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Gotham is no stranger to the violence that hides in her shadows.
One could spend their lives concealed away in the darkness; away from the light. It's what Batman does. Shadows comfort when the light is too much to handle.
Or how it should be. It’s how it was.
Dick was never one to shy away from the light as he had grown up in it. The spotlight from the circus; both the media from being Bruce Wayne's ward and Batman's sidekick; and then on display for-
Renegade catches subtle movement in a shadow as something inside slinks as though it, the shadow itself is alive. Renegade watches as it tracks his moments; the cock of his gun.
His master is close, watching from afar. Should he need support, it will be given. His master doesn't ask for much. Only for Renegade’s complete devotion, which he need not ask for.
The bustling streets below remind Dick of what his life was before. Before... He would leap from roof to roof, soaring through the sky, laughing like he was king of the world.
Renegade chases the thought away. Childish behaviour. Something he's been long since trained out of.
The shadow changes form, shifting from something unassuming and chameleon-like to a bat shaped human hybrid. Dick flinches.
He recognises the figure.
The shadow looms over him, capturing him in a silhouette of darkness.
One that would have brought Dick solace and hope if he were still a child. He hasn't been a child for a little over two years now, not since the day he was first taken.
His innocence stolen away by a monster who had one eye and no face.
Even now, when he sees his master Slade wearing that mask all he can think of are hands on his body. Dick's not used to it, but it doesn't hurt as much anymore.
Renegade keeps one eye trained on Batman and the other watching through the scope of his rifle.
He waits.
They both do.
Renegade waits for the signal, either to take his shot or to engage with Batman. He doesn't care which. No matter what, he won't fail.
Light floods into the apartment complex across from him as his mark walks through the front door. His finger hovers over the trigger, fist tightening as he takes a deep breath.
Dick's heartbeat races as Renegade zeroes in on his target, foregoing the usual steps when outside forces interfere. Batman makes no move, why?
The Batman Dick knows would never stand idly by while a contractor goes after their target. But Renegade doesn't have the same concerns. If anything, the shadow’s lack of interference makes his job easier.
The cool wind dies down and everything seems to still as his finger-
"Robin."
Dick jolts. Renegade pauses with his finger gently pressing down on the trigger with not enough pressure to fire. He swallows and pulls away from the scope, shifting his focus.
"I'm not Robin. Not anymore." He declares with determination, hard and convincing.
The shadow Batman doesn't comment, only steps closer, prompting him to abandon his rifle, jump up to his feet, and take a fighting stance.
Renegade stays near the gun, one eye still conscious of his will-be victim. It's not like the man is innocent. His master showed him the files and let him do his own research. Dick knows this man doesn't deserve to live.
But what gives him the right to take a life?
"What happened, Dick? Who did this to you?"
He scoffs, rolling his eyes behind his mask. "Like you don't know!"
"I don't." Is Batman's curt response. Just how Dick remembers.
"Of course not." Renegade spits. "It would be an inconvenience, wouldn't it? Better to be ignorant than know the painful truth."
"It wouldn't."
"You really want to know?" Dick questions, tilting his head as his hand lowers.
Dick wishes he would push, that he would shout, that he would do anything- anything to save Dick from the monster who has him.
But he knows Bruce.
And Bruce doesn't care for criminals. He is justice incarnate. Batman saves innocents, and Dick has long lost his innocence.
The shadow doesn't say anything else but Renegade can tell it wants to know more than it should. Curiosity killed the cat and if he says anything more it ruin the memory of Richard Grayson. Would it ruin the memory of Robin too?
Not the current Robin, the boy with a freckled face and bright smile, but the Robin who died at Slade’s hands or was it all those years ago at Haly's circus?
Crack.
Fall.
Splat.
Death.
"Batman," Slade's voice snaps Dick out of whatever trance had a hold of him. Gone is the pain. He reminds himself to focus. "Have you business with my apprentice? He's currently occupied on a job so I'm afraid he can't entertain you today."
"He's not your apprentice, Wilson."
"Is he not?" Slade questions with no real interest whatsoever. Dick can tell he's only trying to get under Batman's thick skin. "Then what is he?"
"My son." Batman states.
For a split second Dick has hope again. Hope that maybe this won't end the way Slade wants it to, the way he knows it will. And that maybe Dick can be human again and not this- this monster that Slade has created of him.
But when Slade laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard, Dick feels it deep in his bones. He will never be free of Slade.
"Your son?" Slade questions with bemusement. "Do you want to know what your son has been doing these past few years by my side?"
Dick hopes Bataman won't ask. Renegade wants to puff out his chest and take pride in his master's confidence in him.
The whites of the cowl turn to slits but before he can make a move Slade's hand wraps around Dick's waist and pulls him into his side.
Dick cringes, shying away from the touch while Renegade melts against his master's side. He feels smug as he watches the shadow's face contort with horror.
"Why?" Batman growls.
"Because I can."
Their attention is stolen by a little bundle of red, yellow, and green dropping down on the rooftop. Dick recognises those colours as his own.
No, they're not his.
They haven't been his for a lifetime.
Renegade wears orange and black. Clean. Smart. Professional. A replica.
Slade's handgun is out and trained on the little bird the moment his feet touch the ground. The bird, Dick, and Batman tense.
Slade is casual when he directs Renegade, "shoot him."
Renegade pulls out of his master's side and takes up his gun. He looks down the scope of his riffle; down at the man drinking a late night cup of tea before bed, and aims.
He waits.
He breathes in.
And on his exhale, releases.
He draws back his hand in shock as pain blooms and blood trickles down his arm. Glass shatters and the body falls.
"What have you done?!" Batman roars.
Dick jumps at the sound of a gunshot. His ears ring, not from the shot but from the shock. Batman is on the ground and the bird flustering at his side.
Dick wishes he had the strength to run over to them; to leave Slade behind, but he doesn't and he can't. Slade has everyone he loves hostage. With one push of a button and bam-
They're dead.
The little Robin looks up at him with a nasty glare that has Dick flinching away with guilt. "Why did you do this? You're supposed to be Robin! Not some loser's lackey. Robin is magic and you just- you just..."
The small bird turns his head away from Dick and back to the shadow who has found his footing and is back on his feet. He stares down at them before looking back over to the cracked glass window and the blood pooling in the apartment.
Renegade was sloppy and unprepared, but despite that, he completed his hit and made his master proud. There’s nothing left here for him. Slade is exuding smugness; glee from besting the shadow.
"Do you see it now?" Slade asks with a gentle hum. "He's no longer your son or your Robin. He's my apprentice. My killer. My instrument of death. An extension of me."
"Dick..."
Slade pointedly ignores the shadow as he takes Dick wounded hand, peeling off his gloves to carefully inspect the budding wound. It's not too deep, he thinks. Dick is glad, his tendons and nerves are undamaged.
Dick can fly again.
Renegade can shoot again.
"I'm fine," he says. To who? He's not sure. Dick thinks he wants to reassure Batman, but Renegade only wants to prove his use to Slade. "I'll be fine."
Slade drops his hand and turns back to face the shadow and the little bird hiding within it. "Your son is dead. I killed him. Tonight was just my way of making sure you know that and won’t forget it.”
The shadow lets them go. Bruce lets him go.
Dick doesn't remember how they got back to their safe house but when Slade's hands are wandering over his skin as his suit is being peeled off his body he's brought back to the present.
Renegade relishes in his master's touch, leaning into it. He's left naked on display aside from his briefs, revealing his scars- his brands- for Slade's enjoyment.
"I was good." Renegade states, a silly reminder but his way of making sure Slade knows he served him well.
Much better than all the other times. Back when resistance and disobedience was his main trait.
"You were." Slade hums in agreement.
Dick looks away, eyes fixating on the floor. "The shadow..."
"What about the shadow?" Slade asks with his eye narrowing in on Dick. It's like he can see Dick's presence and attempts to squash it by asserting dominance.
"It- it wasn't very nice." Di- Renegade stumbles over his words. He finds the courage to look up. "Not as nice as you are, Master. I don't want it to take me from you."
Slade presses a kiss to Renegade's forehead. "Oh, he won't. Remember what I told you, Apprentice. He doesn't care for you. You're mine."
And with that, the last little part of him that was still hanging on, the part that was completely Dick has finally been worn down into dust. Scattered to the winds, Dick will forever fly free like he always wanted to.
As he should be.
Renegade takes a step forward and into his master's space. His ungloved fingers find the hook of Slade's mask and tug it off. It clatters to the floor, Slade's face naked save for the eyepatch.
Renegade swallows, Slade's eye tracking the movement; zeroing in on his hesitation. But Slade is a patient man and he knows that he's already won.
Renegade parts his lips and closes them around his master's. Slade allows Renegade into his mouth and forces himself as deep as he can get inside Renegade.
Slade's roots have grown, taken hold, and possess everything that he is.
Mind, body, and soul. All belonging to him.