Claws of the Court
Summary: AU, During their annual show in Gotham City, Dick Grayson goes missing running an errand for his mother, John and Mary search desperately for their son, a retired soldier for hire offers to help them, and he uncovers a conspiracy that shakes even someone as jaded as Deathstroke, Slade Wilson.
Author's Note: What annoys me about those "Slade is a good guy" stories is they never explain how he's good guy.
A Missing Son
Slade Wilson was sitting in his hotel room, sipping some champagne and preparing to go to work. He was a government contractor, he had a job guarding high level person and worked security, sure it didn't seem like a glamorous job, but it paid the bills and his family lived comfortably.
His life and military career had nearly been derailed when Wintergreen had nearly been killed on a mission; he'd barely managed to convince his superiors to give him permission to go to retrieve him.
The results had been beyond anything he ever expected, his bravery and courage had earned him a Purple Heart and an honorable discharge, government agencies from all over the world wanted to hire "Deathstroke" to protect them, he chose the U.S. government because it suited his interests and it paid very well.
He was enjoying a short reprieve, a three-day break from work, he planned to take his family to the annual spectacle that was Haly's Circus, sure his kids were a little old for it, but they all enjoyed themselves there.
He was channel surfing when he caught a report on the local news.
"16-year-old Dick Grayson, aerial performer and acrobat at Haly's Circus has gone missing after an apparent car accident," the reporter, Vicki Vale told the camera. "We're taking you live to John and Mary Grayson."
The camera image changed to a middle-aged married couple, Slade stiffened, what would he do in that situation? If Grant or Joey went missing he'd do everything he could to find them and put the perpetrator six feet under.
"Please, I don't know who you are or what you want," Mary pleaded, "I'm asking you, please let my son go, he's a good boy and he deserves to come back to us."
"Slade, what are you going to do?" Adeline asked him, she knew he wanted to help them, and that he had the skills to do it.
"I want to help them; this whole case has something wrong with it. I know this was supposed to be a short vacation, but this is something I have to do."
"What about Batman? Can't he find the Grayson boy?"
"He's got his own problems, but I've been itching for some action," he got up and looked at the screen as the news reporter mentioned the circus' location.
Slade drove down to Haly's Circus and found the owner, Pop Haly, he walked into the tent.
"Hello Mr. Haly, I heard about the Flying Grayson's missing son, I want to help them."
"I'm glad you came to offer help to those two, they're my closest friends, but what can you do?" Harrison Haly asked.
"Let's just say, I'm very good at finding people, Mr. Haly, take me to them."
Mr. Haly led him to the Flying Graysons trailer, Mary answered the door.
"Hello Pop, any news about Dick?" she asked, worry in her voice.
"No Mary, but Mr. Slade Wilson has offered to help us find him, he's ex-military, and he said he wants to help."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Wilson, please come in," Mary invited him inside their trailer.
"Thank you, Mrs. Grayson," he smiled at her, he glanced around the trailer, it was warm and welcoming and from what he could tell, its occupants were happy people.
"John, John Pop's here!" Mary called to her husband.
"Pop, any news?" John asked, "Who is this?"
"Slade Wilson," he introduced himself, extending his hand, "I heard about your boy on the news, and I want to help, I'm quite good at finding people."
"John Grayson, circus manager, I'm very grateful you want to help us find Dick." John shook his hand.
"Please sit down, Mary, get him something to drink!" he called over to her, "You want some water, tea, pop?"
"Just water, thanks, so tell me what happened," he gestured to John.
"Dick got his driver's license a week ago, Mary sent him out to get her some groceries, he never came back, Mary called and texted him, but no answer, so we took a truck and went out looking for him, we found our car five miles from the circus, we searched all over for him and called the police, but they're sitting on their hands, they say we don't have enough evidence or witnesses to say that he's a missing person."
"Does Dick text while driving?" Slade asked, maybe he'd sent them a message before he went missing.
"I don't let him text while driving," Mary replied, handing him a glass of water.
"I see. Thank you," he took the water and drank some. "About the police, no AMBER Alert?" Slade frowned, everything John said definitely qualified this for an AMBER Alert, but this was Gotham City and crime happened in broad daylight here.
"I think the cops are dirty, they don't care about my boy and that he's missing," John clenched his fist. "I don't have the resources to search for him; I don't know what to do."
"Where's your car now?" Slade asked the car was a good a lead as any.
"Impounded at the police station, they said they needed to search for clues," John looked over at him.
Slade got up from his seat and prepared to leave, "Thank you for your time, I'll go look around, I'll be back if I find anything."
Mary looked at him, an expression of gratitude and relief on her face, "Slade, thank you."
"Don't thank me yet, not until your son is home with you." He turned and left. He headed to his car and removed his shirt, underneath it was his costume and Kevlar, it was time for Deathstroke to go to work.
Slade headed over to the police station, he snuck inside and found the Grayson's car, the police had taken the car to search for clues, even though it had been wrecked. Mary insisted that Dick was a good driver and that he wasn't the sort to text while driving.
He began searching the floor for Dick's cellphone, which should have been there but it wasn't he'd even checked the evidence locker before that and hadn't found it there either.
"That's interesting, whoever took him didn't want anyone to get a hold of his cell phone, there's not been a ransom demand, but they want people to think there is."
Slade noticed something out of the ordinary, two spots of blood and holes in the driver's seat. They looked like knife holes.
Slade remembered seeing throwing knives all around Haly's Circus. He'd actually asked the knife thrower for one. Slade took it out and compared the holes, now he knew there might be a connection, but circus throwing knives were very common at any circus, but Dick wasn't a knife thrower, he was an acrobat.
John had mentioned that there was fierce competition between rival circuses, but there wasn't one beside Haly's for miles, this wasn't about money, whoever took Dick wanted to make sure that no one would bother looking for him. These guys were good, but who were they? Human traffickers? No, that was a logical answer; none of what he was seeing was logical.
He exited the car, suddenly stopping when he heard something; he could see it out of the corner of his eye, a circus knife flying straight at his head. He used his superhuman reflexes to avoid them.
A voice called down to him, "Impress me, Deathstroke!"
"You know who I am, that's a surprise!" Slade complimented. He rarely used his mercenary moniker, just when what he was doing was very secretive or important.
Deathstroke noted his attacker's appearance, the flashy outfit, he looked like a humanoid owl, with black and brown coloring, and yellow glowing yes, he was covered from head to toe in armor and across his chest was dozens of razor-sharp throwing knives.
Slade removed a desert eagle and opened fire, he hit the attacker in the head and chest, shots that would kill any normal human being, but Slade immediately knew that this wasn't any ordinary human being, especially when he stood up and kept moving towards him, any normal man would be terrified, but Deathstroke was fascinated.
"You can regenerate, interesting, and your outfit is far too flashy for my tastes," he crossed his arms.
Kicking his attacker away from him, he watched as the assassin regenerated.
The Talon, William Cobb glared at him, "Broken bones for someone who can regenerate, I said impress me!"
"I'm not here to impress you, but I'll be happy to kill you!" Slade snarled.
He removed his promethium sword and slashed at the Talon. "Now who are you?"
"Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon for your head."
"It's an urban legend, anyone can dress up in a costume and spout that silly nursery rhyme," Slade sneered, "But you have skills."
Slade slashed out costumed assassin's eyes, hoping that if he couldn't see, Slade could turn the fight to his advantage. Suddenly, the Talon threw half a dozen knives in his direction, Slade somersaulted backward.
Slade avoided most of the throwing knives, only to have one embed itself in his left shoulder. He ignored the pain and ripped it out, throwing it back at his attacker, who, to his amazement, caught it.
Slade blocked a flurry of fierce punches William Cobb sent his way, "Good technique," he twisted the man's arm hard, breaking it, he heard Cobb groan in pain "But not good enough. Your skills are old and a hundred years out of date."
"The Grayson boy is ours! That boy is my legacy!" Cobb hissed.
"So you do have him," Slade pondered, he slashed Cobb across the chest with his sword, "In that case, I'll need you alive, to interrogate you."
Slade removed his line launcher and connected William Cobb to a nearby car, slamming it into the undead assassin.
"You'll never find Dick Grayson; he belongs to the Court of Owls!"
"I always did like a challenge, but you're coming with me!" Slade kicked the man across the head; Cobb removed a pair of knives and slammed them into Slade's upper arms.
Cobb decided to make a break for it; this was supposed to be a quick assassination, not a prolonged fight. He threw down a smoke bomb and fled.
Slade slammed his fist into a nearby car, his one good lead was gone, but he was suspicious, the only people who knew where he was were the Graysons, so there was no way this assassin just followed him there, perhaps they were waiting for him.
It didn't take scientific enhancements for him to deduce that someone had tipped this "Court of Owls" off to what he was doing. It'd be stupid for the Flying Graysons to be involved; they clearly wanted their son back.
Clearly, someone at Haly's Circus was involved with this supposedly mythical Court of Owls, but why would someone in the circus kidnap a 16-year-old boy?
He glanced around, he spotted the hilt of one of the many throwing knives used by William Cobb in their fight, he picked it up and examined it, comparing it to the knife he had borrowed from the circus. They were the same, except for the owl's head on the hilt.
He returned to the Grayson trailer, glancing around to make sure he wasn't followed.
John Grayson opened the door, "Slade, did you find something?"
"Can I come in?" Slade queried.
"Yes, please, Mary Slade's back!" he called to her.
Mary came to the door and wrung her hands nervously, "Any sign of Dick?"
Slade decided to tell them what he'd discovered, "One thing I can tell you John is that someone inside Haly Circus kidnapped your boy."