Thank you everyone who reviewed. Eleven reviews in the first chapter is awesome, so thanks.

Fudotwin17 is going to holding me to writing this story. I promished to update and as of right now, I solemly swear I will finish the story even if my creative juices abandon me, it will be finished and finshed to the bestof my ability. So, you guys gotta hold me to this. Just don't pressure me, now that you know I'll continue you can always expect and update. Now, on with the story!


Chapter 1:


Project Paradox:

Subject File: R00012J

Real name: Richard John 'Dick' Grayson

Alias: Robin ( Former protégé of Batman)

Age: 13 (Former)

Birthday: 3/21/98

Birth parents: Mary Joanna Grayson, John Henry Grayson

Notes: Orphaned at age 9, taken in by Bruce Wayne (a.k.a Batman), acrobat, messes with the english language; often called 'slaughtering it', refuses to be called side-kick, mathlete, the last Flying Grayson.

Profile:

Eye Color: Bright blue, almost azure-icy blue, cerulean

Hair Color: Ebony, black- onyx color

Skin: Pale, used to be tan

Height: 5'2

Weight: 105.7

Needed for: Project Paradox

Project #: P8-12

Project Paradox: Perfect weapon

Apprehended: 5/9/12

Room #: Sub-level B-16, Room # 267

Regular meals, showers and tests.


The boy's eyes flew open.

The white painted cement ceiling greeted him as always. Just as he'd always known. He sat up and looked around, throwing the blankets off of him. More white painted cement. His steel framed bed was nailed into the floor, the white sheets and grey wool blanket were thrown to the side as he stepped over, placing his bare feet on the floor. He shivered as the floor's coldness ran up his legs and stood up, feeling a bit wary as he walked over to the door; waiting for the small slot in the bottom to give him food as always.

He didn't know what time it was, but it always appeared soon after he woke up. He sighed, staring at it; just simply waiting. It had never taken this long before. He looked down at his bandaged arms and the white scars that littered his arms, legs and face. He didn't know where he got them but the whitecoats told him he'd always been like that. The white scars from as long as he could remember stood out against his red-pink tinted skin. He didn't know where that came from either, but the whitecoats always shrugged it off; saying it would be gone soon.

They said that a few days ago.

Or, at least, he assumed it as a few days ago. He didn't know time here, time simply didn't exist here. It was irrelevant. You went to bed when the whitecoats told you, you ate when the whitecoats fed you, you did exactly as they said; or else you would go to the room at the end of that hall and never come back out. He'd seen it happen before. Another kid, much taller than him, had began a fight and was captured; being taken to the room. He never came out. The whitecoat did. But the boy wasn't scared, he was small; smaller than the others kids, but he seemed to have more bravery then them.

As far as the boy was concerned, he'd been here since forever. It was all he could remember. White cement, whitecoats, white clothing, tests in white rooms and no light. He'd never seen the sun, felt it's warmth against his skin, seen it shine in all it's glory. He'd asked the whitecoats this but they said he didn't need to, not yet at least. He could wait for that 'not yet' to be gone. He really wanted to see it. He knew what the sun was, what the moon was, what grass and trees were, what the sky was. He'd never seen it, never even felt it. Well, minus the grass. He would be taken a big chamber where grass grew. He would have to run, jump, do flips and practice all different types of things. Sometimes he ached, but he still had to practice. He didn't know what for, he was never told anything.

Sometimes he would be hurt if he slowed down for a rest. Sometimes he was praised with being allowed to walk the halls with an escort if he did well. But, even after walking around he figured it was useless. Everything was white, the steel grey doors seemed to blend in with the walls. Everything blending together. He didn't like it. He stood out, with his red-pink skin and white scars. He felt uncomfortable. Weird, odd, out of place.

Suddenly the slot opened and a plate with eggs and toast slid through and the slot closed again. He smiled to himself and scrambled over, grabbing the fork and sticking it in the scrambled eggs. They were gone within a matter of seconds and the toast a few seconds later. He sighed and then slipped the plate back toward the slot. It opened again and a hook came through, wrapping around the plate and pulling it back out again. The same thing every time.

The boy stood up now and looked over to his bed. He walked over and began to make it. He needed to looked presentable for the main whitecoat; Dr. Hinders. The man would come in and inspect the room. If food was on the ground, the boy would have to clean it, if the bed was not made he would have to make it over ten times, if his clothes were wrinkled he would have to do everything plus fold all the other clothing. His clothes were white shorts and t-shirt. They weren't baggy but weren't to tight. The were comfortable however. He stood by his bed and waited; hands behind his back and staring straight ahead. His blue eyes, cerculean, never wavered.

The door gave a hiss and slid open, the whitecoat walking in. He had brown tinning hair and a wispy mustache, he had on brown grey slacks and a white dress shirt under his white lab coat. A clip-board was under his arm and he stared down sternly at the boy.

"R00012J. Very good, I'm impressed. Keep this up and perhaps you can walk the halls with Dr. Barnes."

The boy, R00012J as he was called, stared straight ahead. He was not permitted to speak unless directly spoken to. He couldn't ask questions either, he was punished if he did. He had made that mistake one time and was forced to a horrible 'test' of pain. He never made that mistake again. Dr. Hinders chuckled and walked around, looking everything over.

"You seem presentable. No food on the ground, bed made perfectly. Very, very nice. R0, you may speak," he said, walking back in front of R0, his nickname, and smiling nicely. R0 knew it was simply a fake smile to reassure him of nothing but lies but he did trust this whitecoat, most of the others were horrible to him. R0 nodded, staring straight ahead.

"Thank you, sir. I tried my best, sir," he said, his voice small but strong. Dr. Hinders nodded and smiled down at him, ruffling the boys ebony hair. He had actually come to care for the boy, not that he would admit it. Not to much as loving him, he still lied to him, hurt him with pleasure. He even felt guilty, though it was small in quanity, when they put him through the pain processes. Project Paradox needed a good subject and this boy as the perfect one. The Dr. knew that this boy would grow up to be strong, strong than the bat. No, they were not giving him superpowers; it would kill him and they couldn't risk losing another subject. They were training him to his peek; his mind, his skills, his smarts. He could already calculate math problems that had stumped men before him for years in a matter of minutes, he could defeat Superman if he had to; not yet, however. When he was older he could do it without Kryptonite. He would be perfect, unable to figure out. He would be a paradox.

They needed to give him pain, however. To train him for what was to come. He had to experience the worst things one could possible imagine. The would stick him in a tank of water and see how long he could hold his breath. He began to drown most of the time, but they fetched him from it. The would electrify him until he was half dead. They out poke and prod him until he was bleeding out.

He needed it. It was for a good cause.

"I can see that R0. Yes, well. We need you today, another test. Ready?" The Dr. said, checking something off his clipboard without looking down.

"Yes sir. Are my scars going to be taken away?"

The Dr. looked up and nodded and he could see surprise and happiness in the boys eyes. He knew R0 didn't like the scars and the Dr. knew he felt out of place with them. The Dr. would chuckle to himself whenever he thought this. It was odd of the boy to feel out of place. This was where he'd thought he'd always lived. Yes, thought he'd always lived. That wasn't true, he had been taken, changed; his mind altered. But, either way, one should not feel out of place at ones home. That wasn't how it worked.

"Come on. Follow me."


"Robin has been missing for five months!" Kid Flash exclaimed, glaring at Batman; who stood stoically in front of him. If anything, the Kid Flash looked livid and Batman looked simply bored. This was the fifteenth time that the speedster had pointed this out in the month. The eighty-eighth time since Robin disappeared. He really didn't need a reminder.

"This has been acknowledged, Kid Flash," Batman replied, glaring down at him with a Bat-glare. Of course this had been acknowledged. His protégé, his ward, his son was gone and with no lead. There had been nothing when the bomb had exploded; and it hadn't even been an 'exploding' bomb. It had Zeta-beam technology and when it went 'boom' it had taken any living thing within ten to fifteen feet. And of course Robin, who had been trying to disable it, was caught in the crossfire. He was just gone. Nothing was left except a mask. So, whoever had him... knew of his identity.

The bomb had ripped the building apart (the second time the Cadmus building had been downed) but since the team had gotten everyone out, it didn't matter. The 'bomb' was destroyed so Batman couldn't inspect it. Even the remains were to crushed and mangled to even tell what one piece from another was.

"Then why don't you do something about it!" The red-head yelled, throwing his arms up in the air, exasperated. Batman's glare hardened and Kid Flash shifted uncomfortably. He had been doing something about. He was desperate to find his boy. He had asked Mary and John for forgiveness every night for this. Yes, he blamed himself for this. If he had never let Dick become Robin; then this wouldn't have happened. Of course, Dick would always come up with a counter-argument when he brought this up. He knew that now, Dick could never give up being Robin; just as he could never give up being Batman. They were one in the same.

"I have been doing something about it," he growled, turning away from the young boy. The team and Black Canary were watching with interest. KF and Batman had had this… conversation before. But it never lasted more than a minute. They all missed Robin, especially the league founders; who had known the boy since he had first become Robin. Wonder Woman was worried sick for her 'little boy' and often snapped at people. Batman was as silent and brooding as ever, perhaps even a bit more, and Superman was a bit more… displeased. The others tried to act normal, or as normal as they could.

"Really?" Kid Flash yelled, crossing his arms over his chest, "because it doesn't seem like it. Robin isn't here! Do you even care?"

Everyone froze and Kid Flash seemed to realize what he just said. His anger faded as the Dark Knight turned around, anger flowing from him like waves.

"I… I didn't mean-"

"Care? Do I care?" Batman growled and Kid Flash took a step back, fear rolling into his green eyes. "Of course I care! I'm worried sick! He is my son! I've been doing everything in my power! Don't you dare say I don't care!" The man turned on his heels and stalked away, his cape following behind him with a swoosh. Everyone stared after him and shock and surprise, even Canary was surprised.

The team had always thought that Batman was an uncle or a friend of Robin's parents or maybe he didn't know or have any connection to Robin at all, maybe his parents were crazy. They didn't know he was his…. his son. Batman said he was worried sick. They…. they felt bad instantly. They had thought Batman had merely shrugged it off or didn't care enough to look as hard as he could. But, if Batman couldn't find him… was there any hope left for the boy?


Dr. Hinders strapped the six year old to the medical table. The restraints were made of steel and were laced with kryptonite (for special reasons). R0 stared up at the ceiling in front of him, his blue eyes never wavering in thought. You could almost see straight into his soul… but yet not. As if they were clouded. He could never see what the boy was thinking.

Even so, the Dr. felt no guilt on strapping him to the white, sleek table. The white scars and red-pink tinted skin from burns were going to be gone for good. R0 would fit in now, even if he had never met anyone else but the whitecoats and a few other subjects. The boy waited patiently as the whitecoats prepared for it. He didn't like it most of the time, he felt odd; like he should fight back. But if he did he would get into trouble, R0 didn't want that.

Suddenly, the steel door flew open and a another whitecoat- female -walked in with a two more behind her. "We're taking over Project Paradox. Orders from Hemingsway," she stated, one hand on her hip and another tightly gripping her clipboard. She had black hair and eyes and her black skirt was tight against her skin. She wore black pointed shoes and a grey nice shirt under her white lab coat. Her nails were painted cherry red and her lips were the same color as well. Over all, she looked like a super-model gone smart.

Dr. Hinders narrowed his eyes.

"Prove it. Give identification please. And under whose orders? Hemingsway? He has no rule over Project Paradox," the man stated, stepping forward angrily. R0 watched with suspicious eyes. New whitecoats? He already didn't like these ones, he despised them and this group didn't seem to be any better. Probably even worse, he didn't want that. It would make things harder, he would probably be hurt more.

The lady handed him a slip of paper, a light smirk playing on her lips as she watched him read it, eyes widening. "Dr. Anders at your service, Jack. Hemingsway was moved up in the line. He has every right to replace you. He feels that this is weak… Project Paradox isn't going as planned. You're two months behind schedule and it seems you've developed feelings for the boy?" She pouted and shook her finger, finding this unacceptable.

"That isn't permitted. Take him away. Project Paradox is about to get going… for real."


R0 tried to ignore the pain as they coursed through his arms.

The electricity was killing him, the hurt was bad. The pain.

Oh the pain!

Every time he went back to sleep he felt as if he had been burned alive. But when he woke in the morning, however, he was fine. There were no burn marks on his skin, no bleeding from cuts he got- no white scratches. It was as if he had taken a bath that washed away all the dirt.

Dr. Anders was horrible. She was ruthless with the tests. He never got a chance, soon he became afraid; and soon that's all he could remember. Dr. Anders was all he ever knew. Dr. Hinders had been erased from his mind, the man's experiments had been mild compared to the things that Anders made him do. Electrocuted, drowned, cut, bruised, he had even fallen into a coma one time and successfully come out of it with little to no damage done to his brain. While in the comatose state, they had electrocuted him then too.

He had barely made it out.

Right now, as his vision became blurry and his body began to feel numb he was used to it. He was actually used to the pain. He still screamed in agony, in pain, in hurt. But it wasn't as bad as before. Even so, he was used to it.

Suddenly, the numb and pain faded and the ringing in his ears was gone. He heard Dr. Anders yelling at someone and she suddenly appear in front of him, scowling with displeasure. She waved her hand in front of his eyes, which stared straight ahead. He resisted, however, to whimper. She often hit him.

"Can you see me R00012J?" The Dr. asked, she refused to call him by his 'pet-name' as she called it, R0.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, his voice raspy from the pain he just experienced.

"Louder, R00012J," She demanded, her hand and face disappearing from his view. He blinked back tears from his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. He tried again and managed, "Yes."

"Ma'am, R00012J."

"Yes, Ma'am…" he continued before almost falling over in a fit of coughs. But he couldn't breath. He was restrained to the bed, and he couldnt lift his chest up to breath correctly; he was slowly suffocating. They would adjust the bed so it would stop, one time they forgot. He had been dead for two minutes. But his restraints were there for a reason. They had to be or else he would writhe in pain or try to run. He'd almost made it to the door a few times, but they sedated him.

"Ready? Last time, R00012J."

"Ready," he croaked, tears now falling freely.


Review please.

Did I do well?

Notice anything different about Robin. I called him the boy... notice anything about his file. Read it over and perhaps you can figure out what it is. This is sure to have a twist, I can confirm that. Don't most of my stories?

Dedicated to: Fudotwin17