Chapter Text
Summer nights in Gotham were hot and made the air thick. One of the only things that never seemed to change about the gloomy city. Dick’s head was beaded with sweat as he mumbled something about needing short sleeves, glancing back and forth once more before removing his helmet and taking in a much needed breath of cool air. If Slade saw, Dick would probably get a beating and rant about being responsible, but nobody had seen his face in years, not since he was barely a teenager. Dick couldn’t even recognize himself, much less some random civilian.
He let out a slow sigh before pulling the helmet right back on and moving across the skyline that was once his home. Slade loved to give Dick assignments in Gotham, every time proving to Slade (and Dick) that even with an easy opening he would never return to his old life, that he was stuck here forever. When Slade first took Dick as his apprentice the idea of returning to Gotham even for a moment would’ve been a dream, these days it just made him feel sick.
His target was a lab in the north side of town, testing new findings in biotech. It was an easy assignment with a good pay: break in, take the samples and the data, get out.
A janitor walked out the back door, rolling a trash can out and Dick pounced, knocking the man out in one swoop and stealing his ID. It probably wouldn’t get him as far in security as one of the researchers ID’s would, but it’d do for now. He scanned himself and carefully snuck through the blind spots of the cameras. Two guards stood still at the entrance to the lab, guns pulled tight to their chests. Their eyes were relaxed, tired of night duty.
Dick pulled out his stun gun, something Slade would disapprove of, and shot both of the men before they knew what happened. He knelt down to the side of the first man and pulled out his ID. Now all he had to do was scan it to get into the lab and he’d be on his way back home.
Red lights flashed and sirens blared as soon as he tried to scan himself in– the guards didn’t have access to the lab.
Dick scowled before digging through his utility belt and pulling out enough C-4 to blast a hole through the door. He stuck it to the wall quickly and took a few steps back before it blew. He stepped through the hole.
He dug through the paperwork, shoving it all in his bag before going over to some of the samples and carefully collecting them. He was nearly done when he heard a low familiar voice from behind him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
So much for an easy gig, he thought to himself. Dick turned around to look at Batman, towering in his full glory. A table stood between them, Dick searched the room to find his escape. He jumped up, using the table to boost him as he grabbed onto one of the fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling. He swung himself over so he was behind the bat.
He was about to turn around when he felt a kick to the back and was slammed against the wall behind him with an unsatisfying thud. Dick grunted as he looked up to see his attacker, Flamebird, Jason Todd, the replacement. He fought the urge to yell at the man and raised his escrima sticks in a defensive position.
“Renegade,” Todd said, his mouth turning into a tight frown.
Dick didn’t speak, of course not. He couldn’t disobey the clear command of his master. Dick learned many years ago that his voice was never his to use. So, in response, he raised his escrima stick and swung it against Flamebird who countered by attempting to kick under Dick’s feet. The attempt was useless as he grabbed Flamebird’s leg and flipped him over.
Todd let out a yelp before grabbing Dick’s arms and pulling himself back up while forcing Renegade to the ground. Todd pulled out a pair of cuffs and attempted to latch them onto Renegade but before he could, Renegade pulled away, grabbed his gun and pointed it to the others head. Flamebird froze as Renegade pulled himself up and took a few steps away, before turning to bolt out the door, using his grappling gun to disappear into the night.
“Shit,” Jason cussed.
-
Jason was in the medical bay, ice pressed against his chest where a bruise was already starting to form.
“Fucking Renegade,” He groaned, “Did you get the tracker on him at least?”
Bruce grunted in the positive.
“Where’s he now?” Jason stood, walking over to the batcomputer.
“He appears to be relocating to his base. Likely on a private jet. I couldn’t find any airways that are flying planes that match the course he’s on.”
“Where who going?” Tim said as he climbed down the staircase.
“Not your business, Timbo. Aren’t you supposed to be doing homework?” Jason raised an eyebrow at the kid.
Tim shrugged, “Already done. C’mon Jay, y’know I’d be good in this case.”
“Absolutely not,” Bruce scowled, “Jason being allowed is even questionable. Deathstroke is dangerous.”
They went silent after that, eyes flicking over to the Robin memorial in the corner. Dick Grayson. The name stayed unspoken but everyone knew. The Dead Robin, the one that Deathstroke killed nearly a decade ago.
“I’m not Robin anymore. It makes sense to bar off Duke and Steph, but me?” Tim crossed his arms, “At least let me check out the file. I can be on comms.”
“We have Oracle for that,” Bruce said calmly. Jason just stared off at the ground as the two continued to argue.
“Argue too much,” Cass seemed to appear out of thin air, leaning over the bat computer, “Who?”
She pointed to the red dot.
“Renegade, Deathstroke’s apprentice,” Bruce stated and Cass tilted her head.
“Orange masked boy?”
Bruce grunted, “You know him?”
“Met him. I was younger. He is quiet, nice. Not like his Master,” She paused to think, “Lots of blood on his hands, he doesn’t mind it. Gave me gift when met him. Candy.”
Jason scoffed at the idea of the murderous Renegade giving a little girl candy.
“I will go with. Know how to fight him,” Cass nodded, “Tim don’t come, you’ll get hurt.”
“But Cass—” Tim tried to speak but she shushed him.
“No. Little brother won’t get hurt at home. Jason should not come either,” She looks at Jason.
“You’re, like, two months older than me,” Jason crossed his arms, “I almost beat him today anyways. He’s not that good.”
Cass pressed a few buttons on the computer pulling up the footage of Renegade pointing the gun at Jason.
“You dead, he gave you mercy.”
-
Dick felt the cool air of their flat in Jump City as he typed in the code for the door.
“I’m back,” He called out into the large building. He could hear Slade's footsteps as he walked to the living room.
“You’re late,” the assassin mumbled, downing the rest of whatever was in his mug. He was dressed in only a silky robe– he’d probably planned to be asleep at least a few hours before but stayed up waiting for Dick.
“I had a delay,” Dick stated as he began to remove his armor, piece by piece.
Slade frowned in return, eyeing Dick up and down, “What kind of delay?”
“Bats,” He responded easily, pulling off his shirt, tossing it aside haphazardly and falling down onto the couch, his arms spread across the back, “The kid asleep?”
“Doubt it,” Slade grunted, “He doesn’t sleep when you’re not here. Pretends to, but doesn’t.”
Dick only sighed in response, getting up and making his way across the flat. He didn’t bother to knock when he went inside the room, just walked over to the bed.
“Dami?” He whispered, brushing through the kid’s thick black hair.
Damian turned in the bed, looking up at Dick as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The boy had joined Slade two months ago. Talia and Ra’s wanted him to be trained by the best and apparently the crazy assassin cult wasn’t cutting it. It didn’t matter if Slade had a history of hurting, even killing, little kids that got in his way, it just mattered that Slade was the best at what he did.
Dick had always loved taking care of people, part of why he became a hero in the first place. He loved holding people when they were scared, rocking them back into comfort. Dick loved making people smile and making them laugh, healing them in ways medicines couldn’t. Dick loved having Damian and it was the most selfish thing he’d ever done because no child deserved to live with Slade.
“You’re back,” Damian said softly.
Dick nodded, brushing through his hair once again. Even in the dark room he could see Damian’s unnaturally green eyes, sharp as they stared at him.
“How was training?” Dick inspected Damian for any injuries as he spoke.
Damian scoffed in response, “Wilson did not hurt me, if that is what you’re worried about. I am well.”
Dick smiled, “Good.”
He stood up, giving the kids spikey hair one good rub before standing up and going back to the living room where Slade sat. Waiting, as usual, with his legs crossed as he eyed Dick up and down.
“You got hit,” Slade pointed to the bruise forming on Dick’s side.
“I’m sorry, Master,” Dick bowed his head, “Flamebird was also present, I wasn’t expecting him.”
Slade called his apprentice closer and touched the bruise. Noticing Dick’s flinch Slade sunk his hand deeper against his side, causing a searing pain. He smirked when he saw Dick’s visible discomfort dragging his hands lower, delicately sliding down his apprentice’s thighs. Dick’s jaw clenched as he held back words of rejection in his throat and he looked over at Damian's room, the door still cracked slightly open.
The older man went to lean in.
A beeping came from one of the alarms, causing Slade to pull away.
Dick looked over at it, “Someone’s here?”
“You were tracked.”
Slade stood up, grabbing Dick by the throat and shoving him against the wall.
“You will stay here and wait for them to come and when they capture you, you will not speak a word until I come back for you. Do you understand?” Slade yelled.
“Yes, Master.”
“Get dressed. Don’t let them know your identity or you will be punished,” Slade released Dick and walked to his room, grabbing a bag of things.
Dick rubbed his throat before he went to pick up his armor, which was still discarded on the floor. Once he’d put his helmet on he went to Damian's room, shaking the boy awake.
“Someone is here. We’re leaving.”
Damian rubbed his eyes and nodded, following Dick back into the living room and leaning against the young man. Slade had his computer open, looking through the security cameras that were going out one by one. He made a bitter face as he closed his laptop and pulled his helmet on. Slade grabbed Damian by the arm and went to leave through the window.
A deep voice came from behind Dick, “Where’s Deathstroke?”
Dick didn’t bother to turn around, staring forwards as if Batman weren’t behind him. He was slammed against the table, Batman’s face hardened with anger as he looked at Renegade.
“Where is Wilson,” he snarled.
“He won't speak,” Black Bat spoke softly, “Commanded silence. Always is. Not speak to anyone ever.”
Batman made an annoyed grumble as he cuffed Renegade, pulled him up, and dragged him out. Dick didn’t fight it, it was clear what his Master wanted. He wanted Dick to be punished for getting tracked and being captured was his consequence. He’d wait for his Master to come for him.
“I’ll tell Superman we’ve caught him and bring him up to the Watchtower. Maybe the lasso of truth will get something out of him,” Batman said to Cassandra.
Dick froze, Bruce never trusted the league with Gotham business. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off the lasso, even with his training. Slade wouldn’t be able to get him out of the Watchtower, not in time at least. He dug his heels into the ground.
“Don’t like that idea, do you, Renegade?” Batman scowled, dragging him forwards even with Dick’s small struggle.
Batman pressed his communicator, “We have Renegade, ready for pick up.”