A/N: Yay! Here it is! I'm so excited! I am actually really ahead in this story, I'm on chapter twelve already! I have so many plans and it's going to be awesome! So...yeah, I was a dummy and thought the 18th was a Friday but it's a Thursday so I guess I'm posting on Thursdays now until further notice! So yeah, as with any story it'll start off a bit slow with some annoying bits of recap of things you already know if you read the first story...this is just so that if someone reads it they realize something big has happened and will go find the first story to read before continuing with this one.

Anyways, as promised here's the first chapter and the second chapter of this story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

Chapter: 1

Darren sat on the edge of a rooftop in the center of Gotham City. Shivering slightly in his cloak. He stiffly pulled it tighter around his shoulders. His movements had been sluggish all night because of the cold and he did not like the feeling it gave him. Winter was awful. He used to love the snow and the cold, but now that he was a Talon—an undead (ex)assassin for the Court of Owls—the cold shut him down. It froze him like a statue if exposed to it without proper layers or protection, a Talon could shatter because of the cold. He'd seen it happen once, and it was not pretty or inviting. His Renegade suit, the mantle he took up after proving to Batman—Bruce Wayne—he could behave and not kill anyone, was insulated but this particular night was a frigid one so he was forced to wear the black cloak that was heated like those electronic blankets people used.

Sitting around didn't help much. Not at all. But he was on probation, even though it had been nearly a week and a half since he started working with the Bats, and couldn't go off on his own…not yet. He still needed to prove himself, they'd only just let him bring his dual blades on patrol with him. There had been a long and extensive argument about that. While it was a risk to let an assassin who was just learning to be nonlethal out on patrol in a city full of people with weapons, Bruce and Damian—the ones who were training him, with the occasional help from his cousin Dick and Tim or better known as Nightwing and Red Robin—figured it was better for him to have them in case the Court attack. They were still slighted that Darren refused to obey them and that he had slaughtered a significant number of their members, Talons and Owls—the ones in command of the Court—alike.

They still wanted Darren. They wanted to control him, make him their assassin again…or they wanted to kill him. Darren didn't know which and neither did his contact within the Court, Malik, or Calvin—another Talon who was Darren's friend and who had also escaped the Court—who has been MIA since he helped save his life weeks ago. And speaking of MIA, his father still hasn't contacted him since they talked before Dick barged in on their conversation. His father and cousin hated each other, for many reasons known and unknown to Darren. Slade Wilson, or commonly known as Deathstroke a feared and highly wanted mercenary, was his father. He and Dick had history—the rather unpleasant kind of history. Darren was slightly relieved his parents hadn't been married, otherwise Slade would be Dick's uncle by marriage and he didn't want to see Dick's reaction to that. The thought still brought a small grin to his face,

"Are you still there?" came a gruff voice through the phone in his hand,

"Yes," he stated gruffly. Technically there were no phones allowed on patrol, but Darren needed his that night so he snuck it with him, not only because he needed help but because he was bored out of his mind. This person wasn't on their comm device frequency all the time either,

"Then make it quick kid. I need to tail this mob boss and if I have you yapping in my ear I'll lose him," Jason Todd growled from somewhere in the city below…or somewhere else entirely. The—sort of—pariah of the Bats never really let the other members in on where he went and what he did,

"Didn't know you were so distractible, very unprofessional,"

"Kid," Jason growled angrily. Darren sighed and bit his lip before responding,

"I need help?" he didn't know if that was the right word,

"Like help on my algebra homework kind of help or help?" Darren rolled his eyes and sighed, running his free hand over his forearm. A subconscious nervous habit he developed after being mercilessly tortured by his great-grandfather. The scars that were cut into his skin were just under the suit and sometimes he unconsciously rubbed at them as if they still hurt him.

In addition to being one of the only other vigilante members that has killed, Jason was also the only one who has been killed. Like Darren himself. Now he unconsciously rubbed the back of his neck, how he had been killed—a snapped neck—he sighed. No matter what, those things never really left him. They bothered him no matter where he was or what he thought and it was tiresome. Jason helped him through the nightmares…or he would more often if Darren actually called him for help. He was still getting used to letting others help him shoulder the burdens he bore, and getting comfort from nightmares was still new to him. He did not have the most emotionally supportive upbringing…or so he'd been told by the others,

"No to either,"

"Then what is it?"

"A favor," that was a better word,

"What kind of favor?" Darren quickly explained what he had planned for a while now,

"Are you sure? There's no going back if you go through with this,"

"I'm sure,"

"I dunno, this seems like something that is irresponsible and not my call to make,"

"C'mon Jason. It'll help me, it's illegal and it'll piss Dick off. You can't refuse that," silence on the other end, for so long that Darren was worried he'd been caught by the mob boss but then Jason let out a sigh,

"Dammit, you know me too well. Fine. Just let me know when this is happening,"

"Oh…and one other thing,"

"What?"

"What should I get Dick for his birthday?"

"Seriously?"

"Come on, please! I have no idea what to do, I've never had to do something like this before!"

"Just get him something with elephants. He likes them,"

"That's not helpful,"

"Then ask someone else…wait…aren't you supposed to be on patrol? You know phones aren't allowed!"

"Yeah like you follow that rule,"

"I follow my rules, you follow Bruce's that's the deal you made. When you're older you can patrol anyway you want but as of now, you want to play by Bruce's rules because you don't want to kill anyone—even if they do deserve it,"

"Jason," Darren muttered rolling his eyes, "Yes I'm on patrol…well, I'm supposed to be," Darren muttered glumly,

"What's up? Did Bruce bench you for tearing someone in half?" Darren ignored the reference to his enhanced strength, speed and agility,

"No. I'm partnered with Tim and he's doing 'recon' and told me to sit here, be quiet and wait for him to come back. I mean, I'm an assassin I know how to be quiet and I know how to collect information without being caught,"

"Tim's a perfectionist and despite working on a team with a bunch of teenage superheroes he's not that used to working with people, or having to babysit someone," Darren decided to ignore that statement,

"Yeah well it's annoying and belittling,"

"Wow, big words for a dyslexic,"

"Shut up," Darren growled, rolling his eyes,

"Just teasing, relax," Darren heard someone land lightly on the roof behind him,

"Got to go. Good luck tailing the mob boss,"

"Kick some ass kid," with that Darren stood up and faced the person behind him. It was a Talon, but one he knew as a friend not an enemy,

"Malik," he said, his breath dancing in front of him. Darren pulled the hood of his cloak over his head more so his ears were covered.

"Novice," that's all he ever called him. Like his father and cousin, he and Malik had a rocky history though as of now they were allies and it was never to the degree of Slade and Dick's hatred for one another,

"Do you have what I asked for?"

"It was not easy to get and I don't even want to know why you need it, but yes," he pulled out a small vial filled with reddish liquid. Darren grimaced at the sight of it, his old wounds stinging as if remembering what it felt like to have that poison racing through his veins. For a Talon there were three chemical drugs that encompassed their life: Electrum, the Serum and the Cure. Electrum was what made them Talons. It brought them back from the dead with enhanced abilities and an extended, virtually ageless, life. The Serum is what poisoned or killed them, fast or slow it all depended on the concentration. And finally the Cure, which saved them from the fate of the Serum, though it took a while to take affect and to flush out the Serum. Darren had experienced all three and survived, plus Mirakuru, a drug biologically inherited from his father which added to his abilities,

"Thank you," he said taking the vial carefully from the older Talon and putting it in one of the compartments of the belt around his waist,

"This life seems to fit you well," Malik said, "It is good to see you less…unhappy,"

"Yeah. Thanks I guess. You should get going, you don't want anyone to see you talking to me,"

"What do you want with the Serum?" Malik asked, not leaving without answers it seemed,

"I need to for myself,"

"What do you plan on doing?" for some reason it seemed Malik was concerned all of the sudden,

"I'm not going to kill myself," Darren stated dryly, "I want to get a tattoo," he'd been considering it even before becoming Renegade, but he thought that once he'd settled into that role the oppressive feeling of the scar's message would go away, but it hasn't. It's become stronger, his self-doubt along with it,

"What?" Malik stated, "Why?" Darren understood Malik's confusion. Talons developed mutated, deteriorated black veins in various locations on their body a month or two after becoming a Talon. It was a nasty side effect from the Electrum and being brought back from the dead. Darren, having not only the Electrum in his blood stream but Mirakuru didn't develop those mutated veins-something he was thankful for. But to Malik there was no point in creating more ink colored swirls and designs on the skin, that was why he thought it was a ridiculous thing to do,

"To hide my scars, I don't want to be reminded of the Court every time I see them. I want to remember that freedom is a gift and that I am lucky to have it and I should not waste it," Malik stared at him for a moment before shaking his head,

"And you think covering them with a tattoo will do that? I don't think I'll ever understand your generation or you for that matter. Do what you like, just don't kill yourself in the process, you know what that poison can do,"

"I won't, now go, Red Robin's on his way I can hear him coming back," with an eye roll and huff of a breath Malik was gone leaving Darren alone on the rooftop,

"How did recon go?" Darren asked as Tim landed on the roof a few paces away, trying not to sound too annoyed at being left behind,

"There's drug business going down, fear toxin and vertigo by the looks of it, at the harbor. Scarecrow isn't there yet and I think we should step in,"

"I hate drugs," Darren agreed, "let's do it," with a sly grin on both their faces they started off towards the sound of trouble.

A/N: Yay, first chapter down! You guys know the drill! Any questions, comments, concerns and/or criticisms leave a review or PM moi! I am really looking forward to you thoughts on the first chapter of this story!

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!