Collection of OS concerning Richard's life with Slade. Obviously, 'Apprentice' is Dick and 'Master' is Slade. This has a looot of abuse in it and hints of what is gonna come up.

Next chapter is where everything happens! This is more of a prologue of sorts telling you guys about Dick's childhood. Next chapter is where the story actually starts!

Gonna try and make each chapter at least 4k words, but no promises.

It's not loneliness that makes being alone unbearable. It's accepting the fact that out of the 6.93 billion people in the world, not a single soul fought hard enough to be with you.

Slde glared at Luthor. "You want me to do what?!"

Lex wasn't phased and simply nodded his shiny bald head. "I believe an apprentice would be good for you," The billionaire continued. "With a protegee, you will have someone to take down any of the other brats the Justice League finds," He added with a dark undertone. Slade wanted to break something; preferably Luthor's neck.

"So you think I am incompetent by myself?" He asked with malice dripping from every word.

Lex shook his head. "No; I am only saying that I believe with an apprentice, you will have something to do other than sulk in your hideout and count the money you make."

Yep, killing Luthor was now on Slade's bucket list.

The Assassin glared at the billionaire. "I'll think about it," was all he said before he turned and vanished. Lex sighed and went back to signing paperwork.

Why is it all the creepy people do that?

Slade sat back in his chair, thoughts turning over and over in his mind. An apprentice? The man had to be joking. He was never going to let a child go near him again; not after Grant -

Ending train of thought.

Slade sighed and glared at the newspaper article on his desk, and after a few seconds of debate, reached for it and skimmed the sorry excuse for a paper. However he felt the strongest sense of rightness as he read the title 'Circus comes to Happy Harbor! Flying Graysons Perform!' After reading the article, (and laughing at the author's obvious stupidity), Slade quickly learned that the Graysons had a five year old son, and he was a gymnastics prodigy. And the owner of the circus…. Harley? Zucco had been after the man for months.

It was as if the universe planned it all out for him.

Slade pulled out his untraceable phone and called his information broker, a dark gleam in his hidden eye. You wanted me to get an apprentice Luthor? Your wish is granted at the expense of innocent lives.

~ Six Years Old ~

The little boy shivered in the room. It was dimly lit, and what little light was there hardly made a difference. But the boy's wide, glowing blue eyes resonated deep pain and loss as he shivered, naked in the almost darkness. There was nothing in the room except for a dingy tile floor that was covered with unknowns. Dried blood and spoilt food littered the ground, caking the boy's naked form as he curled into himself. Looking at the boys' broken and trembling form, one's heart would break as the child couldn't have been more than six years old.

A small voice broke the silence. "Mami? Tati?" The little boy lifted his head, blue eyes glowing unearthly in the dim light. "Why did you fall…?"

A sound could be heard; keys in a lock. The gears quivered and shifted, an unseen door opening. A figure stood, light shadowing their form and making them a silhouette. "Have you learned your lesson Apprentice?" The voice asked, malice edging their tone. Apprentice flinched at the figure's words and answered quickly, fear replacing the dazed look in his eyes. "Y-yes master."

Master moved forward, and the dim light revealed their appearance. Black spandex suit with orange and back body armor, fitting closely yet leaving gaps to allow a large amount of flexibility. The man's face - for it was indeed a man - was concealed by a two faced mask; one side was painted black, and the other was orange and exposed an eyehole.

"Come Apprentice," Master ordered, and Apprentice shakily stood to his feet. Master handed Apprentice a thin pair of shorts, which the boy quickly hopped into. They left the room and walked down a sparsely lit hallway. Apprentice followed Master as fast as he could, forcing himself to keep up to Master's stride. Coming to the end of the hallway, Master stood in front of a door and opened it, slinking inside.

Apprentice followed soon after, his footsteps silent on the cold tile floor. Inside, the room was damp and quite cold. Apprentice shivered, and as he stepped into the fluorescent light, his appearance became apparent. Blood, dirt and grime caked every inch of his body. His matted hair hung halfway to his shoulders, and it was so greasy and dust filled one could hardly tell the original color.

Master flicked a switch on the side of the wall, and moved behind a concealed door. Apprentice took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, holding onto a drain pipe for dear life.

Torrents of water shot from all directions, hitting him dead on and flinging him to the ground. Apprentice choked and sputtered, the water continuing to fall with no sign of stopping. When it seemed the boy was going to drown in the power hose shower, the water turned into a fine mist, and he gasped for air, sitting on the tile, most of the grime gone but not quite.

As he started to scrub himself with the collected water on the ground and mist in the air, the grime and dirt fell to the floor, revealing a much more horrid sight. Scars littered his body in a torturous way, most having a silvery sheen but others looking recently inflicted. And some… some were words. Words and phrases that cut into his skin and seemed to make marks on his very soul.

Useless, worthless, nothing, ugly, stupid, never good enough, you will never amount to anything - They went on and on and on.

Apprentice started to wash out his long shaggy hair, the grease slowly leaving. His wiry limbs looked no more than skin covering bones. Ribs made themselves known; four poking out from the skin, eight more still hidden yet it didn't take one very long to realize if the child did not receive food soon, he would perish.

Soon, the boy was completely clean, his hair dripping wet, it's raven black color shining in the dim lights. Master walked out from the air tight room and handed the boy a dingy towel and a fresh change of clothes, his parting words being, "Dress yourself and report to the training room."

Apprentice bowed low as Master left, and then he quickly dried himself off with the towel, scrubbing his hair as fast as he could and hopping into a black spandex suit, orange thread and an 'S' symbol emblazoned on the chest. The fabric covered every inch of his skin, and as the boy placed the half mask over his face, he sighed and turned his face up to the flickering fluorescent lights, his blue eyes closed and a look of peace forming on his young face.

"I love you Mami, Tati," He whispered into the air. "Even if you do not love me."

~ Eight Years Old ~

Master glared down at Apprentice. "You worthless brat! Disobedience is not tolerated!" He struck the boy, who cowered on the tile floor.

"I'm s-sorry Master! P-please!" He cried, holding his hands in front of his face in a desperate attempt to escape the inevitable blows.

"I do not accept mercy," Master spat, and a coil was unwound from his hands. Apprentice saw this, and his blue eyes widened in fear. A whimper escaped him, but his eyes were cold and accepting. It was inevitable.

The rope fell down, down, down… blood dripped onto the tile floor, deep gashes forming in his skin, old scars tingling and newer ones threatening to re-open. Apprentice bit his lip, knowing that if he made a single sound, Master would punish him severely. As the eighth lash fell, Apprentice squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip harder, drawing blood; his untrimmed nails digging into his palms and adding to the blood flow.

At last, the fifteenth lash had landed, and the searing pain and drip-drip-drop of the blood on his back landing on the tile was the only sound in the room. Master rolled the whip back up into a coil and placed it back on his belt. Apprentice made no sound, not wanting to displease Master. Something was thrown at him, and Apprentice looked down at the object that had landed next to his hands. It was a rag.

"Clean up your mess," Master ordered, placing a bucket next to the boy. Apprentice nodded and stood shakily to his feet, bowing to Master and nearly biting a hole in his lip. Master left the room, and Apprentice quickly got to work, ignoring the searing pain in his back. It wouldn't do to displease Master.

~ Ten Years Old ~

Apprentice dodged the bullet, swinging off the high bar and kicking the dummy in the face. Rubber coated bullets flew around him, and one nicked his ear, but Apprentice ducked in time. Twirling his bo-staff, he stopped all of the bullets surging for him, and the few he missed made impact with the wall behind him.

Breathing hard, Apprentice glared at his bangs as they landed in his eyes. As the mechanical whirring stopped, Apprentice forced himself to be calm as he stood at attention when Master walked towards him, inspecting his progress. Seeing the abundance of bullets on the ground, Master eyed Apprentice and nodded his approval.

Apprentice felt his heart swell, and he stood a bit straighter, blue eyes gleaming. Master's gaze fell onto the wall, and the approval in his stance was replaced with disgust, and he whirled around and hit Apprentice in the face, leaving an angry hand shaped welt.

"Again," Master hissed, and Apprentice nodded. "Yes Master."

Master left the room, and the machines started to whirr again. Apprentice readied his bo-staff and prepared to start again, determination in his bright blue eyes, ignoring the sting of the blow that Master had dealt. After all, he had failed. He deserved the punishment.

Bullets started to spray him in all directions, and Apprentice hit them all, twirling in the room, the rubber bullets hitting the ground. He wanted to be praised again, to be loved again - The silhouettes of a family fell to the ground, their blood soaking the earth, their forms broken and misshapen - But he was never loved by them. Master was the only one who cared for him, because to everyone else, he was just a worthless nothing.

He had the scars to prove it.

~ Eleven Years Old ~

Apprentice glared at the hair that fell in front of his eyes. Enough was enough! A low growl in his throat, the boy gripped the dagger he had snatched from training and sat down, peering down into the bucket he was using as a mirror.

Slowly, the dark locks fell onto the floor, and the weight that had hung onto his head for so long disappeared. Quickly, he cut his bangs as short as he possibly could, and as he shook out his freshly cut hair, he decided he liked the choppy style. And the best part was that nothing would be able to get in the way of his sight!

A rare smile on his face, Apprentice picked up every stray hair that had landed on the ground and put it into a small makeshift basket he had snatched from melting rubber from the training room.

Soon the room was spotless and Apprentice dunked his head into the bucket of water, coming up every two seconds in case Master walked inside and held him down for longer.

As Apprentice decided no more small hairs would make him itchy during training, he heard footsteps and his heart froze. Master was coming.

Like a rocket, Apprentice grabbed a towel and scrubbed his hair dry, panic in his eyes. With seconds to spare, he wiped up the water around the bucket and hunched himself over, making his eleven year old frame smaller.

Master looked down at the boy, and seeing his newly cut hair, growled.

"What did you do, Apprentice?" Master snarled.

Apprentice forced himself to answer without stuttering. "I was being hampered by the hair that hung in m-my face s-so I decided to c-cut it o-off-"

"With what?" Master all but screamed. Apprentice threw his hands over his head in a defensive position; this was a bad idea Master was going to beat him again, oh no no no no no-

"W-with a d-dagger," Apprentice whimpered. Master looked all but furious as he gripped the small blade in his hands, and then drove it down into Apprentice's shoulder. The boy let out an ear piercing scream, fire coursing through his nerves as Master dragged the blade down farther.

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear," Master hissed, letting go of the blade and stepping back to kick the young boy in the stomach, "You do not speak unless spoken to, you do not touch anything without direction, and you do not handle weapons outside of the training room."

Apprentice let out another soft whimper as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain that coursed through him.

"What is the punishment for taking something that doesn't belong to you?"

Apprentice opened his eyes and shakily whispered, "No food, f-fifteen lashes and the w-weapon you t-take is used on y-you."

"Good boy." The voice purred, but Apprentice was too far gone to realize he had been praised.

"What is the punishment for speaking without being spoken to?"

"A broken bone," Apprentice whimpered, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"What is the consequence for touching something your Master does not give you consent to?"

Apprentice bit his lip to bite back the scream. "The room."

Master nodded and picked the boy up by his suit, orange and black colors bleeding into the background.

"You will regret ever being born today," Master sneered, and Apprentice couldn't take it anymore. He melted into the darkness.

~ Thirteen Years Old ~

He was running through a tunnel, passing by colorful walls and laughing, happy faces. He stopped at a shining light and raised his hands up to a silhouette, who picked him up and held him close. She smelled like vanilla and popcorn, and as he rested on her hip, the overwhelming sense of safety threatened to drown him.

"One day you will fly, my little robin," She said to him and laid her lips onto his forehead, and he scrunched up his face into a pout. Vaguely he realized his actions were not his own; but the thoughts inside his mind, the knowledge and horror of what was going to happen, what he knew was going to happen made him want to scream.

A man appeared next to the woman and ruffled his hair, a grin on his face. "See ya Rob," The man beamed, and then he was standing on his own again, the sound of cheering crowds nearly deafening him as the ringmaster continued to announce the act.

And then all was silent and the light faded away, the bright and cheerful colors on either side of him looking oddly sinister. Blood started to fill the hall, and it covered everything. A man's haunting face stood above all the bodies, glaring at the ringmaster in the untold sense of I told you so.

The blood was starting to drown him, and right as he was about to fall under and never resurface, strong hands pulled him out and into a dark room where the man brandished his whips and knives as he carved the words into him. "They never loved you," The man told him as he was raised into the air. "No one loves you."

And then he shot awake, voice hoarse from screaming. Apprentice was met with a dark room, and as he moved his legs and felt the filth that coated him yet again, he remembered. He disobeyed Master and was in the room. He had a nightmare.

Shivering, Apprentice curled himself into a ball yet again and fought the urge to make any more noise. He was always punished for screaming.

And as his eyes started to close and his mind slip into the oblivion of sleep, a sense of peace washed over him as the beautiful voice hummed in his ear.

"One day you will fly, my little robin."

The welcoming scent of vanilla and popcorn washed over the boy as he once again sank into unconsciousness.

Slade wanted to break something. How dare that child disobey him again and again?! None of the whippings, carvings and isolation seemed to get the point across. He needed to try something new, something that would instill obedience into the child. Glancing down at his phone, Slade hesitated before dialing the number. "Tetch? I'm in need of a favor…"

So... yeah. I'll be repeating some of this stuff [Like that Richard's mom smells like vanilla and popcorn; will appear frequently.] The part where he is cleaned off by a power hose will also be a major factor in this story, and next chapter: The League discover's Apprentice's existence and whisk him away to the safety of the Watchtower!

Batman/Richard moments will happen soon; not right away tho, because the kid needs bonding time with the other Leaguers. AND! He is his rightful age (13) next chapter and up, but his mentality switches from a six year old to a thirteen year old here and there. [Ex: Is like a six year old when he's terrified and gets a panic attack; develops his usual 'Robin' mentality later on.]

This chapter was 3k words! Next will be 4k! [Probably. No promises, but it will be higher than 1k. Promise.]