This was a chapter to edit, let me tell you, made some major tone changes. Hope it worked out all right :)

Chapter 4~ Broken Inside

Nightwing's POV

I came to slowly, pain like a dull fire burning at the edges of my consciousness. My memory was hazy so I took stock of my situation slowly, without moving to start. I was tied at the ankles and wrists to a chair, arms pulled harsh behind the chair and stripped of my gauntlet and gloves. I barely opened my eyes, keeping the facade of unconsciousness as I attempted to take in the darkened room. As far as I could tell the walls were plain and unmarked and the chair and I were the only things in the room. There was little I could do but wait for more information.

"It's about time you woke up, I was beginning to think I might've gone too hard on you." The voice came from my left and my head snapped there instinctively, pain retaliating like a knife to my brain. There's a dark chuckle as Deathstroke stepped into view, using two fingers to lift my chin up to his gaze. I glare the best I can, feeling the caked blood come off my face with his touch. "You seemed to have gotten a nasty concussion."

"Yeah, wonder who could've caused that," I replied sarcastically, trying to pull my chin away. His fingers tightened, hard enough to hold me in place but not enough to hurt, yet.

"Trying to blame me?"

"You are the one who bashed my head against a rock, so yeah." Deathstroke made a tsk sound and pushed my face away as he withdrew, wiping the dried blood flecks on his suit.

"The Nightwing I remember would've put up more of a fight." Deathstroke mused, walking a slow circle around my chair. I resisted the urge to try and watch him move, instead of listening to his steps. "Or, injured as you were, called for help. But you were alone, and after such a great victory?" He stopped behind me. "Seems to me you were cast aside after your use was up, like a broken puppet." He leaned close to my ear to whisper that, chillingly calm.

"I left on my own volition." He retreated, resuming his slow circle.

"You were abandoned, anyone could see you were in no condition to be left alone. An easy target." He rounded back to the front and looked at me with mock pity in his visible eye. "The Light wanted me to kill you, in revenge, but I didn't expect it to be so easy."

"So why am I still alive then?" A smile slid over the mercenary's face, smooth as glass.

"The million-dollar question isn't it." A knock sounded at the door and Deathstroke leaned to open it, the light momentarily blinding me. "I thought it'd be a waste to just throw away such potential, so why not just… repurpose it." The spots in my vision cleared as the new arrival lowered his hood, pallid skin, and visible brain unmistakable. Psimon.

I let out a laugh, hopefully more convincing than I felt. "He's tried to before and failed. You're a fool if you think I'll let him make me your toy." Deathstroke's smile doesn't waver and Psimon stepped closer, setting a hand to my forehead and pushing against my mind. I bring up my mental barriers as practiced, shutting out his presence best I could despite the mounting pain from my already hurting head.

When he pulled away I tried to suppress my shaking, sweat rolling down my face. A concussion made the ordeal more difficult but at least my mind was safe. I spit blood at his feet, having bit my tongue during the struggle.

"It'll take more than that for me to crack, bastard." Deathstroke looked unperturbed pulling a remote from his pocket.

"Oh, I was counting on that." He stepped forward to rip the mask from my face. "You won't be needing this anymore." Then he nodded to Psimon before pressing the button on the remote. I'm unprepared for the sudden jolt of electricity through the chair, alighting my nerves. I'm unable to hold back a scream and Psimon took the opportunity to dive back into my mind. I tried to raise defenses against the attack but mingled with the electricity jolting through my veins it was becoming more and more difficult to mount a defense, snippets of my life being snatched away and rewritten by the psychic. I was slowly losing pieces of myself, coupled with the coursing pain there was little I could do.

Instead of trying to fight Psimon off I focused on my most important memories, the secret identities of my team and family, my past, and tried to weave all my defenses around them, burying it so deeply in my mind even I wouldn't be able to access it. Psimon's mind pushed deeper into mine, shredding everything in its path and the pain of it all threatened to swallow me. My last thought was of a team I barely remembered, hoping they'd be okay without me.

Deathstroke's POV

It took several hours for the telepath to leave Nightwing's room, the boy's screaming stopping much earlier when the need for electricity had faded. "How'd it go?"

"His mind was resilient, no doubt from training with the Martian." Psimon answered, pulling his hood back over his head. "However, I think you'll be happy with my work." I feel a surge of satisfaction at his words.

"And the identities?"

"Lost, he managed to rid himself of that information before I could get to them. But if they are still in there they'd be buried too deeply for him to access alone, if at all." I content myself with that, having heard enough of the man's lectures on the complexities of the mind when I first hatched this plan.

"I expect you to stay out of trouble, should there be any further need for your services." Psimon smiled and bowed with a hand crossed over his chest. "Your payment will be with Wintergreen on your way out." He nodded and I ducked into the room, looking down at my new apprentice. He stirred as I entered, managing to withhold any sounds of pain from what he was facing.

"How are you feeling, apprentice?" Blue eyes looked up at me, bright like sapphires and clouded with confusion.

"I… I'm afraid I don't remember much. Wait happened…" He paused for a moment, seeming to fight over his next words. But Psimon's conditioning won out. "Master?" I feel a swell of victory but I hide it under a veneer of concern.

"You were badly injured by the heroes, but don't worry. I'm here to help you heal and soon we will continue your training." He nodded and I caught away his bonds, giving the young former hero a hand to his feet. "Do you remember your codename?" He thought for a moment, flexing his hands to return the feeling to them.

"It's… Renegade." I smiled and clapped him gently on the back. Things were looking very good, very good indeed.

:)

~Fate