This is an idea I've been plating around with for a while.
Tigress is surprised when she sees Renegade for the first time in the dark red costume standing next to Deathstroke like he was there since the beginning of time, like he belonged there and nowhere else. He was quiet and never looked anyone in the eye, just sulked next to the mercenary and did whatever Deathstroke asked, only referred to the man as, "Master," or, "Slade."
Nothing really stands out about Renegade, but Tigress was well aware of the fact that the Kid couldn't have been older than her, and she knew that meant he should have been under Kaldur's command and not Deathstroke's.
She doesn't ask about it though, knows that it's out of place for her new persona to ask a question like that, so she stays silent and doesn't mention a thing, just listens to the whispers in the air. She doesn't ask Kaldur either, because she can tell that Kaldur doesn't want to talk about Renegade just by watching the way that Kaldur watches Renegade, from the way that Kaldur's frown deepens just that much, looks at Renegade like the kid's got it bad.
It takes a couple of months for Renegade to join their team, and unlike all the times he's next to Deathstroke, he immediately starts talking, doesn't seem to stop until he gets interrupted by an alarm or another person or his mentor. He lightens up the place, and Artemis is surprised by the lack of sadistic comments from a person who seems to brag about being under Deathstroke's wing, is surprised by his over all kindness and consideration like he has a purpose to life other than seeing others suffer. She doesn't really realize how bright his smile is until the first time he disappears randomly. He comes back like nothing happened, and then disappears again, and Artemis gets the gist that this must be normal for him, because no one mentions it.
Cameron likes to joke about Renegade a lot, and Artemis doesn't get many of his jokes until Cameron mentions something about Renegade being Deathstroke's property, makes a joke about how good that aught to feel, and suddenly Artemis understands the undertones of what everyone says about Renegade, suddenly understands the look that Kaldur gives him. Truth be told, she isn't sure why she didn't hear the meaning of things before, realizes that maybe she didn't hear them because she didn't want to. She notices the little things after that, like the fact Renegade shares a room with his mentor even though most students aboard the Light don't, notices the bruises that litter Renegades body when he changes into his costume, like the finger marks near his hips and the ones on his neck, notices that sometimes in the morning when the day is slow, Renegade doesn't bother to hide his limp.
She pities the boy at first, because she immediately assumes that he doesn't have a say in what Deathstroke does to him, thinks that a villain that nice must be being held against his will, but then she realizes that Renegade enjoys what he does, what they do, from the look in his eyes when she watches him kill, from the smile on his face when Deathstroke leans down and whispers something in his ear and places a hand on the inside of Renegade's thigh like they're the only two on the field.
Renegade talks about the kill all night, talks and talks and talks and Artemis doesn't find his voice comforting anymore, because he's talking about watching the life leave the victim's eyes and the feel of the gun in his hand. One of the twins makes a comment, something sassy and stupid in their southern accent, something about the fact that Renegade seems really high about the kill, and Artemis is surprised by the regret and guilt that flashes through Renegade's eyes before he shuts up and doesn't say anything the rest of the night. Instead he stays in the corner and only does what he's told to, suddenly seeming a lot more like the boy that stands next to his Master than the one that does cartwheels behind his Master's back.
Nightwing doesn't ever end up admitting the fact that he does get buzzed from holding the gun in his hand, pretends that the nights with Slade don't happen unless he's in the moments, never does process the fact that he killed because it's against his code, his moral; against everything he's ever been taught.
The only thing he does process is the fact that he took up Slade's offer- the same offer that's been lingering in the back of his mind for years- because it was a good opportunity to keep an eye on Artemis and Kaldur, to make sure that they were okay and safe, to make sure they had more backup just in case. He knows he had some reasoning for not telling them he was going to join them, remembers the reasoning every time he wonders why he hasn't and then forgets it when he's with Slade.
The few times he does let himself process his true intentions, the few times when he's drunk enough that the guilt isn't overbearing and the weight on his shoulders doesn't seem too heavy and the words that the team constantly scream at him doesn't echo in his mind too loud- those few times he wonders why what he's doing is so bad, because it makes him happy, happier than being a hero does, at least. Sometimes he lets himself think for a couple seconds if it's really wrong to miss the feel of Slade, to miss the feeling of being able to prop his legs up on a desk with dirty boots and a spark of rebellion and get a look from a single eye rather than a speech about leadership, wonders if it's wrong to like what he likes.
But then he remembers what Bart's been though, remembers what Jason died for and remembers why he does what he does.
He goes back to Slade's side after that, to stay near the Light and keep an eye on Artemis and Kaldur, because it's the right thing to do.
R&R!