A/N: Ahh, yes, I finally wrote chapter 40...and I still have about three or four chapters to go but I am making progress and I am still significantly ahead so I won't start freaking out about that yet. Thankfully I go home on the fifteenth and then I'm off for like a month and a half so I'll have plenty of time to write when I'm not working or going to MMA. But I am so excited to finish this story and start the next one! I have so many ideas and I'm just hoping at this point that they all come together and make sense. I don't know how long it will be or where it will go...or even how it will end...but I have plans, which is always a good place to start. My writing process is generally really scattered so new chapters pop up out of nowhere more often than not.

Anyway enough of my mumbling. Here's the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Enjoy!

Chapter: 34

Darren couldn't sleep. The various noises of the night cut in through his ears like a knife, all varying pitches and degrees of noise that irritated him to no end. It was often like that, when a room was completely silent, if a noise cut through that silence you immediately focused on only that. It was worse when one was trying to sleep. There was little he could do. The headphones only muffled the noise and playing music would only keep him up even more…besides they were too bulky to wear comfortably to sleep and they were all the way downstairs. He turned onto his side once more, glancing at the empty chair where Dick had sat in just moments ago. Bruce had called him down to talk about something, Darren hadn't been very interested in the request, he'd been trying to do an English assignment. Sometimes he just couldn't do the work, he couldn't focus, but he was trying. He needed to pass this year of school, he didn't want to have to repeat the whole year so while perhaps it wasn't his best work, he was getting it done. Slowly and surely it was getting done.

The sound of door hinges squeaking pierced his ears and he winced, letting out a hiss and clamping his hands over his ears. Maybe some food would help him sleep…he didn't eat much of his dinner…so no one would protest him eating something. Though he hadn't actually gone downstairs himself since coming back from Alaska. He clenched his teeth at that thought and forced himself to think of anything but Ra's Al Ghul and his father. There had been no word or sign from either of them and Bruce had been quiet about what he and the Demon's Head discussed on his, Damian's and Jason's raid of the Fortress. Although to be perfectly honest, Darren didn't ask. He was perfectly content being completely unaware on what had happened and what had been said. He didn't want to think of it or remember anything that had happened—except either way, he did. And he avoided all thoughts or memories relating to that time, though they crept up on him at unsuspecting times.

Darren stood and started for the door, wary of how his head spun slightly at the action. He remembered earlier on, when they forgot about his fast metabolism when he was recovering from his time with the Court after his death, how easily he got dizzy and couldn't make it down the stairs from lack of food. This was similar to then, and no one was there. They were all out and about, getting homework done, hanging out with friends or eating dinner waiting for patrol to roll around. But still Darren started for the stairs, despite how weak and dizzy and pathetic he felt. He needed to eat more, he needed to get better…he needed to do something and this, for now, was it.

There hadn't been much improvement since his hearing came back…he was healing at the same rate, his eyes were still a brilliant gold and he wasn't eating as much as he should…he was trying…he really was but something was holding him back, something still had a hold on him. And he didn't know what it was…or he was avoiding it, ignoring the memory of it or the emotions associated with it. Tim thought it was psychological and he was probably right. But Darren, yet again, pushed those thoughts away as he reached the landing still on shaky legs. He beelined for the kitchen, the rumbling in his stomach growing louder at the prospect of food. He needed it, his body knew he needed food…he wanted it but something kept him from consuming what he required on a regular basis.

He made it to the island countertop in the kitchen, his palms laid flat against the cold smooth marbled top. Darren almost wanted to rest his forehead against it, as if the coldness of the countertop could ebb the pounding headache from the noise bombarding him. He leaned forward, ready to do as such when he froze. A sound had echoed loudly in his ears and he zeroed in on it: it was his name. He stood up straight, statue still and listened intently his hunger forgotten,

"—you heard what I said didn't you?" It was Bruce by the sound of it…from his office,

"I heard but I'm not inclined to trust Ra's al Ghul," it was Dick, and he sounded irritated,

"He killed forty people, you've seen the security footage," Darren inhaled silently but sharply…they were talking about him. This had been the information Bruce had collected from his mission to the fortress. It hadn't been about stopping Ra's and assessing the situation…it had been about him. About what he had done…and probably the other stuff too, but there had been a hidden agenda nonetheless. One they would never tell Darren about…information Ra's gave them on his actions when cornered and coerced into a fight.

And there it was loud, clear and out in the open…what he was afraid of, the unspoken thing he was so anxious about…too frightened and worried over to eat. That fear, so deep in the pit of his stomach that made him sick to his stomach at the mere thought of it: what they would do once they realized Darren had killed again. What would they think and do once they realized he hadn't thought and gave into his instinct—something that was so easy, and something he said he wouldn't do anymore. He told them he'd control himself and that he wouldn't be the monster the Court raised him to be, what they wanted him to be. But he had become just that, and now they knew, now they were discussing it,

"He killed forty assassins," Dick growled, "It was different for him. They weren't innocent victims," Darren almost relaxed, Dick knew him—he understood him. But this was Bruce's home and Bruce's protection…it was him that Darren was frightened of the most,

"That doesn't change anything. He murdered people, how long until he slips up and kills forty civilians!" Bruce growled, Darren stiffened, curling his fingertips on the countertop under his palms…welcoming the pressure and slight pain from the weight he pressed onto them, it proved this was real and not another nightmare. He shouldn't keep listening, but he couldn't stop either,

"He knows the difference," Dick insisted, "Perhaps he's slipped up but given the circumstances—,"

"—Does he understand the difference? There has already been a few near slip-ups, and with everything that has happened with him how long until he forgets that difference altogether? He isn't stable. He lost all control there and we cannot have a wildcard while working alongside the Police,"

"What are you saying?" Dick hissed, "Because if this were Damian you'd be giving him a stern talking-to and a free pass. You're only doing this because he's not your own blood…you're only doing this because it's easier than comparing him to your own son!" Darren bit his lip…he didn't like where this was going,

"Damian practices restraint, he understands that his position is a privilege…and he hasn't committed mass murder. Perhaps he has shown his dislike for keeping to such a set of morals but he still abides by them. Darren hasn't shown any inclinations to keep to any set of morals. He was out of control, he didn't care who he killed and he certainly didn't seem keen on stopping. He let go of his self-restraint and gave in to his instinct. He tore their hearts from their bodies, he was monstrous. He used techniques that were drilled into him by the Court something he said he didn't want to do. He said he didn't want to be a Talon, yet that is exactly what he became," Monstrous…he'd called Darren monstrous,

"He's not a monster and you know that. And what about Jason? I mean he's my brother and I love him but he has still killed more people than we can count or even know about since becoming Red Hood. You can't just give up on Darren when you've never given up on him!" Dick snarled, sounding even angrier than before. Darren listened wide-eyed. What would Bruce say? What would he do if he didn't believe that Darren wanted to be good. Did he not understand that he was trying to be good even when it would be so easy not to…had he never trusted or believed in him to begin with? Was that another lie?

"Jason is his own person, a grown man. And adheres to my rules when he runs with us. Darren is unpredictable, he has been trained to kill longer than Jason has and he hasn't been exposed to any kind of morally right upbringing since he was five," Bruce growled back. Darren bit the inside of his cheek hard, waiting for Dick to reply. What would he say? Did either of them really believe that he couldn't restrain himself…that he couldn't learn to be like them?

"What do you want to do? Lock him up—," whatever else Dick snarled back at Bruce was cut off, Darren ripped himself away from that conversation. His heart beating rapidly and his breathing ragged and uneven. Lock him up? Did he really just say that? Would they do that? Lock him up like a criminal alongside the Joker, the Riddler, Two-Face…all of them…in Arkham or Blackgate? Would they do that?

Were they really that upset with him for killing those people? Those assassins? Those murderers? They were killers too…why didn't they understand that? He wouldn't do that to a civilian…though those assassins could easily hide in plain sight if they were trained to do it well and right…Darren shook his head hard—that wasn't the point. His breathing picking up in pace. He was on his way to a panic attack. They wanted him gone. They didn't want him…they probably never did. They were getting rid of him all because of one slip up…one mistake. One of four…but one too many it seemed. They thought he was a monster…his own cousin included. He took another breath a memory flashing through of him and his father on their drive to Alaska 'there's only so many 'accidents' someone like you can have, especially in their eyes,' and as much as it pained him to think of that, as much as it hurt to remember what Slade had let happen to him…he saw the truth in those words. He could see it now…it was happening now. The air seemed to get caught in his throat and then he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be here. He needed out, he needed away from here.

Darren pushed off of the island counter and stumbled towards an alternative entrance to the Batcave. As the main one was blocked Darren needed to make use of one of the many—yet lesser known—secret ways to get into the cave. Darren had been trained to look for fine details, including secret entrances or hideaways. People liked to hide when being hunted and killed. Upon entering the piano room he played the combination keys on the piano quickly and slipped into the elevator, glad for it as he didn't trust himself on the stairs leading down into the cavern—not when his head was spinning this much with sounds and a feeling of danger so great he felt like he would be sick.

He scrabbled with the glass casing that held his suit missing the release switch three times before yanking it out and putting it on. They didn't want him…they didn't trust him…they wouldn't help him…he let those words spear through his head as he speedily changed. Thankfully no one was down there at the moment…he couldn't face anyone, not right now, without breaking down. Monster, monster, monster…Bruce had called him a monster—and he was right.

Panicked tears blurred his vision and he blinked them away as he smacked on a mask. They didn't want him, or need him, or care for him. He was a monster, and monsters didn't need anyone. He ignored how heavy the suit felt, how it didn't fit him quite like it used to. He ignored how it felt so foreign to him and looked at the motorcycles before shaking his head. He couldn't use them, they had tracking devices within them—he himself had picked his suit clean of them. They wouldn't care anyway. He was a monster…a killer. One that couldn't change, and they were right. He'd always kill. It was instinct and it was all he knew. Nothing would change that. Instead of taking a motorcycle Darren turned to the back end of the cave, the way out for the vehicles, and with a deep breath sprinted down it.

They didn't care, they didn't want him, they wouldn't defend a killer.

Monster, monster, monster…lock him up, lock him up, lock him up.

No defending a killer, no redeeming one either.

Not by Bruce's rules or standards.

He never believed in Darren from the start.

Darren had forgotten what it felt like to speed through the streets of Gotham. The harsh wind blowing through his hair, his legs working harder and harder; faster and faster. He missed seeing the city flying by in a whirl of colors and blacks and whites, only what was in front of him in focus. He missed the feeling of his muscles working flawlessly to propel himself forward through the city's streets and back alleys. He'd forgotten what being strong felt like, and how liberating it was.

He'd forgotten what it felt like to be completely and utterly free. He sprinted so fast his body blurred, and he could feel it, he could feel his Talon speed and strength returning. He could feel the energy he had so little of returning and he could feel himself slowly but surely returning to how he had been before. The air being pulled into his lungs going from hitching and labored breathing to flawless and normal as he sprinted through the city. So much energy, so much strength and life…even if he was dead. It was exhilarating but it was also a lie.

While his abilities had returned, he was not free. The others would go looking for him once they discovered he was missing…he couldn't escape them but he didn't want to face them. Not with Bruce's threat hanging over him. Not with the fact that both his cousin and Bruce didn't trust him. He couldn't go to them, not when they were a risk to his freedom.

It was all he had. They had granted him a small taste of it…but now they too were snuffing it out. They too were taking it away…or they were going to. Perhaps he should have stayed and listened to what else they said…but it hurt too much to hear. The weight of what they said was too much for him to bear and he needed to leave. He needed to feel free once again…he wanted out of his gilded cage, and wanted out to the wild, chaotic freedom of the night.

He stumbled to a stop by an alleyway, leaning heavily against the brick wall, suddenly breathless and light-headed. The world spun and he heaved over, throwing up onto the pavement. While he could use his abilities, he still didn't have anywhere near as much energy to use them with that he should. Like anyone who wasn't used to running so excessively, he'd thrown up what little he had eaten. Darren breathed heavily for a few moments, looking at a new spot on the ground trying to make the world stop spinning before glancing up at the starry night sky and around at the civilians passing by. It was cold he realized…and he forgot his cloak. His suit was insulated, but not enough for the harsh winter nights of Gotham. He was also out in the open. Easy prey for the Court of Owls, the League of Assassins or even his father. Darren grimaced at that, glancing all around as paranoia set in.

If he couldn't go back to the Manor and he wasn't safe out in the city…where else could he go? What could he do? He could survive on the streets…but not while the Court was out searching for him, hoping their Talon and Owl would return to their nest and especially not while Ra's was possibly still hunting him for the recreation of the Electrum Formula with his father by his side.

There was nowhere to go…no one would keep him safe. Darren slumped over in despair, crouching close to the ground. He wanted to go back to the Manor. He wanted to go home but…he couldn't. Not when they were a threat to him…not when they wanted him gone. With a pained frown he glanced at the gloved gauntlet that covered his right hand, the silver Crowne ring on his finger snug underneath it. The twin to the silver ring was now Dick's. His only family, the one he trusted more than anyone…now wanted him locked up. Dick had lost his faith in him. He was alone. Completely alone. No one was coming for him…no one he wanted to at least.

But perhaps there was something he could do. He looked up and looked at the buildings near him. Recognizing where he was. Who lived here, someone he went to unconsciously…he had no intention of arriving in this location when he started running. But they knew him…at least part of him…and never wavered for as long as he had known them as both Darren and Renegade.

Shoving off the the brick wall, sticking to the shadows, he made his way toward the familiar apartment complex. They wouldn't hate him. He needed time to face all the Bats again, and time is what they would grant him…perhaps guidance and understanding as well.

A/N: So...to start. My opinion of Bruce is very love/hate. He believes that everyone can be saved, it's why he doesn't kill. He believes in the ability to turn your back on all the bad that you have done and turn it into good. It's why he won't kill those he fights...BUT his expectations are very different for those who fight ALONGSIDE him. He is very rigid in his moral code. He will not bend, he doesn't bend and doesn't like being told to bend. He does believe in second chances but only to a certain degree. Darren has 'messed up' quite a few times, he's crossed Bruce's line a lot. And to Bruce being allies with the police is really important, it is essentially what allows the Batfam to work. If they lose that trust because they do not allow the processes of justice(the court systems) to go through, then they're done. They're over and they're being hunted down by the authorities they once worked with. The people of Gotham fear them when they used to see hope through them and villains know they aren't out there so they go and start anarchy whenever they can.

To Bruce, they can't lose that. Therefore they can't have risks to that trust. Even so, he has given Damian second and third chances, probably because he's his son but also because Damian has come an extremely long way from where he once was. So he's not as hard on Damian because he knows he understands. Jason doesn't really run with them anymore, Bruce can't control him or his actions but when Jason does work with him he adheres to their rules(for the most part). Darren is a wildcard. He's completely new to this, he doesn't know the ropes and he is completely used to killing and only killing. He wasn't brought up in a place that encouraged empathy and compassion, he wasn't brought up in a place that taught right from wrong...which in hindsight is similar to Damian, but Damian was five years younger than Darren when he was brought to live with Bruce, he was still impressionable and his cognitive map(a mental representation of one's physical environment-this is a loose and oversimplified definition but it's also a pretty good one) wasn't set or complete. That happens at around 15 - 19/20 years old. Which means that Darren's cognitive map, when being brought to Wayne Manor was set. Which is why it is even more difficult for him to curb that killer instinct.

I'm not trying to paint Bruce as a bad guy, I just don't like how rigid he is about his morals. Flexibility is good and important in certain situations. Additionally, Darren cut off his listening in before the conversation was over so he only knew what he heard and didn't hear the rest of the conversation. So his reaction was a bit premature. Yet still really significant as it shows how little he actually trusted Bruce to begin with and also how little he believed Bruce's trust was genuine.

Sorry this was so long, and please let me know what you thought of this chapter, was Bruce too OC? Do you not agree with what I have said? What are you true inner most thoughts on this current situation? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

Next chapter on Thursday!