Hey guys! This is my first fanfic, so if you have suggestions I'm all ears. Plus that may be my excuse if I can't figure something out right away (technology isn't exactly my strong point). The story takes place after the invasion, so more towards a season three of young justice if you will. Jason is dead and Wally is still "ceased." I will be updating either every week or every other. And I think that's about it. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did young justice would have never been canceled.

I briskly sprint up the final steps to the roof top towering ninety-eight floors above the rest of the sleeping city. The door slid open soundlessly, revealing the cool crisp night. A shiver ran down my spine as I took off. The great plunge was always my favorite part. Stomach rising into my throat, pupils dilating, and heart beat pounding, this was the only time I felt anymore. Fear and thrill push away the obedience and submission caused by a drug induced haze.

Blending into the darkness, my body drops several stories. Other buildings begin to rise as I become near enough to grapple onto an outstretched balcony. Swinging over another city, after slitting another throat, of another late night business man whose name I will write down later for remembrance, I attempt to clear my mind of the lingering fog.

I've done it before; cleared the haze, come out of the fog, thought for myself, run away. I lived for a year on my own. A year of peaceful travel. A year of fearful escape. A year away from him. But a year that couldn't last. Because he took a new apprentice. He made someone else suffer in my place. He took a boy from his father and family, tormented and tortured him, stripped him of his humanity, and turned him against those he loved. I couldn't allow it to happen to someone else. I had to go back. I had to save the boy. Even if it meant crawling back to him. The man who gladly agreed to take me back and leave the other as a fond memory. I was his favorite apprentice after all, daddy's little girl.

That was six years ago. And six years since I've been free of this haze that clouds my mind. He's upped the dosage since then to make sure I don't run again. Injections every other day in order to keep me from truly clearing my mind. And when a dose is missed, withdraw springs on my body without the least bit of hesitation. I'm addicted, and I have no control. But that's the price I paid to let the bird go free. The price for leaving a bread crumb trail so his team could find him. I even went as far as breaking him out of his cell and giving him a com to contact the bat. Took a brutal beating as punishment for leaving home for a year. Sacrificed my entire life to do something that I hate. And that boy doesn't even know who actually saved him.

"Shadow, report." The commanding voice booms through my earpiece, bringing me out of my struggling thoughts.

A quick jolt of fear runs through my body, tensing my shoulders and curling my fists. My jaw tightens, making it slightly more difficult for me to respond. "Yes?"

"What's your location?" As if the tracker embedded in my hip keeps him from already knowing.

"Two minutes until rendezvous." I hear a short grunt of approval and am then welcomed by utter silence. He's gone, for now. I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, as some of the tension in my body dissipates. I can't take much more of this. But you have to. I remind myself. Because if you don't, he'll just get a new apprentice. And I can't let anyone else feel this kind of pain.

After a quick surveillance, I land on a near rooftop and proceed to the base below. Stripping off various knives, swords, guns, and ammo, two masks, and layers of Kevlar, I quickly change, preparing for late night training and a possible punishment.

The equipment has been moved to accommodate for a larger space in the center of the room. Not a good sign. I walk out into the middle of the space and prepare for whatever will be thrown first. Three throwing stars come from above as I dodge them with ease. And then he's there, right in front of me. Standing tall with sword drawn, the orange half of his mask reveals his good eye. "Welcome back. I trust you were successful."

I relax slightly. It's a statement, not a question. Which means that the punishment won't be as severe tonight. Swallowing I nod once. "Yes daddy."

His eye squints slightly, revealing a proud smile. "That's my girl." I dodge quickly as his blade comes down to my right shoulder, jump back to avoid a kick to the stomach, and leap over him to try and get a better vantage point. This is how training will got for the next several hours, until I receive three cuts and then a punishment will be distributed depending on his approval of how long I lasted. When I first started at the age of seven, punishments were harsh. Beatings resulted in broken bones. Whippings tore flesh on my exposed back. Electric shocks caused a twitch to run through my body for the next day or two. Now it just resulted in a few bruises and a bloody lip or nose. Nothing that wouldn't heal within the next week. Training punishments typically only followed assignments though, which usually only occurred twice to four times a week. It's actually a nice break compared to the nightly missions I had after I first returned.

A deep slice across my stomach brings me back to my surroundings. It's painful but I don't cry out. Showing pain is showing weakness, and that will just make things worse for myself. "Pay attention sweetheart." The soft reminder is anything but what it sounds like.

"Yes daddy." I respond as I dodge his sword and kick out to bring him to the ground, delivering a swift punch to his shoulder making him release the sword. I smirk. Now I have a weapon, and things just got easier.

Removing his mask to reveal a proud smile, he reaches for a second sword strapped behind his back. "Very good sweetheart. I believe you're ready for your next mission."

My hands clench the hilt tighter as I aim for his torso. He blocks, but not without me clipping part of his left hand. My ears are satisfied as I hear him take in a quick breath, but I don't allow the emotion to travel to my face. Perhaps if I keep from showing emotion he won't see that I need another injection tonight.

We continue on until five a.m. when he suddenly puts his sword away. I quickly stop to avoid impaling his chest. "That's all for tonight sweetheart." Turning he sets the sword down in its proper place. And proceeds to the door leading into the med bay. "Follow." He states. I obey walking in behind him as the door swings on its hinges. "Up." I oblige and sit on the table before him. Taking out various cleaners and bandages he patches up the cuts and scratches from the training session. Lightly fingering my jaw he checks for any breaks that might have occurred from the punch I failed to avoid. After he's done I go to move, but he puts up a hand. "Stay." I settle back down and inwardly sigh as my hope of keeping my head clear for the night is crushed. I produce the underside of my forearm. He takes it gently in his hands, cleans the area thoroughly, inserts the needle in my vein, and presses down the plunger. My mind slowly leaves me, but not fully. To this my brown scrunches slightly questioning my father. "A lower dose this time." He smiles. "You've been a good girl, sweetheart." He says as he pats my arm and places a bandage over the bleeding pin prick. "More control. But it should last until your next mission." My eyes shot to his face then. "So eager are we?" He chuckled. "Calm down sweetheart. It'll be another week until your briefing. Until then we'll be training every day to make sure you're ready." I nod stiffly, which brings a smile to his face. "Don't worry sweetheart. It's nothing you can't handle. After all, you've learned from the best." I smile slightly, but the emotion is lost when his brow scrunches. "Your employer would like you to take out a special target."

I can't keep the next word from escaping my lips. "Who?"

He smiles and shakes his head. "Now, now sweetheart. You know the routine. Mission briefings come after the higher dosage, keeping you from refusing orders." I stop breathing. Typically he is less careful when it comes to a quick assassination. But this mission must be different, longer and more destructive if he refuses to reveal anything before he knows for sure that I can't refuse. He flashes me a quick smile that may possible be genuine. I blame the thought of him acting like a father on the drugs as he kisses my forehead and helps me down. "Now off to bed with you."

I nod and go to leave the room. "Goodnight daddy."

"Goodnight sweetheart." He responds, and turns back to clean up the medical supplies left on the table.

Lying in bed I silently stare at the ceiling as I count the tiles and try to forget the face of the man I killed several hours ago. He was local this time. Not having to use a fatherbox was always nice. The feeling of being teleported was not a pleasant experience and certainly not one I enjoyed. The murder will be in the news in just a few hours. And I will promptly ignore the anchor man speaking of the tragedy and the mourning family he left behind. But in the end I will never truly be able to escape it. Though the drug keeps me from making decisions, it never takes complete control. So after ever death everything is still there. Whether it's there as I carry out the act or the experience comes all at once several hours later in a crippling flashback, I will always see the fear in their eyes, hear their begs of mercy, and remember the tightness of my chest mirroring how I gripped my sword. It's at night that these memories visit my dreams, and in the day when they haunt my thoughts. And it's now that I remembered how Mr. James Millner pleaded for me to spare him because then his four year old little girl wouldn't become an orphan. Laying there I realize that he was no threat to anyone, just a man in the wrong place at the wrong time. A man who was suspected in seeing something that he shouldn't have, but never actually confirmed. It was these things that I thought of while begging for sleep to settle in, hoping to take some refuge in a dream that may not hold as much pain as reality. But sleep didn't come so easily, so I decide to wait patiently. While the haze lingers at the edge of my mind. Not fully engulfing it, but not entirely releasing it either.

The next week continues as any other, besides the lack of missions. Friday morning, however, I am greeted with a class schedule at Gotham State University. I look up from my breakfast in question. "My next mission?"

My father nods with a slight smile. "That's right sweetheart. School starts Monday."

"What year am I?"

"A senior, same as your target. Your transcripts show that you transferred credits from your previous school."

I raise an eyebrow. "I transferred credits my senior year?"

He scoffs in slight amusement. "It's a stretch, but not unheard of. In your case, the school dropped two of the classes you needed to graduate from its curriculum. And Gotham State was the only chance for you to graduate on time."

I nod slightly confused as to why he is telling me all of this. "The other dosage?" I ask hopefully. Perhaps I don't need it?

He grunts in disapproval. "Your employer wishes to keep you on a lesser dosage. The same one you've had for the past week." He scratches his chin in thought and eyes me from across the table. "It'll last longer so you don't have to inject as often. But keep in mind that you still have that tracker in you." He threatens slightly.

I nod. "Yes daddy."

He smiles cruelly. "Anyway your employer thinks that a clearer mind will be better suited for this mission."

I'm taken aback slightly. "And why is that?"

He smirks. "Because sweetheart, your mission is to get close to your target before actually taking him out."

"To extract information."

He shakes his head. "No, your employer already knows everything he needs to about your target."

My confusion heightens. Does this employer mean for me to play with my victim first? How sick can you get? "Then why not just kill him right away?" I begin to dread asking that question.

He smirks again, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Because my little girl is being challenged. The Light wishes to know how committed you really are. The Great One has picked you specifically to take this mission, become close to your target, gain his trust, and then terminate him."

I swallow, not wanting to ask my next question. "And who is my target?"

He scoffs. "My old apprentice. Richard Grayson."

My face remains calm, showing no emotion. "Yes daddy." I nod once, stand to take my plate to the sink, and return to my room to prepare for my next mission, imagining how I am going to kill the one person whom I sacrificed everything to save.