “Never said you were the dumbest”

Jason’s shoulders jerked, “The fuck is that s-”

“Focus!” Batman ordered. He looked at Robin, “The League is still busy coordinating the investigation into the events surrounding Wonder Woman’s attack. The Young Justice Team is overseeing all the in-field and ground missions in the meantime, and Superman is coordinating both teams. They are a last resort, not a backup plan”

Robin frowned but didn't argue.

“We should each take a side and work our way i-”

“No,” Slade said simply, not even sparing Redrobin a glance.

Batman’s lip curled., “You do not give the orders here, Deathstroke”

Slade shifted his gaze, “You want to pit your very human sons against the Court’s talons? Cobb is already desperate. They're most likely functioning on kill-on-sight orders”

Redrobin responded before anyone else, “That's a good point. If we split up, though, we need Deathstroke in one group and Red Hood in the other to balance it out the best we can”

“Then let’s go,” Redhood groaned, “2 groups or 1?” he demanded impatiently. 

“1” Batman answered for the group, “Keep a formation of Robin and Red Robin between the rest of us”

Robin crossed his arms, and beside him, Redrobin nodded agreeably, “Let’s go. Everyone, check comms one more time”

Jason ignored the order and checked his guns. He walked past Slade and knocked his shoulder, “With me, Demon Brat” Robin sent a scathing look at the mercenary before strutting off in the same manner. 

___________________________________________________________________________________

 

They approached the east end of the building. Batman had Batgirl pull the building schematics and lay out but it helped very little as it had been legally uncopied by a company for at least 20 years, meaning no city planners would have been sent out to update the building layout, like stairs, doors, and anything else that would be considered an addition. Besides the bodies they spotted throughout the windows, they found more with Sladea's heat scanner. He also identified a large black object that was pulling energy but not emitting heat.

“You said Cobb used liquid nitrogen to slow Dick and disable him” Batman started. Slade nodded, “In gaseous form. It had been pre-filtered into the vents of the building”

“So that container is not holding liquid nitrogen,” he said.

Slade didn't respond at first, “It's hard to confirm that from here. It's not shaped like a gas canister”

Batman didn't respond and proceeded forward. The others followed, falling into formation with Slade in the back and Jason watching from the side. Jason took the lead in disabling the talons they came across. A few times, they were prepared and fought back, but he overpowered them with lethal efficiency. Batman’s brow became heavy set as Redhood relied on slit jugulars and a silencer equipped pistols to the head, robbing the talons of their ability to cry out or warn their next victims. Redhood prowled towards their last barrier. He stood tall and quiet, unblinking in the dark of the building hallway. Back around the corner, the rest of the group waited for him.

Like an owl, a talon’s ears perked, sensing danger. He turned, his arms already half raised, when Jason caught them in a tight grip. He twisted one arm and flung the other away, baring the man's neck. The talon was well-trained and instantly tried to drop and bring his foot up at the same time, giving Jason 2 different issues to combat at once. He took the knee to his sternum while he blocked the incoming attack. Jason didn't waste a second and threw his elbow into the man’s throat. An airy wheezing sound was all that was heard, made even easier by the fact that the man was so much shorter than Jason. The talon brought an instinctive hand to his throat as Jason unsheathed his gun, made a few inches longer by the silencer. He held it up and felt for the perfect moment where the barrel was flush to the man’s rounded temple. He shot, ignoring the loud, wet thump it made.

He caught the talon’s body as he fell limp. He slowly lowered the body to the ground before letting it drop obscenely. Behind him, he heard Batman and the others approach as well. Batman gave him a strained, stern look, “This will not become habit,” he lectured before stalking off. They advanced further down the building. It was hard to tell what it had last been used for, but it was plain to see that it had clearly been abandoned for a while. A variety of packing containers were abandoned every few feet, and the softening material changed from newspaper to packing peanuts. There were rusted chains hanging from one corner and even more disheveled farming equipment like rakes, shovels, and hoes. 

Before them stood a simple swinging double door entrance that looked like the beginning of another room or hallway.

“We need to move,” Batman rumbled, “The longer we leave bodies lying around, the greater our chance of being discovered is”

“Stop” 

Everyone turned to Deathstroke, who stood still at the back of their party. Batman glared but Red Hood spoke up as well, “There’s something-a person”

He was staring at the ground, focusing on whatever only he and the mercenary could pick up auditorily, “More than 2 at least”

Batman let his son focus for another minute. “How many?” he pushed.

Jason frowned, “I don't fucking know” he hissed in a whisper. Redrobin looked concerned, “This could be the back of the building we saw from outside. Men stationed at the doors-”

“It could just be 2 talons,” Robin countered.

“Exactly,” Red Robnin hissed, “This could be anything” he looked at Deathstroke, “Even another ambush”

Slade dipped his chin in acknowledgment, “William Cobb will never best me, but I can acknowledge the danger he poses”

“Right,” Robin snarked, “Because you've died to him twice now”

Slade chuckled darkly, “ He has never killed me, but his talons? Yes”

“We’ll proceed forward with formation 8,” Batman directed. The boys nodded and stepped into place, surrounding the doorway in a V formation. Jason and Bruce watched Deathstroke calmly step into where Nightwing usually placed himself. In the back and to the right, his favored position for a tumble roll in instances where escrima sticks or quick projectiles were required while in the move. They waited with bated breath, watching for Batman’s signal at the head of their configuration. Batman watched Jason, looking for any signs or noises that his non-enhanced ears were unable to pick up. Jason didn't nod to Batman. His helmet stayed locked on the bottom of the door in front of them, and his shoulders tensed severely. Bruce could almost picture the furrowed brow his son wore when highly concentrated on something not yet clear to him, it was a similar look he had when struggling in school.

 

“I’ve got it, Bruce!” A firm, irritated voice whined in his ear.

“Just let Dick sit with you” ghosted his lips and inner jaw, like muscle memory he was refusing to repeat.

 

He refocused, looking at his sons to find that an unspoken realization had swept through their small party. Deathstroke was staring at the door with a firm set to his one visible eye. Bruce followed everyone’s attention to the door as awareness settled in. Cobb knew they were there. Slade and Jason must be hearing more than a few bodies too close to the other side of the door. As much as he despised Jason’s day-to-day habits and Deathstroke as an individual, he didn't doubt their intuitive senses and perception in the field. They knew the difference between walking and shuffling. Measured steps versus casual ones. They were hearing an ambush.

He clenched his jaw and stepped forward. He turned the door handle under his palm and looked to his sons, confirming they had their eyes on him and their hands on their weapons. Damian had short-hand throwing knives and spare batarangs, Tim had his favored bo-staff in hand, and Jason had both guns already palmed. He slowly opened the door and registered the sound of rustling clothing come to a halt. A stillness overcame the room after Bruce opened the door. With his spare hand, he subtly withdrew a flashbang and kept it between the curve of his thumb, keeping the rest of his hand lax.

He stepped into the room to find it was as they feared. It was large, similar to the front of the building that opened up to an enormous packaging area. The room was deeper than it was large, but just as decrepit and dangerous-looking. Strewn rusted metal lay against the side of the east and west walls, and dried tacky puddles of blood were obvious beneath the cracked windows that lined the upper walls. Cobb stood in front of a chair and table, looking out of place in such a filthy environment. He looked no different from when he had the entire Batfamily as his captive. Strangely well-groomed and pressed clothing fitting him to a T. At his back and sides, there were a handful of talons standing at command. Their stiff necks and gold goggles added a level of disturbance in the unexpected situation. Bruce eyed them warily, noting how they were dressed in a way that Dick seemed to prefer nowadays. Dark tactical clothing that covered up to his neck at times. Although, Dick seemed adverse to any color like blue, red, or gold.

Batman counted 20 at a glance but knew that the ones they’d taken out along the way, or others, could enter and put them at a greater disadvantage at any moment.

“Ahh, Batman,” Cobb smiled and spread his arms wide.

“Don’t even tr-”

“Robin!” Batman silenced the boy from speaking out. He turned back to Cobb, “Where is Nightwing?”

“I find your entrance to be in poor taste, Batman. You assault my men and then b-”

“Where. Is. Nightwing,” Batman demanded lowly.

Cobb fell quiet and the genial smile fell from his lips, “Leave, you are outnumbered” his eyes dragged to the back of their party, “Bringing the failed mercenary with you will do nothing to aid you. Did he recount his last interaction with my talons?”

“I doubt you would fare much better if we sent you in against 20 immortal freaks and then fucked up your only partner” Jason sneered. Deathstroke stayed quiet and watched the exchange. A few talons adorning the wall with straight backs and clenched fists, jerked as if to move forward, but Cobb held up two fingers, barely above the height of his waist, calming his minions. 

“Batman,” Redrobin nodded at Cobb. Batman focused on the suit-clad older man before realising what was directly behind him; the same cryo chambers that Cobb had hundreds of other talons kept in for the purpose of secrecy and stasis. 

“Can the kid hear us?” Slade inquired casually, “How deep is he under?”

Cobb gazed back at the mercenary with a forced coolness, “...Enough”

A moment of silence fell over the room as Cobb watched them watch just beyond him.

 

….

 

Realization hit them all at the same time.

“Fucker!” Jason yelled. Robin yelled something just as loud but much more unintelligible. 

“Stand down!” Batman ordered Red Hood. He ignored the Dark Knight and fired instantly. The room erupted into chaos as the talons descended onto them in a clash of bodies, forcing the rest of their party onto the defense. Batman didn't hesitate and snapped his fist out, catching one man with cropped black hair on the chin. The talon’s goggles cracked from the perfect force and angle, and he stumbled back with a grunt. Batman switched directions with a snap of his feet and rotated to kick out and catch 2 that were sprinting towards his youngest.

One talon fell into a tumble while the other leapt over his armored leg. The movement drew Robin’s attention in time to swiftly turn and intercept them one at a time, taking down the standing talon first. Across the room, closer to the wall, Batman spotted Slade cutting down talons left and right, his dual katana’s no longer strapped to his back. Blood splatter was starting to coat the windows, but Batman had little time to acknowledge that at the moment. Being just as large, even larger in uniform, similar to Batman, it was noticeable when he moved as seamlessly as he did. The copper and black clad mercenary fell into a low lunge, spreading his arms out in opposite directions. 2 Talons fell instantly, and their bellies spilled black against the concrete floor. Batman caught partial views of their intestines as he turned to his next opponent.

Slade's next step forward pushed him up from his lunge, and he jammed the blunt end of his left sword into the window beside him, showering him and the advancing talons with glass and filth. A few flinched and ducked their heads, but those few seconds were all the mercenary needed to sweep forward and cut them down. One talon sacrificed a cut across the chest to get close and grabbed Slade’s throat with a snarl. Slade slammed his head forward into the talon's before kneeing him in the gut and sliding his sword through his middle. While Slade was busy, another talon charged Slade and slammed his body forward, assaulting the back of his head and spinal cord. Slade snarled and pulled away from the talon he’d just killed, but his new attacker was quick and evaded the attempt to grab for him. He leaned to the side and then rushed under Slade’s outstretched arm, imparting a blade to Slade’s upper ribs as he did so. Slade snarled and, despite the blade digging in deeper from the movement, brought his elbow straight down, shattering the talon's collarbone and upper shoulder in one harsh move. He pulled the blade out and slid it into an open sheath at his waist before grabbing the talon’s uniform and hauling him onto the windowsill. He offered a cursory glance and shoved him out before moving on to his next victim.

Behind Batman, Robin and Red Robin had started to work together, playing off each other and their reflective statures. Damian, having more muscle on his frame, acted as the base for Tim to jump off of and leap around. Batman lost track of how many starter gymnastics maneuvers he spotted between them, all learned from their brother. Damian squared his hips and let Red Robin take a running leap off his thigh to swing down with as much momentum as possible, smashing his bostaff into vital points in the heads and upper chests of the talons closing in on them. As soon as Redrobin had launched off his thigh, Robin loaded his gloved hand with blades and batrangs. He curved his fingers and clenched his hands to keep them from falling as he flung his wrist left and right, letting them loose one after the other. They hit their targets perfectly, taking them down or distracting the advancing talons just enough for Red Robin or Batman to intervene for an easy take-down.

Batman ducked and turned into a smooth jab. He intercepted a knife attack and pulled the talon closer, turning with the arm to throw the talon over his shoulder and across the room. He fell with the talon and rolled to avoid the swing to his head he’d seen coming on his left. As he stood, he noticed Redhood sprinting closer to Cobb, but had little time to focus on his son as another attack made its way for his head. He pushed himself to his feet only to have a swift high kick stop him in his tracks. Batman grunted and stumbled back as the talon lowered his leg and prowled forward.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jason weaved through the crowd as best he could, taking out approaching talons with quickness and efficiency in mind before anything else. As long as they were down, he knew Robin or Deathstroke would follow up with a more lethal and long-term attack anyway. Batman's power was putting them down, but Red Robin was having difficulty laying a lethal hit on his opponents. He barely avoided a stray batarang to the ankles and cursed as he was forced to do an embarrassing hop-skip. The moment it took him to look down was all that was needed for his attention to dissolve. A body tackled him, and they went rolling to the right. Jason cursed, catching a glimpse of Cobb’s white suit twisting upside down a few times and becoming further away.

Jason dug his elbows and heels into the floor to slow their tumble. His back met the ground, and Jason turned his head wildly to find Cobb again. He spotted a flash of white and kicked out, feeling his boot meet something. He kicked again until the weight over his legs and feet disappeared.

“I see you don't have a problem with murder after all, Batman,” Cobb called out gleefully, “It's just them staying dead that seems to conflict with your morals”

Jason scrambled towards the white clad man and pushed his legs until they burned with the effort it took to go from 0 to 100. Cobb spotted him instantly and turned to meet him with a downturned expression, “Redho-”

Jason flew past the man and straight for the cryo chamber a few feet behind him. His chest and palms connected with the side of the container to stop his momentum, and the cold metal object shook under the impact. Jason panted down at the stasis chamber, finding a misty glass staring back at him. He wiped at it but that only smeared blood across it, “Dick!” Jason slapped his gloved palm against the glass. No response, “Goddammit!”

“It's no use,” Cobb informed with a pitying tone, “Let my grandson rest. He’s had a hard bout of it recently. Why, being accosted by you boys and then drug around the world by that bruttish mercenary…” Cobb made a tsking sound.

Jason didn't reply, too focused on finding something, anything to wake Dick up or shut off the cryo chamber. He spotted nothing except the hinges to the door and the sleek off-color of the metal that made up the human-sized containment object. No obvious door, no handle. Nothing

“Dick!”

“For someone raised by the greatest detective in the world, you really do have a thick head, don't you, boy?” Cobb sneered, “Give up while you're all still alive. Your pathetic little party of miscreants is far outnumbered anyway”

That snagged Jason’s attention, and he jerked a glance over his shoulder to find Batman on the defense. Just behind him, Redrobin was slowing while trading turns with an injured Robin. To the right of them, Deathstroke was faring somewhat better, but knew it was only because of his healing factor. Jason spotted a body behind Deathstroke start to twitch, the head turned just before the body, and the talon started to try and rise. They just kept coming. Hell, for all they knew, the guards they'd put down on their way in might have joined the fray.

Jason cursed, knowing that they were outnumbered, but his intervention wouldn't turn the tide for them. He turned back to Dick’s frozen body but spotted something bright yellow and packaged with extreme care. It was a saran-wrapped and padded case of long yellow tubes. The package was strapped to the side of the cryo chamber but Jason couldn't see were it was connected to the unit itself, Fuck it, he thought. It had to be some sort of power source keeping the chamber on. He pulled his gun from his side and was a breath away from pulling the trigger when Cobb yelled out, “Stop!”

Jason jolted and spun, aiming at Cobb with an instinctiveness that might've even had Deathstroke proud. The man was staring at Jason with wide eyes and an outstretched arm; his expression was somewhere between outrage and shock. Jason registered the stillness a moment later and realized that talons all around the room had fallen still, taking Cobb’s order to heart. Jason watched as Batman beckoned Robin and Red Robin to his side, and they stepped back, forming a triangle of defense. Batman looked back to where Jason and Cobb were staring each other down.

“What? You don't want me shooting out your fucking power source?” Jason taunted. With his free hand, he retrieved his smaller Glock and pointed it behind himself, all while watching Cobb. Tim gasped, breaking the silence and earning a quick look from Jason, “Hood! That’s electrum, that’s not for Dick-that’s for him! For the talons!”

Lincoln’s retelling of Cobb calling his talons back for a reward of more elctrum and mention of his dwindling supply came back to Jason speedily, “Oh really?” he purred darkly. Cobb’s expression had calmed, but he didn't say anything, “See now, I don't think there’s any reason for me not to shoot the hell out of that, is there?” 

He clicked the safety off both weapons, “You fucked up Dickie so good, he makes this shit now. We don't need this-he doesn't need this”

“Watch yourself, boy. Temper that brashness before it gets you into deeper trouble”

Jason smirked, “You really want to try and order me right now?” he clicked the safety off and on, making sure the metal clasp was clear and distinct. 

“That's why you made this play so early,” Batman stated. Cobb looked at the Dark Knight from the corner of his eye, “Nightwing is the only natural way of creating electrum now that your Court and lab have fallen apart”

Red Robin noticed the way Deathstroke was watching Batman in an unsurprised manner. Cobb’s lips twitched, “You know nothing, Wayne . He is my grandson. My blood. Mine to do with as I see fit”

“Does the Light even know you’re making a play this early?” Slade asked from across the room. He sheathed one sword without wiping it, “If I were to contact Ra’s Al Ghul and inform him of this little adventure. Would he be surprised you used their contacts, resources, and more to ambush us without their permission?”

“I’ll have your tongue, Wilson”

“I imagine even Queen Bee would be rather cross with you, considering there was much more work they wanted done before they tried to discard me and take the kid for their little project,” his voice deepened with malicious glee, “You just forced their hand, William. Congratulations”

Jason whistled, “You are sooooo dead” his grin was so wide his cheeks ached. Cobb glared furiously in a way that gathered h,is brows together, “Alright, boy,” he spat, “Wake him up. See what damage you’ll cause. He’s a weapon, a conclusion to an experiment-this is what he’s made for. Obedience and loyalty. Why do you think your family was always so happy, allowing him to be the peacekeeper and more? He’s made to serve. He’s designed to provide in whatever way he can find a vacuum in his environment to fill"

“Open it, Red Hood!” Robin yelled crossly. Jason didn't need much more than that. With one last warning sent to Cobb, he turned and pocketed his guns before gripping the protruding door hinges. He trusted the others to watch him while distracted. He tucked his fingers in tight against the small round hinges and pulled with all his strength. The metal groaned but didn't budge until jason wacked the butt of his largest pistol against the seamless door. He pulled again, and the metal squeaked and creaked for all of a second before the door flew off and above Jason’s head. He stumbled back from the change in force as frigid white air expelled with it. A painful sounding inhale followed seconds later and Jason found himself staring down t Dick's arched heaving chest in a morbid way. Vague green-tinted recollections of a dark-haired boy dragging himself up from a grave of green liquid scream at him from the very back of his mind.

The barest hints of a two toned chest could be seen before Dick collapsed back into the cryo chamber’s bed, weak with confusion. Jason pushed forward and leaned over the edge to see a monsterous version of Dick. His lower face was caked in blood, and where it wasn't, it was coated in grime and dried sweat. His face held a sickly pallor which was made even more severe by the dark black roots scrawling up his throat and jaw. Jason forced himself to move on from all the hard to ignore details and reached out for Dick. He grabbed fistfuls of his shredded uniform and hauled him up and into a seated position. Dick groaned miserably while Jason tried to ignore the slight reflection of Slade he saw in Dick’s minced uniform. The material was in tatters and looked more like shredded paper thrown over his chest. There were no statements or letters D or S like Robin uniforms had always had but his torso was split down with one side being just as dark as his military combat trowsers and the other side, held just enough enough color to be the darkest copper to ever be printed onto clothing, Actually…that might just be a lot of blood, Jason realized.

Dick was trembling so violently Jason might have joked about him vibrating faster than the Flash. His wide yellow eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were purple, working cohesively with his pale complexion and frigid skin to convey just how close to hypothermia he was. He pulled in sharp breaths and scrambled at Jason and the ledges around him for more stability, his eyes focused on something far off and distant. He blinked and saw a cave around him, a tall Middle Eastern woman watching him scramble for something, anything as he clawed his way further and further from the green pool.

“Come on Dickhead” Jason said under his breath. He re-adjusted his grip over Dick and tried pulling him closer to the edge, hoping his voice would bring Dick clarity like it did on that rooftop years ago.

“Blue”

The word was spoken coldly and not overly loud, but it rang clearly as if said in an empty echo chamber. Dick chocked on his own spit and grasped wildly on Jason’s arm. Jason jerked trying his best to accommodate Dick’s sudden desire to leave his confinements. Dick ended up tumbling over the edge and to the floor in a heap. His knees hit the hard floor, and Robin exclaimed, “Be careful, Hood!”

Jason had half a mind to turn and snap back at the kid but he was unable to tear his eyes off Dick. Something wasn't right. It seemed like there was a desperatness to the way Dick was pulling himself to his knees-like he was aiming to do something-be somwhere. Cobb had said Blue as a trigger word but Dick and Deathstroke had both confirmed that they had de-comntitioned Dick. Jason paused, realizing Dick had acknowledged that he was uanble to really remember what was and wasn't a trigger word or tone, But that was still a freaking long time ago….

“Blue, Grey Son”

“Stop!” Batman snarled. Cobb merely smiled, seemingly pleased with himself. “Fuck” Jason felt his own panic rising over Dick’s obvious reaction to the command. He pushed himself up on shaking hands and knees before his head fell low. He gagged and dry heaved, but there was nothing to be expelled past his chapped lips and bruised esophagus. 

A harsh wet sound escaped Dick and Jason cringed, grateful for his helmet, “Grdmstr...”

“See,” Cobb spoke proudly, “The boy needs his master. See how easily-how willfully he calls out to me after so long apart?”

“What the fuck kind of crack are you on?” Jason was more outraged than anything else. Cobb seemed truly convinced that Dick was acting willfully and Jason had never disagreed more in his life. It was obvious Dick was barely aware of his surroundings. Saliva was gathering on his lips, and his limbs were trembling with a severity that bordered on seizure. 

“Renegade,” Slade’s voice rang out across the long, open room. Everyone turned in surprise. Cobb snarled at the interruption but looked back at Dick just as quickly when he coughed up dark phlem, “Master” he whimpered into the floor.

Slade crossed his arms, entirely unimpressed. “The kid would respond to orders from a squirrel right now”

Cobb swiped his arm through the air, “That proves nothing more than the obvious: My grandson needs to be led. He needs guidance and a firm, strong hand”

“You aren't getting anywhere near him,” Batman snarled.

Cobb slowly crossed his arms, “Grey Son. Come”

Dick made a pathetic attempt to stand, hinered easily by his own shaking and Jason’s hand on his shoulder. Slade’s eye took a sharp downturn, “Stop,” he ordered lowly. Dick, still flustered and illcognizant, stopped moving immediately. Cobb glared at Slade, “Hold your tongue, Wilson”

“Stop it,” Red Robin hissed at Slade, who ignored the shorter boy. Slade’s chin dipped, and his eye pulled back in a predatory grin, “Watch yourself, William. I only ever take orders from paying customers…..you stopped being one long ago”

“Let us leave with Richard or else,” Robin ordered, earning a spiteful look from Cobb. Jason cocked his gun at the bundle of electrum glass tubes one again to reinforce the threat. Cobb snarled lowly at the group surrounding him, “You’re ready to base your safety on the assumption that that is my own source of electrum?” Cobb stated slowly. Batman wasn’t fooled, “The moment you order your talons to attack again is the moment you risk that,” he replied back.

Cobb and Batman watched each other for a long while, “So what’s your intention here? You can’t honestly expect me to roll over and slit my belly for you?”

“100 times over,” Slade purred at the same moment Batman replied, “Cooperation”

Both Slade and Batman eyed each other's periphery, just as stoic as ever. Cobb chuckled, “How utterly amusing. I thought I'd seen it all when you two came traipsing down into Gotham’s sewers together, but here you are again….forcing a partnership that had no business whatsoever”

Cobb looked at Dick’s crumpled form before smirking at Slade, “I wonder how long your partnership will last once these bats learn of your traitorous espionage"

No one replied. Cobb’s smile deepened, “Ooooh, how wonderful. Have you sold out the Light Deathstroke? Did you tell Wayne of the little spies crawling in between his floorboards because my grandson has re-awakened the feeling of guilt in you?”

A horrifically disgusted expression took over in an instant, “One would think you would know better than to give in to such sentimentality after allowing your ex-wife to shoot out your own eye”

Slade’s single eye flashed with the challenge Cobb presented, “Speak of my family again, Cobb” his chin dipped lowly as he watched the white clad man, “Please,” he challenged.

Cobb scoffed and turned away so his back was partially facing the paid killer, “You foolish idiots. This will do nothing” he extended a hand towards Jason and Dick, “You may extened the time in which the Grey Son is separated from the Court, but you cannot prevent it” he stressed, “You are human ! You are weak and bound by the limits of your blood and flesh. This boy will outlive you all, and then what will you do? Hmm? You cannot hope to direct him from the grave”

"Stop calling him that!" Red Robin spat.

“How bound is your head to your neck?” Jason returned.

Cobb sneered disdainfully, “You’re all so pathetic, I am a god in comparison. Putting your faith in this mercenary and the hero community because you have nothing stronger to tie this boy to you-”

“You brainwashed him?!” Red Robin cried in outrage, “He's not genuinely bound to you! You’ve damaged his brain! Tortured him!”

“He is mine!” Cobb roared, “Get that through your thic-UGH!”

Cobb jerked forward in a stumble and clasped his shoulder. The talons frozen around the room twitched in sequence. Jason lowered his gun, one hand still lightly forcing Dick to his knees, “Don't talk to him that way” he said lowly.

“Redhood”, Batman cautioned, not quite disparaging him for shooting Cobb in the shoulder. 

“No!” Jason barked, “Fuck this. Fuck him. I say we fucking decapitate him and get this over with” he waved a gloved hand, “Yea yea yea, you can tape it back on when he’s 6 feet under and in arkham but I'm not listening one more second of this shit” he waved his gun at Cobb.

Batman’s lips thinned over Jason’s violence, but he didn't offer a rebuttal, instead turning back to Cobb. Everyone followed suit and eyed the well-dressed man with a united closeness. Cobb’s shoulders and jaw tightened under the scrutiny, “Alright, if that is your wish…then so be it”

He made a slight gesture with his right hand, and within the same breath, a talon seemed to materialize beside Deathstroke and slide its own sword deep into his sternum. Slade grunted and took a heavy step to stabilize himself. All heads whipped to the white haired killer as he reached around and snagged the talon by the throat. With his free hand, he pulled the sword from his body in a flurry of spurting blood and retracted it up and across the talon’s neck. Before anyone could react, Jason flinched as a bullet whizzed past him. He jerked and ducked, falling over Dick’s kneeling figure. He barely had a second to rationalize and think. His senses screamed at him that the threat was directly in front of him so he grabbed a fistful of the back of Dick’s ragged clothing and threw them all to the side, closer to a rotting pillar and Batman. His gun clattered beside them, and he swore, hoping he’d put the safety on in case of a misfire. Another shot grazed his ankle and Jason hissed, dragging Dick closer in an unsightly messy way. Dick was a limp, dirty ragdoll, and Jason felt the wrong muscles scream and clench as he struggled to pull his brother closer in such an awkward angle and in such a panicked moment. 

“Redhood!” Batman barked, sounding further away. 

“Clear!” Jason yelled out. He hoped he sounded like he was reporting and not reassuring the old man. Dick was mumbling something under his breath but between his own heratbeart filling his ear canals and the confusion taking over the room, Jason didn't have time to try and discern his brother’s ramblings, “Shut up” he hissed down at Dick. His breath hitched as Dick’s glazed eyes looked past him…but green.

“Shit” Jason breathed. His instincts screamed at him to get his heart rate under control, but that was easier said than done. He heard the sounds of flesh being sliced and bodies hitting the floor but he and Dick were still taking cover so all he could do was listen to the grunts and movement. He wasn't clear on whether the talons were attacking again or if the others were putting the talons down. Either way, he knew he had to help but wasn't sure how to store Dick away safely or how to lessen the pit's influence.

He dragged Dick closer in between his legs before his lips curled at the atrocious smell coming off him. He smelt as real as a corpse and Jason much preffered to respond like Dick was mererly in need of a serious shower instead of acknowledging how many times he’d been killed or hurt to get to this state in just a few days. He breathed through his nose and out through his mouth as his vision warbled, flaring a sharp shade of chartreuse. He always used to hate how Bruce and Dick would admonish him for his breathing rythym. Jason, to this day, felt like he got more air through his mouth, but according to them, it was healthier for his heart rate to breathe in through his nose and out through the mouth.

The slight feelings of irritation those memories brought on seemed to double the green and intensify the shades splastered to Dick and himself, “Fuuuuuck,” he breathed. He shoved those emotions aside and closed his eyes. He realized that was a bad idea a moment later, so he chose to focus on a singular spot on the ground.

 

In

 

 

 

Out

 

 

 

In

 

 

 

 

Out

 

Jason continued until the ground was lime colored…..and then a faded mint…..he took a full breath, but his chest protested at the tightness. A stitch formed in his ribs, similar to when he ran after eating. Good enough , he thought to himself. Dick's skin and the ground still held a shade of coloring that Jason knew wasn't normal but a small part of him resisted in forcing down the pit's effects. It always made him feel stronger, and when pitted agaisnt Dick more and more, Jason couldn't deny how much he yearned to prove he could dominate his brother. The kid was always supposed to be smaller and nicer and….dead, he thought flatly as he stared down at Dick's barely rising chest. 

“How many!” he called from behind the pillar. No one answered him, causing Jason to freak and bend over Dick to peer around the pillar.

“He's getting away!” Robin cried. Jason jolted and turned the other way. He snatched his pistol with one hand while he supported his leaned-over torso with the other. He spotted Cobb a second too late. The man held the glowing bundle of glass under one arm and sneered across the room, “-delaying the inevitable” Jason caught the end of a spat remark from the older man.

With his free hand, Cobb activated a palm-sized device, and his body started to waver. The moment Cobb blinked out of existence, Jason realized he had the same one-use teleportation fob that Slade and his men had used back in Europe. It was usually used by the Light, but Jason’s mind was still stuck in fight or flight. He fired a half-second too late and nailed the window where Cobb's head was. Disbelief stabbed through him as he stared at where Cobb had just stood. All around the room, the talons that were standing, and the ones that were trying to overwhelm Slade one by one, dropped like marionettes with their strings cut. Redrobin jerked, his bo-staff at the ready, but the bodies didn't move, and it wasn't a facade.

Batman frowned and crouched down to one of the bodies at his feet. He removed the goggles to spy a young man with platinum blonde shaggy hair. A singular trial of blood leaking from his left nostril, “He's implanted bombs in their brains,” Batman stated.

Slade pulled a knife from his shoulder and tossed it out the window, “About time”

3 sets of eyes turned on Slade angrily, but the man was unconcerned, “Up until now, it took lethal hits to put down a talon temporarily. Now a strong emf blast near the head will put them out” Slade knelt and looked at one like a child who was seeing salt on a snail for the first time, “It’s an ingenious move to ensure your slaves can never talk now, but it does out him, and his methods” Slade stood and rolled his shoulders, “His little pets aren't as mindless and obedient as he claims if he’s worried about them being used against the Court”

“But they'll come back though,” Robin said.

Red Robin placed himself beside Robin, “But this disincentivizes us to use or take them because we'll have to drag around a dead body….bodies,” he glanced around. Slade nodded at Red Robin.  

The attention from Slade spurred Red Robin to frown at the man, “This is bad”

Batman agreed, “It is, but nothing is clear yet” He looked at Deathstroke, “What’s going on, Wilson? Is the Light turning on you, or is Cobb acting out?”

Before Deathstroke could respond, Jason called out, “Hey! A little help! He’s not fucking light!”

Robin was the first to speed over to where Redhood and Dick were hidden behind a large concrete pillar, “Although he is a fucking lightweight…hear that Dickhead? I can still outdrink yo-”

“Todd, stop insulting him. He’s not in a state of mind to defend himself,” Damian snapped.

Redrobin followed closely, “Don't insult him at all,” he snapped at them both.

Chapter 40

Notes:

Hey! here's another ch

Deathstroke watched from afar as Batman stooped down to pick up Dick. Jason pushed himself to his feet and leaned his weight forward with one hand on the pillar, “He feinted, I think,” he said with a touch of breathlessness.

“You okay?” Red Robin asked his brother. His eyes stayed glued to Dick's figure. Jason shot him a look, “I'm. Fine,” he growled. Batman tensed and turned to look at his second-oldest. 

“Red Hood, report,” Batman growled. In his arms, Dick hung limp and battered, his head was thrown back and his hair stood up.

“Code Grinch”, Robin whispered to Red Robin from his side. Red Hood snapped his head to them as well. He shoved off the wall to stand straight and unaided.

“How much green are you seeing, boy?” even Slade was curious as to how much his twitching and labored breathing was due to their battle or his relationship with the pit.

“Stuff it!

“Shut it!”

The boys snapped at Deathstroke simultaneously. Batman slowly turned back to his son, “How severe are the effects right now? Triggers?”

Jason frowned and tugged his helmet off with a huff. He shook his sweaty, matted hair, “I'm fine. Lay off”

Batman continued watching him, and Jason frowned, “I’m fine! It’s just sticking around a little. I'm not a fucking risk right now”

Batman’s lips thinned, “I know you aren’t-”

“Then stop looking at me like I'm a bomb. We gotta take Dickhead somewhere safe. Check his vitals, I dunno, just not this” Jason waved his arms around in a huff. The world tilted from the movement, and Jason planted his boots firmer, quickly leaning back to the pillar in a jerky manner. Batman watched him for a second longer before Deathstroke interjected, “As much as I’d love to watch a failed attempt at coddling grown men. I must insist on some modicum of reasonability. The kid needs to get somewhere warmer, and we need to vacate before Cobb proves my assumptions wrong and returns with the Light or more Talons”

Batman turned to Deathstroke “You think he’s acting out of line from the Light?”

Slade crossed his arms, offering a glimpse at a tear where his costume bent for his underarm, “I think that Ra’s and Luthor have more sense, Cobb. Queen Bee lacks the patience but not the motivation to act against me at the moment, but I doubt she would throw her cards in with Cobb if no one else would”

“If he is acting along then, that’s good…kinda” Tim glanced at Dick, “It means the Light might help take care of him too right? They won’t want him running around with their tech without their permission”

Slade shrugged and stepped forward. He turned and stepped over to where Cobb had held Dick in the cryo chamber, “It would not be smart to assume, but that isn't the worst hunch at the moment”. He unsheathed a short blade and reached around to pry a panel loose from the metal. A thick but short wall of compact circuitry was revealed before Slade shoved his armored fist into the opening and twisted his fingers, yanking out a messy handful of wires and electronic components. As casually as he’d assaulted the solitary machine, the killer straightened and made his way closer to the Bats, “But answers and your never-ending need for unnecessary theories can wait until the kid is safe and I'm not still bleeding out in the open. So I would suggest making things easier on all of us and leave, now ”

____________________________________________________________________________________

They’d had to wait as Slade made his way around the room, insisting on delivering an additional killing blow in a sick, twisted form of duck, duck, goose. Afterward, they retreated to Slade’s downtown safehouse to recuperate. As much as Batman despised allowing Slade to head their way, he permitted the men to direct him where to place Dick when they arrived, setting him on the largest couch available in the simple apartment. Deathstroke set to work wiping any fresh blood and wounds before applying various ointments and wrapping them clinically. Batman and his sons didn't blink while he worked, determined not to be a hindrance while also ensuring Dick was cared for as well as could be. As Slade worked his way down Dick’s body, new and worse wounds were revealed beside his blooming bruises and weeping skin. His neck held a multitude of tears and horizontal lines that appeared to be scabbed over. His ears housed dried blood, as well as his nose. He was missing all his fingernails on his left hand and all his toenails on his right foot. The bottoms of his feet were littered with burns and stabs-nearly shredded along the soles. Tim almost looked away when Slade rotated Dick to his side, revealing his chilies tendon had been cut to the point of dangling as grotesque ligaments from his ankle. Slade was quiet as he worked, merely spraying them with something that seemed to revitalize and moisten the dried and flayed tendon before pressing it back along his heel and ankle and wrapping it all up tightly with gauze and as much binding as he could. Batman muted another call for him as they made sure Dick was situated on the only couch available. Tim glanced at his wrist, not one to miss much, “That was Superman this time”

Batman grunted, “He can wait. My absence will not be the end of the world” His eyes weren't visible beneath his cowl, but anyone would agree that he hadn't blinked in minutes. Tim didn't reply, instead watching as Jason and Damian raided Slade’s kitchenette for coffee and snacks, “Fuck this!” Jason slammed another cupboard closed “It's all military prep bullshit”

Damian crinkled his nose, “The calories and protein are high, but I cannot imagine ever adjusting to this abhorrent flavoring”

Slade watched them with a banal expression, “You don't”

“Then why the hell do you have them?” Jason continued complaining. Slade's expression worsened, “Eat them. Or don't”

Jason grumbled and grabbed 2 brown flat bars. He shoved one at Damian’s chest before stalking around the counter and back towards Dick, “What about me?” Tim complained. Jason flipped him the bird and shoved his flaky bar into Tim's chest. He threw himself down on the coffee table before Dick with a frown. His brother had been bundled into every blanket available, even the Dark Knight’s thermal cape. His face was wet from Ronin wiping him down with a damp wash cloth, but he still smelled and was covered in filthy rags and dried blood as his cleanliness was a second priority, according to Wilson. 

They had placed boiling hot bowls of water around Dick as a means to steam and warm the air after realizing that the safehouse didn't have any heat. Slade looked at them blandly, “This is the first time in 16 years I've used this saehouse. Why would I have anything paid in advance besides the rent?”

Batman placed himself at the head of the counter in the kitchen, “Talk, Wilson. Why are things falling apart? Is Cobb targeting you without the support of the Light, or were you letting us assume the easiest conclusion back there?”

Slade smirked from where he stood across the room, “I assume it’s a combination of things really”

“So Cobb did go after Dick for his blood. He’s actually running low on electrum?” Tim inferred.

Slade nodded, “I assume he had a safe amount for himself but ensuring his little rats were truly well and pumped full of that shit took more of his stock than he liked. It’s not that difficult to assume that Richard, being a natural conductor of the chemical, would be a safer source for him to farm his addiction instead of producing in a laboratory like before”

“Don't tell me” Jason sneered, “He's gonna drain Dickie dry and spin his blood until the electrum separates from everything else”

Robin jabbed him in the side, “You watch too many movies, Todd. Centrifugation is not the go-to for every chemical reaction”

“He's not too far off,” Tim stated. He looked at Slade, “Right?”

Slade nodded, “I assume. I'm not about to claim I spent enough time in a lab to ever fully understand my own enhancement, let alone the kid’s. But that’s beside the point” Slade lowered himself down onto the arm of a spare recliner and leaned forward. He pulled out a small metal tin box and retrieved a short pre-clipped cigar. Ignoring the looks shot his way, Slade lit one up and took a long pull, “I know that Cobb has been keeping tabs on us, just as well as we have on him, for the sole purpose of reclaiming his Grey Son. The need for electrum most likely sped up his own timeline which will only benefit us by turning the Light on him”

“Why has the Light kept him around in the first place?” Robin inquired shortly, “He offers no use without an actual Court of Owls at his command. They're still a threat but almost more of a liability at the same time”

“His presence offered them something,” Batman stated, “Enough for them not to take him out right away”

Slade nodded, “I assume the Light preferred using him as a distraction for me and the kid. Knowing we would be after him in some capacity, he offered them a way to bait us. A carrot and stick situation if you will”

“You mean Savage,” Batman said lowly. Slade didnt respond and the Dark Knight’s chin lowered, “Savage has shown an interest in Dick before. He wanted Cobb alive for some reason, didn't he?”

Slade shrugged coily, “He did . But to be quite frank. The only reason he’s survived this long is because his lab technicians and connections offered something of value to Talia Al Ghul”

“Amanik” Tim gasped. Slade responded with a neutral expression, “You've been doing your homework”

“He worked with Dr. Leslie Thompkins. It’s not hard to find his paper trail in the medical field. The guy was an HR mess”

Slade nodded, “A man of his skill…It's unsurprising to see that he did try his hand at advanced surgery and similar fields. He was not cut out for anything managed by HR though”

“What is Talia doing that would make her need a man like him?” Batman barked. It came out too strong and demanding, earning Slade’s attention, “Ahhhh, something bothering you, Wayne?”

Robin looked at Batman, “Do you think my mother used that strange ambush for something in relation to this?”

“Robin!” Red Roin hissed.

Robin frowned, “Deathstroke is our only source of information at the moment and has full access to Richard. Anything we know, he does or will know”

“Smartest thing I've heard from you in a while, boy” 

“Well?” Damian demanded, “You were there when you lied to Richard and convinced him to leave home. You're aware of my mother’s ambush. Do they have anything to do with each other?”

Slade was silent for a moment. He tapped his cigar over the floor, “I don’t know” he said finally. Damian frowned, “Believe me or not, brat. I have little care for the Shadows or the movement of your lineage”

“But Dr. Amanik has been seen with Talia?” Redrobin pushed.

Slade nodded and tapped his cigar again, “He's been in and out of the Shadow’s base for something that is very poorly hidden, if meant to be so. The Demon’s Head has his daughter overseeing it. That is as far as I've concerned myself with the matter”

“Dick is so fucking screwed” Jason laughed. He was still perched on the coffee take in front of Dick. He was leaned over with a soft arch to his back, holding a protective distance. He watched Dick with a soft ironic expression, “Savage, the Light, that magic bitch, and you” he sent a decrepit look over his shoulder to Slade. The man returned the look. Dick shifted on the couch and earned everyone’s attention. Jason, who was already hovering over his brother leaned in closer, “Hey Dickhead” he said softly. He watched Dick’s face for micro-expressions. After warming him up, the thick black veins seemed to submerge themselves back under Dick’s skin again and hadn't made an appearance so far.

Dick moaned lowly, his chapped lips barely moving, “Come on, beauty sleeps over” Jason egged. His eyes fluttered before Jason caught a glimpse of nearly neon yellow and bloodshot eyes. 

“Don't force him, Todd” Damian admonished. Jason didn't turn around when he snapped, “Shove it, brat”

The noise seemed to bring Dick to the surface a little more and he seemed to have a better time opening his eyes this time around. He groaned miserably, “I know, Dickie” Jason said lowly, “Come on” he urged.

“No wonder the kid likes to lounge around in bed” Slade sighed. Before anyone could stop him he barked out, “Renegade. Attention”

He didn't yell it, but his tone demanded the same level of response. Dick jerked upright and his breathing tripled in speed. His eyes flew open as he wildly looked around, not seeing anything in front of him at first, “M-Master!” he gasped.

“What the fuck Wilson!” Jason snapped.

“Deathstroke! Stop!” Batman barked. Dick flinched from the yelling and his hands snapped up in an X in front of his face. 

“Stop!” Tim hissed at them. The room fell quiet as attention snapped back to Dick. More cognizant, he slowly lowered his arms and glanced around. He swallowed, catching his breath, “Wh-W-” he coughed, hunching over. Jason noticed that a few droplets splattered the blanket in dark colors but didn't say anything past Dick’s wheezing. 

“What happened?” Dick rasped. The way he spoke made Jason wonder if he was asking the room or himself.

Robin spoke calmly, adding a forced layer of warmth to his tone “Richard, wha-”

Dick jumped violently, the effort looking strange and twisty beneath his cocoon of blankets. He snapped his head up to Robin in a motion that looked so tense it might've been painful. Robin froze, “Richard, it is us”

Dick didn't respond.

“Speak”, Deathstroke barked. Dick flinched and clenched his eyes. He stuttered for a response but couldn't seem to produce a coherent answer.

Batman and Red Hood both rounded on the man, “Stop doing that!”

Slade watched them calmly, “He’s in shock and disoriented. The moment we let him rest, he’ll be asleep for too long to give us any real answers or status updates”

“Is this Cobb or that machine?” Tim asked angrily.

Slade put out his cigar and shrugged, “The kid’s suffering from sleep deprivation, torture, a few rounds of mutilation, and who knows how much blood loss from even more deaths. He’s never been pushed this far, save a time or two years ago. He’s surviving off the electrum , not even his own body at this point” Slade looked at Tim pointedly, “ Don't let him dissociate”

“He hasn't been captive for that many days, has he?” Robin asked, appalled.

“You only need more than 24 hours for someone's internal regulation to fall out of sync and become harmful,” Tim reminded him, "Sleep deprivation and sensory harm is a torture tactic for a reason-get's them there quicker"

Slade seemed amused by Timm's casual knowledge of this. Damian rolled his eyes, “Not us. We're better than that”

“Those pods aren't meant to only put talons to sleep” Slade stated, “They are stasis pods”

“What are you implying?” Batman looked at the killer, “He was awake the entire time?”

“Except for when he was killed? Yes, he was frozen and robbed of his control over his muscles and extremities. He was awake and aware of everything” Slade leaned forward, “That's how they break down unruly talons if the maze doesn't do the job well enough. Stay awake long enough and your own mind starts working against you”

Tim's eyes jumped to Jason to find his green eyes already on him. They were both realizing the same thing about Bruce collapsing the Gotham Court of Owls base. Movement drew their attention to where Dick sat looking up at Jason with a distant expression. His eyes reflected something like awe, but not quite. Jason turned and smirked softly down at Dick and said something to him that Tim and the others had to strain to hear.

“Yeah, see Goldenboy,” he reached up to pull on a tuft of bleached hair that lined his forehead. Dick watched Jason’s fingers and his hair, the drag of his attention was lazy and lethargic, “What are you thinkin’ Dick. Where’s your head?”

Dick swallowed, still looking dazed and distant, “M’ cold” 

Jason chuckled lowly, “I bet. What else are you thinkin’?”

Dick blinked slowly and swallowed, “I-” he blinked harder, seemingly coming back to himself. His brow furrowed, and he leveraged Jason’s arms to sit up and look around more, “What are you doing here?”

Jason wasn't sure if he was talking to him or the room of new occupants, “What do you remember, Dick?”

Dick looked more confused by the question, “What are you doing here?” he seemed absolutely baffled and Jason knew they weren't having a cognizant conversation. Dick looked down, noticing the mounds and mounds of blankets on his person, coupled with the dark droplets scattering his lap. 

“Dick” Jason leaned down at the same time Dick looked up, “What do you remember? You were with Wilson for a job, right?”

Dick nodded slowly, “Yea” he responded like Jason’s question was dumb, “We went to Canada and…”

Dick trailed off and his gaze fell low to the coffee table legs. He stared at them, focusing on what was just beyond his reach. A feeling? A memory? Jason watched Dick’s lips twist, “No” he whispered lowly as if disagreeing with himself. His tone was light, “No,” he repeated in a heavier tone, “I-No,” he insisted in a tight, wet voice. Jason knew it was coming back to his brother.

“It's ok, Richard” Robin piped up, “Cobb is no longer here”

Dick's eyes jumped to Jason as if he’d spoken a horrible secret, “He-no. It’s too soon. He can’t be here” Dick uttered agast. 

Jason nodded, “It's cool, take a breath Dickie. You're fine. The fucker ran. You just got a little cold, is all”

Dick’s hand snapped up to his throat and his eyes bulged with the force of his memories returning, the pain coming back in a latent delayed way, “Slade-where’s Slade?”

“Right here, kid” 

Dick’s head snapped to Slade who was perched behind the couch. Dick’s eyes scanned the man's body greedily and Slade chuckled, “I'm fine now”

“I-” he swallowed and licked his chapped lips, “You were shot”, he rasped. 

Slade smirked and dipped his head, “I was. Bled out from a collapsed lung. And you were shot in the head”

Damian and Tim's sounds of exclamation in the back. Slade leaned forward and pinned Dick with a warm look, “You're fine now. Did good kid”

Dick looked uncertain, “I waited” he repeated Slade’s order back like a child, “Cobb-” Saying the man’s name triggered something deeper and he flinched at his own words. His brothers rushed to console him, but the sudden influx of bodies made it worse, “Step back!” Slade barked.

Dick flinched violently and his eyes flashed in sync with his movements, shining even brighter than before. He looked past his brothers with a breathy panicked expression, “Where’s Grandmaster?” he asked the room. He twisted in his seat and looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened and he turned back, “Where’s-”

He stopped short of seeing Slade and the others. He saw Batman in the back, “Dad?”

Jason and his brothers whipped around to see how Bruce would react. None of them had called Bruce dad in years, and even then, it was from a sudden loss of control- a moment of panic and need for the base feelings that parental figures could offer.

Batman stepped forward, “I’m here, Dick,” he said gruffly, “ We’re here”

“No!” Dick stopped them with a sharp reprimanding finger, “You-he” A frustrated expression took over his features when they didn't all automatically understand what he was trying to express, “He was just here !” he exclaimed.

“He’s gone now D-”

“No! He was just here, but he can’t be!” Dick looked at Slade desperately, “I need more time” he begged. Slade didn't reply. Dick grabbed Jason’s gloved hand and held his gaze with an intensity that completely contradicted the glazed look in his eyes a second ago, “Tell Grandmaster I need more time. He-I'm not...” Dick trembled, “I'm not ready and-”

“Dick!” Jason grabbed Dick’s shoulders and shook him, “Cobb is gone. He isn't your fucking master and you're fine now. Tell me your brain is working okay?”

Dick watched Jason warily, “I can’t be here” he whispered, “Where’s Lincoln? Lincoln always knows what to do” Dick scanned the room.

Slade sighed, “Might as well sedate the kid. Not gonna get much out of him right now”

Jason threw up his hands, “His brain’s fucking broken ” he barked, “He’s not a fucking talon, or whatever, but he’s not present or-well he is but-”

“He’s traumatized, Hood,” Tim replied. Batman took a step back and crossed his arms, “This is what it was like when we tried to engage with you…after the Pit”

Jason reared back, “Fuck that. I remember everything. I knew what I was doing” he spat, offended at the notion of being so discombobulated.

Batman shook his head, “You didn't, Jason. Your reactions were entirely polar. You wanted to destroy Gotham and Batman, that's all you said when we met, but Dick’s presence brought out another facet of behavior and we were able to make progress parallel to the pit’s effects lessening”

“It's trauma . He’s confused ,” Tim reiterated sadly, “I think he really just needs to sleep this off and recover”

He looked at Slade, slightly hoping the man would support his theory that Dick was unwell but not permanently so. Slade nodded after a minute, “He’s had a handful of episodes that are similar to this. He wakes up more aware and cognizant each time. Cobb’s presence will have made it worse, but not detrimentally so”

Batman watched Slade with a mutinous, thin look, displeased with the mercenary’s familiarity in handling his son when his JL comm rang again. Tim looked at him knowingly, “He keeps trying you, you can’t ignore him forever or you’ll lose what support you do have in the League”

“Trouble in paradise?” Slade purred.

“Shut your mouth,” Damian snapped on their behalf. Batman glared at Damian, unimpressed with his short temper.

“I need to speak with Superman, watch your brother” Batman turned and strode from the apartment, most likely taking residence on the rooftop for privacy and a better vantage point. Tim watched him go, feeling slightly off-kilter. Slade didn't stay to watch Bruce depart before he was standing. He strode back down the hallway, and a light flicked on. Tim took a few steps in that direction, assuming it was a bathroom. Slade returned with a hand-sized medical kit and an equally sized black mesh container. He disregarded Tim and Damian and made his way to Jason and Dick’s side. He lowered himself down onto the coffee table beside Jason, ignoring the younger man’s scoff and the looks sent his way.

Dick looked at him in astonishment, “Master…”

Slade smirked, acknowledging Dick, “Kid” he placed the medical kit and the black container on each knee, “What's the last thing you remember?”

Dick watched Slade from his cocoon of blankets, “Where’s Lincol-”

Slade snapped his fingers once, startling Dick, “Renegade, focus ” he ordered in a large tone, “What's the last thing you remember?” Dick watched Slade as he thought about his answer. “Do you remember the cabin?” Slade helped.

Dick’s eyes widened noticeably and his gaze flicked down to Slade’s torso, “Oh my god…” he breathed.

Slade smirked, “I guess you do now, huh?”

Dick didn’t reply, seemingly confused and horrified at once. Slade withdrew a syringe from the red plastic box before using his spare fingers to extract 2 different glass bottles of liquid from the other. One was grey and one was clear, but both had clearly been used already. They were medicinal bottles with glass bodies but soft lids for syringe dispensing. Slade tilted one bottle down and pressed the syringe to it, withdrawing half the contents, “Kid,” he said calmly, “I want you to work through your calming exercises. Remember those?”

In response, Dick slowly brought up a hand, struggling when the mounds of blanket made it harder. Wordlessly, Jason tugged a few layers down and Dick slowly started to massage his palm and perlicue with his opposite thumb. Slade nodded approvingly, “Good, now watch your breathing and count backward by odd integers”

“What the fu-”

“Shhhh!” Tim shushed Jason sharply.

The brothers watched as Slade filled the syringe with the remaining contents from the other medicinal bottle before holding it up to eye level. He flicked it once before he brought it down to Dick’s inner arm. He smoothed the pad of his thumb over the tender skin before sliding it in and pressing down in one fluid motion. Dick jerked and twitched, his concentration broken as he realized what was happening. He looked down in outrage before glaring back up at Slade. Slade didn't offer him any acknowledgment as he withdrew the syringe and placed it behind himself on the table. He closed the two containers up and turned on his side to place them behind himself, “Catch him,” he said simply. Jason cursed as Dick’s upper body started to droop. He leaned forward and caught Dick before he could fall from the couch in his hobbled state.

Tim and Damian quickly found themselves at the back of the couch as well, “What did you do to him?” Damian demanded.

“He's unconscious you fucking idiot” Jason snapped. Damian bristled not unlike a cat, "I mean, what was that liquid!"

Tim ignored both his brothers, “What was that?” he addressed Slade directly.

Slade gave Tim a quick glance as he stood to place both containers away, “Buffalo tranquilizer and amylase”

Jason looked at Slade in bafflement, “Why the fuck did you tranq him with animal shit? And what’s analeeese?”

“Buffalo tranquilizer is one of the few medicines premade with the exact dosage required to put him under. It’s far more convenient to stock up on it from exotic animal specialists than drafting it in a lab every time I have to sedate him. And amylase,” Slade over-enunciated to Jason’s annoyance, “Is a digestive enzyme protein that helps speed up the process and recovery. My own enhancement gives me an elevated count and effectiveness”

Tim gasped in a way that curled his lips and nose in disgust. Jason and Damian looked between Slade and Tim, their confusion easily apparent.

Slade gave them each a blunt look, “My spit” 

____________________________________________________________________________________

Batman returned shortly after with a look of disgruntlement plastered across his lower face. His sons were on high alert immediately. Jason frowned and crossed his arms, refusing to stand and meet Batman like Damian and Tim did, “What happened?" Damian demanded within seconds of the door closing. Bruce didn't answer, instead, the white lenses of his cowl found Dick. He looked to Jason, who sat with his arms crossed, and Slade, who sat back in an old leather recliner, typing away on a laptop that wasn't out before. Jason didn’t provide an answer for Batman and instead watched him back with the same level of quiet intensity, determined not to become another sidekick and lapdog the moment Dick was in trouble and Batman wanted to take the reins again. He’d already gone back on numerous promises not to talk to and interact with the Dark Knight.

Tim spoke first, “Deathstroke sedated him with a special tranquilizer so he can recover quicker”

Bruce looked to his son, wary of what was used. Tim nodded, conveying his own approval of what he’d seen administered. Batman’s shoulders lowered ever so slightly in response, “Gotham is under attack,” he said gruffly. That earned everyone’s attention, and Bruce noted that even Wilson’s single eye dragged upward to hear what the news was. The man was unmasked and unarmed, his dual twin blades sitting neatly on the counter, and the shape of his torso suggesting he wasn't hiding any firearms on his body still. Jason’s chest rose and fell quickly with a silent ironic laugh, but his expression didn’t lift from stoic.

“What? Who dares attack Gotham?” Damian balked. 

“Why hasn’t Babs contacted us?” Tim asked in concern. Batman frowned and looked to Wilson, displeased with how familiar and bare their secrets were to Deathstroke. The man knew nearly every aspect of the secrets holding the Justice League and hero community together, but seemingly hadn’t sold them out for Dick’s benefit and favor. With eyes still on Deathstroke, Bruce spoke, “She has. One attempt to contact us yesterday was from her, and the rest have been from Green Arrow and Superman on her behalf”

“Shit” Tim exhaled, “What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

Batman nodded, “As far as I can tell, no one is hurt and out of action, but GPD is involved and working on and off with the JL to get things under control. Joker broke out of Arkham and subsequently triggered the release of the Riddler, Ivy, Freeze, and Scarecrow”

“They cannot be attempting to reform the Injustice League ?” Damian balked in offense, “They will fail”

“With Young Justice handling field missions, the Flash on research for the chips, and Man Hunter monitoring Wonder Woman’s status in space, the only responders we have are Superman, Canary, Green Arrow, and Batgirl. They’ve been rotating and trying to meet with the temporary GPD commissioner every other day, but their own cities need their attention, and Black Canary has her hands full with managing the Young Justice teams' separate missions and trainings”

"There are other-"

Batman cut off Tim, "None that would understand the reasonings behind my delayed absence"

“4 high-risk villains for 1 hero at a time can’t be easy,” Tim bit his lip. He looked at Dick but Jason gave him a weird look, “What?” he snarked.

Tim frowned, “I'm not looking at you”

Jason doubled down on his look, “And? Why are you looking at Dickhead like that too? It's not like we gotta figure out how to airlift across the Canadian border”

Tim paused, a retort fresh on his lips. His brow broke in hesitation, and he looked more closely at their sleeping brother. Slade’s typing had stopped as he sat back to watch another family debacle, “I guess I just assumed,” he admitted.

“But we aren’t going to just leave , are we?” Damian looked between his father and Tim.

“You saw that weird hand thing” Jason brushed him off, “The pervert knows how to handle Dick like this, and I swear to God,” he said heavily, “If I have to remind us all again what Goldenboy will say when he wakes up and is more…himself” Jason made a face, “Then I’m gonna shoot someone” Jason leaned back with little patience smearing his lips, “We’ve been through this already. Nothing. Changes”

Batman checked something on his wrist, avoiding the heavy stares of his children, “Red Hood is correct. Gotham needs us, and this was always intended as a rescue mission, not a retrieval. Red Hood has the option to stay if he likes, but we 3 are needed back in Gotham immediately, Batgirl has been on her own for too long, and we cannot risk her against the Joker. Agent A can only be of so much help in the field”

Tim frowned, a strange detachment overcoming his eyes and lips. Beside him, Damian looked at either person, desperate for an in to object. No one would meet his gaze with a willfulness to support bringing Dick and fighting Deathstroke over it. “We can't!” he forced out, his tone bordering on whiny, “Look at this place! The walls are rotting, there is no hot water, and all he has is Deathstroke!”

Slade huffed a quiet single breath from where he was still positioned in front of his laptop, “If it's any consolation, this is not where I’m keeping the kid to recuperate. I already have a team on the way to retrieve us. Although” Slade looked up, “I would have hoped that common sense would beg you to realize that with my funding and resources, I have access to nearly any kind of establishment for the kid to rest and heal”

Damian crossed his arms petulantly, “Then why are we in this dump!?”

Slade’s amused expression folded as Damian refused to see sense, “If you're going to increase the tone in your voice, you should also try increasing the amount of logic you use. This is a safe house, brat. Its sole purpose is to be known to only the people hiding in it. Now that its location is leaked, I’ll have to discard it. You should be glad enough I have the patience to humor your soft sensibilities with an explanation at all”

“ We wouldn't put Dick’s safety out in the open” Tim bit out, "We're too busy to send capes after your dumb safehouses" Slade looked past Tim to his father as he replied, “You're not the concern, boy”

Batman didn’t offer any outward emotion, but he said, “Don't flatter yourself, Wilson. I know of more of your safehouses than you realize”

Slade smirked and leaned forward in his leather seat, “You know of 16….well 17 now, but I think we both know you won't truly count this one”

Batman stared Slade down with a vengeance that had his white lenses slitted to needle points. He turned to his sons, “There’s a zeta transport close by. Check your comms for the location ping. Rendezvous in Gotham immediately” he gave Wilson one last withering look, “I'll be sure to follow up on the status of my son. I don't expect there to be any issue” he warned.

Batman strode out the door, sans cape, and didn't look back. Jason smirked, noting that Bruce had left his cape on Dick for additional warmth. He felt Damian and Tim staring him down expectantly and looked over, “Jeesh! I'm coming, I'm coming” Dick, who had been carelessly slumped across Jason’s chest and shoulder, shifted under Jason as he moved. He maneuvered his brother in a way that was both heedful and careless at once. He laid Dick back against the couch, leaving his waist down swaddled. The bowls of hot water around them had cooled at this point. He pushed himself to his feet with a groan of a man 20 years his senior and cast a glance back down at Dick. He then looked at Slade with a sneer, but the man was already watching him. His laptop was closed and balanced on one knee, and his chin was supported by his fist.

Jason allowed himself to linger for a second too long and felt the air shift around them slightly. Without Batman or Bruce in the room, it felt more authentic. The situation and gravity of their nearly lifeless brother, the ambiguous killer who was both a protector and an enemy, and the completely unknown situation of the Light truly hit him in a way that had him hesitating to leave. He was all too aware of Dick's new durability thanks to the Court but his obvious state seemed to beg Jason to deny it and believe he was just as mortal as before. He was glad for his domino mask as he turned to Slade, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. 

“Is he still drugging himself?”

Slade looked back at him with an unreadable expression, but the way the man didn't answer right away told Jason he’d caught the killer off guard, maybe with his question or the honesty behind his tone. Slade reached forward and placed his laptop on the coffee table before crossing one ankle over his other knee and leaning back. Despite physically looking up at Jason and his brothers, Jason felt like he was the one looking up at Slade, asking for answers, “Yes”

The white-haired man’s tone authenticated his own disappointment with Dick's decision, “But I’m sure you remember what it looks like when he doesn't…. temper himself” Slade put it delicately, sounding ever the businessman.

Jason resisted the urge to scoff, “That was a fucking tantrum. Besides, I doubt the idiot’s ever tried to actually search for a solution that didn't involve martyring himself. The fucker's got a savior complex”

Slade smirked in agreement with Jason, “Your brother has certainly been trying his damnedest to become more durable. He thought that running away and training with me was the solution until he realized that the Court's a threat to you that would always exist. So that seems to have taken priority over learning self-control” Slade shrugged slyly, “But who am I to deny my student”

“Uh, I dunno. A decent person?” Damian sneered, “You’re hurting him by giving in to every harmful whim that crosses his mind!”

Slade sent him a warning look, “Think of it what you will. The kid is investigating free will and the consequences of those decisions for the first time in his life. He gets to see what it's like to put himself first in a way that he’s never been able to before. I’m hardly in the mood to deny him that”

“That is such BS and you know it,” Jason retorted darkly, “You kept your kids out of this line of work pretty well. Rose nearly cut out his own eye for you, and she still isn't a mercenary. Hell, Joey’s an honorary Titan!”

Slade nodded, unbothered by the Red Hood’s anger, “As dearly as I love my children, they and I both know they don't have what it takes to survive my field of work. It’s why I never wanted my eldest to inspire an interest in it either. Richard is different. It’s readily apparent. And your insistence on rejecting this truth only highlights your immaturity and reinforces my belief that you hold him back”

“But,” Slade acknowledged, “The evolution project is a difficult thing to come to terms with. My own enhancement wasn't nearly this invasive, and I had years to adjust and grow into my new standing. Richard has had only a handful of those years, and he’s been struggling to stay above the waves” He leaned over and pulled out his small silver compact case again, retrieving another preclipped cigar, “There was a study done a few times over the last few decades in Western society. It confirmed each time that women reach mental maturity around 25. After that, their brains do not generally grow or expand, and the amount of information they can intake does not change too much”

“We know this,” Tim snapped, “It's why people always want kids to learn languages as kids”

Slade nodded, unconcerned with being interrupted, “The study of women, in particular, is vastly different from men, not only because they reach mental and physical maturity at different stages, but the amount and type of hormones their body naturally produces and excretes differ vastly from their male counterparts. Women produce much more cortisol and adrenaline, which affects their day-to-day fight-or-flight responses to situations. They also produce the most testosterone and estrogen, comparatively, to men because of the amounts of which can triple during their monthly cycles”

“Are you seriously giving us a fucking sex ed ted talk right now” Jason rolled his shoulders.

“My point ,” Slade said slowly, dangerously, “Is that at the end of this most recent study, with over a thousand women, it was verified that many women confirmed feeling changes in themselves over the slightest nuances. Many women reported smelling their husband’s body odor differently after and before birth control, even coming to dislike their significant other because of this change. One would think that women in all their day-to-day fluctuations of hormones and emotional fluidity would be very accustomed to just another change in their hormone levels. But no,” He smirked to himself like it was politely amusing, “My ex-wife made sure I was well-versed in many female struggles and tribulations when she began barring our children….As I can see, the correlation is not getting through to you” Slade stood up from the seat and made his height known to the room’s occupants, “Your brother is struggling through something that can only be ascribed to what women experience daily. Half of the population regularly deals with their feelings countering their thoughts. Society teaches them logic and reason, and their bodies educate them on feelings and instinct, and very commonly, these 2 are at war with each other, always trying to prove which is the better method for decision-making. Your brother is battling with this at the moment. He may very well be for a long time. His biology is different, his skills are different, nearly everything about him is not your brother…at least not your original brother. The electrum is a part of him now, but it has irrevocably changed him. Altered him. His thinking process is different, and his decision-making is different. He worries about how you will see him when you realize that his prioritizing has changed as well. I know he forces you to the top of his mind when he becomes hyperconfused on something. He uses you and your morals to ground himself and make himself feel human…feel good” Slade’s lip curled, “It's utterly pathetic, and I cannot wait until this stage of his passes. This insipid insistance”

“The fact that he feels he can’t trust himself just proves how bad you are for him. My brother should not be in your presence. You've done nothing for him!” Damian spat.

Deathstroke slowly dropped his crossed arms and considered Damian with a slight pensiveness. One that pervaded them all and put the brothers on edge immediately, “Your brother doesn't trust himself because he knows that truth. He knows that he isn't the boy you were raised with, the one who wanted to sacrifice his needs and wants for your frivolous ones. He knows it", Slade whispered menacingly, “And on the days when he admits it to himself... and feels the relief of thinking and feeling completely unfettered, well” Slade pulled back slightly, almost stealing the air from the room as the brothers watch the killer with bated breath, “Those are the days when I really see Richard smile”

“It’s weird that you do that”, Tim cut in too quickly to be casual.

Slade tilted his head down and slightly to the side, “What? That I do not sugar coat your own lackings to you?”

Tim glared back, “No. As much as you hate Batman, he’s blunt enough. You keep calling Dick our brother. Like..you acknowledge our relationship, but we all know you don’t like it-”

“I don’t”, Slade snarled, “I despise how successful you have been in dragging that boy to his knees for you. He could have been so great by now. He could have accomplished so much more if it were not for the guilt weighing down his shoulders”

“So why the heck do you like to acknowledge us as family if you hate it so much?” Tim persisted, “I know Dick knows you hate us too. You think you can make Dick like you more or something if you use nicer words when you call us baggage ?”

Slade smirked darkly, “You are entirely off-point, boy. I’m merely playing the long game” He stepped in closer, noting how Red Hood stepped closer to match him, “I don’t have to wait for Richard to realize you are a needless drain on his existence” his voice deepened sinisterly, “I merely have to wait out your mortality”

Chapter 41

Notes:

Hey there! Here's another ch

Sharp, heated pain forced its way through his chest and down to his extremities with a quickness and ferocity that couldn't be described adequately, “Ahhhhh!”

The yell tore itself from his throat without consent, and he threw himself up, desperate to escape his punishment. He knew he’d done wrong, had failed somehow, but he so desperately feared being punished again. The pain seemed to be never-ending, and the white lights and numbing brightness followed him everywhere. Everywhere.

A hand grasped his shoulder and Dick jerked on instinct, regardless of what Grandmaster would do to him for it. He pulled away and tried to twist, only to realize his hands were actually unbound. Before he could act on his unexpected freedom, his world lit up and blinded him. Dick flinched and blinked rapidly to dispel the hazy spots and floaters in his vision. He looked up past squinted vision to see a blurred figure towering over him, “-kid”

Confusion ran rampant and Dick scrubbed at his face and eyes to make sense of what was going on. 

“Little Bird” 

Dick froze and slowly looked up. The pain that had been his entire world, his sole existence, just seconds ago, was nowhere to be found, leaving a strange numbing and tingling sensation. His mouth was dry, and he had a killer headache…but he was fine. Dick looked up at Slade, desperate for answers. Slade looked down at him from where he stood at his bedside, “Little Bird, can you hear me?”

Dick nodded slowly and noticed his simple white shirt and jeans. Slade wasn’t even dressed in a belt and his black eye path was missing, bearing his scarred eye socket to Dick. The undressed state of the older man shocked Dick enough for recollection to come back in pieces. He’d had a nightmare…this wasn’t his first time waking up in the last few weeks. Slade had given up on his own rest and returned to his room with his laptop before pressing Dick back down to his bed and taking a seat at his bedside. The last thing Dick remembered was how hard it had been to keep his eyes open against the sharp clicks of Slade’s keyboard in the blackness of his room. And then now... His cheeks burned with heat, and he dropped his gaze, unsure of why he’d been so convinced he’d been mid-punishment at the Court. Well, he knew why, but verbalizing an explanation made him feel pathetic.

Exhaustion, which had nothing to do with being woken up, hit Dick and he slumped. He intended for the bed to catch his limp body, but found Slade’s arms catching his own shoulders before he could lie back fully. He frowned and grumbled at the slight intervention. Slade’s lip ticked up, “In a minute, kid. Need to make sure you’re with me”

Dick nodded and closed his eyes but didn't respond. Slade gave him a squeeze firm enough to wake him up slightly. Groggy, he glared up at the white-haired man, “Name your personal combat team for me”

“Wldca-”

“Clearly,” Slade narrowed his eye .

Dick sighed dramatically, “Wildcat, Eerie, and Falcon”

“Tell me something that happened yesterday”

“Will got mad at me for making ‘your mom’ jokes”

“Good,” Slade lessened his grip and let him lower back to his pillow, “How are you feeling?”

“I'm not talking about it” Dick rebutted tiredly.

“I'm not asking you to,” Slade replied patiently, “What are your symptoms?” he repeated, “Headache? Sore throat? Skin irritation?”

Dick hated his past self so much for revealing too much. Slade knew what to ask and look for now, and it made his medical check-ups and concussion tests all the more invasive. Despite the bone-deep lethargy clinging to him, Dick was more awake to realize this was just another day of realizing how weak he was. “Mmmeadache” Dick answered groggily. He knew Slade disliked nonchalant answers and in-concise responses, but, at the moment, he despised nothing more than being told what to do. He swallowed, knowing Slade would catch the way he winced and strained to swallow with a sore, tender throat.

It had been like this for weeks now: Dick acting like a 5-year-old child from a bombed refugee camp while Slade humored his desires to act like nothing was amiss. Wintergreen had stepped in and forced an awkward conversation early on when Dick’s midnight yelling had caused him to lose sleep.

__

“If I'm suffering from sleeplessness then I know you aren’t getting any” the older man admonished Dick.

Dick shrugged, “I'm fine Will. Sorry for waking you”

Wintergreen had only become more frustrated the more Dick responded to him with apologies and excuses. Wintergreen narrowed his eyes, “Don’t give me that, Richard. I've known Slade for far too long to know how poorly you must be doing” 

__

He blinked in surprise when Slade shoved a water bottle into his hand, “That needs to be gone when I get back,” he said simply. He turned on his heel and strode from the door. Dick watched the door in a daze. He glanced back down at the water bottle in his hand and back up. Feeling like he was in a stupor, Dick looked around his room. He knew every inch of it by heart, and yet the bare walls and clean dresser top seemed to catch his attention. Remembering the split second of pain and fear was so genuine that there was no way it could have been fabricated made Dick wonder if Grandmas-Cobb really had been made up. He was so certain he had been in the midst of punishment but the more Dick thought about it, the more he realized he had no recollection of what hurt..or why…or what he’d even done. He imagined himself on his knees in front of a familiar stained tub of water, but when that mental image came up as 3rd person, of himself, watching himself and not seeing through his own eyes, he decided he was fabricating memories after all.

Almost as if he were truly back at the Court and isolated from anyone who could relate to him, a sudden pang of yearning made itself known. I miss Lincoln , he thought to himself. He appreciated the young man’s company and subtle efforts to make his capture that much more bearable that Dick found himself eager not to remember that Lincoln had kidnapped his brothers, tortured them, and even helped Cobb maintain control over Dick’s mind. He wanted to remember Lincoln as best he could, and sometimes it helped to place Lincoln’s fault on Cobb’s shoulders as well.

“Look at what good that did me” Dick muttered to himself. He’d placed so much of the fault and obligation to be at fault on his Grandfather’s shoulders, but the moment he’d come face to face with the man. He’d crumbled like a pathetic kid. He’d felt 17 all over again, where he had no control, no autonomy. No one would listen to him or consider him, and he had been dragged from location to location and killed over and over again. A hot wetness began to build behind his eyes and nose over the realization that Grandmaster-that Cobb hadn't even killed him out of anger…or hate. No Cobb had murdered him over and over again in an attempt to put Dick to use again. He wanted his tool back. He didn't want revenge, he didn't want his Grandson. He wanted his weapon-his slave. It was one thing to be hated, to be disliked, but it was another feeling altogether to be dehumanized. It was numbing in a way that still felt painful-like when you tried walking with pins and needles in one foot.

Just remembering those short sharp orders made Dick quiver. His skin didn't feel like his own when the mere memory of a word made him want to prostrate himself on the floor and hope for the best. He felt like one big ball of negative energy. He wasn't too angry, he just wasn’t able to push his feelings away and welcome that familiar tang of desolation, where numbness and a lack of emotions were all he could focus on. No, he just felt bad….a little angry, a little defeated….and a lot of sadness. He knew that Cobb had ambushed him on his terms and struck at Dick in a way that was bound to break him down, but Dick wouldn't deny the feelings of defeat that coated his skin and layered his tongue like bitter syrup. It was beyond frustrating to acknowledge how, once again, everything had happened on Cobb's dime, under his dictation.

What had he been doing? What had he been working for if not to be able to handle exactly what just happened? All that deconditioning work with Slade and pushing his brothers and dad away for nothing. He was just as weak as he’d been at 17 and Dick despised himself for it. He loathed the fact that he couldn't muster a true anger to light any action or motivation. He’d been a large ball of pathetic self-pity and shame ever since waking up. He slept and ate and then woke, terrified and panicked. And then the cycle would start all over again. Despite the blatant acknowledgment of this, the mere notion of getting out of bed and outside of his comfort zone made him resist the idea. He took a sip of the water bottle and half-heartedly put the cap back on before falling back into his pillows. Wintergreen had bought him new bedding and the pillow contained real feathers, the fancy shit.

He hoped he rolled over in his sleep and suffocated.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Slade stepped into the kitchen and made his way to the fridge. He’d been slowly meeting the kid’s caloric intake with quick and easy finger foods like crackers, fruit, and junk food. The kid was teetering on the edge, and it was obvious which way he was gonna fall. Just not when. Wintergreen looked up from where he sat at the counter, reading. They made eye contact, but Slade was in no mood to be interrogated by his friend. Slade noted that Wintergreen already had teriyaki chicken and vegetables, prepared and waiting for Dick.

“Slade” Wintergreen sighed, “Not discussing this will not make it any easier”

Slade frowned but kept his attention on the eggs in front of him, “As surprising as this may sound Will,” he drawled, “There is nothing to discuss. You are aware of what happened, you are kept up to date on what is happening. And I am not omniscient, so I am unable to tell you what will happen”

Wintergreen frowned and closed his book, “Don't give me that tone, Wilson”

Slade slowly looked back to Wil, “What exactly would you prefer I do, Wil? Hmm? Cuddle with the kid?”

Slade closed the fridge and prowled over to where the older man was sitting at the counter, “Do I put the kid in therapy? Do I release him into the wild and hope a nice civilian family picks him up ? Do I let Wayne reclaim him and count down the days until he kills himself from the guilt?”

Slade leaned forward, “Maybe I should give him a hug ?”

Wintergreen watched the killer, knowing that despite his trusted place in Slade’s life, he was not always safe to speak his mind unfettered. No one truly was without repercussion. Dick knew that and had suffered the consequences of pushing the boundaries more than once. Will did as well, years ago, when they were both merely mortal men striving to survive the US military, “My point with that suggestion was when he was barely an adult,” Wintergreen said slowly, “And that was to counter the fact that nearly everyone he’d had contact with was under the facade that he was a tool”

Slade crossed his arms and watched his old friend stoically, “This is why the boy has such a hard time adjusting to reality and accepting hard truths. You and those boys feed him such confident half-truths like it's a free petting zoo”

Wintergreen reared back, “I beg your par-”

“That boy is a tool,” Slade hissed. His tone emanated the color black, “That boy is the greatest weapon I’ve seen in my many years on this earth, and I intend to make him the greatest that will ever come. That’s why he’s such a waste in Wayne’s hands. That man-child is a wealthy traumatized boy playing dress up . He has no idea how to cultivate Richard into a man who finds enjoyment in living, despite any harsh realities about himself. He doesn't need coddling! He needs to learn how to control himself”

Wintergreen frowned, “You are hardly in a position to claim Wayne is a caregiver, Wilson. And we both know that man cares for all his boys dearly. Richard had a well-cared-for childhood considering his circumstances”

Slade scoffed and threw his head back, “That man has done nothing but ruin 4 childhoods; 5 if you count that girl Richard grew up with. All 4 of those boys are exceptional. They could have been great without the Bat’s shadow”

Wintergreen couldn't resist his own sound of disgruntlement, "Every single one of those boys was headed for ruin when Wayne found them"

Wintergreen paused and steepled his fingers, “Be that as it may though, that is not the hand that was dealt them. You cannot claim they were abused, and that he does not deserve them. Look at the lengths Wayne has gone to for those kids”

Slade stepped away from the counter and reached for a beer, “Not in the traditional sense no”

Wintergreen stood back in a movement so abrupt his chair was shoved backward, “Watch yourself, Slade, you’re sounding very hypocritical at the moment. I know you have never been completely transparent with me. I know more happened at the cabin, when the Court of Owls hired you, when-”

“Your point is made,” Slade replied lowly.

Wintergreen glared, “Is it?” he insisted, “Because that boy was just murdered at least a handful of times, not to mention the torture and trauma that he is re-experiencing all over again from a man who should have coveted him as family. And you,” he jabbed a finger in Slade's chest, "Are doing little else than treating him like he has the flu”

The kitchen fell into silence as they watched each other, “I'm waiting,” Slade stated.  Wintergreen watched Slade turn back to the fridge and start to retrieve cheese and almonds. He turned to the cupboard beside the fridge and pulled out a sleeve of crackers.

“For what?” Wintergreen demanded in a snappish way.

Slade placed the items on the counter and eyed Wintergreen in a way that conveyed how minimal his dwindling patience already was, “The kid is holding it together rather well considering everything you just listed,” he replied nonchalantly.

Wintergreen nodded cautiously, “I suppose so,” he agreed begrudgingly, “Which is all the more reason to be more attentive, Slade. Richard is in denial, or putting up a facade for us-”

“Exactly”

Wintergreen paused, “What are you getting at Wilson?” he asked tiredly. Slade's mind games demanded energy beyond Wintergreen’s capacity at times.

“The kid is barely holding on, and it's obvious. He hasn’t gotten a full night’s rest in at least 3 weeks and forces conversation when he can barely maintain it. He’s in denial about how poorly he is doing, and it's only a matter of time before he falls apart. I'm waiting for him to do it when he’s ready”

He moved to walk past the counter when he paused, his single eye holding a softer look, “You know what it’s like to be forced in front of a therapist because no one believes you’re okay”

Wintergreen nodded, his gaze drifting down to his book as memories of life in the military came trickling back.

“I can’t afford the kid to be out of commission because he did more harm to himself in addition to what he just went through. But,” Slade acknowledged, “The least I can do for him is to let him do this on his terms….on his time. Forcing him to acknowledge everything would just be another injustice”

Slade shrugged, “It won’t be long. I’ve heard him talk to himself when he thinks I’m gone. His narrative is right where it should be”

Wintergreen looked up to his friend and then down the hallway where their rooms were located , “Alright,” he allowed, “If you think this method is best for his healing…”

Slade smirked at the way the older man was allowing him to continue treating his apprentice how he saw fit, “Oh, and by the way” he looked down at the older man, “If you ever see fit to drop my firewalls to the bats again, we may have to reestablish a few things”

Wintergreen froze under Slade’s deadly look and matched it with one of his own, “I don't regret a thing. You needed the backup, and the connection was already preset after you taunted that poor boy. They deserve to stay informed about Richard’s welfare, and their presence did nothing but help”

Slade was silent as he watched Wintergreen, “For someone who is more aware of my reputation, and the history behind it, more than anyone else, you really do not act like it”

Wintergreen narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips before nodding his acquiescence. Slade nodded, but his expression did not improve.

“I have a meeting to attend in my office. Watch the kid, have him finish his water”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Deathstroke,” Vandal Savage was the first to speak. Slade didn't respond at first, taking note of the attendees. He was unsurprised that word reached the Light before he had to demand an audience. He’d taken the virtual meeting in his office, leaving only the surrounding computer lights and monitoring equipment to illuminate his armored figure.

“We have been made aware of what has taken place, but moreso how William acted without our jurisdiction and know-how. It is a matter we have endeavored not to take lightly”

Ra’s Al Ghul leaned forward in his seat. He was taking th meeting separately from where Vandal Savage and Lex Luthor were. Queen Bee and Black Manta were not in attendance, but Slade cared little about the Light’s superficial members. The Demon's Head could see how on edge and suspicious Slade was, and how much trouble that spelled for the Light.

“Tell us what happened, Deathstroke”, Ra’s spoke politely, telling Slade all he needed to know. They were trying to work with him, trying to keep him in their good graces. Slade’s assumption that Cobb had acted without anyone knowing was looking more and more concrete. If the Light had supported him, they would not have been so accommodating, and instead much more prepared to deal with an enraged mercenary. Slade smirked under his mask, intrigued by the complications Cobb had pushed on the Light now that he had forced their hand.

Slade suspected he had at least another few months to a year before the Light turned on him and took Dick from him, maybe a few assassination attempts and meddling intermixed to throw them off or sew in doubt, but the Light had not planned to act yet and that made Cobb the unified enemy at the moment, “My student is an extension of myself” Slade began, “And lately, he seems to be very much under attack from those around us”

He leaned back, “I was assured the Light would not act against me or my beneficiaries while contracted under Savage. I was informed that the Court of Owls had been handled and was being internationally dismantled, never mind the fact that my apprentice has preemptively taken out the key players for you”

“We are well aware of how Queen Bee and Klarion acted, similar to Cobb, without permission-”

“That” Slade’s words were dark and clipped, “Does not take away the fact that she, as a member of the Light, is bound by the same contractual obligations as the rest of you. Or am I to believe there is fine print stating that woman is exempt from her own actions?”

Savage and Ra’s’ lips thinned. As a member of the Light, they all claimed Queen Bee’s actions as a representation of themselves. If she acted against the killer and earned his ire, so did the rest of the Light.

“Come now, Wilson,” Luthor drawled, “The boy is fine, isn't he? He’ll be up and running missions for you in no time”

Slade frowned, knowing the expression would not be conveyed, “He was murdered approximately 32 times and only just regained the capacity to walk”

Luthor frowned in response, “Well, you certainly have our condolences,” he sneered, “But I-”

Slade cut Luthor off smoothly, “I am well aware of the uses Cobb had offered the Light and the assumptions of what benefits his continued presence would offer. Dr. Amanik’s expertise and connection to electrum generation and the evolution project, amongst other things”

Luthor’s lips turned down gravely when he realized that Slade was primarily addressing Savage and Ra’s now. 

“In honor of the kind of employee I’m sure you imagined when you contracted me,” Slade began, “I will be continuing our working relationship with the standing factors and obligations I agreed to” he leaned forward and steepled his fingers. He lowered his tone until he nearly felt his own throat vibrating on certain syllables, “However, I will expect certain leeways and admissions to be made in respect to what has transpired”

Savage frowned, “What are you requesting, Wilson?"

“I want access to any and all information you have in regards to William Cobb. His capture and elimination will take precedence until my apprentice and I resume any contracting work”

“As you’ve just stated”, Ra’s responded menacingly, “William and his numerous connections offer the Light certain benefits that cannot be easily replicated with other persons” 

Slade didn’t blink, “Then negate them”

The men watched each other closely and Slade released an amused breath of air, “It does you little good to maintain the facade that I am unaware of your plans for me and my student in the coming years. It would take an imbecile to miss the intersecting lines you’ve drawn between the evolution project, keeping Cobb alive, and your newly manufactured chips. But” Slade purred, “I will humor you and look the other way, as I have been doing since the start of my contract. If. This. Stipulation. Is. Met,” he replied very low and very slowly. 

“We are all aware of your plans for my apprentice, and in the end, it will only benefit us all to see the world rid of William Cobb’s existence. Not only has he continually put Renegade in harm’s way, but I know you are aware that he desires the boy for his natural well of electrum”

Savage's lips turned down in acknowledgment, “It is only business, Wilson. You know this was inevitable”

Slade leaned back with a cool facade, “I never stated I did not understand. I'm a businessman at heart, Vandal. But you are a fool to think that would take precedence over my boy. Especially now that certain details and truths have come to light, certain verifiable truths”

Savage was as stoic as Slade, returning the man’s watchful eye with few tells. Slade wanted to test the man, as simple and vague as the statement was, Slade was all too eager to see Savage's reaction to Slade’s confirmation that Savage’s secret was out in the open. One of the first things Dick had done, when he was able to maintain consciousness for longer than a handful of minutes, was to break down and unravel. As soon as it became clear that something other than torture and taunting had taken place, Slade was quick to utilize the kid’s conditioning to wrangle the new information from him. It made sense in the end, that a distant relative of Savage, however far and removed, would be able to withstand the inhuman injections of electrum and adamantium. Slade hadn't theorized to the extent that William and Savage had conspired to find a survivable test subject such as Mary Grayson , but his interest in the boy, outside of his success as a talon, was evident from day one. 

Slade never allowed himself to be fooled by the notion that Savage sought to employ him from his reputation as a contract killer alone, but Dick’s recount provided all the information Slade needed to fill the gaps. Watching Savage’s lack of reaction gave Slade all the confirmation he needed to move forward. The man had obviously not permitted the rest of the Light to learn why he had been invested in the Court’s experiments if at all, they knew of his involvement. It would be a gratifying reality to lord over the man, if possible, but for now, Slade was content letting him know that his secret and attachment to the boy were no longer hidden.

Luthor waved a hand and sniffed, “Why can’t you just deliver the decrepit man to death’s door?” he demanded of the others. No one replied, and Slade smirked knowingly, “Is it because the good doctor has not yet finished your little side project?” Ra’s looked sharply at Wilson over that, but Slade was undeterred, “Spare me the facade, Ra’s. Your daughter’s activity has been blatantly transparent. I have done you the courtesy of staying out of your affairs and even kept my student from looking too closely and causing a scene, but you will not be subject to future courtesies if my demands are not met, as simple as they are”

“How would the boy even become aware of anything I or my daughter partake in?” Ra’s demanded. 

Slade despised his tone, which was begging for Slade to reveal too much too quickly, to act a fool, which he was not, “Oh? Did Queen Bee not inform you of the reason behind Klarion’s and Renegade's little spat?”

Slade knew his sudden, casual reference would infuriate those after he had previously made the event such a ludicrously big deal, “Klarion let slip that he has been given access to a girl with certain magical affinities. Holding captive children from alternative universes is not something that would sit well with most. My apprentice is not an exception to that sentiment”

Ra’s didn't reply, but Slade knew that the gears were turning in the Demon's Head, most likely making plans to punish and silence numerous mouths for speaking one too many words. The man's secret project was out in the open and growing more transparent. Slade knew that Klarion was being given access to more power so that he could do something with the Pit for Ra’s and Talia Al Ghul but knowledge of their plans ended there, he just hoped that the master assassin overestimated him and assumed he’d investigated their entire plan, acting as a barrier and contingency plan for him without having to do the hard digging for the information. 

“You can rid us of William, but do it on our terms,” Savage implored politely, “Do not rush this Deathstroke”

Slade crossed his arms and cocked his head over Savage’s tone, “You misunderstand, Vandal. That has been the plan up until now. But neither myself nor my student has been proffered the defense and protection that my reputation, and respect, would naturally demand” his single eye zeroed in on the man coldly, “If you insinuate that I am dependant on your time table one more time, I will end this call and you will not hear of me until you find William Cobb’s head on your doorstep”

Luthor scoffed something along the lines of brute under his breath. Savage glared scathingly but nodded, “Rest assured,” he snapped, “You have been heard loud and clear Deathstroke”

“Now-” Ra’s began.

“Good,” Slade said simply . He stood with an ease that did not reflect the current situation and ended the call.

____________________________________________________________________________________

He couldn't breathe…he…he couldn't breathe!

He had no lungs, but his chest was still desperate to rise, to inhale, and intake, but his mouth wouldn't open and his lungs wouldn't work. His lips were sealed shut-he reached for his face only to realize he couldn't move. He was being held down again. Panic as fierce as lightning lit him up and he seized and twisted, desperate not to go back to the white room. Or the black room. He couldn't persist in the lack of an existence again. He’d rather wallow away and die than waste away on the soft, bright white floor forever. Footsteps wrenched his attention away from his panic just long enough to twist, desperate to see where Grandmaster was coming from. Did he have the whip? Was Lincoln with him? His punishments always ended earlier when Lincoln attended.

He turned towards Lincoln and yelped as his face met something incredibly hard . His head began ringing, and he brought a hand to his nose. He groaned audibly as his face thumped in time with his pulse. The realization that he was using his hand slapped him in the face. As he lay on the ground, his skyrocketing heartbeat calming little by little, Dick realized he was face down on the floor in his bedroom. The fear that had been his one and only concern moments ago fell away and left him feeling cold and clammy. He frowned and winced, feeling like he’d run a mile and then stood in a freezing gust of wind-the epitome of uncomfortable.

He pushed himself to his knees, blinking away the spots in front of his eyes to realize his room was dark. Moments returned in disjointed pieces and Dick remembered that Slade had him take a handful of sleeping pills before informing him that he’d be gone for the night, checking on his men. Dick cringed as his knees popped and his wrists cracked. He had no idea how long he’d managed to sleep, but he’d obviously burned through whatever over-the-counter Nyquil Slade had tried to overdose him on. The mercenary wasn't back yet and Dick had come to associate reality with Slade’s presence at his bedside.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet before trudging over to the bathroom. It was a small single shower situation, and purposefully the only full bathroom on base without a tub. He turned on the dim light and blinked rapidly. He blearily rubbed at his face and the sleep that had formed from such a deep but short rest. Goosebumps took root along his arms as the cold tiled room started to chill. To combat the cold, Dick quickly turned on the hot water and dunked his hands under, making sure the water pooled just above his wrists and ran down his fingertips. He sighed at the drastic difference and tipped his head forward. Before he realized it, he was bent over and wrestling the majority of his weight on his elbows, propped against the edge of the porcelain.

The room, the hot water, and the subtle buzz of the bathroom lights made the perfect white noise. Dick found himself drifting off while still on his feet and it made for a wonderfully euphoric numbness to let his entire sensory experience widdle down to the warmth encompassing his hands in the cold bathroom. For what felt like a few moments, all he could see was the darkness behind his eyelids, and his body felt at peace… undisturbed.

“Richard-”

A hand on his bent shoulder broke him from his peace, and he jumped, whirling around to find Wintergreen at his back. The older man was watching with concern, a towel in one hand and water in the other. Dick swallowed, his head foggy and slightly aching.

“Will?” he croaked.

Wintergreen watched his eyes before smiling sadly, “Come on, dear boy. Let's get you back to bed”

Dick found himself watching as Wintergreen guided his hands back to his side and guided him to stand straight. He vaguely wondered how long he’d been bent over the sink for his hands to turn that shade of pink, but the thought was dismissed as Wintergreen gently patted his forearms and down with the towel. He took Dick by the elbow and guided him back to his bed where he was pushed to sit down. Dick looked up at Wintergreen, wondering in a nonsensical fashion, how the man had gone from looking up at him to looking down at him. Wintergreen spoke with a clipped tone but his eyes didn't reflect the same level of severity, “I'm sure you've gathered that Slade hasn't returned yet” he cracked the seal on the water, “You could do with some much-needed sleep still, so let's get you back to bed and I'm sure he'll have returned by then”

Dick accepted the water bottle but didn't comment on how icy it felt in his palm. He took a sip to humor the other man, but couldn't find the motivation or desire to actually drink from it . He tried blinking some more sleep and fuzzy spots from his vision when he went a second too long without blinking. The hand in front of him gestured and Dick moved to return the water to it without a second thought. He looked up as their hands connected, and for a second, just a brief glimpse that was long enough to convince his brain…Grandmaster stood before him. Dick’s look had been too brief so his master’s face had been blurred but he was dressed well, sans his jacket, and his white hair was just as pristine and bright.

Dick choked, shamefully realizing how horrendous his display was. He lurched forward, desperate to make sure his respect was known. He slid off the bed and fell to his knees. He dropped his head to his chest until he felt the skin on his nape protest. He couldn't stomach another punishment. He wanted to be allowed to visit with Lincoln. He still wanted his meals. He didn't want absolute brightness or darkness. He-his breath was too fast and Dick stupidly decided to hold his breath instead of working to slow it down. Grandmaster hated any overt behaviors and displays of weakness; increased breathing could be taken as a sign of weakness, of physical incapability.

“Richard?”

That didn't sound like Grandmaster, but he knew voices changed. Grandmaster usually sounded the same, but Lincoln's voice changed all the time . Sometimes it was bright and warm, and other times it was dark and morose .

“Please forgive me, please forgive me, please forgive me”

He continued to repeat , desperate for his internal narrative to become reality . The shoes in front of his face looked far less regal than Grandmaster’s usual standards, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment. Every other thought was clouded by the feeling of dying: of choking on his blood, of watching the world tilt and fade as blood trickled down from his forehead.

“Richard…”

“Grandmaster,” he rasped. The legs in front of him jumped slightly. Then the left shoe turned, and then the right, and then they were leaving , leaving him . He choked on a wet inhale, unsure of what to do, how to make it all better.

He dropped his head down, nearly collapsing onto all fours as his mind raced.

“Yes, I’m sure!”

…

“Get back-”

“- eeds you now!”

 

…

 

 

….

 

“- ammit Wilson!”

Snippets of a conversation that made little sense reached his ringing ears, and he looked up. Grandmaster was gone, and he was in a bedroom that he’d never seen before. He was still kneeling on the ground and the feeling of his heels digging into his butt was starting to aggravate his senses. Footsteps returning jerked him from his musings. He looked up to see the cracked door in front of him pull open wider. An older man with white hair and a mustache entered. His skin was dressed in aging spots, and his eyes were the warmest shade he’d ever seen.

The man was dressed in casual house shoes and slacks. His button down shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and he watched Dick with hesitant attention. Concern was evident, but so was wariness.

Dick swallowed, feeling like he was trying to consume his own uvula, “Wintergreen?” It was almost a genuine question.

Wintergrnee’s shoulders dropped as if padding had been removed from under his shirt. He approached Dick much quicker and knelt until they were at eye level, “How are you feeling my boy?”

Dick gazed around, peering over the man’s bent shoulders, “What happened?”

Wintergreen sighed and looked away. Dick’s stomach clenched at what looked like disappointment on the older man’s face, What did I do?

“Come on, lad. Let's get you to bed”

Dick merely nodded and let Wintergreen manhandle him up and backward. He messily scooched himself back on the bed while Wintergreen did his best to pull the covers back for him. After some struggling Dick found himself staring up at the ceiling.

“I'm so tired, Will,” he looked up, imploring the older man to do something. He was the adult, right? Slade always seemed to make his issues vanish, always found something to take his mind off things. Couldn't Wintergreen act like adults from books and stories and banish what plagued him with a good lecture and a pat on the back?

“Just get some rest, Richard”

Dick nodded, more content to follow directions than question them for the time being. He watched Wintergreen make his way around the room, stopping every so often to turn off a light or pick up a discarded piece of clothing. Feeling much younger and smaller than his mid-twenties, Dick watched Wintergreen clean up after him. Doing so brought another slow wave of drowsiness, but he was content. He felt warm and Wintgereen had even tucked his blankets into his side , giving him an added layer of comfort like when Dick sometimes fisted his blanket under his chin.

He yawned and blinked largely, realizing he had had them closed. When they pulled down again, he didn't fight it this time. Second by second seemed to drag on as he saw nothing and listened to the familiar sounds of Wintgereen’s feet and his huffed breathing every time he had to stoop down for something.

That was the last thing Dick remembered

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Tim?”

The lean dark dark-haired boy halted and turned. His features were monotone and intimidating until he saw who had called for him. Megan didn't need to delve into her teammate's mind to see the moment he forced his lips from their naturally downturned position to greet her, nor when he softened the frown marring his forehead and the corners of his eyes. Megan had seen Bruce Wayne’s frown and used to think nothing of it. The man was an incredible genius, so it would only make sense for his emotional intelligence and capacity to be quite high as well. Her uncle once told her that humans with high emotional intelligence often held high IQs as well, but that meant that they were equally good deceivers as well . But when Megan first joined the Young Justice team, she began to truly see how parental figures imprinted on their young in similar ways-passing down physical traits and mental ones.

Robin, similar to Batman, was very meticulous in who and how he offered emotional reactions to . She used to think he was just an overly joyous and welcoming individual, as she’d only ever seen him laugh with Wally, crack jokes with Artemis, and so forth. But as they grew older and their mission approvals grew more severe , she saw the way his expressions deepened and darkened, revealing more of the Bat lingering inside the original Robin.  The same could be said for all of the Robins that came after. Of course, they were their own person and were subject to individual preferences and tendencies, but as each Robin trained and came into their own, she couldn't help but notice the ways Batman and Bruce Wayne lingered with each boy.

The second Robin seemed to inherit more of Batman than anyone else. He was brutish and crass. He was dark and intimidating. He was physically and emotionally reflective of the Dark Knight-coming off just as large and scary to most people. The third Robin seemed to take after Bruce Wayne, just as well, being more socially open and fluid, some would even say manipulative, considering how outgoing the introvert seemed at times. But he took to Wayne Ent. and the corporate world like a fish to water.

The most recent Robin was different, everyone could agree on that to some extent, but Megan thought it was moreso due to his lack of influence from the Bat and Bruce Wayne. Damian was the only Robin who had been raised by another Robin. He’d come for the Dark Knight but stayed for Nightwing. Megan still remembered the forced therapy sessions and yelling matches between the Bat and his son, or Damian and his brothers. But his growth and development over the last 10 years had been tremendous in ways that the other Robins had never changed. Sure, they had gotten better and more skilled, and changed their costumes and names, but they had never reintroduced themselves to the world and opened up to character development the way Richard inspired Damian to do so.

The change in the brothers was made more readily apparent the older they got . Tim’s voice jarred her from her musings and, like Bruce Wayne, she found herself speaking with a perfectly polite facade.

“What's up, Megan?”

She banished thoughts of the others, knowing that her intended topic of conversation would be difficult enough as it was, “Can we talk?” She looked around, “If you have time. I know you are super busy-”

Tim smiled slightly and nodded, “I am,” he agreed, “But I'm not in a rush right now. Is everything alright?”

She nodded and smiled back, making sure to return the same amount of smile. Her uncle had made sure she was well aware of the negative effects she could inspire if she didn't meet others with the level of emotion they gave her. He’d said they would become overwhelmed and put off by her. An emotion she’d come to find described in the word ‘weird’.

She nodded as they began to walk down a separate, less-used hallway of the Mt. Justice base, “Yeah, I just wanted to check with you about something…I guess”

He cocked his head, “ Okkkayyy ?”

She dropped her gaze to their feet, noting how scuffed his boots were, “I-I guess I just wanted to make sure everything was okay…and I dunno” She struggled to put her feelings into words, “I know you and your brothers don't love to be confronted with emotional topics in front of others-”

“Most people rarely do,” Tim replied in a tight voice.

She grinned awkwardly, “Right, yeah. I just mean-”

“Megan,” Tim cut her off with a polite tone, “What's wrong?”

“I felt Dick again” she forced out.

“Oh” 

She glanced up to find Tim’s expression was vaguely negative but not very surprised, “You knew? Know? That something happened?”

Her words were choppy, and she struggled not to stutter. Tim was younger than her, younger than most of the Young Justice team, but the way he held himself often made her forget that. Tim’s brow collapsed inward, “Yeah”

He looked angry and Miss Martian wasn't confident in continuing, “I-it was a while ago,” she admitted, “Right around when Arkham had that big break out”

Tim didn't reply, so she kept going, her gaze finding comfort in a little notch on the wall beside Tim’s shoulder, “It woke me up, honestly . The pain. Because of what happened last time, I tried to focus on him and what was happening in case we needed to know where he was , but it was difficult . It was like our connection kept getting interrupted and re-established, and it was all outside of my control,l which” she looked up again, “Is really strange because it’s not like Nightwing could, or even knows how to break and re-establish mental links on his own”

“It was awful,” she said thickly, “The moments we were connected were painful enough for my uncle to have to sedate me. I couldn't take it,” she looked up at Tim, “I couldn't take it, Tim. I'm not weak, but the pain was too much, too everywhere, and-”

“You don't have to continue,” Tim said in a tone that didn't actually offer her an option, “I know. We know,” he stated tiredly.

She fiddled with a hangnail on her right thumb as she battled with her hesitation, “I almost said something. My uncle helped me tell Superman but he said that he had already spoken to Batman and that he was working with Deathstroke and would be returning to Gotham and….” she trailed off, “Well I guess it seemed like you guys were already dealing with it, or aware I guess” she nodded to Tim, “But I wanted to make sure everything was ok. That you guys were ok. What I felt wasn't anything to disregard, but no one has spoken about it”

Tim was silent for a while,e but Megan didn't get the sense he wanted her to leave. He leaned against the wall with his shoulder and crossed his arms, “Yea” he said eventually, “Some stuff happened and I ca-won’t go into all of it just yet but I'm pretty sure what you were feeling on and off was Dick dying”

Megan’s ears buzzed for a second. “What?” she asked bluntly.

Tim didn't meet her eyes and a strong coldness seemed to inhabit his features, “ Cobb-from the Court of Owls ambushed Dick and Deathstroke and tried to take back control-of Dick-of Talon. We went back in with Deathstroke and rescued Dick, but while he was alone, Cobb had him murdered….a lot. I think it was to try and break down his mental agency and make it easier for him to fall back into the mindset he was in as a Talon, but nothing happened”

Tim stopped and then chuckled darkly, “Well, no shit happened, but we took care of it and Slade took Dick and he’s healing at a base in North America. Slade has a companion, Wintergreen, who’s been sending us a few updates every now and then. We aren't sure how true they are, but it’s something at least”

“This guy is sending you updates on Dick?” she repeated, “Behind Deathstroke’s back? Isn't that dangerous?”

Tim shrugged, “For most people, yeah, but Wintergreen is different. He and Deatshtroke were in the army together years ago. Deathstroke took the super soldier serum, but Wintergreen didn’t. And we don't necessarily think he’s informing us of stuff behind Slade’s back, just that he’s the one doing it” Tim glared at the floor, “Deathstroke's ego is too big to do it himself so I assume he wants to act like his friend or partner, or whatever, is doing this without his knowledge”

He made quick eye contact with the red-headed martian, “B wouldn't let them leave until Slade agreed to send updates on Dick’s condition” He shrugged, “But I mean there wasn't much we could do anyway. Short of kidnapping Dick and then dealing with his pissy attitude when he woke up and got better, we made sure he was safe and breathing before we had to head back and help with Gotham”

Tim couldn't help but think back to those last few moments in Slade’s warehouse. Bruce had already departed, and Jason and Damian had delivered their most seething, spiteful looks before making their entrance out a window…after breaking it unnecessarily, of course. He’d turned back to Slade and watched the mercenary as he hovered over his brother. He knew the killer would take care of Dick and the reality of that sat like a stone in Tim’s stomach. He despised the relationship his brother had with the killer. He hated that Dick was such an open person, he’d even welcomed the challenge of Deathstroke at such an early age, earning Slade’s undivided and obsessive attention. 

“If you plan on staring a hole into the side of my head, can I offer you some eye drops?”

Tim glared harder at the white-haired man, but he was met with a look that epitomized disinterest, “You didn't give us access to your location”

It was both a statement and an accusation. Slade turned to look at the boy. While he was leaner and packed less muscle than any other Robin, he was equally as tall and capable. Slade often wondered as to what his apprentice’s eyes would look like with the 3rd Robin’s shade of blue. So much darker, so much less expressive, and hard to read.

“What of it?”

“Who did?” Tim demanded, “I'm assuming that access will be revoked again if I tried, but who has access and hacked your own systems?”

Slade’s eye was unreadable when he answered, “A colleague of mine-”

“One of Dick’s teammates or Major Wintergreen?”

“I see you've done your homework”

“It's not that hard to find your 3 friends” 

Slade finally smirked, taking a liking to the spitfire moment, “Temper your tone, boy. If you hadn't had prior access, you wouldn't have known to check my location ping in the first place”

“I only had prior access because you wanted to taunt us. Show us how at home Dick can be with you. It was pathetic”

Slade’s iris cooled to a cold iron-colored silver, “A man can try,” he murmured, “If it’s any consolation, you weren't my intended audience. Does the Bat even know?”

“No, but he will soon”

“Going to update Daddy when you get back?”

“No,” Tim replied with a sneer, “But you and I both know that it only takes B so long to connect the dots, and even then, keeping anything from him would only hinder us”

“Hinder you in what way?” Slade purred, “In your search to draw Richard back to your waste of a normative life? Or in your facade of a fight against the Light?”

“You know those aren't mutually exclusive,” Tim spat.

Slade chuckled and rose from where he had been lording over Dick , “You’re my favorite replacement” Slade stated. Tim tried not to let that affect him. He hated how Jason picked such a common, well-used insult as a nickname for him. He knew the spite behind the name had faded while the name itself stuck around, but Tim still hated it. Slade began to make his way to the kitchen, “So damn smart and intuitive compared to the rest of them. Smarter than the Bat even. Wayne could've never managed this”

“Don't even try to kiss my ass. It won't get you brownie points with Dick” Tim snapped.

Slade chuckled, “I'm not, but I might try that. No, I meant that Wayne could never dream of achieving the level of intellectual and emotional capacity you’ve leveled out at, at such a young age, too. That man child could easily have one of the world’s topmost IQs, but he is entirely too left-brained, and that is what will cause him to lose, in the end”

“Batman may lose battles, but he never loses the war,” Tim stated.

Slade sighed like Tim was a child, “I looked forward to it, really” he said like Tim had never spoken, “His outlook and mentality has already lost him, Dick. That foul-mouthed one is not far behind, and once he goes, then the youngest will too. But you” Tim was already watching Slade when he turned to him, “You'll hang on the longest, have the most hope for either party, but you’ll lose faith in him too. Don’t worry, your brother will always be welcoming of you brats , so you won't lose much-”

“Save it!” Tim snapped, “Stop with the mind games, Deathstroke. You're good but not that good”

Slade smirked at Tim, “Like I said…one of my favorite replacements. If you could take a punch like Todd, I think you’d seal it. Or maybe Todd just needs your brains. The Al Ghul brat is too much of a child prodigy for my tastes. Without his natural talent, he's nothing but sped food ego”

“But Cobb wasn’t detained?” Megan’s question jarred Tim from his thoughts. He looked up, hoping his expression hadn't been distant or obvious, “No. He had the same teleportation device that the Light likes to use and vanished. Deathstroke wasn't even sure if the Light gave it to him and officially turned on him and Dick but we don’t think so. They would've separated them, not left Dick to Cobb’s torture in some stupid warehouse”

“He got away?!” Megan’s voice was shocked and slightly horrified. 

“You weren't there,” Tim snapped defensively. Megan’s eyes widened and she watched him warily.

Tim didn’t feel sorry, but his response was immediate, “Sorry,” he replied, “It's not an easy topic, and I wasn't prepared to debrief on this with anyone. B has been keeping it under wraps, and the only ones who know are Ollie, Canary, Supes, and Flash”

Her lips curved into something softer instantly, and she nodded. Even if she didn't truly understand, she could acknowledge that Nightwing wasn't her blood brother and she hadn't been present. She knew how important revealing secrets was when someone was actually ready to do so.   When she was a child on the Young Justice team, Queen Bee had forced the revelation of her secret as a white Martian. At the time, she wanted to die because she couldn't take the feeling of losing control over her one important secret, especially one so shameful, back on her planet. Luckily, Robin and her teammates not only proved their loyalty and support but continued to prove it as time went on, lessening the impact of her secret being exposed.

“It’s ok,” she said, meaning it truly, “I just wanted to explain what I experienced and make sure you were ok. It's not my place to pry”

Tim's brow softened, but he didn't refute her statement. Megan wished he did, but she knew Batman raised his children to be just as reclusive as him when it came down to it. She let it drop and told herself she should be grateful for his honesty instead of wishing for more truth.

_____________________________________________________________________________

His thoughts were fuzzy and nearly non-existent. Awareness seemed to flit through him like the wind: he was aware of it, but capturing and retaining any was near impossible. He was warm…and tight. The surface beneath him was soft, and his pillow was fluffed to nearly past his ears. His arms were trapped at his side, but he couldn't care less because of how utterly content his mind and body were. Every inch of him felt compressed the perfect amount. He was warm but not hot. He lay there, floating in darkness and mentally sighing in peace for what felt like a few moments. He considered opening his eyes and reacquainting himself with his surroundings, but the thought of banishing the soft peace he’d come to find was deterred easily enough.

A sound piqued his attention enough times for him to wonder what it was. A rustling of clothing or socked feet against the floor, maybe. He turned his head to the sound, but the new positioning only made him exhale deeply, finding yet again more comfort and a new way to sink into his soft surroundings. A deep velvety chuckle met his ears, but it wasn't enough to pry open his eyes. The rustling sound was heard again, closer this time. The bed dipped at his hip, and some small dark part of him, as lethargic as it was, whispered estimates for the person’s weight and height…always aware of threats and possible lethality.

He groaned his displeasure at the small disruption to his peace, and the chuckle was all that was returned to him. Soon after, a warm hand found itself on the crown of his head. Long calloused fingers were dragged up and down, even side to side, and while he felt mildly like a dog, the pleasure that curled in his lower stomach was too great. He hummed, straining his sluggish limbs to push into the hand, to encourage the motion to continue. The hand brushed his hair away from his forehead in long pulls that tugged at his scalp in just the right ways. That same hand eventually pulled down to his face and started to trace a path up and down the cheek that wasn't pressed into his pillow. His eyebrow was caressed in short, warm touches, and his cheek and temple tingled pleasurably from the repetitive pets across his skin.

He hummed low in his throat, absolutely in love with the utter contentment vibrating through his body. His awareness came in waves, coming and going with that touch until finally, he wasn’t aware of anything else.

Chapter 42

Notes:

Hey there! here's another ch. The next few were super fun to write lol

“What are you doing, Replacement?”

Tim rolled his eyes as Jason announced himself. He heard additional footsteps and craned his neck back to see who else was with him. Roy offered a quick wave at Tim, and the younger boy gave a quick jerk of his chin in greeting before collapsing back onto the couch. Roy, like Wally, was just a brother who seemingly didn't defer to Bruce, or live with them. In fact, Roy, being the oldest out of their entire childhood friend group, and human, had come to bond with the bat brothers in more ways than one would expect. Roy was the only person Dick ever had in place of a big brother, but the difficulties that the redhead faced growing up, often made Dick appear as the more mature and capable of the two. Over time, Roy didn't automatically assume the big brother or older friend role as much on default, but his place amongst the bats and original sidekicks never faded. Being a fellow ragtag pick-up by a vigilante billionaire on the East Coast was quite the trauma bonder.

Tim ignored Jason and continued typing away at his laptop. He’d been enjoying the quiet of the manor while Alfred was out running errands, Damian was sequestered in the cave, and Bruce was making a rare appearance for the Wayne Ent. board of trustees. Jason hadn't been present for a few weeks, but Tim found that he appreciated the lack of tense moments. Even when Bruce and Jason didn't go at each other, the air around them was tense with the possibility. Jason sloppily rolled himself over the back of the couch and plopped down beside Tim, “Hey, don't ignore me”

Tim continued to do just that.

“Hey you little fuck” Jason probed in a joking voice. He pushed the screen of Tim’s laptop closed, just to be greeted with an unimpressed frown and arched brow. Tim rolled his eyes and scooted away, pressing himself further into the cushions. He reopened his laptop only for Roy to lean down over his shoulder, “What are you researching, Tim?” the older boy asked a bit more seriously.

Tim sighed, realizing he wasn't going to make any more progress, “I'm looking into who attended Luthor’s secret investors meeting a while back”

Jason sighed and pulled out his phone to scroll online, “That again? Jesus”

He went ignored. Roy nodded, “Yea, Ollie was pissed at Juarez and all too happy to out him to Bruce. I didn't realize you guys actually crashed that thing though? I figure it would've been too risky because Luthor actually knows half of the JL”

Tim nodded, “It was, so we actually had to keep up the act, but it’s always fun watching Bruce trying to act dumb. It went alright though, we got a lot and Bruce has been working with Barry like every other day on some new theories”

Roy nodded, “If that’s what happened, then the recent shitstorm makes more sense. Ollie’s had it out for his board and secretary recently. Even Aunt Dinah had to get involved and cool him down a little”

Jason barked out an obscene laugh, “Hope he gets canned,” he muttered from behind his phone.

“So why are you looking into who was there?” Roy asked, genuinely curious, “Didn't Bruce recognize them all? All those rich guys know each other. Hell, they didn't waste any time trying to make us all friends”

Jason dropped his phone on his chest, “I remember that” he sneered, “Dick wouldn't let any of those punks talk to me at the galas after you and Dickie turned ‘em down”

Tim ignored Jason again, “He didn't actually. I mean, it's obvious they're all billionaires if they were invited, but Bruce only knew 2 guys there. Everyone else must have been from oversees”

“Or black market rich,” Roy pointed out.

“Actually, that's why I'm looking into them,” Tim added, “There was one guy there, Lev Anatoly”

“Russian?” Roy asked, his interest piqued even more.

Tim nodded, “Yep,” he popped the p, “Big arms dealer. He’s involved with tons of stuff, but most of his money stems from funding Russian armed forces, on paper at least. If he’s this rich on paper from legit gun sales, I can only imagine how padded he is for his black market deals”

Tim, to explain better, opened his laptop again and started pulling up document after document, his Google browser already loaded to the max with tabs. Roy leaned over the arm of the couch to scan over the younger boy’s shoulder.

“What's so special about him?” Roy said after a moment of reading.

“Apparently, Timmy here heard him talking to Luthor about Dickhead” Jason casually interjected. Tim glared at Jason’s lackadaisical attitude before nodding to Roy, “Bruce and I kind of had to make a quick exit at the end because Dick was chasing Jason, but I heard Luthor talk to this guy about Dick, in relation to Deathstroke-er actually, he said Wilson, so I think they don't know Slade is Deathstroke”

“Deathstroke undercover?” Roy laughed, “I’d love to see that. What’s he gonna pretend to be? Grumpy?”

Tim smiled slightly, “It just really bothered me because Dick hasn't really been involved in anything but vigilante work this whole time but that made it sound like Slade was dragging Dick into civilian stuff, even if they’re arguably just as shady”

Roy grew more concerned, “Why? What did this guy say to Wilson?”

“ No , that's the thing. Dick was there” Tim stressed, “Luthor told Dick to stay behind and it had something to do with Wilson. It's like a little bit of each word bothered me”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up, “Dick was there? Luthor was using him as security for that thing?”

“Dont you listen to a word, I say?” complained Jason, "He was on my ass-I was a great decoy" He was ignored.

“Yeah, it just doesn't spell anything good,” he sighed, “That's why I wanted to know more about Anatoly specifically. Like why is he interested in Dick now too?”

“Well, Jade did mention that Deathstroke has a private security corporation for legal purposes,” Roy pointed out, “Ollie called it a firm one time, but I'm not really sure if there’s a difference”

“There is,” Tim replied instantly, “We've worked with them before, but on the not-so-legal side of missions,” Tim replied, “But I can’t find any obvious connection between this guy and Slade Wilson. I already know trying to find a connection between him and Deathstroke will be impossible”

“So why are we trying?” Jason drawled from behind his phone. His attitude readily apparent.

“If you would listen for once,” Tim shot back, “Then you’d know that this has suspicious written all over it. It's only smart for us to know however much we can”

“And you can't find anything on him?” Roy asked, "It kind of sounds like Wilson being Wilson, you know? Taking deals and being contracted for whatever..."

Tim shook his head, “No, I can find some legal stuff to verify his name, address, company, all the boring stuff, but nothing between him and Wilson or Luthor. Hell, the only recent information I can find is a news outlet in Russia and Yugoslavia rumoring him to be attending some sort of event with his kid”

“Really?” Roy asked, “It must be legit if he’s taking his kid there”

“No”, Tim rebutted tiredly, “She's almost 20. It's just that she's his only legal kid, so you know…rich guy and his heirs and all that”

Roy nodded, “Poor girl probably hears all the time how she should've been a boy. This might be nothing, like seriously. He might just be trying to marry her off if she's over 18”

Jason chuckled snidely, “Yea, imagine if they're trying to get her and Dickhead together. Wilson’s little prodigy with this stuck-up Russian heiress”

No one replied to shut him down, so he looked up from his scrolling, surprised to see both Roy and Tim focused on him; their faces pale. He frowned, “It was a joke!”

Tim looked back down at his laptop, “Fuck…..that could totally be what this is”

“What? A date for golden boy?” Jason sat up more.

“Not really, but what if Wilson is dangling Dick around for business? Her dad is a huuuuge weapons dealer and Deathstroke the Terminator kind of likes guns”

“Ok, wait wait wait” Jason held up his hands, “Let's not snowball off the one time you guys listened to me, ok?”

Tim looked at Roy, once again ignoring Jason, “It could be a handful of other things, but this is totally plausible”

Roy looked down at the laptop and bit his lip, “I dunno” he admitted, “What can we even do, even if this is kind of what's happening?” he rubbed his nape uncomfortably, “And like, not to be a dick, but Jason’s kind of right? Are we really gonna get in between Dick and his date? Even if it's some weird level of matchmaking….it's just a date”

Tim shook his head, “No, no I'm not talking about intervening like that . I mean if Deathstroke is going to start using Dick on a public level with civilians then this might become really bad really fast and we need to know more about it in case we have to intervene”

Roy nodded, slightly more amicable, “Ok, but still. What can we do? You just said that you can barely find stuff on him, let alone connections with Lutor and Wilson”

Tim groaned and grabbed his hair in a quick, frustrated tug, “You're not listening. That's why this is so important, he's obviously tried to stay under the radar, but we can use this public appearance” he tapped his laptop's screen aggressively, “To track him and see what's up”

“You're planning a covert mission like it's a last-minute date, Replacement” Jason crossed his arms. Tim bristled, “We need to! This is happening tomorrow! I can't find anything else about him”

“There might be more events or appearances,” Roy suggested.

“And what if there aren't?”

Roy looked to Jason for help, but the dark-haired boy stared back blandly. Roy frowned and looked at Tim, “Fine, say we do …..something about this guy. What's your plan? Crash this Russian party across the world? How? With what resources? They’d know Bruce's face in an instant, and he can't stalk from them the rooftops as Batman”

Tim shook his head, “No, just us. Bruce would make this operation too big and messy. It can be just us. In and out and easy”

Roy looked uncertain, and Jason smirked, “Let him cook man, this will be funny when he crashes and burns in the morning. What's the plan? To ask Zantanna to magically make us look like some of his friends and teleport us to Russia?”

Tim froze, but his eyes glinted with the beginnings of motivation, “Exactly,” he breathed.

Jason faltered dumbly, “What?”

"Dude!" Roy reached over and smacked Jason's calf. Tim all but threw his laptop onto the cushion beside him and sat up straighter, “Yeah! Zantanna can help conceal us without any liable prosthetics and we can teleport to the closest zeta, but preferably she’d teleport us” Tim’s eyes were focused past Jason as unconfirmed thoughts began to fall into place without Roy or Jason’s realization, “We can attend this thing without a hitch and see what's up and leave with the regular party guests and no one will ever know the difference. We can have comms ready for Z to teleport us back whenever needed and-”

“Whoa, whoa, Jason's actually got a point here,” Roy said, “There's all sorts of issues, like what about the people we’re impersonating? There can't be two of the same person. And how would we sneak around? If we’re going to be hiding in plain sight, then we’re gonna be expected to talk to these people and we won't know what to talk about or who’s who. I know America's rich, not Russian rich”

Jason nodded, a more serious expression plastered on his lips. Tim was undeterred, “Let me handle that. There might be a way around that, and feeding information to our earpieces is simple. That won't be an issue”

Jason shared an amused look with Roy, "Alright Replacement, if you can figure out a way to get us in and keep us under the radar, then why not. But if you don't have anything by the morning, we shouldn't be in Russia tomorrow night”

Tim nodded, “I'll call Z now”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Zantanna looked just as uncertain as Roy, “I mean, it is possible,” she pulled the sentence out hesitantly.

“But?” Jason knew something else was coming.

She nodded, “But, the kind of subterfuge you’ll want will require me to duplicate you guys as someone else and that comes with serious risks” She twisted a strand of midnight hair around one finger as she thought and spoke, “I mean it's safer than prosthetics like you mentioned” She nodded to Tim, “And it means you guys can stay disguised longer with less work but it’s still not something I want to encourage”

“Why?” Tim persisted, “Is it about holding the spell for too long or-”

“No, the spell is actually super easy, it's about intent, so anyone beyond an amateur should be fine casting it honestly. It's more you guys” she tried putting it lightly. All 3 men looked at her with reserve, so she tried explaining at best she could, “The spell I have in mind would duplicate this other person in you. That means more than just how they look physically. I'd be copying a layer of their hearts and minds, and physiques onto your own”

Their expressions didn't shift, so she continued, “I've seen some pretty negative side effects from this kind of magic if someone wears another’s skin for too long. Your memories will start to meld and you'll see and feel things that aren't actually, well, you, basically. It can be really confusing for some people to not be able to differentiate your own emotions”

Tim nodded thoughtfully, “How soon do these side effects usuallly happen?”

She shrugged, “That's the hard part. My honest answer would be about a day, but I've seen people lose themselves within a few hours. My dad used to work with high-level field experts who could withstand that kind of mind-meld magic for a few weeks-CIA stuff with Waller. It’s super hard to tell you what you’ll experience”

Tim nodded, looking more frustrated than uncertain. Beside them, Roy shot a glance a Jason, who stiffened under his gaze, “Don't” 

Zantanna looked at the friends and instantly picked up on the tense atmosphere, “Batman isn't like forcing you to do this right?” The question was posed more towards Tim. Tim shook his head and responded in a clinical tone, “No, we just realized that Jason might be a liability to feel effects faster because he has trace amounts of the Lazarus Pitt in his blood”

Zantanna nodded, but her expression didn't turn ghastly like most did. Tim supposed she was used to certain unearthly things or people like the pit, “It could go either way, honestly”

“Really?” Jason was suspicious of her optimism.

She nodded, “Definitely. If you have the Lazarus affecting you on a daily basis, then you could already have a pretty strong mental tolerance….Or I could be totally wrong and you’ll just have 2 things fighting for your attention up here,” she tapped her temple.

Jason frowned and crossed his arms, “I'm not staying behind. I handle my green moments well enough. Besides, we aren't gonna be there for that long, right Replacement?”

Zantanna shot Tim a weird look when it was obvious who Jason was talking to. Tim glared before answering, “Yeah, he’s got a point. We’re only sneaking into this event for a few hours. Might even be shorter if we have to make a quick exit, but we were mainly hoping for your help because of the disguise issue and the whole exit thing”

She smirked knowingly, “You want me to teleport you in and out instead of using a zeta transport?”

Tim nodded, “I mean, it’ll be way faster in case anything goes south and we have to make a break for it”

She nodded, “ That will be the hardest part for me. Tomorrow?”

Tim gave her an embarrassed smile, “Tonight, actually”

Her eye twitched before she sighed, “No better than Dick...Alright,” she chuckled to herself, “I'm having flashbacks to how last minute Robin switched up our plans. Aqualad nearly had a heart attack every mission”

Tim smiled slightly. Zantanna wasn't that close with most of the sidekicks outside of the original Young Justice team but it was always nice to hear people speak about Dick. Just simple, sweet recollections of the good times. No bittersweet moments or regret. Especially no pity.

Tim’s chest swelled with preemptive success and motivation, “Awesome, ok. I'm going to finalize a lot today, and then we can head out around late afternoon. I want us to be there a little before on time”

“We don't even know how the timing will work,” Roy interjected, “What if we impersonate people who are always fashionably late or are meeting somewhere else before the event?”

Tim nodded firmly, “That's what I'm gonna confirm before Z returns,” he nodded to the witch, "We'll only mimic people who have minimal risk"

Jason slapped a hand on his temple, “Guys, hello? Red flag here. What about the double issue?”

Zantanna nodded, catching on instantly, “I figured you’d be impersonating real people,” she said in a way that implied they were the idiots for assuming she wouldn't consider common sense, “The main reason I'm forcing us to use this one spell is because it teleports the genuine person to us. We’ll have to knock them out and subdue them quickly, but they won't be there to interfere, not until I bring you back and reverse the spell”

Tim blinked and looked at the others, “Oh…. that's actually really convenient”

She nodded knowingly, “It's a modern-day spell I read up on in one of my dad’s old theory books. I think it was specially designed for spies or subterfuge”

Jason didn't look convinced, “That's hella convenient”

She nodded and shrugged, “I can find a less convenient one if you guys don't like it?”

Jason crossed his arms and glared at her, “That's what I thought” She replied haughtily, “Take it up with my dad if you don't like it. People like him and Klarion are always combining spells and using alternative magic sources, it's how we get modern-day magic. If not, the only stuff we’d be able to do is levitate and teleport from archaic rituals”

Tim shot Jason a silencing glare before turning back to the black and-white-clad witch, “Sounds great, Z. Thanks, seriously”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

“No way,” Jason planted his feet firmly and crossed his arms petulantly, “No way,” he snapped again.

“Dude, just do it,” Roy argued, “It's not that big of a deal”

“Then why don't you do it?” Jason snapped. Roy glared at Jason over his tone but didn't respond, “That's right. Because you don't want a vag either” he pointed a finger at Tim, “Literally anything but that”

Tim’s brow was permanently indented at this point. He sighed and looked at Zantanna, “We just need a minute” She smiled understandably and crossed the room to where Damian’s dog Titus was draped over the sparring mats. Tim watched as she crouched to the great dane's level and began to massage his ears and belly.

He turned back to see Roy and Jason still arguing, “You do it!”

“No! You're just being stubborn!”

“So are you!”

“Guys!” Tim snapped, “It’s gotta be one of us, and since I'm not going you can't waste time fighting about it”

“Pretty convenient, Replacement,” Jason sneered.

Roy shoved him in the shoulder, “Don't be a jackass. He coordinated this whole mission and is like a foot shorter than us. We’ll do better in a fight. Don't rub his face in it”

“I wouldn't say a foot shorter,” Tim mumbled under his breath.

Roy inhaled and closed his eyes. He brought his hands together in a way that Tim imagined he’d speak to Lian as she got older and more difficult, “Look, Jay. You're the lead on this mission. I'm supporting. It only makes sense for you to copy Anatoly’s daughter”

Jason’s eye twitched, “I won't be a girl”

Roy returned his expression, “Dude, it's just a more realistic version of dress up! You've literally squeezed into dresses for Lian!”

Jason looked close to snapping, “That was a dress! I'll be losing my dick if I agree to this!”

“We both will!” Roy snapped back loudly. Jason paused, “What?”

Tim stared down Jason angrily, “If you'd listened! You'd know that Anastasia Anatoly’s security are all female Russian ex-military. Rumor is that her dad doesn't trust male security alone with his heiress”

Jason paused, and the horrible look twisting his lips and eyes faded into something more reflective of amusement, “Ohhhhhh….” he didn't look entirely pleased with the situation but shrugged, “Fine”

Roy gapped and threw up his arms, clenching his short dark red hair, “You're unbelievable”

Jason shrugged and examined his nail bed, “Hey man, fair's fair. Am I right? Equality and feminism and stuff”

Roy dropped his arms at the same time his lip pulled back in an angry expression, “You fucke-”

“Hey!”

They all looked at Zantanna, “No more arguments. We're on a timetable here. We still gotta subdue whoever gets transported here, and then I want to give you guys at least half an hour to adjust to your new bodies without prying eyes”

Jason looked at his brother and friend with that same nasty expression, “Fine,” he agreed, “Let's get this over with. But if I start wanting some guy to put a baby in me, you’ll pay for this Replacement”

Zantanna returned to their sides, “That's not how this works, idiot. You'll feel the person’s emotions, not their gender stereotype. Besides, it'll all fade when you return back to normal” She held up a photo of their 2 female targets to Tim, “This is them, right?”

Tim nodded, looking more closely at the woman Roy would be impersonating. Jason would be taking lead on their covert mission, so they all agreed that he should head the goal to gather intel as well. Everyone wanted to talk to the rich daughter, not the bodyguard, so he would be Anastasia Antoly, or Ana, as Russian news outlets spoke of her. Roy would be the head of her security to minimize anyone demanding specific information or behaviors from him. Roy’s double was a tall, muscular woman who reflected stereotypical strong Slavic women a little too well. She wasn’t overly defined with a flat stomach and a clear complexion, but her tall stature resembled a wall with childbearing hips and dark red hair. Roy’s expression had paled a little when Tim first found a photo of her, but he refused to say any more on the subject.

“Alright, Yelena ,” she tipped a humorous chin to Roy, “And Ana,” She purred teasingly at Jason, “You ready?”

“I am,” chirped Tim. Zantanna couldn't smother her smile completely, but her eyes did calm slightly. She looked back at Tim, “Be ready. I’ll call on Yelena first”

All 3 boys nodded, knowing they’d have to jump the bear of a woman immediately. Zantanna nodded before she fixed her eyes on the picture of the security detail. Her eyes started to emit a shine, which grew into a glow and then enveloped her irises completely. Her lips moved in elegant mumbles and nonsensical vibratos, calling on her magic to head her will. After almost a full minute, Roy glanced at Jason, feeling very much the same. Jason caught his look and was about to return his friend’s shrug when his eyes flew wide. Within the span of one blink, there were 2 very large, muscular women standing before him. Both had short, dark red hair that was pulled back in a tight low bun and nearly rivaled Damian at around 6 feet.

Jason jumped into action quickly, lunging at the farthest woman. She blinked in a stupified manner, but the time it took her to raise a hand was all Jason needed. They went rolling to the ground in a heap, and Jason threw his weight up in a timely manner so he had her pinned beneath her. He heard the others running to his side, but he was quick to pin both flailing wrists beneath either knee and lean forward. He jammed his elbow into the soft tissue between her collarbone and neck, instantly knocking her unconscious.

The discombobulated woman fell limp, and Jason relaxed. He looked over his shoulder to see that same woman beside Tim and Zantanna, “I attacked the right one, right?”

The woman crossed her arms and flipped him off with a scowl. Jason smirked, “Just checking, she’s about as ugly as you were to begin with”

The woman’s scowl deepened, “Just watch this next girl will feint just from seeing your ugly mug”

Jason snickered and stood. He took a closer look at Roy as he spread his arms and looked down at himself. He was dressed in a suit that offered little gender bias. His hair was pulled back tightly and his face was clear of makeup and scars, sans the poorly plucked eyebrows atop brown eyes. Roy looked up with a grimace, “I don't like this,” he admitted.

Jason looked at Tim, “Is that her? Him? Whatever”

Tim nodded and looked from Roy to his phone, “Yeah, it's crazy accurate”

Zantanna crossed her arms, “It's not like I copy-pasted here,” she snapped, “I told you I would literally be layering her soul and body over yours”

Roy stretched out his arms and flexed his feet and thighs, “I don't feel an extra soul”

She narrowed her eyes, “This isn't Harry Potter. You aren't a fucking human horcrux”

She turned to Tim, “Some of the effects, if they start to show, are confusion,” Tim nodded as she began explaining, “Like asking you to repeat what you just said or having random thoughts that aren't related to the topic at hand, stuff like that”

Tim nodded and looked at Jason, “You guys have to check in over the comms system ok?” they nodded, “We can't afford you guys to go all macho on me and then get overwhelmed by this and tank the mission” he doubled down.

“We get it,” Jason snapped. Tim glared, “You can continue,” he said snidely to Zantanna. Jason’s eyes widened slightly, realizing he was about to lose his manhood. Zantanna repeated the incantation, and the boys watched as her eyes became consumed by the same white light that was associated with her father. Tim preferred the way her magic materialized over Kalrion’s. From what Tim had seen so far, Klarion’s magic was dark, holding hints of grey and smoke. Klarion’s magic had felt more crude and desperate. It was darker and used aspects of his surroundings that were always messy, like the wind or dirt, and leaves. Seeing Zantanna in a similar element made it feel so much cleaner and safer. Her control over the situation didn't feel like Kalrion’s scramble for power.

Within one blink, and the next, there was a thin black haired girl in their midst. Tim jerked to the right, realizing there were actually 2. The girl farthest from Tim stumbled back in a panic. Her head whipped around, and she choked on a gasp. The high-pitched sound echoed around the cave, causing the bats above them to flutter and flap their wings in response. The sound earned the girl’s attention, and she nearly shrieked at the amount of narrowed yellowed eyes looking down on them.

Jason chuckled, “Yea, they do that”

Anastasia looked at who had spoken before her face paled and her legs collapsed beneath her, “What…?”

Jason realized he now looked like her and looked down at his arms and legs. Both versions of their news guest bore long, dark hair, which was curled and still warm for the event tonight. They were both clad in tall heels and a slim-fitting black dress, lined with crystals. The bustier was tight, and there were soft satin straps that fell down her shoulders to counter the tight look of the bottom of the dress. When the genuine Anastasia collapsed, she ripped the pre-made thigh slit even more, leaving her a sweaty panicked mess, “Wh-Richard! Where’s Richard, he was supposed to pick me up? My father-”

Her breath caught as she caught sight of Yelena lying behind them, “What-” She swallowed, “Who are you? Is this a ransom?”

Roy looked at Jason, “Well, we have our answer for their connection now?”

“It sounds like he hasn't picked her up yet either,” Tim said, “Which is great. It’ll give you time to get there before Dick gets there”

Anastasia swallowed a sob, “Please, my father will pay whatever you want. Please, I-”

“Hey, hey, shhhh” Jason crouched down in a move that was entirely Redhood but looked out of place on the Russian heiress, “Don't worry your pretty little head. You're just gonna take a nap, and then you'll wake up and think this was all just a weird dream. You got roofied”

“Jason!” Tim snapped. The fake Anastasia rolled her eyes and shoved herself to her feet, swaying slightly to maintain balance over the thick black heels, “Let's get this show on the road already” he looked at Zantanna, “Can you keep them both under?”

“No need’ Tim said, “I don't want her using any magic than necessary since you guys are gonna be across the world in enemy territory. I'll sedate them every hour just to make sure”

“Is that safe?” Roy asked.

Tim shrugged, “It's not recommended, but the worst that'll happen is a horrible stomach ache or something. It's fine. I'll lock them in the cells in the back and keep an eye on them while we monitor you guys”

“Wait a minute, what about the Demon Brat?” Jason placed his manicured hands on his hips. Tim waved him away dismissively, “It's fine, I have Alfred distracting him until tomorrow. Bruce is busy too, so we have the perfect private window to get this done”

Jason looked unconvinced but somewhat appeased. His hands slid lower down on his hips, and he looked down, almost caressing himself. The others watched in concern as he brought one hand up to his chest and drew it up to his collarbone, pale in comparison to his naturally scarred and tanned skin. Zantanna watched him closely, wondering if the plan would backfire far quicker than expected. She’d hoped that the transformation wouldn't prove to be a hindrance because he'd dealt with the pit scratching at his mental walls for so many years already.

Jason slowly looked up with an astonished expression, “Dude,” he breathed at Roy, “I'm smokin'”

Roy did a double-take, realizing Jason wasn't having an out-of-body experience; he was feeling himself up. His jaw dropped in disbelief, “Dude!”

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Wildcat stopped in the doorway, his attention snagged like a stray cat. Renegade stood hunched over the wide vanity dresser in a way that had alarm bells blaring in Wildcat’s head. His shirt was stressed and distorted from the way his shoulder blades and back muscles arched so finely. Wildcat watched him in a partial daze, wondering what had happened to make his team lead look so defeated and exhausted. His head hung long, and his clean, limp locks dangled over his forehead and eyes. Before Wildcat could muster the courage to speak and break the thick silence, a shuddering breath did so for him. Wildcat tensed more severely, more alarmed than confused now. His team lead took another ragged breath, and his supporting elbows trembled. Hoping his in-the-moment plan worked, he whistled sharply.

His catcall caught the attention of his team lead like a lash across the ass. Wildcat leaned immaturely into the doorway as he watched the figure in the vanity mirror look up. Wildcat was unsurprised to see Renegade’s face barren of wetness, but his eyes were still red-rimmed. He wiggled his eyebrows and crossed his arms to lean against the open door frame, “Look at this,” he purred, acting entirely too oblivious to Renegade’s state. 

Dick dropped his head with a sardonic huff and sniffed once, rolling his shoulders in a way that cracked his neck. He opened his eyes again and lifted his head to look at his combat expert in the mirror, “Don’t tell the others you actually snuck up on me. I'll never hear the end of it”

Wildcat snickered, “What's this? My first opportunity at blackmail?”

Dick gave him an amused side eye, the redness already fading slightly, “All I see is someone ditching their rifle training”

Wildcat waved his hand dismissively, “My aim is fine”

Dick gave him a flat look, “You're only on my personal combat team for your combat skills”

Wildcat balked and placed a hand to his chest, “You wound me”

Dick smirked and turned back to the mirror, “Falcon will if you don't finish your drills. You need to stop skipping”

Wildcat hummed nonsensically, “Yea, yea. Anyway…..what’s going on here?”

Dick reached for the edge of the sink and uncapped a small black glass bottle. He tipped some oil into his hands before slapping them together and running his fingers through his hair, slicking his hair back in a suave style. He didn’t reply but turned to the chair beside him and pulled on a dark blue button-up. After, he pulled on a dark blazer to match his pressed pants and oxfords.

Wildcat watched him with slight interest, “Unbutton the top one and lose the blazer. Chicks dig tight shirts” 

Dick almost laughed, “Sorry, as much as I trust your womanizing advice…orders are orders”

Wildcat’s brow bent, “Are you going undercover? Dressed like that?”

Dick looked back at him slightly tensed, “In a sense. She thinks it’s a date”

“And it’s not?”

“....No”

“Richard? Are you re-”

Both young men turned to find Wintergreen standing in the back of the room. Wildcat leaned into the room and noted that there was a door behind the older man.

“Soldier?” Wintergreen’s tone held a level of annoyance. Wildcat jumped and dipped his head, “Sir”

“Don't worry, Will it’s j-”

“I'm entirely aware of who he is,” Wintergreen responded. With his head still dipped, Wildcat suppressed his smirk when he heard, “Don't you roll your eyes at me, child”

“He was just coming to update me on something, cut him some slack, Will”

Wildcat felt a smile tug at his lips over how naturally Dick covered for his team. If any other superior had found him wandering the Colonel’s private halls and skipping training, he’d be skinned instantly. 

“I made it clear when I said I don't want anyone else meandering in these halls while you're still recovering. These are yours and the Commander’s private quarters, not a mingling center”

The same moment Wildcat looked up, wondering what his team leader could be recovering from, Dick responded, “I'm fine, Will. Even Master agrees, or he wouldn't be sending me out”

Wintergreen scoffed, “This can hardly be called a mission after what you have done”

Dick smiled bashfully like it was a compliment and not an admonishment, “It's just a few hours of wining, dining…maybe some shmoozing”

Wintergreen rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “You are in no position to be courting a young woman like her”

Dick’s smile dropped and he turned back to the mirror, “You don't have to remind me, Will. Kind of hard to forget a fact about myself ”

The older man’s eyes softened in response, “You know that’s not what I mean, Richard”

Dick didn't meet his eyes but hummed in a humoring way, “I need to get going. The driver reported being ready nearly 20 minutes ago”

Wintergreen sighed, “Very well. I came to offer a jacket” he raised an arm, which had a dark grey blazer slung over it, “But it seems you’ve already found a perfectly fine substitute”

Dick straightened his collar and spared the man a quick glance, “Thanks anyways Will” The smile didn't meet his eyes. He looked at Wildcat, “Dismissed”

Wildcat nodded and stepped away quickly. He dipped his head to the Major, only to be ignored. The older man was watching Dick tighten his cufflinks, but Wildcat was feeling more like he’d intruded onto something private, even if he’d been present first. As he quickly made his way down the hallway and through the double doors that led to the public portion of their compound, he caught a portion of their conversation: “Slade wants to speak with you before you depart”

“I know what topics to steer clear of, Will. You don't have to sneak another condom into my pocket. Besides, this isn't my first time seeing her”

“Just li-”

The doors closed behind him, cutting off any other noise and opening him up to the steps and noises of surrounding soldiers. They bustled around the base to attend to late-night duties before shuffling off to the barracks for rest. The Colonel had provided exemplary sleeping and eating quarters for the men contracted to him and his private mercenary firm, but at the end of the day, they knew to expect to be treated like the soldiers that they were. Until they proved themselves, or were lucky, like Wildcat had been, and were chosen for higher-ranking positions, then they were undoubtedly expendable. 

Most men and women were dressed similarly to Wildcat in dark cargo pants and fitted compression tops. Some still wore their utility and Kevlar vests while others were dressed down more informally as they finished up their remaining duties for the night. Wildcat, Falcon, and Eerie had slightly altered uniforms to ensure their surrounding teammates and soldiers knew they were outranked. It offered a quick and easy solution in case they were ever without a commanding officer in the field. The general population of men were ordered to refer to Renegade when Slade wasn't present and to Renegade's team without him. The only notable difference, besides shades of darkness, were the straps and symbols on the vests. Renegade had their Kevlar and armor additions outfitted with small, sharp-winged red birds. It reminded them of a dangerous take on the Robin, but they knew better than to comment that out loud. 

Wildcat made his way further down the hall to the gym that Falcon had scheduled for their team’s private time. Eerie was in charge of their firearm target practice each week, while Falcon was usually in charge of reviewing assault theory and field maneuvers for better mental combat. Wildcat hadn’t necessarily held his own training sessions as combat was usually left to Renegade to teach and maintain their team’s standard, but he was quite often used as the goal to beat and overcome in their combat and assault trainings. Dick loved to sick both Eerie and Falcon on Wildcat to see how they could work together and how long Wildcat could evade.

They hadn’t had very many rigorous sparring sessions in a while. Renegade had been too busy between his private sessions with the Colonel, missions, being out of commission, and more. He nodded to a few people as he passed through, acknowledging the difference in rank automatically. He made his way to the indoor gym and found Falcon and Eerie both waiting for him.

“Don't even try,” Falcon hissed at him. Her hands were already placed on her hips, and her eyes looked as sharp and pointed as her hair.

Wildcat stopped, “What?” he exclaimed, “I'm late, so what?”

“You aren't late. You missed the entire thing,” Eerie replied, “Stop skipping or it will become an issue”

Wildcat nodded and made his way closer, “Yea, yea yea. So what’s up with Ren? Why is he going on a date?”

His teammates looked puzzled, “What?”

He nodded, “Yeah, just talked to Ren and he’s all dressed up for some date, but he made it sound like it was an order”

“Who's ordering him to go on a date?” Falcon looked at him in disbelief.

“There's only 1 person who can order Ren around,” he pointed out.

“Exactly”, Eerie cut in calmly, “So I think what's obviously being asked here-is why Renegade has been ordered on a date and with whom?”

Wildcat hated the heat that statement brought to his cheeks, but nodded, “Well, I didn't really get the full story because Major Wintergreen came in and-”

“Wait, wait, wait” Falcon stopped him, “Where were you when you spoke with Ren?”

Wildcat scrambled for a smooth, quick answer but failed. Falcon’s eyes widened before they narrowed horrendously, “You were snooping in the Colonel’s private halls?!”

“No! I-”

“How stupid can you be?!” She slapped her palms to her temples and flattened her short cut hair, “Dammit Wildcat, The Major has never really interfered with us and the one time he gives an executive order to stay out you break it?! It's barely been a month?!”

“That's only because Renegade was hurt and needed to heal. We’d never hurt him, so I don't really see why it's such a big-”

“Wildcat, don't play dumb,” Eerie reprimanded lowly, “No one on this base would ever make a move against Renegade. Not while in their right mind. That doesn't matter, and you know it. The Major has never laid a boundary down with us, and he did so when the Colonel returned with Renegade”

“We don't even know what happened!” Wildcat argued, “The Major gave us coordinates to pick up them up and that's it!” he pointed a hand at the doors as if Renegade stood just behind them, “He was a fucking mess and no one will tell us anything. Renegade tells us everything!

Eerie frowned dangerously, “Which is enough proof to see how bad whatever happened was. Don't push your luck, you know the Colonel has acted against Renegade’s wishes before. If we disappeared and he was ordered to pick a new team, Renegade could do very little about it”

Wildcat frowned, feeling like he was being insulted for not being so welcome to a harsh reality. They stared each other down for a few tense moments before Falcon crossed her arms, “What did you want anyway?”

Wildcat recoiled, “What's the supposed to mean? I was supposed to be here for training anyway”

“Yeah, but you skipped on purpose and only came back when you had gossip”

Wildcat shrugged, “I just wanted to know what Ren was doing. He wouldn't tell me much and dismissed me when the Major showed up”

Eerie looked at him like a pitiful child, “I think it’s clear that no one else knows what the Colonel has him doing. We haven't been called to assist him in a while anyway. Not only is it not our business, but we just don’t know what's going on”

“But this is different. It’s weird, it's not even covert shit” Wildcat argued, “If this was a secret op. He’d be going in with a disguise. He wasn't wearing even one prosthetic. It was like the Colonel literally ordered him to go on a date as himself ”

“Well, what if he did?” Falcon challenged irritably.

“He may be going without a disguise, but he isn't going as himself,” Eerie pointed out, “He can’t be. He is the dead son of a Western billionaire. His face is easily recognizable. He must be using a fake name at the very least”

Falcon’s stern expression lightened slightly, “I mean that’s all the more reason to not use a disguise, right?” Both men looked at her, “If he has a reliable cover story then it’ll only be backed up even more by Richard Grayon’s dead certificate. He can just claim that they look alike and might have similar names. Richard is common enough. It’s like John or Timothy, or William. It’ll be something that people take note of but chalk up as a coincidence”

“Who would ever accuse someone of so bluntly and publicly stealing a dead scion’s name and face?” Eerie stated, doubling down on Falcon's point.

“Exactly,” she said. She looked back at Wildcat, “Look, I know it's been weird without Ren around as much, but this might be our new normal and you have to adjust. You can’t fight the tide”

“Especially if the tide is Deathstroke the Terminator,” Wildcat mumbled dejectedly. Falcon nodded sympathetically. 

“Look, we can try to talk with him at our next team training, ok? It's set for the week after next, and we can just check up on him, ok?”

Eerie chuckled, “Team lead will either spill his guts or shut us down. There's no middle ground with him”

Falcon sighed, “That's all we can do, ok?”

“I hope the Colonel doesn't attend,” Wildcat groaned.

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

While Tim and Zantanna stayed behind, Jason and Roy were teleported to Anastasia's last location. Fortunately, it was just her room. Tim and Zantanna were monitoring their progress and comms to glean any extra information they could while also staying alert and prepared in case they needed a fast evac. Zantanna had assured them that she could retrieve them quickly, as long as they were somewhat close to each other. Pulling 2 people at once from distant locations complicated things vastly.

Tim hoped they would be able to learn a lot from the gossip at this event if Luthor had men like this investing in his covert operations for the Light, especially because it wasn't a Western-advised event. Men like Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne wouldn't be in attendance, so it was safe to assume that most would speak unfettered. 

“We’re good,” Jason spoke over their comms, “We’re gonna start searching her room and looking for evidence”

“Be careful”, Tim replied, “You still have to attend this event tonight and can't be late”

“She's rich,” Jason replied casually. He began to rifle through anything of interest, “She has people to keep her on schedule”

Anastasia’s bedroom was enormous, but that was expected of an only child and heiress. She had an enormous bed with lace drapings and an equally large dress and vanity. Makeup was splayed across the surface, and Jason could feel the amount of face paint coating his own face and lashes. It made him want to dunk his head under a firehose. Roy crossed the room and started to go through the bathroom, “There's a chance this girl is totally clueless,” Roy called.

“Doesn't matter,” Jason said. He hefted up the edge of her mattress looking for anything like papers or a diary, “That's why we gotta get close to Dickhead and her dad tonight”

He spotted something folded and wedged between the bedframe and the mattress on the other side, “Score,” he grinned. He hurried over to the other side, noting how everything was heavily covered in a flowery fragrance. He hefted the mattress up again and pulled the papers loose. It was a thin notebook with pen scrawled over it in Russian, “Fuck” Jason griped. Roy heard him and poked his head out to see what he’d found. He jogged over to peer at the papers, “Well, if this was French, that Ollie would've been right about expanding my horizons”

Jason nodded with a frown, “Only the Demon Brat is fluent in this shit”

Tim chimed in over their comms, “Did you find something?”

Jason rifled through the notebook, “It's a bunch of Russia,n but I can't tell if it’s legit or if it's just a bunch of girly feelings”

He heard Zantanns scoff over their comms, and Roy slapped him over the back of the head. He rolled his eyes, he wasn't used to having a woman over their comms line, and Babs didn't count. Jason often forgot that she was indeed the opposite sex from how closely she’d grown up with the other Robins, fighting and butting heads all the same. Dick knows too many godamn redheads.

“Just send me a picture and put it back,” Tim hissed urgently, “Well, translate later” Jason nodded, forgetting that the others couldn't see him. He retrieved his burner phone from the purse he’d slipped from Ana and started snapping pictures of every page. A knock on the door froze the two friends. Jason looked at Roy with wide eyes. The muscular woman looked back at him and gestured with her  hands as if to say, “Say something, you're the boss!”

“Uh-” Jason cleared his throat, “Yes?” he tried asking in a light tone. Roy gave him a flat look, “You already sound like a girl” he hissed. Jason shrugged defensively and glared. 

“Miss Anatoly?” A voice called back, “Mr. Wilson is at the gates. He’ll be arriving shortly”

Jason and Roy whipped their heads from the door to each other, “Fuck” their expressions said.

Jason tried tempering his tone, “Umm. If this is for the…event tonight, you can tell him that I'm actually alright attending on my own. I can make my own way there” Jason did not want to be alone with Slade Wilson.

“Are you Miss? You seemed so eager to make plans with the young man during your last outing. He even offered not to take you as a show of your …feminist support,” the man’s voice held a slightly disgusted tinge to it. Jason halted in confusion, “Wait, is Slade Wilson at the gates?”

“No, Miss,” the voice chuckled, “The young master, Richard Wilson, is. Your date for tonight”

The door jolted slightly before the handle turned a few times without budging, “Miss Anatoly? Are you feeling quite well?”

Jason’s heart was pounding in his chest, “Uhh yes! Sorry I-um I’m still getting changed and-” he shot Roy a desperate look only for the same look to be reflected back at him, “Powerding my nose?”

“Very well, Miss. I just wanted to inform you that your date should be arriving soon. I will let him in and have him wait in the foyer. Please call if you need anything”

“Alright!” Jason called. He didn't want to be too polite and risk suspicion among the help in case Anatsaia Anatoly turned out to be a bitch behind the scenes. They waited and listened to the soft footsteps fade away on the velvet carpet.

He turned to Roy, “Dick is picking her-me up”

“And he's using Wilson’s name,” Roy added, his voice tight.

“This is exactly what I said was happening!” Tim all but shouted in their ears, “Slade is using Dick’s civilian presence. He’s giving him a new face to act in public. He could have a new birth certificate for all we know. The implications of this are awful for Dick's public appearance”

“Check for a Richard Wilson when we get back,” Jason barked back.

“Ok, fuck, we got like 5 minutes” Roy ran a hand through his hair, cringing when he felt the oily flatness of Yelena’s hair. He looked at Jason, “You ready? You can’t be a bitch about this,” he warned.

Jason gapped, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You're a girl too!” he shoved at Roy’s shoulders.

Roy glared, “That's not what I meant, idiot. You gotta play the part. Like if Dick puts his arm around you, you can't get all squeamish. Follow his lead, he's not gonna force you to do anything you won't like, but his actions will tell you how …close you guys are,” he said with a slight wince.

Jason crinkled his nose but nodded, “Right, Dick can be an asshole but there are some things he’d never- forget it. I got it” he frowned, “What if he tries to kiss me?”

Roy rolled his eyes, “Make it a cheek kiss or something. Act bashful. I dunno. Play the part”

Jason grumbled, “Should've made West do this shit instead”

Roy frowned and waved a hand at him, “Dude, seriously. Get ready or something. Look at your face, find better heels. Hurry!”

Jason forced out a breath, willing all his anxiety out with his next inhale. He nodded and rushed to the closest, finding short black heels immediately. He struggled to put them on before rushing to the mirror in front of the vanity. He tried smoothing the frizzy hair on Anna’s scalp before throwing on some more deodorant, the fragrance tickling his nose. He threw his burner to Roy, “Keep it for me. I can't have anyone finding a burner or back-up comms”

He went for the door, confident in his appearance, when he realized Roy had hung back. He turned to see Roy looking at him with a weary expression, “What?” he snapped in a whisper.

“Dude”, Roy gestured to where Jason held the purse straps bunched together in his fist, “This mission is gonna bomb”

Jason frowned and pulled the straps taut to release the bunching in the leather. He shot one last look at Roy before swinging it up on his shoulder to wear it properly. Roy rolled his eyes before finally joining him at the double doors. Jason pushed them open slightly. He did his best to move slowly and calmly under the disguise of being an entitled heiress who ran things on her own time, but he really just wanted the chance to really look at everything.

The carpets were just as soft and velvety-looking. The walls were varying shades of white and tan with crown molding twice as big as Wayne Manor’s. Every corner of the household hosted a nonessential item like a glass ashtray or an expensive-looking vase. The house was a combination of modern Roman with Russian influences. Large floor-to-ceiling pillars stood at the start and the floor of the wide staircase, shouldering the doors further down as well. Along the walls hung hand-painted portraits of landscapes and people that looked too Russian for him not to make a joke. Large, big-boned women and men glared down at them.

When there wasn't too much to see from the top landing of the stairs, Jason made his way forward, determined not to stumble in the shorter heels. He could already feel the blunt pressure eating away at the bottom of his heel and squeezing the life out of his pinkie toe. They were only halfway down the stairs when movement to the left caught his attention. Jason nearly slipped and tumbled down the stairs at the sight of Dick. He was dressed in an expensive-looking button-up that reflected the foyer lights, with slacks, and was leaning against a small waist-height table in what Jason assumed was the foyer. A black jacket was thrown over a chair close by, and his hair was slicked back in a manner that was all familiar to 14-year-old Jason. 

He remembered Dick always complaining about the amount of hair gel needed to slick his hair back for galas and events, “It makes my hair crunchy” he complained while Jason watched from behind. Dick turned his head slightly to peer up at her with a slightly startled expression. It gave way to a charming smile that Jason knew worked wonders on the female population. It was a pick-up move he’d taught all his brothers. “Act like they surprised you, and then act happy it was them and not someone else. Flattery goes a long way”

“Ana” Dick greeted with a slight dip to his head. Behind, Jason could spot a still-smoldering cigarette butt in a glass tray. Dick always used to shame Alfred for smoking, guilting their grandfather and housekeeper into stopping so he didn't die before Damian graduated High School. He resisted the urge to give Dick a look, knowing that this was just more proof as to how much time Dick had spent with Deathstroke.

“Richard”, Jason purred, hoping he came off as coy instead of uncertain. Dick tsked playfully, “I told you to call me Dick”

Jason only smiled in return. His brother’s face was clear of the blood and black veins that had accosted him the last time they’d seen him. He looked relatively well and healthy. Dick’s eyes jumped to just over Jason’s shoulder, “Yelena” he greeted in a tight tone, I wonder if Anna’s security has caught on to Dick and Deathstroke.

Roy grunted in reply but didn't respond. Dick smirked and pushed off from where he’d been leaning to make his way over to the foot of the staircase. Jason came to meet him and nearly made a face at how tall Dick was. Is this what everyone else sees?

Dick towered over her by nearly a foot, suddenly making Jason regret wearing shorter heels. He leaned down and smiled demurely, reaching for Jason’s hand to place a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, “You look lovely,” he murmured against his skin. Jason felt his cheeks heat at the first glimpse of how Dick spoke to his dates, No wonder Babs hated him for dating after her.

“Thank you” Jason replied stiffly, “You as well” he never thought he’d actually have to use any of the high society uppity verbiage Alfred drilled into their heads as kids. 

“So shall we go?” Dick grinned and offered his elbow. Jason paused, “Uh, of course” he offered his own hand, noting how much softer and daintier his skin and fingers looked in Dick’s hand, “Have you spoken with my d-father?”

Dick looked at her and cocked his head with a slightly confused smile, “Was I supposed to?”

Jason jerked, scolding himself, “Uh no. I just wanted to ask since I hadn't”

Dick shrugged in a way that still came off far too regal and polite for Jason’s tastes, “Sorry I'm no help. Mr. Wilson only told me that I could pick you up if I wanted. He and your dad are already on their way”

Jason nodded, “Ok”

From the corner of his vision, he saw Roy scowl at her casual verbiage. Dick smiled and nodded, “Yea that was why I asked if you wanted to meet me there or have me pick you up?”

Jason jumped at the opportunity to cement his cover as Anastasia, “I thought that was to humor my delicate feminist senses?” referring back to the help's words. All the old men around her must view her feminist ideologies as a phase. 

Dick’s cheeks heated and he grinned bashfully. He rubbed the nape of his neck, “For the record, I never used those exact words. And to be fair, I've had very independent, strong girlfriends in the past who still put me in the dog house for not being too chivalry, not chivalrous enough?” Dick paused, wondering how to conjugate chivalry for his specific intentions. Jason smiled and laughed, nearly expecting him to start butchering words and throwing out anti-chauvinist, “Well then, let’s go. It's getting late”

Dick nodded before pausing. He leaned down and whispered in Jason’s ear, raising goosebumps with the hot breath, “Is Yelena coming?”

Jason clenched the fist not in Dick’s grip and resisted the urge to shove his brother away, “Yes” was all he said.

Dick grinned and tried again, “Sorry I meant, does she have to?”

Jason offered him a single brow in response, “Yes,” he repeated in the same haughty tone.

Chapter 43

Notes:

hey there! sadly girly jay and roy have come to an end.

After a few more words, Dick, Jason, and Roy departed the manor. Jason tried his best not to look around too much or gawk at the gaudy 5-story mansion. Anastasia wouldn't look back at her own residence if she lived there. As much as Jason despised Bruce and his privilege, he would be the first one to say that Bruce’s family legacy had built Wayne Manor with taste. Anatoly’s residence was nothing but flashy money thrown at architecture. Dick led them down the overly large roundabout driveway. There were already dozens of vehicles parked on the polished rock and gravel driveway. An assortment of Bentleys, Ferraris, and motorcycles sat polished and idle. A black Bugatti sat in the center with its headlights still on.

Dick opened the passenger door for Jason and offered his hand, “Don't worry” he winked, “I remembered to turn on the seat heaters this time”

Jason smiled at Dick’s attempts to boast and offered his hand. He was starting to feel less alien in Anastaia’s skin the more he moved. Feeling less off-center every time he had to look up at Dick or less put off every time someone made a chivalrous polite gesture to him merely because he was a woman. He placed his hand in Dick’s and nearly stumbled as a tidal wave of distortion shook his vision. One blink turned into half a world of tilting blackness. He gripped Dick’s hand tighter as he fought for balance. He tried blinking the black spots away, when suddenly, he wasn’t looking down at expensive brown leather seats; he was in a hallway.

Jason stumbled and whipped around, looking up and behind himself, completely bewildered. Did Zantanna just teleport me somewhere?

Silence greeted him for a moment, and Jason stood dumbfounded. Before he could think to reach for a phone or call out for Roy, a strange, muffled sound drew his attention. That’s right. As if in a moment of forgetfulness, she remembered how she had asked Richard for his room number so she could visit him tonight. She had oiled her hair and put on some exceptionally nice perfume beneath her lacy dress. Dick had told her not to stop by tonight because he would most likely be busy with some assignments from Mr. Wilson, but she thought he was just being nice. Richard was always so considerate and probably thought she would feel neglected, “I'll only stop by long enough for him to release some of that stress,” she told herself. What boy would turn down a late-night visit from a girl like her?

She, her father, Mr. Wilson, Dick, and a few other business assocoiates were all staying at the same hotel for the night. They were attending something with Lex Luthor and another man the following morning, but her father had insisted on speaking beforehand about some private transaction that he and Mr. Wilson were cementing. She had her own room but had sent off Yelena and Aley for the time being, promising that she wouldn't leave the top suite floor. She made her way down until she found Richard’s room number, only a few steps from where she'd been idling in the hallway. 

She was about to knock when a strange sound met her ears. She paused and frowned, unsure if that was a painful moan or something else. Maybe the TV was on in his room. She listened again for a moment, but instead heard a low rhythmic thumping sound, as if something was shoving the edge of a table into the wall. Curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself pausing quietly. She held her breath and listened for more, curious as to what he was doing. She was so certain that she could figure out what he was doing if only she heard a little more. Maybe he was very particular and was rearranging some of the furniture in his room? A breathy moan met her ear against the door, and Anastaia pulled away as if electrocuted. She stared at the door with wide eyes, wondering what else could have been. That was an entirely sexual sound, but she knew Richard was alone; at the very least, he had no other female companion with him. She looked up and down the hallway, nearly expecting others to poke their head out.

She paused, feeling her heart thump painfully loud as she held her breath a moment too long, desperate to hear more. Had Richard welcomed a servant into his rooms? Was he that desperate for companionship? Why had he told her not to come if that was the case? Confusion and disgust started to tickle her insides like worms. Following that was a deep guttural moan that tapered off into silence. Anastaia was even more confused. Were there more than 2 people inside Richard’s room? Total bewilderment was taking precedence over her assumed offense at Richard's slight.

A sudden surge of confidence motivated her wrist to raise and knock before she could stop herself. The quietness of the hallway suddenly felt incredibly loud as all rustling and voices stopped on the other side of the door. Doubt was all she felt for a few moments.

“Richard?” She hoped her voice didn't waver. There were more sounds of rustling and even the sound of something sharp, almost metallic? Anastaia doubted her own ears for a moment. Maybe she had the wrong room. She was shocked when the door suddenly swung open to reveal Slade Wilson, “Mr. Wilson,” she gasped. She clutched her robe tighter at her chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious of the intentions that lay under.

“Miss Anatoly,” The bear of a man replied cooly. She did her best to maintain eye contact, but it was rather hard when his chest was bare and glistening. What kind of man answered the door when he was in such a state ? If she were older, she would have been admonishing the man. He was only clad in sweats, and she was suddenly much more aware of his single dark eyepatch. Her father had told her that he served in the American military, and it was a gruesome wound from when he was stationed overseas for one of their wars. She knew he was a large man from their previous meetings. He towered over every person he met and wore obvious veins along his forearms and the backs of his hands, insinuating the strength of his body. But before now, she’d never really wondered how muscular or toned he was, and seeing the concrete proof was a little more intimidating than arousing if she were honest. He exuded power and not in a warm, welcoming way like Richard. 

She realized she was staring and jerked her gaze away for a moment, “Um-I beg your pardon. I was looking for Richard” Her gaze wandered past his figure into the room, but it was too dark to see, “I was under the assumption this was his room”

“I see,” Mr. Wilson purred, “What is so dire to need my student so late at night? Is anything amiss with your security?”

She blushed in response, “No, I-forgive me. I merely wanted to return something of his and just realized that I still had it, just now that is”

Slade nodded, “I see”

Was he an overly blunt man, or was he not going to address her question?

Her blush deepened and felt like a sunburn when she realized that she didn't have anything but her robe and keycard, “I- am just realizing I forgot that though…the jacket”

The large white-haired man nodded, and she couldn't refuse how childish she must look to the man, “It's quite alright. Our mind is not often at its peak at 12:34 am”

There was no doubt in her mind that he was making fun of her now, “Yes, well, I apologize for the interruption. I’ll make sure to get the correct room number from Richard tomorrow”

Slade nodded, a slight smirk to his lips, “No need to trouble yourself. I believe you and Richard have a scheduled brunch tomorrow morning?”

She stuttered, unable to believe how much of a fool she was making herself out to be, “Of course, while you and my father meet with Mr. Luthor. Right, I will speak to him then”

Slade nodded slowly, and Anastasia realized she wasn't sure if he had blinked at all since he opened the door. The thought made her feel like prey and she hated it, “No need to worry, I merely meant that you and Richard are scheduled for a brief luncheon tomorrow before we depart”

Anastaia made an “Oh” expression. The taller man nodded, “Richard and I will be departing for a separate job early tomorrow evening”

Annastai nodded, falling silent, “Well I-” She glanced back down the hallway, “I should let you get back to your night. Apologies for the intrusion”

She took a step back before Mr. Wilson spoke, “Ana?”

She glanced back quickly, caught off guard at the lighter tone in which he spoke. For a second, it didn't sound like Mr. Wilson at all. His tone was far too welcoming, and young. She looked up to find Dick holding the car door in place of Mr. Wilson. Their positions mirrored each other almost symmetrically in her mind, but they could not have looked more different. Dick spoke again, his brow furrowed, “Ana?”

Jason jerked, feeling like a hot flash had come over him, starting from his head and ending in a frigid chill in his toes. He jolted before looking back up to Dick and realization of what had just happened stunned him into silence, “I-” he cleared his throat, “I'm fine”

Dick watched him in a way that made him feel like Jason more than Anastasia, “You sure?”

Jason nodded and scowled, “If I said I'm fine, then I'm fine” he plopped himself down into the low passenger seat and crossed his arms. Dick still watched him with soft attentiveness before he sighed, “Alright, but let me know if we should head back early”

Soon enough, they were all piled into the low rumbling sleek car and were off. Dick drove well and allowed Jason to sit in silence. He couldn't stop mulling over what he’d seen. It had been like experiencing something in VR, like a story that he’d figured out before the author actually wanted him to. Obviously, the girl he was impersonating was a sheltered idiot because she actually believed that she had knocked on Wilson’s door, but Jason’s gut churned horribly over what she had heard and convinced herself wasn't plausible. At least he remembered feeling some doubt over the type of sounds she’d heard, but the stupid girl had merely been too embarrassed to realize the gravity and reality of what she’d stumbled her way into.

Just remembering that brief muffled grunts caused goosebumps to cascade down his arms. Disgust rolled his stomach over how t-, NO, Jason nearly barked at himself internally, Just don't think bout it. That's an issue for a later time. Dickie made his bed, now h- He cut the thought off and turned up the ac slightly.

____________________________________________________________________________________

When they arrived Jason apologized to Dick and made a vegue reference to being on his period. Dick’s face lit up and he caught on quickly, “I got it. You don't have to apologize. I know a girl who gets super strength and super attitude on her…week”

Jason smiled but over his shoulder, he could see Roy wondering the same thing, Was Dick talking about Babs or Arty?

He and Roy excused themselves to the washroom while Dick went to find Wilson and Ana’s dad. He nearly ripped Roy’s suit, jerking him back from entering the men’s bathroom. They slowly entered the women’s bathroom and looked around to make sure they were alone before speaking, “Dude,” Roy leaned in, “What was that? You froze for like 20 seconds?”

Jason scoffed, “That's it?”

Roy watched him with a troubled expression. Jason sighed, “I-I just got a memory from this chick. Something she saw about Dick”

Roy’s brow broke, “It was that bad?”

Jason didn't try to hide it, “I'll tell you about it later, seriously, but it'll only be a distraction for us now. Just be careful. These fucking memory meld things feel legit. I-” Jason struggled to explain, “It felt natural. It's so weird, like not having hair on my fuking legs and wearing a tight-ass bra, it felt normal, I didn't know my name was Jason -”

Roy clapped him on the shoulder, “I get it. I'll be careful, but let us know how you're doing, ok?”

Us, Jason remembered that Tim and Zantanna were listening in. He was grateful that they had the common sense not to start talking to him through his comm the moment things went south. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. He chuckled, “These periods are such a good scapegoat, dude”

Roy scowled, “This is why Wally got a girlfriend before you”

By the time Jason composed himself, Dick was waiting in the hall outside of the bathrooms. He grinned at them when they exited, “Sorry,” he held up his hands quickly, “I'm not trying to perv, just wanna make sure you were ok”

Despite the anxiety gnawing at his chest, Jason forced a smile, “I'm fine, thanks”

Dick offered his elbow again, “Let's you get some champagne and a chair” his face turned slightly apologetic, “But we might have to stop by for a quick face-to-face with your dad”

Jason rolled his eyes like it was an inconvenience, “Let's get this over with”

Dick ignored Roy and escorted them back down the hallway and through the ballroom, giving Jason a better chance to really look around. It reminded him of the kind of events Bruce and Alfred forced him and Dick to attend as kids, but different. Everything glittered with the same expansiveness, and certain areas were filled with the same high-society laugh, but there were a few things that Jason found himself taking a second glance at as they passed. Political ice sculptures in place of swans. Martini glasses in place of champagne flutes. Weird baked finger foods with dark sauces replaced the little caviar dips and finger food offerings. Even the music sounded distinctly different. Jason knew he wasn't the only one, every chance he got to turn his head in a non-suspicious manner, he found Roy gazing at the same things. 

Jason was fortunate to have Roy around, and not just for the meeting. Roy offered Jason everything that Dick couldn't at times. He was an older brother to both Robins, but his character seemed to idle along the darker tendencies like Jason’s did. Although Jason's background was from a rougher, less financially suited one, similar to Dick, Roy and Jason grew to havesimilarr outlooks on lavish lifestyles and billionaires. Even though they still relied on that same trust fund money to pay their phone bills every month. Roy and Dick were friends even before Dick and Roy were initiated into the world as sidekicks. Bruce was desperate to find a kid that could help Dick connect with his new lifestyle and Oliver was already a long-term business partner, not to mention their close relationship stemming from Green Arrow and Batman. By the time Jason had been adopted, Dick and Roy were as thick as thieves, bonding as rich wards, along with Wally, but the high society game was a lifestyle that Wally would never really understand. 

The ballroom of the hotel around them was grand and enormous. The second story encircled their heads in a way that allowed people to peer over gold vine railings down to the first floor. Countless amounts of chandeliers hung over their heads, and the wallpaper, already gold, was lit up even more by the bright circling lights. The partygoers were, as Jason expected, dressed in all sorts of slinky silks and glittering lace. The men varied as much as possible with blues and darks, but the conservative environment allowed much less than back home. Jason withheld a smirk over remembering one time when Dick attended Bruce’s charity fundraiser for homleness aid in a bright purple suit. He was the talk of the night for all of 30 minutes, people looking past the jubilant young man.

A large bar was situated across the left side of the wall, and besides that, a 5-person violin ensemble played orchestra music. Jason spotted Deathstroke instantly. The white-haired man towered over everyone in a way that drew looks. The men looked on in envy while female gazes seemed to linger a half-second too long. Beside him, holding a short beer, stood Anatoly. The two men were dressed fittingly in black, their wrists and fingers adorned with too many watches and rings to be necessary. Slade turned to Dick, and Anatoly looked over his shoulder, “Ahh my Doshka!” Anatoly stepped up to Jason, and Jason nearly stepped away. He forced himself to welcome the embrace of the stout man, noting how the hug felt familiar. The way the man wrapped his arms over his shoulders instead of around his waist brought a sense of déjà vu.  

Jason smiled and hoped he wasn't expected to say something back in Russian, “Father,” he said with a full grin. He looked at Deathstroke and dipped his head, hoping that was polite enough. The taller man raised his glass slightly and tipped his chin back. Roy was ignored, but Jason was glad that neither of them was being put under the spotlight. From his periphery, he saw Slade clasp Dick’s shoulder and thumb the back of his neck in slow swipes.

“-Ana?”

Jason jerked and cursed himself, “Sorry?”

Anatoly smiled, “I was just asking how you are feeling. Richard said you were in the bathroom after arriving”

Beside her-his dad. Jason spotted Dick’s apolegetic smile. Jason nodded, “I'm fine, just an upset stomach”

Anatoly nodded, “Ahhh, yes, well we can solve that easily,” he plucked a glass off a passing tray and handed it to him, “Here”

An annoyance that had some real fire behind it startled Jason. She must not like her dad.

Realizing that he must have a habit of forcing things on his daughter, like a boyfriend, Jason accepted the glass. He took a sip to appease the men around her-him before they looked away and picked up their conversation. Dick turned to him, most likely appeased with their proof of attendance when he stopped. Jason caught the way Dick and Deathstroke made eye contact before Dick leaned into Jason's ear, “Sorry, I actually have to stay for a moment longer to discuss something. I'll find you later, ok?”

Jason smiled, acting like he hadn't caught the switch in his expression, “Of course. I'll make my rounds and see you later”

Dick smiled a little lighter, glad not to have upset his date and Jason felt his insides twist. He hoped it was because he was making things easier on his brother and not the girl’s feelings because he hated to imagine he’d just experienced what crushing on his big brother felt like , fucking gross.

Jason left Dick, Wilson, and Anatoly and made his way deeper into the crowd, feeling Roy move to move silently. They meandered around under the excuse of making their rounds, but Jason was really looking for a corner far enough away and less populated. Right before them was the beginning of the roundabout staircase, Jason felt like there were few enough sober people to speak. “So what now?” Roy whispered. He kept his head facing forward from where he towered over Jason’s petite figure. Jason resisted the urge to scowl and snap, “How should I know? I don't even speak Russian, it's gonna be harder to eavesdrop than I thought”

“So we walk around and hope we catch some English or we walk back to those assholes and hope they don't realize how close we are” Roy didn't sound any happier. 

“That's all you can do,” Tim said in their ears, “We knew this might have been a waste of time, but it's working so far, so you need to make it as worthwhile as you can while you're still in there. I can try to help with some Russian but your accent is gonna be shit. The moment Zantanna pulls you, our chances of catching some good intel are over. No one is speaking inhibitedly here, guys. They're all the same rich jerks from the same circles”

“All investing in the same stuff,” Roy murmured. “Yep,” Tim said before cutting their connection again. 

Jason looked at Roy, “You good?”

Roy looked troubled before replying, “I feel weird but..I guess, yea…You?”

Jason nodded, “Same, I guess. I'm feeling weird. Like when that Russian pig hugged me, I-...just same, I guess”

Roy nodded, “Well, let's go mingle…Mis,s” he added teasingly. Jason and Roy made their way throughout, finding a handful of people who spoke English, French, or Chinese. Jason hated how much Bruce’s lectures on education proved to be true over and over again. Bruce made them all take French in school at Gotham Prep, and he taught them common languages at home. Jason remembered one week when Bruce forced Jason to communicate entirely in German, forcing him to be fluent enough to function well in the field alongside Batman. It was worth it to see the faces of crooks when they were taken down by a German Batman, though. Some thought he’d lost it or was speaking Pig Latin. 

They found themselves in the center of the crowd when someone caught Jason’s eye. He halted mid-stride, and the movement caught the person’s attention as well. Lydia Ryland turned to greet Jason with a full face of cakey makeup, “Ana, my dear,” she purred. Jason clenched his fists instead of spitting the remark that was plastered inside his head, “Hello,” he replied. he did his best to accent the e in hello like a Russian would.

She tsked, “Always so polite, come now, my dear. We’re far past that, don’t you think? Please, Lydia”

Jason smiled slightly before it fell, “Lydia”, he agreed, “How are you?”

The older woman smiled in a way that made Jason realize she had no crow's feet or smile lines, “Good, good. And how about yourself?”

Jason nodded, “I've been good. I'm here with my father and date” he turned further into the crowd as if he could point to the 3 men. Lydia nodded, “Yes, I believe I saw your father and his associates earlier” Her face, as tight as it already was, became rigid and strained, “I wasn't aware that Slade Wilson had a son ”

Jason resisted the urge to smirk, realizing she was uncomfortable with Dick being close by. He wondered if his brother even knew an Owl was within walking distance-killing distance to him. Jason could only imagine how haunted the woman was by Dick’s attempt on her life. Since then, she’d been hiding in plain sight and using the public as a shield while her fellow owls disappeared one by one. Jason would have to double-check with Tim but he was pretty sure Dick had taken out nearly the entire Court at this point. The woman was living on borrowed time, and Red Hood, hidden under two layers of faces at the moment, was gleeful over the thought.

“I don't think he’s his son,” Jason explained, “I was under the impression he was his... student or sorts? I'm not entirely sure, but I don't want to speak for them”

Lydia nodded, her dyed curls bobbing with her, “Of course, always so cautious and careful child. I like that about you. The brash do not make it long in this world, women less so”

Jason took his opportunity, “Are you here with anyone tonight? I don't mean to imply anything, but I wasn't expecting you here”

Lydia nodded and looked around, “Let's just say I've been in the market for a few things and was hoping to run into Lex Luthor to speak more about it. He’s been working with the market much more these days”

She wants to jump on those fucking chips like it's a Toyota investment and not fucking mind control.

“Oh”, Jason looked around, “I didn't realize Mr. Luthor would be attending tonight”

Lydia waved her hand, “No, not tonight, but I was hoping he would…stop by,” she said in a rich tone, superior and confident in her actions, but Jason knew….he’d seen people with pennies to their names acting the same way and being called deranged for it…stalkers. But Jason looked at the woman in front of him and felt the same level of disgust he did when filthy drug-addled peddlers who came searching for the Red Hood, desperate for a loan or a job, something to give them that step up they thought they needed in life. Red Hood usually hired the kids because he could acknowledge how much of a byproduct they were of their shitty environment…Gotham was an awful mother. But the older men that came to him, reeking of alcohol and ill-reliance, well, Jason gave them a bullet in the head if he was feeling generous. Men like that didn't change. They only got worse with age, like poorly barrelled wine. He and his boys had started calling those old suckers bad jugs in response to their inside joke.

“I'm making my rounds, but I'm on my way to speak with my date and my father right now. Do you want to join me? It'd be an easy segue to conversation with them”

Jason nearly felt Roy’s stare into the back of his head and knew his claims of reading classic novels wouldn't be believable anymore. Jason was good but knew that using the word segue would clue in the redhead. 

A smile so superficial, it brought unease to Jason, made its way to Ryland’s face, “That's quite alright. I don't wish to intrude”

Then why the hell did you just admit to coming to fucking Eastern Europe to stalk Luthor? Jason thought. The lie was obvious to both parties. Jason smiled, but all further questions asking after Luthor or Ryland’s interest in market products were answered with vague placations. Either the woman was doing her best to cover her tracks, or she thought Anastasia was dumber than she let on. Probably both,  Jason thought in irritation. 

Jason managed to force a sentence or two until he could politely walk away. He couldn't remember the amount of times Bruce had signaled for Jason and Dick to come bother him in the midst of an awful conversation. When Jason convinced Dick that they needed to request payment for every awkward conversation exit they got Bruce, he just started asking Tim instead. Jason and Roy walked back to the others, and Jason wished that Tim would break comm silence and say something to ease the jitters building in his annoyingly manicured fingers. He knew that it was dangerous for Roy to speak to him too much, as it was. Security and the help didn't converse with their superior, especially in high society like this. Many people scoffed at Bruce when they realized that the butler was helping with single playboy billionaire function as a dad to an immigrant boy.

Dick spied them from his periphery and beamed a bright smile. He turned to greet the pair and bent down to offer a peck on Jason’s cheek. Another set of lips met his other cheek in a ghost-like touch, and Jason had to dig his nails into his palms to refrain from jerking away. Great now she’s remembering Dick kissing her. Jason smiled and mouthed, Hi . Dick smiled, “You didn't miss much” he consoled, “Pretty boring work talk. I feel like an administrative assistant honestly”

Jason smiled but it twitched away uncomfortably when a sudden thought slammed to the forefront of his mind: how easily Dick could kill so many in the room. They had no idea how much more at risk their existence became just by attending this event and standing close to his brother. Jason liked to think along the same lines as Red Hood when he was first getting started. It reminded him how much power he had and it made him feel leagues better when he had to meet with Sionis or other large-scale criminals.

Jason could feel Slade’s eye on them, but he didn't make eye contact, hoping to play into the oblivious young girl act. Anatoly paid his daughter no attention when she returned and politely sipped a glass of something from the sidelines.

“I like these ideas of yours very much, Wilson. How can you ensure such a timeline? This expansion is ambitious and costly”

Slade sipped his wine as he gazed around at the mingling and slow dancing, “I can ensure that because my organization is already set up to handle such a movement of deliverables. Yours would merely extend ETAs by a few days, give or take a week if they are being moved across international waters”

Anatoly watched Slade dubiously, “Your men are already stationed at those points? And there are enough of them to move the shipments without gaining the attention of local authorities?”

Slade pinned him with a slow, bored look, “You came to me because of my well-established network. I didn't think it’d take this much reiteration to convince you that my organization, both above and below authority guidelines, is capable of much more than smuggling”

Slade spoke lowly, and his features barely twitched. If his mouth was hidden by a glass that wasn't through, Jason would've believed the man wasn't speaking at all. Dick smiled at Slade’s side, “I can attest to the timeline, Mr. Anatoly. If we do any business overseas, we will have to request at least a month to find out what a realistic medium would be for those shipments, as Western standards and law enforcement checks are much more stringent. On top of that, we’ll only be able to promise this in a contractual tender because the politics of America and Canada tend to change quite drastically with every presidential election. The trickle-down effects aren't immediate,e but they do hold solid for about 4 to 5 years, the year after elections”

Jason narrowed his eyes, God damn golden boy , he scoffed mentally, Ever the negotiator and peacemaker.

Anatoly nodded, “I don't see why a trial run wouldn't be appropriate for Europe and North America”

Slade didn't reply. Dick smiled, “Depending on the size and delicacy of the shipment rates may vary of course. And if there are any special shipments with expedited ETAs”

Anatoly waved his hand, “Of course,” like they were discussing a new FedEx ground contractor agreement. Jason looked around while he sipped, making sure to check on Roy, who had followed him silently all night. The hotel lobby was more packed than when they arrived, but Jason wasn’t sure if this was normal. Then again, he had called BS on Tim when he said Spanish people actually take sietas. The blue-eyed boy loved to remind Jason's lack of cultural knowledge. 

He turned back to the conversation, “With the exception of a blackout period in January” Slade stated, “I've got a high-profile client that I've been working with for a while now, and their contract comes to a close around then I'm guessing that the whole month may be a blackout period”

Anatoly nodded, “No worries, a delay in shipments should be manageable if some extras are tacked on before and after this blackout period of yours”

Slade nodded with a non-negotiable look. Jason tried not to whip in Roy’s direction. He turned slowly and surveilled the room again, casually making eye contact with Roy. He found the disguised archer already staring him down. They had both assumed the same thing then, Something big was happening with the Light then. Maybe their big play with those chips was set to be in January.

We've got less than a year, fuck , Jason realized. He was glad Tim didn't speak up then, but he could only imagine what the kid was thinking. He was glad to have the note-taker on standby and listening to everything. This added up with what Slade had claimed previously, at least . The mercenary had stated that he had estimated at least a year before the Light moved to fire Slade and make their move when they had last spoken. But apparently, the man wasn’t sharing all the news and updates he gleaned from the Light like he’d promised to do way back when they made their tentative agreement. 

Dick leaned back down to Jason’s ear, “Did you see anyone you knew?”

The air left his lungs and was replaced with a frigid chill, Was Dickie watching us? “Yes,” he simply replied.

Dick cocked his head slightly, “No one note worthy?”

Jason nearly faltered in his calm expression, “I know plenty of people here. More than you, I bet, so I'm not sure what your meaning is by noteworthy”

Dick smiled like there wasn't suddenly tension in the air. “Just curious,” he replied. Jason hated the way his stomach churned like it was a disappointed Alfred looking down at him. He blamed it on the girl’s emotions bubbling up every time Dick smiled or touched him. He knew his brother was a people pleaser, but he never considered that he was able to invoke that same reaction in others. Dick wasn’t an idiot though. He knew who Jason had spoken to and was only trying to discern the gravity of their relationship. Jason almost wanted to shove his brother and egg him on until he lost his shit. Until he lost that cool, calm facade and let loose the hurt and anger that was stored in every digit, overseeing Ryland so close and well, and not being able to do anything about it. Deathstroke probably had his hands tied for whatever job he wanted to cement with Anatoly. It was almost funny when you took a step back and realized that Dick and Ryland were so close and very aware of everything but could not do much more than stay away from each other.

Knowing he’d get shit for it, and give shit if he were in Dick’s place, Jason looked at her-his date, “I'm actually not feeling as well as I’d hoped”

Dick’s face was awash with concern in seconds, “Is there anything I can do? Do we need to revisit the bathr-powder room?”

Jason nearly scowled at the implication that he would feel better being hand-walked to the bathroom, “No! No, I-uh I mean I think I'm just ready to go home now”

He felt Roy stiffen beside him and knew Tim was making faces over the com line. Dick nodded, “Of course”

He turned to Slade and Anatoly to smoothly interrupt their conversation, “I'm sorry to cut my participation short, but I'll be escorting my date back home”

It wasn't posed as a question but Jason and Roy didn't miss the way Dick waited for both men to nod.

____________________________________________________________________________________

It didn't take long for Dick to take the pair of women home, although Dick continued ignoring Yele-Roy. Jason was trying his best to game plan in his head while still holding a conversation with Dick. He needed to keep Dick distracted but not too long or his cover might slip, but if he let Dick go back too early he might find an opportunity to kill and corner Ryland, but if he held his date-brother for too long Dick might actually get the wrong idea from a girl delaying his exit. At the very least, Jason wanted to separate his brother from one of his kidnappers. Dick might not thank him for it, but Jason knew that distance always lessened that kind of trauma. Being with his brothers helped get his mind off Black Mask, and being with his crew helped get his mind off the Dark Knight.

Despite Dick’s casual tone, Jason easily spotted the death grip he had on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white and clenched. They arrived sooner than Jason had hoped but before he had the chance to ask Dick up and find a way to prolong him at the big-ass mansion at his back, Dick spoiled his plan. He opened the door for Jason and helped him out, “I'm sorry you aren't feeling well tonight, but I think we both knew this wouldn't be as fun as Paris”

She smiled, gazing at Richard while he waved a waiter down in a way that was both polite and so effortlessly suave. His hair was damp and tussled from the humid Paris heat, but Anastaia could admit that it wasn't a turn-off. He was the kind of well-together kept person who never smelled too much or suffered from IBS or anything that would be both a possible turn-off and a totally human thing to suffer from. It was incredibly intimidating and hot to her. The waiter stopped, and she waited with a pleased smile as he ordered her another coffee and a quiche for himself. He looked back at her for approval before he sent the waiter away.

God, if we weren't in public right now…

Dick uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, offering her his full attention again, “So” he stated with a grin, “I know today has a been a bit stereotypical with all the touristy places but I think I have the perfect place to show you before we have to head out”

She pouted, “Do you need to go already?” she complained, “I've quite enjoyed myself. Father can wait all he likes”

Dick smiled and cocked his head, “I wish” he chuckled, “But I can’t keep my own teacher waiting”

She placed her chin in her palm, “I know he isn't your father, but I've never seen a work relationship like yours,” she admitted.

Dick shrugged, “It’s probably because he knew me growing up. It's not like we were strangers when he brought me on to his company”

She nodded, “I knew it!” She wagged a playful finger a him, “I'm great at picking up on these things”

He grinned, “While I love your social skills, I'm afraid I will have to get going soon”

“Ana?”

Jason jolted and looked up. In one blink, the bright Paris day was gone and replaced with the darkness of night. The lights of the manor lit up the grounds behind them and the roundabout parkway they were standing in. Disorientation took hold, and Jason struggled to keep himself from displaying his confusion as he looked around. He looked back up at Dick, “What?”

Dick grinned but it was slightly concerned, “I said I have to get going”

The way he said it overlaid with a Dick from his past memories…No…. her past memories. Jason cursed himself, wondering how long he’d been standing there remembering stuff that he hadn't even experienced. “Right,” Jason said quickly. He didn't want to come off as suspicious or talk about events that he couldn't keep up with because he wasn't actually there for them. He went to rub his neck and forgot about the tons of hair layering his head and back, “Are you ok?”

Dick seemed surprised by her-his question but the expression was quickly smoothed away, “Of yea” he reassured. Jason noticed the way Dick placed his hands in his pockets but the pulsing veins along his forearms didn't diminish, “I just have a few things to take care of before I turn in for the night”

“You still have work?” Jason teased, “Shouldn't you have finished that before going to a party?”

Dick smiled but it was tight, “It's more on the personal side of things…but yea, still work I guess”

“Bu-”

“Sorry Ana, I really can’t stay very long, but as soon as my schedule clears up, I’ll reach out, ok?”

Jason knew when he was being dismissed, “Alright,” he turned to go before pausing, “Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer? Work doesn't mean everything you know. I don't want to be too cheezy”

Dick grinned pridefully, telling Jason he’d taught the Russian girl some Western terms.

“But aren't we here to enjoy ourselves? Working too much may get you money, but not contentment”

Dick smiled in a softer way but Jason could still see that look in his eyes. It was the same expression Dick wore when he was trying to humor Damian’s demands while not giving in. Dick was touched by the effort but not swayed. Nothing could sway Dick…until Deathstroke apparently.

“While you’re right in most situations, this is only something that will nag at me if I don't take care of it. I might actually enjoy it by the end. But it’s something that has to get done, others will be better off for it”

No, we won't! We fucking won't be! Jason bit his tongue to stop the thoughts from verbalizing on his tongue. He tasted blood and continued chomping down on his own flesh. Dick escorted him to the front steps and kissed the back of his hand before departing. Jason and Roy watched him drive away, realizing that Lydia Ryland would most likely disappear in Russia and the public would never know what happened to her.

Chapter 44

Notes:

Hey there!

I didnt realize how long this ch was until I was editing. srry lol

“I cannot believe how outrageously irresponsible you were!” Bruce hadn't stopped shouting for the last 30 minutes, and Jason was willing to bet that he would continue until his voice gave out. Roy and Jason had been teleported back to the cave to find that Tim had been diligently radio silent because Bruce had found him and Zantanna mid-mission surveillance. The Dark Knight had been furious but unwilling to jeopardize Roy and Jason while in Russia. Zantanna, tired and magically depleted, was ordered to do what she could to convenience the minds of their captives that they had dreamt it all. She had then switched back the real for the fakes before being dismissed. Bruce had returned from attending a meeting with Superman and Wonder Woman to determine if she was mentally fit to participate and lead the League again. They’d decided to leave a small entryway open for J’onn to occasionally check the status and stability of her mental landscape for now. Diana was eager for field work but cautious of her limitations for now, more than eager to allow others the opportunity to subdue her in case she rampaged again,

“We got a ton of information though Bruce! This confirmed so much! We got the time and place for the shipments between Deathstroke and Anatoly, and we got the estimated month the Light is making their move and-”

“We what?” Jason asked incredulously.

Roy smacked him over the back of the head, “How much were you actually tuned out for, idiot?”

Jason rubbed the back of his head, unwilling to admit to a combination of zoning out and experiencing memories and emotions of their target’s daughter, “Fuck off. I'm the one who had to act the part all night. Fuckin’ douchebags waving their metaphorical dicks all night long”

“You could have been hurt or captured or killed! Not to mention the precariousness of your situation”

Jason looked at Bruce, “The whole thing was-”

He stopped when he caught Tim’s expression. The younger boy looked somewhat ashamed, like Bruce had hit a sore spot, “What? Are you talking about Ryland?”

Bruce’s expressions darkened, and Jason’s became more enraged, “How was I supposed to do anything about that?!”

“ Nothing ,” Bruce growled, “You interjected yourself in a horrendous way that risked both of you and limited what you could do. You could have extracted immediately to ensure Ryland was saved or captured by a reliable contact. You risked everyone at that party-”

“Dick already knew she was there! She would've died with or without us being there-”

“But you did nothing-”

“Good!”

Jason didn't totally mean to yell that, but cutting each other off in a yelling competition felt like deja vu, like he was 15 again and angry at everything that breathed, “Dick deserves to have justice” he pointed a finger at Bruce, “The only reason I ever started helping you and this shit show” he waved his arms around at the cave, “Was because Deathstroke is fucking him up and he might- might - regret it. But if he doesn't….if this is really what that asshole wants to feel whole and to feel like he's protecting us, then fuck it!? I don't have a problem with it, why do you?”

Bruce started him down with furiously slitted eyes.

“Oh that's right,” Jason seethed, “We don't have the right to be the executioners....” Jason blinked away a flicker of green, “You hypocritical asshole! You- you-”

Jason was having trouble spitting out comprehensible words beneath a veil of putrid green wrath, “Stop spouting all these fucking lies about wanting to help Dick at all costs, if all you really want is to arrest the fuckers who fucked him up! He would've been fine! And off at college and dating some preppy chick but they took it all ! Just let him fucking handle it how he wants!”

“I will not permit Dick to act as Deathstroke wishes he would”

“Why? All you care about is your little arrest track record,” Jason was ready to pull out his hair. Bruce’s eyes were green and his skin held a sickly viridian hue, nearly matching the stone walls around them, “Are you that fucking insecure about looking bad-”

“If Dick doesn't find anything wrong with his actions then what hope do any of us have?” Bruce roared. Above them, the bats flapped and fluttered in response. Jason watched Bruce cautiously before the words registered. He slowly brought a hand up to run it through his hair. He chuckled once, then twice, then laughed an incredulous sound. There is no way I just heard that. He didn't even care that everything around him was green. He couldn't stop laughing, but amusement was the last thing thrumming through him at the moment.

“You asshole” he breathed in disbelief, “And you wonder why Dickhead doesn't wanna come home” his voice jumped into a yell so strongly his throat piqued with a sudden ache of soreness, “Who the fuck are you to pressure him like that?! To hold us to Dick’s standards?”

Jason didn't remember anything over the next handful of seconds.

If he thought back long and hard, he could remember his breathing feeling heavy, varying shades of green plastered across all of his senses… and anger. So many different shades of anger…enough to match the shades of green he saw everywhere. Spite and anger, and rage and envy and poisonous feelings that made his fingers tingle and his forearms thrum, “Who the fuck is he? He’s just some poor orphan who got caught up in a gang war and stuck in Gotham! And now what? You expect us all to act like he’s Jesus reincarnated? Like, he’s the line defining good and bad?”

Jason's throat ached from the forcefulness of his words, but he rode the painful strain in his jaw. Use it to fuel the desperation of his limbs-the feelings that pleaded for him to throw the first punch, "If shit didn't go down that night, the Graysons would've packed up their little show and traveled to the next city! And the next! Goddammit Bruce! Dick should be some middle-class Eastern European who can't even speak English! What the fuck do you see in him that sets the bar for the rest of us!?"

More green

 

More anger

 

More heat

 

More pressure

More pain

More heat

 

Too many sensations to name for how quickly they wanted to become his entire perspective. His fists started to thrum so heavily his skin pricked with pain and pressure and everything in between he-

“Jason!”

His cheek met the ground at the same time he registered a body layering his back. Jason gasped a strangled inhale and tasted more concrete than actual oxygen. He coughed and breathed again, feeling the cave’s cold air burn his heated lungs like mint gum. His right cheek burned and thumped.

“Stop!” Tim was above him. Jason furrowed his brow, unfamiliar with being pinned by the leaner boy. Tim was positioned so that the majority of his weight sat upon Jason’s lower ribs, with his hands prepped to administer effective pressure point attacks. One of the few ways he’d ever been able to champion Jason in sparring.

They stared at each other as their breaths calmed, “What?-”

“Are you still seeing green?”

Jason reared back but had nowhere to go, “The fu-”

“Are you still seeing green?” Tim insisted aggressively. They both knew that Jason could buck Tim off quickly, but he stayed lax and gathered his breath, “No?”

Tim calmed, “Good”

Tim leaned back and sat beside Jason while the older boy sat up cautiously. He looked at Bruce, noticing how silent he’d been, only to stop at the sight of a large, dark red mark marring Bruce’s lower cheek. Jason’s face lost some color as he realized he’d fallen into pit madness… again. Denial was the first thought that came to mind. There was no way Bruce would allow him to get a shot in, no matter how pissed Jason’s been, he only ever managed to challenge Bruce when he was newly returned from the Shadows and hopped up on Talia’s secondhand revenge. Besides, this was just a stupid argument. Jason’s entire relationship with Bruce was an argument. It didn't make sense for Jason to snap now, not after everything Bruce had done and said. It didn't make sense.

Sure, maybe when Bruce wanted to keep Dick under lock and key years ago. Or when Jason found out Bruce had revived the Joker. Or when they learned that Bruce had permitted the deaths of all the other sleeping talons and then denied that they were alive to begin with. Or when Bruce suggested that take Dick’s autonomy from him and keep him as a kid…..the list went on and on, but this??

This was just another argument…another-

Like a cresting wave, his anger and spite reared its head and left Jason vibrating with invalidated wrath. He shoved Tim away and stood in a stumbling mess. His head was cloudy and his face felt heated, “Fuck you” he spat at Bruce’s bruised face, “I'm fuckin' done” he swiped a hand through the air between them, “You-” the words to articulate his frustration bubbled into sounds instead of words, “Fuck this!” Jason spat at Tim. He turned on his heel and stomped towards Dick’s bike. He hoped that taking another one of Dick’s things with him in a spitting flurry of temper did something to Bruce’s stoic figure. 

“Bruce, why did you just stand ther-”

Jason shoved the helmet on his head and sped off in a mess of burned rubber and screeching.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Tim collapsed backward into the closest chair the moment the cave was empty again. Roy had slipped away not long after Zantanna, but Jason’s exit put a cease to all further conversation. Bruce hadn't even spared Tim a look, unwilling to deal with another difficult son-and one much more verbally eloquent at that. Tim didn't bother with Bruce, knowing Alfred would pressure the man into icing his face. It had been a shock when Jason suddenly jumped Bruce. He’d been ranting and yelling when he suddenly fell silent. Tim thought Jason had basically yelled out the anger and given up even communicating with Bruce, when the next moment, he was on top of the older man.

It was nearly paralyzing to see Jason going at Bruce in such a savage way. Bruce was still in his cowl, and Jason was only dressed in a pair of sweats and socks. He’d pinned Bruce and surprised the older man with a swift flurry of sharp movements. He took them both to the ground and started wailing on Bruce, nailing him in the face and chest with surprising accuracy. 

The span of time in which Tim was adopted happened to overlap with Jason returning from the dead so Dick and Bruce made sure to steer Tim clear of every interaction with Red Hood. But Tim had seen plenty of footage of their fights and knew Jason's fighting style: Robin's and Red Hood's. The way Red Hood fought was powerful and brutal. He preferred to attack first and steal the offensive with abrupt thundering assaults. Occasionally, though, he would fall still and quiet, resembling a swaying corpse. That only lasted seconds before Red Hood moved against his target in a way that was both savage and physically elegant, having fallen into a green frenzy of pit-induced madness. Bruce had deemed it brain damage for a long time until they learned how Talia had healed Jason. The depth and amount of time he’d spent submerged had left him with increased enhancements as well as periodic susceptibility to the pit’s control.

Bruce hadn’t fought back against Jason. He took the assault in a way that Tim had never seen before. He had no words to describe how Bruce hadn’t technically just lain there and taken the hits, but he hadn't fought back in any way. It was a level of avoidant combat that he hadn't seen before. Tim wondered if it was because the only villains to ever capitalize and dominate Batman had never taken the opportunity to pummel him in the face like Jason just did. The only other time he’d seen a similar visual was when he’d hacked the Batcomputer to access Batman and Robin’s visuals in the field. He’d been benched and kept in the dark, but as soon as Batman and Robin had left to respond to reports of Red Hood, Tim had caught on. He’d only caught a few visuals of the fight between Red Hood and Batman because Dick’s presence calmed the pit madness relatively well. But Tim couldn't help but feel the same strange, otherworldly sensation as his brother and father fought like a back-alley brawl-resembling their old fights when Jason was still crazed and Nightwing not yet on the scene.

Tim had half a mind to push himself up and away from the desk, whose presence really only seemed to monitor the negative achievements. Dissociation battled against logic and won out, leaving him limp and despondent in Bruce’s chair. Everything sucks right now.

“This is pathetic” 

Tim jerked upright, catching himself in the reclined seat to look up and find Damian staring down at him. Seeing Damian hanging among the few support beams and rafters the cave required made him look the smallest Tim had ever seen him in a long time. The bats didn't twitch as the boy moved, wordlessly proving how comfortable the bats were with their Robins. Tim glared but calmed. He sank back into the chair, “What are you talking about?”

“Tsk” Damian scoffed and swung down, hands first, in a way that was very Dick reminiscent, “How you allowed that to be handled”

Tim shot back up with a scowl, “What I allowed? Get off your high horse Damian. I'm no one's parent and I don't control them” he waved a hand at where Dick’s missing bike should have been, “You saw them! They're fucking crazy! Bruce doesn't listen to anybody and Jason’s a fucking nutcase-even without the pit”

Damian scoffed, “Richard would have been able to calm them. At least enough to keep Todd from storming off to do something stupid”

A tidal wave of unfairness overwhelmed him and Tim was smiling before he realized it, “You're right Damian” he dropped his hands as sardonic humor split his lips, “Dick would've done much better at all this” He wanted to make Damian regret pushing his buttons. He wanted him to regret speaking without thinking, which was all Tim ever did. He was sick of being the bigger person and considering his words and actions.

“Maybe that's just another reason he left and won't come back” 

Damian didn't respond, so Tim looked up, his gaze strong and persistent. He wanted to make sure the kid felt how much he meant that…even if he didn't.

After a long silence, Damian moved. Tim looked up, quietly pleased to see he had scared the other boy off. Damian swung down from the beams before sliding down to the floor like a fireman on a pole. His feet touched the floor, but he didn't proceed toward the stairs that led to the elevator. Damian approached Tim, and he felt his hackles rise, wondering if he was about to experience Damian’s attitude the same way Jason did. They stared each other down, and Tim refused to sit up, unwilling to show how uneasy Damian could make him.

“Father was wrong”

Tim didn't react. He stared back and waited.

Damian scowled harder, “Father is obviously unwilling to consider that the types of….covert operations we need to acquire information and evidence like the type you and Todd just employed into”

Tim only raised a single brow expectantly.

“Father is partially very occupied with the League now that Wonder Woman has recuperated. So that, patrolling, the company, and even Commissioner Gordon's medical care have him split in too many directions”

Tim had the urge to respond as petulantly as Jason would, “Good job for Bruce. His own actions and decisions have consequences. That doesn't mean he can't control us and yell at us like that. You're his only actual partner, and you aren't even a minor anymore. He needs to grow up and realize we aren't still the same age as when Dick died”

“And you need to grow up and stop being so passive!”

Tim balked, but Damian kept going, “You are passive when Father yells. You are so accepting that his word is law and-”

“Like you didn't kiss his ass when your mom shipped you here”

“I was a child !” Damian shouted, “But that is exactly the point! Look how pathetic I was! I was wasting all my potential for self-development by forcing myself into a Batman-shaped box. I am not Batman. You aren't, Todd and Richard aren't-”

“What's your point?” Tim demanded. He was seconds away from storming off.

“Stop acting like Batman and thinking like Batman if you aren't,” Damian snapped. Tim glared back, understanding Damian’s point and hating it all the same.

“What is this? Huh?” he stood up, glad for the height difference, although Damian still outweighed him and nearly outgrew him, “You on some fucking power trip after seeing us plan a mission behind Bruce’s back just for it to go wrong?”

Damian crossed his arms, “I will be the first to point out how foolish it was to kidnap people, impersonate them through magical means, and nearly involve yourself with the Court all on the other side of the world…but it was not a failure. That is why Father is wrong. He is blinded by pressure and too many other priorities”

Tim watched Damian cautiously, “Ok?”

“We need to take the opportunity to foil Deathstroke’s plan and side operations. You took down all of those times and dates in which shipments will take place across Eastern Europe. We can disrupt those shipments, which will weaken this new partnership for Deathstroke”

Tim frowned, “Why would we do that?! Slade already hates us!”

“Deathstroke needs to be reminded that he cannot take us for granted like he has been. This mission proved that Deathstroke does not keep us informed of everything he promised he would and it would be foolish to waste the information Harper and Todd risked themselves for”

Tim crossed his arms, “Dude, I don't know when you checked out, but that informal promise we forced Dick, and Deathstroke, into kind of fell apart long ago”

Damian frowned, “It still stands that Deathstroke did not inform us that Ryland was attending this, or that he believed the Light would be closing in on him and Richard soon. If I were being generous I would allow his side businesses to slide but he has been negligent on nearly everything else” Damian swiped a hand between the pair of them, “Look at the mission where West lost his shit! Wonder Woman was compromised, and Richard was sent after Court-related documents pertaining to Amanik, and we would never have known if it weren't for us instinctively stalking Richard. This was not part of the accounted-for preplanning, and it turned out to be essential to our success”

Tim allowed his attention to slide away, acknowledging how correct Damian was, “What do you expect me to do about it?” he was so tired . Even if he wasn't the peacekeeper everyone wanted from Dick, he was still so tired from being the one steady temper in their household. He felt like the oldest brother in the house because he refused to allow himself to get up and walk out on them all like Jason did every time he lost his temper.

“I expect you to listen to me,” Damian snapped. Tim was amazed at how vibrant the kid was, usually was, despite his negative attitude. Tim felt the opposite. He was always drained and tired and feeling like he was running on his last bout of a second wind, “We need to send a message to Richard and Wilson. It is obvious they do not consider us a legitimate threat or obstacle. We need to remind them that we are a key player, just as much as they are, in all of this. With or without Father’s approval”

Tim watched him, “Do you actually think this will be worth it? Be serious, Damian, is this just you having the energy to be spiteful?”

Damian glared, “No, this is just you convincing yourself we've already lost”

Tim didn't even have the heart to glare at Damian, “So what if we did, huh? What if we literally took a zeta to Siberia or Belarus, or wherever, and fucked up a big shipment and pissed off Deathstroke. What's the plan? Hope that he doesn't retaliate to stay on Dick’s good side? Hope that this ruins a business deal for Wilson? We barely have anyone who can help? Jason’s MIA and Roy has real-world obligations to Lian-”

“Stop making excuses!” Damian shouted. He threw up his hands, “Stop it! So what if Todd is MIA. He always returns. We don’t need Haper for every mission. We have you and me and Batgirl and West and Crock and the others!” his glare deepened, “And yes, that is exactly what I expect to happen! I want to remind Deathstroke of his obligation to see us as a threat! This might not ruin Deathstroke’s new business deal, but it may scare off Anatoly to see that vigilantes follow him and Richard. This will also remind Richard that we are here . We are still heroes and are doing our job. Our presence will be a good thing for him to remember. I will not allow Deathstroke to weasel us out of Richard's life like this” he brought his hands to his hair, “I mean, when was the last time we saw Richard in an intentional way? Huh? He has either been too injured to speak to us or we’ve stalked him into revealing a secret mission or-”

“I get it!” Tim snapped, “I get it, Damian…I do, but can’t you get how it feels? I mean, look at our progress...we've been punching at concrete walls here”

“Don't you get it, Drake?” Damian insisted, “This is the first step to us sealing Richard’s fate. We start getting tired and stop being as hypervigilant. I'm not an idiot ; I can feel the hopeless news of the situation, but that is what Richard has been trying to inspire in us. To push us away, ” he stressed, “I truly think we are still on equal footing or at an advantage at this point. We still have access to Deathstroke, who is a connection to the Light. Father and Allen are working on the chips more and more each day. And we’ve just uncovered the Light’s timeline for attack!”

Tim nodded, unable to deny Damian, “Yeah," he sighed.

Damian scoffed, “I am not so unreasonable as to expect 100% effort from us all of the time, but this is pathetic. Todd sees Richard in his new element and abandons us all for another hidden tantrum, and you lose all your momentum after being yelled at by Father. That was not even his loudest tone. He raised his voice much more when I tried to assassinate Pennyworth as a child”

The morbid statement paired with Damian’s self-righteous tone brought an unwilling smile to Tim’s lips, “Yeah,” he agreed softly. Damian scoffed again, “Tsk. I am going to reconvene with Gordon to form a team. This first shipment is due to be handled next week, so we have plenty of time to plan. Father will most likely be at work or at the watchtower, but I will be in my room if you ever locate your balls”

Tim’s lip twitched down in annoyance, not even amused at how Damian butchered Jason’s favorite comeback of, “Find yourself a pair of balls, 'cause yours are missing”

____________________________________________________________________________________

The next day, Tim found himself, Barbara, Wally, Artemis, Damian, and Kaldur in Damian’s room. Kladur looked around at them, “For a room this spacious, we take up quite a lot of room,” he commented. Artemis and Wally were seated in front of the windowsill, Kaldur had claimed the desk and chair, Tim was standing, and Barbara had claimed the bean bag by the door. Damian sat in the center of his king-sized bed with crossed arms, “Are we here to plan or complain?”

Wally rolled his eyes, “Why did we agree to this?”

Artemis nudged him in the ribs and muttered, “Be nice” Roy would have attended, but every day he wasn’t taking care of Lian, he was out making sweeps for Jason. The group found it odd and inquired as to what happened, but the three kept silent, not willing to discuss the strange headspace that becoming a woman had put them in. Tim could only imagine how strange it was for Jason to have non-platonic feelings for Dick projected onto his mind-unsettling to say in the least. Zantanna reported that what they were experiencing was common, just not that it had hit so close to home in regards to the pseudo feelings being about Dick. She told them to tell her if it persisted for more than a month, she would work to erase the magical sense lingering over them from the spell’s usage. It would not dull the memories they had about the event and the mission, but it would help minimize any weirdness. She admitted it hadn't been a good idea to pick someone who had a crush on Dick, and apologized, but promised that the effects should fade as they didn't originate from Roy and Jason-only imprinted. 

“We have been too lax concerning Deathstroke and Richard, but this has only gotten worse as the Light has made moves to separate our priorities,” Damian lectured the group. Kaldur nodded, seemingly the only one taking the barely adult seriously, “That is to be expected. We are playing a tense game of cat and mouse. Half the Light is aware of our identities-”

Damian waved him away, “I'm aware, but that is the least of our concerns. My grandfather trained Batman. Luthor, knowing who we are, is not as much of a threat as he sounds, and revealing our civilian faces would incur harsher consequences for him. He benefits from staying silent”

Wally leaned back, “Still so weird”

Artemis sat straighter, “It really is strange. My dad would have never kept this kind of info a secret. He would sell anything if it had profit”

“We're getting off-topic,” Barbara pointed out. She was sunken into Damian’s purple beanbag and her bright red hair was curled up and pinned back, “Do you really want us to go attack Deathstroke? Damian, you know this won't end well”

Damian frowned, “It will if enough of us come and follow orders accordingly. The point of this is not to attack and arrest criminals. We need to do this to remind everyone that we are not sidekicks or their soldiers. We are all independent adult heroes. Deathstroke has seen us as an extension of the League for too long. We need to remind him that we are a threat, without our mentors, and we need to remind Richard that we will not allow him to push us away”

Damian looked pointedly at Wally, “West, your latest actions are the best example I have. I am unable to discern which of Richard’s previous actions were genuine and if he said anything that was not true, but the results are obvious” Wally frowned, disliking where Damian was headed, “He made you mad and disinterested in pursuing him. Richard cannot be allowed to continue. He is ruining his chances to return to a life he obviously values but Deathstroke’s near-constant presence is blinding him to the disadvantages he is incurring along the way”

“Damian, we understand that you dislike the effect Deathstroke has had on Nightwing, but it's quite clear that no one is forcing him into this,” Kaldur put it lightly. Damian scowled, “And my brother will need to repent for that when he returns to normal, but he will have no opportunity to do so if we continue taking a backseat!”

Kaldur looked at Tim, who hadn't looked away from Damian once. He wore heavy bags beneath his eyes, but his gaze was resigned and accepting. He nodded, “Alright, please explain your plan for us if we are to follow through with the least damage inflicted”

Damian nodded resolutely and sat even straighter, “Anatoly wants Deathstroke to oversee and manage a shipment of firearms and ammunition in exactly 6 days. This means we have…”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“I can't believe you got Alfred involved,” Tim whispered. Damian shot him a glare from the side, “Pennyworth is merely helping us avoid Father’s attention until a more convenient moment”

“Alfred told Bruce that we’re focusing on team building for 2 days,” Tim hissed back, “You don't think that's suspicious? We haven't done anything official with the YJ team in forever-and chasing Wonder Woman down doesn't count. He’ll see right through us”

“He will…after” Damian reassured, “But the fact that he accepted the excuse for now proves how overwhelmed Father is with too many tasks. If anything this will assist him by not burdening him with a topic that stresses us all out”

“Dick can’t be his own topic” Wally interrupted, unimpressed. Damian shot the redhead a glare, “You have very poor social etiquette if you think every sentence is a pending gateway for you to enter a private conversation, West”

Wally balked and looked at Kaldur and Artemis on either side of him, “We can all hear you?” he rebuked.

Damian crossed his arms, “I repeat. When did I ever state that I requested or desired your input?”

Wally frowned and Artemis patted his arm apologetically, “I see why his mom ditched him”

Artemis frowned but didn't argue. Babs, too familiar with the cutthroat banter of the various Robins, looked at the boys, “No word from Roy or Jason?”

Wally shrugged, “Roy’s not MIA. He’s been taking care of Lian every night so Ollie and Dinah can get out of the house and patrol but Jay’s still missing”

Tim and Damian shared a look, slightly concerned, but not surprised, “We will worry about that all later,” Damian declared, “We need to focus. Our target hour is approaching”

Everyone nodded. Wally pulled down his goggles and slapped his chest, throwing his suit into a darker grey for camouflage. They were staked out in a remote forest in Belarus, waiting for Slade’s first shipment to cross their path. According to what Tim had picked up from the mission in Russia, Anatoly’s men would be handing over the first trial run shipment to Slade’s men somewhere remote. It hadn't been too hard to confirm which factories were unofficially under Anantoly’s alias’ and follow a few dozen trucks out to the forest, just a few clicks south of Minsk. The sky looked shadowed and grey from the combination of overcast skies, coupled with looming hundred-year-old trees. Even Barbara had pointed out that Gotham’s skyline was the same shade of grey but for drastically different reasons. 

They’d been waiting for the last few hours over a crest in the rocky terrain. Slade’s men hadn't shown up yet, but they were due in the next half hour. Wally had been checking on Anatoly’s men every now and then to confirm they were still sitting idle in the trucks; the backs loaded with unregistered firearms and tons of ammunition. Tim had seen operations like this too many times to count. Parts of guns or nearly complete guns were packaged up and shipped out to become ghost firearms: unregistered or unmarked weapons that were untraceable by most Western governments due to the lack of serial identifications that most approved weapons manufacturer factories had to print out on the handles or barrels.

Kaldur took the lead while checking his hydrokinetic water maces. They glowed faintly from where they strapped across his shoulder blades. He looked to Batgirl and Artemis to confirm they were ready before looking to the boys. Everyone nodded to him just in time to what a new sound. It was obvious and loud as the rumbling drew closer. A colony of heavy, dusty trucks met the parked ones in a mirroring fashion.

“We should've asked Connor and Megan to come,” Artemis whispered as they watched the trucks blast each other with equally bright headlights.

“No,” Tim denied, “We’re fine”. He knew Megan was struggling after Dick’s latest kidnapping. She had expressed her guilt over needing to force Dick’s mental subspace out of her own headspace, but Tim understood. He still had nightmares about the Court all the time, he had no idea how he’d handle it too, so to have witnessed it from inside Dick’s head like Megan had done....She’d already been sucked into his memories during therapy years ago and his latest torture had probably left some new scars. Tim pulled out a wrist-sized surveillance telescope and watched the front few trucks. They were hoping that Slade wouldn't attend, making today much easier and even harder hitting when word got back to the mercenary.

The team watched Tim with bated breath as he zoomed in, “I see his team,” Tim reported slowly. He tracked Wildcat, Eerie, and Falcon as they exited the first vehicle and rounded the headlights. He zoomed in on the first truck to see a tall, dark figure emerge after. His face was nearly covered, but Tim knew that figure well. The broad shoulders that looked like Jason’s and the dark locks that curled when they got damp, like Bruce’s did.

“I see Dick” Tim reported. No one spoke, waiting for Tim to call out Deathstroke. The second youngest Robin waited and watched but as Dick rounded the front of the truck and started issuing orders and making hand gestures, Tim felt his shoulders drop, “I think we’re good” he pulled away from the ocular device and set it down, “I don't see Wilson and Dick looks like he’s already arranging his men”

“Deathstroke isn't the type to sit back and play passenger princess,” Wally commented. Tim nodded, “He's not coming. Let's move”

The plan they had decided on was to split into 3 groups. Artemis and Kaldur would handle the shipment envoy and disrupt it. They were hoping it was as simple as placing some low-grade explosives onto the truck, and stranding the men there to delay any reports of their attack. Wally would act as a middleman and distract whichever party turned out to be the biggest hurdle. Tim suspected it would be Dick and his private team of three. And finally, Damian, Tim, and Babs would corner Dick and keep him from intervening. Tim had been conflicted because Damian insisted that the more family members cornered Dick the more incapable he would be from acting against them, but that meant that the soldiers from both Slade’s company and Anatoly’s envoy would have a better chance at overtaking Artemis and Kaldur. He had agreed to Damian’s demands but was already expecting that he’d have to pull away and assist another group if things became too heated. 

They split off into their three pre-assigned groups and made their way down and around the hill. They went slowly, aware of how footsteps could become distinct on a forest floor if they were too measured and timed. Crunching leaves and shifting soil and branches were natural, but animals didn't walk with precisely measured steps. Tim placed himself behind a wide tree to wait for the others. Across the way, he lost sight of Artmeis and Kaldur as they prowled closer to Anatoly’s men. Tim leaned around the tree and counted 10 trucks. Anatoly’s men had brought 12 to drop off their illegal shipment, but Dick’s trucks looked like they had a larger flatbed base with fewer men. They waited and watched. Dick was barking orders from behind a black mask, similar to co-op mission attire that Tim had seen. Only the skin above the bridge of his nose was visible beneath whatever black cloth was wrapped around his forehead and over his mouth. He was leaning against the first truck and blocking one of the headlights as his men started marching forward to meet Antoly’s men. Wooden and metal crates traded hands and slowly started to pile into the back of Dick’s convoy of trucks. 

Between both the military and security detail of men present, Dick’s personal combat team was meandering around, ensuring everyone acted accordingly. A few heads turned to the back of the delivery trucks, wondering after a sudden commotion. That sound grew into more and more voices until a few started yelling and calling out. Dick watched but didn't move. He nodded, and his personal team zeroed in on the disturbance. As soon as they made their way past the first few trucks and were out of view, Tim turned to Barbara and Damian, “I'm going to help as backup. Artemis and Kladur can't handle all of Anatoly’s men, and Dick’s-Deathstroke’s soldiers are trained mercenaries”

Damian looked conflicted but nodded, “Comm us if you need more backup. We only need one person to corner Richard adequately”

Tim was about to remind Damian that Dick could take down any of them and just throw them in the back of one of the trucks, but didn't. He nodded before jogging around the clearing in quiet slides and hops. Damian looked to Batgirl, who nodded. They stepped forward and around the tree but the moment they were within range of the clearing Dick froze. He didn't move at first, but they saw the way he tensed. The muscles and veins along his partially bare neck jumped as he stared ahead into the darkness behind the parked trucks. Damian took another step forward but had to fall to th ground as Dick turned with a swiftness that surprised them all. A sharp blade left his hand and embedded itself into the tree beside Barbara's head. It wobbled slightly from the force but didn't go very deep as the trees around them were hundreds of years old.

Dick watched them before the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Hey guys” he greeted warmly. Damian frowned, aware of the particular brightness behind Dick’s irises. It had been a long time since Damian had seen his brother without blue eyes, even if they were just contacts. Dick leaned back against the truck and jerked his chin at the rising commotion near Anatoly's convoy, “Is that Jay?”

“Drop the act, Dick” Barbara snapped. Dick beamed even brighter at her, “Hey Babs! Haven't seen you in forever”

“That probably isn't Jaybird, he’d be shooting by now” Dick chuckled as if Babara wasn't fuming. He looked at the pair, “I'll admit, I wasn't expecting you guys. Seriously. Did Timmy hack one of Slade’s servers? I warned Slade that Bruce or Tim would be in his systems sooner rather than later”

Barbra glared at him, “Dick! Stop taking this all lightly, you jerk! What is this?” She spread her arms out as the commotion behind them grew louder.

Dick rolled his eyes, “Come on Babs, you know this isn't even the worst of it. This nothin'” he waved a hand through the air, “Let me guess. You guys are my distraction? Whoever you brought is gonna have their hands full. Wildcat can give most people a run for their money. He's my team's combat specialist, you know”

“Richard, don't play dumb,” Damian scolded, “You know what this is”

“A very strange family reunion?” Dick teased.

Barbra's glare intensified, and she crossed her arms, “You can either tire yourself out or just let us through, but we’re stopping this shipment. Slade can't be allowed to do whatever he wants, especially if he isn't going to hold up his end of the bargain and keep us in the loop about Light-affiliated things”

Dick’s brow rose and an almost prideful smirk overtook his lips, “Woooow. I'm impressed guys, really. This is very much fighting fire with fire. You really want to send Slade a message? Disrupt his external operations and scare him, huh?”

Dick’s tone stayed light and playful angering the two across from him even more severely. A tall flash of electricity shot up from behind the handful of trucks to Dick’s back. Damian and Barbara looked at it sharply, concerned for their teammates. Dick casually glanced over his shoulder, “It sounds like they need more back up” he commented unnecessarily, “Who did you bring by the way? I hope it wasn't Megan. She’s not the best in close combat anything”

Damian glared, “You will not move” he ordered at the first sign of Dick turning away. He turned to Batgirl, “Richard is incredibly chivalrous. He will not punch a woman. Watch him”

Both adults gaped as Damian ran off to help the rest of the team. Dick’s expression softened and he chuckled, “I almost hope he never outgrows that. It was cute when he was 12, but now it's just funny”

Barbra frowned, “None of this is funny,” she lectured.

Dick stopped laughing, “You're right” he held up his hands, “It's probably not to you. You've been holding down the fort and watching over your dad while B and everyone else get to go out. You and Alfred are probably taking turns pulling out your hair”

“Stop that Dick!” Babra cried, “Stop being both. Either be Slade’s jerk or my Boy Wonder. You can't be both”

Dick looked back at her softly, “I'm trying” he said quietly, “Believe me. I'm trying….How have you been, Babs? Gone back to school? Dating?”

Barbra decided to throw Dick’s tactics back in his own face, “Oh, you know. Living life while you fuck up everyone else’s. Dating and lying to him the whole time and-”

“You're seeing someone?” Dick asked.

Barbra stopped before firming up her expression, “I just broke it off, actually. Apparently, I was too distant, and he was getting too needy for what I had time for”

Dick chuckled, “I'm gonna be in the same boat pretty soon”

The redhead didn't look impressed, “Yeah, I heard you’re literally dating some poor heiress for a mission. That's fucked up, Dick”

Dick disregarded her, “Nawww. She’s just as rich as us. She only likes me because I'm not ugly and I won't beat her. The bar is too low not to succeed”

Barbra’s lips twisted in a deformed manner, “Don't joke about that stuff. Lots of girls have to worry about that. She's lucky that she’s got a bank account to make some of it bearable”

Dick tsked playfully, “What happened to sisterhood Babs? Or are you just jealous you don't have unfettered access to this anymore?” Dick spread his hands apart and gestured to himself with a wink. 

Babra’s cheeks lit up to match her braided hair, “As if! That never would have worked out you dumbass. We were just kids”

Dick’s mood vanished in a blink and he stared her down with a clenched jaw, “You're right” he murmured, “It wouldn't have…I died and you lived”

Barbra’s brow broke and her lips parted, “Dick-th-that’s not what I meant,” she sighed. A crashing of footsteps and branches drew their eyes toward Damian's approaching form. He was partially out of breath and had his eyes set on Barbara in a mixture of a message that screamed, help , and I needed to make sure you were keeping him distracted.

Dick cocked his head but his eyes didn't light up in the same teasing way, “It is though” he replied, “It's what you guys all mean when you remind me of the old Dick. Then you get mad or sad when I point it out” he stood straighter, “It's ok. I have to go help my men anyway. The fight sounds like it's lagging, and I wanna know who’s winning-”

“Stop helping Vandal Savage!” Barbara barked out. Dick halted and she felt doubt overtake her, I should have kept my cards to my chest longer.

“And what do you know about Savage?” Dick asked. The redhead across from him crossed her arms, “It's not that hard to connect the dots, Dick. He’s the oldest member of the Light and hired Deathstroke, and by extension, you. Then he goes and connects Dr. Amanik to the Light’s resources despite Cobb being on the run. What’s happening is obvious,” she narrowed her eyes, “But I want to know the why”

Dick smirked, “Oh? And you think I'll just write you a little essay and answer all your demands?”

Barbra smirked back, “No less than 3 pages, and it better be MLA font”

Dick’s eyes were visible but the tension and darkness that suddenly filled them was obvious. He frowned behind his half mask, “Stay out of it, Babs. I'm serious, no good will come from inserting yourself. Not against him”

“How is he involved, Richard?” Damian asked, “He was there at the gala in Jordan, wasn't he? Is Deathstroke also keeping you in the dark-”

“Stop Damian” Dick snapped. Damian fell quiet, but he didn't look pleased by any means. Dick sighed and dropped his head to rub the nape of his neck, “You guys gotta learn to lay off. Seriously” he glanced up at the pair, “Just because I try to keep the mood light or keep your injuries minimal each time we see each other, I-”

Dick sighed and clenched his jaw. He pulled down the cloth covering his nose and lips, “You need to learn to stop and pull back before something more severe happens. My promises can only go so far” Barbra didn't interrupt but felt distinctly like this is how Dick lectured Damian into behaving as a child. The soft parental tone paired with a tiredness that almost seemed to guilt her into cooperating felt familiar to Bruce and Alfred, “We all know I'd never do anything to you guys. I love you and Jay’s called me on my BS more than enough, but I'm not kidding” his brow firmed up, “What if I turn my back and you get shot somewhere lethal, huh? What if you charge into one of my missions without assuming the worst and-” Dick sighed again, his aggravation readily apparent, “Lose a limb, become paralyzed, brain damage” Ticked off his fingers in a cold manner, earning a flinch from Damian on each one, “You need to learn your place in all of this” he spread his arms wide, “That means not targeting Deathstroke’s private contracts just to send a message and that means leaving certain people alone" he looked sternly at Barbra.

She was undeterred, “You know what your problem is-”

Dick threw up his hands, “Good God Babs!”

“No! Don't you cut me off-”

“Or what?” Dick challenged, “You gonna beat me up again? I hate to break it to you, but half the time I let you and the other half you still had a weight advantage from hitting puberty early”

Her eyes narrowed into dangerously thin slits, “Are you calling me fat ?”

Dick’s eyes widened in a combonation of incredulity and outrage, only for everyone’s attention to be stolen by a thunderous explosion just behind them. Dick whipped around and fell into a low duck as a handful of trucks in the very back of Anatoly’s convoy exploded. Shards of bright red metal and wood were thrown in either direction, disappearing into the dense brush of the forest around them. A luminous fire lit up the back of the grouped trucks as the ones not actively exploding caught on fire by proxy. The explosion died down after a few minutes, only to sit as a tall, glowing pyre of metal and crates. Dick growled at the inability of the men he was overseeing for his mission. 

He made to move forward when an intensely searing pain sprang up in the palm of his hand. Damian cried out at the same time Dick roared. He froze and stumbled back, instinctively minimizing any movement that caused the pain to flare up more. He wrenched his attention to his hand to find it pinned to the hood of the truck by the same blade he’d thrown into a tree not long ago. The back of his hand was a mess of blood as his tensed muscles pushed more of the hot red liquid out through the wound. The blade was shoved to the hilt and dug so deeply into his flesh that his whole hand throbbed in time with his heartbeat from the pinching pressure alone. 

He forced himself to inhale a long, shaky breath and regain control. I've had worse. This isn't bad. I've had worse. This isn't bad. I've had worse. This isn't bad. He tried to downplay the hot white pain by telling himself that the pain felt amplified from the sheer shock and suddenness. He looked up to find Babra inches from him, her hand still poised in a retracted manner. Beside her, Damian stood frozen, watching to see what his reaction would be. Dick chuckled, “Nice one” his voice sounded tight. Barbra glared at him, “That's just for Artemis. This next one will be for that pissy attitude recently”

Dick sighed in exasperation, “Is she still angry over that? I knew she would've been fine”

A pair of footsteps interrupted Barbara from responding. Dick saw both her and Damian look over his shoulder at the newcomer, their features firming up to tell Dick it wasn't one of their teammates. He turned as best he could without aggravating his hand where the blade was hilt deep and centimeters from his wrist. He spotted Eerie beside the first car of Anatoly’s convoy. The tall European was covered in soot and wore some sort of liquid splatter on his chin, but it was hardly visible against the amount of black he was donning. He spotted the pale man releasing the safety on his short barrel rifle and Dick moved without thinking. Still facing Eerie at an awkward turn, he jerked forward and threw his torso in front of Barbra’s positioning behind him. The single shot hit him in the shoulder, but the pain and the sound of the gun was minimal compared to the knife wedging his skin open with each tugging movement.

Eerie froze before his attention jumped to Barbara. His gaze searched her features for an answer as to why he would protect that redhead when he spotted Damian, nearly hidden behind a close tree and in front of Deathstroke’s convoy. Dread and realization warred with his features, but he stood still, knowing the pointlessness of running. Dick was on him in seconds. The sludgy blood-coated blade that had been in his palm a second ago was now pressed to his adams apple with a ferocity that had his breath catching. Dick panted into his face and pinned him to the nearest tree. His bright golden eyes shone with an animalistic anger, but Eerie knew he had no chance of calming Renegade down-he submitted instantly.

He dropped his weapon, tossing it back and behind them, since the safety was still off, and waited for Dick to catch his breath, grateful he’d been stopped before he shot one of Renegade’s family. He had spotted the speedster and Red Robin amongst the invading heroes but hadn't seen Red Hood or Batman, assuming this had been a half-assed, unsanctioned attack. “Richard,” Damian tried rerouting the attention. Dick’s fist clenched tighter where he had the front of Eerie’s vest and shirt in his grip. The pair shared a long unblinking look that conveyed all that was needed to. With one last dark look, Dick pulled away. Eerie allowed a full breath, feeling something warm tickle his throat. He knew that was the only warning his team lead would give him.

Dick looked over to Barbara and Damian, “How many of you guys are here?”

They didn't answer initially, feeling the tense weight of what Dick had nearly done to his teammate, “6. There's 6 of us”

Dick scowled, “You’re letting 6 young adults overpower you?” he asked Eerie.

Eerie nodded a silent apology, still feeling like he was on thin ice, “Most of the men sent to meet us have been put down-”

“I don't care about some shit delivery men that Anatoly wants to call his security”

Eerie nodded, “Yes, sir. There’s 4 of them, and 2 appear to be meta. We are struggling to contain them and minimize the damage” Eerie knew his explanation was enough to convey that he’d only come back to get Dick’s help. Dick’s lips twisted in a nasty way before his expression calmed. His irises didn’t, conveying what he refused to say out loud. The dark-haired man pulled away before he rolled his shoulder, grimacing against the pain from Eerie’s bullet in his shoulder. He looked back at Babara and Damian, “If you want to minimize any more damage, you'll stay put”

He didn't wait for their response before making his way across the clearing and past the front of Anatoly’s trucks. His figure disappeared along the same path Eerie had emerged with little preamble. The three were silent for a few moments, but their gazes spoke volumes. Babra broke first, “What was that?”

Damian scoffed and answered for Eerie, “Obviously this buffoon made to shoot us without considering who we were”

Eerie nodded reluctantly, “I did not see you at first,” he said to Damian, “And have not seen you enough to be as familiar,” he said to Barbara.

Her redhead's eyebrows pulled together beneath her cowl, “So? We’re the enemy right now. I'm not dumb enough to expect that we can just waltz right up to the illegal cargo and do whatever we want”

Damian crossed his arms, “This is why I have been telling Father that you staying back to oversee Gotham has only hindered you in the long run”

Barbra scowled, “I read all of your reports and-”

“It doesn't matter,” Damian hissed, “The fact that you haven't been around to see Richard’s strange new behavior. It-it messes everything up!”

Eerie nodded and stepped forward slightly, “His statement is true. The Colonel placed us under Renegade and, outside of his private instructions and training, the most obvious line to never cross is harming one of you”

“One of us? The robins?” Barbra recoiled visibly, "Deathstroke would never let Dick set such an obvious barrier. He would see it as a weakness"

Eerie shrugged, “It's not a spoken rule,” he admitted, “But we know never to harm certain people. A while back, Rengade was punished for putting a boy in the medical ward for speaking ill of him,” he nodded at Damian, who looked stunned.

Barbra slowly looked back to where Dick had disappeared, “Are you seriously telling me that Wilson has been letting Dick play by his own rules this whole time?”

Eerie winced at the informal name, “The Colonel has trust and faith in Renegade’s abilities”

Damian smirked, “That's just code for ‘no one else can handle him’”

Eerie didn't refute that. Barbra didn't look any more appeased, “No” she shook her head, “None of that makes any sense. Dick's fucked in the head and he-”

“Hasn't let any of us come to serious harm, ” Damian finished seriously, “Consider our reports, Batgirl. Richard took a bullet for Drake not long ago. Look at what he just did! The proof is before you-this is why I was insistent on us reaffirming our own presence and abilities with Richard. His refusal to act against us is an advantage” He turned to Barbra with a heated fervor in his face, “I know you have lost motivation because you have been stuck behind to only see our failures on paper, but this is why we must continue!” he threw a hand in Dick’s direction, “Richard isn’t gone! He’s lost. He thinks this mess of a goal to eradicate the Court of Owls will save us and keep us from harm”

Barbra scoffed, “Dick's not that blind. We’re vigilantes. Nothing can keep us from harm”

“He is right” 

They both looked to Eerie.

“Renegade sees the Court as a threat to the world, and his actions prove that it is his obligation to eradicate their potential threat. The Colonel is supporting him in this endeavor”

Barbra looked like she wanted to shoo Eerie, “But this way?! This is literally the worst way I could imagine anyone accomplishing that!”

Damian smirked, “Now you see a small bit of our own frustration. Richard is misguided, not gone”

Eerie frowned, “Renegade does care for you, but you've seen what your… interruptions do to him. Your continued input is not for his benefit”

Damian snapped his head to Eerie aggressively, “Listen here, you-”

“Now now” Dick’s teasing voice stole Damian’s sharp attention, “Let's not fight about moi”

Barbra scowled at Dick’s re-emerging figure, but her lips were softer and her eyes weren't as harsh as when he’d left. Behind Dick, Kaldur, Artemis, Wally, and Tim trailed after him. They each held varying looks of uncertainty and caution across their faces. In the very back of the burning trucks, they could make out the sound of less violent shuffling and men calling out orders to each other. Dick came to stand in the center of the clearing to make way for his old teammates to cross over and meet Barbra and Damian. Tim and Barbara locked eyes and assessed each other’s state instantly, noting that both were fine. Artemis’ knuckles were scraped, and Wally’s face was covered in ash and speckled with mud. This was only made more apparent when he pushed his goggles back up and into his hair, leaving two bright circles of clean freckled skin around his eyes.

In the very back of the group, Falcon trailed behind with her own short-hand sniper. Her hair was frayed and mused, but she was relatively unscathed save for dirt and grime. Dick looked around at everyone with a humoring smile. He clapped his hands, “Alright, let’s get going”

Damian jerked and looked at Tim, disbelieving that Dick would accompany his brothers and friends anywhere. Falcon saw the miscommunication instantly, “He means you need to pack up and go”

Tim nodded with a frown, “Missions’ over. We’re going home before anyone gets hurt”

Damian scowled and glared at Dick and Falcon, “Were we successful?”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Yes, Dami. You guys blew up half of our shipment and ammo stock. Message received. Now, you need to go before I’m forced to start handling you guys differently”

Artemis noticed the blood dripping down his hand. He held it up and wiggled his hand, wincing when the cool air and movement stung the open wound too harshly, “Babs,” he said simply.

Artemis looked over to Barbara, noticing the splatter of red on the hood of the car beside her. Barbra didn't apologize, “He deserved it. He’s been a dick”

Dick grinned at the joke before Barbra’s frown deepened and he held up his hands apologetically. Wally nodded, “Serves you right, dude”

Artemis’ expression didn't lighten, “I wanted to do it,” she grumbled.

Dick gaped and threw up his hands, wincing again, “I didn't even stab you!”

“You were going to!-”

“Wait, wait,” Tim cut them off. He and Kladur had been sharing looks this whole time and knew they were getting too off-topic while still surrounded by enemies. When Dick made it to the far back vehicles, he made his presence known and quickly pinned Artmis and Tim, threatening to take the time and effort to handle them each unless they stopped and submitted. Wally slowed the moment Artemis' back touched the ground, and Kaldur deactivated his hydro guns but stayed standing at the ready. It was a quick and sudden de-escalation.

Dick was quick to cut to the chase, making sure he knew the point of them being there and that Bruce probably had no idea where they were at the moment. He looked at Tim and warned him to stop hacking Slade's firewall and location, assuming he’d stolen just enough information off Deathstroke’s servers to intercept them in Eastern Europe. He’d ordered everyone back to the clearing and told them that the shipment was already damaged beyond repair. Their message and warning to Deathstroke would be delivered and received poorly, so they might as well save themselves the hassle and just let his men clean up their mess. They had followed Dick back as he directed his men to start putting out the fires and salvaging what they would still assemble and sell later. Tim was glad to see Damian and Barbara looking just as he’d left them.

Everyone looked to Tim who was watching Dick, “We’re free to go? Seriously? There’s gotta be some consequences” he didn't trust Dick’s word at the moment.

Dick shrugged, “Of course there’s gonna be consequences. But I'll handle that. You need to get off Slade’s systems before he takes matters into his own hands though” he warned. Tim nodded, taking the opportunity to blame their knowledge of Dick’s operation on his brother's assumptions.

“What's gonna happen?” Wally persisted, “What do you mean you’ll handle it, Rob?”

Dick smiled, but it was forced, “Well, you succeeded in sending a message to both parties but I need to salvage what I can from the guns you blew up so I'll try to finish and deliver these and then I'll return and report to Slade. He obviously won't be happy about this, but I'm sure you can infer from there”

“He won't?” Damian asked with a slight cringe.

Dick frowned, his lax demeanor crushed under a scornful look, “Grow up, Damian. Of course, Slade will be mad. This is his private profit and reputation you're interfering with here”

Damian looked like he wanted to rebuke Dick but was shamed enough to fall silent for now. Across the way, Tim sent him a pitying look but didn't speak. It was hard to see Dick and Damian’s relationship growing up and maturing. It was almost like peeling a Band-Aid off as slowly as possible. Kaldur looked like he wanted to clasp Dick on the shoulder or stand closer to his old teammate, “This does not sound like something you should be handling on your own, Nightwing. Will you be alright? Our intention was not to…hurt you”

Dick’s lips twitched down at the name, but he replied in a smirking tone, “I'll go back to my master and take my punishment like the good dog I am” Wally winced beside Kaldur and Artemis, “Let's be real here” he said casually, “It's not like any of you can or are going to report back to Slade for me. It is what it is” he said simply, “But I can’t start anything until you guys head off. Is Megan here? Did you take a zeta?”

Artemis tightened her ponytail, still rubbing mud from her body, “A zeta. Megan’s out of commission”

Dick turned from her to Tim, “Since when?” he asked. Tim merely nodded, knowing what Dick was asking. How much had she seen of his torture? How deeply connected was she to his mental landscape still?

“She's working on distancing herself from the issue,” Tim replied. Artemis and Wally watched Tim and Dick, knowing they were speaking on something no one else had knowledge on. Dick sighed but nodded. He rubbed the back of his head, “Alright” he turned to Falcon, “Get them a truck, one of the damaged ones, but make sure it’s still got some terrain traction” he looked to Tim and Kaldur, “Take this back to whatever zeta point you used, but do me a favor and mess it up a little yea? The fewer people find an abandoned non-registered op truck, the better”

Tim nodded, accepting the favor. Wally spoke up, looking at everyone but Dick, “So that's it? We just blow stuff up and then run? Leave you here alone?”

Dick shrugged, “You tell me. You're the ones who showed up and did just that”

Eerie spoke in a cold tone, “He's not alone,” He’d retrieved his rifle at some point and held it at the ready with the thin barrel pointed at the ground. Dick watched him over his shoulder but didn't silence his soldier. He turned back to the team expectantly and waited for them to start picking a vehicle.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick sat in the back of the leading truck with Eerie, making sure his orders were obeyed from his periphery. It was easy enough to glance up and make sure the men who were still conscious were where they were supposed to be. Falcon was helping with the more meticulous orders as well. A sharp throb hit his chest at the sudden need to have Barbara and Falcon meet. They’d get along.

The moment his attention started to drift to the right and over the hill where his brothers and friends had disappeared an hour ago, he corrected himself, forcing his train of thought away and beneath the prioritizing thoughts. He hadn't lied when he told them how he would report this and take his punishment. Slade would dish it out and reprimand him like any of his other soldiers, punishing him however he saw fit. It was a trade that Dick had accepted, he couldn't expect special attention or privilege from Slade, but the man knew he could only force Dick so far when pitted against his family. The man knew Dick would take as many beatings and whippings as it took to keep his loved ones out of the line of fire. The killer still despised Dick’s desire to follow through with their protection.

He knew that Slade was convinced that Dick's long-lasting life would rob him of his need to care, but the moment Dick started to reflect on that he found himself spiraling, considering what the future without anyone he knew would look like and feel like. It scared him how quickly he considered the potential for suicide the moment his family was gone and no longer with him. Those thoughts spiraled him back around to where Slade most likely wanted him…because those thoughts made him feel weak and dependent on his family. Dick knew he was to an extent-could acknowledge his attachment to them all easily, but considering it to the point of suicide once they were no longer around made Dick squirm with shame.

One time, long ago, Dick had asked Slade that if these were genuinely his thoughts and feelings now, why shouldn't he just off himself in the moment and save himself years of struggling mental anguish. Slade had beaten him before throwing him into his room and binding him to his bed. He left a single lamp on, knowing the effect that absolute darkness and blinding whiteness could have on Dick. Depite the week long ordeal and the way Dick’s throat had been left raw and sore from all his screaming, a small demented part of him felt touched over the severely panicked way Slade had reacted to his consideration over killing himself. It made him realize that in the very end, no matter what happened, he wouldn't be totally alone.

He’d never uttered that outloud and refused to give Slade any more satisfaction over him, but it did comfort Dick…..in the darkest lowest moments of his reflective moments, to realize that he’d always have Deathstroke the Terminator at his back. 

Eerie shifted, brining Dick's attention back to him. He examined Eerie’s throat, ensuring the cut wasn't too deep. He’d nicked the Irishman with a bleach-coated blade, ensuring that whoever was stabbed would have a hell of a time recovering their organs from liquid poison. Dick pulled a super shot from his bag of belongings. Slade had taken the initiative to selectively whittle down the gene that sped up healing and recuperation from his own genes before bottling it for his own soldiers and uses. Wintergreen had relied on it whenever they went into the field and Dick came to learn later that Slade had used it on him as Robin a handful of times. Dick had found the idea kind of amazing and theatrical, insisting they give it a comic book deserving name: Super shot is what he settled on.

Eerie accepted the small plastic shot bottle and downed it in one go, grimacing at the taste. Dick knew he'd be fine, the man would have a stomach ache for a few days, if anything.

“They were right” Eerie spoke when Dick pulled away, “The Colonel will not be happy”

Dick chuckled and ran a hand through his dark locks, “No” he agreed, “He won't. But I'll deal with him. Master will make sure I remember the cost I ensure every time I make myself weak and vulnerable for them”

Eerie watched him silently, “They're lucky you care for them this much. They take it for granted”

Dick didn't reply and looked at his feet solemnly, “Maybe” he said softly.

Eerie laid a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Thank you for stopping me from harming them. I’d hate to force you to follow through with anything” he stopped before forcing the next words out, “Falcon and Wildcat….we know you care for us” Second to them, went unsaid.

Dick didn't look up but he heaved an easier breath beneath the weight of Eerie’s hand on his shoulder, “Thank you for saying it so I didn't have to”

Chapter 45

Notes:

I just realized-if everything goes according to plan-that I have like less than 10 ch's left to write and that's sceeeerrrrry.

Sorry for the typos. I find more every time I re read lol.

Slade had watched the kid fluctuate enough. It was time to intervene.

His bird of prey had returned with the somber news that a select few of the League's brats had ambushed the drop-off in Belarus. He was pleased to see the way his apprentice had eagerly prostrated himself before him, expectant of his punishment for failing to ensure a successful mission. Slade almost let him off, purely from the gratitude and pride he received over the sight of Dick Grayson falling to his knees the instant they made eye contact. Almost. If it were not so obvious that his student was still acting in the best interest of the undeserving brats who hold him back, Slade might have let his student go unpunished, knowing that no beating or lashing would convey a greater message than his own shame, reflected back at him from those bright yellow eyes.

But until Slade was satisfied with the belief that his heir’s actions reflected his interests and desires, and his alone , Slade would treat him like the child he portrayed himself to be. It had only taken 26 hours for the lashings to heal enough for the kid to be back in the gym. Since then though, Slade had watched the kid struggle. Having given up on his contacts, the kid’s eyes could be blue or yellow at any moment, acting as enough proof for the amount of internal turmoil crashing through him. 

Slade knew the cacophony of issues that were warring inside Richard Grayson. The young man had yet to get over his internal debate concerning his family, no matter his determination to keep them safe, his methods, and their words, still threw him into a raging tempest of doubt. Clinging to that, he knew the kid was still troubled over Cobb and his temporary kidnapping. His student could withstand torture and could take a beating, but Slade knew that every time the boy closed his eyes, he saw his grandfather staring down at him, waiting… expecting him to obey an order that he couldn't remember. The nightmares and his feverish mumblings in the dead of night were enough of a clue for himself and Wintergreen: It was a crippling behavior that had yet to be de-conditioned. It wasn't the healthiest, but to keep the boy from falling into a medically diagnosable state of sleep deprivation, Wintergreen had taken to drugging his dinner and drinks with melatonin. Just enough to allow him a few hours of sleep.

These prioritizing issues didn't even begin to encompass the grey areas surrounding the kid’s newfound immortality, his rampant episodes of rage and destruction, and his tentative future in regard to the Light and their chips. Slade would never let the kid near one of those mind-numbing supercomputers. He knew the kid knew it too, but saw the doubt layer his eyes every time they furthered the Light's goal in some way. The plan was still to allow the Light to fail under the foot of the Justice League…but Slade knew the kid feared something going wrong. He feared Slade being removed and the Light jumping at their chance to turn the boy into a mindless slave, even deeper and more autonomously robbed than Cobb had him.

Now though, ever since the kid had returned, Slade knew an intervention was required. His bird of prey needed a way to lash out and settle whatever was scratching at the insides of his skin. He wasn't sure if his pesky brothers had said something destabilizing or if it was an entirely different matter, but this latest mission had brought back more yellow than blue.

“Gym in 20,” Slade said.

Dick looked up from his desk. He’d taken to leaving the door to his room wide open for a greater view of who was coming, but Slade knew it was mostly to keep any unnecessary darkness away. His bird was a maladaptive daydreamer, and he could only imagine what kind of daytime nightmares his unblinking stares managed to create when he started off into space, finding enough shadows to recreate an image that was previously exclusive to the inside of his head.

“But-”

Slade stopped and made sure to find his student's eyes, “That's what an order sounds like. I know you haven't been subject to one for a while now, but I suggest you listen”

Dick looked back at him ain nnoyance before nodding. Slade didn't push for a ‘yes master’ but proceeded on, knowing the kid would be along shortly. He’d brought Wintergreen and Dick back to a mid-level secuity base so that his team and a handful of other soldiers could stay on base and recuperate. Slade was very selective in choosing something that wasn’t too humid, knowing Dick’s preference for cooler, milder climates, while staying away from anything that wasn't outright cold and triggering for his talon genetics. Such a perfect expectation forced them across the country to California's coast. 

He checked the inside straps on his gauntlet forearms and prepared the wall of weapons he allowed within reach. He had ordered the regular gym equipment pulled out and away for what he had planned. It didn't take long before the doors behind opened and closed softly. Slade didn't linger long, tossing a double-bladed staff to his student. Dick caught it before twisting it down smoothly and resting it slightly behind him; all without a blink. The look in his student’s eye told Slade he wasn't showing off, merely reacting as he’d been trained. But that brought a newly pleasurable satisfaction to Slade instead.

He retrieved a single long-handed blade as his own weapon before nodding. Dick proceeded forward with slightly bent knees. He’d come dressed in back leggings and a simple compression shirt, exactly the kind of clothing the acrobat liked if there was no other dress code. Slade spoke as their staff and blade collided, “What happened at the trade-off?”

A small twitch along his brow was the only emotion Slade was given. The boy was getting better at controlling his emotions, namely his surprise, “I'm surprised you haven't read my report yet”

Dick spun and slid under a sweeping arc of Slade’s blade, coming up behind to stab at the soft behind of his knees. Slade was quick to continue his weeping arc and made it almost a full 360 motion, forcing Dick to throw himself into a roll instead of following through with his attack.

“I have,” Slade replied, “Your's and your teams. I'm asking what else happened. You've been as moody as Robin usually was”

Slade knew the kid didn't like to be told his own identity and agenda, but saw the hesitation in his rebuke. Telling Slade all he needed to know. Dick did view Robin as someone else, maybe even Nightwing. He wasn't sure if it was an accidental consequence that Waayne had cultured in the kid as a mentally protective tactic, but he'd noticed how drastically different the kid responded to being called different titles. Dick, kid, Robin, Nightwing, Renegade....all titles for the same face, but they could not have been more different resp[presentation of a person. Slade didn't think it would backfire to continue to allow the mental separation, but he did wonder at the severity he was encouraging. 

“Nothing” Dick slipped under another swing and used the propelled arm attacking him as leverage for a high kick. Slade ate the kick to his jaw cleanly and reared back before turning with a swift back turn and meeting Dick’s jaw with his elbow. Dick grunted and stumbled back. His hand flew to his jaw out of instinct. Slade turned with a low smirk. He removed his two-toned helmet and placed it on the floor just out of reach, “And here I thought you were trying to be honest with yourself from now on”

Dick glared and wiped his mouth roughly, “I am,” He charged forward and lunged into a flurry of strikes and swings, forcing Slade on the defense for a few minutes. After a particularly harsh swing of his staff, Slade stumbled back. Dick leapt over his head and brough this heel down mid-swing. Slade, having seen the move enough times, caught his ankle and swung with a twist. He flung Dick across the room and into the rack of weapons. The board of hooked blades, bo staffs, and knives collapsed on top of him, earning additional grunts and leaving a multitude of cuts along his back.

“Sure”, Slade purred. He stood casually and leaned on one hip, watching as Dick glared at him from the floor. The kid struggled to his feet and shrugged off the broken wood and bent metal of the wall frame that had supported the weapons. Dick abandoned his bladed staff and picked up a throwing star from his feet, “I am!” he chucked the blade with nimble fingers. Slade leaned to either side, avoiding more and more knives and projectiles as the boy picked them up in an advancing fashion. Without any further push from Slade, Dick growled out, “What do you want from me? I already took my punishment! I know I fucked up the missio-”

“This is not about the mission,” Slade relayed coldly.

Dick halted, one arm raised above his head. He watched Slade closely, caution lining every inch of his face, “You're not mad about Tim hacking one of your firewalls?”

Slade scoffed, “That brat breached about half of 1% of a domestic base’s security cameras. How he got anything about Anatoly was a combination of his interference at Luthor’s private investor’s meeting and luck”

Dick frowned and lowered his arm slightly, “Then what is this about?”

Slade smirked and prowled forward, “You tell me, Pretty Bird”

Dick’s defensive walls shot up once again and backed up for every step forward Slade took, “I'm not in the mood for games, Slade”

Slade nodded, casually picking up a weapon when he passed the collapsed pile. He twirled the short blade between his fingers, “Neither am I,” he admitted, “Which is why you need to get a grip before you implode on yourself or explode near others”

Dick sneered, slightly offended, “I'm fi-”

“You've been sullen and moody, and the epitome of a brat, since you returned” Slade cut him off, “You're walking a fine line between depression and self-destruction and your own self-denial is making the line thicker and thicker… easier to walk, but no less true”

Dick scowled and rolled his eyes, “I'm fine” he insisted. Slade’s eye darkened slightly at Dick’s refusal to admit.

“What is it that's eating at you the most?” Slade mocked. In a blink, he was within arm's reach and swinging dangerously. Dick nearly yelped, falling into a backspring to kick Slade’s hands away. The large man advanced, forcing Dick to continue flipping away or risk getting caught, “Is it the way your former team and brothers pursue you only to ridicule you and scorn your actions to protect them?”

Dick couldn't answer, forced to doge and evade instead, “Is it the way your mental and biological requiem demands you all but hurt those around you? Do you still have nightmares from the way those black veins cover your cheeks?”

Slade’s hand nearly closed around his ankle and Dick panicked, throwing himself into a messy somersault.

“Is it the fact that you can't even hide your emotions anymore without needing colored contacts or high-potency drugs?”

Slade slammed a steel-booted foot down just as Dick rolled away, leaving an imprint where his head had been moments ago.

“Or maybe it's the Court of Owls, hmm?” Slade swung his arm, catching Dick just as he finally got to his feet and faced the mercenary head-on. Dick hissed and clamped a palm over the trickle of blood running down his bicep, “Is it the weakness you feel in your mind? Even after your body’s healed from the torture of his hands and words”

Dick hissed and found his own blade. He bent down and grasped the handle without even taking his eyes off Slade’s form, “I-”

“Is it the sleepless nights that he’s robbed you of?” Slade didn't allow Dick to get a word in, “Or is the feeling of being overpowered by beings that you called brother and sister? The memory of how they forced you into the small, tight, white, cold chamber without batting an eye- even when your throat began to bleed from your screams-”

“Stop it!” Dick charged Slade with a roar that cracked at the end. He met Slade on and stabbed quick, catching the man in his chest before he was swinging up and at Dick’s head. Dick was forced to fall back and to the side to avoid another hit but he didn't make it far enough before Slade’s boot was slammed into his solar plexus, sending him tumbling back a handful of feet. Dick made to push himself back to his feet but was only able to prop himself up on his elbows when Slade made himself comfortable over his strewn figure-boot back in place.

“Is it your victims?” Slade whispered into his face, “Are they coming back to haunt you?” Dick grunted and tried throwing Slade off with a furiously scathing glare. The large man didn't budge though and merely shifted to counter every one of Dick's movements. He shifted so that his knees were planted firmly on either side of the boy’s hips when a large ungloved hand made its home against his throat, “Or is the Light? Do you fear them ridding themselves of your master? Of your protector? Because then your worries over becoming another mindless slave for the Light might be genuine”

Dick’s bright yellow eye glinted fiercely, almost as if they were a window earning a moment's reflection of the sun. He yelled and pulled forward, risking being choked so he could slam his forehead into Slade's. Slade pulled back with a grunt as Dick scrambled to his feet and backed away. The boy was panting heavily, but Slade could see the way his fingers trembled and his eyes jumped from Slade to the rafters and then the doors, “Even your anger is a farce,” the man scolded. He proceeded forward like nothing ahd happened, “You're forcing your anger, even now. So which is it, Little Bird?” the man cocked his head, “Or is it everything ? Has the weight of so much, and so many, finally started to become too much for you?”

A crack appeared in Dick’s features. Just a small, barely noticeable thing in the way the kid’s eyes crinkled wider, and the formation of his lips. Slade lunged for it the moment it made itself known. He slammed into his heir and took them to the ground. Dick gasped and struggled, growling against the weight of Slade, but that was how Slade knew the boy was being driven by fear…by social anxiety, and every other petty superficial burden the Bat had allowed to fester in his first Robin. If Dick was truly angry…truly furious, Slade wouldn't have stood a chance in pinning the boy so easily. He'd grown up sparring against Batman and then the second Robin, both men who held naturally stocky and broader frames than his acrobat.

Slade’s features darkened over proof of his boy being ruined by external forces and people who had no right to claim an ounce over him. The remarkable dark-haired boy that made defying gravity seem as simple as drinking water….no one else deserved a claim over him….no one but Slade. The only other immortal that could truly match his bird of prey. The only one to have seen the boy’s potential before anyone else. He’d seen what the future held and had envisioned what his boy would become to the point of having the super soldier serum prepared for his 25th birthday.

He advanced on the kid, batting away his attacks and kicks like flies. He grasped his wrist and spun him around. The boy fought and squirmed, but Slade kicked the backs of his knees out from behind him and half-dragged him up against the wall. He slammed him face-first, hearing a grunt of pain in response. Slade leaned in and pressed his weight against the young man, “ Nothing ,” he whispered sinisterly, “Nothing, makes me more furious than to see you so distraught over what should bring you apathy. Everything….everyone, they are beneath you-beneath us. Your vile rat of a grandfather, who will soon be dealt with. Your pathetic brothers who can’t let you go but can’t seem to face you with the same respect you do them. Even the Light is nothing but an amusement,” Slade scoffed against the kid’s neck, “Ra’s Al Ghul and Vandal Savage have seen a handful of organizations and power-hungry men like Luthor and Queen Bee come and go. They're a passing inconvenience…but you,” Slade whispered. The shivers his hot breath earned did not go unnoticed, “You are a once-in-a-lifetime being” 

He pressed against the kid further, feeling the fight or flight response struggle to dominate in his limbs, “The only surviving fetus of decades of experimentation, only to make it from a lowly funded circus to the doorstep of the richest man in North America, and the Bat at that. A naturally occurring immortal…” Slade’s voice dipped into a darkly scornful tone, “And you allow others to dictate your head space. To control your feelings and actions, even affect your motives. Pretty Bird, why do you offer such unfettered control?"

Slade pulled away with a disgusted sound, noting the bloody scratches and slashes along the kid’s spine and shoulder blades. Dick glanced over his shoulder and waited until Slade was more than a few steps back, before turning himself. His skin vibrated with the same anxiety as it did before a high-risk mission. The potential nerves and adrenaline danced along the hairs of his skin as if to remind him they existed. He watched Slade, feeling too much like prey at the moment.

“What is this?” he rasped.

Slade peered down at him coldly, “This is a wake-up call, boy”

Dick tensed, knowing he’d ache tomorrow after being thrown around like a beanbag, “I thought we were past this” he snapped, trying to edge to the side and further await from the dangerous man.

Slade smirked, “I did too, but your recent actions have informed me of otherwise”

Dick glared, “I'm fine” he snapped, “You need to learn to back off, Slade. Yea, I went through some shit. So what if I have a few nightmares? I died!”

Slade’s expression didn't falter, “You don't have nightmares, Little Bird. You're an insomniac . If it weren't for Will’s regular melatonin trips, you’d be stumbling like a fool from your exhaustion” Dick’s jaw clenched, confirming a theory he hoped was and wasn't true. He could never fault the older man for taking steps to care for Dick. It reminded him too much of Alfred to ever hate him for his actions, but it didn't stop the betrayal from flickering in his gut. It didn't stop the distrustful whispers from reminding him of how much of a danger everyone would be to him-could be to him.

Slade continued, bringing Dick’s attention back to him, “And if that was all that was leading to this” Slade waved a disgusted hand at Dick’s figure, “Then I would let it be…but no…you’ve let your brothers pathetic hypocrisy fester in your mind, you’ve allowed Cobb’s actions to convince you you’re weak, you’ve let doubt take hold and make you fearful of the Light-”

“I get it!” Dick snapped, “I've got issues-”

Slade scoffed in return. Dick seethed, “It’s my life! My decisions! That's all you ever go on about, so why don't you let me make these decisions if they're mine! Like, oh I dunno, letting me work through shit on my own time”

Slade watched him, “If you were working through anything, I would leave you be. But you aren't, kid. All you're doing is tormenting yourself and I am done ” Slade reached forward and gripped a fistful of Dick's collar. Dick tried clawing at the other man’s face, feeling frazzled and unprepared for what was about to happen. Slade dragged him across the room and towards the long desk equipped with blank monitors. The black polished screens shone as the pair drew closer. Slade tugged Dick forward, but the resisting young man dug his heels into the ground and pulled backward. He clenched his teeth and grasped Slade’s wrist, trying to tear his shirt free from the man’s grip. Slade combated him easily enough by regripping the material with every tear.

They passed the mats and Slade jerked Dick forward with a sudden pull. Dick stumbled over the lip of the mats onto the smoother floor beside the electronics,  and Slade used his momentum to rear him forward dangerously fast. Dick felt his collar come free of the mercenary at the same moment his forehead met one of the many blank computer monitors in front of them. He yelped as his vision blacked out for all of 2 seconds. He felt the needle-thin shards of glass break and slice his upper face before Slade’s hand was clutching the back of his hair and yanking him backward. Dik grasped at anything around him to combat his being manhandled like a doll, finding the desk’s edge with his fingertips. That only allowed Slade to lean forward and pin him to the desk, though-controlling his torso with his body weight.

Dick slumped, disoriented and angry; and slightly desperate. Slade allowed him the moment before he looked up spitefully, finding Slade’s gaze already on him in the reflection of the other non-shattered screens. He felt warmth tickling the bridge and sides of his nose before the smell of copper overwhelmed his nose and upper lip. Slade looked like he was about to say something, but being pinned under the man’s front, paired with the smug look reflecting back at him, incited that anger that Slade was mocking him for lacking just moments ago. He snarled and threw his head back, hearing and feeling a satisfying crack. Slade released him and stepped back allowing Dick to turn and plant a foot in his chest.

Slade wiped his mouth, “Good,” he looked up, “But not great”

Dick threw up his hands, feeling his back muscles protest, “What the fuck Slade! What's with this sudden push to be perfect?! So what if I'm struggling with shit. I was fucking tortured!”

Slade’s cold eye stared down at him, “I don't want you perfect. I want you, you”

Dick was seconds from rolling his eyes, assuming Slade was just on a power trip and angry over Dick expressing any form of guilt or remorse again. 

“I've reached my own limit, Richard”

Dick halted, unprepared.

“I can give you time to work through nightmares. I can give you time to work through your guilt. I can even give you time to acknowledge that you’re no longer bound by the same mortality as your family” Slade stepped closer, “But what I won't allow” another step, “For even a second” another step and Dick found himself looking up into Slade's eye, “Is you believing you’re weak”

The man’s hand shot out and caught his throat with one hand. The man leaned down, forcing Dick’s back and neck to arch, “Who am I?”

Dick choked and grasped the large wrist, “Deathstroke” 

“Does my reputation not precede me?”

Unfettered fear of the unknown clamped itself around Dick’s spine. He was expecting Slade to demand he call him master, proving Slade was on a power trip and that he wanted to lecture Dick into the ground. Now, he had no idea where this was going or what the man’s purpose truly was. Dick nodded feeling his adams apple crush beneath the movement. Slade lessened his hold slightly, “I am a strong, proud man, pretty bird” The tight grip eased until a thumb began to sway across his throat in repetitive strokes, “I hold myself and my image to a very high standard. Higher than most, although I will admit I have conceded to certain individuals and matters before”

Dick found himself unable to breathe as he watched Slade, feeling the rough pad of his finger stroke across his throat like a metronome. 

“In line with that sentiment. I allow very little leniency for those around me. Even less so for my heir,” the men whispered, “Tell me, kid. Was I wrong for choosing a weak student? Or have I misunderstood the way you view yourself?”

Dick forced a glare, still heated from Slade’s manhandling, “I'm. Not. Weak” he rasped.

Slade nodded, unconvinced, “Lie to me one more time and you’ll come to regret it” his tone was light and simple.

DIck squared his shoulders, “I'm not! You really want me to stand here and admit I'm weak and useless so you can beat me into thinking the opposite? Again?!”

Slade’s eye darkened to the color of shadowed steel, “At least be truthful with yourself”

Dick reared back, “Fuck you” he spat venomously.

Slade grinned, but it wasn't a smile, “Oh, kid….I warned you”

Slade was on him in seconds. Dick tried fighting back with every kick and punch he could try but the man wasn't fighting technically anymore, he was just overpowering. Dick tried falling into a backbend, as it caught most people off gard to have a person’s dead weight fall into the shape of a limp ferret, but Slade was having none of it. He allowed Dick to drop to the floor before he followed up with a sucker punch to the face. Dick’s head bounced off the floor beneath him and he groaned miserably as his vision whited out on every other blink. He felt a rough drag across his calf and morbidly wondered if Slade had found a human-sized cheese grader to use on him, in addition to his favored whip.

The world righted for a few seconds longer, letting Dick know he was being dragged. He looked around in bewilderment, realizing Slade had fisted his collar and dragged him all the way out and through the hallways. Dick grasped at the wrist behind his head as he scrambled to find his footing, “Where are we going?”

No answer.

“Slade!” Dick yelled.

Slade dropped him but Dick didn't hesitate to get to his feet. He turned to find Slade standing in front of the wall with his key card. He brought his wrist to his lips, “All personnel are to stay in place and away from my residential sector until further notice” The Colonel's booming demand echoed from the speakers lining every hallway of the compound. A doorway opened flush with the wall after a beep of Slade’s keycard, revealing a single barren room and one lamp. Dick peered into it, already taking his first step back. Slade turned to Dick and extended a hand invitingly. Dick scowled, “What is this?” he demanded, “I'm not stepping in there!”

Slade looked at him curiously, “Here’s what is going to happen,” the man stated calmly, “I am going to lock you in here, and then I am going to go deal with William Cobb, and on my way back I will sever Vandal Savage’s head from his body”

Dick looked outraged, “What?! No!” his hands flew up, “Cobb is all I've been working towards, Slade! You can't take that from me!”

Slade scowled, “Well, seeing as how you think yourself too weak to fight back against that pathetic rat of a man, I’d figure I would just do it for you-”

“I'm. Not. Weak” Dick reiterated. Before he could react, Slade’s fists snapped out and nailed him in the center of his face. The power of the attack, paired with the short width of the hallway had Dick crashing backward into the wall. “Prove it!” Slade bellowed. He marched up to Dick and slammed him back against the wall once, twice, three times, “Prove to me that you’re worthy of Deathstroke the Terminator’s Legacy” the man spat in his face, “Because all I've seen is a boy who is so desperate for love and attention that he'd sell his soul and body to anyone who says please"

Dick felt his cheeks heat, "Fuck you!"

Slade was void of his previously cold amusement, "Your desperation for empathy and sweetness was cute as a child. You are an adult, Richard. This is pathetic"

The notion that Slade saw his actions and insecurities for what they were was frightening, because what if others saw them as well? He couldn't let Slade take Cobb’s death from him. It was the one thing that tied everything together. He had to remove Cobb to save his brothers. Every time he considered letting him go to rot in Arkham Lincoln’s words from years ago came back to haunt him, “Grandmaster originally wished for the Todd boy after seeing his gusto and fire-” Dick had punched him out but the threat lingered all the same. Dick wouldn't allow the Court to touch his family. And if he eliminated the Court of Owls and his family saw him for the monster he was, then the distance that Bruce would no doubt enforce would only keep them safer, more at arm's length. 

“How can you say I'm stronger than Cobb?” Dick begged, “I wasn't ready yet! That was an ambush! He beat me, he killed me-”

“I'm not saying you're stronger than him, but I will not humor any notion that you are weak. The difference is that Cobb can never excel or improve. You have no limitations, only those you see fit to confine yourself with”

“How can you say that so easily? You saw me! Fuck, I know Wintergreen still turns green when remembers how fucked up I looked. You actually had to cast my ankle for a bit”

Slade looked furious as he lessened the distance, “Deathstroke the Terminator does not make mistakes, nor does he choose weaklings. You are not even 30. He is that with the addition of at least a century”

He looked down at the boy, seeing the tightness around his eyes and the way his fists clenched and unclenched in an attempt not to lash out. The kid was at the end of his rope, and Slade was going to push the kid until that rope snapped, “You are my legacy, little bird. After all these years, if it’s going to be Cobb’s little kidnapping stunt that has you crumbling…I may have to reconsider my plans for you”

Slade saw it instantly-the glimmer of unadulterated fear that widened his eyes and sped up his pulse. The same fear that plagued the boy every time his brothers and Wayne saw another level deeper into what being a talon meant. The fear of abandonment. It was a bluff. Slade would never leave his bird of prey to the wolves. He’d rather kill the kid than let his potential go to waste. But he couldn't deny the lick of satisfaction that emerged overseeing the kid fear his master leaving him. 

“Out of everyone,” Slade whispered, “Out of every pathetic attempt to throw themselves at my feet for a chance at my money, my fame and reputation, my prowess and skill. You are the only one I’ve ever given it to,” Slade scoffed, “And this is what I receive in return?”

The kid stared off to the side with wide, distant eyes, looking like he’d been slapped.

“You’ll never be able to protect your brothers or Wayne with this mentality…..Pathetic”

The rope snapped.

Slade watched with malicious glee as the boy’s eyes lit up in a way that nearly had his irises consuming his pupils. The kid snarled and shot forward. An elbow slammed into his throat before the kid turned quicker than an ice skater and slammed his other elbow into Slade’s temple. A lethal shot for anyone else. Slade grinned and ate the attack, pushing back every few hits-just enough to get the kid riled up over the thought of not being on the offensive.

Slade saw the black, inky veins start to claim the surface layer of his skin, parallel to every hit that came harder than the one before. Dick dropped down and swept Slade’s feet out from under him, not allowing the larger man a moment of peace. Strike after strike met Slade’s cheek, his jaw, his neck, his temple. The mercenary dodged and intercepted strategically, managing exactly how much damage the kid inflicted on him. It wouldn't do anyone any good for the kid to fall into another episode and then go rampaging through fellow soldiers all over again. The first time it had happened, the kid was ashamed enough to lock himself away, vowing that it would be the last time.

A kick to the jaw rattled his head enough for him to see spots, and Slade knew he had to start dwindling down the fight. The narrow hallway and walls surrounding them were speckled with broken plaster, dents, and blood. He caught the next strike and twisted the kid’s wrist. When he saw the pain barely register, he knew he had to put an end to the kid’s lack of clarity. He wouldn't dominate him, though, no, Slade knew it was important for the kid to get a grip over himself and his body. Helping the kid catch his breath and find his mind would be the best medium.

He threw a knee into Dick’s gut and brought his head forehead at the same time the kid doubled over. Dick’s head snapped back from the sudden headbutt and found himself on his ass, looking up at the towering mercenary, “That’s enough, kid-”

Dick spat out at Slade and lunged again, catching the man off guard. They went tumbling, but Slade was quick to rotate, knowing the kid used these attacks to find purchase on top of his opponent’s torso. They grappled and rolled like alligators until Slade had had enough. At the first sign of strain from his own body, he ignited the electrical prods hidden in the armor plating of his suit. He clenched his jaw as the sparks and searing heat forced his muscles to spasm. Dick, unaware of what was happening, yelped before his jaw snapped shut and he trembled beneath the current of electricity.

Slade took the moment of shock to slam the kid down and shut off the connection. The kid’s muscles sagged immediately, but Slade knew he couldn't allow him a moment to gain the upper hand; he’d hate to kill the kid again because he was too much for anyone else to handle. He laid his knee against the base of Dick’s throat while using his other leg to support some of his weight, making sure not to place all of his enormity on the kid’s trachea. Dick gasped and choked, grasping at all the pressure points along Slade’s thighs and lower stomach. Slade gritted through it, and applied more pressure every time it looked like Dick was about to turn the tide in his favor.

The moment the kid’s eyes fluttered and his hands started to fall away, Slade let up. He watched the black veins trickle away and down his throat as he gasped for a full inhale. Slade allowed him as long as he needed before clarity started to brighten his eyes. He patted Dick’s cheek twice, “You with me kid?”

Dick nodded, not looking entirely there yet. Slade stood, feeling his body scream and ache. Dick struggled to sit up and lean against the wall as he watched Slade with caution. Slade smirked, “Like I said. There's no room for improvement in men like Cobb. You wouldn't have been able to come back that quickly, or at all, with a blue shot 2 years ago”

Dick’s brow furrowed, looking like he wanted to argue with something he didn't quite disagree with, “Worst pep talk ever” he rasped. Slade didn't respond. He started down the black-haired kid knowingly. Dick glanced away, one hand lingering on his swollen throat, “I'm no one's equal” he said, “I'm a sidekick or a sibling or a subordinate or a soldier or a slave or weapon and-”

“And what?” Slade’s tone was expectant.

Dick frowned and looked up slightly offended, “How can you say I'm strong or powerful and-and have all this faith in me when even you know I'm like this? I'm a tool, Slade!”

Slade’s expression didn't change but Dick felt a shift in the way the man’s stony blue eye observed him, “I'm glad you're beginning to see yourself in relation to every other powerful figure in your life-in the world, but you’re still not there yet kid. You’re no one's equal yet; and yes, you are a weapon. But I saw potential in you from day 1” Slade stood straighter and maintained eye contact, “And I'm never wrong”

For the first time since clarity returned, Dick took stock of Slade’s body, noting the shredded uniform, the bloody lip, and the way he breathed deeper, more labored. He wondered how much of the man’s body was black and blue beneath his uniform. A dark prideful voice that sounded too close to Slade’s whispered in his ear, demanding he push the man farther and find the proof of Dick nearly dominating his teacher. The harsh breathing, battered features, and more…it all registered for Dick on another level. The man’s lecture about Slade’s confidence in his strength and his disappointment in Dick’s lack of faith in his own rampaged through his head and his heart.

Even now, Dick rarely saw Slade as his master. He was Slade. He was a failed father and a pain in his ass and the strictest teacher Dick had ever been on the other end of, but he was Slade. But the more Dick watched Slade’s clenched jaw… the more he focused on his red-tinged lower lip, the more Dick was unable to halt the realizations from settling in, the cacophony of understanding that ascertained every corner of his mind.

Just like Slade had stated, Dick was the only one to ever be in this position. Dick couldn't even claim that as Robin. Or as a student of the Dark Knight. Bruce had merely tried again, and again. But Slade-no Deathstroke- in all his battle-torn, savagely motivated years, he’d never accepted any of the capable killers or vigilantes that threw themselves at his feet, begging for his teachings and experience. Until Dick that is. Dick could admit, without ego, that he hadn't ever tried to get Slade’s attention. When they met as Robin and the Terminator, he’d merely been another challenge for the undeterred boy to poke and prod at. But his resilience and defiance in the face of Slade Wilson, to the point of earning success where most men failed instantly, sparked an interest in the renowned killer. It piqued a desire that hadn’t even been there to begin with.

Dick’s status as Slade’s student wasn't just for Slade’s monumentous underground empire. It was for Slade. The man trusted no other with his legacy, his name, his work, or his family. Except Dick. Slade didn't trust anyone else to be physically capable of protecting his children and ex-wife. No one else was as durable to uphold Slade’s criminal empire and company.

Only Dick

Slade trusted only Dick

He trusted Wintergreen with most things

He loved his children, but couldn't leave his professional legacy to them

He cared for his ex-wife, but would never reconcile

Only Dick held every aspect of Slade

Dick was the only person that Slade had ever, would ever put this much effort into. As much as Dick’s stricken heart wanted to, he couldn't even lie and say that Bruce offered him that level of devotion and belief.

Slade trusted him in the same way that Dick trusted his brothers and Bruce. Sure, there were superficial layers of trust and respect broken and gone, but there was a bond formed from certainty that they would always have a claim to.

Dick looked up to Slade, watching him silently. The hallway seemed to hold its breath and wait on Dick’s judgment.

Deathstroke was an awful man. He lied and cheated and manipulated with little care or remorse for how his actions affected the greater universe of innocents and lives yet to be. Slade Wilson was even worse because he was a greedy man who allowed his overly biased and selective morals to dictate the lives around him in a way that most would deem cruel and unfair. There were fewer redeeming qualities in the killer in front of Dick than in each layer of hell and yet Dick couldn't claim the man had none. As much as Dick would like to hate himself and disappear into the floor, Slade had kept him going; selfishly. The mercenary had nurtured Dick back onto his path so that he could claim ownership over the things he desired in life: his family’s safety. Dick couldn't be picky just because it wasn't a moral high ground that had helped him stay the course. Everyone knew that nothing comes free, and it might have cost him more in the end if it were an angel who helped in place of Slade. No, Slade's payments were quiet-silent.

Cobb’s actions would force the Light's hand and sooner or later the Light would make their move against Dick and Slade; and against the world. Neither which, Dick would allow. He had work to do and Slade was correct in that Dick had been too stagnant for too long. He’d allowed himself to take his family’s and friends’ words to heart when he should have smiled and waved, and been on his way, confident in his motives and actions if the end result kept them alive and well. Which it would. Dick would ensure it did.

Without breaking eye contact, Dick stood slowly. Pushing off and up against the wall to meet Slade’s cold, icy gaze. The taller Dick stood, the more than steely gaze softened into a warm grey, prideful and aware of Dick’s certainty. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

“No, you’re-” Dick sighed in aggravation and dropped his crossed arms. He made his way over to where Kris and Ronan were sparring. Dick was overseeing some much needed sparring and combat practice today, but it was mostly for Falcon and Eerie. Wildcat was his team combat specialist so Dick usually had them pitted agaisnt each other and then the winner against his youngest member. After being saved from death row and brought into Deathstroke’s company ranks, Wildcat was quick to rise to the top. His stature offered a unique combination that allowed him to reach without being too gangly, and strength without being too large and slow. The man was quick and relied on throwing opponents off with a strange combination of fighting styles.

Dick had been enthralled to learn how the man fought his enemies and managed to surprise them every time. Only to come to the realization that the man had a severe case of ADHD, which, paired with his extensive fighting style repertoire, enabled him to pull from aikido, kickboxing, kaitwando, karate, judo, and more on a moment's notice. Dick had been both relieved and amazed to find that man’s solution to winning a fight was to not plan out anything. He laughed the first time they met and asked if he could spar with someone of Dick’s choosing, while talking out his actions and thoughts. The man confused himself and his opponent thoroughly, but Dick didn't wait long before notifying Slade that he wanted the shorter man on his personal support team. 

Dick approached the pair who paused in their scuffle. They were both given new take-down techniques with the goal of defending from the other while trying to utilize their entirely new technique to dominate at the same time. A trying task but Dick honestly felt that it was meek in comparison to being pitted against Slade for training. He paused before doing anything, “Jacks,” he called, “Come here” The dark skinned man leaped off the pommel horse he’d been trying to balance on. He turned to the Falcon and Eerie, “Let me know if you can see any differences in what we do versus what you guys are doing”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the approaching third member, “You’re Ronan,” and then promptly attacked. Acting as Kris, Dick attached himself to Jacks’ front, making sure his chest was smothered against his opponent’s arm. While he kept Jacks’ arm immobile, he tried shifting his weight so they fell backward. Jacks was quick and shot out his remaining arm and both feet to catch them before Dick’s back hit the mats. He grunted and shakily tried pulling back and standing up. Dick made himself go limp and act as dead weight, making it even harder for Jacks to balance with Dick hanging off his front.

Jacks tried a multitude of pressure points along Dick’s ribs and earned a few grunts and winces, but eventually, his core gave out and he was forced to slump. The moment Dick’s back touched the mats, he used his legs to throw them over his head and into a mutated sommersault, landing with both men on their backs but with Jacks’ arm still caged by Dick. Jacks grunted and tried throwing his head back while simultaneously snapping back his fist. Dick couldn't avoid both hits so he ducked his head against Jacks’ nape and ate the blows to the side of his head instead. Even Batman had taught his Robins how to administer a concussion early on. The temples and back of the head were prime spots, but the sides of the face and jaw were better for eating the punch if need be.

On one particular swing back, Dick snapped out and caught the wrist. He kept it pulled back and over Jacks’ head in a taunt fashion. Jacks winced and growled, but was severely handicapped from losing both arms.

A few more minutes of struggling passed before Jacks slumped and tapped at Dick’s wrist with his caged fingers. Dick released him with a grin and stood. He watched Jacks as the man knelt and massaged his aching shoulder, wincing when he rotated it too fast. He saw Dick waiting for him and nodded.

Dick turned back to Kris and Eerie who were watching with faint grins, “So?”

Kris nodded, “I was pulling up and not back on his arm,” she replied.

Dick nodded and looked to Eerie, “You were almost spot on but kept letting her trap your arm at the bend. Shift it next time so her thigh is near your wrist or your shoulder”

Eerie nodded, but Kris frowned, “How the hell am I supposed to grapple him with one arm? He can almost pick me up with just one arm”

Dick smirked, “It is a little impossible” he acknowledged, “But if you’re in a situation like that, you’ll have experience and won’t panic at least. That's why I like the pressure points, most people can’t defend against that. But there's really no getting around most men being larger than you”

She nodded but didn't look too happy.

“Come on. Let’s go eat” Dick moved past them and towards the exit. At his back, the team of three looked stunned. It had been a while since Renegade had overseen a team training and even longer since they’d had a meal together. Kris shot them all sharp looks the moment the boys began to linger. She sped up and widened her steps so their team lead wouldn't notice anything amiss. They followed him out and into the hallway. They were the only soldiers on the base who had keycard access to the Colonel’s private quarters and hallways where he, his student, and Major Wintergreen stayed. It was like that at every base unless an emergency alarm was triggered. If that happened, all door locks were disabled as a safety precaution. The Colonel was a strict and severe man, but he wasn't about to sentence his soldiers and staff to death during a building fire just because he desired order among his ranks.

It wasn't long before they made their way to the cafeteria, where most men were grabbing food and sitting down for a bite. The room was nearly packed as it was midday. Most soldiers went out of their way to appear more active and busy whenever they were traveling with Deathstroke or manning a base he was visiting. They stood in line in the back, a polite move that didn't go unnoticed by the room’s occupants. They knew it would be more than acceptable for Renegade to stride to the front and take his pick; he was already demeaning himself by eating with the men in the cafeteria instead of dining with Deathstroke.

Dick gazed around, making sure his features were stoic but not cold. He didn't want to scare anybody, but wasn't in the mood for conversation outside of his team. He knew them, they knew him. He didn't have to put on any polite facades or make small talk to keep them at ease. Beside him, Eerie and Falcon were discussing something, and Wildcat was picking at his nails. Dick liked it though, the ease with which his teammates treated him like a teammate and not a team lead. They stepped forward a little as the line moved and Dick found them closer to the food. The self-serve trays and platters sat under a glass sneeze guard and were lined in reflective sheet metal. Dick allowed his thoughts to wander as he mentally recounted everything he’d have to take care of for the day. He still needed to have a firearm training with his team, but was going to oversee it and allow Eerie to lead it more than anything. He still needed to do a sweep of the base and ensure that every department was on track up to at least the last 2 hours, and then after that, he had a meeting scheduled with the base’s head of amu-

Dick’s heart stuttered as he glanced to his right. He did a double-take and his pulse tripled as he looked at the new person before him. It was a large, foreboding man who stood silently, watching him. His dark hair was incredibly short and hugged his nape, but his face was nearly covered due to a black tactical mask wrapped around his nose and mouth, almost akin to a muzzle. The man’s intimidation bulged beneath a black and yellow operative field suit and had Dick’s hackles rising from the easy way his shoulders and chest bulged with strength. If the man’s waist wasn't as trim, Dick would've assumed the man was on high-grade supplements or steroids.

A quick glance back to the man’s face had Dick frozen in line, wondering why no one else had acknowledged the man. His luminescent yellow eyes dug holes into Dick’s face and tightened his stomach uncomfortably. He turned to Kris, prepared to force someone into action over the danger the guy presented, when he stopped. He watched in horror as the man moved with him, turning to his left as well. When Dick froze, the man froze. Dick didn't move so neither did the man. Dick brought up a slow hand to his cheek and watched as the man's hand mirrored his movements. He reached out to touch the man’s hand, to confirm hi-

“-m right, Ren?”

Dick jerked violently and twisted to where Wildcat was looking at him expectantly. Dick swallowed and looked back to the man only to find his own dark-clad, blue-eyed, reflection staring back at him from the reflective metal sheeting. 

“Ren?”

“What?” Dick forced his attention back to the shorter member.

“See?” Kris snapped, “He doesn't even care”

Dick swallowed heavily and slowly clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, demanding his pulse subside, “I'm gonna grab a table, get me some cereal”

He didn't wait for a response before he stepped out of line and to the left, looking around for a vacant table. He gazed around, allowing himself to relax and calm down. Don’t think about it. This is just more proof that I need to get a gri p. The sooner Cobb is gone, the better.

A shaky hand placed a bowl of dry cereal down in front of him. Dick looked up to find his team joining him with overflowing trays of food. Apparently, his team had contracted a kitchen aid to bring over a bowl of cereal for him, “Sir?” the kid asked in a shaky voice, “I-I can add some milk if you-”

“It’s fine” Dick dragged the bowl closer with a finger and started to pick through it.

“Told ya”, Wildcat teased. The kid gazed at their table with a wide-eyed, bizarre look before scampering away to the kitchen. Kris eyed him like he was a strange child she was humoring.

“Hey Falcon,” a voice called from the table beside them. All heads turned as a brown-haired man leaned back and out of his seat. He patted a few men on their backs as he passed, offering charming smiles and grins. He planted himself in front of their table, between Falcon and Dick, and looked down at her, “So when am I getting that lunch date I was promised?”

Eerie scowled, “She beat your ass. Learn when to take a hike”

The man had very few features that stood out amongst his brown eyes and hair. His skin was tan, and he was physically fit, but bore no tattoos or freckles. Even his smile was placidly middle ground. He frowned at Eerie, “The bet was if I could last more than 15 minutes, I made it to 16. I’m a fair man, I haven't been pushy, but I didn't realize you guys were in the habit of ignoring deals”

Wildcat leaned forward on his hands from where he sat on Dick’s other side, “This is gonna be goooooood”

The man looked to Wildcat with a raised brow, “Why is that shorty?”

“Well, you haven't even addressed our commanding officer, and now you're picking fights with his private team in front of him” Wildcat ticked off his reasons with a finger for reach, “Common sense isn't your thing, is it Todd?”

Renegade’s shoulders tensed, but he didn't reply. Todd looked to Renegade, but when the man continued focusing on his dry cereal, he smirked, “Are we really resorting to names now, Jacks?” a hand slapped itself onto Dick’s shoulder. The table stilled as all eyes jumped to Todd’s hand on Renegade’s shoulder, “I'm sure your team lead taught you better. We can be civil now, yea? I lasted longer than the bet and you said you’d have a meal with me” he spoke to Falcon who wasn't even looking at him. Her attention was locked onto something over both men’s shoulders, earning their attention too. Dick didn't even need to turn his head to see who was capable of silencing a room of rowdy, hungry soldiers. Todd turned and stilled, forgetting his hand still placed on the Colonel’s heir.

Dick looked at Falcon and nudged her foot under the table. She looked at Dick who watched her with a silent, demanding question in his eyes. Her startled gaze softened slightly, although the discomfort didn't disperse. She nodded. With Todd still looking to far end of the room, curious, like everybody else, as to why Deathstroke was visiting the cafeteria, Dick moved. He stood up and dislodged the hand on his shoulder. Todd wasn't prepared and turned back to the table he’d accosted, only to choke and gasp when his throat was seized by Renegade. His hands shot up instinctively to Dick’s wrist, but that only enabled Dick more to twist and slam the man face first onto the table. Wildcat jumped before a large, mischievous grin ate up his face. He leaned in and mouthed, “You're fucked”

Todd’s eyes were wide and fearful, caught between wanting to struggle and needing to stay calm beneath the hand of his superior. He choked when Dick didn't let us and instead pressed down harder, forcing his throat to become flush with the table. The room was silent with the exception of Todd’s choking and the creaks of the table beneath their weight.

Slade’s voice broke through the silence, “Renegade. I’m on a schedule. Leave your men to punish the fool. Come”

Dick looked down at Todd with dark static eyes, “Yes Master”

He didn't let up right away, drilling further fear into the man as he waited with partial breaths. He relaxed his grip and withdrew, allowing Todd to recoil from the table and inhale. His hand shot up to massage his throat as he gasped out apologies, “Th-thank you, Sir, I-”

His face violently met the table’s surface one more time, knocking him unconscious. Todd slid off before dropping to a heap at Falcon's feet. Her expression resembled the room’s, but she looked up at her team leader as he finally stepped away, her eyes softer than the rest of the room’s. Very few people could claim to have Renegade as a reliable protector at their back.

Renegade sneered down at the still man, “Make sure I don't see him until I’ve forgotten about his transgressions”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“This is how you’ll make up for allowing your siblings and friends to interfere”

Dick accepted the packet Slade handed him, taking note that Slade’s tone was objective if nothing else; accepting of the fact that Dick had boundaries that inherently conflicted with Slade’s priorities. 

Dick flipped through it tersely, unamused, “What is this?” he snapped.

Slade leaned against the front of his desk and watched Dick, “You'll have to be more specific, little bird”

Dick almost threw the paperwork back at the older man, “The location the-all of it!”

Slade exhaled a quick, silent breath in place of laughing, “This is just a one-time recon mission to ensure that Anatoly’s doubts are soothed. The man is under the impression that our activity is tracked too well by the Justice League"

Dick glanced down at the file in his hand, “So what? He wants a bone thrown his way?” Dick rolled his eyes, “As if that that’ll assuage him. Guys like that are never appeased”

Slade nodded, “No, they aren't. And with his increased level of activity, it’s only a matter of time before he’s dead or sentenced to life in a Russian prison, but” Slade’s tone was light and placating, “This is how you will still the waters in the meantime”

Dick flicked his attention down to his lap and flipped through the rest of the paperwork in a mildly disinterested manner, “Back to Buldhaven, huh?” he mumbled. He made to get up and retreat to his rooms and review the packet when Slade stopped him, “Kid,”

Dick stopped, only turning his head. Slade set aside a folder he’d been holding and leaned back, “I know the focus is Cobb, but don’t worry about everything else. Savage won’t be a concern for much longer”

A warm, settling feeling engulfed his chest at the notion that Slade was looking out for him proactively. He didn't respond at first and chose to watch the man. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in Deathstroke the Terminator, it was moreso the mystery and danger that followed Vandal Savage. The immortal had been too pursuant in his vague interest in Dick, popping up to employ Deathstroke, make deals on behalf of the Light, and more, all while watching Dick in a way that made him feel like he was meeting Deathstroke for the first time again.

Chapter 46

Notes:

Hey!

Here's a new ch. Lot's of dialogue-srry

Dick felt their eyes on him but remained facing forward, taking advantage of the silent second-in-command image Slade had crafted over the last few years. His purpose in Bludhaven was almost over, and everything had gone smoothly so far.

Slade had sent Dick to Bludhaven to oversee the packing and shipment of military-grade flashbangs, detonators, and scopes for Anatoly. Slade had assured the man a discounted rate in exchange for the previous debacle , but it went without saying that only unreasonable men expected perfection when targeted by the Justice League. That said, Anatoly could be scared off by too much vigilante intervention, but so far, the man had stayed invested in his new partnership with Deathstroke.  Dick had only been in town for two days and hated it. He had somehow forgotten the stifling, smoggy air and the poor atmosphere. Without Gotham’s bay and expected winds, it would be just as bad, most likely worse, from all the factory smog and homelessness.

Below him, on the first floor, grunts were packaging and sealing crates of all sizes. Having shown up to oversee the process and completion of it all, Dick had gone with very little contact and even fewer challenges to his authority. Dressed in combat black and Slade’s signature S halving his uniform, Dick was an intimidating sight. He’d found the lead of Antoly’s men on the first day and informed him that their priority would be to package and ship out bombs of any kind, detonators, and scopes, in that order, before leaving him to manage the ground floor technicalities for the remainder of the process.

Dick leaned against the rusted railing at his backside, watching the men move from the back of the warehouse to the exit where vague and unidentifiable delivery trucks sat waiting for permission to leave. He’d felt rather drawn to solitary habits recently. Outside of Slade and his team, he’d had very little energy or patience for others beyond a few brief exchanges. He was grateful that his authority and position allowed him to manage and dictate over others with relatively little conversation, for the most part , but knew that he couldn't allow himself to become too introverted. Socializing was one of the best ways to judge others’ motives and behavior, testing them in small ways that other methods didn't allow. Ever since that day when Slade had pushed him over his breaking point, Dick had found it entirely too easy to get lost inside his own head. Despite his thoughts and reflections circling back to the same handful of topics and issues, Dick still found himself falling back into the same cyclical thinking.

If his thoughts weren’t on his brothers and how to handle their intrusiveness better, it was on Bruce and his undeniable judgment, or Slade and how his habits reflected the polar opposite of Bruce's choices. If it wasn't them, then Dick’s head was filled with discomforts surrounding the Light and Cobb, speculating over who could have sold him out to the Court; sometimes even worries over the chips and the obvious threats that its manufacturing posed to Dick. He and Slade both agreed that Savage was the most likely suspect for conspiring with Cobb because of his obvious interest in Dick and his previous funding of the Evolution project through the Board. The connections stopped being as clear after that , though , and Dick found himself stumped. If Savage was their guy, then the what and when were clear, but not the why . He wanted to blame it all on Queen Bee and her spiteful pettiness or even Lex Luthor, but there wasn't anyone with a clear enough motive.

The only thing Dick was sure of was that it wasn’t Ra’s Al Ghul, but even then, he couldn't claim that the Demon’s Head wasn’t aware of what was going on behind the scenes either. Dick felt like he had tried playing cards with himself, only to realize he was actually playing professional Hockey. Too many threats, each with their own weapons and strategies, were coming at him too fast and from too many different directions. If Dick wasn't careful, it would only be a matter of time before he was checked and found himself bleeding on the ice. 

He checked the time before sighing. Slade had promised him he was working to get to the bottom of things on his end, but Dick still needed to stay active and moving to keep up a front of obliviousness for the Light. On the way over, Dick had even seen to one of the few remaining names of Savage’s list in New Jersey.

I need a frappuccino-

“Sir?” Dick craned his neck down to where Anatoly’s lead for the last few days, a man named Ruke, stood waiting for him. Dick nodded and dropped down from the second floor, feeling the looks the action earned him. He could only imagine what kind of rumors and whispers had spread about him. The silent second hand of Slade Wilson, maybe even an enhanced ex-militia man like the Colonel himself. He knew Slade encouraged rumors and disastrous theories about him.

Dick didn't spare Ruke another glance, “I'll check the last van before anyone is dismissed”

He made his way outside to find the last truck waiting. The two men stationed at the back were quick to move aside as Dick leapt inside and started processing the low-level trackers and barcodes attached to each one. He'd watched everything be packed accordingly earlier, but this was just to make sure the crates were firmly closed and locked. He was all too familiar with delivery men thinking they could snag one or two extra items for personal profit along the route. Eventually, Dick nodded and jumped down from the back. He slapped the truck twice and let the men close up the exit doors before starting off . The trucks were all taking different routes to 4 different drop-off locations, just in case there was a tail . Standard illegal smuggling procedures.

He allowed his attention to wander, pulling his gaze off into the distance and down the street. He started at nothing, vaguely aware of the dryness in his eyes as he didn't blink…didn't think. It was calming to allow all other thoughts and responsibilities to dissipate until he was only aware of his body.  The warehouse they were using mildly reminded him of Jason’s warehouse. Red Hood , his mind reminded him. Jason would've berated him for not acting like they were separate people . The building was the same old combination of eroded brick and rusted metal walls from abandoned shipping containers. Jason’s was 2 stories with private offices in the back and a wrap-around second floor that allowed people to lean against the railing and observe the workers and grunts below. Like I just did.

Finally allowing himself to blink, Dick acknowledged how severely he’d procrastinated his latest to-do item. He’d been down for a few days after Slade had pounded him into the walls of the haunt’s hallways, and it gave him more than enough time to reflect; too much time.

He needed to deal with his brothers soon. Bruce too. Sooner rather than later, he needed to draw a line in the sand and let them know where they stood until it was safe to be around Dick again. Until Dick nullified the Light, destroyed Cobb, and learned to control his own body, Dick was a threat to them. His brothers and Dad were judgmental and hard-headed and persistent in all the best ways, but recently it had been nothing but a hindrance for Dick. Slade was right in that fact, although he was glad to see the man acknowledge, yet again, that Dick wasn't willing to budge on their prioritizing placement in his life.

In order for Dick to be successful sooner, and accomplish what he wanted to, he had to distance himself from his brothers and make it clear to them. Dick honestly thought he already had, in all fairness. He’d run away with Deathstroke, he’d berated and rebuffed his family and friends more times than he could count, he’d threatened and nearly harmed some of his old teammates in doing so, but Slade was right about their latest ambush. It was proof that all of Dick’s effort had been for naught. All of his cruel words and derisive actions had gone over their heads. They’d ignored him. Dick knew it was most likely to fuel their dwindling motivation and keep morale high, but he couldn't allow them to get the wrong idea any longer. Slade assigning him a mission in Bludhaven wasn't a coincidence. They both knew the man was lying when he said this was Dick’s chance to recover their business relationship with Anatoly. This was Slade’s way of shoving Dick into the opposition to draw the line between himself and his family. Tough love.

Part of him wanted to resist the obvious opportunity and spit in Slade’s face over the obvious manipulation. The man had to know that things would only be more difficult for them later on down the line if he insisted on this distance between Dick and his family. His connections and loved ones were everything. His brothers and Dad, Alfred, Joey, and Rose, his teammates and best friends, even Wintergreen and Slade … they made up a part of Dick that he knew was crucial to his makings and decisions. Slade didn't know what he was asking for when he made these moves and non-verbally demanded that Dick separate himself from these connections permanently. He wouldn't want Dick then, pathetic and lonely… dependent and wanting for love and attention.

The thought soured his stomach, and Dick clenched his jaw and fists to will the notion and feelings away. He heard the truck start up behind him, and he turned as the last shipment departed. Ruke stood behind Dick, patiently waiting for a sign of approachability. With a sensibility and behavior like that, Dick pondered if Ruke was the only true professional present. The other men reminded him of Jason’s lackeys. Swinging from either end of the spectrum: either cowering and meek or boastingly egotistical and lacking common sense. 

“Sir? I can inform the higher-ups of the shipment's departure. I have my men tracking the various routes so we’ll know when they arrive too”

Not mentioning Antoly’s name out loud, the guy was definitely a past operative.

Dick nodded, “Good. I’ll expect updates on any delays, reasons, and ETA as well”

Ruke nodded, looking slightly surprised at Dick’s hands-off method, “Of course, Sir. I’ll start handling the remaining men and wrapping up here. Is there anyth-”

“No,” Dick cut him off, “See to your men. I'll deliver a preliminary report on my own end. I have matters to attend to while I'm on the East Coast, can I trust today to end quietly?”

Ruke nodded seriously, “Yes, sir. I'll have this package closed up and looking as dusty as we found it last week. I'll dismiss the men in the next hour”

Dick nodded, “ Good”

_____________________________________________________________________________

It was easier to find them than it should've been. Dick peered at his brothers’ backs, waiting until one of them felt his attention. He still regularly checked in on his brothers, had never stopped honestly, but still made the effort to keep his distance by assigning one of Slade’s men to keep tabs on Red Hood's businesses, Tim's ventures with the Wayne executive board, and Damian's attempts to build himself a life that wasn't guided by Bruce or Talia.

Rarely would Dick intrude and personally check on their personal lives, as everyone, except Bruce, had taken a large step back. The last he’d seen was that Jason had gotten his AA at an online community college, and Damian had graduated from High School. Dick had sent some extra pens and charcoal pencils as a gift, but Damian had scoffed, assuming that an incorrect Amazon delivery had made its way to their house. As for Jason’s associates, Dick had just preloaded some additional Postmates funds for his late-night binges with Roy.

It had taken him much less time than he’d hoped to find his brothers, but he was pleasantly surprised when he did. He thought he’d have to track them each down one by one or settle for Jason, but that wasn't the case. Dick watched them from the rooftop directly behind. All 3 of his brothers sat above Dick’s favorite burger joint. It wasn't very far from his first apartment and never closed, making it the perfect greasy stop for late-night patrols.  Jason sat in the center with just enough distance between him not to be touching Tim or Damian. The sight of them in their uniforms during the day brought a touch of amusement to Dick. He leaned back and looked them over with a tilt to his head.

Jason was missing his helmet, looking the most normal in his large leather jacket and gloves. His gloves were covered in grease as he finished off some fries from the bag in his lap. Beside him, Damian and Tim were still adorned in their masks. It had become an easy scapegoat to blame any public daylight sightings on them, on being cos players-as much as Damian was agahst to the idea. Dick appreciated the few minutes he could watch them unimpeded, but quickly grew impatient. He couldn't tell much from staring at their backs, and as much as Dick wanted to procrastinate, he knew Slade wouldn't hesitate to punish him if he returned without firming up the boundaries between him and the heroes. 

As much as Dick loved resisting Slade’s expectation of his own authority, he wasn't in the mood for another lashing or for his brother to take advantage of the lack of repercussions Dick allowed to fall back on them. Even though it took longer than Dick would’ve liked, he was still glad to see Jason’s hand slowly lower, dropping his bag of fries while the other hand reached for his side where Dick knew his favored and smallest handgun was. Dick smirked, “Relax, Jay, it’s just-”

Dick dropped with a split second’s notice as Jason’s gun went off. Beside him, Tim and Damian stared wide-eyed at Dick, but Jason stood there fuming, “Asshole,” he spat, “What do you want?”

Dick looked back behind himself to where Jason’s bullet had taken a considerable chunk out of the stone work he'd been leaning against, “ To not get shot?”

Jason cocked the barrel again. Dick’s hands flew up, “Ok, ok ok, fine”

“What is this?” Damian demanded. Dick shrugged aimlessly. He was suddenly far too eager to give in and procrastinate. Tim watched him silently but in a way that had Dick itching to make a break for it.

Jason didn't allow them to lapse into silence, “What is this Dickhead? What's with the surprise visit?”

“ Noooothin ’ ” Dick drawled teasingly, “Was just in the area-”

“BS,” Jason spat. Dick frowned, sensing the realistic severity of Jason’s animosity. He wasn't sure if he’d found them at a bad time or if something had happened. 

“Fine,” Dick replied. He backed up a few steps, making sure to choreograph his moves. He launched himself over the rooftop and landed on the one his brothers had been relaxing on. Just over their shoulder, Dick knew their favored 2-star burger joint sat on the street below, most likely housing drug deals in the bathroom that had never been cleaned. A smile graced Dick’s lips as he thought back to the first time they’d taken Damian to the burger stop. The bathroom was so poorly kept that it had become second nature for Dick, Jason, and Tim to hold their breaths when in there. 

Damian had backpeddled and fallen into a couching fit, bewildered over the overly acidic smell of ammonia lingering on every inch of the bathroom. It was a smell that Damian had never come across until he started helping Batman dig through certain parts of Gotham’s underbelly. It was a fortunate reminder that Talia had taken steps to shelter Damian in some aspects-as crude as his first 9 years had still been.

“What happened Dick ?” Tim prodded, stepping closer than the others. Dick watched the hesitancy in Damian, mirrored and tripled with some added aggression from Jason.

Dick shook his head, “Nothing, Timmy. I wasn’t lying. I just finished something up and figured I’d do a sweep of the area. You guys were pretty easy to find”

“We’re not the ones hiding,” Jason returned.

Dick nodded with a patient smile, “You're right, Little Wing”

“But everything is fine?” Tim insisted.

Dick nodded, “I'm all good,” he reassured. He knew Tim was worried that Dick had faced grave repercussions for the ambushed mission in Eastern Europe. He could only imagine what Roy and Jason had been told when everyone returned. You're not here for that, idiot.  Dick hadn't been expecting anything but a warm welcome, and his surprise over something that should have been a relief, or at least expected, pissed him off. He should be glad to see Damian relying on Jason for ques instead of him. He should be glad to see Jason watching him like the enemy he’d been trying to present himself as.

He was finally getting what he wanted-and it pissed him off so much.

“On another mission for that old perv?” Jason sneered, “Or are you doing something for the Light? I keep forgetting how many masters you have these days”

Dick knew it wouldn't be fulfilling to get his way, but it made him feel 16 all over again. Like Jason was mad at everyone and everything, and every time he took it out on Dick instead of Bruce, it ended in a scuffle that had Alfred threatening to take away their uniforms for weeks.

“Regardless of whatever I just intruded on here,” Dick replied coldly, “I came for a matter that I think we’d all agree isn't a very happy topic”

That didn't improve the expressions of his brothers one bit.

“So Deathstroke did send you”, Tim stated, unimpressed.

Dick shook his head, “No, this is all me, which makes it that much worse, actually” he noticed the way Damian's face started to crumble behind his domino mask and rushed the words, “This has to stop” he stated.

His brothers stared at him, waiting for more and looking to be at a loss.

“This,” he gestured between them, “This has to stop. I'm serious. I’ve done so much-too much , actually, to keep you all out of harm's way, and off of certain reports, but you’re pushing it. I can’t keep allowing you guys to ambush me and my operations while also getting the benefit of my protection”

Jason scoffed but Dick didn't allow him to interupt, “No, I’m serious, Jay. I don't know if you guys think that you can do whatever you want but it’s gotta stop. You’ve ambushed me on missions, you’ve ruined my operations, put my team at risk” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I'll leave you guys alone after this, I just have to make sure I made myself clear so next time when you look at me like I just kicked a cat, I’ll know that's on you….not me”

Tim looked more concerned than anything, “What is this about Dick? We have a deal with you and Deathstroke to let us in on stuff with the Li-”

“Get real, Timmy,” Dik pleaded, “That barely lasted a few weeks before Bruce resorted to stalking our actions, and you started hacking Slade’s firewalls. We’ve been in some sort of weird frenemies situationship , and you guys are taking advantage of the fact that you know I’ll never let you get hurt”

“You made your choice, Dick,” Jason replied.

Dick looked at Jason, feeling his chest twinge again, “Yeah, I did . And this is me making another. I'm just nice enough to give you a heads up beforehand”

“So you won’t allow us to intervene anymore?” Damian asked. Dick smiled at the way Damian stood tersely, looking similar to a puffed-up feral cat. 

Dick shook his head, “No, I'm not stupid enough to think I could stop you guys from doing what you want. If you put your heads together, it’ll be a little too easy for you to find my locations, much less interject yourselves” Dick waved a hand, attempting nonchalance, “All I'm saying is that you won't get your way when you do that anymore”

Damain balked, “When have we ever gotten our way? We struggle to impede on Deathstroke’s action as it is”

Dick looked at Damian like he’d cracked a political joke out of nowhere, “Are you serious? Or just being stubborn?”

Jason crossed his arms beside Damian and mirrored the boy’s stubborn look.

Dick frowned, “Fine” he ticked up a finger, “You blackmailed me into helping take down Wonder Woman when she went on a rampage” another finger, “You got me punished for failing to complete a mission” another finger, “You had me stupid and oblivious as a kid for nearly a week” another finger, “I nearly killed my teamate because he was following orders and almost shot Damian and Babs”

Dick didn't blink, “Stop while you’re ahead, Dami. You guys have taken advantage of my goodwill towards you, and you've done nothing but make my life harder for it . Your interventions haven't made me want to come home more; they haven't done anything but earn me more clean-up gigs and even worse scrutiny”

Damian looked visibly ashamed, but refused to tuck his chin. Jason glared at him, “Is this you trying to cut ties or some shit?”

Dick returned the look, “No, we all know I couldn't go very long without checking in on you guys or making sure you’re somewhat ok. I think that's why everyone thinks I'm weak”

“We don't!” Damian protested.

Dick rolled his eyes, but smiled sardonically, “You might have another way to label my actions, but the fact that I’ll never retaliate for all that you guys have done should speak for my weaknesses”

He looked back at Jason, “All I'm saying is that next time, ‘cuz there will definitely be a next time, you guys try to throw a wrench in my plans, I simply won’t let you. Tie you up and let you sit by and watch it all, sedate you, there’s a handful of ways I can and will neutralize you”

Tim didn't look convinced, “Look, Dick-”

“No, Tim. This isn't a debate or a conversation. This is an announcement. I'm finally getting close and can’t let you guys fuck it up. As soon as Cobb is gone, then the Court will fall, and then I can focus on the Light and you’ll be safe and I can finally breathe easier-”

“You fucking idiot!” Jason snapped. He cut off Dick’s ramblings, “You think that’ll make us safer? What about when all that is done and Damian gets a busted head from some thug with a baseball bat and a good swing? You gonna go after everyone with a bat? What about when Ra’s Al Ghul starts moving in on his creepy-ass interest in Tim, huh? Or what about when Black Mask gets too comfy and starts tryin’ to kill me again?”

Dick knew where Jason was going with his examples and hated it.

“Your excuse is stupid! Just admit that you finally snapped and don’t see the point in keeping certain low lies alive, or better yet, admit that you’re finally angry enough to take revenge instead of settling for Bruce’s weak-ass version that just lands them in jail each time”

“I don-”

“Bullshit!” Jason cut him off in a yell, “You don't even know what you want, so we’ve become your excuse to keep going! You're in a toxic relationship with Deathstroke, you're in a love-hate thing with Bruce, you can't look at us half the time and -”

“I get it!” Dick yelled. The rooftop quieted until the only sounds that breached it were from the street below and the occasional people along the sidewalk. “I get it,” Dick repeated more quietly. Jason rolled his shoulders and turned away. The leather jacket added a few inches of intimidation, but the danger that his brother exuded merely calmed Dick. It reassured him that Jason wasn't the same beaten-down back-alley orphan that Bruce had adopted. Back then, Jason needed his anger and aggression to act as a shield for him. Now, it was his sword.

“Whatever you say, Dickie” Jason scoffed as he made his way back to his forgotten fries, “We all know this is just you stuck in limbo. You don't know how to moderate yourself and the fucked up situations you keep getting yourself stuck in. We get it, we’ll cool the surprise visits for a while, but not forever”

Damian nodded, “Todd is right, Richard. Even if we did take a step back and respect your wishes, the Justice League will not. Father and the others have an obligation to stop the Light and the Court if they rise again”

“That's not even it, and you know it,” Tim objected. He rolled his eyes, “You guys are so emotionally inept,” he complained, “Look Dick , your reasons are our reasons. We’ll keep following you around because we think Wilson is bad for you. We want to protect you just as much as you do us, so you really can’t blame us for interjecting all the time . It's super hypocritical”

Dick smirked weakly, “Ahh Timmy , I almost forgot why I hated arguing with you. Jason and Damian were always easier to win over”. Tim beamed slightly, but it came across as a wince.

“Listen,” Jason drawled unapologetically, “This is great and all” he flashed Dick an unimpressed, drab look “Thanks for the PSA and all, but we gotta go”

Dick cocked his head, “All three of you are doing something, together?” 

“What did it look like we were doing when you interrupted lunch, Dickhead?”

Dick wasn't convinced, “Lunch in Blud, where none of you patrol. Unless you mean to tell me that Red Hood is inviting Robin and Red Robin over to his only Bludhaven warehouse”

Jason looked ready to spit, “Fuck off. We heard you out so-’

“Ooooh no, Little Wing,” Dick purred, “You think you can brush me off and I’ll just slink away? I'm not stupid enough to think you want to eat lunch in peace”

Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “You literally just said to back off-we’re listening-”

“I think,” Dick proclaimed like Jason hadn't been speaking, “That it would be good to give you a taste of your own medicine before I fuck off, like you requested”

“Don't you-”

“So what’s the deal?” Dick asked Tim and Damian, “What's got Jay so wound up that he’s ok with showing his face around with 2 of Batman’s robins ?”

Jason’s face was bright red and Dick gasped exaggeratedly, “Sorry, I meant mask, not face” he looked to the younger 2, “So?”

Damian looked at Jason, unsure about blabbing. Tim sighed, “He’ll figure it out easy enough, dude”

Jason turned towards Tim sharply, “I don't care if he can figure it out- ”

“But I can,” Dick pointed out.

Jason’s jaw twitched, “I. Don't. Care. If you can find out. I'm not bringing you around my stores or my merch”

Dick shrugged, “Alright, I won't force you to bring me along. I’ll mimic you guys more accurately and just show up”

Jason raised his gun again, “I know you can heal fast, you fu-”

Dick turned around, “I'll give you a minute's head start. 1, 2, 3”

Jason spluttered and looked at Tim, who was failing to find a smile, “He’s just messing with you, Jason”

“He's gonna fucking show up!”

Tim ocked his head, “Would that really be so bad? We're only coming because you know there's a slight chance you'll need backup”

Damian snapped, “We are wasting time anyway. Richard is not an idiot. He will either track us or follow us. He only needs to look into it by tonight. If he comes, he will not be a hindrance like we have been to him, that will only endanger us”

Jason sighed and shoved his gun into his thigh holster.

“Safety,” Tim hissed when he noticed Jason didn't check the safety, “Fuck off,” Jason was quick to reply, although he did flip the small safety switch a moment later. “If you show up, I'm shooting you!” Jason called to Dick's turned back.

“I literally heard everything ?” Dick replied, slightly offended, “It's alright. I'll start over and pretend I heard nothing. 1,2,3” Dick started counting again.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Sir?”

 

…

 

 

…

 

“Sir?”

Still no response. Mac sighed, “Hood!”

Jason lifted his head, “What?” he snapped back irritably. Mac jerked his chin to the 18-year-olds waiting anxiously beside the older man. Jason narrowed his eyes behind his visor, “What?” he repeated.

The shorter kid, a mousey brown haired boy, spoke first, “Sir, the uh-well the guests-”

“Yeah, I brought them. What about it?”

The kid gulped, rushing to find the words and not push Red Hood’s patience any further, “Well, we’re having some trou -”

“Red Robin and Robin are here as backup for an operation that neither of you are going to be involved in”  

The other boy spoke up, his hair and complexion far lighter, “No, Sir-it uh, it’s not that. It’s the other guy”

Red Hood didn't interrupt, so he continued, “He’s not breaking stuff or hurting anyone, but our production is slowing because he keeps asking questions and the men are stopping to answer-”

“And he’s digging through crates and shipping boxes after the guys close ‘em!” the first kid added quickly. Red Hood sighed and dropped his head down in aggravation, “Dickhead!” he barked. The men around him jumped and stilled. Mac rolled his eyes, “Off with you. Do what you can, John will be over to help soon enough”

The kids nodded and jogged away. Dick dropped down silently, only a step or two from Red Hood’s side, “That’s not very nice, Mr. Hood,” Dick teased. Jason was thankful Dick had the sense to play off Jason’s slip of the tongue as an insult and not the crude nickname it was intended as. Jason jerked his elbow back into his brother and heard a painful inhale in return, “That wasn't nice either,” Dick wheezed. Jason looked at Dick, “I told you not to follow us. You followed us. I told you not to fuck with my men or inventory. According to those shit sniffers, you are. Pretty close to strike 3 aren't ya’?”

Dick grumbled and rubbed his chest, “I'm curious. I can't be curious now?”

From across the warehouse, Tim approached, “You better learn to keep those curiosities to yourself before he chains you to a wall”

Dick let loose a quick bark of laughter, “You chained Robin to a wall? For what?”

“How do you know it wasn't Dr-Red Robin?!” Robin threw up his hands. Dick rolled his eyes, but his smile never dropped, “We all know Redrobin has self-control”

“Just because you were put on ADHD meds doesn't mean the rest of us are doomed to weak will,” Robin growled. Dick laughed again, “Hey! Re-”

Jason grabbed the finger that was now pointed at his chest, “Don't. You. Dare,” he snarled lowly. Dick knew they were encroaching on childhood, which was a step too close to Jason and a step too far from Hood. Dick relented, “Ok, ok, sorry”

Jason twisted the finger for good measure before shoving his brother back. He looked over to the others, “Did John get you up to speed?”

Tim nodded and stepped closer, “Yeah, we’re good to go. You might have to do damage control here after, though” he dropped his voice, “Some of them know something’s up or that we’ve worked together more”

Jason shrugged him off, “Doesn't matter. They're my men, my issue. Besides, they won't admit to being secretly relieved to know I've got the Bat's little brats as our backup”

Dick whistled, “Still, surprised”  

Jason glared at him as they made their way to the back room offices, “Sionis is the one encroaching on me. Apparently, our last interaction wasn’t a reminder enough not to fuck with me”

Dick responded lightly, “I know, I know,” he placated, “I'm just surprised he had his men buy up a whole business sector in Blud”

“The lot he bought up was basically abandoned, so it’s not gonna turn heads. Plus, they haven't been very active, which also helps them stay under the radar,” Tim stated.

“I don't care if he’s as quiet as a mouse. That's just more proof that the lowlife’s having his men prep and stock up” Jason's stomps reflected his tone.

“Do you even know what we are blowing up?” Damian asked, “Weapons? Drugs?”

“Doesn't matter,” Jason snapped. He strode ahead and into the office where John, his second, waited. John tipped his head once in greeting to the boys. Jason trusted him to do damage control for him and the gossip that would soon ensue .

“So,” John clapped his hands together, “We’re ready as soon as you are”

Jason nodded. His fingers twitched with the need to tug and mess his hair, but being the center of too many eyes ahead of such a big mission made his helmet feel too large and heavy on his shoulders, “The guys are ready?”

Dick looked back and forth between each interaction . John nodded, “Mac is gonna stay behind and watch the kids and check in with the other stores, but I’ve got 10 of our older guys waiting with the trucks behind back ”

Jason nodded , “ Good” He’d left the cherry-picking to John while he made sure his intel and their target location were correct. He knew Sionis was planning something. There was no way his decision to set up a new warehouse in Blud was a coincidence. He’d had years to expand out of Gotham, but had only done so after he’d failed to buy Red Hood from the Court of Owls.  After the kidnapping debacle, Jason had taken a firm hold of his business and territories again , making sure that there could be no confusion about Red Hood’s vulnerabilities. He’d made sure to push back and overpower Sioni’s men on the streets, but had the message sent to everyone: Penguin, Maronie, Flacon, Two-Face, really anyone.

He needed-wanted to make sure that Sionis hadn't taken his frequent disappearances as a sign of weakness. There was little he could do to explain to his men, or the other crime lords of the East Coast, what his lack of presence meant without revealing his connection to Deathstroke’s right hand. It’s not like I can say sorry, my jackass of a brother is suffering from crippling Stockholm syndrome halfway across the world.  He glanced at Dick from the corner of his eye, glad that his movements were less obvious with the motorcycle helmet in place. Dick stood slightly behind, leaning on one hip more than the other. He stood out, dressed as a professional militia operative instead of a thug or vigilante. He sighed, pushing the thought aside. It nagged at him like a concern would, but he knew there was nothing good about thinking too hard about Dick’s clothing or his statement earlier. 

His brother's actions felt contradictory. If Dick wanted distance, he shouldn't have followed them to Red Hood’s closest base of operations, even out of curiosity. But to contradict that, Dick had made it blatantly clear his reasons why , and that was to protect his family and friends. Jason forced orders out of his mouth before his thoughts could become more disruptive, “Make sure you keep contact with Mac. Have one of the boys watching all the cameras while we’re out too ”

John gave him a frown, “You think Black Mask is luring us out? You out?”

Jason shrugged, “Hope for the best, plan for the worst,” he said simply .

“Should be on a license plate frame,” Dick muttered under his breath. Jason ignored him, “Pack up here and meet us out back. You guys will be driving, we’ll take the rooftops” Jason slapped the table and signalled with his hand to head out.

_____________________________________________________________________________

It wasn't long before they had the warehouse surrounded. Robin and Red Robin had already taken out the camera footage with short-range EMF guns. John had brought a handful of guys he deemed young enough to be capable, but old enough to be experienced. 2 men were left with the truck to stake out the front and the nearest road while everyone else took a different entrance to the warehouse.   Jason allowed John to delegate out their ammunition while he did a cursory sweep of the inside. He wasn’t blind to how Dick had tensed when he heard the plan to blow up Black Mask’s warehouse. Jason didn’t care. At the end of the day, it was purely business to drive out anyone else , but in this situation, it was additionally personal to make sure Sionis remembered he was a threat with connections..

Jason had let him be, believing the man had slunk off to be culled by his failed transaction with the Court, but he wouldn't allow the man any neutral space or peace if he thought he could start moving the moment there were rumors about Red Hood being away more and more.  His men had been briefed on what to do: plant at least 2 explosives along each corner of every room on every floor, with additional detonations at any structural points along the building, like overly large windows or pillars not behind dry wall . Tim and Damian were supposed to be stationed along the rooftops as backup, so as he made his way up to the top floor, he found himself both annoyed and reassured every time he caught a moving shadow in his periphery. He knew Dick would be following either him or his brothers, but as long as he stayed out of the way, Jason would allow it.

The first and third floors were nothing exciting . Storage lockers and packaging for crates and shipping containers. There was no evidence per se , but everything pointed towards Sionis’ men having set up and cleaned the warehouse for their actual merchandise to be delivered and then packaged within the month.

“Fuck’n dirtbag,” Jason muttered. He climbed the stairs to the third and final floor, taking them 2 at a time. The top floor was well lit with the most windows and broken-down office items. Jason peered around, noting the filth and old signs from the previous company. He toed a rusted metal sign that said something about Labor Day deals, but moved on just as quickly. He comm'd the heroes outside, seconds away from claiming they had been proactive and beat Sionis to his own warehouse set up, when something large and black caught his attention. It was a safe built into the wall, perfectly adjacent to where midday shadows fell over the office. Jason had seen office safes before, ones as big as this one, which spanned from floor to head height. But what made this one stand out wasn’t the safe itself, but the lock that had flashed him. It was new. New enough to reflect the light at least.

“Bingo,” Jason turned and stepped up to the safe.

“What did you find?” Tim spoke into his helmet.

“Something worth locking up,” Jason replied.

He heard the window to his left slide open with some effort, “Just break it,” Robin ordered.

“No,” Red Robin argued. The sill cracked and jiggled with force before he heard footsteps start to approach him. Red Robin crouched down beside Jason to watch him work the lock. It wasn’t simple, but it wasn't as overcomplicated as he’d feared. Below them, he heard occasional creaks and movement as his men placed their explosives. Dick joined him through the safe window, soon enough.

“Fuck, I don't wanna pick this,” he complained, “Anyone got a little thumb laser? Pocket laser?”

Dick jerked and earned a few glances, “What?” he frowned. Damian looked like he wanted to speak, but no one said anything .

Jason turned back to the lock at hand, “Fine. I'm shit at this, but we are kind of on the clock here”

Tim took the hint, “Fine,” he sighed. He knelt down , so Jason made way, grinning victoriously. Tim withdrew his own skeleton key and push-click sticks from his gloves. The small, sharp tools were always a must, especially after Dick’s stories as Robin.

Dick trailed around the kneeling pair childishly, leaning on things beside them or back-bending inconveniently close, “Not that I don't get what you're doing, Jaybird, but is this the next best option? Broad daylight attack?”

Jason looked at Dick, “He’s forcing my hand, idiot. He's lucky I didn't kill him after the Court fuck-up”

Dick, still in a back bend, lifted a hand placatingly, “I know, I know. I'm not saying forgive and forget-koombaya and all that. But this won't give you guys peace. Mask will know it was you, and he’ll be forced to respond because this is soooo gonna make headlines”

“Blowing up a building in the middle of the day, gee, wonder why that’d be in the news”

Dick scowled upside down, “Are you trying to force his hand or something? Make your first real attack more justifiable?”

Jason didn't respond as he helped Tim pick away at the pins. Dick scowled and pushed up into a handstand. He waddled around the pair again, “I'm not kidding, Littlewing. If you do this, you shouldn't do it alone” he looked at Damian upside down, “Is he talking with B again?”

“Don't monitor me, jackass,” Jason snapped. Dick maintained his upside-down positioning, “Well then, you should really make sure you have a suitable backup plan because Sionis isn't just gonna let this go. You probably don't have to worry about the other crime lords like Penguin or Maroine. No one is gonna miss Sionis, if anything, they’ll be happy for the territory being freed up. But you need more than just those shitty 20-year-olds”

“My men are fine. I trust them” Dick rolled his eyes, “No, you don't,” he snapped, “I definitely don't. There's gonna be someone who takes advantage of all the chaos and takes it a step too far"

“Dick,” Tim pleaded, “Dont get him riled up. He's a pain to listen to when he’s bitchy”

Jason squawked in offense.

"You know we’ll have his back. Alfred still has access to his trackers, and we still all talk-the old YJ team, I mean”

“Drake is right, Richard,” Damian stated, “We’re capable”

Dick’s face softened, “I know you are Da-”

“Got it!” Tim exclaimed. Dick dropped his feet as Jason stood up and backed away. Tim hopped up and swung open the large safe door. Everyone frowned, “What the fuck is this?”

The safe was empty save for a black metal box. Jason pushed past Tim to pick it up. Every surface ot it was smooth and offered nothing but more polished black. Jason turned it around and felt Dick step up and peer over his shoulder. He rotated it again and froze. There was a timer.

It read 0:08

 

Fuck

 

His collar was tugged back with a forcefulness that choked him violently. The world rotated too quickly for him to act. He saw a glimpse of Dick’s profile and then another of the back of Damian's head. We gotta go, he wanted to say, but his upper back hit the ground hard and unexpectedly forced a cry of shock from him. Something large hit him in a way that didn't allow him a moment to gather his bearings and stand up. His vision was obscured by something large and difficul t. He rolled, and his stomach lurched as the world spun again-or was he pushed? Everything was unexpected, and he couldn't seem to orient himself enough to even tell when something was upside down. “GO!” he heard Dick yell in his ear. I'm trying!, He tried to yell .

The world shook .

An enormous thundering sound rocked his ears and shook the floor he was pinned to. His vision whited out, and it took him a few fearful moments to confirm he wasn't blind, but blinded. Still, he panicked. He jerked and writhed to release himself from whatever large, warm thing was pinning him to the floor. He nearly managed, but whatever was on top of him wasn't pliant, somehow malleable enough to counter his own movements. He was rolled again, but he wasn't even sure if it was the world tilting them or the thing on top of him. He yelled and jerked, still unable to see anything past a bleary whiteness. It wasn't an actual white, but more like those 2 seconds you’d experience as a kid when you looked at the sun long enough to sear your eyes and look away. Everything around him was unintelligible and hot. Really hot.

It felt like experiencing a sunburn all at once instead of waking up the day after and finding the regret on his peeling face and shoulders. He didn't cry out, but the way he felt unable to resist, to act against the rising heat, nearly turned painful, had him gasping in a stunned way. He was surprised and baffled, panicked, and morbidly confused. He clenched his eyes and fists, trying to ride it out since his options of fight or flight had been robbed. He lost a few minutes. Maybe longer because suddenly there was something in his ear, “ -son ”

“-son!”

“Jason!”

Jason jerked and blinked, realizing he could see again. The bleariness had dissipated, but his skin still prickled with searing heat, and his head swam as if his brain was rotating in the opposite direction of his face. He groaned and tried moving. This time, the large soft lump over him allowed the movement. Gloved arms grasped his elbows and hauled him upright, bringing about a pounding headache. He waved away the grasping hands and moaned out every curse word his half-working mind could muster.

“We gotta go! The floor’s crumbling!”

He looked up, more annoyed that Tim was still talking before his words registered, “What?” he said dumbly.

Tim was outraged and in half a panic, “Come on!” he pulled at Jason again. This time, he stood and allowed the leaner boy to maneuver him. He glanced around to see what had kept him on the ground for so long, but all he could see was Damian in the midst of carrying Dick. Being bulkier than Tim, the youngest Robin had dragged Dick up his back and was doing his best to stomp forward and bear the greater weight. Dick’s toes dragged on the ground behind them, but Jason didn't get a good look as he was tugged along. The room was a strange combination of too much darkness and too much light. A thick smoke filled the air, only being broken by the shattered windows and hot streams of sunlight illuminating the quickly shifting smoke. He glanced up, realising the light wasn't coming from the windows, but ht partially missing roof.

Smoke?

Jason whipped round to see what was left of the wall safe. Half of the door hung to the hinges with one bolt, and the outer rims of the wall were blackened in a cartoonish way. Tim pulled him along, noticing Jason’s attention to where they had just held a bomb, “It triggered the rest of the building,” he explained, “ The bombs your guys set. We gotta get out before the whole thing collapses”

Tim pulled him to the window and used his heel to remove any remaining glass shards along the rotted sill. He dropped Jason’s arm and pulled out a grappling hook. He shot up and let it drop to loop around the supporting beam on the rooftop. Tim caught the hook as it dropped before tossing it up with a grunt, knotting it around the large rooftop pillar. He pulled out a heavy-duty climbing clip and pulled Jason ove r. Without a word, he clipped the hook to the grappling hook’s cord and to Jason’s belt loop. He glanced at Jason’s hands, “Good, your gloves aren't shit”

He looked at Jason, and the silent, authoritative way he did so made Jason feel like he was Robin all over again, watching Batman do something for him in the field. With half a mind still processing a few moments behind the present, he allowed Tim to manhandle him out the window and down, “Rock climb,” he ordered simply .  Jason took to the order well, using his feet to propel himself back as he fell fast. His palms and fingers burned, but his gloves kept it from evolving into anything worse. His ass met the round and then his back, and Jason found himself staring up at a burning, swaying building. He scrunched his eyes and cocked his head, wondering if someone was falling, “Watch out, idiot!” Damian snapped from above.

Jason’s eyes went wide, and he scrambled to the side in time for Dick and Damian to collapse beside him. Tim followed soon after, and they allowed themselves to lie there in pain and groaning miserably. 

“What the fuck?”

Tim groaned in agreement before pushing himself up, “We gotta get moving, radio your guys Hood. Who’s ok? Is Black Mask near? I don't know what kind of trigger that comb was connected to”

Jason was cut off from replying when the building towering over them shook once more, and a postponed explosion erupted from one of the already shattered windows, layering them in fine glass shards.

“Fuck!” He made to move, shoving himself up as wood and burning building leftovers started to tumble from the second and third floors. His head was still pounding, and his mind was only half capable. He tripped on a careless step forward and would've face-planted if he hadn't been caught. He looked up, and John was suddenly in his face, his jaw bulging with effort. He hauled Jason up by his arms, but the angle was awkward. He looked to the side, noticing how the men who were left to watch the truck were helping his brothers clamber up. They scrambled up and did their best to sprint, escaping the collapsing building as it spat out every bit of rotten molten inside it could before the floors and walls started to give way.

John threw him against the back of the truck before turning to someone else. Jason heaved in air , realizing that his lungs were only burning because the air was suddenly so much colder and ash-free. He gazed up at the burning warehouse and knew that Sionis had gotten one over on him, on his men. He knew he’d been made a fool and walked right into a trap, made even worse by Jason’s men placing explosives along every critical pillar in the building. Still, he couldn't find it in himself to feel shame or embarrassment, even spiteful anger was absent beneath the confusion and dread. All he could think was, “ Fuck”

He looked forward as his head started to clear and saw a pile of groaning, partially smoldering men in the truck bed. Apparently, John had gotten out the rest of the men before finding Jason and the others throwing themselves out the third window. A greater scuffle and dragging drew his attention back behind him. He pushed himself up on slightly sturdier arms to see John and Tim shouldering Dick’s weight off of Damian.

The youngest Robin's thighs trembled with short, serious quakes, proving how the adrenaline and shock had most likely enabled him to drag Dick’s weight. Seeing his brother up close made Jason realize how wrong he’d been. He hadn't been pinned by anything. Dick had tackled him. 8 seconds. That was all the notice they had. His mind raced to supply and remember what happened-a second or two for them to realize what was happening-another second or two for Dick to throw his brothers across the rooms and then tackle Jason. The severity staggered Jason, and he looked to Tim and Damian, noticing just how much singed skin and soot covered their faces. Half of Tim’s eyebrow was charred and missing, their faces and lips nearly blackened. Their arms and hands were worse. Jason’s detective-raised mind instantly pieced together the ways in which Tim and Damian must have thrown themselves to the floor. Falling into fetal positions and covering their faces and heads as best they could. Damian’s forearms were blistered and red, nearly matching the red of Dick’s original vest. Tim’s gloves had burned through to the skin and stuck to his shoulders and collarbone. How are we not dead? Jason nearly voiced. They were lucky enough that the building didn't collapse before they escaped, or that the explosion didn't throw them out from 3 stories up. To realize that they'd survived and had time to retreat was mind-boggling. The bomb must have been a partial dud, or maybe the explosion was muted from inside the steel wall-safe.

Jason cringed as Dick was bustled forward and tipped into the truck bed. His face was heavily charred and blackened, made obvious by his crusted blistering lips and peeling nose. His torso appeared fine as he was already dressed in well-worn bulletproof tactile clothing, but his glovless hands and arms took the brunt that his padded chest didn't. Dick rolled slightly from the force of the roll, giving Jason a better look at his melted neck. New pulsating blisters littered his skin beneath his shaved hairline on his neck, and the skin from there down to his clothing looked as malleable as hot plato. The plastic and materials on his back were melted and soft to the touch.

Jason threw himself over the edge and into the truck. He made way for Tim and Damian as they lethargically fell over the edge and into the metal bed beside him. He looked at John as the older man passed them and made his way to the driver’s seat, “We’re taking credit for this,” he ordered in a miserable tone. John nodded and took off with a lurch, prioritizing their getaway over their comfort.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Jason wasn't sure how far along into their drive they were when Tim ordered John to change destinations. Jason heard a brief argument before the second youngest finally snapped, “You can take your guys wherever you want, but I'm not about to trust a bunch of back alley 20-year-olds to treat concussions, sprains, and 2 unstable metas. John finally relented and took the truck to the freeway, praying they didn't pass any highway patrol. Their new address turned out to be Dick’s old apartment. His first and final , actually . John wasted little time in assisting them all up to the unit Damian pointed out. With Jason barely able to walk straight, John and Damian half-dragged Dick up the stairs, where Tim kicked the door in and disabled any lingering traps or surprises. John clambered down the stairs 3 at a time before stopping at John’s side, “I'll take the men back and keep them under wraps” Jason nodded, “Keep your walkie or cell on you”

By the time Jason made it up the stairs and into the abandoned unit, Damian and Tim had already spread out. Damian was raiding the kitchen cabinets and searching through any closed drawers while Tim was struggling to sit DIck up and examine him. Tim glanced at him, “Sit down,” he ordered. To Damian, he called, “Lock the door!”

Dick groaned miserably when Tim shined a light in his eyes. He batted away Dick’s hands and incessantly pulled at his collar to keep him sitting upright on the couch.

“Mmmm’ fine”, Dick moaned.

Tim snorted, but he didn't smile, “You can't sit straight and are covered in 3rd degree burns”

“‘S just a sunburn”

Jason watched them from his hunched-over position in the opposite-facing love seat, “The fuckin’ idiot sat on me”

Tim glared, but it wasn't directed at Jason, “Yeah, I can tell from the lack of shirt on his back”

Oh , Jason thought. His body ached and wouldn't let him move without his muscles complaining, but after a moment, he looked more closely at his brothers, “You good?”

Damian tsked from the kitchen, but when no one answered him, Jason pushed himself to his feet and slowly found his way to the bathroom. He found a box of Clorox wipes and dried out baby wipes under the sink. He trickled some water into each to re-moisturize the pads before retreating back to the living room, “Come here Demon ”

Damian pulled a face at the container of dried-out wipes, but Jason tugged him to the couch with little pity. Tim watched with a light face as Jason roughly wiped down Damian’s face and cheeks. Beneath the soot and burned ash, Jason found soft blisters and red skin. He frowned, “You hurt?”

Jason was glad when the kid didn't respond with something sassy to the stupid question. Damian shrugged with a tight expression, “I'm sore, but nothing’s broken” Jason nodded and shoved the wipes into the kid’s hands so he could start wiping down his neck and hands on his own.

“What about you?” he asked Tim. Tim nodded, “Good enough. Nothing’s broken, but damn does everything sting. You? Dick tackled you quick ”

Jason’s eyes fell a few inches lower to where Tim was manhandling Dick. Their brother was slumped over with his head in his hands. His groans and deep breaths were audible, “Hey, fucker”

Dick didn't look up. Jason frowned, “Di-”

“I'm fine,” came the sharp retort. Tim frowned and repeated himself, “Your shirt is burned through, and you should have a concussion from how hard you went flying” Tim looked between both Dick and Jason, “You guys were too close to that,” he admonished, “If you weren't meta, we might have had to take you a hospital right now”

Jason smirked, “Sorry, Replacement. I'll be sure to just know when boxes are bombs next time,” Tim frowned.

“He's right,” Dick mumbled. He lifted his head as everyone turned to look at their oldest brother, “There's no way to know that Black Mask did the exact same thing Jay wanted to do to him”

“I mean, there is kind of a way-they're both crazy drug dealers," Tim mumbled.

“Are you well, Richard?” Damian asked. Dick offered a tired smile, “I am Dami, thanks. Just got a concussion-need a few”

Tim rolled his eyes, “A concussion can take up to a week to recover from Dick. Besides, you have some serious burns on your back and arms”

Dick lifted his arms and blinked down dumbly at the bright red coloring and blistered skin that climbed up his shoulders, “ Oh”

Jason smirked, “At least we can believe the concussion”

A strange quiet overcame the brothers while Dick slowly extracted himself from Tim to sit straighter. Damian passed Tim the box of wipes, and Jason sat back with an exaggerated sigh. Dick slowly brought his arms straight up over his head and winced when the burnt skin pulled taut. He rubbed the back of his head and pushed up from the couch. He rounded the couch and made his way to the bathroom. His brothers watched him go, noting how his shirt was only held together along a thin strip at the bottom of his waist. The rest was gone or melted into the soft redness of his back. He returned shortly and motioned Tim over to him. Tim offered him a strange expression but complied, noting that Dick had a woman’s feminine bag in hand. Before Jason could say something snarky, Dick unzipped it to reveal an assortment of medical items and liquid vials. He took out a small, clear vial and a palm-sized tub. He uncapped the small tub and thumbed out some of the white cream. Without looking Tim in the eyes, Dick brought it to Tim’s face and applied it like sunscreen, “This will help with any scarring,” he explained. He moved onto Tim’s arms and then picked up the vial, “I won’t pressure you, but this will help too”

Tim eyed the lack of labeling distrustfully, “What is it?”

Dick twisted the vial around in his fingers, “One of Slade’s. It’s a diluted version of his healing factor. It’s safe. Will has used it before, just for a quicker recovery”

He chanced a look upward and saw his brothers were sharing a cautious look with each other, “I haven't used it,” he admitted, wanting to be transparent.

“No shit”, Jason laughed.

“You appear to be faring better than Todd, but you were closer to the blast...,” Damian stated.

Dick nodded, “I've been pretty busy. Wasn't very smart to make myself more vulnerable though, espec -”

Dick cut himself off, but Jason finished knowingly, “What? After the mission where both you and that perv were ambushed?”

Dick tried not to squeeze Tim’s arm in his grip. He nodded, “ Yeah”

“How are you feeling? Deathstroke took you before we could speak”

Dick nodded and chuckled miserably, “It was the right thing to do. I wasn't in very good shape for a while after that”

Damian frowned and crossed his arms, “That is obvious”

Tim frowned and rolled his eyes, “He’s been spending too much time with Jason”

Dick smiled, but his eyes didn’t, “ Good”

The quiet descended over them again, but Jason didn't let it, “Answer the question, Dickhead. How fucked up were you?”

Dick took a long moment to respond, “My body recovered before my mind did” He looked everywhere but their eyes as he looked at Damian’s chest, “Come here, Dami. The cream will help, and I promise it doesn't have any Slade traces in it”

Damia’s nose scrunched at the lame joke. “I'll take some of that,” Tim nodded to the clear vial, "If you really think it’s a good idea”

Dick smiled warmly and reached for a clean syringe at the bottom of the bag , “ Just in case this place was ever raided, I thought a tampon bag would be the last thing to get stolen ”, he explained. He swabbed Tim’s arm with an alcohol pad and gave him a minuscule dosage. He applied a small Hello Kitty band-aid with a cheesy smile and then turned to Damian, “Come on, Dami. You'll need the cream at least”

Damian nodded and allowed Dick to tend to him silently. Jason did as well, but he rejected the diluted healing serum, claiming to want more scars for the chicks. Dick smiled and turned to place everything back in the feminine sanitation bag, “Do you need the cream?” Tim asked as he eyed Dick’s back.

Dick winced, “I’m fine. I'll heal…” he paused, “But if you could help me with my shirt real quick, that'll save me some trouble later”

Tim looked conflicted on how to handle removing Dick’s melted shirt. Before he could act, Jason strode forward with a sly look and clapped him on the shoulder, “My pleasure”

“Jay”, Dick warned.

“Dickie” Jason returned in the same low tone. He gripped the shirt over Dick’s shoulder and tugged up in one harsh move. Dick gasped, and his hands flailed to find something to grasp for a moment.

“Todd!” Damian exclaimed.

“He's fine,” Jason rolled his eyes, “I just did like 40%”

“God,” Dick growled. He rolled his neck in aggravation, “Just do it quick, like a Band-Aid”

Jason was all too happy to comply and ripped the rest up and off. Long, thin flakes of red-tinged waifs of skin peeled off with the shirt, and Jason scrunched his nose before dropping the shirt in the corner. Dick hissed at the combination of fresh wounds and cold air, “Need a few before I can put on another shirt”, he groaned. They waited silently while Dick slowly found a place to lean against the counter, putting most of his weight on his lower back and hip, “Do you guys need a ride? Before I head out?”

“You're leaving?” Tim looked stunned, “Like that?”

Dick smiled painfully and shrugged, “Just like that,” he said simply .

“Remember, Replacement, he's supposed to be reminding us that he doesn't care about us anymore and that we should stay out of his business-but only because he cares too much” Jason looked back at Dick, “Did I get that right?”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Say what you want. I came to make it clear, so next time I stop you from intervening, don’t get pissy with my Jay”

Jason frowned, “You're so full of bullshit, it's actually getting hard to humor you”

Dick’s lips twisted and his eyes narrowed, “I'm not fucking kidding”  

Jason snapped, “You keep this old apartment as a safehouse,” he put the word in air quotes, “And you think you can tell us to sit out a fight that involves all of us-”

“This is my fight, Jay-”

“That's all I need for it to be mine then!” Jason threw up his hands and yelled at Dick, “You're so fucing hypocritical it’s disgusting. We never got any privacy from you growing up! You interjected all the time-had to know everything about everything. You can't just start saying the opposite and get surprised when we pull a you” His brother didn't flinch, but he did glance over Jason’s shoulder at Tim and Damian. They stood quiet and resolute while Jason yelled at him .

Dick looked back at Jason, “You’re my brothers, Bruce and Alfred-you-” he sighed, “You're my family and you'll never not be my family, but you need to learn to respect my decisions for once”

Jason scoffed, and Dick’s face lit up, “No! I'm serious, Jason! God, you're so infuriating! You never cared about my stuff when we were kids! You were too cool to care or be involved, and now, when I want you to back off-suddenly you care ?! Just because the world and Bruce have accepted that you're this big, hulking brute, doesn't mean you get to go around trampling everything! If I fucking draw a line in the sand, then you better stay on the other side of it”

Tim scowled, “Dick, your line in the sand isn't very clear ”

Dick became suddenly outraged, “You want a clear line in the sand?” he clenched his jaw, “Fine, how about this?” he stomped over to the opposite wall, where dozens and dozens of sticky notes were still plastered to the eroding brick wall. Dick scratched his hand down the wall and dislodged a majority of them. He took another swipe and more fell. He didn't pause before stomping over to the kitchen and tearing down all the sticky notes that had been stuck to the backsplash above the counter. He scooped up a pile of them and crumbled them into a tight ball of spite. He turned and was about to make his way into the hallway and bedroom when Damian stopped him, “We understand your point, Richard”

“No! I don't think you do!” Dick barked.”I seriously don't know how many times I’ve said that I have a goal and that you’re making it pretty damn hard to follow through with this goal. You-you,” Dick spluttered, “I dunno what it is about me that everyone disregards so easily! You all just ignore what I say and do whatever you want. You don't care that every time you fuck up a mission, I get lashings, or about all the nights I have to sleep surrounded by enemies-”

“Because you're hurting yourself, Dick,” Tim pressed, “You're self-destructing, and we don't want to give in to your wishes and help you hurt yourself”

Dick’s eyes were wide and incredulous, “There,” he said, “Right there. My wishes. Mine!”

“ You-Bruce-everyone ! Needs to stop thinking they know what's best-needs to stop making decisions for me! If I want to fucking run off on some suicide mission, then why not, huh? If I want to break Bruce’s code for my little brother, then why not? You basically have Bruce’s blessings to go be a fucking crime lord and drug dealer!” he turned on Jason.

Jason glared at him in a fuming manner, “You're not an idiot, Dick. You know why. You know why! You're better than all of us! You've kept us on track for years! Bruce would've lost the company to Batman without Robin. I’d still be dead in a ditch or with the Shadows. Tim would’ve been just another rich orphan sob story, and the Demon rat would be some freak killer still in the Middle East!”

The brothers were heated and stood closer than ever. Jason looked ready to take a swing at Dick, “If we can't save you once, what does it say about us? Huh!? Let us help!” he shoved at Dick, who stumbled backward into the kitchen counter. 

Dick was silent as he gaze back at his brothers, “I love you so much” he whispered, “Most families never have to deal with a trauma like ours” he looked to Jason, “You were supposed to be our one tragedy. A death in the family- taken too soon ” he spoke mockingly, “And then you came back, and it was like we could handle anything again. So what if everyone was always pissy and tense-you were home. Life was almost normal ! And then the fucking Court ruined our lives again and…” he trailed off and stared at the floor in a desolate manner, “We could’ve been like Wally’s family….or Roy’s, where we’ve got like 1 or two big issues that we never really address, but then my past showed up and ruined everything again. I’m the factor here,” he lifted his head and watched them all with steel in his eyes, “I don’t know how to make it more clear to you guys. If I'm not around, then the Court isn’t a threat to you, so-” he stopped abruptly and clenched his jaw. He rolled his shoulder, “The Light is making their move soon against me and the world. Their chips are already circulating amongst the top 5% and I’ve got Klarion, Cobb, and Savage to worry about on top of that” he looked back up at Jason, managing to offer an even more frigid look, “I don't care how much I make you hate me, I will not risk you ”

“Now who’s making decisions for others?” Jason sneered. Dick threw up his hands, “Fuck you Jason ”

Jason’s eyes went wide, and a large, challenging grin split his lips, “Say that again,” he advanced on Dick. Tim stepped between them and sent a pointed look to Jason, “Stop. You're gonna hurt yourself more, and that is just so dumb”

Neither brother said a word, so Tim turned to Dick, expecting a reasonable response, but Dick was just as riled up and ready to hit something. Tim frowned, “Don't make me call B”

That got the attention of both his older brothers. They each broke eye contact to shoot Tim a sharp look, “Listen to yourselves! Dick is trying to push us away, which should warrant our attention and concern. And we were all just blown up by Black Mask, but instead of a smart next step, you guys are trying to punch each other?!”

Neither Dick nor Jason looked willing to admit or concede first, so Damian spoke up, “Well stated, Drake. They are being idiots, but I think we can chalk that up to a heavy concussion for each of them”

Dick sighed and pushed past Jason, “I have to get going anyways ”

“Richard…” Dick didn't respond to Damian as he made his way to the hallway closest to retrieve a duffel bag. He pulled out an old Superman hoodie and slid it on with a wince. He stuffed a few more items in his pockets before making his way to the door. He stopped, “I’ll admit, Jason. This does make me think you've got a point”

Jason looked distrustful. Dick shrugged and turned the handle, “Maybe I shouldn't stop with Cobb…with the light. The world isn't getting any better with lowlifes like Sionis being let off the hook”

“Dick,” Tim warned. Dick smiled and shrugged, “Just a thought. I'll see you guys later”

Chapter 47

Notes:

Hey there! New ch here.

Jason watched Tim and Damian head out, taking the rooftops towards the southwest downtown train station. It would be easy enough to hitch a ride, especially after Tim has insisted they raid Dick’s closet and find clothing to throw over their uniforms. It was almost comical to see the way every jacket and hoodie had Tim swimming in them, while Damian disproportionately fit into the jacket's width, but was left with it appearing too long on his figure.

They’d radioed Alfred to let him know they were all together and fine in an attempt to preemptively get Bruce off their backs. While Jason had checked in with John, they had decided to stay an extra day or two and recuperate in silence. Jason had taken the couch, Damian had taken the rotting recliner, and Tim had claimed every blanket and pillow on the floor between them, claiming that he was the least burned and achy. It had been a strange and solemn, but unifying moment. They barely spoke and spent most of their time on their phones, but Jason hadn't been so relaxed in a while. It reminded him of when he’d come back from Gotham Prep and throw himself on Dick’s bed for a quick nap before Alfred found him and nagged him for his homework and training.

Fortunately, the serum Dick administered to Damian and Tim worked wonders. Their blisters and tender skin faded to a bad sunburn after 24 hours, although still raw enough for Jason to enjoy slapping Damian on the back and shoulders. Unfortunately, John didn't allow Jason more than 48 hours before he radioed him with news and updates.

“We lost one”

Jason withheld the curse he wanted to spit; they would've been screwed without John on that mission, “When did he die?”

“Not sure”

Jason made a face, “What?”

“We missed one. Left a guy behind in the building collapse”

Jason sat down, “Who?”

“Markswood-blonde guy-”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember him,” Jason sighed, “So what? The cops found his body when they showed up? How big a mess are we talkin’?”

“Not sure. I'm doing damage control now, but there's too much up in the air. The issue is that they didn't find a body, Hood”

Jason sat straighter, “What?”

He could imagine John nodding in that way he always did when he was more informed than his boss, “We got back and I had the others patch the guys up yesterday, but we did a headcount and no Markswood. I gave it a few hours for our guys on the inside to report a new body at the morgue, but nothin’. I even had some guys hijack a police frequency, but they didn't find a body, and we left with too few”

“Snake?” Jason asked just to be sure.

John sighed, “I honestly can't tell. Never would have pegged him as a turncoat” Jason didn't respond, “Don't get ahead of yourself. We need to confirm before we act. We still got a handful of guys down for the next few months. There’s a chance Markswood died in the explosion, and the cops are still digging him out. They just got the city involved 'cuz excavators were needed to really make a dent”

Jason rolled his shoulders like the stress of his brother and his work would just roll off, “Fine”

He bent his neck and raised his shoulder to pinch his phone against his ear as he made his way around Dick’s apartment. No one had touched the sticky notes that Dick had torn off in his tantrum, but they had raided his closet, clothing, and kitchen; although there wasn't much more than stale cereal and oatmeal. He picked up a few items and threw them haphazardly into the closet before kicking it closed with his boot, “How’s Mac and the others?”

“Good,” John replied, “We split the men up so the twerps are the ones helping out at the safehouse and warehouse. I've got the older guys out on the streets and delivering anything we were late on”

“Good,” Jason kicked a few pieces of trash under the couch before moving on, “We’ll look stronger in public for now-put up a front”

“Exactly,” John agreed. Jason closed a few cabinet doors before shrugging on his jacket and making his way to the door. He locked it and double bolted it, “I'll head back to you now, and we can gameplan. Call the guys back and don't let the cops flag anyone down for their little chats”

“Got it”

Jason heard the line click before he stuffed his phone in his pocket. The bike he’d taken to meet his brothers was still stashed around the corner of the burger joint, so he would have to foot it down a few blocks to find it and hope it hadn't been lifted. He hadn't been able to shake his irritation that Dick’s presence seemed to weigh over him. He sighed, imagining Alfred's advice, “Worry about one thing at a time”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jason tapped his cigarette over the metal railing and watched ashes trickle down 2 stories. I should make Dickhead bring me some of the perv’s expensive cigars.

After a few more drags, his fingertips started to feel the heat from the butt of the cigarette, so he stabbed it against the metal railing before letting it drop. He sighed and watched his men below on the first floor. Work had been slow and wouldn’t get any better. Jason’s pockets were already whining at the loss of funds that was sure to come of it, but his ego was louder, glad to have put Sionis in his place and survived his unexpected attack.

He’d taken charge again over the last few days and made some temporary changes. All the newer members, or members younger than 27, stayed at one of his many warehouses while the older, more experienced men were allowed out to take care of business. Any new deals or sales were greatly minimized by fewer men out on the streets, but Jason would rather have a lull in funds than his whole operation collapse. He had to send one man to the hospital with a fake ID and alias, but the others were well enough to recuperate in the back. Once they were well enough to run, Jason would allow them to roam around, but until then, they were only a liability.

So far, there hadn't been any blowback on them from Black Mask’s men or the cops, but Jason was committed to making that last. He was also just as determined to remove all traces of Dick from his thoughts. His brother was an issue that couldn't be solved at the moment, and couldn't be solved quickly, so he’d taken to thinking like Tim recently:

“I know it sounds harsh, but don’t let Dick weigh on you, ok? Just…not yet”

Jason frowned, but Tim was persistent, “I'm serious. We got a lot going on right now, and Dick gave us a lot of information to work with. The Light’s gonna make a move in less than a year, and we know enough to know that would be useful or proactive. I know it sucks to hear, but he's just a mental burden right now-we shouldn't address what we can't fix. Worrying about it won't help you, Jason. If he's in trouble or kidnapped, or whatever, that's another story, but he's working for Slade and taking care of shit, and we need to do the same”

Jason rolled his shoulder and nearly gave himself a cramp from the forcefulness. He pulled another cigarette from his back pocket when suddenly a shout down below turned into a few, and then the whole first floor was shouting and running. Jason dropped everything and stood on high alert. He saw enough people running towards the front hangar doors, so he grabbed the railing and swung himself over. He let his hands drop to the lower bar before dropping to the first floor. He rose from his crouch and sprinted to meet where his men were parading at the front of the large metal doors. As soon as his men saw it was the boss pushing through, they stepped back until a narrow pathway was made.

Mac was at the front of the group, just outside the door. He was bent over something while trying to keep back any peering eyes with an outstretched arm and warning looks. Jason stepped around him, noting John’s approaching figure, “What's this?” he inquired nonchalantly. Mac sent him a sharp look before relaxing at the sight of him, “Nothin’ good, that's for sure”

Mac allowed Jason closer and turned to keep everyone else at bay. Jason knelt down to where a thick cardboard box had been thrown. The edges were punched in, and the outside was reasonably scuffed up. Jason peered up at Mac, who shrugged, “You were just blown up, I wasn't about to open a random box”

Jason smirked, “Fair enough”

He flicked open the top to find something red and round wrapped in plastic, the type doctors used. Jason set his jaw and looked over at John as he approached, “You said Markswood was a blonde?”

John nodded, “Yeah, why?”

Jason gripped the top of the plastic and pulled it up to reveal a flash of matted blonde hair. He turned the head around and wrinkled his nose at the sight of Lucky Markswood's mangled face. His nose was broken, and his eyes were stuck half-lidded. He’d obviously been blown up and probably beaten before his body gave out, at least Jason hoped Sionis hadn't decapitated his man while still alive. The bottom of the knotted plastic bag pooled congealed, syrupy blood that splashed up the sides of the plastic with every movement, “Found him,” Jason said plainly. Didn't live up to his namesake, I guess.

“Fuck” John’s face twisted. Mac’s face paled a sickly green before his nostrils flared with the effort to take long, shallow breaths. He turned around quickly and started to back up the surrounding men with shouts and grunts. Jason allowed him, knowing the sight in his hands wasn't pleasant. His time with Talia and his last year with Batman as Robin had desensitized him a considerable amount to the realities of what flesh did post-mortem. Jason twisted the bag around, watching the plastic twist and turn in sync with the gelled blood. John gave him a disapproving look, to which Jason sighed and relented. He dropped the head back in the box and nudged it back with his foot, “Have someone check the cameras,” he said first, “Then check with all Gotham and Blud morgues and make sure they don't have a headless body”

John nodded, taking note of everything, “You think Sionis stole his head from the cops?”

Jason shrugged, “Not really, but I want to cover all our bases before I move”

John looked cautious, “We gotta game plan before you attack”

Jason nodded, “We will, but this is what we needed to move against Black Mask. None of the other gangs will say anything-Sionis killed out guy first”

John frowned vehemently, “Hood, no. Our man is dead, this is not a good thing, plus Black Mask could be claiming that we framed him any second”

Jason pushed up from his haunches slowly, “Get a grip, John,” he scolded lowly, “You and I both know that there are more men like Markswood than there are you and me. And I don't care if he argues with the facts. We have all the evidence, and we can act. This goes beyond Markswood now, beyond blowing up each other’s warehouses. This is them taking from us in a permanent way,” he grinned darkly, “Sionis just started a war”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jason sighed heavily as he made it home for the first time in days. It didn't feel like he’d been away for very long, but after recounting his stay at Tim’s back-up apartment, followed by Dick’s interuption and their campout at his Bludhaven apartment, and then the following days spent at his nearest Bludhaven warehouse; what felt like a day or two quickly added up to just over a week. With Lincoln captive in the Watchtower, Jason didn't have a stalker to worry about on his trek home, although with the new threat of Sionis at hand, he did make a couple of false rounds around the neighborhood and over a random rooftop before making it to his place.

As competent and ruthless as Black Mask’s men could be, none of them were meta and capable of tracking Jason over rooftops. His hand was barely on the door when he sensed it. The something that Batman always encouraged in his Robins. The tingling in the back of his senses that drove him endlessly mad after the pit had him surviving off of 2 memories and endless rage. It was the 6th sense that every good vigilante had. Something was wrong. Someone was in his apartment. With one eye on the door, Jason made his movement as quietly as a mouse. He released the doorknob and leaned back. He pulled his comm from his pocket and pressed his emergency alert button, and reached for his phone a near second later. Certain that there was an ambush from Black Mask waiting in his apartment, Jason messaged 911 to John and Mac.

Certain that Barbara would send Bruce or Tim to him sooner than his own men would make it on foot, Jason stepped forward, intent on confirming who or what was waiting for him. God, I hope it’s Replacement, and not the old man.

Jason tightened the chin strap of his helmet before smoothly pulling his gun from his waist. He pressed the barrel of the door at just the height Jason remembered looking Sionis in the eyes. He slowly pushed down and forward, ignoring the creak. As soon as there was room, Jason nudged the door open and led with his pistol’s barrel. He stepped forward and darted his gaze to all the critical points of the room. The window on the right was clear, and the kitchen was unoccupied. No one sat tauntingly on his ratted sofa, and his bedroom door was still closed. Jason mentally swore, realizing that his guest was hiding from him. He dropped his chin and accepted the challenge.

Prowling forward, he made sure to smooth every step of his boot with a heel-to-toe movement. He edged around the kitchen counter to confirm no one was crouched out of sight before moving past the living room. His window was unshattered, and the 2 rusted locks at the bottom were still in place. Jason maintained his pace and made his way towards his bedroom. The small studio apartment ended there with a simple left turn. Jason eyed the empty bathroom before peering around towards his favorite entrance, the furthest window. He saw a blinking red light on the top right corner, but that only caused his growing confusion to bubble and blister. If that window’s security measures were still in place, who and how did someone break and enter his place? More than that, Jason worried about the why. If it wasn't to ambush or kill him, why would anyone break in? He made sure not to draw attention from the crackheads in the neighborhood, so there was no way this was a coincidental civilian getting too nosy. More than anything, Jason trusted his gut. Someone was, or had been, in his place.

He eyed his bedroom, doubt whispering that there was no one present, while logic told him he hadn't checked the last room. He leveled his gun again before rearing back and kicking the door open. It swung open and shattered the simple twist-turn lock, but Jason didn't give it a second glance past what was dangling from his bedroom’s ceiling. Eyes wide with every possible variation of stunned, Jason’s arm slowly dropped until his gun fell to his side and nearly slipped from his fingers. Black Mask hung limp and bloodied, mangled in a way that was grotesque. Sionis was hung from his chest and arms, chains knotted and looped around his torso in a childlike fashion. There was no legible knot or clear loop; it was like someone had winged it and then hefted up the body. Jason’s eyes dragged down the man’s body, still on high alert and even more distrustful of the situation. His signature skin-tight mask had been removed to show off a mangled face. He’d been beaten and bruised beyond recognition with a broken nose, two swollen eyes, and a limp, broken jaw.

Jason took a step forward, peering over his shoulder to confirm no one was coming from behind in an attempt to pull off the most bizarre ambush ever. Sionis didn't twitch a muscle, and it almost looked like his still form was hovering instead of hanging. His skin was mottled and bruised along nearly every bare inch Jason could see. Long cuts ranging in depth ran along his body to make way for steady rivers of blood to dribble off his fingertips and chin. Jason eyed the floor and finally took notice of the shoulder-width-sized puddle below the thug. It was more than just blood that had congealed beneath the man.

With Jason’s eyes, now southward, he noticed a darker patch along the man’s pants and wondered if he’d actually pissed himself in fear of whoever had done this to him. Jason took a step closer and took a shallow sniff, but he didn't smell any ammonia. His eyes dropped down to the large pool of blood and then shot back up to Sionis' crotch, “Holy shit,” he breathed. Someone had made Black Mask into a eunich.

Now only a few feet away, he studied the man closer, looking for clues. There was a dark yellow piece of paper sticking out from inside his long coat, so Jason slowly reached for it. He unfolded a small sticky note to find familiar handwriting.

“If you guys aren’t safe and well, then I have nothing”

P.S. No one ordered me to do this.

Ordered was underlined.

Jason wasn't sure how many times he read the note. It was only two brief lines scribbled in a quick, nearly illegible manner. Dickie .

Jason looked back up at Sionis, and the man’s wounds were suddenly much worse, much deeper, and more gruesome. He could imagine how messy and difficult it would've been to corner Sionis, much less take him down and take his manhood.

Jason knew what this was. Similar to what Dick’s actions against the Joker were. A gift.

Sionis didn't so much as twitch or sway in his binds, and the blood dripping from his fingertips and pants legs had slowed, telling Jason that Sionis had been here for at least a full 24 hours, maybe longer, “Fuck, could've gotten the cops called on me if the landlord smelled this shit”

Before he could do much else, his window sensor alerted him to someone outside the bathroom wall, “Fuck” Jason realized Tim had arrived, maybe more. He backpeddled out just as Tim came crashing around the corner, Barbara, Wally, and Damian at his back.

“Fuck!” Jason barked out. They stopped inches from headbutting, and Tim threw up his hands, “So? What's the issue?”

Barbra looked around cautiously, “Yeah,” She agreed, “You've never actually hit your panic button unless someone else forced you”

Wally pushed his goggles up and into his hair, giving his bright red locks a spiked look, “You look fine”

Jason shot him a look, “That's cuz I am fine”

Tim frowned, “Then why did you press your panic button?!”

Barbra nodded, “It was a bitch to convince Alfred to let us go without Bruce”

“I am messaging Pennyworth now,” Damian announced with an acidic look, “I will inform him that Todd is an inconvenient idiot”

Jason made a noise low in his throat, “The fuck you will-”

“Jason,” Tim stopped them from escalating. Jason sent him a look in return, “It's nothing. Chill out. It was just a butt dial”

Tim tilted his chin in a warning way. Jason felt his eye twitch in aggravation, “Fine. I thought someone had broken in, so I messaged in case”

“In case what?” Wally cocked his head, “Dude, you're meta, and I doubt the Light or Cobb is gonna send some random assassin after just you”

Jason felt his hackles rise, despite the obvious high regard Wally held for his combat skills, “That's literally a good idea, fuckhead. Divide and conquer is a classic”

Wally glared when Tim sent him an apologetic look and shrugged, agreeing with Jason. Barbra peered around the room, noting out of place, “Ok, we're getting off track. Why did you think someone broke in? Who?”

“Black Mask,” Tim answered quickly.

Barbra laughed in a way that held little humor, “I should have known. That's why you guys came back all fucked up, right? You like you’d gotten beat up”

“Try blown up,” Damian muttered. Barbra’s eyebrows shot skyward, “What?!”

Jason shook his head, “Everything’s fine, no one's dead. Now get out”

Tim glared, “No, Babs is right. We’re getting off track. Why did you think someone broke in? Your security system was locked when we came”

Jason resisted the urge to squirm under so many eyes, “It was just a feeling, alright. Get off my back, so what if I'm jumpy after last week”

“Jason, be honest-”

“I am”

“Fine. I'm telling Bruce”

“Fuck! Fine”

“What am I missing?” Wally exclaimed.

“He's hiding someone in his bedroom” Tim set a pointed glare on Jason. Jason returned it tenfold, “That may or may not be true”

Every eye rotated to the closed door at Jason's back.

“Did Sionis message you? Did he send his men?”

Damian scoffed, “Todd does not have the self-control for that. You saw how eager he was to initiate a gang war. Those men would be dead, and it certainly would not have caused him to alert us for aid”

“Awww. I love you too, you little demon spawn,” Jason cooed coldly.

Damian scoffed and sneered back, but Tim was still looking at Jason's door with slight disappointment and expectation, “Exactly,” he said, “So, what are you hiding?”

Jason looked from Tim to the others, feeling the weight of their expectations and curiosity, “Fine,” he groaned. He ran a hand through his hair, “Fine!” he snapped again, moreso at Tim. He stepped aside, “But don't come to me with any questions. I literally just got here and found him ok?”

Tim’s expression evolved into something slightly more concerned and confused, “I don't know shit, so don't blame me,” Jason snapped before storming off to the kitchen.

“Jason, you're worrying me,” Barbara began.

“Good!” Jason snapped and threw himself down onto the couch. The group behind him fell into a strange, tense silence, and he could almost imagine them sharing uncertain looks. Finally, his floors creaked with movement before his bedroom door was opened. He stared hard and stern at the wall across from him as he heard Barbara gasp, somehow increasing the silence in the apartment.

“What the fuck?” Wally's voice was unreadable. He heard more movement and shuffling feet as they closed in on the body. Jason knew instinctively that Tim was leading the group. The second youngest bat was so naturally curious and intellectually challenging of the spaces around him, he was often mistaken for brash and risky when in reality, he was curious. He wanted to know more than he wanted to stay safe. Jason sat forward and let his shoulders hunch forward until his spine and neck protested.

Jason had never really considered it before, not until Tim had pointed it out, but life with Bruce had given the boys a near-perfect posture. Alfred was insistent on calling them out every time they slouched as kids, and Bruce’s galas called for a perfect image. On top of that, growing up with all boys with aggressive hobbies had them competitively fighting to be the tallest, straining for every little inch a straighter spine could provide. Realizing how horribly his mind was wandering, Jason sighed and drew his focus back to a notch in his walls. He remembered it as being his favorite wall to chuck his beer bottles at when desperate for an outlet. He kept half a mind and ear open to the others behind him in his bedroom. Fuck , he thought. I can't even sleep in there now, it’s gonna smell like fucking blood and piss. For a while, Jason sat there. He stared at the notch in his wall and listened to the sounds behind him. No one spoke, no one knew what to say.

Damian was the first to emerge. He threw himself on the couch across from Jason, “Was this Richard?” his voice was too little, too desperate for Jason to say no. He shrugged and avoided eye contact. Barbra followed next, and then Wally and Tim.

Tim sighed with a tense brow, looking more concerned than nauseous. Jason almost smirked at how his brothers were less bothered by the mutilation than the mystery. Tim plopped down onto the soft armrest beside Jason, “What-”

“I just said I don’t kno-”

“Jason,” Tim snapped in a manner that was too similar to Bruce for his liking. Jason sighed, “I came home and knew something was off, so I 911-d Alfred, and then I found Sionis here, like this”

“How long has he been dead?” Wally asked. His freckles stood out against his pale expression. Jason shrugged, “Beats me. I'm not gonna be worrying after the accurate time on his death certificate”

Beside him, Tim shot Jason a sharp look, but let it drop after Jason matched his look in return, “And this,” Jason passed Tim the sticky note he’d pulled off Black Mask’s body. Tim read it once and then frowned. He read it again and again, just as Jason had done. He looked over to Jason with a tight expression, “This was Dick,” he said without looking at the others.

“Fuck…” Wally breathed in a long, drawn-out sort of way.

Barbra looked more confused than disgusted, “But-no, why?” she shook her head, “This doesn't even make sense, seriously. Dick has never interfered in Hood’s stuff before. And he doesn't deal drugs or guns-" She stopped, realizing that was no longer accurate, "

It's not like Black Mask screwed him over-”

“No...” Tim sighed. He rubbed his eyes and prepared to explain their latest mishap fully when Damian spoke, “Todd challenged Richard recently. He refuted his current goals for taking down the Court, and the Light, because there are more threats to us than just those 2 organizations”

Wally threw up his hands, “So? I'm pretty sure we confirmed how fucking stupid Rob has been for like years now. He needs rehab”

Barbra ignored him and sat forward in a way that reminded him too much of Dr. Leslie, “So you told Dick what? What he's doing, and why he’s doing it, is stupid and reckless because his friends and family won't be safe after he takes out 2 crime organizations?”

“Not me,” Tim muttered and sent a look Jason’s way.

“And then he took that to mean he should take out everyone that is a threat to us!?”

“Look, I wasn't trying to convince him to do this !” Jason threw a hand behind himself, “I was just trying to prove a fucking point! Like the demon brat could literally drop dead if some thug bashes him over the head with a bat tomorrow. He can't ensure we’re safe, but eliminating everyone like this!? It's fucking stupid and rude ”

“What did you think would happen?” Damian spat. Everyone turned to eye the youngest where he sat with his head tipped forward. He lifted his gaze in a mean, smoldering manner, “Richard has been driving himself mad with worry. He only came to warn us” Damian shot to his feet with an unexpected ferocity, “He’s being abused and punished for every mistake we cause him, and he still came to warn us! Not to hurt us or stop us. He warned us, Todd. He cares for basically nothing else, and then you went and reminded him of how dangerous our everyday lives are!”

“And then he followed us into a trap,” Tim muttered.

Damian flung his hand out at Tim while staring down Jason with a wide, frantic look, “Exactly! You gave him his next target!” 

“I didn't do shit ,” 

“Jason, just be the bigger person. We all know what he means,” Barbara sighed.

“It's not my fault I'm taller!”

Damian’s face lit up, “That's not what she means, idiot!”

“Shut it, you-”

“Ok, ok,” Wally sat forward, “Listen. You bats all have a really weird love-hate thing goin’ on with each other, but we aren't even addressing the elephan-er-body in the room”, Wally said.

Tim nodded, “Wally’s right. I-” he glanced back towards the cracked bedroom door, “I don't really know what to do,” he admitted, “It’ll be bad either way”

Jason scoffed, “Easy. We leave Sionis on his own doorstep, and when Maronie and Falcone, and the others start asking questions, we tell them that fair is fair. He tried to kill me, so I did the same. The only difference is that I succeeded”

Wally looked troubled by the business-like way in which Jason laid out his plan. Barbra didn't speak, but her lips were thin and firm. Tim looked back and forth before he sighed, “No, I- Come here,” he pulled Jason around the corner and closer to the bathroom, “What are you doing?” he whispered sharply.

Jason watched him with narrowed eyes, “What I need to do. Sionis has been pushing his luck for years. He's lucky I didn't just slit his throat when he fucking bought me” he struggled not to raise his voice.

Tim clenched his fists, “You know that's not what I mean. First off, Damian had a good point, and you need to wrap your head around the fact that you can’t say unfiltered things to Dick. Not until he’s better or back home totally. Second,” Tim retorted quickly, “We both know Sionis isn't dead. He’s close, but he’s not dead yet . If you go through with this and let him die, you’re taking a huge gamble that his second in command, and the others, won't come after you. You're doing more than starting a gang war, Jason”

Jason crossed his arms and ignored Tim’s initial point, “Am I talking to Batman right now?” he asked seriously.

Tim recoiled in offense, “What? No, I-”

“Good,” Jason cut him off, “Ignore everything else. Does Black Mask deserve to live?”

Tim frowned and refused to respond. Jason growled and leaned forward, “The fucker is just Joker with some sanity! He’s worse in some ways!”

“Joker killed you, Jason. Sionis has only ever hurt you, hurt us”

“He and Two-Face nearly beat Dick to death when he was Robin. Batman just got to him in time”

Tim fell quiet and averted his eyes, lightly ashamed he’d spoken without remembering that fact. It had been a legal field day when some nosy press had discovered Dick beaten black and blue in Wayne Manor. It had been one of the numerous times Dick was almost removed as Bruce’s ward.

“Look,” Tim tried again, but Jason cut him off, “No, I’m not helping him. Dick did what I’ve been trying to do for a while now. You're just all bent out of shape over it because you're seeing the results when I would've just dumped him into Gotham’s East Bay. If you want to help him, go ahead. Go ahead and rat me out to B for all I care. But I'm not helping that waste of space. That fucking low life can bleed out through what's left of his cock and-”

“Jesus, Jason. I get it. No, I won't tell on you,” he said in a way that highlighted he was hurt Jason would expect that from him, “Just-ugh, fine, whatever. Just be prepared, this might get messy, and we’re already all dealing with a lot on the cape side of things”

Jason didn't respond, but crossed his arms and stared at him expectantly, “Fine,” Tim replied. He turned on his heel and made his way back to the others. Jason followed.

“So,” Tim began, “Hood’s guys are gonna come clean up and collect, and then they’re gonna move the body wherever they wanna make a statement”

“Actually,” Jason said in a slightly less serious tone. Tim turned slowly and eyed his brother dangerously, “Can't really have 'em all showing up here afterall” Jason scratched the back of his head. Everyone eyed him warily, “This is Jason's apartment, not Hoods!”

“What are we supposed to do about that? Barbra scowled.

“Just help me move the body to my safe house, like 5 blocks away. That's Hood’s place. I can trash it after”

Wally reared back, “No! We gotta report this. It’s a dead body! Plus, the League needs to know-Batman at least…I mean if Rob did thi-”

“But you called your guys here! Tim exclaimed, completely ignoring Wally.

“I wasn't thinking! I radioed everyone expecting to find the fucking Court in my apartment,” Jason snapped back.

“Fine!” Damian stood up, “West, help me-”

“No, no, no,” Wally backpeddled, “Did you see how bloody that was-”

He stopped when everyone turned to him with little sympathy or pity for the state of the body. He pulled his goggles down and slapped his chest to turn his suit darker. He muttered, “You guys are all so demented…” he continued grumbling as he followed Jason back towards the hanging body. Barbra watched them go for a minute before turning to Damian, “You're going to tell me everything you guys did,” she said lowly, “I didn't even know Dick was here!”

Damian squirmed under her stern gaze, “I should help them, and besides, Drake is much more eloquent-”

“Damian,” she wanted, “What. happened?”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Bruce dragged a hand down his face in response to the multitude of papers laid out before him. Barry chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder, “Welcome to my 9 to 5, Bruce”

Bruce looked at him unhelpfully. He was tired and in a foul mood. He’d been looking forward to escaping Wayne Ent. all day and making it home to his sons and Alfred when Barry called him. As much as Tim tolerated him, and Damian and Jason took turns avoiding him, Bruce felt himself craving the normalcy of their presence. Even if he wasn’t included in dinner plans or their conversations, Bruce found it much easier to work with the background noise of Damian's bickering or Tim’s laptop typing.

Barry had been doing extra research for Bruce, outside of the chips and cryo liquid, and electrum’s genetic make-up. He tried calling the CEO as a civilian but hit so many roadblocks, and “He will call you back,” he decided to have Ollie call him, CEO to CEO. Barry had given a brief rundown of his progress on the molecular structure behind electrum and its relation to cryo liquid before updating Bruce on his research for the Light’s chips. Bruce knew there was something more behind the demanding last-minute call, though, and told Barry to get to his point. Barry admitted to another agenda, and told Bruce they should probably meet at Starr Labs, as it was too much to explain over the phone and too sensitive to provide any details or sources.

Barry sat down beside Bruce as he looked over the 50th document, “This is good,” he stated in place of a thank you for the magnitude of research. Barry beamed, “What can I say? I'm a nosy guy. I like to find stuff out” he jabbed his chest with his thumb, "I was voted best gossip in High school, you know?" 

Bruce ignored him and flipped through folder after folder, printouts, and screenshots, one after another. Bruyce sighed, “He’s everywhere and nowhere”

Barry nodded, “Yeah. What surprised me the most was that he applied to Starr Labs”

Bruce shook his head, “Just as a lab technician, but it's not surprising. Leslie vouched for the man. He’s a genius. It was his lax morals and workplace ethics that held him back. Got him rejected. If he were tighter about his behavior, he would've been employed and running in the same circles as Leslie”

“Why are you after Amanik?” Barry asked.

Bruce didn't answer for a long moment, “I'm not sure I am yet, but he’s a loose end that no one seems to be able to account for. His work with Cobb should have been more detrimental yo himself, considering how much of a target Cobb has on his back now”

“So you think he’s dead? If he escaped all these consequences at least. Who killed him?”

“Not dead,” Bruce mused, “Hiding, hidden”

“Same thing,” Barry deadpanned, “You need more coffee”

Bruce gave him a cross look, “The difference is if someone else is protecting him on his behalf. Anyone can hide Allen, but to be hidden, you need to be able to offer something in return. If so, what is he doing for them to make him so worth it?”

Barry sighed, “Good god, this is making my head hurt. Too many hypotheticals”

Bruce scowled and looked up, “You’d make an awful detective. I listed 4 possibilities”

Barry waved him away before he spotted a picture in Bruce’s hand, “Did you see these? He’s probably not dead”

Bruce hummed noncommittally and thumbed through a handful of pictures from streetlight cameras, “These roads are too dusty and their dotted lane lines are hand-painted” Barry shot the man a strange look, “The curb to sidewalk transition isn't tall enough either”

Barry’s brow furrowed further, “So?”

“This photo wasn't taken in the U.S. or Canada. It’s too dusty to be anywhere in South America, but there are still attempts to make the road organized with lanes and curbs. It's most likely the Middle East or Eastern Europe”

Barry cocked his head, “Is this literally how you think all the time?”

Bruce scowled, “I work efficiently”

“Yeah, but you think like a psycho,” Barry mumbled.

“I need to see what VPN links are connected to each picture's print-out. It'll help me confirm what region of the world these are from”

“Well, you already narrowed it down pretty well,” Barry shrugged, “Russia or the desert”

Bruce scowled, “It's the Middle East,” he decided.

Barry threw up his hands, “Then why did you say-”

“I was being technical. We know of no key players from Eastern Europe, so Russia has a lesser chance of being the location he’s hiding out in”

“Who’s in-”

“Ra’s Al Ghul”

“But why would h-”

“I'm not sure yet, but it's a rough connection to the Light, which shouldn't be possible at all since Amanik is a well-educated medical professional from Detroit. He has lived his entire life on the East Coast until Cobb employed him. There should be no way I could connect him to the Light”

“But there is…” Barry said warily. He plucked a spare picture from the pile and looked it over, “Wonder what he’s reading,” he mused unhelpfully. Bruce glanced over and did a double take. He took the picture from Barry and pulled his phone from inside his suit jacket.

“What are you-”

"Leslie,” Bruce greeted, “Do you know who” he looked back down at the picture, “Marishka Leunov is?”

Barry watched Bruce listen intently to the other end of his phone, “This is with regards to the doctor I asked you about”

Bruce nodded and grunted a few more times, “Alright. I might have some more questions, but can you send me anything and everything you have on her? Yes, tomorrow is fine”

Barry leaned over the desk Bruce sat at, “What was that about?”

Bruce looked like the conversation had upset him more than helped, “She’s had a number of run-ins with him in a professional sense,” he said with half a mind. He stood up, “I need to check on the boys. Alfred said they were coming home today”

“Where are they?” Barry inquired.

Bruce looked up, realizing he was speaking out loud, “I'm not sure. Barbra went to go meet them today, but they were off doing something the other day and stayed out at Jason’s overnight”

Bruce started shuffling the papers together and stacking them into a neater pile, “So are you gonna tell me what that was about?”

He frowned, disliking the demand, as polite as it was, “The author from that picture. I asked Leslie if she knew anything about it because her field of focus started out similar to Amanik’s. She said that Marishka Leunov is a leading figurehead for experimental cloning. She hasn't gotten very far because so many first-world countries have animal and human rights that prohibit a lot, but her theoretical books are quite the talk of the scientific community, according to Leslie”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Barry backpeddled, “Like cloning sheep and stuff? Or like cloning half a gene to bring back extinct species? A 2 headed cow is very different from Jurasic park, B-man"

Bruce ignored him and started placing the stacks of papers into his work briefcase. Barry sighed, “Right, probably human or something worse,” he answered himself, “What aren't you telling me?” he asked, knowing the Bat too well. He knew Bruce kept his cards close to his chest.

Bruce halted for a moment before selecting his next words carefully, “Talia attacked the cave a few years ago” Barry nodded, already aware of the incident that initiated Dick going on the run with Deathstroke, “She maintained that she wanted Damian to return with her and would go so far as to kidnap him…”

“But?” Barry egged.

“But her team was far from the best the Shadows has to offer, and she retreated too quickly for it to be a genuine, authentic attempt”

“It was a ruse?” Barry asked, “For what?”

“I have my suspicions she wanted something from us-maybe Damian. I'm not sure if it’s information or if she just wanted us to unknowingly confirm something for her, but I think whatever she learned from her assault instigated her and Ra’s Al Ghul seeking out Dr. Amanik for a separate project”

Barry’s brow broke, “So Ra’s Al Ghul is working with the Light and the chips and something with a crazy scientist from the Court of Owls? Bruce,” his tone alone said enough, they were all fucked if any avenue of their enemies’ plotting was allowed to succeed.

“Expect a call from me tonight. I have more to review before I update you and the others on what this means”

Barry crossed his arms, “I'm not the dullest guy out there, but what could this mean other than another issue or project the Light is working on?”

Bruce was nearly to the door when he answered, “Dr. Amanik was one of the driving factors behind the evolution project. If he’s garnered anyone else’s attention, we need to know before he has the resources available to try again, or something worse”

Barry took the finality of Bruce’s tone and the fact that he hadn't turned from the door as enough of a hint, “Alright. Well, I’ll walk ya’ down and we can talk more tonight. I think Ollie’s out patrolling Star, but he and Dinah should be free to talk. They aren't watching Lian as much since Roy got back”

Bruce didn't respond to the family update as they made their way to the hallway and then left for the elevators. Bruce had barely pressed the down button when his phone rang. He pulled out his phone to see 2 missed calls from Oliver Queen. He answered it to find Alfred on the other end, “Master Bruce, I suggest you hurry home from wherever you are and ensure that all of your banking information and apps are locked or deleted from your phone”

Bruce almost pulled away and gave his phone a strange look, “What? Alfred, what is this about?” From his periphery, he saw Barry idly scrolling through his phone, “Master, Bruce, I understand you have an incessant need to understand all you can, but I am unable to give you the information you want. All I can say is that your phone may be tapped, and that you should return home as soon as possible”

Bruce's stomach flipped in every way it wasn't supposed to, “Are the boys ok? Where a-”

“They're fine, master Bruce. Please do my old heart a humoring favor and return home first. You can ask questions later, as I am unable to provide much at this time”

He turned to Barry only to stop at the other man’s expression. His lips were thin, and his eyes focused on his phone, “What is it?”

Barry glanced up at him, but tension lined his eyes and jaw, “The markets, it’s…you and Ollie and screwed”

Bruce closed in on the shroter, leaner man, but Barry rotated his phone to show the Dark Knight before he could snatch his phone. His small screen had been split between 2 different apps and a Google news report of Fortune 500 stocks. Bruce’s brow broke as he struggled to make a connection between the market crashing on a Tuesday night and Alfred’s worry. Both of the apps were for stock investments, but one highlighted Lex Corp Industries, and the other offered an hour-by-hour status of the market in general. It was a steep red line that stared back at Bruce. Bruce looked back at Lex Corp’s stock health and saw the opposite: a steep upward green line.

Bruce’s stomach dropped, and he knew without looking that Wayne Enterprises and Queen Industries were amongst the billion-dollar companies taking a plunge, “The chips,” Bruce realized. Barry watched Bruce attentively, waiting for more, “Somehow Luthor must have planted the Light’s chips on his closest investors” Barry’s eyes were wide, “God damn”

Bruce shook his head and clenched his jaw, “Must have been at one of his galas or” he stopped, “The investors meeting,” he realized. The elevator dinged sharply, and Bruce spun towards it, “Don't wait for my call. Go find Oliver and Dinah. I’ll call a meeting with the League”

“I can signal an emergency meeting?” Barry offered.

Bruce shook his head, “No, only those of us who are aware of our 9 to 5’s”

Barry nodded firmly, “Got it, you'll call them?”

Bruce nodded, “Meet at the Batcave as soon as you can. Luthor and the Light are making a move. They're acquiring as much funding as possible, and it’s from those chips. I’ll explain more when we’re all there,” Bruce explained at Barry’s confused expression, “Call the boys too. The press will be out looking for Roy and my boys at the very least, but Wally is associated with them publicly; he might be a target for the news too”

Barry nodded, “I'll see you soon. Let me know when you get back. The press might be waiting by your car right now if this is the case” Bruce narrowed his eyes and stepped into the waiting elevator, “I can take care of myself,” he said darkly.

____________________________________________________________________________________

“This won't go unnoticed,” Dinah tried to soothe Oliver. At the rate the broad blonde man was pacing, Bruce suspected he might be beginning to mark a pathway into the stone floors of the cave. Diana had recovered enough to attend their meeting, although she allowed Clark to keep her from in-field missions for a while longer. J’onn’s mental landscape scans had confirmed there were no lingering external influences, so the League had approved her to move forward and continue involvement again. 

Oliver scoffed and sent a sharp look to the ground, “This goes beyond the Light and Luthor, Dinah” Oliver switched directions to space back the other way, “If he succeeds, then this will affect how much I can provide for you, my mother, hell, Roy and Lian!”

Dinah sent him an empathetic look, “Ollie, please. I'm saying there's no way it will come to that. The market crash is all over the news. There will be investigations and-”

“And what?!” he threw up his hands, “No one was held accountable for the great depression! The market has ups and downs. That's literally how it works, Babe”

Dinah frowned, “I know-”

“Ok”, Barry interjected, “We're getting heated and off topic. B-man,” he looked to Bruce, “You said you’d share more when I got everyone here, right?”

Bruce glanced up from where he’d been diligently typing. He pressed a button connected to the desk and commed Alfred, “Alfred, are the boys back yet?”

“I'm sorry, master Bruce, they aren't. Although they did confirm they are on their way back”

Bruce frowned, “They're taking their time” he pressed the button again, “I don't care what you tell them, get them back here asap”

Alfred responded in an exasperated tone, “I will not lie to them, but I will stress that a new development requires their presence and safety, Master Bruce”

Bruce was about to retort when Alfred ended the connection. He frowned before he felt everyone's attention and looked up to acknowledge their looks, “I already have my lawyers looking into how to freeze any more after-hours transactions. I can probably find a judge that will place a longer hold on Luthor’s market shares because of the suspicious circumstances of it all”

Dinah calmed and looked to Ollie, “See? No one is just going to buy that all of these high-ent-worth billionaires pulled out of every Western Fortune 500 company and pooled everything into Lex Corp.”

Diana crossed her legs and arms, “And you think the chips are involved?” she asked Bruce. Beside her, Clark stood hovering an inch or two off the ground, offering the Amazonian a protective shadow. Bruce nodded, “I'm not certain, but nearly everything points to this. Tim and I invaded a private investors' share meeting that Luthor was holding in New York-”

“Is that why you mentioned getting rid of some of your board?” Dinah asked Ollie. He didn't respond but shifted his gaze to his wife to confirm her statement.

“I think his galas were to socialize and vet people who had the net worth and industry access he wanted, and that meeting was the first step in sending those chips out on people. Not to the degree Diana was affected, but a much more subtle long-term influence,” the Dark Knight explained.

Barry whistled, “Don't wanna be them when I wake up to find I’ve transferred like 100 million in assets to Luthor” he leaned back, “I get the point of money, but doesn't Luthor have enough ? This can't just be to fund manufacturing more chips, right?”

Bruce nodded, “It's a broader-scale attack. A smart move on behalf of the Light. Having access through these men and the magnitude of their wealth will give Luthor and the Light more substantial and strategic power. In addition to easy blackmail material, this will give them easier access to governments and more buying power in other markets. Not to mention it will let them hire more manpower for weapons manufacturing”

“Anything else?” Clark asked cautiously.

Barry looked at Bruce, “You're talking about Amanik, right? You think they're buying him out and protecting him?”

Clark looked at Bruce sharply, “Amanik?”

Bruce nodded, “I’ve had Barry look into him. Just to make sure if he was alive and in hiding anywhere. I think the Light, most likely Ra’s, has taken him in, in exchange for his services”

“What would Ra’s Al Ghul want Amanik to do for him?” Diana asked sharply, "The Shadows have a particular preference for the type of work they partake in, and it rarely ever benefits external forces"

Bruce stood up, “I'm not certain yet, but it could be anything, another attempt at the evolution project that made Dick, or something else....possibly. I have minor evidence that he's begun looking into cloning, which the Light already failed at with the genomorphs and Superboy, but-”

“But it's enough to spell trouble,” Oliver finished grimly. Bruce nodded in agreement. Oliver ran a stressed palm over his lower face.

“As much as it sucks to say. I think we can assume it’s definitely one of those,” Barry said, “Dick’s a freakin' powerhouse now, and I bet the Light would love to just copy paste him, and then duct tape those new chips onto ‘em”

Everyone nodded when suddenly the garage doors started to pull up, echoing groans. A set of red, black, and grey motorcycles roared closer and met the garage entrance in seconds. The lights were blinding for a few moments before they were clicked off. The bikes’ engines died down to reveal Jason, Damian, Barbara, and Tim. Barbara was seated behind Jason on his larger, bright red bike.

“Where have you been?” Bruce demanded sharply.

“Wally is right behind us,” Tim said to the Flash, promptly ignoring Bruce.

“Where were you?” Bruce demanded again. All 3 boys and Barbara shared a look, wondering which was worse: admitting to their 2 day war with Roman Sionis, which ended with his death, or admitting to their run-in with Dick, “They were helping me with Hood shit,” Jason responded aggressively. Bruce frowned before turning away. He pulled up a handful of online reports and market sharing apps onto the large monitors. He allowed the young adults to scan the screens. Barba and Tim were the first to realize what was happening.

“There's no way…” Tim said in amazement, “This is so public , the authorities are gonna step in-it looks way too suspicious to have one rich guy survive the rest and be the downfall of everyone else. Plus the rest of the public, everyone who’s not super rich might pull out of Luthor's stock once it looks like he's an insider trader, and-”

“Thank you!” Dinah gave Ollie a stern look.

“But why?” Damian wondered. He was reading through the companies on a quick downturn and knew, from relation to Bruce, who the CEO’s and CFO’s were, “What would incenatize them to give Lex Corp this much money?”

“We think it's the chips,” Clark explained. Barry nodded, “Lexy-poo put a few too many metal friends on his rich friends and is having them think it was their idea to transfer like almost all of their liquid assets to Lex Corp.”

“Will the company be ok?” Babara asked Bruce.

Tim and Bruce both nodded, but Bruce answered, “I've got enough private reserves and uninvested funds in the company to maintain Wayne Enterprises. Worst-case scenario: I send some people on leave before I get this under control”

“That's not even including our trusts and inheritances,” Tim added casually. Barbra looked at Tim, being the least accustomed to having such a financial backing.

“So what?” Jason leaned onto one hip more than the other, “You're just gonna tell your lawyers to try and stop him, and then we go about our day?” he partly looked at Oliver as well.

Bruce looked at his second-oldest with a tight expression, “Get some sleep. We will allow the civilian system to work overnight, and we will tackle any priority obstacles in the morning. There's little we can do without involving the feds, FEC, and more relevant agencies”

“I'll work on pushing out an article on this first thing too,” Clark rolled his neck aggressively, “God, I’ll have to go in early if I wanna beat the Gotham Gazette,” he complained.

Damian scoffed, “They aren't much better than community college journalist graduates”

Clark smiled at the warped vote of confidence, but that only made Damian narrow his eyes and thin his lips. Diana stood up from her chair, “That settles it. We continue on and regroup in the morning, as civilians, and see what the new status of all this is”

Dinah nodded, “I think that's the best idea, and all we can do for now. Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if the FBI manage to place an emergency freeze on Luthor’s accounts after this”

Tim looked over at Bruce, “I wonder if this is actually an accident. It looks too suspicious, which isn't good for Luthor”

Barry laughed, “What? Like Lex actually didn't mean to tell his new slaves to send him all their money?”

Tim scowled slightly, “No! No, like if the chips are malfunctioning. I could see this being his plan over, I dunno, like 3 years. That kind of market crash would be believable, honestly, but literally everything in one day? That's a conspiracy theory, not luck”

“That may be what we come to find,” Bruce acknowledged, “Luthor is advantageous, but he isn't this reckless” Clark nodded, "Lex is a genius-there isn't a lot that happens that he didn't account for"

“Either way. I’m following orders here,” Jason snarked. He moved to pull his key from his stalled bike before making his way towards the elevator in the back of the cave, “I'm getting some beauty sleep because I have to be seen with you losers in the papers again”

“I didn't know Jason still lived here with you?” Barry asked. Ollie nodded, “Yeah, he and Roy got an apartment, right?"

Damian scoffed, "They have like 4 apartments"

Tim rolled his eyes, “We all have apartments”

Oliver seemed to blush, but it was missing the redness in his cheeks. Bruce was still turned towards where Jason had left, “Alfred always cleans the boys’ rooms-has them made up in case”

Damian nodded, “Even Richard's”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Jason bowed his head over the sink as he watched each blood drip splatter against the curved porcelain in a rhythmic fashion. He absently wondered why his blood was leaving his flesh at such a predictable tempo, like a gruesome metronome.

In a numbed daze, he shifted his head so that the blood dripping from his lips splattered in a way that made a larger puddle. The aches pounding throughout his body echoed in time with his heartbeat in his ears, but Jason didn't have the mental capacity to do much more than play with his blood. The AC in his bathroom offered a comforting buzz and further numbed his mind. He wondered if that was why he couldn't remember what had happened. When he thought back or tried to focus, what little mental acuity he had at the moment, he couldn't seem to recall what or who had caused this.

“Don't worry”

Jason jerked up, causing his braced palms to slip against the sink’s edge. He righted himself and looked up in the mirror, feeling his head spin when he spotted a mop of black hair reflected back at him. In the doorway, over his shoulder, a kid watched him with a serene expression. Calm, like the kid hadn't just barged into Red Hood’s apartment. Jason watched the kid’s reflection incredulously.

Who the fuck are you? Was on the tip of his tongue when the kid spoke, “Who did that to you?”

Jason scowled and shifted his gaze to look himself in the eyes. There were bags under his eyes, and sweat spiked his hair along his scalp. His lips were smeared with blood and flaking along his nose and cheeks. He looked back at the kid, suddenly much more alert…much more spiteful, “It doesn't matter”

“Why?”

Jason scowled furiously, “Because,” he spat, "It's always my fault anyway"

The kid shrugged and leaned forward on his toes to peer around Jason’s cluttered bathroom. The shower corner held a family of mold and mildew, and every other tile was cracked or smudged, “That's ok,” the kid said simply, “Bruce will take care of you”

Jason sneered, “Fuck off. I’m not listening to your Bruce peacemaking monologues again”

The kid cocked his head and squinted slightly but didn't reply at first, “He will though,” he said quietly, “Bruce loves us. He doesn't want us getting hurt”

Jason sighed and looked back at the kid to ignore his own bloodied face, “Ok, sure” He may think he cares about his kids, but his only loyalty is to that fucking cowl.

He was so tired, and apparently his subconscious was trying to convince him that Dick wasn't a bad guy. Goddamit, I’ve been thinking about Dick’s stupid choices too much. Now I gotta deal with the guilt trip of seeing him as a tyke?

The kid seemed to want to work with him and looked at his back placatingly, “Well, if not B, then Dickie!”

Jason stopped as confusion overtook his exhaustion. He turned around and removed his eyes from the reflection to really look at the kid. His short, thin stature paired with his mop of dark hair and overly attentive bright blue eyes, “Dick?” he asked cautiously.

The kid misunderstood, “Yeah! Dickie will protect us. Remember when he got detention for punching that kid who bullied us? He’s basically a pacifist, so oooof course he started crying with that shitstain,” the kid boasted. His nose scrunched, and he smirked in a way that Jason had seen reflected back at him far too often. The kid was oblivious to his gaping stare. A hollow pounding sensation seemed to resonate through him, and it felt like his heartbeat was overrunning his senses, slowly breaking way at the ground beneath his heels. The kid blinked sheepishly, registering how blatantly Jason was gawking at him, “What?!” The kid crossed his arms in defense.

Jason didn't answer, realizing hollowly that he’d forgotten what he used to look like.

“Get up!”

The world tilted and the roof shook, but by the next blink, Jason found himself tilted and looking up. His stomach protested at the sudden flip, but he barely had any time to do something about it when he blinked again and registered Damian leaning over him. His dark green eyes were squinted in annoyance and something else-something with more fervor.

“Todd!”

Jason blinked dumbly as he allowed Damian to shove him up to his knees and reorient himself slightly, “What…?”

“Get up! Father caught a 911 call to one of the men that Luthor chipped. The police scanner reported a 657”

657

…

…

His sluggish mind tried to give him an answer, but he couldn't remember if it was a medical emergency or a domestic dispute. Damian must have comprehended his grogginess and groaned loudly, “Come on!”

Tim jogged in, already in uniform, save for his mask, “Go help Bruce, Damian. I’ll meet you downstairs with Jason”

Damian sneered before jogging out of the room. Jason sat up more while Tim turned to him with a knowing look, “This is probably a good example for you to remember not to drink so much before bed”

Jason glared blearily up at Tim, who rolled his eyes and kicked his toe under Jason’s bed. They both heard the muffled clink, but Jason stood his ground, “It's either that or before breakfast,” he sassed, his rasp ruining his point.

Tim smirked, pleased to see Jason struggle to get his bearrings, “Seriously, get up. Matthew Manworth’s wife just made a 911 call about him freaking out on her and their dog”

Jason threw his legs over the side of the bed, “Who?”

“One of the guys from Luthor’s meeting. The one we bombed while you kept Dick distracted”

Jason looked up, feeling clarity trickle in the more Tim spoke, “Fuck” he groaned.

Tim nodded, “Exactly. So get up and meet us down there”

Chapter 48

Notes:

Hey there! New ch here. Let me know what you think

Jason sped down the highway, in line with the Batmobile and Damian's grey bike. Damian had insisted on taking his own bike, while Tim rolled his eyes and offered to ride with Batman. It was late, and Barbara still lived at her dad's place most of the time, so it went unspoken that they wouldn't call in Batgirl unless it was an emergency. By the time Jason made it down to the cave, everyone else was ready and revving their own engines. Batman had pressured them to move quickly and connected their comms to read out the 911 call details and his plan for barging into the police call. According to the Dark Knight’s police scanner, the cops were about 4 minutes out, just 2 minutes ahead of the Bats. Jason listened and tried not to take it personally when it was obvious that the update was primarily for him.

Mathew Manworth, from Luthor’s exclusive investors’ meeting, was the source of the call. His wife had called a half hour ago, frantic and unintelligible. She’d mentioned that she had locked herself and their 2 poodles in her office while her husband lost it on their penthouse. The 911 operator had been unable to confirm her state of well-being past her frantic catawails, but the line was disconnected, and police were then promptly dispatched. The man was friends with half of the men on Bruce's board and even more on Ollie’s. He ran an executive corporate law firm and had holdings in every company worth over $500 million on the East Coast. He was a well-known man, and a powerful one at that. He had connections, wealth, and prestige, but wasn't in the limelight like Luthor or Bruce, which offered a strange level of protection.

Gotham, at 3 am, was as lit up as New York, and offered a strange red blur of color as Jason sped down the highway. He used to love racing Dick down the I-5 south. It was an exhilarating joy to rev his bike and feel the sharp wind biting his cheeks and whipping him in the face. His gaze briefly danced to the lane right of him as he remembered a ghost of Dick’s crazed, high laugh. It was contagious and mischievous, and something that bubbled an equally as delightful sound of jubilation from Jason. He’d never admitted it, even to Roy, but those moments used to make him feel like he was the main character in a movie. Like no wrong was ever too harsh because his story was all about him and his growth. But in that specific moment, he certainly felt like a character high off their own glee. They pulled up to the intersection of the penthouse and left their bikes around back. It was rare to ever see police in such a wealthy area , much less Batman and additional forces. They scaled the building easily enough and found themselves on the top floor’s hallway. Batman, in a way that only the Dark Knight could authentically do, melted out of the shadows and had the police stationed in the hallway startle with surprise.

“B-Batman?!” One officer looked around, doubting his own eyes.

Batman stepped past the cop, “I need to speak to the commissioner”

Another officer stepped forward, obviously a senior as he was stationed in front of 2 external double doors, “What's this about Batman? This is a simple 911, nothi -”

The doors flew open, and he had to quickly step away before he was smacked . Gordon’s temporary replacement, Commissioner Evans, stepped out, “Batman,” he greeted expectantly. Tim smirked, unsurprised to see how fast their arrival had crawled up the line of communication. GPD was very familiar with Batman’s presence, but never the interactions that came with him. 

Batman stepped past the disgruntled officer, “Evans,” he greeted in his gruff voice, “I’ve reason to believe whatever this call is has something to do with a larger case the Justice League is currently investigating”

Evans smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, “Quick to let me know I can’t ask questions, huh?”

Batman didn't reply. Tim stepped forward, “Is Manworth restrained? Unconscious?”

Evans nodded, “We gave him a light sedation, and he calmed down a little too much. Nothin’s wrong with him, so the missus asked us not to transfer him to the hospital just yet”

Tim frowned, and Evans shrugged, holding up his hands, “You know these people. Reputation and all that”

Jason scoffed, “He’s old as fuck. I'd be surprised if he didn't end up at the hospital soon”

Evans eyed Jason, “Hood,” he greeted in a tight voice, “Didn't realize you were working with the Bats”

Jason crossed his arms, “Neither did I”

Evans seemed confused, but Damian stepped forward, “Where is he?”

Evans motioned for them to follow with a nod of his head, “I can let ya’ look as much as you can see, but I’m warning you these are” he rubbed his fingers together in a symbolically financial way, “Kinda people. They pay good and bad people, good money, to avoid red tape-inconvenient red tape. You cross it, and I'll have a new lawsuit on my desk before I go to bed tonight”

Tim nodded, “We understand”

The shorter brown-haired man led them over to where another set of doors opened up to a living room. A spindly, wrinkly woman in a satin robe was dabbing at dry eyes in the corner of the room, and to her left, across a settee, her husband sat slumped against the cushions. A medical examiner was just pulling away with a flashlight when he received Evans' nod to step away, “Give me 10, Hernandez”

Manworth was a bloated man with wrinkles and too much hair. Tim remembered the cat-like look the man held at Luthor’s meeting, but now his brown eyes were lidded and dulled. Age hadn't taken away the man’s broad shoulders or jawline, but he was severely less intimidating in sleep pants with his happy trail visible.

“What happened?” Damian asked.

Evans, half busy with addressing other officers, glanced over, “I'll have my official report published tomo-”

“Not what's on the report,” Tim gave him a knowing smile, “Come on Commissioner …we aren't newbies”

Evans smirked, “Fine, fine” he shoved a single hand in his trousers pocket, “The missuses here woke up to him speaking to himself, and when she tried to figure out what the heck was goin’ on-he freaked. Started throwing stuff and talking about plans and times that didn't make sense” Evans shrugged, “By all accounts, I’d be calling this dementia or a mental break, honestly”

He looked to where Batman was examining Manworth’s slack features, “But this isn't, is it?”

Damian scoffed, “You already know we won’t divulge League business. Besides, you are not the actual commissioner”

Evans winced, “Geez, kid. Way to ruin a moment. It's been a few years now by the way….”

He trailed off as Damian strode away with little interest in what the man was saying. Tim offered an apologetic look, “We’re still working on his social skills”

Evans crossed his arms, “Yea yea, whatever. Your old man, or whatever he is, was giving that excuse for the first Robin yeaaars ago. You're all mouthy ” Tim looked over to where Batman stood, but didn't correct Commissioner Evans' claim that the Dark Knight was their father. Jason’s shoulders rose and fell rapidly in a silent chuckle. He moved away and closer to the couch Manworth was slumped on . Tim disregarded him with a sigh. He turned back to Evans, but the man was already speaking with another officer and pointing to something on his clipboard. Tim frowned, disliking the way his brothers were spreading out so readily. They were supposed to subtly find out what they could, and then make a clean Irish exit. He turned to Bruce, intent on informing him that the others were going wayward under his watch, but Bruce’s attention was on something over Tim’s shoulder. Tim turned back around, only to find Jason returning to their sides. His left glove was clenched.

“What?” Tim questioned.

Jason wore his helmet, but the jerk of his shoulders conveyed his attitude well enough, “What do you think?” He snarked. Tim made sure to temper his reaction, “You found something?”

Batman approached and closed their triangle, making it harder for someone else to come near or eavesdrop, “I just pulled a little metal friend off our fat friend here”

Tim’s eyes bulged, “You just ripped it off him!? Ja-Hood!”

Jason shrugged, “It's not like we can examine the fucker on his couch in front of the cops. Besides, he barely bled, the guy’s basically made of lard”

Tim narrowed his eyes but looked over to the slouched man to see that a small throw pillow had been placed behind his bare neck. Jason leaned down and closer to Tim’s level , “ Don't say I don't think ahead,” he taunted.

Bruce held up a hand the same moment Tim spun on Jason’s with his finger already pointed, “Enough” he cut the argument, “Red Hood, take that back to the cave and call the Flash immediately. He’s been working with Arrow’s lab to study the chip’s and Red Robin’s gum print of their specs” he turned to Tim before Jason could protect being ordered round, “Red Robin, find Robin and send him back to the cave as well. I want you to stay and help me wrap up, but not much longer. See what you can find out from the wife or whoever interviewed her for a statement. I’ll talk to the commissioner, but after that, we need to regroup. This can’t be a coincidence with what has already happened”

“What? The market?” They turned to find Evan glancing at them as he typed something out on his phone. He froze at their stern looks, “Kidding,” he held up his palms in defense, “It’ll be a real hoot to see everyone lose their shit in the morning though. Glad I’m one of the few losers without a house, and no pennies in stocks”

After Damian’s protests at being sent back first were rebuked, the rest were quick to head out and regroup. Jason, who had gladly left first, was already on his way back to the cave while Batman and Red Robin finished up. Spotting his second youngest attempting to speak with the medical examiner, Batman turned to find Evans approaching, “We gotta start wrapping up, and I don't want it obvious that I let you walk into this place, when the press show up”

Batman nodded, “We’re leaving now. I wanted to confirm a few things”

Evans nodded and placed his hand in his pocket, “Talked to Jim lately?”

Batman grunted. Evans nodded, “It’s 50/50, I hear. Even the fancy doctors Wayne’s got him set up with can’t really figure out what’s going on. Heard it was a new cancer. Heard it was a poisoning. Hard to believe much these days”

“Wayne’s doctors are the best in the country”

Evans nodded and shrugged, “Not like they can just ship the guy out of the country for treatment. That little girl of his would be in debt after the first week of treatment in Dubai or some shit….still” Evans posed, “Makes ya wonder what a man like Wayne is doing with all this free obamacare shit. I know everyone thinks he’s a nicer mother fucker than Luthor, but I think adopting all those brats makes it easier to forget a key fact”

The dark knight offered him an expectant raised brow. Evans returned the expression, “He's still a mother fucker. All those rich assholes are. They're different than us. Our troubles are never gonna be their troubles”

Batman turned from the man, having heard enough, only to be saved by Red Robin, making it look as though Batman was expecting him. Before Tim had the opportunity to speak, their comms came to life in a strange crackle of static. Tim frowned and tapped his ear. Bruce waited, expecting Jason or Damian to be checking in, which was strange enough as it was. The sons he sent back were hypervigilant about how their independence was perceived. They went out of their way to avoid unnecessary check-ins and reporting.

“Come on, Alfy, I swear I come with a white flag, ju-”

Bruce and Tim’s eyes locked together in the same split second.

“I'm terribly sorry, Master Richard. You know how thrilled I am that you have returned home. But for however short this visit may be, I know the boy I helped raise”

Dick sighed, “Ok, you got me. I'm not here for breakfast for dinner, but your breakfast sandwiches-the ones with the croissant bread- are to die for”

They could hear the smile in Alfred’s voice, “Thank you, Master Richard. I'm glad my cooking skills have retained a place in your favored references. But I must insist that if you are hungry and insist on staying, that you remain in the cave. You can also inform anyone else mingling out on the grounds to make themselves known as well”

Bruce’s shoulders visibly rose.

“I would hate to have to make multiple trips up and down the stairs”

Dick chuckled, “No, no. It's just me, Alfred. Promise. Don’t worry, I'm here for intel, that's it I swear ” his voice hardened slightly with intent, “But I’ll listen, see?” his voice became slightly more distant and there were more sounds of shuffling and rummaging, “See? I'll stay right here. I won't even touch the batcomputer, pinky promise”

Tim checked his wrist communicator before confirming, “Hood and Robin heard it all. Hood’s pulling up now. We need to go”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick was waiting for Jason and Damian when they pulled up to the cave. They found their brother hanging upside down from the gymnastics bars Bruce had installed for his first ward. He offered them a grin as he finished off a finger sandwich, courtesy of Alfred.

“You guys need to help Alfy clean more often,” Dick said lightly.

Damian crossed his arms, “Pennyworth has more than enough aptitude for cleanliness”

Dick mirrored his sass and crossed his arms, “They why were my bars dirty?”

Damian’s lips twisted, “He can't climb up there! Don't be a fool, Richard!”

Dick smiled and wagged a playful finger, “Seeee. You should be helping Alfred then. What’s next? Am I going to find out my favorite chandelier is dusty too?”

Jason ignored them and strode over to Alfred. Alfred offered Jason a warm look as he removed his helmet and shook his head like a dog, “I can only explain so much, master Jason. I am quite in the dark as to why and how your brother has made a sudden appearance”

Jason took comfort in the fact that Alfred didn't report on his welfare at first. It was a reassuring thing to know for certain that there were some people Dick would never raise a finger against. Jason dropped his chin in defeat, “The one time…the one time I stay the night here!” he turned abruptly and pulled back his arm. He chucked his bright red helmet at Dick with a power that had his twisting his hips and back foot, “You ruin my sleep!”

Dick, who had been engaged with Damian’s abrasively sassy banter, turned to spot the helmet the moment it collided with his face. He yelped as the shock untangled his legs from the still bar, dropping to the mats below. Damian sniffed and looked down his nose at Dick.

“Oh my…” Alfred murmured in shock.

Jason stomped over to where Dick was picking himself up off the mats. He was dressed in a strange combination of casual gear and field-approved wear. His boots and cargo pants seemed mission-prepped, but his plain shirt and lack of a vest told Jason that his brother was considerably unarmed. Still, Jason took a closer look. Dick was looking significantly better than he had post-explosion . Jason was the only one still suffering from bruises and soreness, but he wasn't ready to complain about that since he’d been the only one to refuse any of Dick’s 21st-century healing jizz. His shoulders and neck were still scorched, but nothing that couldn't be blamed on a bad sunburn and slathered in aloe vera. 

Dick glanced up at Jason warily. Jason rolled his eyes and held up his hands to allow Dick to get to his feet, “What are you doing? What are you here for?”

Damian mimicked Jason, “You were supposed to have left. Todd is obviously correct in his statement that your actions and words are hypocritical, Richard”

Dick looked like he was seconds away from offering Damian an admonishment. Jason shoved Dick in the shoulders, forcing him to take a step back, “He's right. You’re such a fucking assholle. Telling us to leave you alone because we’re hurting you in some sort of warped second-hand way, and then you do this” Jason spread this arms, “And just pop up whenever you want” he jabbed Dick in the chest, “It's not right, and it's fucked up, Dick”

Dick’s features grew firmer, colder, “You're right. Which is why I’ll make this quick. I expected to be on a plane, and headed back already”

Back, not home. Jason felt Damian glance at him from his periphery.

“I’ve been issued new orders, and we all know what a good little soldier I am, dont we Jay ?”

Jason didn't give in to the taunt, “Who?” he crossed his arms.

Dick was emotionless, “Who do you think could have me break into the Batcave on a moment’s notice?”

“Why the fuck does Wilson want info from us? He has you”

Dick’s jaw twitched, “That's why I’m waiting for everyone. I'm assuming Tim and Bruce will have more information….no offense”

Damian dropped his arms “Deathstroke sent you to acquire information from us in regards to Manworth?” 

Dick nodded, “I need to know what happened with Mathew Manworth”

Jason rolled his shoulders, “Yeah, not happening. You want us to play by your rules, and answer your questions on your time? Sure”

Dick looked at Jason resolutely, “I'm gonna find out, no matter what, Jason. I figured it would be easier through you guys and that you'd appreciate me taking a more overt approach instead of ambushing him and his wife mid-ambulance transport”

Jason sent his brother a look. Dick cocked his head, “Alright. I figured Tim and Bruce would appreciate my efforts”

“We both know you aren't doing this to convenience us, Dick” Everyone turned to where Tim and Bruce stood at the bottom of the stairs across the room. Jason glanced behind him, realizing they must have parked silently and come in through the manor to avoid an obvious entrance, “You just think we’ll be the easiest source of information”

Dick smiled slightly, “Awww, Timmy. You really think I didn't wanna see you guys? I know it’s only been a wee-”

“I never said that,” Tim replied, “It’s just a little too obvious why you didn't smoke the whole apartment and steal the evidence you wanted. Waiting for us while Alfred fed you seems way more comfortable and easier”

Dick didn't contradict him, but saw the way Bruce had stiffened over their small exchange. He’d glanced at the brothers as soon as Tim cut Dick off. Dick smiled coily, “Am I sensing some turmoil here?”

Bruce frowned and tugged back his cowl, “How badly does Deathstroke need this information, Dick?”

Dick shrugged, “He’s curious…who wouldn't be”

Bruce wasn't buying it, “We both know that's downplaying it. Wilson wouldn't send you here on a moment’s notice just for curiosity's sake,” he paused, “And without that team of yours. He’s too paranoid we’ll do something to keep you here”

Dick accepted the cold statement as a challenge, “And what could keep me here, Bruce? You?” he shifted his heels slightly, firming his stance, “You might be leagues ahead of me, but you’re still human. We all know that you wouldn't last long term against me or Jay….not in unarmed combat at least”

“You overestimate yourself,” Bruce warned, “We kept you home when we found you with a fraction of your mind intact and-”

“I know,” Dick snapped, “I was there ”

“Father is right, Richard. If we went all out, we could incapacitate you with a multitude of methods. That’s not to mention if we concocted anything to blackmail you or delay you from leaving”

Dick eyed the boy, “Damian, we all know that little deal and cooperation have been over for a long time. Don't corner me. Don't make me fight to leave you guys”

“Right,” Jason rolled his eyes, “Because this BS savior complex act is better”

“Fuck you, Jason ” Dick snarled, “So what if it is? So what if this works for me?”

"Boys," Alfred tsked.

“We’re getting off track,” Batman raised his voice, “Dick. What has Deathstroke sent you here for specifically? I haven't seen any evidence of him actually meaning to take action against the Light, and everything points to this being a consequence of Luthor and the Light”

“So, this was the chip?” Dick confirmed. Bruce didn't respond at first, “Come on Bruce . Don't make this harder than it needs to be. Slade wants to know, and he's gonna”

“Like I said,” Bruce repeated sternly, “What, and why, does Wilson need to know about this incident?”

“He's right Dick ,” Tim pointed out, “If Slade sent you here on behalf of the Light, as some sort of weird damage mitigation ” his expression took on a conflicted, pained look, “We can't just give you info. Give us some so we know we aren't hurting the League down the road by allowing you to get what he wants”

Dick allowed some emotion to smear his lips, but it wasn't positive, “Fine,” he made his way over to the batcomputer. He wordlessly pulled a USB drive from his waist and inserted it when Bruce raised his voice, “Dick! Stop!”

Dick reached for the mouse, “I'm trying to do this your way, Bruce. No violence or kidnappings- you should be glad I tried this first-”

He was cut off as Bruce caught his shoulder and spun him around and away from the desk. Dick’s lip pulled back, and he went to shove Bruce away, “Don't push me, Bruce”

Tim approached with a broken brow, “Dick…” he tried warning. He didn't necessarily want to support Bruce, but Dick was the one intruding right now, nearly stealing information. Dick ignored him and shot Bruce a sharp look. The Dark Knight didn't back down, “You're not taking any information, Dick. I will not allow you to syphon off our work and take it back to Deathstroke”

Dick made a sound that was both a scoff and a smirk, “ Our work? That’s rich. When’s the last time you were out with the others and actually doing the ground work?”

Bruce stared back emotionless. Dick grinned maliciously, “It's not like I can't hack you, Bruce. What's with the sudden need for privacy?” he offered a mocking pout, “Or is it just me?”

Bruce glowered at Dick, “I will not have your brothers work to minimize the Light’s actions, only to allow you and Wilson to counter that”

Dick stared him down in a stony manner. His attention slid down to where Bruce still had his bicep, “Let. Go”

Bruce watched him coldly. His look challenged Dick to remove the USB drive and back down first. Dick’s jaw clenched, refusing the silent order. Bruce’s grip tightened over Dick’s upper arm, and Dick jerked, acting first. He pulled back his free arm, hand fisted only to lock up; a stunned expression marring his wide eyes. The room watched in shock as Dick seized, his muscles locked and trembled violently. A rough roar tried making itself out of Dick’s throat, but his teeth were clenched and his jaw was locked, forcing him to ride out the sudden surge of overpowering electricity. Bruce turned to see Tim drop the voltage on the taser he had pulled on his brother. Dick dropped to the floor in a stiff, strangled heap, wincing as the floor dug the taser prongs into his side. Tim jogged over and knelt at Dick’s side to remove the prongs. Bruce knelt beside him, his expression unforgiving every time Dick twitched or spasmed, grunting every few convulsions.

“Damn, Replacement”, Jason whistled. Tim looked up at his brothers and then to Bruce at his side, “I know I just escalated it and made things worse, but we can’t fight. You can’t fight Dick,” he reaffirmed harshly, “As soon as we normalize that, things change between us”

Bruce didn't reply and instead looked down to where Dick was regaining his breath. His muscles were still locked and stiff, but it was unclear how much of the tenseness was due to the fact that Bruce still had his hands on his son’s chest and stomach.

The tremors subsided to shivers when Dick spoke, “Fuck, Timmy,” he groaned, “Feels like I got hit with my own escrima sticks”

Tim cringed and stood up awkwardly, “Sorry Dick . I actually modded this with the same batteries your old weapons used”

Dick hummed and dropped his head down in a thump, “Oh,” he said dumbly, “So I guess I was just stabbed with my own sticks”

Jason smirked and kicked at Dick’s thigh, “You deserved it, Dick. You were about to throw the first punch”

Dick glanced up at Bruce from the corner of his eye to find Bruce already watching him, “Yeah,” he said looking up to Jason after, “I guess I did” a dark, sullen look twisted his lips, but Jason was hesitant to call it shame. Bruce took the statement for what it was. Not quite an apology, but a close admission and claim to fault. Nodding to his odlest, he stood up and removed his hands, allowing Dick the space to stretch and sit up. They watched Dick wince and twist his neck around before rotating his wrists and flexing his fingers. He worked his way down until he sat back on his palms and flexed his toes, pointing his boots forward and back.

Without looking up, he commented, “You should replicate that. It really shuts down the nervous system”

Tim nodded, but didn't reply. Jason stepped forward and stripped until his jacket, helmet, and domino mask had been discarded onto the computer desktop, “So, you ready to tell the truth? I mean I'm not fucked up enough to freeze your ass, but I can sure as hell shoot you and drag you back to your favoriate little closet” he nodded his chin across the cave to where the meta containment cells stood. For a second, he feared drawing attention to where Lincoln was confined in the last meta unit, but when Dick didn't offer another glance towards the cells, Jason allowed the facade to continue. He felt Tim tense too, but nothing came of it, especially since they kept Lincoln sedated nearly all the time.

He leaned back and crossed his arms to peer down at Dick. Dick glanced up from beneath his fringe and shrugged, trying for some semblance of nonchalance, “Sure, why not”

Dick refused a chair and instead dragged himself around in a half circle until he could lean back against the table. He fingered a spare USB drive as he prolonged the start of their talk, “So…..Slade…..”

“Yes,” Damian snapped in a perturbed tone, “We are all quite aware Deathstroke sent you back for information on the 911 call from tonight. What we are obviously asking you to clarify, Richard, is why he did so, and what he wants out of the information we just verified”

Dick leaned his head back and looked up at them with an exhaustion that hadn't been there moments ago, “I mean, we got the world’s greatest detective here. Why should I explain anything at this point?”

Bruce’s lips thinned with displeasure, “You know why Dick”

Dick grinned mischievously, “Oh, are we still not sure if Slade and the Light are best buds still?”

Bruce stepped closer, “You were ambushed and kidnapped by the Court because of something the Light did or didn't do, that much is clear, but what isn't is what has taken place after”

Dick frowned, “I got better. What are you getting at, B?”

“Was the Light not held responsible? Are they claiming Cobb acted on his own?”

“Where did he get the teleportation tech?” Tim added.

Dick looked back stoically, “Like they’d tell the truth,” he muttered, “Besides, what does that have to do with Manworth? And Luthor?”

“So you do know what happened,” Damian accused.

Dick rolled his eyes, “The market crashes the same night one of Luthor’s private investors has an episode? Dami, come on”

Damian flushed, but Bruce spoke over the pair, “Deathstroke just let that go? He’s not a humble man, Dick. He doesn't respect anyone besides himself, but he does hold your reflection of him in high regard”

Dick gave an incredulous laugh, “And I'm not 5 foot 3 anymore. Are we just pointing shit out no-” he paused and furrowed his brow. He lifted his head in realization, “Fuck you, Bruce!”

Bruce glared, “How do you know it’s not true, Dick? A man like Slade Wilson lives his life tactically. There isn't a second that he doesn't plan for accordingly. There can only be one justification for why he let that attack on you go”

Dick nodded and smiled overly cheerfully, “Yeah! Like that one time he asked his wife to divorce him, and then shot out his own eye-oh wait, reverse that”

“Dick!” Tim snapped.

“No!” Dick yelled, “I wasn't lying before-I came here to try things the nicer way, the simpler way, but if you’re just gonna taze my ass and accuse Slade of selling me to the Court-or the Light or whatever-”

“Is there even a difference?” Jason accused.

“I don't fucking care,” Dick hissed, “But Slade was ambushed with me. He died and came back for me-”

“That's just how things played out because we were there to force his hand, Dick,” Bruce stressed, "You're not thinking objectively"

Dick made a high noise of frustration in the back of his throat, “Stop! Stop it, Bruce! You can't convince me of this. Savage and Luthor and Cobb and everyone! Everyone is out to get me. I need someone in my corner,” Damian opened his mouth, “Who won’t try to lock me down and justify it as saving me against my will,” Dick said pointedly. Damian's features deflated.

“Dick, don't be stupid,” Tim stressed, “As much as Slade might be helping you, you know what kind of person he is”

Dick’s jaw dropped slightly, “Oh my god,” he breathed, “How can you be this hard-headed?” his features sharpened quickly, “There’s barely any difference!? In me! In him!”

Jason straightened up with a disgusted expression, “What the fuck are you on ? You're so obsessed with your fucking master that you wanna be like him?”

Dick’s eyes bulged and he shot up, “Watch it, Jay. I'm not the delusional one here. You all are!” he looked around at himself, “Look at us on paper, seriously.. What's the difference?! A divorce? A missing eye?”

“That's enough, Dick,” Bruce rumbled.

Dick gripped the desk’s edge and shakily shoved himself to his feet , “ No! You know what you're doing,” he waved an arm , “ This doesn't even have anything to do with Luthor’s gamble!”

Bruce watched him warily, “So Luthor was acting alone tonight?”

Dick halted, and his breath caught mid-inhale. Realization flitted across his eyes, and he closed his mouth, a slightly humbled smirk in place, “Should've known better,” he admonished himself. He chuckled lowly, “Not like you to ever wanna talk about the obvious problems,” he replied, “Yes, Bruce. This was most likely just Lex”

Tensions ebbed and Dick allowed his exhausted taunt muscles to relax, sliding back to the floor with a defeated, “Oof”. He looked up to find the shoulders of everyone around him lowering slightly. Jason’s and Damian’s brows were less deepened across their foreheads, “But you already knew that,” he said to Bruce.

“Suspected”, Bruce corrected lowly, “It's not a coincidence that Manworth was at the meeting we bombarded, but there's no way to be sure”

“Not yet”, Tim replied. He made his way over to Jason's jacket and slipped his hand inside to pull out the bloody chip Jason had ripped from Manworth’s neck nearly an hour ago. Bruce nodded approvingly to see Jason had taken the part and kept it in one piece.

Dick watched his brother with tired eyes, “That confirms it,” he stated, “Slade wanted me to come make sure this was Luthor’s fuck up and not a move the Light had amde without our know-how”

“So he’s not working with the light?”

“No, Timmy, sorry to disprove your theories about how everyone is out to get me 24/7”

“They nearly are”, Damian spat under his breath. Dick chuckled and eyed his vengeful younger brother.

“This is bad Dick ,” Tim stressed, “If the Light really is keeping you both out of their plans, then you’ll have no way to predict or defend when they make a move against you”

“I know,” Dick shrugged simply , “Savage’s contract was just a way to keep us near, but being closer does give us more insight than none. And at the end of the day, Dick rubbed his fingers together in a symbolic money fashion.

“You've cornered yourself, Dick,” Bruce scolded, “Wilson can't protect you if the Light attempts to use a chip on you or him, and now they’re acting without your knowledge”

Dick shook his head, “Nope,” he popped the p, “This was Luthor. Slade just wants me to get evidence,” he nodded to Tim’s fingers, “Like that chip. From what we can tell, the Light is one big mess of meetings and private comms right now . They're all too pissed and worried to do much of anything right now, and Luthor is half hiding and half attempting to mitigate damage”

Bruce caught his son’s attention sharply, “Why? He initiated this. He had to have been prepared for the fallout”

Dick watched Bruce with scrutiny until Tim sighed at their silent stalemate, “We thought the Light had ordered Luthor to do this to Manworth because they were gearing up for something and needed a lot of funds to ensure it happened with little delay. Like a lot of funds”

Dick’s expression softened and he chuckled, “No,” he admitted, “This is actually an accident, Luthor intended to have everyone he infected at that meeting transfer funds to Lex Corp. Just a little,” he explained, “To test the chips’ control and to bolster his own market share, but something happened. That's also why I’m here. It’s not clear if Luthor fucked up his order to the chips, or if there’s something wrong with the chips. There are too many unanswered questions to know exactly what happened outside of-something went wrong”

“Still,” Damian pointed out, “Why were you sent back? How does expediating what you and Wilson know help you any?”

Bruce and Tim stilled , “Wilson is making a move of his own”

It wasn't a statement. Dick looked over to Bruce, and outside of the occasional tremors and muscle murmurs, his face displayed nothing. But that was all the answer Bruce needed to confirm his suspicions, “What is Wilson planning? He can’t be so brash as to expect to be able to attack the light when they’re frantic to cover this up”

Dick shrugged and examined his nail bed with enthused disinterest, “Why not? The Light will be screwed if they have more than the JL and Waller looking into them. Once the CIA and FBI started getting too curious, then MI6 and other intelligence agencies will start demanding answers, and it'll be too much for the Light to shoulder” he looked Bruce squarely in the eye, “They know they need to get any loose ends, and the market crash, under control before the world clues into something other than a housing crisis”

“That's risking too much,” Bruce was getting closer and closer without ever actually moving, and it was off-putting to Dick. He’d forgotten how squeamish an angry Dark Knight could make others. He hated that time away from him, and with Deathstroke the Terminator, hadn't squashed that instinctual reaction. A small, insecure voice wondered back if it was moreso that his dad was disappointed in him and finally confronting him in a way that put him on the spot, but Dick was quick to disregard that notion. Dick made a face, “You're right, Bruce. We should just sit back and wait for the Light to make their move first” his face lit up, and he sat forward with aggressive enthusiasm, “I wonder who will act first! Will Queen Bee sic Klarion on me again? Will Savage get his turn to see what makes me tick? Will they just vote to chip me and see what happens-”

“We get it, asshole,” Jason snapped.

Dick was quick to retaliate, “No, you don't, Jason. You’re putting me in a tight spot by expecting me to play pacifist here. It's not like we can just pick up our little BS partnership and act like we never double-crossed each other. There’s only so many options I have that keep me safe and off the defense”

Damian tsked lowly, “We'd never betray you, Richard. The more you speak, the more proof we have that Deathstroke has warped your perspective or encouraged the wrong understanding of our motives every step of the way”

Tim and Jason made a face at Damian’s attempt to rehash the topic of Dick’s misguided subservience under Wilson. In return, Dick’s cheeks lit up and the corners of his eyes tightened , “ Damian? Tell me,” he said politely, slowly , “ Did I misremember anything when you crashed my mission in Belarus?”

Damian did his best to maintain a stoic facade beneath Batman’s sudden sharp attention. He’d hoped that the secret op. would stay a secret between him, Drake, and Gordon. Without waiting for a reply, Dick continued, “Or was I misunderstanding when you tracked my location, without my consent, to Eastern Europe, and almost got my men killed because they weren't able to split their attention between fending off you and keeping me contained for my own wellbeing?”

Before Damian could squeeze a word in, “Or, wait! Did I misconstrue that time you guys crashed the Prime Minister’s baquet and slipped a tracker on me?”

Dick gave a harsh laugh and glanced at Bruce, “I mean, if we really wanted to start counting our broken eggs here, you could explain to me how I misunderstood everything that first year you found me, right?”

That earned a wince from Damian and a firmer look from Bruce, but Dick continued, “I mean I thought I was 17 and about to graduate again, and you guys just let me go around thinking that, but you’re right Dami” Dick expression fell and the brightness desolved into scorn, “It was my fault right? I let Slade give me the wrong idea”

Damian threw his shoulders back and stepped forward, “You are being cruel, Richard. You mean very little of what you say. We all know the primary goal behind your actions is to keep us safe. You are pulling a Spirit”

Dick’s tirade halted at the mention of the Disney movie, unprepared for the reference. Intending to keep Bruce quiet and in the loop, Tim tilted his head but kept his eyes on the pair , “It's a kid's movie where a nice Native is mean to a horse, but it's for the horse’s benefit” Bruce looked ready to have an aneurysm but stayed quiet.

Jason smirked, but didn't allow the silence to permeate too long, “We’re not gonna get anywhere with this topic. I'm actually really fucking over it”

Dick sighed, near the end of his rope, “Thank you”

Jason dropped into a low squat before Dick, “Did the old perv send you to confirm what happened just so that he knew it was safe to attack the Light?” he playfully rapped his knuckles across Dick’s temple, “What's the plan here Dickhead? A small op with just you two? Gonna sneak into the Shadows’ base and break all their shit and corrupt their files? Or is he gonna go all out and throw all those contracted mercs at the Light’s bases instead? Overwhelm them?”

Dick was stoic in his response to Jason’s prattle, but his last guess earned a few too many blinks from Dick, catching Tim’s attention. Tim dropped his crossed arms, “Oh my god, is he really ?”

Jason looked at Jason in confusion, but Dick looked more annoyed than anything, “Is he really gonna go to war with them? He can’t actually be thinking of mobilizing his men and women to attack every base”

“Not all,” Bruce replied for Dick, still watching his son, “Just the most prominent and most used. The biggest hit Wilson can calculate, while refraining from stretching his men too thin, will be the most advantageous attack. It will give him leeway to offer a substantial defense if the Light is still capable of launching an assault in response to the betrayal”

It can't be a betrayal if there was never any trust. Dick looked righteously pissed, “I really fucking hate when you do that,” he said to Bruce. 

“Richard!” Damian exclaimed, “This is too risky. We won’t just feed you the information Deathstroke wants so that you can recklessly launch a war!”

Dick shrugged, “Alright. I’ll just go in blind,” he said simply . Damian spluttered.

“Listen,” Jason soothed in a taunting voice, “Listen Dickie. You just revealed you’re on a bit of a time crunch here” Dick arched a brow in return, waiting to see where Jason was taking this, “You need to-well scratch that, the perv of yours wants to make a move within the next what? 24? 48 hours? To keep the Light off balance while they scramble to fix Luthor’s fuck up” he smirked when Dick didn't reply outside of his fuming expression, “So all we need to do to fuck that up, is prolong that”

Dick's brow was bent and low when he responded, “And here I thought you were trying to be a better man, Jay. Copying Bruce’s go-to?”

Jason smiled back, but his jaw was ticked and clenched , I’m gonna love caving your face in with my fist, his expression said. Dick grinned back, Do it .

“Enough,” Bruce demanded. Both boys looked up at him in irritation. Bruce paused, realizing that if things were different, just enough to have altered Dick and Jason’s futures, then this would’ve still been their future. His grown sons, arguing and bitching in each other’s faces with a ferocity that could dip and rise as easily as their truce. As stereotypical as siblings could get, despite their lack of blood relation.

“Dick, you’re not doing anything as reckless as this without proper backup and support”

Dick’s face twisted in offense and agitation.

“What is Wilson’s plan? Is he intending to divert and corrupt resources with a small operation, or is he planning something much larger?”

Dick eyed Bruce indignantly for a long moment before he let out a heavy breath of defeat, “Fine, whatever” he slumped back, “But you actually have to tell me what happened tonight”

Tim smirked, “Like you don't already know”

Dick shrugged. Eventually, Bruce relented, but he maintained a physical positioning that would've made it awkward for Dick to stand and get to his feet. To do so would make it too obvious that he desired a change in positioning to offset the obvious power differentials. Dick hated allowing his brothers and Bruce to lord over him with Jason crouched just in front of him, but he’d rather that than allow them to see how on edge he was. He accepted his aggravating position beneath Bruce and Jason , and did his best to exude indifference.  Bruce had Tim re-reveal the chip Jason had ripped from Manworth. He held it up, cringing at the flake of red-tinged skin. Jason merely rolled his eyes and commented on how old people are like layered onions. Dick eyed the chip and nodded, “You saw Manworth at Luthor’s meeting, didn't you?” 

Bruce nodded, “I know him personally, but recognized everyone except Anatoly”

Dick nodded, expecting as much, “I assume that’s no longer the case” he knew Bruce would've lost sleep over reading up on any new key players in this mess of a subterfuged war.

Bruce looked displeased, “Not since Wilson accepted such an in-depth partnership with him. Anatoly's deliverables and shipments haven't warranted League attention because there have been more pressing matters”  

Dick was quick to move on, uninterested in the partnership that had whored him out to their benefactor’s daughter, “Luthor’s been chipping every high net worth prospect he can”

Damian made a face, “So all those galas and parties-”

“The ones you crashed and tried cornering me at? Yeah, those. Eastern European, Western, and East Asian, even a fair amount of South African investors-Luthor’s been chipping them at a rate that would make the Humane Society proud” Jason chuckled and earned a smirk from Dick, but Tim and Bruce’s expressions quieted them down quickly, “Our assumption was that Luthor initiated some sort of long-distance broadcast order to all his unwilling ivnvestors to test them. They were most likely only supposed to move a little money. With the amount of funds and the number of investors, Lex Corp’s market rise still would've been notable, but not ground-breaking like this”

“Does Wilson have any idea what went wrong?” Bruce pressed, “How many other cases like Manworth are there? Most police reporting systems are intertwined with city medical records, so it won’t be long before connections are made between who invested, and crashed the market, and who had an episode”

Dick shrugged, “As far as we can tell, no one else. This was a fluke. I can't say the same thing for Africa or Russia or whatever, but there aren't any billionaire clients that reported calls like this tonight”

Tim hummed, “Might be some sort of accidental feedback that hurt Manworth’s end of the spinal connection” he looked over to Jason, “Kind of like having too many phones on one call. Someone does something like turn on Bluetooth, and most of the phones are fine, but maybe one phone disconnects for whatever reason”

Bruce looked back at his oldest, “So you wanted to make sure the chip hadn't exploded or been treated in a way that would cause this reaction?”

Dick shrugged, “Among other things. It would've changed our understanding of the chips a little if taking a hot shower or scratching his neck had triggered this. Honestly, a technical error or Luthor's part is the best-case scenario for everybody. Except Luthor,” he snickered.

“But this was most likely just Luthor issuing orders incorrectly or the chip’s proptype software system that caused this mishap,” Bruce inferred. Dick nodded, “One of Slade’s men thinks it's some natural malware that hasn't been written out of the chip’s code, something that's great at giving quick, concise orders to the neural systems it latches onto through the spine, but not something that can handle too many orders or connections at once”

“Ok, so what does this mean exactly?” Tima asked, “For your… plans? If your first guess was right, then what? You’re just gonna go back to Slade, and you’ll attack the Light? Break contract and hope attacking first gives you enough of an advantage?”

“I thought that lowlife didn't break contracts?” Jason sneered.

Dick looked at Jason scornfully, “Slade and anyone he deems part of his team's safety are written into the contract. Specifically in a way that avoids punishment or backlash from the payee. Savage himself, or the light on his behalf, can't make a move against us without breaking the contract”

“You're justifying attacking first because you think they would've done it eventually?” Damian asked.

Dick cocked his head, “Slade never planned to finish off every name on Savage's little hit list, and he didn't expect us to either. It's been a waiting game this whole time”

“So you did know, this whole time, that the Light was making moves to chip you”, Bruce softly accused. His voice was low and rough, but it didn't negate the quiet heavy emotion.

Dick’s lip curled, “I'm not stupid, Bruce. No matter how manipulative you think he is-”

“‘Cause he is,” Jason squeezed in.

“I know!” Dick snapped. He took a heavy short breath and looked at Bruce, “Whether they want to chip me, or Slade, or his entire fucking private army of mercs doesn't matter. The plan was always to move first, and this is a great opportunity to do so”

Bruce looked agitated and unnerved, but his eyes held a glint of something . A cross between approval and relief. Dick wasn't sure if it was from him planning for the worst contingencies from the start or if it was from his openness to the harsh realities of what was to come . An acceptance of the fact that he wouldn't be spared the consequences of the chips. 

“Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but there isn't too much that happened” Jason stood up and stretched his shoulders. Dick grinned up at him, taking the opportunity to leisurely stand.

“We’ll know more after Manworth is given a proper medical exam and his wife’s report is accounted for, but that will take some time,” Bruce stated, keeping an eye on Dick as he stood and began to meander around the cave.

Dick nodded, “Alright,” he rolled his shoulders, “I guess I’ll get going-”

“That's it?!” Damian looked petulantly furious. Dick’s brow raised, “Uhhh, yeah? Dami, it's not like you learned anything groundbreaking for me to stick sound for"

“So you’re really going to attack the Light?”

Dick half shrugged, half nodded, “We’ll see. That's the plan, but plans change”

“Dick, don't be foolish. Just because Wilson is encouraging it doesn't make it a good idea,” Bruce argued. Dick looked at Bruce in a way that had his eyes and chin tilted up, reminding him that his oldest wasn't bigger than him, wasn't older than him…but it felt that way. His sons, all of them in their own way, actually , all felt more weathered than him at times.  

“I could just follow through and not let you leave you fucking idiot,” Jason taunted, “I don't fucking care how many different ways you call me Bruce. This is stupid. There's a reason why no one has ever outright attacked the Light. Even you said: people like Ra’s Al Ghul are mitigated, not defeated”

Tim winced at the verbal barbs flying at Bruce. Tim was impressed by the change in Bruce. He wasn't sure when it became obvious to him, but Bruce was learning to hold his tongue more and more around Dick, making Jason the default argument initiator between those 3 . Tim despised the sentiment that he was quiet and laid back just because Bruce, Dick, and Jason were so hard-headed. In all honesty, Tim could see the similarities between himself and Dick much more easily than Bruce and Jason, though. Jason was a hothead, and Bruce was the stubborn head of their mangled family, but Dick was the peacekeeper. He never used to fight, and nearly never started one, but trauma and death had snapped his patience, leaving him a husk that seemed to rely on short bursts of negative emotion.

Dick eyed Jason curiously, intrigued by the challenge, “Do it, Jay,” he said softly. He turned to face his younger brother fully, “Do it. Attack me. Put me in a choke hold and kick my knees out. Go for the throat pounch, and maybe even a submission point along a tender spot” Dick’s finger ghosted over his over throat, “And when I'm down just long enough, slap a meta dampening collar on me and see. What. happens” he hissed the last handful of words out with a maliciousness that only seemed to challenge Jason’s fire-igniting it with a green that flared in his eyes.

“ No ,” Tim snapped harsher than intended, “Did you guys hear me or not?”

Jason glanced briefly at Tim, to which Tim spat, “I just tased Dick to keep us all from fighting! We can't cross that line. I won't let us”

Dick’s features stayed firm and menacing, but something in his eyes, something unreadable and vague, seemed to shine appraisingly at Tim. He turned on Dick, “You're an idiot for basically begging them to do what’ll piss you off the most, but you” he turned on Jason, “Are an even bigger idiot. What are you gonna do if Dick started giving you the cold shoudler like Bruce!? Huh? I'm not saying you're wrong- I mean we all wanna keep Dick here obviously” he waved a hand at Damian” but we can't let Deathstroke and the Light, and all that other shit, mess up what was there before they entered the picture”

After a painfully long, tense few minutes, Dick checked the underside of his wrist and Bruce noted how he wore it military style; a habit from Deathstroke no doubt, “Okie dokie,” he said eventually, “I'm gonna get going, but why don't we pick this up after I've taken care of a few things, yea? Give my thanks to Alfy for the food. I know he hates cooking after 9”

Jason grinned darkly and dropped his chin, “You better get going  Dickie” he warned lightly, as if Tim hadn't just quelled their rising tensions. Dick backed away towards where a black matte nondescript bike was parked in the shadows of the garage. Behind them, the elevator dinged as it began its descent, but the room’s occupants ignored it, assuming it was Alfred returning back to the cave. Dick offered them one last passing glance, “Real mature, Bruce. Putting on the cowl doesn't inflate your authority anymore”

His brothers and Bruce followed to where his attention was positioned on a spot beside the large computer screens. Tim looked to Bruce, but before he could speak, Dick reached his bike. Dick had just thrown his right leg over the bike when Barbara’s voice rang out, “Stop! Dick!”

Dick jolted in surprise and looked up with genuine shock. Everyone turned to spot Barbara jumping down the stairs 3 at a time. Her hair was falling out of a messy bun, and she was sans uniform, running towards them in nothing but sweats and a sweatshirt. Dick frowned, having already been on his way out , “ Sorry, Babs. Got a schedule to keep up,” he moved to put his helmet on, regardless of whether or not she heard him.

“Dick! Stop!” She caught up to the others in time for Bruce to intervene and catch her shoulder, “He's not staying”

“We’ll catch you up, Babs, but there's no point. We have too much to worry bout now,” Tim tried only to earn a scathing, exhausted glare from the redhead. Bruce’s grip on her shoulder kept her rooted in place, but she raised her voice over them, “Dick! Stop. You gotta listen. Just don't go-”

She stopped at Dick’s pittying, dismissive look before he shoved his helmet over his head, “God dammit, Dick!” she cried in frustration. She was losing control and felt frantic. She just needed him to stop and listen, to take a breath with her and stop jumping from risk to risk, but even his brothers and dad were letting him run off again, justifying it, no doubt, under the pretext that Dick would hate them more-fight them more for it. He brought up the kickstand and spoke before she could think out the consequences, “We have Lincoln!”

Tim sucked in a sharp breath, and Bruce’s grip tightened considerably. She resisted the urge to wince, but hope flared when Dick didn't depart. He stayed, still as ever, and watched her through his dark visor. She licked her lips, suddenly self-conscious, “We caught Lincoln-or well, Jason did. He’s been following us to find out what's been going on with you, and-”

“You have him?” Dick’s muffled question called out from across the cave.

“Sedated, not on ice,” Tim was quick to clarify. Despite her annoyance with the brothers, she was thankful for Tim’s interjection. She started mentally begging for Dick to get off his bike and listen to them. Sadly, her stomach and heart plummeted as Dick revved his engine. The bike flared to life and then fell to a low rumble, “Treat him well,” Dick stated, “He was Talon’s only friend”

Chapter 49

Notes:

Hey there! New ch. Getting into a few deaths soon

“So Luthor did dig himself a hole,” Slade mused.

“Without even” a lion’s yawn pulled apart Dick’s jaw, “Realizing it"

Slade cast an amused glance at Dick beside his desk. He’d been standing at attention since he arrived back and delivered his mission report. After being blown up and sent on a last-minute reconnaissance mission, he was sleep-deprived and feeling it. If anyone else were present, Slade knew his student would have withheld his yawn, but he allowed a level of intimacy in private. Even moreso when it was just Dick and Slade. Slade gave his paperwork another once over before he set the files down and leaned back, “This would be an opportune moment to act,” he mused out loud, “If Wayne didn't find anything to provide further evidence that Manworth was specifically targeted or that his chip was overexerted, then this was a complete mishap. An accident that Luthor is, no  doubt, scrambling to correct”

“Fucker’s probably hiding,” Dick crossed his arms and swayed a little, “S’ got more self-preservation than a cockroach”

Slade shook his head, “While that may be true. He is a businessman at heart. No, Luthor knows not to squander any viable business opportunities with Al Ghul or Savage by hiding. It would rob him of his position on the Light’s board and possibly hurt his public affairs and holdings. As much as it pains him, he will want to face the Light head-on and salvage what he can as soon as he can”

“He’s probably hoping they’ll help fix the market, too. Make him less of a suspect to the government”

Slade nodded, “If his increasing shares continue for much longer, he’ll be detained or subpoenaed to report to federal court. You are correct, though. If the Light deems Luthor enough of an asset to keep him around, they will no doubt seek to address any public affairs issues immediately”

He glanced sideways at his student to see him correct his footing in time to avoid tipping backward, “Go. Rest”

Dick blinked dumbly. His mind was still in the middle of their conversation, and had little capacity for multitasking, “What?”

Slade resisted the urge to chuckle at the young way Dick responded, “Sleep. Go, Renegade. I’ll have Wintergreen wake you”

He didn't miss the way his student stiffened under the order. As well-intentioned as the order was, it was still a command. The reactions Dick still had to verbal firmness would undoubtedly be an unresolved issue to push past sooner rather than later. Sleepless nights were still a constant factor, but they were manageable on a base of soldiers who were also suffering from PTSD. The killer wasn’t blind to the way his apprentice would focus too much on a particular blank space, expecting the unoccupied space to suddenly be filled with someone to converse with. It wasn’t anything too consequential, but if ignored for too long, he could see the effects becoming too detrimental to allow the boy free rein again. He hadn’t discussed it with the kid or Wintergreen, but he’d taken to trying to desensitize him once again, slipping in subtle commands where he could, like just now. It was important that the kid remind himself that he had the option to deny and refuse everything. The fact that he still obeyed Slade in some sort of symbolic refutation to Cobb’s desire to lord over him, only served to please the assassin more. He didn't acknowledge the kid’s reaction, like usual, and allowed him to recover.

Dick looked doubtful, but the look Slade offered him brokered no room for argument. His shoulders dropped and he slumped out of attention. He nodded to the older man before turning to the door, “Pack before you sleep,” Slade called after him, “I'm calling the men to arms, and we move within 24 hours”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Dick learned, upon being woken up, that he’d managed a full 7 hours. It was a rarity to manage anything more than 4 uninterrupted hours of rest since Cobb ambushed them. Dick acknowledged how sleep-deprived he was from non-stop missions and surveillance over a 6-day period, and he still suspected Wintergreen of dosing him with melatonin. The old man had taken to sneaking it into nearly anything he could after Dick started refusing tea. The man had been aghast when Dick refused to partake in their usual tea times, but had given up once it became clear that food and Gatorade weren't safe either.

He dressed in the soldiers’ barracks while his team informed him of their orders and operation parameters. From there, it was easy enough to assume what kind of command Dick would take. Slade was accompanying them since it was such a high-level operation. He’d endeavored to take a small army of men and spread them out over 4 bases. One was Queen Bee's preferred base of operations, another was a secondary League of Shadow’s base, which was optimally close to an information center that Ra’s and Luthor both referred to use, and the last location was along the coast of Greece: a well-hidden tourist location that offered easy access, but especially for Black Manta.

The final decision on operation leads had fallen to Dick’s personal combat team, who, for the first time, would be acting in a position of authority and separate from Renegade and Detahstroke. Falcon had been tasked with heading a portion of their men and dismantling the systems of Queen Bee’s outpost. Eerie had been given the location along the coast of Greece to disband. Dick had been assigned Luthor’s base of operations, and Slade had dictated that he would take the remaining men and tackle Ra’s secondary safehouse.

Luthor had been spotted in a handful of different locations by Slade’s reconnaissance specialists. The market’s steep decline had slowed, but not halted, and Lexcorp was all any news outlets in America could talk about. Dick suspected that Luthor had sent out a double or two to make public appearances and attend to any government requests for information. A way to pacify authorities and make it appear as though he wasn't hiding from the press. Slade acknowledged the possibility but also considered the fact that he was merely jumping all over the world with some sort of specially designed zeta.

Dick didn't voice it, but he wondered if the doubles Luthor may be using were actually real doubles. He'd been the primary funding support and backing presence behind Dr. Desmond’s cloning program. Connor had been the only surviving successful product, but that alone was proof that Luthor was financially interested in that type of genetic experimentation and all too willing to provide his own biological contribution. 

Slade hadn’t pushed the subject after his initial report, but Dick knew the man was all too aware of what Bruce and his brothers had learned from his latest interaction with them. They were already moving on the Light, but Dick feared how his brothers and dad might intervene. They were already aware of the time sensitivity and Slade's desire to act against the Light to disable them, but Dick was comforted by the fact that they were only attacking a select few bases. Bruce would be able to figure out which bases were the most used and highly regarded, which wasn't very comforting to Dick, but he hadn’t had any confirmed plans to share with his brothers, so he hoped it was enough to hinder them from tracking Dick into danger. There was also the afterthought of how they were to shore up their defenses, supplies, resources, and men for after their attack. 

The Light would no doubt respond, but Slade and Dick had decided that they would be slowed by their initial attack as well as the indecision of the Light’s members on how to respond. It was easy enough to count on Queen Bee and Luthor to wish to attack, but there were so many varying players and factors to consider that it looked to be preemptively favorable for Dick and Slade. Luthor would be easily swayed by the majority decision in an attempt to stay within their good graces. Black Manta was a strong member but a sheep at the end of the day. Ra’s would be the most hesitant to attack as he had plentiful resources outside of the Light and didn't rely on the organization’s strength like Queen Bee or Savage did. Savage was a grey actor, though. There was no clear indicator to be able to tell how he would act. The man was a strong character with indicators for ego and offense like Luthor, but the man was meta and eons older, implying a mental wartime strategy for offense and defense that Luthor just didn't possess. 

In the end, Slade and Dick had decided that shoring up all their defenses and primary bases would be the next best action, but that everything after, and the timeline in which it happened, would be an uncertain waiting game. Dick finished dressing and triple checked that every buckle and trap was tight and in place along his armor and vest. Slade had given up on insisting he mirror him and adapt to armor. Dick could accommodate it if he was forced to, but he preferred maintaining his acrobatics and defensive flexibility for a fight, and that required less weight and armor. He’d taken to soft, thick materials and lots of padded Kevlar, but knew that if he wasn't meta, then walking into a high-stakes operation like he was dressed like a 14-year-old Robin would not have been an option.

Seeing Eerie dig around for his gloves earned him a nod from Dick. He tossed his 3rd, an extra pair, and finished up checking his own tactical bag. It wasn't long before he and his team were done and making their way down to the public hallway. He glanced over the waiting men, checking their uniforms, and level of weaponry preparedness. He’d already separated Slade’s men and women into groups that supported each team lead. He made sure that Eerie and Falcon had the most men since they were the most naturally vulnerable and, as much as he hated to do so, assigned the next batch to himself and Wildcat. He knew he was less experienced than Slade, but also more susceptible to the Light's chips. Hopefully, Luthor's blunder proved to the board that the chips weren't ready to be used on more than a handful of people, and definitely not in volatile situations. His worst fear was the Light taking a page out of Cobb’s book and killing him before stuffing him in a cold, dark closet until they were ready to use him.

He’d ordered the fewest and the remaining men to attend to Slade’s assigned location and hated that Slade was pleased with the dictation that his student had decided on. It wasn't a pleasant one, but it forced Dick to acknowledge the real-world risks, and the most logical scenarios that the Light would proceed with or respond with, forcing Dick to act accordingly and sparce out his men as efficiently as possible. Deathstroke was the most equipped on his own; therefore, he required the fewest soldiers and backup. It was a move that Dick would have expected from Bruce, and the similarity between him and Slade was not a welcome one. Especially given how his insides hated and twisted themselves into knots over the dark, hungry way Slade stared him down. Dick ahd tried to pitcure that same expression on Bruce to justify Dick's responses and leniency with Slade, but the thought nearly had him hurling his guts.

With his team at his back, Dick met Slade in the hallway, just outside the entrance to the hijacked zeta transport access chamber. Slade was as menacing as ever, and it wasn't hard to pick up on the chatter and gossip among the men. Some jokingly offered to trade rations if it meant being able to be on a less intimidating team like Eerie's or Falcon’s. Slade, just as tall as Jason and Bruce, offered Dick a singular nod, “Keep your coms on. Check in with every progression” 

Dick stared up at his master and idly wondered at how that single steel grey eye had offered him such a wide range of emotions over the years. Now, it was a strange mix of solidarity and pride-an expectancy of success that reassured Dick on a nonverbal level. He nodded, knowing there wasn't much to say in response, “Yes, Master”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Check”, Bruce waited for Barbara to check in.

“Check,” he heard from her. After Dick had departed, they’d unanimously decided to go after him, unwilling to allow him to run headfirst into danger just because Deathstroke was backing him. Most Leaguers were occupied with their regular duties on top of handling demands from government officials. The CIA and FBI were no fools, having dealt with women like Waller all their careers, they knew there was something non-civilian at play and were demanding information from Superman and Wonder Woman. A few had even connected the dots between the increasing issues and Wonder Woman’s public episodes a few months back. Black Canary had offered to assist as Oliver handled Star City, but the rest of their back-up had been limited to the available and willing Young Justice members. 

It had been a quick scramble to assemble and update everyone. Batman had been grateful for the authority-resistant young adults for conforming to his authority, however temporary that turned out to be. They let him issue orders and dictate who went where. Batman had been hesitant to send anyone somewhere that he wasn't sure would be targeted, but he didn't want to spread any one team too thin by trying to cover too many bases as well. There were a handful of bases that he would categorize in his top 10 locations as being of high importance or efficient utilization for the Light, but he had no true confirmation for where Deathstroke would select in the end. He knew at least 2 locations because either Dick and Slade would target them equally, separately, or Dick and Slade would assault one location while Dick sent his private team after another. There could be more, but at that point, Bruce knew he could theorize until he gave himself a headache. In the end, he selected 2 known locations. Queen Bee’s primary base of operations in Northern Africa, and Ra’s Al Ghul’s secondary safe house for information allocation in Iran.

He’d allocated that Kidflash, Artemis, Batgirl, Red Arrow, and Black Canary attend to Queen Bee’s base, and Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, and himself would see to the Iranian location. He had made it clear before they departed that their primary directive was to ensure Dick’s safety and to minimize any casualties from surrounding towns, and their second would be to assist in the destruction of the Light headquarters while minimizing harm to their opposing forces.

“We’re moving in”

Batman grunted in response, “Red Robin will let you know when we’ve reached point”

Their team had to scale a small cliff where Queen Bee’s base was below ground level, relying on a simple elevator instead. Still, Barbara was calm and controlled, waiting for Bruce’s team A to reach their point of access before both teams breached their respective base. Batman let Batgirl take lead for now, but knew that if things turned dire, Black Canary would most likely take over. Bruce looked to his left and right, confirming everyone on either side of him was prepped and ready. Weapons and quick response tools were strapped to belts as necessary, and climbing hooks were embedded and ready to be used to grapple the team to the lip of the ledge above them. Luckily, Ra’s secondary base was already known to Bruce. He visited it once or twice as a young man, and as far as anyone knew, it was used primarily as a storage base. Bruce knew differently; it wasn’t for resources like amo or weaponry. It was an armory for information. Ra’s held a copy of every bit of useful information he came across at this base. It was a reliable backup if Ra’s needed quick information, history, or blackmail material. It ranged from government services like MI6, FBI, CIA, French DGCI, all the way to routing numbers and financial back-ups for a multitude of corporations across the world.

Bruce also knew the amount of information the Demon’s Head held on the Cape community, and that it was most likely stored at this base too. Another reason why he hadn't made it a priority for their team to desist Slade’s men's efforts. He didn't want unnecessary casualties and wanted Dick safe, but any destroyed information would turn out to be a secondary benefit in the end. The Dark Knight issued the signal, and their line of dark-clad heroes ascended. It was easy enough to scale to the top, allowing Batman to nod to Red Robin to signal team B that they could move in. He took the lead and moved slowly. The cliff’s edge didn't show any signs of being damaged from too much climbing gear, but they hadn't seen any prints on their way in, forcing Batman to recall the entrance from his distant memories. Batman wasn't sure if they beat Slade’s men here or if they’d taken separate entry ways.

That inquiry was soon answered when they rounded the cliff’s edge to find a metal door encasement built into the mountain. The hot Middle Eastern heat beat down on them, despite it being past midday. The double door was open, left ajar to allow the heat in, and the base’s AC to escape.

“Welp,” Red Hood added unhelpfully, “Looks like we're late”

Batman sent his second-oldest a look, but he only received a tilted dip of his chin in return. Red Hood took the lead and Batman allowed him, making sure Robin was behind but not last. They entered slowly, but Bruce spotted the signs of forced entry instantly. A tad too much rubble and pebbles along the corners of the corridor indicated increased foot traffic. The metal door’s biometric lock was broken beyond repair, offering occasional bursts of sparks and small whines as red and orange emergency lights blinked sporadically. They prowled along, keeping their movements light, and their foot placements lighter. Jason paused at the head of their group, and everyone behind paused in response, allowing him to try and pick up the sounds of movement ahead. Jason dropped his right hand to his side and pointed 5 fingers down over and over, indicating too many persons to count.

Batman clenched his jaw and slowly retrieved a batarang. He layered 3 between his fingers of his right hand and kept his left hand free for whatever they might need. The hallway progressed down another minute before they could all make out the sounds of footsteps and low voices. They spoke casually and calmly, but none of the voices were of people they knew. Red Hood crouched down and slowly stalked forward until he reached the end of the hallway. The voices just beyond were echoing, indicating there was a much larger room right around the corner. Red Hood lowered himself to one knee and peered around the corner as much as possible. A half second later, he pulled back and returned to the group’s side, “At least 20 men, soldiers”

“Slade's?” Tim asked.

Jason shrugged, “I guess so. These fuckers aren't running around with orange spray-painted on half their uniforms”

“Maybe we should just enter”, Damian suggested, “If Wilson has already taken over the base, then we aren't risking a battle”

“It's Wilsom. That's enough of a risk,” Batman reminded them.

“He's got a point though,” Tim said, “Slade won't hurt us, and Dick is probably out there”

“Probably taking shit and blowing up the rest,” Jason sat back on his heels. They were hopeful that Dick would take initiative and destroy any cape-community related information.

“We can’t take forever deciding, they're right around the corner,” Tim hissed. That seemed to get through to Bruce. He frowned but nodded his acknowledgment, “Red Hood and I will go. You two will stay back in case we need to make an escape. I don't trust Wilson not to pull anything just because of what we think Dick would want”

Damian frowned but agreed with a nod. Jason didn't wait after that. He stood with an exaggerated flourish and spread his arms up and wide, “I'll admit I'm not an easy guy to find....”

Tim cursed at Jason’s lack of notice and dragged Damian backward with him. Jason continued on and ignored the unified click of guns at the ready, “But I'm still hurt I wasn't invited”

Batman stood at his back, a large, menacing shadow. All around them, every soldier in the expanded, cavernous room jumped to attention. Standard-issued automatic AKs and FAMAs snapped up to point at the 2 intruders. Lining the walls to the right and left were large crates, most likely filled with whatever paper documents their superiors had deemed worth saving. The far wall, directly facing Jason and Bruce, was lined with tactical duffel bags. They were overflowing with a variety of explosives, prepped for when this team headed out. 

A tense silence ate the room, despite its size, “Where's Wilson?” Batman demanded. The soldiers shifted with unease, but no one responded.

“Yeah,” Jason cut in, “Where’s that perv?”

That earned him a few sharp looks, “And my day was going so well,” a low voice purred from the right. A right-branching hallway in the back offered a partial view of Deathstroke as he came closer. If Jason were more transparent about the books he liked to read, he would’ve compared the man’s gait to a saunter, something slick and slimy, exuding ego with every breath.

“To what do I owe this…displeaure, Wayne?”

The Dark Knight nearly vibrated out a growl, “Where is he?”

Deathstroke was far too eager to play coy, “Who? Renegade?” The killer stopped just in front of his men and leaned onto his right hip, “I'll tell you that if you tell me where the rest of your brats are”

The man’s eye trailed behind their shoulders to the curving cave hallway, “Is the Al Ghul brat hiding back there? From what Richard has told me, it’s the skinny one you usually leave behind for recon, is that right?”

Batman looked absolutely lethal for the way the white haired, armor-clad man laid out simple profiles of his boys, “But you aren't a fool, Wayne. You didn't come alone, at least not with your most insubordinate brat” Slade’s tone dropped to a dark degree. 

One of the men, too bland and average to have stood out, touched his ear, “Sir?” Deathstroke didn't turn to give him his attention, but the man’s body posture said it all, “Falcon’s second just reported that there are capes invading the base, post securement” the man paused, “5” Another pause, “4, and one presumed Leaguer”

Deathstroke cocked his head, “Found them,” he purred to Bruce.

“Ok, fucker” Red Hood stole the attention and stepped forward. He rolled his shoulders and made sure to hold his firearm at eye level, the barrel pointed at the cave ceiling, “You’re a lowlife, but you're not a dumbass. Where’s Goldie? And what’s your endgame here? Gonna blow the place? 

Deathstroke didn't appreciate the tone, “Renegade is handling his own operation elsewhere. As to my intentions, I'm not entirely convinced that you've earned the right to any further information”

“Where is he?” Jason was quick to demand.

“What exactly is your plan here, Todd? Force him to stand down by threatening yourselves? We both know Renegade has made his intentions, to act unhindered by you brats, clear”

Jason nearly spat at the older man, hating that he was trying to take credit for Dick’s brazen attempt to keep them safe through proxy of distance, “Fuck off. You can only do so much to us,” he jerked his head aggressively at the soldiers backing Slade’s profile.

Slade nodded, “You're right. Renegade does have a line he wouldn't approve of me crossing. That narrows down my options. It doesn't eradicate them though, boy”

“Wilson,” Batman warned menacingly.

“Wayne” Slade purred in response.

”Where is my son?”

“I'm under no obliga-”

“Where is he?!” Batman bellowed.

Slade took a moment to respond, “Where he should be. Away from you”

Red Hood’s head tipped back and a dramatic groan emanated from his throat, “Good god. Are we really gonna have a divorced-parents bitch-out right now? What? Gonna compare notes over who fucked up Dickie better?” The men at Slade’s back shifted slightly, unease and surprise rippling through them like a wave.

Batman disregarded Jason, “You’re going to condemn him Wilson” His arm flung out as if to motion to the room of soldiers and packaged data, “This is reckless, and you’re banking on his meta enhancements and the Light’s lack of proactive assault tactics. You’re going to ruin him and his opportunity at a life after this”

Slade chuckled a deep vibrato, “Is that so?” his tone was light and airy, genuinely amused, “I ruined his future?” His grin was audible through his mask, “So it must've been me who promised his justice if he dressed up and refrained from taking Tony Zuko’s life? It must've been me that tried firing the kid after I threw him at Two Face” Slade’s shoulders rose and fell too quickly to be anything other than a laugh, “And it must've been me that adopted 3 other replacements and gave them his mother’s name. Don't make me laugh, Wayne. That boy was ruined when I first saw him flipping over Gotham’s rooftops. All I've done since is try to salvage what you started”

“I gave Dick a chance to do something. You’ve-”

“Oh, that is rich,” the man replied immediately, “That boy should've grown up a poor Eastern European immigrant with a loving family and no concept of death until John and Mary Grayson died of old age. If justice were real, Wayne. If it was authentic and genuine, then neither one of us would've ever met that boy, never derailed his life”

Brue wasn't about to back down, “You have no idea what you’r-”

Slade’s head turned in, just enough to indicate he was hearing something over his own comms system, “Sir?” A soldier at Slade’s back, the same one from earlier, “Wildcat is requesting backup. No one has heard from Renegade-”

“I warned you, Deathstroke,” Batman's jaw was ticked. His voice was low and dark, but Slade didn't allow him much time to preach, “Say what you will, Wayne. Whatever strokes that latex-clad ego of yours. If you care to check, the stationed guards here have been piled in the far back. The kitchen and temporary barracks”

“Are they even alive?” Red Hood drawled. Slade shrugged, “Why don't you let me know. I'm willing to bet money that Daddy here will check on them before his son”

The large man strode past them and made his way to the left, where a separate doorway offered a separate passageway. Red Hood made an affronted sound over the man’s quick dismissal. He was quick to step forward and make his way after the man. The soldiers' weapons remained cocked, but their Colonel's casual attitude seemed to relax the men, letting them know to stay on guard, but inactive and un-hostile. Batman was quick to follow, feeling the eyes and a few of the men follow them. He assumed the majority still had orders to ready the explosives and oversee what they had deemed valuable enough to steal. Deathstroke came to a stop in front of a large 7-foot cylinder.

“So everyone just has a zeta now?” Red Hood complained. 

“No,” Deathstroke replied smoothly. He began typing in coordinates to the small computer beside it, “Just knock-offs that work well enough to chance a few close teleporations”

“How close?” Batman’s voice was entirely disapproving. Slade didn't reply. He glanced down at their feet. Jason and Bruce followed his attention, catching sight of a lone boot, peeking out from behind the zeta’s secondary encasement. Without turning, Slade stated, “Commander, Yuwan. I believe your men still have some housekeeping to attend to”

“Yes, Sir,”

Bruce turned to spy one of the men who had followed, also the first one to speak earlier, “He jogged forward and knelt down. He took hold of the downed man’s ankles and started to drag him back down the hallway.

“So tell me,” Slade took a step back and allowed the zeta tube to start up, “How much did the kid let slip for you to connect the dots?” He leaned back casually, "I almost considered punishing him for all but inviting you, but as much as I hate to admit it," Slade shrugged, "There's merit behind your title, Detective"

“He didn't spill his guts if that's what you're asking,” Jason snapped.

“No, I suppose not,” Slade glanced at him, “But then again, he tased himself, right?”

Batman’s lower face conveyed how thin his wavering patience was. Slade knew exactly what the other man seemed to be thinking and, despite most of their faces being covered, both men seemed to convey their infuriating emotions well enough. Both men were begging the other to instigate just enough to justify the violent fantasy they were sharing. The zeta’s inside glass containment lit up, and a steady hum began. Slade took a step towards it and slid open the glass with his palm, “Shall we?”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Wildcat” Deathstroke wasted no time, “Report”

Wildcat, mid-sprint to respond to the newcomers, stumbled to a quick halt, “Sir,” he greeted, slightly out of breath, “We were successful in containing the bas and minimizing any external threats. There are no casualties, but there are 5 reported injuries, all of which were deemed lethal. I arranged for Commander Xan to escort them back to our rendezvous headquarters” the shorter man's eyes drifted slightly as he fought not to get distracted by Batman, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin at his back, “Falcon and Eerie have reported successful seizures of their target bases”

“You've noticed our guests,” Deathstroke commented in a snide tone, “Now, please do us a favor and report on what I'm actually here for”

Wildcat nodded, his frayed cornrows bobbing slightly with his movement, “Everything was going according to plan when a few unexpected things happened, Sir. Luthor’s men are about as trained as a civilian who’se taken an interest in karate, and these men, even less so” he nodded at all the packaged data and broken CPUs and GPUs that had been torn from the surrounding computers, “But one played dead at an inopportune moment. We were all distracted, and Renegade was one of a few men in the room when the target acted against him. He-”

“I care little for verbal sophistcation, soldier,” Slade warned. Get to the point, his tone demanded.

Wildcat nodded quickly, “He was chipped sir”

Batman tensed visibly, and Robin made a tight, strangled noise, earning the attention of Wildcat and the men at his back. The shorter dark-skinned man was quick to explain, realizing he was surrounded by varying levels of danger who were present for one priority: Renegade. "The man was successful in surprising Renegade and placing a chip on his neck in a moment’s notice, but was quickly shot down. Renegade was quick to react, but for whatever reason, was unable to remove the chip himself. I, and 2 others, did so, but it seemed to trigger a reaction in him. We were hoping to give him some alone time and gather himself, get some fresh air,” he spoke authentically and looked at the bats, imploring them to understand, “But a new target made itself known”

“Someone from the Light?” Red Robin asked. He wasn't trying to be subtle in how he was looking around at the base’s layout, demanding more information with his eyes. Wildcat nodded, looking uncertain if he should be responding to the newcomers at all, “Klarion teleported in while Renegade was alone, Sir. We were only made aware of this when they began fighting. Klarion did something that seemed to set off Renegade more and endanger his sense of reality. We responded and were quick to respond. We believe he was sent out by the Light to confirm which safe houses and bases have been seized. Falcon and Eerie reported nothing, so we may have been the first he checked”

“Current status?” Deathstroke demanded, also glancing around for damage.

"Where's the chip that got Wing?" Red Robin asked.

“Klarion was subdued with a meta-dampening collar and locked in the far back. Renegade refuses to leave him alone and orders me to take command of our secondary objective. As of right now, Renegade has not been compromised, but it is my professional opinion that he be removed from the environment to de-escalate any further potential conflict. The chip was inadvertently destroyed upon removal...It was a big...chaotic, Sir”

Slade strode past him, and Wildcat was quick to fall in line, offering another glance behind himself as the bats stayed close. Luthor’s base was vastly different from Ra’s secondary information base, despite being in the same country and environment. The inside had been layered with plaster and metal encasements to give it the facade of a laboratory and a cold library. Their footsteps were silent on the man-made pathways of gravel.

“How many of these boxes of data are you guys stealing, and how much is current? Like chip related,” Red Robin asked Wildcat. The shorter man looked weary of responding to direct inquiries from him.

“All,” Slade answered for him, “Luthor doesn't know anything I don't. Primary objective 1 was to take this location, and their secondary was to destroy everything. This place will be as much rubble as the base you made yourselves entirely unwelcome at by the end of the day. The chips were not planned, but not a surprise either. I'll be taking those to have my own technicians study them”

“You will destroy them, Wilson,” Batman ordered lowly. Wildcat visibly jolted at hearing the Colonel’s name in such a manner. Deathstroke’s eye gleamed when he glanced back at the Bat mid-turn in the hallway, “Of course, Wayne”

“Right here, Sir,” Wildcat directed as best he could from Deathstroke’s side. The killer didn't wait a beat before pressing forward and opening the door. It was larger than it appeared from the outside. The room was longer than it was deep, almost like a strange interrogation room with a desk and chairs on one side and metal rails and shelves on the other. They stepped into the room and were confronted with a flurry of surprises. Dick’s voice rang across the metal room with a ferocity they weren't expecting. His brothers jumped slightly and pushed forward to get a better look. To the left side of the room stood 2 guards at the ready. They glanced at the doorway of newcomers and jumped at seeing their Colonel. They shared a look and the level of their guns wavered, unsure about what took precedence: hierarchy of greetings or what they were leveling their guns at. Slade offered his men a bland look and stepped into the room further.

Wildcat rushed in at the man’s side, nearly dwarfed beside Red Hood, Batman, and Deathstroke. He nodded to his men and allowed them to maintain their positioning, “Status,” he demanded. The man closer to them looked between Deathstroke nd Wildcat as he delivered his report, “Team lead’s been like this the whole time. He acknowledged us twice but hasn't responded to us since, so I'm not sure where his head's at, Sir”

As if to interject, Dick's voice shot across the room, “Shut the fuck up,” he spat. Everyone turned to the far end of the right side of the room. Klarion sat on the floor with his legs splayed and his arms stretched above his head. His wrists were shackled to the metal shelf railings, and to the wall through a circuit of handmade chain links, apparently connected from whatever handcuffs the men had on them. His thin neck was adorned in a meta dampening collar, and his features looked worn down and ragged. The only contradictory feature was the deranged smile stretching his lips. He stared up at Dick in wonder as the dark-clad man yelled at the wall. 

No one spoke, but Dick seemed to hear something, “I don't give a fuck what y-” he stopped and listened, his eyebrow twitching under withering patience, “No! I give you an order and you follow it. I didn't ask for your opinion or your fucking two sense”

“He’s been delusional this whole time?” Robin’s concern was palpable.

Slade looked to Wildcat, who answered, “He was fine aft-well, relatively fine after we removed the chip from his neck, and while we don't have an exact estimate for how long he was alone with Klarion, he began to hallucinate about 11 minutes after we found them”

Dick cut them off again at Klarion’s giggle, “I told you to shut it!” he hollered in a way that resembled a parent at their wit’s end, frantic and loud and exhausted.

“How is he doing this if he has his powers muted?” Batman demanded.

Slade looked intrigued, “He established a mental connection with Renegade before you collared him?” Wildcat nodded, “We hope it will end when we uncollar him, but he might escape and just zip back to Queen Bee. He can teleport, can't he, Sir?”

“Knock him out!” Red Hood ordered in aggravation. Batman frowned at his son’s jump to violence, but didn't disagree. Wildcat frowned, “We already thought of that” his eyes caught Deathstroke’s watching, and his tone leveled to a more polite one, “But as soon as we get closer, Klarion plays with Renegade’s mind just enough to turn us into combatants. I thought they were as close as we could get” he nodded to the soldiers still aiming at Dick and Klarion from the opposite end of the room.

One man spoke up, “We are, Sir. Renegade’s already taken a few swipes at us”

Deathstroke jerked violently, and everyone turned to see a thick black walkie-talkie hit the ground beside the killer. Deathstroke slowly turned to look at his student, but Renegade was already staring him down, “Don't touch her,” he warned.

Robin threw up his shoulders, “What are you showing him?!” he demanded of Klarion. The sweaty, mangled witch giggled in an erratic, high-pitched tone.

“Subdue him," Batman ordered, “He’s too much of a liability to have Klarion dictating his actions”

Wildcat held his temper, “That is easier said than done, although possible now,” he glanced at the other brothers. 

“Well, we can't have some sort of fucking TED talk debate over this,” Jason pointed to where Dick was crouched in the center of the room. He leant to one side as if he was hearing someone whisper in his ear. Every so often, he nodded.

Deathstroke didn't look bothered, “Has there been any effort to interrogate the witch?”

Wildcat nodded, “Some. We’ve gotten as close as possible, but since we can't touch him, or get past Renegade half the time, we’ve had to accept his answers”

“Which are?” Batman demanded in the same expectant tone.

“He doesn't like that Renegade won't hang out with him” Wildcat lifted a finger as he listed, “He’s been visiting known Light locations to see who is where. He doesn't like us. And he can't wait to curse us”

“Where has he verified so far?”

“The Shadow’s base and a location along Spain’s coast. Again, I want to caution that these are his answers and not the truth” Batman stared him down in a way that made him feel like his IQ dropped for reminding a room of detectives, that inane fact.

“So the Light is meeting somewhere else?” Red Robin looked like he wanted to make his way closer. Dick laughed in the corner, nearly a giggle that produced a beaming smile from where Klarion was bound. Jason made a disgusted expression before he shrugged off his jacket and tightened his gloves, “I've got this,” 

Wildcat turned to stop him, but halted when no one else did. He looked from his commanding officer to Dick’s brothers. Tim shrugged, “He’s meta too. It's always fun to see them fight. Dick’s a better grappler, but Jason hates losing”

Jason sauntered up to Dick and dropped into a smooth crouch beside him. Up close, Dick’s hair was a sweaty mess, and he smelled of iron and wet rock. His irises seemed to be struggling to decide on whether or not they wanted to explode into a bright yellow or stay his naturally bright cobalt. He took a quick peek at Dick’s neckline, but couldn't spot any torn skin or blood, “Soooo Dickhead” he slapped his brother on the shoulder, “This is becoming a regular occurrence, isn't it? Gotta say, it doesn't look too good for ya’”

Dick barely reacted and continued listening in to whatever face Klarion’s magic had conjured for just his mind. Jason scowled, “Hey, Dickhead-”

Dick’s hand waved suddenly and sporadically, as if trying to swat a fly-which just happened to be Jason’s face. Jason twisted out of the way and nearly fell on his butt. Affronted, he looked to Dick and saw Klarion, just beyond him, smirking viciously.

“I lied!” Jason announced without breaking eye contact, “Let's kill him”

Klarion’s smirk slipped, and his eyes seemed to bulge. Tim rolled his eyes while Damian’s lit up in agreement, “Not possible,” Deathstroke replied, “Renegade staked a claim on him early on”

“You did not promise my son a life to take, Wilson,” Batman snarled.

Despite his masked face, the man’s head tilted, “As easy as calling shotgun” 

Baman’s expression turned thunderous, but before he could make a move, Klarion reacted and called out. His panic was evident in his squirming and needy tone, “Don't! Don't! It’s not my faaaault” he dragged the word out in a whine reminiscent of a child 10 years his younger.

Jason rolled his eyes, “Which is it? Turning him into a kid? Fucking with his head? Or sneaking up on him here?”

Klarion paused and considered his answer, “The last on-” his eyes went wide at Jason’s slowly, clenching fists, “All of it! All of it!”

Batman shouldered past Jason to take the front of their group, “You will not be killed,” he stated in a way that still sounded like a threat and not a reassurance, “You will explain why you teleported here. But first, you will release Renegade from whatever mental connection you have. Now ”

Klarion’s throat bobbed in response to the Dark Knight’s tone, “I-um,” he glanced around before looking back to the towering figure, “Now?”

Batman took a step forward, and Klarion jerked. He tried to scuttle back into the metal railings, but was unsuccessful and was left kicking his feet against the ground, “Okokokokokokok”

The Dark Knight halted and watched the oily witch. When Klarion felt safe from Batman’s halt, he took a breath and looked at Renegade’s crouched figure, “Don't tell him it was me,” he pleaded in a small voice, “He won't be happy”

Robin made an outraged sound and threw up his hands in frustration. In response to the delay, Deathstroke reached up and behind his back to unsheathe his long sword. Klarion was thoroughly encouraged and snapped his attention back to Renegade. His lips moved quickly, and his fingers tensed in strange and abstract formations. The group watched as previously nonexistent wind picked up and scattered any dirt or rocks that layered the ground at their feet. Just as the wind started to thicken and offer more than a cold draft, Dick blinked. He blinked again, and then his brow furrowed. His lips pulled down, and he tensed in a way that had him staring intensely at the wall he’d been conversing with moments ago.

“Nightwing?” Robin called. Batman shot him a sharp look to silence him, but it was enough. Dick snapped his head towards Damian's voice, and his eyes widened dramatically.

“Fuck” he breathed. He looked back at the wall in front of him and realized just how close he was to it. With an animalistic look, he slowly turned to where Klarion was chained against the metal rack. The witch’s hands shot up even more, “I didn't do it!” he screeched, “They'll tell you”

“Shut up!” Dick roared. He was on the witch in a second and delivered a skin-splitting punch that silenced the witch.

“Dick!” Tim called. He didn't listen and delivered another blow, earning a wet guttural choke for his efforts.

“Make them go away!” Dick yelled.

Batman lunged forward at the same moment Slade called out, “Renegade”

It wasn't clear as to why Dick halted, if it was the conditioned way he’d responded to his operative field name or if it was the sudden hand on his shoulder. Dick froze and glanced down at the dark glove. He turned to look up at Bruce, “I can feel that,” he murmured. Bruce saw the second everything connected in Dick’s eyes, lighting them from a murky blue to a dark golden. He stepped away from Bruce in a quick, clumsy fashion. He looked past the man to find Slade and his brothers in the doorway beside Wildcat. The sound of guns cocking caught his attention, and he spotted the 2 soldiers at arms ready across the room. Confusion and indignation battled for priority in Dick, but he wasn't sure where to start. Wildcat saw the aggravated way his team lead looked at the men and ordered, “Lower your weapons”

“Wh-”

“We’re real”, Slade supplied quickly. His tone was smooth and relaxed, but the way he knew to address the exact cause of concern for Dick calmed him, “Stand down, Renegade. Listen,” the mercenary ordered sternly.

Dick, too dazed and out of his depth, nodded and took a step back and then another. He tried to grasp what must have been reality before Klarion. He looked to Wildcat, “How long did it take for me to become compromised?”

Klarion sat upright, “I didn't-”

“Do you wanna lose your tongue?” Dick hissed. Klarion squirmed and shook his head. After a long, hard look, Dick looked back to Wildcat for his answer.

“I can't give you an exact answer, Sir, but it took approximately 11 minutes to subdue the intruder”

Dick nodded, “All the other targets have been secured?”

Wildcat looked like he wanted to look at Deathstroke. He nodded, “Yes, Sir. The Colonel left his remaining men to finish up at location 1 before arriving here with, um, Batman and company. Eerie and Falcon have confirmed their locations are breached and secure, although there were intruders at Falcon's target location”

Dick’s attention shot to his brothers and dad, “It's just Wally, Arty, and Roy” Tim was quick to explain. 

“And Batgirl”, Damian added. Tim nodded, “Yeah.

Dick scowled, “Casualties?”

“None of our men, although injuries have been reported, and men were allocated to remove them back to base for the time being”

“We haven't heard from the others, have we?” Jason asked under his breath.

“They're fine, Babs commed me when you guys were talking to Deathstroke. It's tense but safe. Everyone's disarmed,” Tim replied just as quietly.

Batman watched Dick take control of the situation. His authority was assured, and his confidence in demanding said authority was blatant. Deathstroke allowed it, and he caught the other man watching him from his periphery, taking obvious pleasure in the Dark Knight’s discomfort over his son’s natural ability to lead an armed militia. It was obvious to Batman that Dick had been allowed to flourish and find himself by way of manipulation per Deathstroke’s subtle methods. The man was a master tactician, so Bruce shouldn't have been surprised, but the results were staring him down in the face. He wondered how many other scenarios Deathstroke had forced Dick into that required him to conform his behavior and adapt in a way that not only addressed the issue at hand, but also offered Deathstroke his preferred outcome. The man was too masterful to be allowed dictation over Dick’s life. He had barely issued a single order, and Dick was already taking control of his men and the situation, filling in the gaps where he thought he was needed and adjusting himself to accommodate any lackings, just like you trained him to, a dark voice purred back in his mind.

“Status?” Slade directed it at Dick, demanding his own report and explanation of events. Dick looked weary and not all there, but he pulled himself upright and somewhat to an attention stance, “The base was taken with little fanfare. A handful of men were injured, but no deaths. We've sedated and locked away the men who were manning the base, but they were barely trained. I assume they really were technicians first and foremost-soldiers second. One man was overlooked-wasn't downed like we assumed and got the jump on me” Dick glanced away casually, “The effects of the chip were startling, but more similar to a shock. Wildcat was quick to separate it from my neck, and delegated most men to securing the stored chips and devices. I took a moment outside, and that's when I noticed Klarion. I assume he was here for the purpose of spying-some sort of covert intel mission for Queen Bee or the Light as a whole. I cornered him, and” Dick closed his eyes as if re-gathering his patience, “He demanded I give him a hug”

Jason snickered and Dick sent him a sharp warning look, “But I am not completely aware of what happened after that,” he finished and looked back to Slade. The man nodded, appeased for the moment.

“Our next steps do not change, present company or not” Dick glanced to his brothers and nodded, “Unless they respond with something unexpected, we just have to sure up on own defenses”

“The fact that the Light saw fit to send out Klarion for intel verification gives me reason to believe that they have no other means of action at this moment”

Damian crossed his arms, “The Light has access to enormous resources. The entirety of the shadow’s assassins for one. Queen Bee’s personal militia forces for another. Not to mention looking to external factors like sicking Sportsmaster or Bane on you”

Slade shook his head, "Too much of a single risk. If Queen Bee won't offer her forces from Western Africa, Ra's won't send out his shadows. A stalemate of egos"

Dick sighed, “The Light can do that stuff. They've proven more than capable before, but we attacked so last minute and so full force, and at so many of their utmost utilized bases to put them between a rock  and a hard place”

“You want the Light to start in-fighting,” Red Robin surmised. Dick nodded in place of Slade's blank stare. Bruce didn't look pleased, “They're going to utilize every connection and resource they can to decimate you, not minimize your threat. This is an affront they won't look past,” Batman warned, “This was done recklessly"

“Their plans for me and my student were something I will not look past,” Slade returned coldly.

“So what?” Red Hood slipped his jacket back on, “You want those fucktards to fight over whose gonna volunteer their manpower first?”

Bruce answered for Dick, “They won't be able to do that until they handle Luthor’s mishap, and when that discussion is finally tabled, it will be an enormous hurdle for them to come to an agreement. No one will want to volunteer their weapons, men, or resources first. It will delay them and possibly crumble their organizational foundation, making their efficiency and next attack even weaker”

“Their assault will undoubtedly be less organized and supported,” Deathstroke commented, “This was always intended to be a blow, not an execution” he made snide eye contact with Batman, “Safer that way”

Chapter 50

Notes:

hey there! New ch. character death...so sad jk not really

“So…” Dick began. He stood before Klarion with a distorted presence that exuded an angry calm, “You really thought this was a good idea?”

Klarion squirmed under his attention, “Manbat said I could leave if I stopped our connection” he pointed out.

Dick frowned, “It wasn't a connection,” he snapped, “It was control . And I couldn't give 2 shits about what Manbat said” he cocked his head, “He's not in control here”

Klarion tried to cross his arms, but all he managed was a strange flapping motion, “But he said so!” he whined.

Dick laughed with a slight tinge of incredulity. He looked to Wildcat, who had stepped up to his side, as was expected of any commanding officer’s second, “I'm gonna kill him,” he half laughed, his eyes were wide and far too committed.

“Come on, Dick”, Red Robin tried for the 5th time, “Let us take him back. Put him in League custody”

Without looking, Dick responded, “Sorry, Timmy. Been there, done that-”

Klarion forced out an abrasive laugh, “Hah! Do that again” he looked at Dick and pointed at Robin, “Be mean! Again! Ha! Agi-”

“Ok,” Dick heaved himself upright and held out his hand to Wildcat. His second was quick to place a field standard serrated knife in his palm.

“Dick!” Batman barked. He was quick to place himself at his oldest’s side, “Stop”

“No! Nononononon” Klarion squeaked, “I-I-I haven't even told you about the girl yet!”

Dick froze, “What girl?”

Klarion gulped and looked down at his lap, “The little witchy girl. She’s dark and purple, but pale and black and-”

“You did kidnap a kid,” Dick breathed. His eyes, once a murky gold, brightened to a clear and polished bronze. His features calmed to a dangerous level. He looked back at Slade, “I thought your men didn't find anything on a kid at the Shadow’s base”

Slade didn't reply at first, “They didn't. It seems I may have some men to retire”

Dick turned back to Klarion, “Where is she? Who is she? And why did you kidnap her?”

Batman allowed the interrogation as it fueled Dick with a need for information, rather than vengeance. Klarion wrinkled his nose, “I'm like 110% I can't just tell you,” he sang in a low, pitchy tone.

Dick lightly traced the tip of his knife along Klarion’s raised arm, “Do you really think I care?”

Klarion looked absolutely frozen beneath the gentle movement. Dick sighed, “Fine, answer me this first: Is she at Ra’s primary base? In the Middle East?” Klarion nodded slowly, “You called her little witch. Is she a witch? Are you related?”

That startled Klarion, and his nose srunched in disgust “No! That demon baby doesn't have a drop of my blood”

Red Hood leaned down to Robin’s side, “You hear that? Might be a long-lost cousin” 

“Why did you take her? How old is she?”

Klarion opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off, “Why did Queen Bee have you kidnap her? And from where?”

Klarion tossed his chin like his hair was longer than it was, “Some disgusting world,” he waved a hand, “Don't even bother yourself with that apocalyptic mess”

Tim gasped, “You took someone when you went world hopping?”

Dick snapped his attention from Tim and back again, “What?” he demanded sharply. Klarion made an “Eep” sound before pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Batman looked furious, “You transported yourself to another world and kidnapped a child? Why would the Light order you to?”

Klarion’s lips twisted, “My mistress just wanted me to get more powerful…er”

Batman didn't miss a beat in his interrogation, “You were ordered to steal magic from this child?”

Dick’s brow ticked up and in, “You're killing her!” he was in the witch’s face in moments, “You're going to take me to her an-”

Klarion was quick to snap out and bite at the hand clutching his collar. Dick yelped out in surprise and dropped the slimmer man. He swiped his hand through the air as if to physically ward off whatever germs had laid waste to his skin. He looked at the witch in astonishment before delivering a swift blow to the head.

“Dick!” Batman barked, but it was too late. Klarion’s head snapped to the side, and the witch fell limp. Dick clutched his hand more in disgust than pain, “He's fine, but I do hope I gave him concussion”

“So you knew about this girl?” Damian confirmed. Dick shrugged, “Klarion let some stuff slip before, so I asked, but I had some of our men look into it, and they never found any kid being held captive. I chalked it up to him being bat-shit”

“This is why we need to stay informed!” Tim nearly pointed at Dick, “This is bad. Everything points to Queen Bee trying to up Klarion’s power for something-it’s even worse if the whole of the Light is in on it”

Dick looked unsure, “Hard to tell with Klarion. He's mentally unstable, Tim”

Tim shook his head, “Yeah, sure, but this wasn't his idea. He's been siphoning magic from another magical being on the orders of Queen Bee. No one charges a phone; just have it sit there, Dick. They charge a phone to use it. They have plans, and obviously, you don't have the slightest clue” 

Dick glanced at Slade before looking back at his brother, “It doesn't matter at the moment. We crippled the Light, and that was the priority for the day. We can't overextend ourselves. We need to get out of here and regroup. Then you need to take whoever else you dragged into this and go home. I'll be looking into the kidnapping again and make sure it’s addressed”

Dick offered another hateful look to Klarion before turning away and muttering harsh scathings under his breath. He made to move forward, but realized that Bruce was still before him, unmoving. He looked up at Bruce and hated how the lack of distance made him look up more blatantly. 

“What?” he demanded.

Bruce’s jaw clenched, “Stop this, Dick. Come home. You’ve done more damage in a day than the League has been able to safely do in a decade. You've made progress against the Light. Cobb is on the run, and we can help you find him and jail him”

“I refuse to allow him to ruin another second of the air we all breathe,” Dick ground out.

Bruce responded similarly, “He’s an abomination, Dick. He doesn't deserve a quick end, and you aren't an executioner. Let us help you catch him, and let me find the deepest, darkest hole Amanda Waller has access to. He will rot. Come home, Dick”

Dick’s features smoothed into something unreadable, “You're right, B. I'm close. But I can't stop just because you're here to insist on it. My plans and goals are still the same. You can't just ask me to stop when I'm this close, B”

Bruce’s lips thinned into something mirror concrete, “I'm not asking, Dick”

Dick made an “O” before smiling sardonically. He stepped back slowly and a small grin speared his lips, “Is that so?”

“I've let this go too far,” Bruce allowed Dick to create distance, but kept his position, blocking him from the doorway and the others. 

“B,” Red Robin warned, but was ignored.

“I thought that giving you the freedom to make your mistakes, with us in reach, would be fine. You would realize this life isn't for you. That he is doing nothing but using you-sending you after things that you never would have considered before-”

“Before what?” Dick asked, “Before I died? Before you let the Court of Owls take me? Before I started shooting up for every goddamn headache?”

“You aren't getting better,” Bruce replied firmly, “You're getting worse, and if I don't step in and stop you, you’re going to do more than ruin yourself. You're actively searching for lives to end, Dick. I can look past what the Court forced you to do. I can forgive the damage incurred when you were amnesiac and half aware, but you're toeing the line, Dick”

Dick looked on, entirely too amused. Past that, Bruce saw the glint, the forcefulness of the scrunch beside his eyes, and the quiver of his chin as he maintained the uptilt to his lips. He wasn't sure if his son was struggling to maintain the facade or if he was holding back his anger, but his son was lying to himself-to everyone.

“I didn't realize your unconditional love came with conditions, B”

Bruce clenched his fists and stepped forward, “It doesn't,” he confirmed, “But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to keep down this path. You have my support, my love, my attention. You don't have my approval”

Dick’s smile widened, and he looked like he wanted to applaud Bruce for the speech, “Did ChatGPT write that for you? A little too emotionally competent if you ask me”

“I'm not kidding, Dick. No more chances,  no-”

“Hey, Jaybird,” Dick called. He detached his attention from the Dark Knight and looked past him to where his brothers stood in the doorway. Their figures tensed and at the ready, “When did Bruce give you the talk, huh? The I love you, but you can't continue like this,” Dick dropped his voice to a low tone.

Jason crossed his arms, “Don't turn this on me, Dick. I'll be the first one to vote against the old man, but for once, he's right. He's fucked up for what he's doing and is a total fucking hypocrite, but we can all see how out of your depth you are. The pervert isn't doing you any good”

Dick nodded and looked thoughtful, “So that's a no,” he disregarded everything that was just said. He looked back at Bruce, “It's a no because obviously Jason is still out there playing crimelord. Dressing up and acting all badass while Batman overlooks his shipments or his little turf wars, right?” Dick put a thoughtful finger to his bottom lip, “I wonder why…even after he died, and came back, you never tried to fire him like me. You never followed through on your threat to throw him in Arkham. You never tried to stop him from becoming Red Hood-not really. So Bruce, why me? Huh? Even after all this,” Dick spread his arms wide, “Am I still the nonconsensual standard for our little fucked up family?”

Bruce’s muscles were locked and solid, containing the obvious storm that brewed beneath the cowl, “You can’t keep trying to push us away Di-”

“Oh my god!” Dick yelled out, “Did you even listen to me?! Do you ever?!” His eyes were wide in outrage, and his voice was as loud as he could get without cracking. 

“Fine, fine,” he took a breath and stepped back, “I just need to convince you that my actions are mine. That-” he dug his comm from his ear sand tossed it away, “That I don't have a fucking mind controling little ear worm telling when to shoot and piss. But maybe you'd like that-prefer it even. Do you Bruce? Do you like this painful back and forth” he chuckled, “I really shouldn't be surprised. You would be a closet masochist” 

Dick clenched the knife in his hand even tighter before he took a breath and seemingly replaced his frustration with something more mature, more detached, “Here, I'll help us both out. Make this more black and white, like you obviously prefer”

“Richard-” Dick cut off the youngest Bat, “Watch me toe the line, guys!” Dick called cheerfully. Bruce reacted and reached out, but it was too late. Dick turned on the balls of his feet and threw out his arm in a graceful arch. Looking back, time seemed to slow in the way the blade left Dick’s fingertips and flew in a straight rotating arch. In reality, it was the span of a breath before the knife embedded itself in Klarion’s forehead. A wet, fleshy thunk resonated in the room, and everyone watched as the light left his eyes and he slumped. His body pulled down in an odd, doll-like manner, as he had been sitting straight up when killed. His arms still hung above his head, but his fingers dropped and stilled, complementing the grotesque marionette image.

Jason threw his head back and emitted a rough bark of laughter at the quickly spiralling situation. That seemed to throw everything into chaos as Wildcat moved to place himself in front of Dick. Red Robin and Robin threw themselves at him in return, resulting in a quick scuffle. Bruce acted and lunged at Dick. Dick allowed it and quickly found himself pressed against the wall. His wrist was taken roughly and shaken until he dropped his knife. He looked up at Bruce, “Now you gotta do more than make threats and promises, B,” Dick said, “Go on, arrest me,” he egged.

Bruce had had enough. His breathing was heavy and his cowell's eyes were as wide as they could stretch, “This is what I'm talking about, Dick! You just took his life! For what? Mental assault? Making you a child for nearly a week? How do those infractions constitute the loss of life? He's manipulating you!” Bruce shouted into the shorter man’s face.

Dick scowled back, “Fuck you,” he said quietly.

Bruce’s breath caught, but he seemed to acknowledge Dick’s resistance wouldn't wane, “Fine,” he said lowly, “I'll arrest you if that's what you want. If you want me to force you to stop this awful crusade of yours. I’ll be the bad guy for you”

Dick’s eyes bulged, “You-you actually think I want that?! You’re doing it again B! You're making yourself out to be the good guy because you think I'm forcing you to do this!” his fingers spasmed in the tight grip of the Bat, “These are all your choices! You’re so fucking dense! Just listen to me! Listen!”

“I'm taking you home. We will fix this,” Bruce promised. A click echoed too closely behind his head. Dick and Bruce froze. Dick glanced behind Bruce and made eye contact with someone taller, “Dont,” he said lowly. Bruce kept his hold on Dick, but turned his head to make eye contact with the barrel of a gun, and right behind-Deathstroke, “I've allowed enough as it is. You've delayed us enough as it is”

“I'm going to put you in a hole, Wilson. One you'll never get out of”

Slade chuckled, “I hope it’s deeper than your second boy’s, or else that's not going to be the threat you hope it is”

“Ok”, Jason pulled out his own gun, “Now it’s personal”

“It wasn't personal when he pulled a gun on Father?!” Damian squacked from where he and Tim had Wildcat pinned. Dick offered their strange pile of 3 a smirk, “You know that won’t hold him, right?”

Damian tsked, “Richard, use your eyes”

Dick scolwed but flicked 2 fingers up in a wordless motion. Wildcat, partially advantaged by Tim and Damian’s distraction, shoved his knees up at the same time his chest dropped. The brothers fell forward and scrambled to pin him again. Wildcat was quick to throw his legs out in the splits and shove up into a strange tricep pushup that forced the boys to either balance on his suddenly elevated chest or slide off to the side. Damian attempted to wrangle the older man while Tim let go and reached for his bo-staff. That was all that was needed for Wildcat to twist his torso and then his legs, forcing Tim to shuffle back and avoid being kicked while Damian got tangled up in his legs. The dark skinned man was quick to let go the moment he had his feet under him and glanced at Dick, who nodded once, “There’s a reason I picked him, guys,” Dick explained with a light tinge of apology to his voice. He looked at the shorter man, “If they were heavier, you couldn't have used that twist, you know”

“Dude!” Jason snapped, “You're cornered, and there’s guns everywhere-stop coddling them. This isn't a teaching moment”

“I believe it is,” Slade interjected smoothly, “This is a very valuable moment to be reminded that dear daddy here doesn't respect any outcome that wasn't formulated by that big ocd brain of his”

“If you don't stop interjecting into the lives of my children, I am going to make you wish I had killed you, Wilson”

Slade observed Bruce cooly for a moment before his gaze slid to Dick in something more reflective of amusement, “Renegade”

Dick returned the look with a slight dip to his head, “Yes, Sir”

Dick made to move past Bruce, but the man held firm, “Dick-”

“Are you really gonna fight us, Bruce? Me?” he looked around, “Don't get my brothers involved in something just because you can't wrap your head around something. Besides, at the very least, you know you’ll lose. If your backup at Falcon’s manages to make it past her and over here, we still have the advantage”

Bruce understood that Dick was threatening to use his men, his 3rd and 4th outposted section of their militia army, to subdue him and the others. How far are you willing to go? was silently asked, but never voiced. He didn't relent. Instead, he gripped Dick tighter and shifted his touch to covet Dick’s biceps, “We'll figure it out, Dick. Please, listen to reason. I can help you get vengeance. This is only going to make the hole inside bigger”

Dick smiled and cocked his head, allowing Bruce to manhandle him, "No, we won't B. I can't do that to you. To them,” he nodded at his brothers.

“Dick-”

“No, Bruce, besides….as much as I want to be 13 again and let you make my decisions for me. Making you choose between me and the code is like 2 divorcing parents making their child choose. I can't do that to you. I'd rather pretend to force you and let you hate me for it instead of giving you the choice, and knowing you'd hate yourself infinitely more because you tried to make me happy. Gotham has always had your heart, B, don't deny it” A disappointed expression ghosted Dick's, "It's not fair that I'm the only one that's accepting reality"

Bruce searched Dick's face for confirmation that he wanted Bruce to fight him and to rebuke his condemning beliefs. He wanted his son to want him to disagree. He wanted to find the same look that he'd seen in Jason's eyes in Dick's, the look that screamed, save me from what I feel I'm obligated to do. There was nothing. Rueful sorrow turned up Dick's lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes. Dick still thought he could save his family by pushing them away and martyring himself.

“You're going to hate me, but I will save you from this,” Bruce vowed, "You aren't the parent here"

Dick watched his dad, understanding what he meant. I'm going to let you go now only because of the physical impossibility of beating all of Wilson’s men at the moment. But I won't let you parade around like this anymore. Every time they met, moving forward would be another full-blown attempt to cut Dick's intent for justice short. From here on out, he wasn't facing Bruce in the cowel, he was facing the Bat.

Dick didn't smile, but he nodded thankfully, “Ok, B”

_____________________________________________________________________________

The cave was tense after arriving home. After Batman relented, Dick and Slade took a side note, conversing quietly on what to do next. Jason had nearly instigated a fight after getting into Wildcat’s face and egging him to fight the one brother who was heavier, as Dick had pointed out earlier. Realizing how close they were to causing chaos, Dick shut down their interactions with a stern look to his 4th. He sent Wildcat back to their west coast base with strict instructions to organize the wounded and see to it that defenses were built up and prepared. Everything from technical software updates and firewall securities, CTV and facial recognition cameras in the area, and biometric locks, weaponry, armory checks, and double checks-everything and anything. And then after that was confirmed, he was to start seeing to the other bases and ensuring communication was within a 5-second delay in case the Light took after them and targeted their smaller bases.

Wildcat couldn't handle everything on his own; he was a close combat and field specialist, but he held the authority to see to it that Slade’s professionals for each category of necessary work reported to him and started the initial steps. Dick ordered the remaining men to see to the remaining chips and computers, ordering everything, except 1 box of chips, destroyed and made unsalvable. After that, they were given orders to meet up with Slde’s previous group and clear out that base before heading back to the compound. Dick, after guaranteeing he would check in and report to Slade within the hour, stayed back. He hadn't spoken much despite Damian’s insistence and Jason’s prodding. Tim, ever the most resilient, was quiet. Bruce had been too, although most would agree it was more from being silenced into a simmering rage than was Tim’s quiet reflectiveness. 

Dick ordered Falcon to do similarly with her team, but that she and a few men stay behind while Dick zeta’d Bruce and his brothers to her location. It was not a joyous reunion. Wally had barely wasted a second. He’d charged Dick and had been in his face, demanding information and yelling variations of What were you thinking? That had nearly gotten him shot by the remaining soldiers left behind, and moved to further sour Dick’s mood. He’d greeted Dinah when it became apparent she was the least judgmental person there. He’d been quick to crumble beneath her gaze. It wasn't a surprise as she was the aunt and mother figure to the original Young Justice team, who also acted as their team supervisor and therapist. She knew most of them inside and out, and as a fellow hero, understood their anger and woe, and the need to throw themselves into the field, further enabling negative emotional self-management.

He’d greeted the others but refrained from touching. Roy had patted him on the back, but stopped at the way Dick went stiff. Aretmis had been surprised when Dick commented on her hair. She’d gotten a few inches trimmed and had lightened it with lemons, but was self-conscious about the fact. A minor, civilian concern in retrospect. 

“It's ok, Arty,” Dick said with a calm, matter-of-fact tone, “Most blondes don't stay blonde unless they're platinum, you know? I don't think it'll get too much darker though”

It was a topic and comment that unnerved them all. Everyone agreed on how much they despised the conflicting emotions Dick was able to arouse in them all. His appearance screamed strange, and his behavior yelled violence. But his words and expressions were the Robin they'd all grown up with. The Nightwing who inspired the next generation of sidekicks. Batgirl had been a sight to see. She’d started off awkward and silent, but the longer Dick greeted them all semi-professionally, the more vocal and unapproving she became. Dick didn't mention her last plea to him, nor the information she'd blurted out in an effort to get him to stay. She let that lie for now.

Dick hadn't been very forthcoming with the entire group, brushing off their demands for information with statements that laid their expectations on Bruce and his brothers, “They know. You can all talk and debrief when you're home. We've been out long enough as it is, and I'm now at war with the Light. Any and all of their bases are considered too risky to revisit. You need to leave now. Association with me just got even riskier”

After some more arguing, the group zeta’d back to Mt. Justice and then went their separate ways. The young adults only left after Dinah promised them to hold a formal meeting and have their concerns addressed by League officials. Jason didn't intend to stick around after they arrived back at the cave. He’d made for his bike and barely stopped at the sound of Bruce’s voice, “Jason, stop” 

He kept going, “Jas-”

He whirled around on his heel, “No! Fuck off!”

“Jason!” Tim snapped, “We gotta tal-”

“There's nothing to talk about!” he spat, “I'm not gonna be tugged around while he makes all these decisions without us” he pointed at Bruce, “This is fucked. Dick is fucked, and I'm not sticking around to the shit fire this turns into”

“You’re walking away?!” Tim looked furious, “Now!?” Jason had put on such a display back in front of Dick and Deathstroke. The sudden flip in his attitude was shock and disappointment.

“I never should've gotten this involved. I only promised to help a few times, and to never speak to Bruce. Look where we are now! Half the JL doesn't even support what we’re doing”

“You're giving up on Dick?” Bruce’s voice was low and monotonous.

Jason simmered quietly as the skin around his eyes and lips tightened, “No…not Dick”

“Todd!” Damian snapped only to be ignored. He threw his leg over his bike and started up the engine with a ferocity that wasn't necessary. He looked back at them, “Do right by us, or don't” Jason shoved his helmet on over his head, “But don't try to do both,” came the angry, muffled order.

Chapter 51

Notes:

Hey there! New ch here. Sooooo close to writing the last ch

The air filling his lungs in short bursts burned his nostrils and throat, but it felt good. It felt motivating. Dick dropped into a low crouch and spun to lash out at the dummy combat figure with his heel. The sand figure wobbled savagely from the force, but stayed quiet beneath the sounds of wet, ragged panting. 

His last 2 victims were strewn across the room, and the assortment of weapons that were buried in the heads and torsos were visible from afar. He’d felt so distant from himself lately, so out of sorts and unable to grasp onto anything solid-mentally or physically. The only thing that seemed to work-that seemed to motivate him and anchor him. His daily aches allowed him to think clearly when he ran drills and exercises for his team. His constant headache reminded him to hydrate and attend meals. His soreness was anchoring in a way that felt like a necessity, a friend whose presence didn't socially exhaust him while still offering the presence of a companion.

He grunted and offered a yell to throw his weight into his spinning elbow, but he’d been at this for a least 3 hours now and his muscles were begging for a respite. His throat was parched, and he knew he needed water, but the stinging soreness that reverberated down when he swallowed felt pleasurable in the same way pinching himself did when he was in need of a distraction. It wasn't actually painful, but verged on the sensation badly enough to be called so.

The door opening at his back vaguely registered, not until the only person higher ranking than him spoke, “I didn’t realize your death was among the many steps we’d discussed in Cobb’s demise”

Dick halted in confusion and turned to see Deathstroke, sans mask and most of his weapons. The man was leaning against one of the thin, tall lockers stationed against the entrance wall to the gym. When the mercenary didn't elaborate, Dick released an out-of-breath, “What?”

The white haired man pushed off his shoulder and stood straight. He nodded to Dick’s past and present victims, “Your intention must be to kill yourself, because you’re hitting under your recommended caloric intake, you're barely hitting your required hydration levels, your team has reported only seeing you at scheduled trainings, and you've gone cold turkey from your favored little morning shots”

Dick scowled at the way Slade listed off his recent behaviors like they were incriminations he was attempting to hide, “There's nothing to do right now,” he retorted, “Get off my back, Slade” They'd been in hiding for a while, waiting out the Light, but Slade hated Dick's use of the word hide.

Slade’s shoulder rose and fell quickly, “On the contrary. My bases and ground units have never had their hands plenty busy”

Dick rolled his eyes, “Constant surveillance and security upkeep is one thing. I'm-”

“Driving yourself into the ground”

Dick dropped his attempt to return to his combat dummy and frowned, “Is there a point to this? You want me to drink more water? Sure Mom, whatever. I'm training. It's necessary. As soon as we move, it'll be to go after Cobb or to respond to whatever the Light can attack with. Either way, I can't let my guard down”

“Is that so?”

Slade’s tone brokered a certain level of wariness in Dick. He eyed the larger man as he approached under a facade of nonchalant calm. He watched the man casually select a staff from the wall of assorted weapons, pretending to choose one at random. Dick narrowed his eyes, knowing that Deathstroke never did or acted on a whim. Everything was planned and calculated.

“I'm just finishing up he-”

“No,” the tone was steady and calm, everything Dick was starting to lose, “You aren't”

The mercenary made his way back to the center of the room and stopped. He offered his student a single look, demanding his attention and presence. Dick proceeded forward, feeling drained and on edge, but the moment he was within reach, all hell broke loose. Dick expected to spar, maybe even a beat-down for his recent attitude and slipping respect of policy and reform within Slade’s base, but he wasn't prepared for the man to be leaning against his hip one moment and for his bo-staff to be smashed against Dick’s temple the next. Dick cursed and yelled out, his hands instinctively throwing themselves out to catch himself. He flipped away twice and tried to right his vision.

As soon as his feet landed, he planted his heels and peeked a glimpse only to jerk and drop down in order to avoid another swipe at his figure. Dick was quick to avoid, but his muscles were desperate to remind him that they were long past gaining a second wind.

Great, Dick thought, So this is gonna be a beat down.

Slade swiped, Dick jumped. The man turned and lashed down, Dick dropped and evaded. He knew the man wouldn't be pleased with his reliance on defense and evasion, but Dick knew, with a certainty that was mentally tiring, that trying to summon enough energy to attack and land an attack, let alone enough to make a difference, was near impossible. Dick had been throwing himself at every inanimate object he could for the last 3 hours, but this new assault coupled wth his lack of proper sleep and nutrition was far too taxing on his body. His mind and hormonal regulation weren't much better since he’d stopped taking shots of cryo freeze after Cobb’s attack in Canada. He’d felt out of sorts and clung to constant activity and mental occupation to keep going. 

Whether it was saving his brothers from a bomb or assassinating an Owl while on an assigned date with a Russian arms-dealing heiress, Dick found himself only able to function under the guise of being busy. He knew Slade saw that and took advantage of it. He had had Dick busy since he was able to walk unaided: overseeing trainings, security checks, base maintenance confirmations, and more, all when he was home from the constant missions the man sent him on.

It wasn't long before Dick slowed too much to avoid the agile man. He took a punch to the gut and a swipe to the shoulder. He went spinning with the hit to his right, and the man took the opportunity to trip him. His arm was grabbed and twisted to the small of his back. He jerked and cursed as the nerves along his arms spasmed sharply. His left hand shot out to catch the ground before he was forced to faceplant, and that's how they stayed for nearly an entire minute. Dick gasped and panted as he stared down at the ground. His abdomen was clenched, and desperate to maintain his balance as he was forced to wobble on one arm. He tried to maintain his concentration by counting every drop of sweat that fell past his skin to take residence on the mats below him. His left elbow trembled occasionally, but the man above didn't relent. He forced his weight down and down until Dick couldn't handle the pressure.  

He felt the collapse of his arm moments before it happened. He twisted his arms away to lie flush against his side and minimize any muscle damage at the same moment his body collapsed. He turned his face so his cheek met the ground instead of his nose, but his body crashed to the ground just the same. A grunt escaped his throat unwillingly, but the mercenary above him didn't relent for a long while. Dick eventually let himself fall limp and accept that he would stay there until the man was appeased. He was hungry and tired and thirsty, and that was before he’d thrown himself into an exaggerated workout routine. 

Pressed into the mats with his arm thumping in pain and his body humming with soreness, Dick understood that Slade was reminding him of his limits. As much as the man liked to flaunt his enhanced status and his above-average capabilities, he preferred intellect over all else. And being smart meant acknowledging your limits, even if they were far past the average person’s. Eventually, Slade shifted his grip but didn't lessen the pressure. Instead, one hand moved to support his weight by Dick’s head, and the other hand moved to hold him down by his nape, almost scruffing him like a dog, “This better not happen again. Lessons and external factors can break you down and wear on you, but if you allow yourself to become this weak and vulnerable, out and sheer self-neglect, I'll make you regret it. Self-injury is not what leads to self-improvement”

Dick’s chest heated with a sudden spike of anger, a combination of frustration and resentment. He’d been forcibly made into some superhuman freak, a creature made to resemble a God as much as a human could, and still-even now, he was bound by some limits, some restraint out of his control. Even if it was just his body’s own limits. Despite not having the stamina for it, he forced his limbs to obey and push against the mats. He reared up and threw his head back, forcing Slade to shift. He turned on his side and partially sat up, “I got it,” he spat.

From where Slade knelt in front of him, Dick could see the man’s steely grey eye light up with something almost reminiscent of hunger….or pleasure. The larger man dragged his attention up and down Dick’s body slowly, taking his time. Dick wasn't sure if he was looking his fill or looking for something else. Eventually, the man nodded, somewhat appeased, “Good,” he replied lowly.

The man stood up and made his way over to the furthest wall, where a desk and a few laptops sat. Dick sensed their interaction wasn't over quite yet, and curiosity kept him still and on the floor. Slade was quick to return with a wallet, further confusing Dick. He silently directed a bewildered expression up at Slade. The man ignored him and knelt. He flipped the wallet open and flipped through a few sleek black cards. He pulled out the second-to-last one and held it out to Dick. He took the card and glanced down. It was a shiny credit card with the name Randall William. He quirked a brow up at Slade, “You know what they say? Never trust someone with 2 first names”

Slade ignored his attempt at humor and leaned in until their lips were ghosting each other’s on every exhale, “Take a break, kid, that's an order. You aren't doing anything for anyone by trying to shut your mind off like this”

Stunned, Dick asked, “You’re ordering me to take a vacation? We're at war with 2 different groups right now. 3, if you count how I ended things with B not too long ago”

Slade wasn't bothered, “Check in every 12 hours. Don't turn off your location and-” the man leaned in even closer, and Dick could taste the stale mint on the man’s breath, feel the slight brush from his facial hair, “Buy yourself something nice”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Wildcat and Eerie were silent as they made their way down the hallway. Usually, Eerie would have been suspicious of Wildcat's subdudeness, but after being caught mouthing off by Major Wintergreen last time, Wildcat seemed to have learned his lesson on expected behavior within the executive leadership wing. Renegade called them down to his rooms after lunch and informed them he had a quick update for them. Falcon wasn't able to make it as she had private trainings scheduled with other combat sectors, but Renegade was understanding on his worst days, leading to them knowing their team lead would understand. 

The pair were still dressed in their bulletproof vests from training, having gone straight to lunch, and then received their summons. Wildcat saluted a ceiling camera as they passed, earning an eye roll from Eerie. He was about to whisper a threat when murmuring caught both their attention. The pair stilled, instinctively expecting someone higher rank. When no one turned the corner and happened upon them, they relaxed slightly. Still, the low voice persisted.

It was strange and not something that was easily discernible. The voice was low and short, speaking in rough guttural phrases. Wildcat looked at Eerie and held his fingers to his ear in a way that resembled a landline phone, "Phone call?" he mouthed. Eerie didn't hear anyone else speaking and nodded warily. He shrugged after a moment, admitting that he wasn't sure what they were hearing. They slowly rounded the corner to Renegade's and the Colonel's shared wing and realized Renegade's bedroom door was wide open. The voice continued and the pair slowed, realizing they were encroaching on Renegade. Much closer to the voice and cautious, they were able to pick up what he was muttering, "Blue!"

Wildcat made a face at the barked command. It was whispered, but the force behind the word gave it some measure of sound from his throat. Before they could move, Renegade spoke again, "Blue! Blue!"

Wildcat put a finger to his lips and crept forward, ignoring Eerie's sharp look. The taller man looked around, entirely too aware of the fact that they were spying on their team lead, and that was enough to get them lashings, probably a demotion. Which was worse than death in some ways, because that meant being subject to the Colonel without Renegade's protection. Eerie followed and peered around the corner after Wildcat. The ajarred door revealed the back of Renegade. He was hunched over a dresser that offered him a place to lean forward and place his elbows at an appropriate height, "At ease"

Eerie felt his pulse leap into his throat, assuming Renegade heard them. He froze and watched the man's back with wide eyes, but he didn't turn. 

"At ease," Renegade repeated in an equally deep tone; the phrasing of the word was different the second time. The two watched Renegade as he repeated phrases over and over again. Most of them were just 1 or two words, but the intent behind them was self-deprecating. Like he was somehow shaming himself with the word blue. The two soldiers stood cautiously and quietly, unsure of how to proceed. Just when Wildcat seemed to have built up the courage to announce themselves, Renegade slammed his fist down on the top of the dresser, "God dammit!" he yelled at the wall inches from his face. He dropped his head to hang low between his shoulder blades. 

Eerie observed his team lead's figure, realizing there were slight tremors that vibrated his skin along each exhale. He clapped a hand on the shorter Wildcat and spoke, "See? I told you he wouldn't be surprised"

Wildcat wasn't the most mature soldier that lived, but Eerie knew his teammate was not an idiot, "I thought I could sneak up on him for once!"

Renegade turned smoothly, "You did, did you?" Playing into their narrative instantly. Eerie shook his head at Wildcat's antics, "You wanted to see us?"

Renegade looked past them, "Falcon busy?"

Eerie nodded, "2 more special ops trainings today. We can come back-"

He was waved off, "No, no. It's fine. I just wanted to check in with you guys before I left"

Wildcat cocked his head, "Another mission, Sir?"

Renegade smirked, "No, actually. I think I've been getting on Master's nerves a little too much, he's ordered me to take a little vaca"

Eerie's eyes instantly jumped to the duffel bag on the edge of the simple twin bed. Their team lead nodded, "I just wanted to check in with you guys to make sure I wasn't leaving anything unattended or unaddressed. I'm not going off-grid or anything. That would be a death sentence with how the Light's got ninjas and soldiers hunting us right now. Not to mention the JL"

Eerie frowned softly, "I was just about to ask about...that, Sir"

The dark-haired man smiled grimly, "Yeaaa. Don't worry, I've got check-ins every few hours with the Colonel and I'm not leaving base defenseless. I think he's just fed up with how many training dummies I've ruined"

Wildcat laughed, "I think it's fair to say we've all gone a little stir crazy recently. What with all these emergency trainings, but no leaving the base for so long..."

Their team lead smiled sheepishly, "Yeaaa. I used to be good at multitasking stress, but I guess I'm kind of losing it. But before I leave, I wanted to debrief with you guys so I can take care of anything you need before you're just regular grunts again for a while"

Wildcat nodded brightly and started listing off anything and everything on a whim. Eerie smacked him over the back of the head and stepped forward so he could start addressing things that hadn't been resolved or items that needed to be initiated before Renegade left, because no one else had the authority to do so. Renegade knew that 9 out of 10 soldiers were smart enough to keep their mouths shut rather than go to Deathstroke for a formal request. Only department heads or reported emergencies really made the cut.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Very few places gave him any comfort or solace, and fewer gave him those feelings of contentment for a short while. He spent some time getting a nice tan in Italy. He’d always loved carbs and bread, so throwing down Slade’s card for every delicious pasta dish he walked past entertained him for a few days. When he grew tired of the sun, he tried the opposite and found himself in Ireland, touring old castles and leaning over the Cliffs of Moore. The cool weather and constant drizzle were a nice change, but it didn't take long for the overcast skies to affect his mood.

He tried Iceland, Sweden, and Greece after that, but Dick found himself back in America within 3 weeks. He didn't think, he just acted. He was slightly bothered and unsettled, but unsurprised to find himself in Gotham. He hated that he felt the need to hide and disguise himself, but he reassured his insecurities with the notion that it was a legitimate concern. Bruce had confirmed he would use stricter measures to tie him down from now on, and it wasn't like Slade had given Dick his money and permission to go get arrested. He decided not to waste any more time jumping around the world. He knew he missed his family. He knew he missed seeing them. He wanted to do something that was completely at his whim, but also made him feel better, feel more fulfilled, and complete.

A sharp, sudden pang of longing hit him like a knife trying to dig out of his chest. What I wouldn't do to just have an afternoon at the movies with everyone again.

In the end, he decided to make his way to Rhode Island. He’d forced himself to pick a location that wasn't his old apartment and wasn't the manor. Mt. Justice at Happy Harbor was his next best choice. The cool air was a needed contrast to the high UV of the day. He spent the day trying coffee shops or casual restaurants that he’d never had a chance to. It was an attempt to try some new places while also avoiding the frequented places of the first YJ team. It was calming-which both comforted him and unsettled him. Being born in a circus, he always liked to think that he had developed into someone who wasn't materialistic. Someone who could live anywhere with anything. Someone who genuinely used to believe, home is where the heart is-where his dad and brothers were. Being the son of a billionaire didn't really help his image, as every time he did splurge, and buy something, the paparazzi loved to be there.

Despite the feelings he desired to have, he found himself feeling much more at ease at his most recent destination. He checked his peripherals less often, and he found his thoughts drifting away from Slade and his team more and more. Not in the direction of his brothers per se, just away from his constant worries. He found himself focusing on random people passing by. He found himself trying to guess dog breeds on the street or leaning back in his chair to try and eavesdrop in on the tense couple behind his back. Fun, minsicule, and inconsequential things that he hadn't been able to do in years.

All too soon, dusk descended, and Dick decided to continue playing hooky. He knew it would be smart to find a hotel that was well populated and get some rest, but he wanted, very dearly, to act against the rational Bruce and Slade would suggest. Eventually, his wandering found him in a park, and summer had left the night with a slight tinge of warmth. He liked it, feeling like a kid who could stay out late in the hot, sweltering summer air again. At a certain age, the contrast of heat without the sun seemed so fun and exciting to him.

He would never forget the weekends he stayed at Wally’s. They spent the time at Wally’s aunt Iris’s place, and the summer had been hot enough for everyone in the surrounding zipcodes to be blasting their AC units. The power shut off at 6 or so, but that did little to deter Dick and Wally from having fun. He and Wally had still been hyped up on sugar, so Iris sent them out to the cul-de-sac with chalk and flashlights until they tired themselves out. It was fortunate that the cul-de-sac was somewhat private because the dangerous flips that Dick was doing off his friend, who moved as fast as light, would have begged some questions. Looking back, Dick was glad for it because Bruce had too many backup systems and generators in place to ever allow a power outage. Jason’s background didn't allow him to find the same strange joy in the unexpected blackness. The lack of paying the utility bill had often earned him no lights, power, and gas as a kid.

He sent a single check-in to Wintergreen as he wasn't in the mood to have any interaction with Slade at the moment. He allowed his thoughts to drift as he gazed around the poorly lit park. The trees occasionally shifted beneath a breeze or the movement of squirrels and possums, but one moment in particular caught his attention. It was just distant enough from everything else to stand out, too tall to be a bush, and too far away from a tree. It moved, it didn't sway.

Slowly, he turned from the rotting wooden bench he’d found and stepped after it, curious as to whether or not someone had tracked him from country to country. I swear to God if this is Eerie stalking me again…

A light sound registered in his ears and froze his movements. He halted and reconsidered his assumptions when the sound happened again. A laugh, a light one, but not a woman’s or a kid’s. Dick should have turned around and left the pair he was stalking be, but something about the tone and cadence of the laugh was familiar. It was a chuckle that had the vibrato of a giggle. Dick denied the thought the moment it registered. He knew there was no way he had just stumbled across Tim. Contrasting to the content calmness he’d been striving for over the past 3 weeks, desire flushed through him and drove him forward. He settled into a low prowl and continued to slink after the sound of footsteps and distant speaking. The giddiness of a mischievous brother inflated his lungs and turned his lips.

The more Dick focused on them, the more he realized there were a couple of discrepancies. The person on the left was tall and broad with short hair. The person on the right wasn’t short, but compared to the larger build of his companion, he was. The second person was slim and sinewy with even shorter hair, highlighted by occasional head turns that highlighted a slim neck. They stopped along a vacant playground jungle gym, and Dick watched them climb the structure for a few minutes. Eventually, they sat down idly, and the bigger of the two began swinging his legs. Dick eyed his surroundings and spotted a thicker layer of bushes towards his right. He backed up and made his way around until he could approach and use the bushes as a natural cover. 

The street lights had turned on just as he came closer, and Dick found himself spying on the outlines of Tim and Connor. Dick grinned, thoroughly surprised and happy for it. He made to stand up and move forward, but doubt held him back. Something deeper and stronger-fear, maybe insecurity. For the first time in his life and in all his efforts to push his family away and keep them at a distance, he felt like the outsider he’d been trying to become. It wasn't like he was some nosy, overbearing brother about to crash a date. He had no idea what Tim was actually doing out here, what they were talking about…..He was a stranger to his own brother’s personal life. What more did he need to confirm he didn't belong? Despite his goal being achieved, Dick found himself ashamed for being stunned at how much it hurt to see his efforts come to fruition. It was one thing to be excluded or lied to, but to be an outside looking into someone's life he used to be so intimately familiar with...

He awkwardly sat back down, feeling like watching. He knew it was creepy, but it was better than intruding. He let them be, unable to hear what was being said, but content enough to watch their shadows turn up in smiles and for their hands and heads to move as the conversation became more animated. Dick didn't keep track of time, but when his lower back started to ache and his butt fell numb, he assumed it had been at least an hour or two. He was just about to make his exit when he noticed a change in behavior. The pair leaned in closer, sharing something that even the park trees weren't privy to. After Connor hopped down from the slide they’d climbed and set off-most likely back to Mt. Justice for the night.

Dick hesitated, feeling an awkward air fall over the park, made even worse by the fact that Dick was still sitting in the bushes. Before he was able to consider his options: slink away or reveal himself, Tim’s voice rang out, “Were you being loud on purpose?”

Dick smirked, despite himself. He stood up when Tim rotated to face him, “I wasn't, but I also wasn't trying to be as quiet as I should've been,” Dick admitted. 

Tim squinted into the dark, “What happened?” he asked, “Did Slade send you back?”

Dick looked around to make sure it was clear before joining Tim on the playground set, “Nothing happened. Slade didn't like how antsy I've been, so he beat me up and sent me on a vacation”

Tim eyed him, obviously unsure how much was truth and why any of it was funny to his older brother, “What are you doing here? I know we don't have to be on guard of you, but you did kind of set some new boundaries the last time you were here”

“What? Dick smirked, “When you tased me?”

Tim rivaled his look, “Yeah”

Dick didn't answer for a long while, glad to see Tim in a relaxed setting. He’d kept track of his brothers over the years and took note of significant changes and events, but he hadn't been up close and personal for the little things. He didn't get to see if any of them grew into more adult conditions, like being lactose intolerant, or if some of their food preferences had relaxed over the years. Tim, as he always had been, was still the leanest member of their family. If he didn't hold enormous amounts of sinewy muscle and tauntness, Dick would've suggested he masquerade as a girl for special covert missions. His little brother’s eyes were still a dark, murky blue, but he’d tanned slightly, lessening the paleness that he used to share with Alfred. When Dick looked closer, he noticed that Tim’s hair was shorter too, clean shaven along his nape and nearly spiked along his scalp. But despite it all, his brother was not little anymore. He and Damian were about the same height, just under or at 6 feet, except Tim’s features held a sterness that Dick was proud of. That same look on Bruce's face frustrated Dick, but on Tim, it gave Dick a sense of relief that the second-best peacekeeper in their house was learning a hardness that setting boundaries and saying no usually incurred.

Tim’s voice reflected his features when he began, “You know you can’t-”

“Why did you like Ella?”

Tim made a silent choke and did a double take, “What?”

Dick was facing forward, “Not like that, but you took a liking to her…why?” Tim was stunned. He didn't know how to reply, “You know how most people want to pick the most abused-looking dog at the pound-”

“It's not like that,” Tim snapped.

Dick glanced at him before looking back into the dark park, “You know that's not her real name right?”

Tim nodded, “Yeah,” he replied a tad too defensively. Dick’s lips turned up.

“You remember her? Us and all that?”

Dick nodded, but his brow dented slightly, “I do. Not all of it, though. What I can recall is distorted and murky. But I remember you trying to talk to her a lot. Cobb gave her shit for it”

Tim watched Dick’s profile, and his internal question must’ve been plastered over his face. Ella hadn't been one to respond to Cobb's call when he attacked Dick and Slade.

What happened to her?

Tim had looked for a while, scanning police reports or East Coast CTV cameras, but Ella vanished after they rescued Dick.

“She’s dead,” Dick answered. His tone was both cold and soft. An attempt to be realistic and comforting at once. Tim shouldn't have been surprised, or hurt, but he felt his chest squeeze. 

“She escaped” Dick slowly started swinging his legs over the side of the slide, “A few did… the rest were still in their cryo chambers”

“She wasn't one of the ones that responded to Cobb’s call...like return to him”

Tim didn't want to be callous and pose the question, Did you kill her?

Dick nodded, “Neither did Lincoln apparently, but it wasn't because she wanted to leave him. She was dead before that. I tried to find her,” he glanced down, “I'm not really sure why. Maybe I was thinking if I could help her or keep her around, I could show her the way. At least she’d be safe. Scared and on death’s door, but safer than with Cobb”

A smile ghosted his lips, but the effect was poor, “Bruce would've loved her actually. She did what he expected of us-them. She went cold turkey. Didn't go to Cobb for more, didn't try to come to me for more. She didn't like her usefulness or existence and knew letting her electrum run dry was her solution. Even though it would be painful and slow, it was her choice” Dick looked conflicted, “She seemed adamant enough, and it’s actually kind of ironic because it was Bruce who got her killed”

Tim found his jaw dropping slowly, his eyes widening little by little.

“B put out an APB for talons. Anything cult related was to be rerouted to the Bat. I think he just had Babs hack the GPD and set a server software command to scan their new files and send them over, but it was enough”

“So what? Waller found her or-”

“No, it was just the cops. GPD, actually. They saw her and checked all their boxes for red alerts: Batman was interested, obvious meta…. Wrong day, wrong time, wrong behavioral signals that the cops picked up on. She must’ve been low on electrum somehow…I-” Dick lips twisted, “I think she must've bled herself dry to speed up the process because she died on site. It only took like 2 bullets. I never followed up on what they did with her body. Probably some Jane Doe at the morgue that Waller’s people bought for enhanced experimentation”

Tim didn't realize how hot his eyes were until he blinked. A sharp sting surprised him at the same moment hot trails made themselves known. He was quick to wipe them away, but Dick caught it, “Don't-if you're true to Bruce's mission and moral code, then she isn't worth your tears. None of us are”

Dick's words hurt, and Tim frowned, disliking the manipulative way his brother was highlighting his siding with Bruce.

His tears made him feel too vulnerable, too exposed, “Why are you even here?” To keep tabs? To fuck with us?”

Dick looked away and shrugged, “I'm not super sure, honestly. I guess I'm homesick, kinda sad, kinda moody” He grinned, but it didn't make it to his eyes, “Maybe I'm starting my period”

“If Babs heard you say that, she's sock you. Artemis too”

Dick chuckled, “That's why I made it here. Jay would laugh though” 

“They would all laugh at your womanizing moves,” the words left Tim’s mouth before he could think better of it.

Dick was quick to catch on, “What do you know about Ana?”

“Nothing”

“Tim, where the hell did that come fro-”

“We know Ryland is dead”

The short explanation was both concise and horribly enlightening. Dick looked at his brother with a mixture of sheepishness and mortifying shame.

His features pinched with a suddness that stunned Tim, “I-” he spoke quickly like he was rushing the sudden influx of thoughts and emotions, before his anxiety could seal his lips, “I think I might go crazy. When you guys grow up” he audibly swallowed, “When you all grow up and get old and have kids or get married and buy a house have grandkids and-”

“Dick”, Tim rushed to console his brother. He turned to place an arm on him, but Dick shied away. He hopped down from the playground set and looked anywhere but Tim, “I'm fine,” he said more to himself, “And I keep telling myself that I'm fine. And I feel fine, but I've been not-so-fine so many times the logical part of me keeps telling this okayness will only last so long and, and, I just-” Dick broke off and threw his arms up in the air. He clasped his nape and leaned forward, “You will die and I'll still be here. I'll always be here,” he looked at the closest street light, “I'll know your kids, and their kids, but you won't be here…”

“Dick-”

Dick chuckled, but there was a cracked, raw tone to it, “Sorry, Timmy. I shouldn't have thrown this on you. Not like there's anything you guys can do about that. What did Alfred say when we were kids? The only things guaranteed in life are death and taxes? Still, this... whatever has probably done some damage to my psyche”

Tim wasn't too sure what to say. Which issue to address first? Dick was sporadic and releasing every pent-up insecurity in half-sentences. Dick picked up a rock and hefted it in his palm. He pulled his arm back and chucked it as hard as he could. Tim turned to watch it disappear into the dark before a distant branch cracked. He wet his lips, preparing to reconfront his brother, “Wha-” he turned back to find Dick gone. Tim whipped around, scanned the darkened tree line and the damp grass, but Dick was nowhere to be seen.

_____________________________________________________________________________

The hospital room was quiet, but the number of dead and wilting flowers, overflowing off the vacant chairs and window sills, made up for it. Dick found a place for his own small bouquet and turned to lock the door behind him. He double-checked the nurse schedule before coming up, but Jom Gordon was an important man. Dick didn't doubt the extra efforts Bruce had probably gone to to make sure there was security and specialty care provided, on top of the world-class doctors, screenings, and tests that were flown in every other month or so. Jim Gordon was a well-liked man, and that was dangerous for Dick's desire to go unseen.

Barbra had already been by at 1, so Dick knew he was most likely in the clear. He stood awkwardly and watched Commissioner Gordon’s sleeping face. He was in a medically induced coma but looked fine, other than the multiple iv lines and the breathing tubes running from his nose. He was older than Dick remembered, but expressing that out loud made him feel stupid. The man’s dark copper hair was streaked with grey, but not as badly as Bruce’s. He still wore his signature mustache, but he had obvious growth along his cheeks and jaw. Dick wondered if Barbara shaved him or if Bruce had hired someone specifically for that. He couldn't help but notice how much longer and lighter his hair seemed. Without his usual slicking gel, his hair held a slight fluffiness to it. Dick stared harder, wondering if he had never noticed as a kid or if Jim Gordon wore gel at every point in his life. He’d slept over at Barbara’s enough growing up to have seen the man in his pajamas. The commissioner may not have been the best single dad, but he tried, and a child of Bruce Wayne, and the Bat, could acknowledge that’s all most could ask for.

Dick had noticed a while ago that Commissioner Gordon wasn't making public appearances. He hoped the man had retired, but that wasn't the case. Slade filled him in when he demanded to know what happened. Very few had targeted the commissioner because of his high-ranking achievements and connections to the Batman. And fewer have succeeded in getting closer. Dick knew it was no coincidence. The public had been briefed and told it was cancer, a long, hard battle, and eventually, the press relaxed their demands to know more. Dick had been doing some digging and was glad that he had the time alone now to react how he wanted and proceed how he desired. What Slade had told him, what he found out, did not sit well with him.

In an attempt to dismantle the Dark Knight’s resources in an underhanded way, Luthor had suggested testing the very first chip produced on Jim Gordon. It had been years ago, but the utterly horrendous way his immune system and nervous system had responded to the foreign influence had nearly shut his body down. It gave the Light’s medical resources and team plenty of information on how to alter and edit their work, but it had nearly left Barbara’s dad brain-dead. The commissioner had no dormant or recessive genes for enhancement or meta potential. Slade guessed that since aliens and enhanced people had been breeding with the public for years, it would've awoken something less dominant in the Commissioner’s RNA or DNA. But his entirely human gene sequence had no way of combating the chip in any capacity. Dick had been insistent to learn more, to find out more, but their latest plans to move against the Light had squandered any chance Dick had to seek further information from the shadows or Luthor.

His next best option had taken him here, at 3 AM. He made his way over to the medical supply cabinet against the far wall and was quick to pick it. The cabinets were only meant to keep children and kleptomanics out of the backup stash of pads, surgical masks, and sterilized needles. Dick was quick to spot what he was looking for and unhooked an empty saline bag from the top shelf. He looked around for a seat before realizing the flowers took up everything. He gave an apologetic look to the flowers that looked the most wilted before moving them to the floor. He dragged over the newly freed chair and threw himself down with an aggravated sigh. He checked the door once more before he brought down the needle-tipped end to his right inner arm and found whatever vein seemed to bulge the most. He cringed internally, glad Eerie wasn't present to witness his horrendous field medic skills. He knew he probably would've ruptured a vein if he healed at a slower rate.

The needle slid in with minimal force, and Dick eyed a fresh line of red. The thin red river forced its way through the clear iv tube line. He laid the empty bag across his thigh and watched as it slowly started to fill, drop by drop. Dick sat back in silence until the bag filled and looked around, taking note of casual things around the room: which flowers looked newer, if the vases held any similarities in them, how often the ceiling fan ruffled the Commissioner’s hair. When the bag reached halfway, Dick disconnected the needle from himself and pressed a spare wad of cotton to his inner elbow. With his free hand, he stood and approached the bedside. He hooked the bag of blood on the second hook that housed the saline drip bag. It was easy enough to insert the needle into a dual rubber tube that fed into the needle taped against Commissioner Gordon’s inner elbow. Dick wasn't certain, but his experience with Slade’s blood gave him reason to think that his level of potent regenerative white blood cells would be enough to kick-start the Commissioner’s immune system. Slade had been able to create short-term temporary healing shots from his blood and spit, so Dick assumed his own genetics would have a similar consequence.

Dick didn't think he could craft miracles and heal the man, but he knew that the man’s system needed help, just a little push past what modern health could offer on the most expensive HMO and PPO plans. Dick didn't stay much longer. He did his best to fluff the pillow and check the air filter in the room. He moved the flowers back in place, actions that would've brought a silent smile to Bab’s face. Outside, Gotham’s streets were silent and dead, the front of the private hospital was demure and somewhat calm, aside from the occasional siren or homeless individual loitering around. For a few chilly moments, Dick stood outside in the cold, dead of night air, wondering if he should pop in on anyone else before he headed back to Slade and his team.

With half a mind to just get a hotel room and figure it out later, Dick checked his phone. He froze and did a double-take. He took a closer look at some of his missed alerts. Wintergreen and Slade were both unaware of the extent to which Dick had been issuing orders to their digital assault team lately. He assumed they blamed his interaction with the head of cyber security on keeping tabs on his brothers. The moment Dick physically abandoned his brothers, he’d taken action to track their movements and monitor their well-being from afar, mainly through Slade’s team of remote hackers and on-hand developers. He received regular reports about his brother’s cape and civilian life, Bruce and Alfred’s movements. Even his old team's, although to a significantly lesser degree.

He used to have the Court of Owls Board members as his reportedly top priority, but as he successfully hunted them down 1 by 1, he released Slade's soldiers of their stringent orders, and allowed them to focus on his friends and family in passive update formatted routines-save for 1 name. William Cobb. Dick stared down at his phone screen, wondering if the time zone jumps from country to country in the last week were starting to take it’s toll. A low buzzing filled his ears.

 

Recent Match:

 

IP Confirmation Zjddosp3937777%(sj. Last sighted Nice, France. 0800 PM

 

Dick scrolled down to see the traffic stop light cameras that had shuttered quick captures of the man’s profile as he strolled past a cafe. His white-clad shoulders blended well with the tan off-white walls of the buildings in his background. Despite the cold and jitters that Tim, and Barbara’s dad, had brought on, Dick felt a cloying, heavy sense of calm settle over him. It chased away the shivers from the 4 AM wind and seemed to shove everything else far, far behind the growing buzz, leaving only 1 person in mind. One objective. One desire. One strong sense of motivation. There was no debating that Cobb didn't deserve life or freedom. He didn't deserve that leisurely stroll down a French sidewalk. It wasn't a fact that was validated by Dick’s hatred and spite. It had become a fact that Dick couldn't refute, refused to allow any semblance of subjection.

He gripped his phone tighter and knew he would be missing Slade’s return deadline tomorrow.

Chapter 52

Notes:

:)(

Deathstroke’s unmasked face lit up the largest monitor in the cave. His stark white hair and contrastingly dark eyepatch created bright shadows over the silent cave. The man was oozing haughtiness, “Come now, Wayne. Is the mask necessary?”

Bruce frowned from behind his cowl, “What do you want, Deathstroke?”

Slade was mildly amused, “Playing coy, are we? That's new”

Bruce frowned, but resisted the tension that wanted to show, “I won't humor your sick games, Wilson,” he made to move towards the keyboard and cut the connection.

“Where is he?”

The Dark Knight looked back at the monitors, “What?”

It was a demand for an update, information, last known location, everything and anything, because there was no doubt in who Deathstroke the Terminator and The Batman had in common.

Slade was no longer amused, “Where is he, Wayne? Locked up and dosed again? Or have you managed to hinder him with just the threat of his brothers?” The man’s broad frame shifted as he crossed his arms, “I don’t think he’d fancy being locked in his childhood bedroom like a brat”

Bruce froze, certain that Deathstroke wasn't manipulating him, but uncertain as to how to proceed, “Dick is not here” As much as it was true that Bruce was all too willing to contain his oldest to his bedroom or use the meta holdings cell in the cave, he still detested the easy notion that he would take his child prisoner. The men shared a long, solid look, conveying threats, promises, reassurances, “He’s not,” Slade questioned without the lilt that most inquires held. The man was near incapable of asking for anything-even if it was just information.

“He's not,” Bruce confirmed sternly. Inside he was panicking, “Was he in Gotham or Blud last?” he’d already split the screens in front of him as his fingers flew across the keys.

“The kid was on a vacation of sorts, but his last check-in was from the street across from Gotham General”

Bruce assumed the mercenary hadn't sent Dick after the Commissioner, but the Bat demanded all bases be covered, “He went to see Commissioner Gordon”

“Apparently”, the man replied smoothly. Bruce stared, silently demanding more. “The Commissioner doesn't have cancer. The kid has been researching a few theories he wanted to try to speed up his recuperation”

“Electrum or the chips?” Batman was pushing through and demanding the spotlight as Bruce struggled with the sudden influx of information.

Dick had been within a few zip codes of him.

He’d gone to see Barbara’s dad. He’d been trying to heal him.

He’s missing.

Deathstroke lost his son.

“The chips,” the man replied casually, “One of the first field tests revealed that most patients required some degree of mutant or meta gene to handle the chip’s neural assault”

Bruce had a plethora of demands. Was Commissioner Gordon already gone, and Bruce’s expensive treatments just a way to prolong the inevitable? What had Dick done to help him heal? What was his real prognosis? Did Barbara know Dick had been by to see her father? How would his pseudo-daughter react to learning her father hadn't been suffering from cancer for years, but rather a malicious attack from terrorists looking to test neural-based weapons? It was no wonder that normal homosapeians couldn't handle the chips when it was originally designed to demolish the existing code and firewalls of supercomputers and missiles.

“When was that? Where is his location now?”

“Approximately 45 hours ago. I've already had my men confirm that every traffic cam within a 4 block radius either glitched or was hacked to maintain a false feed for an hour or two”

Bruce hesitated for just a second. Commissioner Gordon would have to wait. He’d send Barbara and one other to monitor and guard him in the hospital, but his priority was clear: Dick was missing and almost everything pointed to him being taken.

“Send me everything you have”

____________________________________________________________________________________

“Todd is still refusing to answer his many lines,” Damian announced. Slade’s eye crinkled slightly, “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut your mouth, mercenary,” Damian spat.

“Robin,” Batman barked. He was hunched over the keyboard in a split system so he and Red Robin could both type away. Slade had sent over a file of what data pings he had on Dick’s last known location, but it was proving to be increasingly unhelpful in terms of what information he was eager to volunteer. The Batcave was tense and tight as the Dark Knight and his Robins worked to pull teeth, in the form of information, from the paid killer. The only thing that they had confirmed to be certain was that Dick had been due back after traipsing around the world for a month or so, when he suddenly disappeared. As much as Tim would've liked to keep his interaction with Dick close to his chest, the circumstances called for him to acknowledge that Dick had stopped by and casually stalked him and Connor through the park just the other night.

Bruce had offered little more than narrowed eyes and a huff of breath before he added it to their growing catalog of movements and activities. Slade had appeared equally displeased to learn that Dick had spent the last week on the east coast, but wasn't very shocked to learn who he’d stopped by to see. Tim made a rough sound of exaggeration and pulled at his hair, “This doesn't make sense!” he stressed under his breath. Damian sauntered up beside him, “What doesn't?”

Tim threw his hand at the monitor with a nasty expression, “Dick’s location ping! I locked onto it through some second-hand satellite access paths to see if it’s working-”

“And it’s not?” Damian questioned.

Tim shook his head, “No, it’s turning on and off”

Damian looked at the monitors, understanding little of what Tim had pulled up, “It’s a tracker that was pulled from his skin. How can it turn on and off?”

Tim nodded, “Exactly-it can’t!”

Bruce and Slade simultaneously looked toward the boys, “That's because it isn't” Slade confirmed. Tim frowned, but Bruce explained further, “Satellite-based coordinates can't turn on or off, it's either broken or isn't. A GPS is a steady location report, not a lightswitch”

“So what? The connection keeps getting interrupted? How?”

Tim’s eyes flew wide the moment he stopped speaking, having answered his own question, “Depth...Water!”

Damian looked more worried than affirmed, “Richard is not in the bay though, is he?”

Bruce knew his son was thinking back to Dick’s death when they were teenagers. The sight of his son’s body falling into the Gotham harbor was beyond devastating. 

“No”, he replied quickly.

“Richard most likely tore my only means of control from his shoulder and abandoned it in the sewer. The connection will clear up when the GPS unit empties out into the bay or canal” Slade surmized.

“Richard was attacked”, Damian spat the the killer, “He would never abandon us. You, maybe, but never us”

Slade smiled in a way that was both cat and wolf-like, “I look forward to the day you can no longer shield that soft, inflated ego behind Daddy and your brothers”

“Wilson,” Bruce threatened.

Slade looked to Bruce, understanding that it was both a demand to stop agitating his sons and a demand for information, “Richard is too well trained. He wouldn't allow anyone to tail him so easily as to not leave a trace. The amount of manpower and tactical maneuvering needed to subdue him would not go unnoticed, especially if he were within a 12-block radius of Gotham’s most prestigious hospital. There were no police reports-not even a disgruntled nosie complaint”

Bruce narrowed his eyes but agreed, “What aren't you telling me, Wilson? Why is Dick MIA, and why are you convinced he did this himself?”

Slade was coy, “I would caution you against assuming too much too soon, Wayne. I have little knowledge of what Richard is planning. If this were a mission I’d sanctioned, he would have brought his private combat team with him”

Bruce frowned, all too ready to cut the connection, but not if it cost them Dick. Before he could reply, Damian’s sharp voice rang out behind them, “Todd! How dare you ignore this many of my calls on every one of your cell lines-”

“Shut it, Demon Brat. I'm on a trail”

Tim furrowed his brow and yanked Damian's hand out straight and pressed the speaker button, “Jason, what are you talking about?”

“I found Cobb!”

The cave fell utterly still as Jason’s end emitted a few sounds of shuffling and rustling clothing, “I found the fucker, and I'm going after him. If the old man finds out, tell him I won't kill that twisted psycho. But we otta' end this fucked up cat and mouse shit goin’ on”

“Jaso-”

Bruce stepped forward, “Jason, where are you? Where is he? Don't move”

The orders came in a rushed bark of orders, and Jason made a disgruntled sound of surprise, “The fuck?”

Damian snatched back his wrist and held the phone closer, “Todd! This is Damian-”

“Yea, no shi-”

“Richard is missing, and Cobb’s reappearance means that he has either been taken or has foolishly cut connection from us and Deathstroke to pursue him alone”

Jason was quiet for a moment, “Fuck” he breathed on the other line, “Wait, how do you know Wilson doesn't know where he is?”

“Jason,” Tim spoke up, “Slade literally called and accused us of kidnapping Dick. He was in Gotham and Blud and was due back like 2 days ago, but he went AWOL and now we think his tracker is in the sewers”

“Tracker?” Jason rebuked, “What is he, a dog?”

“Wilson was tracking him, now he’s not. Keep up Todd”

Jason made an offended slputtering sound, but Tim scowled at Damian and snatched the phone from him, “Listen, Jason, we all know you have beef with Bruce. This isn't an intervention to force you back on your word, but we gotta do something. At the very least, we need to figure out where Dick is and if he’s in trouble”

“Yea, yea, whatever. I'm not a piece of shi,t” Jason snapped, “So what's the update? How behind him are you? If you’re just realizing Cobb made an appearance-”

“We’re catching up and planning as we go,” Tim replied quickly, “Where are you?”

“Jason, stand down,” Bruce demanded, “Do not go to France”

“Fuck you!” Jason spat, “Cobb’s there and it's obvious where Dick is going and he's already got a day’s headstart-”

“We are going, but we cannot rush in without a plan or proper backup”

“Then bring back up! We need to go to France and find Cobb-have the fucking pervert bring his own men. We need to end this lowlife”

“I-ok, yeah, but-” Tim sighed as he caught Bruce’s increasingly clenched jaw and expression. The man was only holding back because of the way Deathstroke was staring down their family feud with amusement and interest, “Look, we’ll leave today-we will, but you need to come meet us so we aren't going all in sporadically and discombobulated. This could be another trap and-”

Fuck no, I'm not-”

“Todd!” Damian snapped, “Delay your ego until Richard is safe!”

Jason was silent for an extended moment.

“Jason?”

“Jaso-”

“I'm here,” he snapped in a way that was far too reminiscent of Bruce when he lost his temper in public. 

“Jason,” Bruce started in a tone that brooked politeness and asked for Jason’s patience. It was a tight tone his children had heard over the years when Bruce was struggling to reel in his own waifer thin patience, “Come to the cave so we can regroup. I'm working with Tim to confirm Cobb’s exact location and his movements in France. Wilson will provide his own back up and support” they all sent the man a sharp, expectant look, “And we’ll zeta over as soon as we can. Damian will work to notify the League as a reliable back up so we can move as soon as possible, but they will know where we are in case this turns into a trap” like before, went unsaid.

Damian nodded to Bruice, accepting the responsibility. Jason didn't reply, “Jason?”

“Fine,” he snipped eventually. The line went dead and Tim looked to Bruce, feeling the tired exasperation the man’s body language exuded. 

Another external call drew everyone's attention. It was another Leaguer. Tim frowned, worried that someone had leaked and the League members who weren't understanding of Nightwing were intervening. Batman answered the call immediately, muting Deathstroke's screen.

The Flash, in costume, appeared on the monitor. His white lenses were wide with news, "B man! My laerts just went crazy! Guess who's in Europe? Where are the boys-"

"I know," Batman replied gruffly. He ended the call with little reverb, only to turn and find Damian and Tim staring him down disapprovingly.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Slade stepped away from the monitors as he and the Bat separated to separately prepare.

“Sir,” Falcon greeted from where she was stationed by the door. Slade had noticed her behavior change slightly every time her commanding officer was absent. Dick had most likely ordered her to step in and act as support in place of the Colonel’s, at times, missing heir. Eerie was a good replacement for Falcon, leaving the young and wily Wildcat to be supervised, no matter the team lead.

He spared her a passing glance, “Get me my current head of software and support”

“Sir,” she dipped her head and departed swiftly. Slade was glad that Dick had the common sense to choose his team based on camaraderie, but also capability. From what he’d seen, Falcon was able to connect emotionally, when needed, and take charge when necessary. He already had plans to offer her a longer-term contract and keep her in the weeds of his own contracting agency. When she grew old and tired from field work, he would entice her with positions of teaching and oversight. Soldiers like Eerie and Wildcat were good only because their prime years excelled their skills. Once Wildcat hit his 40s he’d slow, and by his 50s, he’d be more of a liability than an advantage. Eerie’s agency as a sharpshooter and long-distance combatant would offer him more years of usefulness in the field-maybe into his 60s, but his mind and intellect were not the reasons he’d been cultivated. 

He made his way down to his main office and began preparing orders for who and how many men he’d have moved to France as a precautionary backup. He’d already sent word to Wintergreen to have some men prepare and double-check his equipment. His preferred tools were always kept on hand and at the ready: uniform, standard firearms, blades, medical field equipment, etc…

He should have predicted this outcome. Slade had been more than forthcoming in his reasons for being so addictingly captivated by Richard Grayson-one of which was his natural headstrong determinism. When the kid set his mind to something, there was little that could be done about it. Slade had come to the realization that beating the individuality from his student, would douse the fire he’d coveted in the boy’s skills. It was his punishment for choosing to set his eyes on a person so righteous and favored by others, Slade had decided. If he were to be successful in claiming his bird of prey, he would not be successful in being the sole determinor-would not be allowed to take charge as easily as he had for most of his life.

Retrospectively, Slade acknowledged that it was fruitless to admonish himself for the poor oversight and accountability that had allowed Richard private access to Slade’s technological resources and the confidence to tear out his GPS and set out after his personal demon. Still, he couldn't help but allow those darker, less important thoughts to slither in and whisper about all the ways the boy would be monitored after this debacle. About all the ways the kid would be punished and protected.

And despite it all, Slade despised the smallest part of his character that prided itself in building up the boy he was now chasing down. The Richard he’s stolen from the Batcave years ago was too fearful of himself and too ashamed of his family’s judgment to have made such a big leap-let alone the fact that his skills were not on par with someone of Cobb's calibre. Now though, Slade toyed with the idea of sabotaging their plans and allowing Dick his chance at revenge. Even now, he could imagine the mouth watering the way the kid’s muscles would curve and bulge as he struck down his tormentor. The way he would stand tall and defiant against verbiage that had been carved into his skull. The small tick in his cheek would appear when he clenched his jaw, and his neck and throat would be coated in those delicious, intimidating black veins. If it came down to it, Slade already had preparations to separate his student and Wayne. He had no intention of assisting Wayne in hobbling his student from his long-sought justice. The deal with Wayne was only to ensure he had adequate backup in case Richard was indeed not ready to face his grandfather. 

Before he could finish packing, a knock interrupted him. He grunted his approval for entry, and the door slid open to reveal Falcon, Wildcat, and Eerie at the head of a small party of men. A thin east asian man headed the group at his right, consisting of men that held seriousness in their features. The lack of muscles in their shoulders and stance told Slade that the men had rarely seen field work. His private business and ventures still required men like this: men who excelled in the technical world of warfare. Firewalls, software, hacking viruses, and the sort were all essential for Slade’s abundance of documentation and digitized client forms. 

“Sir, Director Xiau,” Falcon stepped aside. Her teammates followed her, and Slade resisted the urge to dismiss them from irritation. There was no need for them to be present, but he would take the opportunity to remind them of the fortunate life they led under Dick instead of him.

The man stepped forward and dipped his head, “Sir.”

“I must commend your abilities in maintaining and solidifying my mainframe, Xiau” Slade faced the man and dropped his shoulders. He placed his hands behind his back, “Very few men of my standing are offered the liberty of technological assurance and comfort in their own systems, especially ones that hold such privateized and classified information as ours”

Xiau’s features faltered before a polite grin speared his lips. He ducked his head momentarily, “Thank you, Sir. It’s my pleasure to ensure external forces stay external”

Slade nodded and casually retrieved his favored pistol from his thigh holster, “Yes, your skills and consistency have been fortunate for me for the last 2 decades or so, especially since Renegade joined our ranks. You’ve been a remarkable source of information for him”

Slade’s snap of the pull-back barrel jerked everyone’s attention to the weapon. Xiau’s eyes widened, and the pleased look vanished, “Please, Sir. I never meant any harm in-”

His head snapped back before his legs twisted and crumbled beneath him. Xiau collapsed in a mess of limbs and small red spurts. No one spoke, unsure if they would be next for staring at the Colonel for too long; or the body. Slade stepped over the body and towards the department assistants who were trying to maintain steady breaths, “The next time my student requests information to be filtered directly to him from the systems I finance you to maintain, I suggest you remember that he is my soldier before he is your commanding officer”

The group of men were nodding before the Colonel finished speaking. Slade turned to Dick’s private team, “Renegade has been requesting privately sourced information from our Cyberwall and protocol department here. He received word from them that William Cobb was seen resurfacing in Paris and promptly extracted his locator tag and, I presume, went after Cobb. I was not notified of this until I received an alert of the GPS pings from his tag being disrupted. The Bat and his children made the connection and notified me that they do not have him. While this is an abhorrent representation of the capabilities of men under my command, this current mission takes precedence”

“Sir,” Falon acknowledged. Slade nodded, pleased to see utter seriousness marring the team of 3, “Time to find a wayward bird. This is a retrieval and extraction mission. No limits”

____________________________________________________________________________________

She stared at the new boy venomously. He looked like them-like the people keeping her captive and tired. A curious part of her wondered what had landed him in a cell beside her, if he was one of them. He’d been dragged in by soldiers and dumped in a nearby corner of the cell to her right. It had been a few days now, and he still showed no signs of waking, aside from occasional tossing and heavy breathing in his sleep. Some soldiers with medical armbands across their biceps visited at least once a day to take his vitals and administer fluids. She didn't ask why, though. She’d given up asking why long ago. The only silver lining that seemed to fill her days was her recent boredom. The tall, lanky, nasty witch that visited her every day, with the tall African woman, seemed to have disappeared. The intimidating woman had visited once, only to glare mutinously at her the entire time.

She’d been with another woman, a lady with dark hair and green eyes that resembled the soldiers who guarded her cell, and the boy who was now keeping her company. They’d spoken lowly about how a recent development and some unexpected deaths had caused them to be set back.

 

“This is not as detrimental as you’re believing it to be,” The muscular, dark-haired lady inclined.

The tall, lace-draped woman sneered, “That is easy to say when your own pet project has already been accomplished”

The other woman narrowed her eyes at her behind the cell door, “Barely. It is being field tested for a trial run. I expect promising results, but this is only just the beginning. My father is already insisting we try again and infuse the subject with some of the pit”

The tall African lady scoffed, “The doctor has already ascertained that it will not work. Active meta genes are needed if the body is to survive. Besides, we’ve all seen the second Robin. Throwing a live body into the pit for enhancement, rather than resuscitation, is detrimental to the mind. I've supplied you with enough of Klarion's magic as it is”

The first lady scoffed, “I doubt anyone could prove to be more of a psychotic heretic than your little rat; well, ex rat” The woman’s voice turned soft but held a strange lilt, like she still meant the apology in a nasty way.

“Klarion’s loss is significant because of how much power he’s tapped from the girl-nothing more. It will set me back, but in the end, I am hardly affected by his demise”

The dark-haired woman crossed her arms, “Is the child herself not suitable? She is young enough to be molded, no?”

The other woman was silent, but her expression conveyed she wasn't actually considering the woman’s offer, “Iit is not that simple” she put it delicately, “Klarion had the skills to manipulate and build. His skills to expand and warp reality are what made him powerful and unstable, but” she said sharply, “He lacked abundance. He was not born with a well of mana or magic like the girl. They are nearly each other’s antonym in that regard”

“Oh?” The dark-haired woman seemed genuinely curious, but her creased brow was trying to make it subtle.

The other woman nodded and tapped her claw-like nails along her forearm, “Indeed. The child was born into creation from a cult that her mother lost her soul to. She was crafted from the depths of hell with utter devotion-the sole purpose of her experience was to be power. To generate and exude mana in the hopes that her father could utilize her to return from the underworld. A sort of doorway, if you will” She sent another scathing glare at her behind the cell door, “But she is ill-suited for Klarion’s skilled utilization. She is a battery-a generator-not the supercomputer hooked up to it”

“I understand the sentiment,” the other woman replied dryly, “But can she not be trained? Cultivated to serve?”

“I care little for ‘what if’s Talia. I deal in certainties”

Talia laughed, but it was not a nice warm sound, “You deal in magic, and I know enough to know that other worldly powers and practices are the epitome of uncertainty”

 

No one had been by since, other than the new boy who had yet to wake up. She scooted closer to the bars separating them. His cheek was smushed into the dusty stone floor and was partially turned away, but she could see enough to know he was of this world. His strong jaw and able shoulders were enough to tell anyone he wasn’t some soft-bellied civilian dragged into a mess of things. He was clothed in a dark wrap-top and soft linen pants. His feet and calloused fingers were bare, but she couldn't tell much more than the fact that they were probably the same age. His hair was dark and cut short, but the soldiers were silent and well-trained, refusing to answer her questions or demands on the newcomer.

At this point, she was glad for the boredom. Anything was a reprieve now that her days were absent from the tall skinny witch. Now that she wasn't being drained at every visit, she was able to stay awake longer, eat more, and plan. Her goal was to escape and then find somewhere safe to lay low, but she knew she needed a realistic first step. Maybe gaining the trust of her captors, maybe the servant staff or soldiers. But no one was willing or able to speak to her, so she waited and bided her time, until the new boy, that is. She stared at him from the corner of her eye. As soon as he awoke, she’d demand answers or a partnership. They were both prisoners, he would have to agree. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

“This is not a good idea, Bruce,” Superman warned. Batman touched his comm to respond, “Nightwing is at risk and Cobb’s capture takes priority, especially after what he’s done”

Red Hood scoffed beside him, unimpressed with his words. Superman wasn't sold either, “This could be a trap at the very least, but keep in mind how at risk you and the boys were every time you’ve faced off. Batman, you were all held captive, he tortured Dick, he’s-”

“I remember exactly what he has done to whom, Superman” Batman cut off the caped crusader. The boy in blue sighed over their comms line, “This is too dangerous, Bruce. I know that you feel this is a time-sensitive operation because Dick ran after Cobb first, but you need more support and back up than the boys and Deathstroke. At the very least he’s unreliable, but we all know double crossing is second nature to men like him”

“I'm aware”, Batman replied dryly.

“Then why are you fighting me on this?” Superman demanded. His tone was filled with equal parts patience and frustration. 

“I need to get to him first”, Batman said after a moment, “The League has voted my son onto the Blacklist. If they capture him on foreign soil and in the act of committing a felony of some sort, his future is-” Batman sighed, “Dick will fare much better if we get to him first…even if it's just a few days head-start”

“Bruce, you have to trust me. You know I won- we, won’t just throw Dick to the wolves. You have to trust that we would work with you-"

“I know,” Batman replied snappishly. Superman was already trying his patience by interjecting himself into the situation, but to be reminded that they had to maximize control and minimzie the pubic’s awareness of their situation was a grating idea, “What you aren't acknowledging is that those wolves are the other half of the Justice League-peeople that you are obligated to cooperate with as a founding member o the League”

“You are too Bruce!” The man cried out in frustration.

“Do not imply I am obligated to work with anyone who would harm my sons” Bruce’s voice was calm and clipped.

Superman sighed heavily on the other end, “Let us help, Bruce. God forbid this ends in another kidnapping or torture. Trust us to help. Even the Young Justice team-those kids will be furious when they find out they weren't notified of this-even worse so if something does happen”

The Dark Knight knew Clark was correct. There were more than enough league members to stay behind and watch things while a separate team from the League and YJ split off to come aid him and his sons. “Fine,” he snapped, “But do not be foolish. Send only just enough to still leave the League and our operational bases secure, and-”

“Don't let everyone know about it. Don't leave anywhere too understaffed,” Clark’s tone had taken on a jokingly haughty tone, “Please, Bruce, it’s not my first day on the job. I’ll have Alfred send me your coordinates and we will zeta to you. Just hold off a littl-”

Bruce was quick to end the call but made sure his location ping was still open to the others. He trusted Barry, Dinah, Diana, and everyone else who watched Dick grow up to keep his plans and location from the other Leaguers until absolutely necessary. It was the shadow of the Bat that whispered all the horrible ways his trust and contingencies could lead him astray.

He, his sons, Deathstroke, Dick’s team of 3, and an additional squadron were positioned on the rooftop of an abandoned seafood factory processing plant. They had tracked Cobb’s occasional public appearances to Nice, France. The man was last sighted entering the business district they were in, but hadn't yet come out of the largest building directly across from them. The positive notes were that the age and decrepit state of the business park they were in, along the coast, meant that there were virtually no CTV or security cameras to draw attention or record anything for the League to use against Batman or Nightwing. The negative side of that same coin meant that it was much harder to hack into any video or audio to determine what Cobb was doing and if Dick was close by.

“Are we moving in now?” Robin noticed that Batman was no longer speaking to Superman.

“We’re gonna wait for our own people,” Jason answered for Bruce. Bruce offered his second-oldest a slight frown for using his enhanced hearing. Tim ignored them and continued peering at their target building with a small set of scope lenses. Batman nodded to Robin and ignored Deathstroke and his team at their backs, “Superman is working to put together a team of League and YJ-approved members to attend and assist. Until then, we will monitor and observe”

Robin frowned but nodded. Slade stepped forward, mid-tightening of his right armored cuff, “Waiting for the cavalry, are we? I hope the boy in blue doesn't think with his heart and send Sportsmaster’s girl or Harper”

Batman’s jaw clenched, but before he could respond, Red Robin called out, “Guys,” the exact level of urgent whisper earned everyone’s attention. Tim was still hunched over his one propped-up knee, but didn't drop his scope, “Guys-”

“What?” Red Hood snapped. He and Batman stepped forward and looked out over the rooftop to try and spot what had Tim panicking, “What? Is it Cobb?” He tried snatching the lenses from Red Robin.

Beside them, Deathstroke pulled out a singular scope from the top of am AK precision rifle. He brought it to his eye and started to chuckle, “He found our wayward bird”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Black and Blue and Red All Over