-x-

hello everyone here is an update im starting this 5/14 (its March 2020 now LOL) anyway so we will see how long it takes me to actualy finish lol I keep forgetting parts of the story and i keep having to go back an re-read to remember who knows what lol.

i guess short summary for everyone is there's a few "teams".

Team 1: The Light

Team 2: JLA

Team 3: Roy and Alfred

Team 4: The sidekicks

Team 5: Dick and Slade

The Light Enemies are JLA and Dick/Slade. They have no allies from the teams above. Priority is taking down JLA among other things.

The JLA Enemies are the Light, but they don't know about the Light just bits and pieces. They will no longer partner with the Sidekicks but will partner with Roy/Alfred occasionally. Priority is unclear.

Roy and Alfred sort of just do their own thing and team up with the Sidekicks. They aren't pursuing the Light in any way. Priority is Gotham City.

The Sidekicks now refuse to work with the JLA and are most determined to bring down Slade.

And Slade and Dick are enemies with everyone. They fled to California to avoid the Light and put distance between them and the sidekicks.

Pretty much everyone is mad at Superman because hes not coping with Batman's death and doesn't quite have it figured out how to emerge as the solo leader of the JLA. M'gann's identity was leaked and needs a new identity and this makes the team wonder how much Slade knows about all of them. Theres some distrust building between Dick and Artemis and Dick and Roy as they are unsure of where his loyalty lies. Aqualad has to remind KF that this is a good thing to get different perspectives b/c KF is annoyed that people dont trust Dick after everything he's done.

Hope this recap is useful sort of.

-X-

He was shivering.

Dick could feel the wind against his skin but couldn't look down at his feet. His neck felt frozen and eyes were transfixed on the city lights. It was cold enough that Dick saw his breath swirl around his face before dissipating into the night. There were clouds in the sky, yet no snow.

He felt his body step forward and walk. Dick could feel the concrete beneath his toes. He was on a rooftop along a city but Dick didn't recognize the skyline. He could see the circus at the edge of the buildings. The tent grew larger and larger with each step he took and Dick felt his body move faster and faster to catch up to it. The sound of his heavy footsteps against the concrete met his ears until his legs kept moving but there was no longer concrete beneath them.

The ground was getting closer and closer. Dick shut his eyes. Mom, Dad, Bruce. He'd see them all on impact.

...

Dick opened his eyes wide. There was sweat on his forehead and the light poured into the window onto his face. Dick groaned and pulled a thick pillow over his eyes. California was too bright for him.

Two weeks, they had been in California. Dick had counted each day. They were staying in a typical house in some suburb. From the window, Dick could poke his head out and see similar one story houses with well maintained grass and bushes. It was different than what he was used to. He was used to the isolation of Wayne Manor and the dilapidated buildings deep in the city. Gotham was a dark place to live, no doubt, but Dick had grown fond of it.

He removed the pillow from his face and sat up in the bed. His room got too hot in the morning despite it being the middle of winter. The sun lit up his room as soon as it poked up over the horizon and quickly heated up his room. Jump City didn't have winters like Gotham City did.

He rubbed the sand out of his eyes exited the room, glancing down the hallway as he went. That was where Slade slept, supposedly. Or at least, that's what Dick assumed he was doing. Who knows if Slade even needed to sleep? Maybe all he had to do was recharge his batteries like a cyborg.

The door was closed as usual, so Dick proceeded into the kitchen area. When he walked in, he could smell a faint trace of coffee in the air. Slade must have been awake already. Dick assumed the man was working out, because there was a staircase in the kitchen which lead to a large basement with adequate training equipment for the time being. The house was small, like a split-level home. Dick could imagine a couple living here, due to the small size and accessibility of everything.

As though on cue, Slade ascended the staircase. Dick could see the sweat on the man from a workout.

"So is this your summer house or something?" Dick asked him. He threw Slade a cold bottle of water from the fridge.

"Temporary lodging," Slade explained to Dick, "The property belongs to Will. But we will be moving into the haunt shortly. Today, as a matter of fact. A colleague of mine is finishing up the building."

"Who's the colleague?" Dick asked.

Slade responded, "Professor Chang. He's an... interesting man, if you will. The leading seller of Xenothium in the underground market. You will be meeting him today. We will be purchasing the remainder of the Xenothium we need."

"Purchasing?" Dick scoffed, "Didn't think you even actually knew how to buy things."

"Very funny."

"I thought it was." Dick affirmed, "Do you really need more Xenothium?" Dick asked, "What about all the Xenothium we stole from Luthor?"

"That is being used towards the thermal blaster. However, I have considered making some improvements to your suit. You see, Xenothium can be used for powering equipment, but can be useful for other things such as lasers, shields, and even teleportation."

"Teleportation?!" Dicks eyes lit up. "That's asterous."

"Yes, it is quite... asterous." Slade repeated.

"We used teleportation with the team." Dick explained, "ZETA tubes, is what we called them. I could go from Gotham to Central City in a flash."

Slade nodded briefly, "The Xenothium will not be that powerful, you will only be able to go a few feet at a time. But I'm certain it will be useful to get yourself out of a tight situation."

"Will you be adding it to your suit?"

"I have not yet decided."

"Oh, so I'm the guinea pig." Dick noted aloud, "So if I lose a hand or something, you'll wont do it?"

"Lose a hand?" Slade looked perplexed, "What kind of movies have you been watching?

"You know..." Dick goaded, "Like with wizards."

Slade continued, "I can assure you that your body will remain intact." He answered, "I, however, am capable of disappearing on my own, if you will. I do not require such tools to help me."

"And you think I do?"

"Not exactly." Slade responded, "I don't underestimate your abilities, Dick. But you are both young and in an unfamiliar line of work. It may help you get out of a pinch in the future. Plus, I thought you would find it cool."

"It is cool." Dick agreed, "Might even give me enough of an edge to beat you."

Slade chuckled, "I won't hold my breath."

Slade went to the kitchen sink and washed his hands, "Do you remember where your gear is?" Slade asked, "We can go to pick up the Xenothium when you are prepared."

"Your room, right?" Dick asked, "In the green trunk?"

Slade nodded, "Correct. You can retrieve it and begin to back your things. We will be staying in the haunt tonight."

Dick gave Slade a nod before turning to go back upstairs. He turned left and went down the short hallway until he reached the door. Carefully, he pushed it open and stepped inside of the room. Dick was uncertain what he expected to find in the room, but there was a large bed, a desk, an armchair, and a large mirror. A typical room. The comforter on the bed had a floral design to it. Dick almost laughed, imagining the all mighty Deathstroke sleeping under a floral blanket.

He peered around, looking for the green trunk. Dick could see it poking out from underneath the foot of the bed. He walked forward and got on his knees to pull out the trunk from below the bed. It was much heavier than Dick expected it to be.

Once he got the trunk out from the bed, he opened the buckles on the side of it and popped the top open. His uniform was sitting on top, all his metallic gear there as well. Dick scooped everything he could in his arms and rose to his feet. He used his foot to push the lid down and clasp the buckles again. He tried to wiggle his toes to get the buckles to clamp shut, but had no such luck. Slyly, Dick pushed the trunk back underneath the bed, leaving the clasps open.

He turned back to exit the room but stopped at the desk in there. There were no papers on top of it. There were no photos, no pens, no laptop, no... nothing. Dick found it obscure. He knew for a fact Slade brought his laptop on the trip with them. Not to mention the fact that they had spent two weeks here. Slade had to be doing something to occupy his time.

Instead of exiting the room, Dick dropped his uniform onto the top of the desk and began to tug on some of the drawers. Some of the drawers appeared to be locked, although Dick didn't see any keyholes. He continued to tug at the drawers until he found one that finally opened.

He had been tugging so hard on the handle that Dick almost thought he broke the drawer. The handle was still attached to the wooden drawer so Dick peered inside. There was a stack of papers. Quickly, Dick fingered through them. Most things appeared to be property taxes, proof of ownership, and even a vehicle registration. Boring, Dick thought to himself. He had almost made it to the bottom of the drawer when he felt a different material under his fingers. Dick could recognize the feeling almost instantly, it wasn't a piece of paper it was a photograph.

Dick grasped the photo in his hands before pulling it out of the draw. He looked at it closely. It was a photograph of Slade and Wintergreen. Both were in military uniform, Dick could recognize different stars and medals on Wintergreen's chest and noticed Slade lacking in them. He noticed how young they both were. Quickly, Dick turned the photo around, 1985.

Quickly, Dick did the math in his head. Slade would have been twenty-one years old when that photo was taken. Dick went to the photo again. Slade looked... normal. His hair was blonde, but extremely short, and his face was well shaven. Even Wintergreen had dark hair in the photo. Neither were smiling, but both stood proud in their uniforms. It was fascinating to see.

Before waiting too long, Dick slipped the photo back where he found it and shut the drawer. That was enough snooping for the day, he figured. Quickly he scooped the uniform back into his hands and made his way back into his room.

-X-

"Ah ha, Deathstroke!"Professor Chang cheered, "Always a pleasure."

Dick cringed at the man's high-pitched, yet raspy voice. Professor Chang waddled over towards Slade with a black clad glove extended. His step was bowlegged and stature was short and fat. Dick observed as Slade reached forward and shook the man's hand. With his hand still grasping Slade's, Professor Chang crooked his head to the side and his black soulless goggles locked onto Dick, "And... and who is this young fellow?"

The man took a step towards Dick. Dick had to stop himself from taking a step back.

Slade tightened his grip on the Professor's hand to stop him from proceeding any further, "This is my apprentice." He answered shortly, "Now, Professor, we are in a hurry today."

Professor Chang continued to stare at Dick a few moments longer, his head still crooked to the side. Slowly, a wide grin came across his face, "But, of course." He said with a bow. Finally releasing Slade's hand, the Professor turned around and waddled away through a doorway, muttering to himself as he went. Dick peered as the distance grew between them. Gray skin, white suit, and black rubber boots and gloves. Dick could see an odd curvature of his spine which impacted his posture. He stood a little straighter to compensate for his unease.

After a few short moments, the Professor emerged from the doorway with a large black box in his hands. It was holding the Xenothium, Dick assumed. Professor Chang walked past Slade quickly and held the box for Dick to grab. Dick reached forward and took the box from his hands. It was bulky but lighter than he anticipated.

The man grinned and tilted his head to the side again. Dick could tell the Professor should have been taller than him, but his hunch caused him to appear shorter much shorter. Dick kept his gaze locked on the Professor's black lenses. He could see nothing behind the goggles, no hint of real life behind them. They were rimmed and dark and Dick could see redness on his skin where the goggles dug into the flesh. Some parts had scabbed over. It looked as if the googles never even moved. Dick continued to stare until the man reached a gloved hand towards Dick's face.

Before the Professor got close enough, Dick opened the top of the box and peered inside. The top of the box provided a sufficient barrier between them even as he struggled to hold the box in one arm. His eyes rolled over the red substance, counting each of the vials as he went.

"You're short."

The Professor cackled, "Eh heh... So... He speaks." He rubbed his chin, "Very good, boy."

Without another word, the man turned around again and went to the back once more. Dick released a breath he held as he closed the top of the box. The man gave him the absolute creeps. If the Professor came out crawling on all fours like a horror film, he would bolt out of there, Dick decided. He looked over at Slade and the man gave him a reassuring nod of the head.

Once again, the Professor emerged with another, smaller box. His rubber boots squeaked as he came. Dick noticed there were footprints from his boots this time. He must have stepped in something wet.

The Professor came up to him and opened the case in his hands. Dick accounted for the rest of the Xenothium and nodded his head once. The Professor chuckled again and placed the box on top of the one already in Dick's hands. He noticed that Professor Chang had darkened, crooked teeth.

The Professor's rubber glove still remained on top of the box. He patted it a few times, "This... This is my good stuff." He inhaled loudly through his nostrils. "The last of it too... heh."

Slowly, his hand fell from the top of the box and came back to his side. The goggles never moving away from Dick's gaze, "Take good care of it."

Dick made no motion and did not speak. He continued to stare down at the man, something, Dick had to admit, that he couldn't do very often due to his height.

"We will make our leave. Come, apprentice." Slade spoke. The crooked man continued to peer at Dick until Dick broke the eye contact with him. Dick held the Xenothium tightly in his hands. He could still feel the twisted gaze in his back. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand. Dick found that he couldn't wait to be outside again and as far away from the Professor as possible. When the two of them stepped out of the door, Dick could hear the man laugh from behind them one last time before the door shut and sealed him inside again.

"What was that?" Dick inquired. Dick found himself walking faster than Slade to get further away from the lab.

"I told you he was an interesting man."

"Interesting?!" Dick placed the Xenothium into the car, "Interesting was the best word you could think of to describe him?"

Slade got in the driver's seat, "And how would you describe him?"

"I-I don't know. A total creep? Weirdo? That was like if the Joker and Doctor Strange had a kid together." Dick shivered at the thought of Joker and Doctor Strange having offspring together, "You could've warned me he was going to be like..." He couldn't find the words to describe it, "Like that."

The older man chuckled, "You did just fine." Slade told him. Dick's discontent was very clear.

"Whatever." Dick huffed, "I'm sick the attention your so-called friends keep giving me. I'm not a showpiece."

"Don't tell me, Richard Grayson is afraid of the limelight?"

"I wasn't ashamed to be Dick Grayson." He lashed back, "I'm not Dick Grayson when I'm around them." Dick turned his head to the window and settled into the car seat. The staring, the questioning, the looks, he was tired of it. A part of him wanted to disappear completely. The attention was starting to suffocate him. Posing as Slade's son to Jefferson at the airport. Wearing Slade's uniform for him in front of his friends and Professor Chang. It was as though he had a neon sign stating that he used to be a hero and was now the apprentice of a mercenary. A sign that compelled people to look at him like there was something wrong.

"Thinking of a new alias?"

"I don't know." Dick's response was short.

"The attention is only temporary," Slade reminded him, "You did well today."

"I'm not going to thank you, if that's what your waiting for."

Slade curled a slight smile, expecting nothing less of him, "Of course not, Dick."

Slade allowed Dick a few minutes to sulk. Dick was focused on the landscaping outside the window. There were a lot of palm trees, he noticed. He had actually never seen one in real life before, only in the movies. They were not as interesting as he thought they might be.

They were headed to the new haunt. Dick had packed his stuff into his suitcase again and it was in the back of the vehicle nestled against the crates of Xenothium. He knew the piece of Starro was somewhere in there, as well as a few other oddities Slade brought with them. He couldn't imagine anything being any different in this haunt than the original one. But it had to be enough to make staying there worthwhile.

Slade spoke again, "I understand the transition may be difficult."

Dick scoffed, "What do you think?"

"The more I make you a part of, the faster you will be able to reestablish an identity for yourself." Slade reminded him, "They will stop seeing you as what was but as you are."

"What I am?" Dick inquired, "You mean the Boy Wonder gone bad?"

"Professor Chang did not recognize you as the Ex-Boy Wonder." Slade stated, "He saw you as my apprentice. And, when you refused to back down, you gained his respect."

Dick didn't respond.

Slade continued to speak, "This line of work demands respect, Dick. If you can't establish that for yourself, then you'll never make it. That's why criminals like Penguin are consistently unsuccessful compared to Black Mask or Joker." Slade explained, "In instances where you cannot be respected, then you need to be feared instead. Assert your dominance. Then, other individuals not only willing to work with you, but are also willing to work for you."

Again, Dick didn't respond, but appeared to be listening.

"I'm sure you are no stranger to not being taken seriously." Slade said, "Working under me is no small feat, and you will have the respect of many based on that fact alone. However, I expect you to develop your own reputation for yourself. Establishing a new identity could help with that, but it is not required. "

Dick pondered Slade's words. He didn't want to be anyone but Dick Grayson but he felt ashamed to be Dick under Slade's tutelage. Not to mention, it was even more embarrassing to be called Robin while in Slade's uniform. He was ruining the reputation he had developed over the past four years. Robin lived a hero and would have never succumbed to Slade's hand. Dick, on the other hand, didn't feel as strong. He couldn't even remember the last time he actually felt like Robin.

Finally, Dick responded, "I don't feel like I'm Dick Grayson anymore. Or Robin. Robin wouldn't do this." Dick gestured to his uniform, "Robin wouldn't have given up. I haven't felt like Robin since that stupid training simulation."

"You put so much pressure on yourself to maintain this image." Slade said, "I keep reminding you that not everything is black and white. There are shades of gray everywhere. Do you understand what I mean by that?

"You mean that things aren't always right and wrong. But what I'm telling you that some things are only right or only wrong. For some things, there are no in between. You're trying to talk about stealing from Luthor, right? Well, just because Luthor is a bad guy doesn't somehow negate the fact that we still stole. The cycle keeps going."

"Everything is a matter of perspective," Said Slade, "Think about the story of RobinHood. Stealing from the abusive wealthy to distribute among those who have nothing. To the wealthy, he was a criminal. To the poor, he was a hero. How can he be both at the same time? It is because RobinHood resides in the middle, in the gray area of right and wrong."

Dick shook his head, "The end doesn't justify the means." He stated firmly, "If I kill a murderer, the number of murderers in the world doesn't change."

"But if you kill a murderer who would have gone on to kill dozens of others, those individuals who's lives were spared would consider you a hero."

"Maybe." Dick agreed, "But that doesn't make it right."

"Had Batman killed the Joker, you would consider him a criminal?"

Dick tensed, "Batman doesn't murder."

"I'm asking hypothetically." Slade pressed, "Think of the thousands of lives that would be saved. Would having killed a mass murderer undone all the good Batman had done? When police officers take the lives of mass murderers, they are heroes."

"When you take the law into your own hand, you have to maintain the highest standards." Dick explained, "Otherwise everyone would go running around thinking they could take the law into their own hands too."

"Taking the law into your own hands," Slade mused, "A vigilante, yes? From what I recall, Batman was considered a villain when he first started his crusade."

"That's different, they didn't know yet."

"Ah." Slade nodded, "They had a different perspective, did they not?"

"Okay, so maybe Batman was considered a criminal at first? What point are you trying to make?"

"The point I am trying to make is that doing bad things doesn't make you a bad person." Slade made his point clearly, "By your logic, you would need to consider Batman a criminal for having become a vigilante. But things aren't so cut and dry. That in this case, the end did indeed justify the means."

"That's just one example."

"One side of the same coin, Dick. I'm not asking you to completely change your moral code, even I have a code that which I follow." Slade explained, "All I ask is that you entertain the idea that doing something considered bad in the eyes of the law doesn't automatically make you a bad person."

"Do you think you are a good person?" Dick asked him.

"No." Slade answered truthfully, "But I'm not asking you to be like me. You will find the role that suits you, but that will take some time. I ask that you try and keep an open mind."

Dick settled into is seat. Keep an open mind? Slade had somehow taken the rules he had followed to a tee and somehow made them seem... incorrect? Not incorrect, Dick told himself, but in a gray area. Dick had to stop and think, would he have considered Batman a criminal had he done the deed and killed Joker? The act was criminal, but did that really ruin everything Batman had done for years? Did that really undo everything Batman had done for the city?

Dick kept his head towards the window to made sure to keep note of important landmarks and street names in the event he would be out on his own at some point. He tried to read some of the names on the buildings in the downtown area of Jump City but Dick couldn't quite make out any of the words. The city appeared to be teeming with life. A lot of young people, as Slade had told him. It almost seemed like a decent place.

He needed to find his own role here, as Slade put it. Maybe he find some balance which suited him.

There was a pizza place on the next street corner, Dick noticed. The sight of it made him perk up in his chair. Rarely, had he seen a building with a bright yellow color for the bricks. There was a balcony with red umbrellas on top.

"I don't suppose you eat pizza." Dick said aloud.

Slade came to a stop at a stoplight. The intersection was teeming with life, "I don't remember the last time I had pizza." He said

"Let's get pizza for lunch then."

Slade raised an eyebrow, gesturing to Dick's uniform, "Do you plan on stealing a pizza?"

"My clothes are in the trunk." He said. "I just need to change the shirt and shoes."

"Really?" Slade asked, "You really expect me to stop for pizza?"

"Come on," Dick whined, "What harm is one pizza going to do? You said yourself that we are here on vacation. Who cooks while on vacation?"

The light turned green and the car began to move again, "You sound like a child." Slade noted. Dick stared out the window at the pizza place as they slowly passed it.

"Come on, Slade, I'm sure you're sick of cooking. I know I'm sick of eating it."

To Dick's surprise, the man pulled over to the side, "You know what," Slade began, "I'm starting to think I prefer your brooding over your whining." He reached to the middle counsel of the car and opened it. He reached inside and withdrew a twenty dollar bill and handed it to Dick.

Slade unlocked the car door, "I have one last errand to run." He explained briefly, "Don't get into any trouble while I am gone. Another one of those trust exercises, understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Dick agreed as he climbed into the back seat. He withdrew a sweatshirt and a pair of sneakers. Quickly, he changed the shirt and shoes and tucked them into the suit case. He removed his utility belt and the mask over his eyes and replaced it with a pair of thin dark shades. Dick couldn't remember the last time he had pizza. Him and the team used to get it once a week. He couldn't remember how long he had been with Slade anymore.

Dick tussled his hair on his head, "What kind of errand are you running?" He asked.

"Negotiating a contract." Slade explained, "I have a few... frequent buyers in this area, if you will."

"Buyers? You mean the people who hire you to kill?"

"Yes."

It sent a chill down his spine, "What are you negotiating?"

"I am missing half of a payment for a previous job I had completed." Slade explained, "And I do not think you would like to be present for that conversation."

Dick was left with more questions than answers but he decided not to inquire any further. Slade was opening a can of worms that Dick wanted absolutely nothing to do with. Dick crawled back over into the front seat of the car before putting his hand on the handle and exiting the vehicle. He took a deep breath. He could smell cooked pizzas and grease from fryers. He felt his mouth pulling into a smile.

It had been awhile since he had been walking on foot across a busy intersection. People often recognized him and stopped him for pictures or took pictures of him from a distance, thinking Dick couldn't realize they were gawking at him. He pushed the glasses closer to his nose and looked at himself in the reflection of the pizza place windows. His hair was significantly longer than he usually kept it. He hardly recognized himself as Dick Grayson anymore. His muscles were stronger, hair was unkempt, and maybe he had grown an inch or two. He didn't love the look but at least he didn't look like Richard Grayson anymore.

He pushed the door open and a warm hair hit his skin, warmer than the air outside. The was a female cashier behind the counter with bright red hair. Dick took a glance at the menu before walking up to the counter.

"What can I order for you?" She asked him. Dick could hear a slight accent. He read the name tag: Kori.

"Can I order a large pizza with sausage and pepperoni?" Dick asked. He noticed a fridge behind her with two litter bottles of pop. Surely, Slade wouldn't mind soda as well, "And a two liter of root beer."

Kori nodded behind the register and type a few things into the machine, "It is $18.89."

Dick handed her the crumpled twenty dollar bill from his his balled up hand, "Uh, sorry." He said, trying to flatten it out before she took it from his hands.

"It is the alright." She said. She handed him back his change, "It will be ready in thirty minutes. You can have a seat over there."

"Gotcha. Thank you." Dick said. To his surprise, Kori laughed.

"You are not from here, yes?" Kori asked him, "You speak different."

"Oh." Dick let his guard down, "Yeah, I'm from the east coast. It's my first time in California."

Kori's eyes sparkled with excitement, "Oh how joyous!" She cheered. Dick raised an eyebrow at her curious choice of words, "California is the wonderful place!"

Dick smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to someone near is age, "Sweet!" He cheered back, "There any cool places to check out around here?"

"Oh, yes!" She walked from behind the counter and near Dick. She gestured for him to come to the window with her as she pointed, "A few blocks in this direction and there is the beach. People bring their dogs, it is most joyous thing to see. And that way." She pointed a different direction, "Is a cafe which sells the best coffee. It is called the Jitters. The drinks they serve are named after superheros."

"That's asterous."

Kori looked at him strangely, "What is the asterous you speak of?"

"You know... like the opposite of disaster. Instead of things going wrong they go right. So... aster."

"Oh." Kori said, "In that case, I am the aster!" She said cheerfully.

Dick laughed, "Yeah, you got it! Exactly!"

Kori reached out and pointed in one last direction, "And that way leads to the park and a museum. There is the free music once a week."

Dick grinned, "That's cool!" He said, "I'll have to check it out." Dick glanced at her, "I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name." he said, despite having read her nametag.

"My name is Kori." She responded.

"Kori." Dick repeated, "My name is Dick. Thanks for showing me around a bit."

"You are the welcome!"

-X-

Slade re-secured his mask on his face before exiting the vehicle. He was in a tight alleyway between apartments falling apart at the seams. It was a severely underdeveloped part of town. He went to the back of the car and removed two thin swords and strapped them to his back. He glanced at the buildings. It was the third building down on the fourth floor that he was after. There was a fire escape leading up to the target.

He made his way over and quietly scaled the fire escape until he was at the correct window. There was newspaper in the window placed over a thin layer of wood. The man living inside was named Michael Votollo and owed Slade a sum of money just shy of five hundred thousand dollars. He was a drug lord with a severe addiction to his merchandise, as well as taking out the competition. But he never had the nerve to pull the trigger himself. Slade pressed the side of his head against the window. He could hear scuffling on the other side.

Slade straightened up and drew his knee back to his chest before kicking in both the window and the plywood. The glass shattered around him, falling through the spaces in the fire escape and into the apartment. He kicked a few more times to completely remove the wood from the window before jumping inside. Across the room was the exit door, where a frightened Michael Votollo stood.

The apartment was empty, save for plastic bags, lighters, and syringes over the floor. Votollo had a bag in his hand that he dropped out of fright.

"Votollo."

"D-Deathstroke." He stuttered, "I... I wasn't expecting to see you until tonight."

"I was in the area," Slade responded, approaching Votollo slowly, "Figured I would stop by for a quick chat... before you skipped town."

Votollo hastily grabbed his bag, "I-I-I wasn't skipping town." He reached frantically for the doorknob behind him, "I-I was just-" He got the doorknob in his grasp. Quickly, he turned around and ripped the door open. Before he could step outside, the door slammed shut. Slade's heavy hand was pressed against the door.

"Now, what's the hurry?" Slade asked, "I just got here."

Hesitantly, the smaller man turned around, Slade's form casting a large shadow over him. He quickly stepped out from under Slade's arm. "I was... I-I" Votollo wiped sweat from his forehead, "I was just going to get your money, now."

"Ah." Slade mused, "You are three weeks late on your payment. You remember what I said should the payment be late."

"N-no. I-I-I can get the money." Votollo was stumbling behind Slade deeper into the room. He could escape through the window, "I will get the money, Deathstroke."

He fell to a knee but kept crawling towards the window. The glass cut up his pants and dug into his skin but Votollo kept inching away. Slade slowly followed behind him, watching the man writhe at his feet. Slade could tell he was on some kind of drug, which drug, he was uncertain. He withdrew one katana from over his shoulder and wielded it in his left hand. When Votollo got his hands on the windowsill, Slade grabbed him by the ankle and ripped him back into the room. Votollo yelled in pain.

"Where is my money, Votollo?" Slade kicked the man over and got down on a knee. He held the sword to the man's neck, "It is in your best interest not to lie to me."

Votollo shook below him, "I-I need some more time. Business has been slow."

"I'm afraid that's not my problem. Payment is due within three months after contract completion." Slade reminded him, "How much money do you owe me?"

"I-I-I..."

Slade pressed the blade against his throat and a thin line of blood came out, "How much, Votollo?"

The man was paled and did not respond to Slade. Against his neck, Slade applied some more pressure.

"Repeat after me." Slade said. "Five..."

"F-five." Votollo repeated.

"Hundred..." Slade continued.

"Hundred... Thousand." Votollo finished, "F-five hundred thousand."

"And how much of that do you have?"

Votollo tried to shake his head but the blade against his neck prevented him from doing so.

"What a pity." Slade said to him. He removed the sword and lowered it towards Votollo's abdomen. The man whimpered.

"Tell me, Votollo, what is stopping me from cutting into your body right now and taking your organs to sell, hmm? I'd have my money then." Slade pressed the blade into his skin. The man cried out as blood came from the wound. Slade pushed the blade in about an inch before stopping.

"P-please, Deathstroke." Votollo pleaded, "One more week, an-and I'll have your money. Please."

"You are lucky I am feeling generous today." Slade removed the sword from the man's stomach, "I'll give you one more week." Slade agreed. He shifted the sword into his right and and reached forward and grabbed Votollo's hand. Votollo gasped for his breath to come back.

"But this is for being three weeks overdue."

Slade took the blade and cut off three of the digits on Votollo's hand. The man screamed in agony before the fingers plopped onto the ground. He cradled his hand against his chest, crying and shaking in pain. Slade observed for a moment before standing up once more and headed back towards the window he had entered in. Votollo continued to scream behind him.

"One week, Votollo. I won't be so nice next time."

-X-

Dick peered out the window, waiting to see Slade's car come around again. He held the pizza on his lap and had the soda on the floor beside his foot. He couldn't help but ponder what Slade was doing. The man said he was owed money... Dick couldn't imagine being in financial debt to Deathstroke the Terminator.

Finally, the black vehicle came around the corner and pulled up across the street of the pizzeria. Dick stood up, tucking the soda underneath his arm, "Thanks for everything, Kori!" He said as he walked out. She smiled and gave him a wave before the door closed behind him. Dick cautiously crossed the street before he made it to the car. He opened the front passenger side of the car and got in. He put the soda at his feet and placed the box of pizza carefully on his lap securely before Slade drove forward. Dick looked Slade over, looking for any trace of... anything on the man.

"I hope you like root beer." Dick said cheekily.

"I don't think I've ever had root beer." Slade responded, "I did not grow up drinking soda."

"I mean, first things first, it's pop, not soda." Dick corrected him, "Secondly, how have you never had root beer? Everyone's tried it, even if they don't like it."

Slade chuckled, "I am afraid that ship sailed without me." Slade glanced out the window, "Did you check out any other buildings? I believe I saw some shops."

Dick gave him a quizzical look, "You only gave me twenty dollars. I'm not about to walk into a store without buying anything." Dick responded, "I stayed at the pizza place. There was a cashier working, her name was Kori. She was telling me about some of the places to visit in Jump."

"Oh? What places did she recommend?"

"There's a museum downtown and its next to a park that plays free music once a week." He counted on his fingers as he spoke, "And a coffee shop named Jitters, apparently they have coffees named after super heroes, like the Flash or Green Arrow."

"Hmm... I consider you to be a bit too young for coffee."

Dick laughed, "You don't know how many all-nighters I've had to pull."

"Don't children your age drink energy drinks? What is it called, Vampire?"

"It's called Monster." Dick corrected him, "And I'm trying to stay up to get my schoolwork done, not have a heart attack. I once had a teacher that drank two of those a day! She was..." Dick laughed to himself, "She was crazy."

"I can imagine." Slade added.

After they drove a few minutes, Dick spoke, "Did you get your money?" Dick hesitantly asked.

"Not yet."

"How much does he owe you?"

"Five hundred thousand." Slade responded.

Dick whistled to signify his shock at the large sum, "That's a lot of money." Dick stated, "How long does he get to pay it?"

"When I take on a contact, I expect half of the complete payment before the contract is completed. Once complete, I allow for a three month grace period to get the remainder of the payment. I work with large sums of money, which can take time to get into one place."

"So the guy hasn't paid you yet?"

"You are correct. The man, Votollo, is three weeks late on his final payment."

"Three weeks late?" Dick asked. He hesitated to continue speaking, "What happens when they pay late?"

Slade considered the question, "It varies on the client. If I consider the client reliable for money, I simply charge more, other times, more... intense measures are taken to ensure I get my payment."

"You tortured him." It wasn't a question, and Dick didn't want it to sound like one either. He shuttered at the idea of a man being tortured for money. He had seen far too many gruesome scenes in Gotham City, more than enough to last a lifetime. Again, he looked for any sign of blood on Slade's clothing but he couldn't see any. He looked at Slade face for any sign of remorse or second thought, but Dick could see nothing with his mask on.

"It was not nearly as bad as you might think." Slade told him, "It could have been far worse."

"I don't think he's as grateful as you think he should be."

"You'd be surprised," Slade told him, "However, this is the reality of my line of work. Those who hire me are made fully aware of the consequences of failure to hold up their end of the bargain. I, despite what you may believe, am a fair man. There are no tricks, no surprises, no loopholes. I am not an easy man to get a hold of, those who make it so far as to take up a contract with me know what they are getting into. Word spreads quickly."

Slade could still sense Dick's discontent, so he spoke once more, "Do not pity men like him, Dick. He made his own bed and chose to lie in it."

The silence came back between them. Dick wasn't sure he was hungry for the pizza anymore. However, he continued to stare out the window. They were going to the new Haunt and not back to Wintergreen's property. The reality almost saddened Dick. Having spent the two weeks in the small house was the most normal he had felt in a long time. A haunt was always cold and gave Dick an eerie feeling of being trapped underground in a labyrinth. Though, Dick considered that maybe this haunt would be more house-like than the one in Gotham City.

After a few more moments, they finally arrived at the new haunt. Dick made a note of the route they had taken to get here, on the off chance Dick was out on his own and needed to return without any guidance from Slade.

Once the car stopped, Dick hopped out of the vehicle with the pizza in one hand and the drink in the other, "I still can't believe we actually got pizza." Dick said.

Slade went to the trunk of the car and opened it. He removed Dick's suitcase in one hand and the green trunk in the other. Dick tucked the soda underneath his armpit and used his free hand to pull the trunk of the car down. He followed Slade into the haunt.

To Dick's dismay, the haunt appeared to be no different than the one in Gotham. The walls were the same color and everything had an identical, metallic feel to it. As boring as Slade's personality, Dick told himself.

Finally, they made it to the kitchen and Dick put the pizza and drink down on the counter top. He looked in cabinets for plates, only to realize there were none there. Curious, Dick opened up a few more cabinets, and they were all empty. Dick almost laughed, of course there would be nothing here.

"I have a few boxes of supplies back at Wintergreen's property." Slade explained, "We can go retrieve them tonight."

"Good thing we got food then," Dick noted, "I skipped breakfast this morning."

Dick opened the box of pizza and breathed deeply. It smelled amazing. Dick was certain there could have been and quality of pizza in this box and he still would have been just as excited. He grabbed a triangular slice and pulled it away from the rest of the pizza. The cheese pulled a few inches before releasing his slice. Dick held the slice of pizza in his hand and used his other hand to bring the pizza box to the kitchen table and sat down at it. He took a big bite of the slice in his hand.

"This pizza is awesome." Dick said with a grin. He spun the box around towards Slade, encouraging him to take a piece, "I think..." Dick started between bites, "I think this is the actual first nice thing you've done for me."

"Is that so?" Slade asked him. He removed his mask from his face and placed it on the table. After, he removed his gloves and grabbed a slice of pizza for himself, "I have done plenty of nice things for you."

Dick waved him off, "Pizza makes top three, though." Dick looked at him intensely, "Stop stalling and try it."

Slade took a bite of the pizza, "Interesting." He said, "Not quite what I remembered it tasting like."

"It's good isn't it?" Dick beamed, "Come on, try the root beer." He reached for the two liter of pop and twisted the lid slowly. The drink fizzed up a bit before settling back down. He fully removed the cap and pushed it towards Slade.

"We don't have glasses."

Dick rolled his eyes, "Fine." He said. He pulled the bottle towards himself and carefully poured the drink into the bottle's cap. Spilling a bit on the sides, Dick filled the cap as high as he could before presenting the small portion to Slade. Dick wiped the residue from drink on his shirt.

"Try that." Dick told him.

Slade took the bottle cap in his hands and took a drink from it. He immediately made a face, "That is... just awful." Slade stated, "You actually drink that?"

Dick's jaw dropped, "You're kidding!" Dick exclaimed, "Root beer is the best drink there is!"

"It tastes of black licorice and a cavity waiting to happen."

Dick shook his head, "Man, you don't know what you are missing." He brought the two liter close to himself and shrugged, "More for me then." He said before drinking straight from the bottle. Dick enjoyed every moment of it. Again, he couldn't remember how long it had been since he had a meal like this.

"Easy." Slade said, "I don't need you hopped up on sugar all night."

Dick waved him off and the to continued to eat their meal. A few minutes had passed and Dick was on his third slice of pizza.

"I've been thinking about what you said about a new name." Dick told him. "I'm not sure I want one but I'm thinking about it. I'm still Dick Grayson," Dick clarified, "I mean for when we are out in the field. I think I want to be known as more than just your apprentice, but I'm not sure I want to be known as Robin."

"That's fair." Slade told him. "Give it some thought. You might surprise yourself."

-X-

Woah holy chapter update Batman.

so I had Kori in this chapter, obviously inspired by Starfire. Just want to remind that there is no romance in this story and no Titans. Just needed a character and I think its fun to draw in characters from the DC universe instead of making an OC.

and PLEASE tell me in the reviews if you want Dick to have a different name in the field and then what you want that name to be. For some reason it always bothers me giving Dick different names but I don't think he wants to be known as Robin anymore. Provide any suggestions you might have, other than Nightwing, and it might make it into the story. Who knows.

Thanks for reading and thanks for hanging on to this story with me

Stay safe and stay healthy!

Azu