I'm sorry, don't hurt me. I didn't mean to take this long to update :P There just this thing called finals...
But on the bright side, there's also a thing called summer that starts in just a couple weeks :D
Deathstroke opened the door, slipping inside silently in case his new spawn were to try and ambush him. He looked around when nothing came, finally spotting the boy still asleep on the mat. Renegade was curled up into a ball, his chest rising and falling peacefully.
"Get up. We're training today," Slade ordered, clenching his fists impatiently. Renegade started to stir slightly, but just curled up into a smaller ball.
"Five more minutes, Cheshire," He mumbled automatically. His eyes shot open when a foot collided with his body. He groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and starting to get up. "What the hell?"
"I said to get up. I need to see what, if anything, that girl taught you," Deathstroke said firmly. "In two minutes, I want you warmed up and ready to fight." He left the room, closing and locking the door behind him. He didn't want the kid to try anything.
Renegade worked on getting his brain to wake up, doing his normal stretching routine on the mat. As he did so, he looked around, seeing if there were any possible exits, but there weren't any windows, or even vents. It'd be hard for Cheshire to get in here, whenever she came for him. She would come, right?
He didn't want to be with Slade. Maybe things had changed since his memories of the man had occurred, but as it was, his brain was screaming warnings at him. The kick had added to those warnings as well. Slade came back in, eyeing the teenager.
Without any warning, Deathstroke reached out, flipping Renegade in an instant. It took a second for the shock to wear off, but Dick swung his foot out, hitting Slade's legs to get him off balance. He scrambled back to his feet, taking a fighting pose.
Deathstroke rushed at him with a punch, and Renegade flipped over him, landing on the other side with his back turned to Slade. The man took that opportunity to seize him by the shoulders, kicking the back of his knees to make him fall.
"That was unimpressive. I expected better of Batman's protege," Deathstroke placed his foot on Renegade's back, making it difficult for him to get back up. Dick gritted his teeth. He was not about to let him win that easily.
Dick rolled over with as much force as he could, getting out from under Slade's foot and scrambling to his feet. He went to kick Deathstroke in the chest, but his foot was caught, and Deathstroke threw him into one of the walls. Renegade gasped as the impact knocked the air out of him. He fell to his knees, coughing as he tried to get his breath back. Deathstroke was headed in his direction again, and despite the fact that he was still having trouble breathing, Renegade grabbed a knife from the rack next to him, and threw it at the man. Slade easily dodged it, quickly grabbing Dick's wrist and twisting it behind his back. He shoved the teenager forward, slamming him back into the wall.
"You still have determination. I remember how pesky that is," Slade grumbled, seeing that the boy was inadequate in fighting him. He walked to the door, leaving without another word.
Dick rubbed his arm, keeping an eye on the door cautiously. Why hadn't Cheshire gotten here yet? Maybe Slade left some sort of fake trail to throw her off, or she was arguing it out with the Light right now. Maybe he could just get himself out. However, based on the sparring match, he wasn't so sure. The door opened again, and Slade looked up at the teenager.
"Get down from there and put these on," He dropped a Slade uniform on the bench closest to him, and then left after glaring at Renegade. It took until then for Dick to realize that he'd subconsciously climbed up the equipment and was perching on one of the weapon racks.
He jumped down, his feet silently hitting the floor. He stepped closer to the new uniform, looking at it closely. It seemed to be made from some sort of Kevlar. That was a little old school. Renegade scanned the room for cameras, finding a place he assumed was private enough to change.
He soon found himself in front of a mirror, looking at his suit in the reflection. Why did it have to be so orange and black? It felt more like a dull Halloween costume. He shrugged, adjusting it a little and tightening the utility belt that he'd be given so it would stay in place. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as the gear he wore as Renegade. Even the Robin costume was more comfortable.
When Deathstroke returned once again, he grabbed Renegade's arm and dragged him out into the hallway. His grip was tight to ensure that he wouldn't try and escape as they walked to another room. Inside there were a few dozen robots, all painted in orange and black.
"What's this?" Renegade asked, looking at the small army. Slade hit a button on a remote control, causing the four robots closest to them to spring to life.
"Fight them," Deathstroke ordered, hitting another button on the remote. He didn't have the time to teach the kid lesson from scratch. Renegade narrowed his eyes, but took a fighting stance and waited for the robots to make the first move. They surrounded him in a circle, making it hard for him to keep an eye on all of them.
After a minute of nothing happening, Renegade remembered that Jade told him to always strike first because he was small and fast enough to get multiple hits in before the enemy could process them. However, he was surrounded by unfamiliar robots who could process everything instantaneously. His final decision was to make the first move, but he hesitated.
Renegade leaped towards the one in front of him, punching it in the head. The impact of the metal on his fist sent pain all the way up his arm. Right. Forgot to account for the fact that they're made of iron. He pulled back, rubbing his bad arm with his good arm for a quick second. In the short delay, they all sprang towards him.
Renegade quickly rolled out of the way as one of the robots reached for him. He used the momentum to get to his feet, but it only was for a brief second before he was knocked back down by a blow to the stomach. Dick coughed, kicking the robot closest to him and then flipping over it.
"This is pitiful," Slade taunted, sounding bored as Renegade did another evasion. "Attack them head on. Stop avoiding them like a coward."
"Every time I try that I get hit," Renegade huffed, glancing over at him. In his distraction he was punched again, getting knocked to the ground. Dick lurched to the left to get out of the way before he was stepped on.
"From now on, if you don't attack, they will learn from your evasions and take you down," Deathstroke hissed, hitting another button on the remote to change the settings. Renegade's eyes widened and he ducked his head to the right before one of them could hit him. However, that action caused him to fall right into the hands of another sladebot, as he was deciding to call them.
It grabbed him and swung him into the wall, leaving a dent in the concrete where he made impact. Dick collapsed to his knees, his hands on the ground to help steady him as the world span. A metal foot hit him in the side, causing him to fall over once again.
"Stop," Dick gasped, clutching his side in pain.
"What was that?" Deathstroke asked in contempt.
"I said stop. Just turn it off. Please." The robots all powered down, freezing in their current positions. Deathstroke marched over to the boy on the ground, his eyes narrowing fiercely. Dick tensed up immediately under the harsh glare, and it reminded him of Batman's glares when he messed around on patrol. Wait, how did he remember that?
"And what reason is there to do that? Are you giving up already?" Slade asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Yes! They're too strong. I can't beat them, and I'm only getting hurt," Dick groaned. Deathstroke's hand wrapped around Dick's arm, yanking him up to his feet. His vision shook from the sudden movement.
"Your enemies won't stop just because you ask nicely with a cherry on top," Slade mocked. He waited until it looked like Renegade was standing before letting go of him. "Get over it."
Deathstroke turned around, walking away from his new apprentice, "Come find me when you've figured out how to beat them." He powered the robots back up, leaving before Renegade had time to follow.
Deathstroke walked back into the haunt three hours later, sitting down at the computer to check the camera feeds. The man growled when he saw that all four robots were still standing, and that Renegade wasn't anywhere on camera. The door was locked from the outside, so there's no way that the brat could have gotten out. Slade stormed down the hall, jabbing in the code to open the door, glaring at everything inside. His eyes skimmed the room, looking for any signs of the boy.
He finally heard a faint noise above him, and looked up. Renegade was perched in the rafters of the tall room, out of the reach of the robots. Dick's eyes widened, his face turning red at being caught hiding.
"Get down from there," Slade hissed. "Now!" He ordered when the boy didn't budge. Dick frowned, reluctantly dropping from his perch and landing lightly on the ground in front of Slade.
"Just what do you think you were doing up there?" Deathstroke growled, leaning closer to Renegade. Dick took a subconscious step back.
"Well... Uh, I thought I saw a soft spot in the armor, but I got hit in the chest and I think it may have broken a rib, so I jumped up to catch a break," He looked at the ground, feeling small as Slade's eye looked him over. He wasn't actually sure what a broken rib felt like, as he certainly didn't remember an injury of that type, but he had been winded and his chest hurt.
"Hey!" Dick yelped as Slade's fist collided with his chest. Deathstroke dug his fingertips into Renegade's ribcage.
"You don't have any broken ribs," Deathstroke said in annoyance. He took a step back. "Now get back to fighting the robots."
"I can't beat them," Dick groaned, glancing over his shoulder at said machines. All he'd done for the hour after Slade left was get his butt handed to him. Not to mention that he'd mentally punished himself for not thinking about the rafters sooner.
"You can, and you will. Should I give you another three hours?" Slade asked.
"No!" Dick cried, watching the robots power back on. "You are not leaving me in here again."
"Watch me."
Renegade growled, turning away in frustration to face the robots. If he just beat one, maybe he could get out of here. As one swung at him, he jumped over it and angrily punched it in the back of the head, where he assumed the processor for the robot was. His eyes widened as his fist actually penetrated the head of the robot. He could see the electricity as he pushed off of its back and landed a few feet away.
"There! I took one out. Can we go now?" Renegade asked, glaring fiercely at Deathstroke. The man looked at the robot that was now lying on the ground, and then back to Renegade. Begrudgingly, he opened the door, stepping aside to let Dick walk past him into the hallway. Renegade started walking back towards the training room, assuming that he'd end up locked in there again if he tried to run anyway.
"Can I get some food?" Dick asked, his stomach growling. He just now realized that he hadn't eaten in over 24 hours. Slade paused for a moment as he opened the door to the training room.
"I'll drop some off eventually," He said and pushed Renegade in before locking the door. Dick sighed, rubbing his chest lightly and flopping down on one of the cushiony mats. It took him a couple minutes to find a position where he wasn't lying on any of the newly formed bruises. He was absolutely exhausted from fighting the robots. Who knew hunks of metal could hit so hard?
Cheshire had never pushed him that hard. If he was struggling, she would let him take a break, and make things easier. As Renegade got better, Cheshire would make it more challenging. It was a good method-one that Renegade worked well with. He also needed to look for any possible ways out, but his stomach was empty as well. Renegade settled on a five minute break before he would get to work. As soon as he set his head down though, he was out like a light.
As Deathstroke walked away from the room, he smirked under his mask. The boy was angry. And the angrier people get, the easier they are to break.
Yay! Okay, well, I really have nothing to say for an author's note, so until the next update, just sit here and wonder what is going to happen next. No one knows. Not even me.
Okay, fine. I know. I'll quit rambling now. Favorite, Review, and Follow please! Speaking of which, I've started trying to keep up with responding to reviews. Do you guys want me to keep doing that?