AN: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient! I didn't have access to my computer for almost two weeks, which had all my material for this story. I've worked on this part of the story for a long time, so I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to all who followed and favorited this story! I also love reading your comments! Thank you for your support! Now, ON WITH THE CHAPTER!
Disclaimer: You know what I don't own.
Standing in the office before him was a man he feared and hated, one who had taken him, and twisted him until he was a shell of his former self. In the office before him, was Deathstroke the Terminator.
"So, my apprentice. Shall we discuss how your mission is progressing?"
Dick did not reply. He stood in front of Deathstroke, trying to keep his body from trembling. He watched as the assassin took a step towards him. "Why do you still have your weapons drawn? There are obviously no threats nearby," Slade stated, emotionless, crossing his arms over his chest.
Dick quickly sheathed the blades, and stood at attention, his chest rising and falling minutely, disguising his racing heart.
"So, as I said before, do you have anything to report?"
'He knows I failed,' Dick thought to himself. 'He knows that I hesitated, and retreated when I should have fought to the death.' Warily, he peered at his "master," waiting for any sign of attack. 'He's waiting for me to confess to my failures. I won't tell him what he already knows.' He remained silent, staring at a spot on the wall somewhere behind Deathstroke. There was silence throughout the room for a few moments. Then, Deathstroke let out a low chuckle, sending chills up Dick's spine.
"I'm guessing your silence is your way of saying that you have nothing to report? I'm surprised; from your video feed, I would say that you are making great progress in the elimination of the Bats." Deathstroke scowled as he glared at Dick, his fists clenched at his sides.
Dick opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off. In a split second, Deathstroke had shot forward, punching Dick across the jaw. The younger man recoiled, tasting the blood in his mouth. Then, he felt a large and powerful hand reach towards him, latching onto his hair. Inhaling deeply, he stifled any cries of pain as his head was wrenched back, his hands instinctively grabbing onto his assailant's wrist.
'Don't scream, don't scream. Remember what happened last time,' he reminded himself as he looked at Deathstroke out of the corner of his eye. He swallowed, the coppery taste of blood filling his mouth as his bitten tongue leaked more blood.
"You stupid boy," Deathstroke growled, bringing the man's ear close to his mouth. "They left you. For fourteen months, they never came for you. Not one time did the Big Bad Bat come to save you."
Dick struggled slightly, trying to pry Slade's hand from his hair. But a quick tug on his scalp ceased all movement. "Do not disobey me again." Slade flung Dick to the ground, the man painfully hitting the ground. "If you do," Deathstroke growled, looming over Dick, "this will be the least of your problems."
'What-' With deadly speed and accuracy, Slade brought down one of his knives into Dick's chest, directly below his collar bone. Dick, unable to hold back his screams, yelled in the empty warehouse, body arching in pain. He reached towards the hilt of the knife, hands shaking as he struggled to grasp the hilt. Slade knocked his hand away, and twisted the hilt, further driving the knife into the man's chest. As Dick cried out once again, Slade knelt down on one knee next to Dick. "You are lucky that I am letting you live."
Dick gasped as another wave of pain passed through him. He bit his lip to stifle any more noise. "Tonight, you will go back into the city, and kill the Bat and his brats. You will not return until you have done so. If you return without their heads, yours will be removed."
The words sounded muffled in Dick's ears, but he was able to hear the threat behind Deathstroke's words. "You have three days, Renegade. Then I come after you all." With a small grunt, and a low sucking sound, Deathstroke removed the blade from Dick's chest. The wound began to leak red, Dick's black uniform hiding the color. Dick gritted his teeth as he breathed deeply, painfully clenching his jaw shut. He withheld any sounds of discomfort, instead focusing on evening out his breaths. There was the sound of receding footsteps, followed by the loud CLANG of a door being slammed. Dick lay on the cold ground, trying not to pass out as his chest bled.
'Alright. Up, up, up. Get up, you weakling.' Holding a hand over his injury, he rose unsteadily, and stumbled towards one of the back rooms of the warehouse. 'I need to continue to breathe. Freaking out isn't going to help me.' Focusing on the wall ahead of him, Dick moved towards the first aid kit. Each step was like walking through cement. It seemed like he was getting nowhere.
He sighed in relief when he finally reached the small white box. He unclasped the hinge, and withdrew a needle and thread. Raising the needle, he shakily guided the end of the thread into the eye of the needle. It took a few attempts, on account of his shaky hands. Mentally swearing, he continued to struggle to thread the needle. A miniscule smile crossed his lips when he finally guided the thread through the eye.
Wordlessly, he placed the tip of the needle on the edge of the knife wound. Sucking in a large breath, he pierced the skin, pulling the metal, along with the thread through his tissue. He let out a small groan, trying to breathe though the pain. 'C'mon, it's not like you haven't been sewn up before. Suck it up.'
He continued to sew, ignoring the throbs in his chest. The wound leaked small droplets of blood, which left trails on his suit. The droplets disappeared as the suit absorbed the blood. Finally tying off the thread, he placed the black thread between his teeth. Biting down hard, he pulled, breaking the thread. Running his fingers over the stitches, he nodded to himself, satisfied with his work. 'It'll do. If I don't kill Batman, he'll be back, and I'll be the one who dies.'
Dick placed his palms over his face, and rubbed his face. 'Well, Batman will be out tonight, looking for me.' A small flicker passed through his heart. Dick blanched for a second, but quickly pushed it away. 'I'll find him, or die trying.'
Damian Wayne slowly blinked his eyes open, sunlight streaming in his face. 'It's too early for this. Why did Pennyworth leave the damn blinds open?' Groaning, he rolled onto his side, using his back as a shield from the dreadful light. As he stretched, he could feel the cool sheets under his fingertips, soothing his warm body. He sighed, and tried to succumb to unconsciousness once again. He gladly accepted the dark tendrils of sleep as they approached the edges of his mind. Unfortunately, more sleep was not in the cards for young Damian.
The door clicked open, followed by a pair of silent footsteps. Damian growled loudly, angrily opening one eye to glare at the unwelcome guest. "What do you want, Drake?"
Tim stood in the doorway, looking at the youngest Wayne. "Bruce wanted me to check on you to see if you were still alive, or hadn't snuck off anywhere."
"Of course I would be alive. I am in perfect health, my body and mind in peak physical condition."
Tim rolled his eyes. "Uh-huh. Well, it's almost four-thirty in the afternoon, so obviously, something was off."
"That's what you think, Drake," Damian growled. 'Almost four-thirty? I was asleep longer than intended.' Damian mentally shuddered as his memory began to take hold. 'After the event at the garage earlier this morning, Father had us all running around, trying to see where Grayson went.' A small jolt of grief passed through his heart as his visualized his oldest brother, and how broken he looked. Angrily, he shoved the thought away. 'I must have nodded off after sitting down back in the Cave. It is understandable of course, since I have not gotten any sleep in the past four days. Criminals in Gotham don't know when to give it a rest.'
"Well, come down to the Cave whenever you're ready. Bruce wants to see you." Tim began to back out of the room.
"Drake," Damian said, sitting upright in his bed.
"Yeah?" Tim replied, gazing at Damian.
There was a moment of silence. Then: "Will Grayson be alright?"
"..." Tim was at a loss for words. Seeing Dick at the garage earlier that morning had shocked him to his core. His older brother was a shell of his former self, replaced with something wounded and broken. He knew that Bruce, Jason, and everyone in the family would do everything they could to rescue Dick; but, there was a small part of him, hidden deep within his soul, that was somewhat skeptical over whether Dick could be saved or not.
Looking at his oldest brother, Tim saw fourteen months of pain and suffering. The way Dick held himself, the way he moved, even the way he did not speak; it all was a sign of all Dick had experienced. Dick always had something to say, like a joke or reassuring advice. This silent man, who wore black and orange had replaced the lively black and blue hero that was Dick Grayson.
"I honestly don't know, Damian," Tim finally replied, sadness filling his blue eyes. "All I know is that we can bring Dick home, and do our best to help him."
"Hmm," Damian replied, his lips forming a tight line across his face. There was a moment of silence in the room. "Where's Todd?" the young boy asked, glancing at the door behind Tim.
"He's in the living room, stewing. Alfred finally put his foot down, and placed Jason under house arrest after Dick stabbed him."
A small smirk crossed Damian's lips. "Tt. Poor Todd, he hates being left behind." Throwing the covers from his legs, he clambered out of bed, and strode in front of Tim. "Tell Father that I will be downstairs within ten minutes." At that, he turned on his heel, and strutted to the bathroom. Tim huffed in annoyance, and began to leave. 'Little arrogant prick.'
Tim shut the door behind him, striding into the silent hallway. Trying to distract himself from the bleak thoughts that threatened to consume him, he recited calculus equations in his head, allowing the numbers to flow, soothing his troubled mind. He made his way down towards the Cave, already halfway through his first equation.
Quickly descending the many steps, he stopped behind Bruce, who was sitting in front of the giant computer, watching the film from the garage on repeat. "Damian?" the older man grumbled, not turning in his chair to face Tim.
"Dee will be down in about ten minutes," Tim replied, crossing his arms over his chest He leaned against the side of Bruce's massive chair, eyes flitting across the screen."Find anything new?"
Bruce sighed, and rubbed his face. "No. The feed is useless."
Tim hummed in agreement, absorbed in the screen. Only the sound of whirring fans filled the cave. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, both men could hear a pair of footsteps coming down the steps.
"Shut up, Damian."
Tim internally groaned. He knew that voice anywhere. Turning around, he could see both Damian and Jason making their way towards them. Jason was glaring at Damian, his hand subconsciously resting over his side. Watching the two brothers, Tim deduced that Damian had decided to push Jason's buttons, and rile him up about being benched by Alfred. It was rather unfair, but they all had suffered under the hand of a fed-up butler. Tim's mind traveled back to when the men arrived back at the Cave. 'Alfred was pissed,' he thought to himself.
"You were lucky to escape with your life," Alfred said, tying off the stitch in Jason's side. The young man snorted, choosing not to reply as he sat on the table, flinching as small pricks of pain flickered in his side. As soon as he finished patching Jason up, Alfred pointed towards the stairs. "Everyone, change into your regular clothes, and go upstairs. You are going to shower, and sleep for at least four hours. NO exceptions," he stated, giving Tim and Jason the hairy eyeball as they began to complain. "You too, Master Bruce," the butler said, sending his gaze over to Bruce.
Damian had passed out while watching Jason receive his stitches, his chest rising and falling. Bruce walked over towards Damian. Picking him up bridal style, he carried his biological son upstairs to his room. Tim walked over towards the changing room, and numbly stripped out of his suit. Pulling on a t-shirt and jeans, he stumbled out of the cave and up the stairs. He barely made it into bed before the emotions that he had kept bottled up came exploding out of him. He silently slid to the floor at the foot of his bed, body racking with sobs. Fear, sadness, all came pouring out of him; all the while, he was completely silent.
Once he had no more tears, he threw his clothes into the hamper, and stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to beat on his skin, and erase any evidence of his breakdown. Feeling refreshed, he changed, and climbed onto his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the mattress. He woke about two hours later, and left his room, heading straight to the Cave. From there, he was sent by Bruce to fetch Damian.
Now, back in the cave, Jason and Damian ignored Bruce and Tim, too focused on their heated argument. Their voices grew louder, until they were almost screaming at each other. "Enough." Bruce's voice cut through the shouts like a knife, silencing everyone. Jason opened his mouth to speak, but quickly snapped it shut when Bruce sent a one-eyed glare towards him. Damian, a smug smirk adorning his lips, sauntered over to his father. "What do you need us for, Father?"
Turning fully in his chair, Bruce rose, Tim standing beside him. Damian and Jason stood a few feet away, watching his every move. "We are going after Dick. Tonight," Bruce said, his voice holding a tone of finality.
"Finally. I thought we were never going to take any action," Jason scoffed, grimacing slightly as his breath aggravated his wound. Bruce glared at Jason, but made no comment. "We leave like normal, and continue as if nothing is wrong. When Dick shows himself-and he will- follow, but do not engage. Pursue only, and contact all of us immediately. That way, we can corner him and try to bring him home."
The three boys nodded. Tim's analytical mind was already racing, plans A through Z stacking up like cards. "What about me? Am I just supposed to stay at home, and twiddle my thumbs, hoping the Bat and his Robins bring home Goldie?" came Jason's sarcastic voice.
"No," Bruce replied, locking eyes with his son. "You will be running surveillance, watching the cameras, making sure that we aren't caught by surprise."
"Oh that's great. I guess my great computer skills made me perfect for the job," he scowled, his white forelock falling in front of his forehead.
"You won't be alone," Bruce stated, looking over Jason's shoulder.
"What, with Alfred? Oh yeah, Bruce, I know that I'm not alone. But who's gonna-" Jason suddenly whipped around, his eyes wide.
"What's up, boys? Long time no see," Barbara Gordon said as she made her way down the stairs. The red-head had her hair pulled into a high ponytail, the red locks swinging as she descended. A pair of black glasses rested on her nose, almost giving her a librarian look. She wore a green hoodie and a pair of worn jeans, with black sneakers. From the way her clothes looked disheveled, she obviously had been in a hurry. Alfred, the ever-faithful butler, was trailing behind her.
"Thanks, Al," she said, smiling at the butler once they reached the bottom of the steps.
"Of course, Ms. Gordon. If you need anything, feel free to give a shout," Alfred replied.
The three boys stood, dumbstruck. Barbara stared at them. Tim noticed that she warily glanced at Jason, disguising her discomfort with a wry grin. "What? Do I have something on my face?" She turned, and looked at Damian first. "Wow, Damian. It's been almost six months, and you still don't know how to give a girl a proper welcome."
"Tt. At least I inform my associates when I am arriving," Damian retorted, shocked from his stupor.
"Well, it's kinda hard when you only have three hours notice. I'll try harder next time." She glanced over at Tim next, the smile softening. "Hey, Tim." She walked over, and gave the boy a fierce hug.
"Hi, Babs," Tim replied, returning the gesture. Stepping back, he could see that a sad smile had replaced her previous expression. "I can't believe you found him."
"Well," Tim said, rubbing the back of his head, "that was all Jason."
Barbara turned, finally looking at Jason. There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of Barbara's footsteps. The two stared at each other for a few moments. "Long time no see, Jay," she said quietly.
"Hey, Barb," Jason said, almost sheepishly. Barbara studied his face for a moment. Then, without warning, she slapped the back of his head. Hard. The sound echoed across the cave.
"OW! What the fuck was that for?!" Jason yelled, grabbing the back of his head.
"That was for being a douchebag! You come back from the dead, bring in Freeze, then disappear without a trace? That was a nice surprise. Then, your affinity for guns and violence made me a little tense. I didn't know if some mob boss got the best of you one day, and decided to gun you down. The least you could have done was called to say, 'Hey, Babs, I'm alive and well, don't worry about me. Oh, and I'm not a murdering psychopath, just in case you were wondering.'" Studying the man again, she turned away from him, and glared at all of the boys.
"I hate it when you pull that bullshit with me. Your high and mighty attitudes, 'Oh, Barbara doesn't need to know that we're all still alive and well. We're the fucking Bat family, and we're freaking invincible.'" At that, she scoffed loudly. "It pisses me off." Her heated glare halted on each of the men in the cave, and Tim shuddered when her eyes rested on him. He made a mental note never to get on Barbara Gordon's bad side.
Everyone else visibly recoiled, intimidated by the woman before them. Bruce, the first to regain his composure, cleared his throat. "We found Dick."
"Yes, I remember you mentioning that over the phone. What do you need me to do?" Barbara asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"We need you to run surveillance with Jason, and keep tabs on us and Dick."
"Why am I not going out in the field?" she asked, cocking her head.
"Because we need a good hacker, who doesn't leave any trace, and who can flawlessly enter the camera feeds all across Gotham," Bruce replied. Barbara looked skeptical, until Bruce played his final card. "You get to access all of my files and feeds on the Batcomputer. It's yours to command for a few hours."
There was a pause as Barbara weighed her options. She had never used the Batcomputer all by herself; when she was allowed access, it was under strict supervision from Bruce, and she didn't spend more than a few minutes on the giant computer. A grin settled across her face. "I'm in. When do we start?"
"Now," Bruce replied.
AN: And the story continues! I really hadn't thought about bringing Babs in, but she was kinda a spur of the moment addition. I have to say, she was really fun to write! Until next time!