AN) Hey! You guys are awesome! 205 reviews! Thank you so much! I will take the first idea given to me, Firecracker you don't count! You get input anyway. XD. I hope you enjoy this! Have fun, and keep awesome!

His mind was disoriented, his legs felt like jelly as he rolled on his back. Slowly his eyes peeked open, small visions of the ceiling revealing themselves. He was tired, the bed as so comfy. So warm and soft—he didn't want to get up. He snuggled down against the covers, he didn't want to do anything. No training, no nothing. Training—training! Master would be expecting him to be ready and waiting! Eyes flashed open, the covers flying across the room as he tumbled from his bed. No, no, no, no—NO! He couldn't be late, if he was late Master would be displeased and angry—and worst of all—disappointed. He had been so gracious the previous evening, he had treated Richard fairly—he would hate to disappoint Master two days in a row.

Hurriedly he pulled the tight training uniform over his messy hair, hoping as he yanked each leg into the pants. If he disappointed Master once again so soon, he would be greatly displeased and would surely beat him. Master had seemed to be considering to stop beating him the night before—and that would be wonderful! Master would still reprimand him, but if the whip went away it would be fantastic.

He tore through the hall, feet pounding across the floor. He didn't want to be any later, Master would become even more enraged—and he would be beaten and Master would hate him. And Master would starve him and increase his lessons to unthinkable standards. Or worse, he could lock him in the room. Richard shivered, he did not want to go to the room again.

Rounding around a corner, he was tossed to the ground. Grunting slightly as he landed with a thump. He looked up—eyes widening in terror. Oh no, this was not going to be good. He shifted his weight to his knees, forehead pressed to the ground. Hands protecting the nape of his neck. He wished to look as small, submissive and servile as possible. To submit himself and avoid any punishment.

He was curled before his master, kneeling at his feet—like any good apprentice should. He was trembling, he knew it. He also knew that Master expected complete and utter humility. So the fear he was having was what Master wished for him to have and show.

"Richard." Master sounded pleased, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. He was not angry, at least not yet. "It's good to see you up." He didn't sound sarcastic. "You may rise child." He slowly lifted his head from the ground, his eyes still low. His little stomach doing flip flops as he waited for Master's next order. But there was an awkward pause. Maybe it was Richard's turn to speak?

"A-Apologies Master, I m-meant to arrive for training, b-but I—"

"Relax child. There will be no training for today. Unless you wish."

U-Unless he wished? He could choose if he wanted to train? W-Why? Master was giving him a choice? He felt honored, extremely honored.

"T-Thank you Master." He whispered.

A soft chuckle reached his years. Master reached down, patting his head. Upon natural instinct he shied away. But of course, he wanted the kind touch. He wanted the praise. So he leaned into Master's gloved hand. He felt his fingers intertwine with his messy locks. Kind, it didn't hurt at all. It was soft—proud, almost.

"Come along Richard, I believe Mr. Wintergreen has prepared breakfast."

He was going to eat breakfast with Master? Whenever he was fed, the food—usually oatmeal or some form of gruel—was slid into his room through a small flap in the door. He was going to have the honor of eating with Master?

He rose slowly, trailing along behind his master.

Breakline

The child followed obediently behind, his back straight—hands clasped behind his back. He was copying Slade's mannerisms completely. It was adorable. Even their steps were in sync, Richard hurrying to keep up with him. Slade smirked behind the mask. Richard was so desperately trying to please him. He was willing to do anything. Anything.

They walked in silence, the only sound to echo the halls was their footsteps. Until they reached the dining room. Slade opened the door, nodding for the boy to enter. He ducked his head hurrying to obey his 'orders'.

Richard was completely disciplined. He obeyed orders upon command, he showed respect at all times, he was humble. Slade now saw on reason that the boy would have to continue his beatings. Will—did have reason and a point. As much as he hated to admit it. He motioned for the child to claim the seat opposing his seat at the head of the table. Richard timidly sat across from him. His eyes kept dancing up and back, nervous most likely.

A tiny smirk moved across his lips, the child was almost growing on him. Yes, Richard had grown on him—slightly. The boys little nervous habits were actual endearing, his stutter had once been dubbed cute, but soon lost that claim as it became annoying. But yes—his blue eyes were considered….cute. Yes. There. He admitted it. The boy was considered a brat, but his eyes-their stunning crystal blue was interesting.

Will placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of him and the boy. Slade picked up the fork, glancing toward the child. His hands were still clasped upon his lap, his head still bowed. Very good, he still followed his rule of receiving his master's permission before eating.

"You may eat Richard." Richard picked up his fork, quietly shoveling a scoop of egg into his mouth.

And so his eyes lit up. Slade removed his mask—placing it against the table. Richard enjoyed his food, he was barely restraining himself from inhaling the food. But the boy did show some self-control.

The look Will gave him as he exited was reprimanding, Slade nodded slightly. He knew what to do. He would manipulate the boy, he would twist his opinion against the League and their sidekicks. Once the child had turned from them, he would be treated well. He knew the new rules. But, Richard would respect his authority. He would obey him. Richard knew the rules, and he would comply by them.

Needless to say, with his large appetite and hurried eating, Richard was finished first. But he calmly waited, his head bowed and hands held in his lap. Docile. A child was never docile, they bounced off the walls. They ran about and played and shouted. While Slade was glad Richard was not hyper active and childish—now that he thought of it, it was a tad unnerving to see a small boy so timid. Grant was never that still, Joey might've been, but Grant—

There he went comparing the boy again. No. Richard was his property, his apprentice. He was not his son. No. He wasn't.

Finished with the eggs he careful wiped his mouth, his fork resting against the plate.

"Thank you, Will." He nodded as the man reappeared to clear the table. "Richard, you will usually help Mr. Wintergreen clear the table." The boy looked like he was going to jump to comply. "But not today, come along Richard."

The boy scampered after him like a little puppy. His head bowed. Again, the child mimicked his actions, though he did lag behind at a respectable distance.

"Richard, come up here." He scurried forward, ducking his head as he strode next to his master. "I don't want to have to look over my shoulder to speak with you."

"Yes Ma-Master. I'm s-sorry."

"Very well." He paused a moment, letting a soft silence control the air. Before starting the real conversation. "Tell me Richard," the boy winced slightly—what could he be fearing? "What have you been seeing?"

The child hesitated, seemingly collecting his thoughts. Slade waiting patiently, no need to rush the boy. And then—everything spilled. Richard's nightmare, his race with the ginger. His shield. Richard confessed to it all, his cheeks burning bright red as he finished. His head was held low, biting his lip he waited for Slade to lash out in anger.

Instead, the man sighed sadly. Those bright blue eyes darted up in shock.

"I had hoped they would have gone." He shook his head, Richard looking expectantly for an explanation. "Do you remember when you awoke from a drug testing?"

"Yes, M-Master."

"That was no regular testing. Richard, you were stolen from me." He looked so scared, Slade trying to make his tone as sad and scared while still sounding strong. "The Justice League, you do remember them, don't you?" He nodded slowly. "And their second team, little sidekicks?" He nodded once more. "They came, they took you from me. They tried to force thoughts and feelings into your mind. To turn you against me."

"Master I-I—"

"I know Richard, it was not your fault. If anything—it was mine." Richard's jaw dropped—his eyes growing seven times wider. "I should've training you better, protected you. What they did to you," again shaking his head in disbelief, "Richard they manipulated your mind." Even thought that was what Slade was doing himself. "They tried—the Martians—to give you feelings they never gave you. They only wanted to use you Richard. They lied. Kid Flash claimed he loved you, yet—"He paused, closing his eyes in grief. "He never did, Green Lantern claimed he would give you a family, while he never planned to carry it out."

"They lied to you, they ruined your trust, they—poisoned your mind." He spat the words in disgust. "I was terrified Richard, when I returned to find you missing. I wasn't sure where you went, if you were hurt—if you were even alive."

He grasped the child's shoulders, the boy appeared close to tears. Excellent. Slade took a knee next to the boy, the child's voice quavered.

"T-They didn't care?" He whispered, his voice dripping with pain.

"I'm sorry Richard, I'm sorry." The tears came. And Slade gathered the boy in his arms.

"I-I'm sorry!"

"It's alright Richard. Dick, it's alright. I promise that I'll protect you, I promise." Still the boy wept. "You can get through this Richard. "He held the child an arm's length away. "You're strong Richard. Every time I punished you, you grew in strength. I'm so proud of you Richard." That key phrase helped calm the boy, he looked so hopeful.

"R-Really?"

"Of course, Dick. I've always been proud of you. Every time I punished you, you grew. You were disciplined—you became stronger. I had to teach you the price of failure, enemies like the League will not kill you unlike so other enemies might—but they will abandon all morals to manipulate you. They will lie and deceive. You've proven you can endure through such things. You were still young, your mind was still moldable. This has hurt you Richard, I can tell. I hate seeing you hurt this way. Every time I punished you, I hated it. Every second of it." Hissing the word like it was venom. "But you're grown. I knew you would. I will no longer beat you child, you're grown past that. When they took you—"He gently cupped the boy's cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I was terrified. These memories, they hurt you—don't they?"

"Yes Master." He whispered, three new tears wetting his cheeks.

"Hush, I will make them go away. There's a medicine, it will dull them. They can't hurt you anymore." Even if he refused Slade would hide them in his food. These pills he would take every morning, mixed with a shot of the drug once a month, would keep his rebellion down. For if he really remembered-any lie Slade gave him would be worthless.

"P-please Master. Make them go away." Richard begged.

"Of course, Richard. Of course." He jumped, as the boy threw his arms around his neck. But instead he smiled, folding his own arms around the boy. Richard completely needed him. His eyes did ignite with sparks the moment he spoke of the boy proudly, as he spoke of missing and caring about the child. Richard was dedicated to winning Slade's favor. This plan, was already working perfectly.

After a moment of comfort the child pulled away, almost in shock of what he had done, Slade smiled, righting himself, running a hand through the messy oxen hair.

"You have the rest of the day Richard, you may do as you wish."

"Thank you, Master."

Breakline

It was a lot to digest. The memories—they were real, but the emotions behind them were false? Someone had planted them in his brain? Shame pursed through him as his foot connected with the training dummies side. He did have a free day, but training was all he really could do, besides sit and read. The movement helped clear his mind.

They had been able to control him, to twist his mind and thoughts against the man he'd sworn to serve. But Master claimed responsibility. He claimed error. Master said he should've better prepared Richard.

The shame turned into pride. Master had said he was strong, that he had grown. That he cared for him. All Richard wanted was for his master to be proud of him, and his biggest wish was for Master to care about him. And they both came true.

But the pride morphed into sadness. Master had been worried about him. He was scared. Richard wasn't supposed to trouble Master, he wasn't! But he had scared and worried him. When the League took him—the League. Rage pounded in his head.

It was the League! They worried his master, they scared him! They filled his own head with empty words, false promises. They acted like they cared, and they never did! It was all fake! Kaldur's stories were false. Wally's laughter was fake. Roy's love, Connor's promises were lies. Artemis' forgiveness was all untrue. Megan—Megan had brainwashed him! Her giggles and smiles and bedtime stories were all a façade! They were all her attempts to twist his mind. And Hal—he growled, bringing his fists against the dummies head. Hal had exploited his desire for affection, had twisted his want for kindness and caring to be used against him. How dare he?

How dare any of them? He didn't belong to them, he belonged to Master. Master cared for him, none of them did. The gifts, the praise—it was all false. They were just trying to use him. Master never had! He trained him, he cared for him! All the League, all of their sidekicks—he hated them! He hated them all!

"Jason… What about Jason?" His mind asked of him.

What about Jason? Who was Jason? Wasn't Jason the boy who gave him music? Yeah, yeah that was Jason. He had sung and danced with him—he had stopped him from beating himself. He was lying too! Was he? Jason had stolen him from danger—when Artemis was angry. That must've been her true feelings about him, Jason had become angry at her and taken him some place safe, had given him food. Had talked with him.

The other's talked to him, Jason talked with him. Maybe Jason wasn't trying to brainwash him? Maybe—he couldn't know. Well—he hated Jason less than the others right now. But still—how could they? They lied to him! In his memories, he seemed to trust them. But he was only under their power. Being controlled, used for Master's training. Richard was not the League's to take, he was Master's apprentice, not some soldier for the League to order about. That's what Master told him they were trying to do.

The head of the training dummy snapped off, rolling a few feet on the ground before resting. He paused, staring at the head. He would fix it later, before he returned to barraging the dummy's torso with a kick or punch. He was going to prove to the League that he was not going to be controlled by them. He would ignore their lies and be loyal to the man who cared for him, he would be loyal to his master.

Breakline

"How is the boy?" Will asked, his hands sudsy as he washed the dishes.

"Richard's fine. I gave him the day off."

Will nodded, "And what's he doing on his 'day off'?"

Slade shrugged, in all honesty—there wasn't much for a child to do. "Most likely training."

"Training?" Will dropped the dish in the soapy water, turning to face him. "Slade, he's a child. He has to do something other than training every day!"

"Well what should he do? I know nothing about children."

"I'm getting you a book."

"I'm not his father!"

"You're going to be acting like one." Will turned back to his dishes. "Tomorrow, I want you to take him shopping."

"W-What?" Slade spluttered. "In public?"

"Yes. Not the black market."

"What on Earth would we be shopping for?"

"Clothes, he needs some nice ones. A few dress shirts wouldn't hurt. Put these in the cabinet." He handed over a stack of plates, which Slade did stack in the cabinet. "Some toys, board games. If you're going to start giving him free time you might as well give him something to do."

"Fine."

He was not interested to take the child shopping, he never went shopping himself. But it would be a small price to par to get Will off of his back. At least for a while.

Richard had bought the lies easily, hopefully he would come to hate the League. Slade believed he already was starting to mistrust them by the end of Slade's speech. His acting skills had passed, being able to fake concern. But it wasn't all fake, he had been extremely worried, more about the compromising of any more of his bases than for the boy. But still had worried that he might not regain his apprentice. But the child was back, and soon he would hate the very people who had tried to rescue him. Leaving Richard alone to his thoughts should move the process along.

Breakline

He placed one foot in front of the other, staring straight ahead. He had abandoned trying to do complicated routines and flips across the balance beam, and had simply walked across it. He hummed slightly to himself, not exactly sure why. Jason he figured, but it wasn't that important. Should he tell Master? He furrowed his brow, maybe not? It was just a tune stuck in his head. If it turned into something more—like an actual memory he would tell Master.

"Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities. Forget about your worries and your strife, I mean the bare necessities, old Mother Nature's recipes that bring the bare necessities of life." He sang under his breath. Not sure where that came from. A movie? Yeah, it was a movie. Something about a jungle and a singing bear—which was ridiculous since bears couldn't sing.

Richard continued to walk the balance beam, teetering every once in a while to add a bit of entertainment to his walk.

"Chim, chimney, chim, chimney. Chim, chim, cher-ee. A sweep is as lucky, as lucky can be. Chim, chimney, chim, chimney. Chim, chim, cher-oo. Good luck will rub off when I shakes hands with you. Or blow me a kiss, and that's lucky too."

Well—that was different. Definitely not from the movie with the singing bear. A sweep? That probably was from the movie with the talking umbrella and person who flew to the ceiling when he laughed. Seriously? Who the heck made these thing? An insane person? He shook his head, wobbling slightly.

"Richard?" He jumped, toppling off the beam. Bracing himself he turned his descent into a summersault. Peeking over the beam Richard then crawled under it, remaining on his knees. "Head off to bed." He nodded, rising to obey Master's command. He hadn't seen Master since that morning, though Mr. Wintergreen had come to fetch him for lunch and dinner.

"Yes Master." He hurried toward his room. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. As long as the League and their sidekicks stayed away.

AN) Dun , Dun—Dunnnn! What'll happen next? Will Slade's evil plan succeed? Will Dick hated the Justice League and Young Justice forever? Will Wally and Roy find him in time? Will Hal be able to celebrate Father's day? Will Roy live long enough with Jade mad at him to help Dick? Find out next time, same Bat-story, same Bat-site!