Content warning for non-consensual drugging, very brief mentions of suicide and discussions of trauma over the sudden loss of a family member.
AN: Thank you all for your patience. June is a really bad month for my family, so I try to take time away from the internet for my mental health. There are no dates on the section headers because this part works better if it's unclear about how much time has passed since the events of the last chapter, and also relative to each other section. Especially when it comes to Dick's part of the chapter. (Insert evil laughter here.)
Well, that's enough exposition. Enjoy the suffering.
Wally West
The Batcave
"Your plan makes no sense." Batman scrubbed a hand over his face before leveling a glare at the teenagers in front of him. Wally shifted under its intensity, but Miss Martian didn't budge.
"Dick told you himself; Deathstroke has been ten steps ahead the whole time. We have a lot of catching up to do if we want to stop him!" Megan threw her hands out to the side for emphasis. She looked exhausted and Wally was sure he didn't look much better. The last few days had been hell; it was bad enough that Dick was missing, but the Team still wasn't talking to either of them. Wally had told the few trustworthy Leaguers who would still listen to him everything he could think of, but between all the members of the Justice League, the reserve members and the Team, there wasn't a single sign of either Deathstroke or Robin. The Flash had kept him updated on the search, but it was clear from the permanent scowl on his uncle's face that he was furious with Wally for keeping this whole mess a secret in the first place.
It seemed like the only person who wasn't angry at him was Megan. A few months ago, he'd have been thrilled by that. Now, he just couldn't shake the memory of Artemis turning away from him back at the cave. Dick was gone, and now his girlfr- Artemis wouldn't even look at him, much less respond to any of the texts he'd sent her after agonizing over whether to give her space or beg for forgiveness. He'd settled on casual check-ins that she'd ignored, and he'd been beating himself over the head with it ever since.
The search for Dick had been useless, just like Wally knew it would be. Megan thought she had a chance of finding him if she could somehow get close enough to make psychic contact, but Wally knew it was hopeless even as he'd thrown himself into it. There was a chance they would get lucky, but if the last few months had taught him anything, it was that they had horrible luck.
That brought them back to hour two of trying to convince Batman that their insane plan was the only option to try and fix this mess.
"If we want to stop him, we need to find him." Batman countered venomously.
"The entire League is looking for him already." Wally reminded Batman, forcing himself to think about the plans he and Megan had been working on for weeks instead of the string of failures and dead ends. "They haven't found any leads and Deathstroke knows how we think. We'll probably never find them as long they're hiding. We have to wait for them to make a move. Or if Dick was able to leave a trail, we'll find them that way. But just finding him isn't going to be enough. Deathstroke has been planning for this moment for years. We have to be ready for anything and everything Deathstroke does to keep Dick under his control."
"Then why stage the confrontation? Nobody needs to know Dick is missing."
"You're not planning to report it?" Miss Martian demanded.
"It would have to be done eventually." Batman answered. Wally shook his head so hard his goggles fell onto his face. He pushed them back up with one hand, ignoring the sting as his hair got caught in the straps.
"You have to; the sooner the better. Reporting him as missing will limit their movement and make it harder for them to disappear again if we find anything. It will also limit the public appearances they make together, but if the whole world is looking for them, we might get lucky. We need to make it harder for Deathstroke to control the story and we need to try to do things he hasn't planned for. If you had your way, there wouldn't be anything linking Dick to this. So he probably won't be expecting this."
"He won't expect it because it's a ridiculous and pointless idea."
"No, it's not. We have to break the story while it's still under our control." Wally said.
"The problem is that as long as there's any mystery, Deathstroke can take advantage of it. If we start to get close, then Deathstroke can expose your secret identity and suddenly all the villains in the world will be out for your head. We'll lose the trail and your kids will be in danger again." Miss Martian explained for what felt like the thousandth time. Or maybe that was because they'd been secretly working on these plans for so long he could recite them backwards from memory in his sleep.
"I don't like this." Batman said.
"There's no other way. You can't pretend Dick is on vacation somewhere while you look for him; at some point people are going to start asking questions and it's going to look suspicious that you covered it up. Worse, if Renegade gets arrested, Dick goes down for whatever crimes Deathstroke made him do. And you'll have to prove to a court that he was forced to do it. But if the whole world knows Dick was kidnapped by an evil mercenary, then all you have to do is provide reasonable evidence that he was forced into crime by his captor." Wally said.
Batman's hands curled into fists. The scowl on his face did the impossible and got even angrier.
"Dick Grayson has nothing to do with this. Robin is the one that stole the chips and disappeared."
"He gave the suit back! This has never been about Robin. It's always been between Deathstroke and Dick. And just because Dick disappeared doesn't mean Robin has to."
"If you want to untangle this, the most important thing is protecting your secret identity." Miss Martian said quietly.
Batman slammed his fist down on the console and the bang made them both jump.
"The most important thing is finding my son and making that psychopath pay for everything he's done to him!" Batman roared.
"It's not enough to just find him!" Wally shouted back. "You found him at the Iceberg, remember? How did that go?"
"I didn't know what was really going on." Batman growled after a long pause. The anger in his voice meant Wally was on thin ice, but the hesitation meant he'd hit a nerve. They were wearing Batman down little by little.
"And you think you do now? Batman, Deathstroke is literally years ahead of you! He's already gotten what he wants and he'll do whatever it takes to keep it. If we want to stop him, we have to neutralize every single one of his advantages. Because as long as anyone he cares about is in danger, as long as he thinks he owes Deathstroke anything, Dick is never coming back. We have to get him to understand that it's safe, and when we do, we better mean it, or we'll lose him for good."
"Besides, as far as we know, Deathstroke still has those mind-control chips and we have no idea how they work or what he's planning to do with them. We need to find a way to defend ourselves against them or we'll be walking into a trap by going after him." Megan said.
"And how does framing Bruce Wayne as an incompetent moron accomplish any of that?!" Bruce thundered. Wally winced, choosing to ignore the incompetent moron part and instead trying to convince him the plan had actual merit.
"First, it absolves you of any involvement. Dick was scared of his siblings being taken away from you and put into the system. He said Jason had a criminal record and he was scared of him going to juvie. Deathstroke will drag your name through the mud to take the heat off himself. We need to make it big and public that you didn't know what was going on and that the kids are safer with you than anywhere else."
"We also need to protect him." Miss Martian said. "This wasn't our plan originally, but Robin stole the chips. Whoever planted them on the Watchtower knows he took them, and they're going to want them back pretty badly. If they find out that Robin went missing at the same time Dick Grayson disappeared, they're going to know who to blame."
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you announced Robin's identity to the whole League." Batman growled.
"Not the whole League. Just the trustworthy ones."
"How could you know that?"
Wally frowned.
"Megan read everyone's mind. Everyone who was present at the cave is honest and trustworthy."
"You did what?!"
"Deathstroke shot me because he found out I knew! There was no way I was risking another leak!"
Batman stopped. Silence hung in the Batcave as the Dark Knight looked at each of them in silent judgement. His gaze finally settled on Wally when he spoke.
"Dick told you who the mole was, didn't he?"
"Yeah." Wally felt his shoulders deflate, both at the admission and at the pain of another one of his closest friends hiding a terrible secret. If Robin was right, this was going to destroy Kaldur. "He thought it was Roy. It makes a lot of sense but I don't have any proof and after everything, there's no way I was going to accuse someone else of being a mole."
"You didn't want to upset Green Arrow."
"Or Kaldur. He took it so hard; I know he and Robin were really close. I didn't want to hurt him any more."
"And you didn't want to tip Roy off either." Batman dug in on the point, and Wally changed directions sharply. Both in terms of the conversation and in his nervous pacing across the cave.
"Look, you need to tell the whole League that you and Robin staged the theft. Make up a story about what happened at the Watchtower being a ploy; the important thing is that nobody besides the people who were in the cave can know that Robin's missing. If you make sure that there's enough evidence that Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson can't be Batman and Robin, no matter what Deathstroke tries to leak, your identities are safe."
"I don't like it."
"I know. But you have to understand, this is how it started."
"The…" Batman hesitated before forcing the word out like it was poisonous. "….apprenticeship?"
"Deathstroke saved his life when Dick was just a kid, and he believed him that it was quid-pro-quo. He would train with Deathstroke, in exchange, Deathstroke would protect his identity. When Dick tried to back out in October, that protection became a threat." Wally reminded him.
"We don't know what Deathstroke will do to keep Dick under his control but we need to take this chance to protect the vulnerabilities we know about. Especially when it comes to your kids. Dick was terrified that Deathstroke would hurt them."
"And we all know that Dick will do anything to keep them safe." Wally said.
Silence hung in the air.
"If we want to stop Deathstroke, we have to cover every single one of our weak spots." Miss Martian said.
"And we're going to find him. But it could take a while. I've made rounds all through Central, I've tried everything I could think of. Nobody has any idea where he is. He hasn't been hired for anything lately. It's like he dropped off the face of the planet. And considering how long he's had to plan this, he could stay hidden for a really long time. We need to be ready to strike when they show up again."
There was a long pause before Batman spoke again.
"Say we do all this. The whole world knows that Dick has been kidnapped by a dangerous unknown, Bruce Wayne didn't know anything about it and it has been decided that he's still a suitable guardian, and protective measures are taken to ensure that anyone who Deathstroke is likely to threaten stays safe. Then what?"
"If we get there, then we put all our energy into finding Dick. We have to make him understand that we thought of everything, that he can come home and it's really over."
"And how do you propose we deal with Deathstroke?"
Wally met his eyes darkly.
"You're Batman. You're the smartest man on the planet and you know Robin better than anyone. If anybody can figure out how to get him away from Deathstroke for good, it's you."
"What about Roy?" Miss Martian gasped suddenly, breaking the silence. "We didn't know Robin thought he was the mole when we made the plans."
"Shit." Wally swore, resuming his pacing as his brain raced to figure out how to get around this hurdle. "Roy knows his identity."
"So long as there is nothing tying Dick to Renegade, it should be manageable." Batman said, and it was clear that gears were beginning to turn in his head. "If the League is told that the incident on the Watchtower was part of my plan to remove the chips, then they'll be focusing their anger at me instead of suspicion towards Robin. It won't take more than a few staged appearances to make them think he's in Gotham with me. Especially with the Team temporarily disbanded so they have no reason to see him in person."
"I've been practicing. I can fill in for him as often as you need." Miss Martian offered. She did a better job hiding her flinch at the mention of the Team than Wally did.
"And if Roy gets suspicious about Dick's public disappearance, you can tell him that Dick is undercover."
"Hopefully, it won't come to that." Batman answered, turning to the Batcomputer and beginning to type furiously. "I'll call off the search for Robin. The two of you should go home. Get some sleep, I'll need you back here tomorrow to go over the revisions to your plan."
"We can stay and help." Wally offered.
"You already have." Batman said, ending the conversation as he lifted the lockdown and activated the cave's zeta beam. Wally and Megan looked at each other, before deciding that Batman looked like he really had it handled. Their job was to convince him to listen, and they were done. There wasn't anything left for them to do now.
"We'll be back whenever you need." Miss Martian said before disappearing into the zeta. That just left Wally alone in the cave with Batman and the sound of his hands flying over the keys.
"I'll run." Wally said. "If that's okay."
Batman grunted, powering down the zeta beam. Wally took that as confirmation. He headed upstairs to Wayne Manor, feeling better and somehow worse than he had in days. At least they had a plan to fix this, and Batman was working to fill in the gaps. But that didn't change the fact that somewhere, Dick was alone and completely at Deathstroke's mercy.
The manor was weirdly empty. He was used to screaming kids and constant interruptions anytime he and Dick tried playing Mario Kart. Instead, the whole place felt empty. Jason was sitting at the kitchen table, head slumped against the wall.
"Hey." Wally said quietly. Jason jumped, rubbing his face with his sleeve before looking over at him.
"Wally?" Jason asked, sitting up suddenly. "Did you guys find something?!"
"No."
Jason deflated, the air going out of his lungs like a punctured balloon.
"We're working on a plan, but it… it could be a while before we find anything." Wally tried to sound comforting. What exactly were you supposed to say to your missing best-friend's younger brother?
Jason didn't say anything, but he also didn't stop Wally from sitting at the table across from him.
"How are you holding up?" Wally asked.
Jason blinked.
"How am I… how am I holding up?" He repeated slowly, disbelieving.
"Uh…" Wally tried to backpedal, realizing that he'd stepped into a verbal beartrap.
"My brother is missing!" Jason roared, slamming his hands onto the table between them. "He's gone!"
"Jason, listen to me. We're going to find him. We're going to bring him home."
"You don't KNOW THAT!" Jason screamed, eyes filling with tears. "Don't lie to me! Don't you dare tell me that everything is going to be okay when it's not! Dick is gone!"
Jason cut himself off, curling in on himself with his arms clenched around his stomach.
"He's gone." He whispered, a single tear dripping down his face and splashing down onto the table. "I just want him back. I…"
Wally hesitated. Jason rubbed the tears off his face and sniffed once.
"It doesn't feel real," Jason said quietly, his voice raw. "Every day I wake up and I feel okay and then it just hits me all over again that he's really gone and I just… there's nothing I can do. And it just hurts so bad but there's nothing that makes it better. He's gone, Wally. He's not coming back.
"And Tim and Stephanie, they don't know how to deal with it. Tim thinks this is just a problem we can fix, and Steph, she's never lost anyone. They can't deal with this. Sooner or later they're going to figure out that they're never going to see him again and…" Jason's voice broke and he sobbed, "And I can't help them. That's all Dick ever wanted was for us to be happy and we can't even do that. He's gone and all I can think about is what he would have wanted if he'd still been here."
Jason slammed his hands on the table again, fury leaking out underneath the tears. "But guess what?! He didn't want to be dead either! He doesn't get a say anymore!"
Wally took a deep breath and puts his hands on Jason's shoulders.
"Jason, look at me. Look at me." He said forcefully.
Green eyes flicked up in a mixture of agony and resentment.
"Dick is not dead. Do you understand me? He's not. He's alive and we're going to find him."
Selina Kyle
Wayne Manor
"Stephanie?" Selina knocked softly on the door again. "It's dinner time."
There was no response from the little girl. Selina tried the doorknob but as she suspected, it was locked. Selina sighed heavily, resting her forehead against the doorframe. Stephanie hadn't come out of her room in days. Alfred had left meals outside the door, but they had been largely untouched.
She wouldn't let anyone in. Tim had gotten a few grunts from her, but that had been it. Bruce checked the manor's security cameras obsessively to ensure that she was actually still in her room and every time she disappeared from the frame, he had to be physically held back from breaking down the door. Every day that passed, Selina's heart sunk lower into her chest. He'd only been gone for a few days, but Dick's disappearance was quickly ripping his family apart.
Selina knocked on the door again even though she knew it was probably pointless.
"Stephanie, sweetheart, please come out. You need to eat."
"No!" A muffled voice called. At least she'd gotten a response.
"We'll bring you up something to eat."
She turned away from the door and began moving down the hallway towards the staircase. She grimaced as she passed Dick's closed door but kept moving. A sound came through the door and she stopped. Her hand closed slowly around the doorknob and eased it open. The sound got louder, so she steeled herself and pressed her way into the room.
Dick's room was neat but lived-in. His backpack still sat in front of his desk and his favorite green sweatshirt was strewn over the back of his chair. A pair of black sunglasses rested on top of a pile of textbooks, while his laptop was plugged in on top of the desk. Bruce hadn't gotten a chance to look through his files yet for anything useful on Deathstroke.
Judging by the state of his things, he hadn't been planning to leave. As much as it helped her to know that Dick hadn't meant to betray the League, the idea of him under Wilson's control made her furious in ways she couldn't ever begin to express. She would find Wilson one day and take out his other eye for ever messing with the people she cared about.
Selina turned towards the bed, immediately suspicious when she saw the sheets bunched together in the center. The sound was coming from inside it and she gently stretched out a hand. When it came into contact with the pile of blankets, the pile twitched and curled into a ball, letting out a sob.
"Tim?" Selina asked softly, seeing the short black hair poking through the tangle of blankets. The little boy continued to cry from underneath the mound and Selina's heart shattered. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes but she blinked them away. She sat down on the edge of the bed, gently resting her hand on Tim's back. When he didn't push her away, she started to rub circles soothingly into his back. She stayed like that for a few minutes, not saying anything.
There was really nothing she could say.
How could everything have gotten so messed up? A few months ago, she'd moved in with a man she loved and she'd let herself believe that it was a sign that good things were coming. Really, she had no one but herself to blame for being surprised that her entire life had gone to shit.
Gradually, the little boy's sobs began to subside and after a little while, she broke the silence.
"Tim, honey, it's dinnertime. We need to go eat."
To her shock, Tim suddenly threw his arms around her and shouted, "No! Don't leave me!"
He broke into tears again, harder than before.
"Everybody leaves me!" He wailed, tearing pouring down his face. Lines of mucus dripped from his nose and his eyes were bloodshot. Selina wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly.
"Oh, Timmy," she murmured sadly, "I'm not leaving you. I promise."
"It's my fault!" He cried, his face pressed into Selina's shirt. "It's my fault he's gone! He should be here instead of me!"
Selina put her hands on his shoulders firmly.
"No, Tim. Listen to me. None of this was your fault in any way. And we're going to find him and bring him home."
"But I…I want Dick back now!"
Selina held on to him as he cried. There was nothing else she could do.
Selina entered the Batcave to find Alfred sitting in front of the computer, resolutely focused on the video footage in front of him. As she got closer, Selina watched cars go speeding down I-94 in Metropolis.
"Cassie is sleeping in Tim's room tonight. Stephanie let me tuck her in, but she still hasn't said anything," Selina reported. Alfred nodded sharply, not moving his eyes off the screen.
"I fear that is simply a matter of time. There's nothing much we can do but wait," the elder man said sadly.
"Have you found anything?" Selina leaned on the back of his chair, trying to pick out any suspicious cars from the ones that zoomed past.
"I was able to identify the van that Master Dick entered upon his arrival through the zeta-beam." Alfred said. "Thus far, I have tracked it several miles along the interstate. It appears the van exited the freeway near the location where Robin's uniform was recovered. I cannot confirm whether or not Wilson changed vehicles, but I may be able to if I can track the van to its final destination."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I'm afraid not. But I appreciate the offer."
"Is Bruce back yet?"
Alfred nodded.
"The Batmobile returned a short while ago. I believe you'll find Master Bruce in the infirmary."
"Thank you." Selina squeezed Alfred's shoulder affectionately, then headed for the lower levels of the cave. Sure enough, Bruce was applying disinfectant to the cuts on his knuckles, his cowl pulled off and hanging at his back.
"How is it out there?"
"No worse than normal." Bruce grunted. "Falcone is getting bolder; his men are moving in on Freeze's territory while he's in Arkham. I need to keep them in check or it could be a turf war when he gets out."
"Great. Just what you need." Selina remarked sarcastically, picking up a roll of bandages and moving closer to help Bruce wrap his hands. The cuts and bruises looked a lot worse than a normal patrol; but then again, nothing about this situation was normal.
"Alfred told me Kid Flash and Miss Martian were back today." Selina used a piece of athletic tape to pin the bandage to the back of Bruce's hand and began wrapping his knuckles. The mention of Dick's friends felt bitter in her mouth.
"They've been persistent." Bruce answered. Something in his voice made her stop and turn to stare at him in disbelief. Bruce had told her everything that happened in the cave that day, how the two sidekicks had come forward to reveal not only that they'd known Dick was being blackmailed by their enemy, but that they'd come up with a truly ridiculous, outlandish, nonsensical plan to fix everything. Bruce had been outraged and beyond irriated when he'd originally told her their plan; now, his tone said that they had his full support.
"You're seriously considering their plan?" Selina demanded. "Weren't you the one who said it was a ridiculous risk to connect Bruce Wayne's name to Robin's disappearance?"
"I've had a few days to think about it, and I am able to admit that they have a more logical sense of perspective than I do. Wilson has been planning to steal Dick from me for a long time and his plans account for anything that Dick or I might try to do. Allowing outside influences to dictate our plans is a much better idea than anything I've tried to come up with."
"How can you trust them with something this important?!" Selina seethed, gesturing with the roll of bandages. "They knew that Dick was being blackmailed for months and didn't say a word to anyone!"
"Because Dick trusted them." Batman graveled in a low voice. "It has taken me too long to see the whole picture, but I understand how Wilson trapped Dick in his web. As long as there is a single thing that Wilson can use to control him, we will never be able to get Dick away from him."
"You're sure this is the story you want to go with?" Selina frowned, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back."
"But saying Wilson was his tutor?"
"It's the best option. Kid Flash and Miss Martian were thorough; neutralizing Wilson's leverage is the most important thing we can do. We are running out of time before we have to report Dick's disappearance. If we try to hide it, it could be disastrous if the press ever uncover Renegade's identity. And this story is as close to the truth as we can get."
"So let me get this straight: the world thinks Dick was kidnapped by his math tutor and you hope that nobody puts two and two together that he disappeared the same week Robin betrayed the League and disappeared?"
"No. Robin isn't going anywhere." Batman said, casually ignoring the impossibility of what he was saying. Selina blinked, then realized she was just staring at him.
"Bruce, what are you saying?"
"Wilson threatened to expose our secret identities as incentive for Dick to follow their agreement. We need to prove that they can't be the same people."
"They can't both disappear." Selina realized with dread pooling in her stomach. "Oh, Bruce, you can't! You know how much Robin means to him. Just imagine how badly Wilson could hurt him with the idea that you replaced him."
"There isn't a better way." Bruce said. "Believe me, I have tried to come up with any other way, but there isn't one. We can't find Dick or Wilson. The League has searched the entire globe, I have personally gone through every single known location, base, and contact Wilson has and not a single person knew anything. The last anyone heard of Deathstroke was at the Iceberg for his meeting with you. They're too well hidden, and as much as I despise it, we have to assume we won't find them until they make a move. We may only get one chance to end it. So we need to do everything we can to make sure we do not waste that chance."
"You're not looking for him anymore?"
"Of course I am. Selina, I'm doing everything I can to find him, but Wilson has been a step ahead for a long time."
"Okay. So we're being pragmatic, trying to cover all our bases. We pretend Robin was acting on your intel, and that he was right to suspect the chips were a setup. Meanwhile, Dick Grayson goes missing and Batman and Robin are seen by a lot of people interrogating Bruce Wayne about the disappearance. And while all of that is happening, we just hope that nobody notices Robin has been replaced?"
"Miss Martian will be impersonating Robin for the time being. Her disguise is impeccable."
"And what about the League? They've been looking for Robin for a week now, do you really expect them not to be suspicious at him suddenly turning up?"
"Robin will not be leaving Gotham. The League will be told that we're occupied for the foreseeable future. and that the last week has been part of a delicate covert operation."
"Alright. What about the chips? Do you know where they are?"
"Presumably, Deathstroke has them. I don't know what he's done with them. As far as we know, they're still a threat. The League will be told that my plan successfully got the chips off the Watchtower, but the Light's agents managed to ambush us and re-steal the case."
"It's flimsy."
"I'm aware."
"This is ridiculous! That League has a dozen magic-users, why can't any of them find him? Hell, why can't Superman find him? There's not much Spitcurl can't do."
"They're trying. The result has been one dead end after another. Like I said, Deathstroke has been planning this for a long time and he knows the League's capabilities as well as I do."
"How did everything get so messed up?" Selina muttered.
"Things have been messed up for a long time." Bruce answered. "The only difference is that now we know what's going on."
Selina nodded bitterly.
"While you're playing catch-up… it's my turn. Wilson might have been planning for everything you'd do, but there's something important he forgot." Selina flexed her hands, inspecting the still-perfect finish of her purple manicure. It had been too long since she last sharpened her claws.
"What?" Bruce asked warily.
"That you never, ever mess with a Gotham Rogue."
Dick Grayson
I've been drugged enough times that being in that weird half-dream, half-fuzzy flashes of awakeness is familiar. I know the eye-patch that leans over me, poking me and shining light in my eyes.
"I wan go home." I mutter, trying to pull myself away. My arms won't move. Pulling on them hurts. Slade laughs.
"I'm sure you do."
The room is bright. Every time I see it, it's the same. Slade is always there, always poking and poking in between the dreams. Batman is mad at me. He hates me. He tells me I'm not a bat anymore, but he won't listen to me when I tell him I'm not a bat. I'm a bird. I'm a Robin.
Batman stays mad. He doesn't even smile when it starts raining and all the streets flood and we can go skating on the ice. Or maybe he won't smile because it's a dream. Something's wrong with my dreams. I want to wake up.
I can't.
When I think I'm awake, it's all fuzzy and druggy. It happens so much. Slade pokes me and makes sure my heart is breathing and my breathing is beating and then stabs me with the drugs again and then Batman still won't go roller skating.
He's good at it. Doesn't he know it'll be fun? Why won't he listen to me?
He wasn't listening to me.
Now it's too late.
That's why he hates me. Not because it's a dream and my dreams are going wrong and everything is just dreams and more fuzziness in between. Batman hates me. I want to go home.
I want to wake up.
I hate this dream.
The walls are white and it smells like chemicals and my body feels fuzzy and I can't move. The beeping won't stop, and it gets angrier when I get more scared. I like when it slows, then I can drift back into the clouds filling my brain. I think that's the drugs. They make me sleep. Slade keeps poking me with sleep drugs.
Hey, that's a thought. I did it.
Maybe the fog is losing.
I hate this part. Once the drugs start to fade, I can fight them. But it's so much work and my head hurts. I can't let go of the thoughts. This is the most I've been able to think in… I don't know how long.
The white walls aren't a dream. I'm in some kind of med bay. There's a tube in my throat and breathing tubes in my nose and my wrists are cuffed to the bed.
My head pounds. The fog wins.
Time passes. At least I think it does.
I'm in a battle against my eyelids, using everything I have to keep them open.
Gravity wins.
Slade comes in.
"You're awake." He says. His voice sounds like gravel against my ears, and his footsteps echo on the floor like a horse walking on a floor horses aren't supposed to walk on.
"Lemmgo." I murmur around the tube in my mouth.
"I suppose awake is a relative term." He says, putting a tray down next to the bed and picking up something shiny. "I have good news for you. We're moving tonight. Your friends gave up on you and called off the search."
"Mfrinds comg."
"Your friends think you're a traitor. They hate you. They're not coming, Richard."
"Ywro… rong."
Slade pokes me with the drugs again and the fog hits hard.
"Sweet dreams."
I wake up to the world's worst headache. Also, my face is smushed. Everything hurts when I roll onto my back and my eyes decide to open.
I'm in… a living room. There's a coffee table and a pile of magazines and a vase with daffodils.
Where the hell I am?
I sit up and my head pounds like someone's whacking it with a mallet. I rub my eyes to try and get rid of the headache and when I see my hand, I do a double-take. My wrist is red and raw, and a flash of a white room comes back to me. I was tied down. Slade was drugging me.
I whip around, almost falling off the couch when I see the view behind me. Giant windows stretch from the floor to the fifteen-foot ceilings. I stand up, staring at the Empire State building and the New York City skyline around it.
Why am I in New York? What's going on?
I finally look down at myself to see the plain workout clothes and my stomach clenches. That's not right. I was Robin. I was wearing my uniform when Slade… the van. The chips.
The League thinks I'm a traitor!
Once the floodgates open, everything starts coming back to me. I got a message through to Wally, I talked to Batman, I tried to tell them it was a trap. And when I got off the Watchtower, all I wanted was to destroy the chips and then go back and tell them everything. And Slade didn't let me.
A wave of nausea rolls over me and I press my hand over my mouth to stop myself from vomiting. Not because I care about throwing up on Slade's carpet, but because my head already hurts like hell and throwing up would just make it worse. Slade said he'd give the chips back to the Light if I tried anything and then I practically threw myself at the door. He knocked me out, kept me drugged for god knows how long, and now there's no way to know what happened to the chips.
I don't know where Slade is, but I do know I need to find a way out of here. This place might look like a regular apartment, but there's no way it's going to be that easy. The living room opens into a kitchen, and there's a door and a hallway to the right. Before I can try the door, it opens. I jump when Slade walks in, wearing plainclothes instead of his usual armor with a black briefcase in his hand.
"Good. You're up."
I square my shoulders and glare at him.
"Let me go."
"You know, I had a feeling you'd say that." Slade snorts. He walks over to the kitchen and sets the briefcase down on the counter before pulling a glass out of a cabinet and filling it with water from the sink. I look over at the door and calculate how many seconds I'd have to charge through it.
"I wouldn't recommend that." Slade warns without looking over at me.
"Why not?"
Slade turns off the tap and put the glass down. Even in a casual t-shirt and pants, he looks every bit as dangerous as when he's wearing his armor.
"First of all, it's locked. Second, you're dehydrated enough to pass out before you make it to the stairs, even if you could get through it. Third, because as poor of a decision-maker as you can be at times, you're not stupid." He slides the glass of water over the counter separating us. "Here."
"No thanks." Instead of taking it, I cross my arms over my chest and keep glaring at him. The pounding headache makes the scowl more pronounced. Slade shrugs at me, unconcerned.
"Suit yourself."
"Where are we?"
Slade raises an eyebrow and points an uninterested finger at the window behind me. I don't turn around.
"That could be a screen." I tell him.
"If you think I would go to that much trouble to stage an apartment in New York, what makes you think I would tell you the truth about where we were?" Slade points out in the voice that makes me feel like a complete moron, and it pisses me off. Then his voice turns mocking. "But since I'm sure you're scared waking up in an unfamiliar place, I can assure you that it isn't a screen."
"Why are we in New York?"
"I debated between various bases and safehouses, but I thought you'd be more comfortable somewhere with windows over an underground bunker. After all, you're going to be here for a long time."
"You can't do this." My heart pounds in my chest.
"Please." Slade sounds amused.
"My friends are going to find me." I spit. "They're never going to stop until they do. And I don't care what you made him think, you're an idiot if you think Batman isn't going to come for me."
"It's not what I made him think." Slade grins. "It's what you told him."
"What are you talking about?"
"Batman found your suit. He's a paranoid man, it's not healthy. Any sane person would be appalled by the number of trackers in it, but we're well past that. He found your suit about half an hour after you left the Watchtower. And the note you left him."
"What note?"
"Here. I had a few copies made."
Slade pulls out a piece of paper and sets it down on the counter. My hands are shaking when I pick it up.
'I don't need this anymore so I figured I should probably give it back. I'm sorry you had to find out this way and I'm sorry I lied to you, but I knew you'd never understand. Thank you for everything and I'm sorry, but I'm not coming back.'
"I didn't write this." I mumble in shock, staring at my handwriting.
"You think I don't know dozens of forgers? Batman thinks you betrayed him. You told him so."
"It doesn't matter. He's still going to look for me."
"Oh he did. Led the charge at first, but even the World's Greatest Detective won't chase a cold trail forever. The search is over."
"How long was I out?" I demand.
"Two months." Slade answers. My stomach drops through the floor.
"Two months?!" I shout. "Are you serious?!"
"No. But that's all I'm going to tell you."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because whether you like it or not, you are my apprentice."
"You lied to me!" I spit, hands curling into fists.
"Does that really surprise you?" Slade asks. He sits on a stool, leaning his back against the counter as he laces his fingers together.
"We made a deal."
"If you want to quote deals at me, you should think back to our initial arrangement. The one that, if memory serves, you broke."
"You said we were partners! I work for you, and you leave me and my family alone! I held up my end of the deal! You can't do this!"
"You should have been clearer in your demands, Richard. In addition to providing you incredibly valuable information to pass along to your friends, I agreed to leave your family out of our business. Ironic, as I'm the reason your little ragtag bunch was assembled in the first place. However, your safe harbor under Wayne expired the minute you went back on our original deal."
Fuck. I'm so stupid. I should have stuck to my plan. At least then Batman would know I didn't betray him, he'd have some idea about how to find me. Before the hopelessness can take over, the anger steps in. Slade might have me backed into a corner but I'm not going down without a fight.
"Yeah? Well I clearly remember you agreeing to my terms that we were equals. You don't own me and you never will."
"Oh, Richard." Slade's voice is full of pity. "You can't possibly be that naïve."
"Fuck you."
Slade snorts.
"Would you like to know why I offered you a new deal?"
"I don't care."
"It's because you're idealistic. Noble. Trusting. There was one thing I truly meant that day. You did surprise me when you tried to sacrifice yourself. Do you have any idea how many of my plans you ruined?"
Hearing him admit that I ruined his plans is the first good thing that's happened since I woke up.
"You deserve it." I sneer.
"You were getting desperate. It was only a matter of time before you or your little speeder friend got chatty. Sacrificing a few pieces of information here and there was more than worth keeping you busy while I made new arrangements."
"Wait, that part was real?!"
"Yes. Take whatever comfort you'd like from the fact that you successfully ruined decades worth of the Light's plans."
My eyes narrow. And then they relax when that makes my headache a trillion times worse.
"Where are the chips?"
Slade nods his head at the briefcase on the counter.
"Take a look." He says. My hands shake as I reach for the latches and pull the case open. Inside a plexiglass box, looking as weird and deceptively harmless as ever, are the chips.
"Consider it incentive." Slade says. "You're clever, and I know I've taught you to be crafty. However, if you attempt to leave this building, I will deliver these chips right back into the Light's hands. And I assure you, they'll be delighted to have them back."
I freeze, glaring at Slade while my head spins. There has to be a way out of this. The League knows about the chips now, there must be something they can do to protect against them. I can't let Slade win this easily; he's not keeping me here.
I'm done working for him.
"You already used that threat, remember? If you were going to give them back, you'd have done it by now. 'Two months' should have been more than enough time, right?"
Slade smirks at me and my stomach sinks. He set a trap and I walked right into it. Again.
"Count them."
I do. There are twenty-eight. There were twenty-nine when I got off the Watchtower. I look up Slade with wide eyes. The smirk on his face makes an icy chill run down my spine.
"You gave them one."
"The Light has two chips in play." Slade says, and every word makes my stomach turn. "That's enough to cause a fair bit of trouble. Imagine how much damage they could do with a few more."
"What, so any time I do something you don't like, you throw them another one?" I try to make my voice sound angry, but I feel too sick for that and it's getting harder to fight against the terror building in my chest with every word Slade says.
"Oh, I don't expect you to behave yourself." Slade leans forward and I step back without meaning to. "I believe the next few years will be very challenging for the both of us. But I do expect you to understand the stakes. If you try to escape, the Light gets all of their chips back. Do you understand?"
My mouth is dry and my stomach is doing backflips, but I nod stiffly.
"Good. Then these are yours."
He closes the case and passes it to me, and all I can do is stare.
"What?"
"I figure it serves as a perfectly good reminder of the stakes at hand. Besides, you always did like having something to protect."
My grip on the case tightens.
"No. I'm done. I'm not working for you anymore." I glare up at Slade, bracing myself for the fist or a punch or kick or verbal assault that tears the world down around me for the hundredth time. Instead, Slade shrugs.
"That's fine. You don't have to and I won't force you."
"Then let me leave."
"I'm afraid not."
"Other than being an asshole, why not?"
"Because if you're not here as my student, then you are more than welcome to consider yourself my prisoner. Under those circumstances, you should be very grateful for the amenities I am allowing you."
"Amenities?!" I demand.
"Look around, Richard. You could at least show a little gratitude for your current accommodations. You know very well that it could be much worse."
"I hate you."
"I would be more surprised if you didn't. Are you going to try something foolish?"
"Like what?"
"Do you expect me to give you ideas?"
"Honestly, at this point, I'll settle for annoying the shit out of you."
"Very mature of you."
"Let me go, Slade. We had a deal."
"We did, and then we changed it. The current iteration of the deal says that I will not harm your loved ones, and in exchange, you will accept your role as my apprentice. Nowhere does it specify your right to return home."
"You're so full of shit!" I shout. "Don't pretend this is happening for any other reason than the fact that you're a psychopath with control issues!"
"Are you going to fight me?" Slade asks, sounding bored. I can see the tiny bit of tension in his shoulders that means he's ready for a fight. He expects me to lash out. Suddenly, it hits me that for all of his planning and tactics and evilness, he can't stand not being in control. That's what this is.
I can't help myself. I smile.
"Are you really that sore of a loser?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I beat you." I say, and my smile stretches even wider across my face out of delight. "I really beat you. You never thought I'd turn myself over… you've been scrambling to catch up ever since then. You hate the idea that you can't control me and all this is just you throwing a tantrum over it."
Slade snorts.
"Your attempts to bait me are adorable, I'll give you that. You don't give up, do you?"
"I don't hear you denying it."
"Allow me to disavow that notion. Keeping you here is simple logistics. You're hidden somewhere none of your friends will be able to find you. That means there's no rush. You stay locked away here until you come to your senses and agree to obey me. Meanwhile, I can continue my operations unobstructed."
"And when I break out?"
Slade laughs.
"I believe we've already established what will happen if you do. I'm sure there's only so much damaged a mind-controlled Justice League can do. And in case I forgot to mention, even if you do manage any sort of a disappearing act, I will find you. I don't think you'll particularly enjoy what will happen to you once I do."
"You're not going to hurt me, or else you would've done it already." I stick my chin out at him, trying to hold on to that brief moment where I was in control of the situation. Knowing why he's really doing this only helps so much when he's bigger, stronger, faster, and trying to make me suffer.
"There's a difference between discipline and punishment." Slade sounds amused. "You've behaved very well over these past few weeks. Despite what you might think, our relocation is a matter of practicality. Your attachment to your friends was becoming unmanageable. Here, there are no more distractions. Nothing to get in the way. You have the time you need to understand the fact that your only loyalty is to me. Here, you have the discipline you need."
The discipline I need? I do not want to know what he means by that. My heart starts pounding and my mouth goes dry as I take a step back.
"You're insane." I say. In the blink of an eye, Slade stands up and closes the distance between us, one hand closing around my neck in the same spot as when he attacked me in S.T.A.R. Labs.
"Of course, if your behavior warrants punishment, you'll have plenty of that too."
My heart starts pounding and I can't stop myself. The two things I know about New York City apartments jump into my head at the same time; they're full of people, and they have notoriously thin walls. That means someone will probably hear if I do this.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! CALL THE POLICE!" I scream.
The hand around my neck shoves me into the wall while his other hand presses over my mouth to cut off the sound. My head bangs against the wall and my vision goes fuzzy. The throbbing headache I woke up with comes roaring back and the room starts to spin.
"I wouldn't recommend that," Slade says. The hand covering my mouth moves away as reaches for his waistband, revealing the concealed gun at his hip. "I'd hate for any of our new neighbors to have an accident."
"Don't hurt them!" I rasp, wincing against the pain.
"If you're concerned about collateral damage, then I'd advise against drawing any unwanted attention. Do you understand?"
"Fine!"
"What was that?" Slade growls dangerously.
"Yes! I understand!"
I let out a strangled sound as the grip on my neck tightens and Slade leans in. My hands reach up to claw at his hand before the dark spots in my vision take over.
"I shouldn't have to remind you that I expect you to address me with respect when you speak to me. Do you understand me, Richard?"
"Yes! Yes sir!" I force out, the words being mangled by the lack of oxygen. Slade releases his grip and steps away. I stumble as the headache throbs again and I have to hold onto the wall to stop myself from falling over.
"You need some time to recover from the drugs in your system, as well as the shock of the adjustment phase. Tomorrow, I'll explain the ground rules and expectations. For now, there's food in the fridge, I've left you a few books and magazines to keep you occupied, and your room is the last door at the end of the hall. I'll see you then."
Slade strides to the door, and I hear a loud beep before a heavy electronic lock opens. Halfway through the door, Slade turns back.
"I will only say this once; if you ever attempt to escape, I will personally wipe your pathetic family of the face of this planet."
I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself against the wall.
"Sleep well."
The door locks behind him with the ominous click of a very heavy deadbolt.
The new room Slade so graciously gave me has a hardwood floor and an actual window that looks out over other apartment buildings. It's definitely a step-up from the all-gray underground bunker, but there's no way in hell I'll ever admit it.
The rest of the room is pretty empty; there's a dresser under the window and basically nothing else. There's a tiny bathroom in the back, just a toilet, a sink and a mirror. The back wall has a built-in closet, but when I open it, it's totally empty. I lean back against the headboard of the bed, staring at the white ceiling.
Slade was lying about keeping me unconscious for two months. I know he was. He had to be. But there's no way to know how long I was really out.
What happened with the League? Did they find a way to neutralize the chips? Did they ever find out that Roy tried to steal the chips first? Does the League know what I've done?
Does Batman?
Did he really give up on the search?
Why didn't I tell him the truth sooner?! He would've been angry, probably furious. But at least he would have found out from me and not from Slade's manipulations. That fake note must have killed him; he thinks I betrayed him. He's never going to forgive me for any of this.
Will he even look for me? He knows I've been working for Slade, it's only a matter of time before he finds out what else I've done. He'll know I'm not worth saving.
My heart throbs painfully and I dig my fingers into the white sheets.
I just want to go home. I want this to be another drug-induced dream that I can just wake up from. But it will never happen.
I'm Slade's prisoner now. I refuse to call myself his apprentice; I'm done working for him and there's nothing in he can do to me to change that. But there's no way out. He said the next few years would be challenging. This can't go on that long, right? For a second, I imagine myself at eighteen, still wearing Slade's colors and obeying his every word. The thought makes something inside me shrivel up and die.
I won't let that happen. I'm going to find a way out; I refuse to be Slade's puppet for the rest of my life.
I glance at the window. The bright blue sky is cruel and mocking, inviting me to enjoy the beautiful day as if I wasn't locked up in here. I stand, walking slowly over to the window. There's no latch for the window. I guess Slade doesn't want me getting any fresh air.
The light brown building across the street is within range of a grappling hook, but even if I had one, there aren't any ledges or sharp corners in the brickwork for the hook to latch onto. There's no fire escape outside the window either, just nine stories' worth of apartments. I stare down at the pavement where cars and people scuttle around like ants. If I ever get desperate enough, I can break the window and jump out.
A nine-story fall to my death. Memories flash before my eyes, and all I can see is the way my mother's outstretched arms grabbed at empty air, the way my parents' eyes widened in terror, the way that trapeze lines stretched taut before whipping through space. If they could see me now, what would they think? Would they hate me too? Would my mom ever be able to look at me with pride instead of disgust at what her little robin had become?
Robin. My mom called me Robin and I used that name to make the world a better place. But now? Robin is gone.
I push myself away from the window and collapse onto the bed, letting tears drip down my face.
This is real.
I turn over, finally tearing myself away from the window to stare at the door.
This is my life now.
This can't be real.
I just want to go home, but it's not like I have much of a home to go back to.
Slade gave the Robin uniform back. He left Bruce a note that as good as shouted, "I betrayed you, I can't believe how stupid you were for ever trusting me." I broke onto the Watchtower! They all think I tried to kill the League. Those stupid chips ruined everything! I never should have trusted Slade. How stupid am I for actually believing him? I knew I should have stuck to my plan, I knew I couldn't trust him and I still fell for his trap. If I hadn't been so stupid, none of this would have happened.
Well, Batman would at least know the truth. I'd still be locked up in an underground bunker somewhere. Or maybe I'd be locked in this exact room. The only difference is that I would know Batman was coming for me. That Wally was coming for me.
I'm such an idiot. I'm a horrible person. How could I have treated my friends like that? They were just trying to help me; they were the only ones trying to help me and I threatened them and lied to them. They can't help me though. I did what I had to do to keep them safe. And as long as I don't try to escape, Slade won't give any more of the chips to the Light. For now, the League and my friends are safe.
They're safe.
Slade doesn't have a reason to hurt them ever again. He has what he wants, so he'll leave them alone. If they think I betrayed them, they won't try to rescue me. They'll really be safe.
That's all that matters.
No matter what Slade does to me, I can handle it if it keeps everyone safe.
AN: Poor Dick. Poor everyone, really.
After the last chapter, I got a bunch of messages from people who said they didn't get M'gann and Wally's plan at all, and I hope this cleared up some of it for you. Slade knew the League would be intensely hunting for Dick, what better way to ensure they wouldn't find him than to keep him unconscious until the search died out? If the League wants to stop Slade and really get Dick away from him, they're going to have to be creative and do some things Slade would never expect.
Thank you again for your patience and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Up next, the world finds out that fourteen-year-old son of a billionaire has been kidnapped, and it turns out Batman isn't the only one who's suspicious about it. For what it's worth, Dick isn't enjoying himself very much either.
If you're enjoying this story, be sure to leave me a review and let me know! It always makes my day to hear from you and hear what you think!