Die a Hero

by J. B. Fawling

Robin is the Boy Wonder, Batman's protegee, member of the "Junior Justice League" and kickass superhero. Dick Grayson is the adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, brother to four younger siblings, math whiz-kid, community service volunteer and all-around Golden Child. It's everything he ever wanted to be. Too bad he's also a liar, a thief and a secret mercenary-in-training.

44. The Cabin in the Woods

Well, it's December. And that means we've almost made it through this insane year. I want to take a second and thank you all so much for reading and supporting this story, your reviews are absolutely wonderful and it makes me so happy you're enjoying it. I adore reading your comments and they really motivate me to keep writing so I can put out really long, satisfying chapters.

That being said, there have been a lot of "please update/update soon" comments that are incredibly demoralizing.

I know you want me to update. I want me to update. But I'm currently a PhD student with a part-time job on top of that during a pandemic and I don't have a lot of free time to write. Comments that tell me how much you're enjoying the story, details you've noticed or theories you have about what's coming next are the absolute most wonderful thing in the world and I can guarantee you that every time I get one of those, I open up the next chapter and start typing like an insane person. When I get a "why haven't you updated?" comment, I don't touch my computer for the rest of the week. If you're dying for an update, please try to remember that I am doing my best and trying to write a really high-quality story for you all to enjoy before asking why I haven't posted yet.

Thank you all again for your support. I'm absolutely thrilled with how this chapter turned out and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! On with the story!

---

Dick Grayson

The cabin in the woods

---

When I wake up, I have no idea where I am.

Honestly, it says a lot about how messed up my life is that waking up in a weird room has become such a regular occurrence. Compared to that first day when I woke up on the couch in New York after Slade kept me drugged and unconscious for god-knows how long, this is nice. This is really nice.

It takes me a couple of seconds of staring at the logs and rough-hewn wooden walls before the last few days come back to me. The hike from the woods to the cabin is a blur, and I really, truly do not ever want to think about the fact that Slade made me hold a loaded gun to his head because there is way too much for me to deal with there, but I remember that Slade gave me a bowl of… something, and then pointed me to a room before I crashed.

I have no idea what time it is, but it feels like I just slept for an entire day.

It feels…amazing. Well, it feels amazing to not be exhausted; the rest of my body hurts like I ran a marathon. Mostly just my feet and my back so I think I'll survive, but only if I can get past the shock.

Slade gave me the key to the safehouse. It's still sitting right there on the side table exactly where I left it.

This is real.

I did it. I really did it.

There's a small duffle bag by the bed and there's enough of my clothes for a few days. I don't… I don't really want to think about what it means that Slade had this ready. So instead of thinking about that, I sling the bag over my shoulder and head for the bathroom.

Taking a shower without having to time it is lifechanging. Betraying my family is almost worth it if it means Slade's going to let me have more than five minutes of water. Washing all the dirt, sweat and grime off is amazing on its own, but being able to just let hot water pour over my head? This might be the best thing that's ever happened to me.

By the time I dry off, brush my teeth (with toothpaste that doesn't even taste like it's from an army surplus store!), and put on clean clothes, I feel like an entirely new person.

No.

I just feel like a person again.

Slade is sitting in worn red armchair in the living room, looking as relaxed as I've ever seen him while he reads through a thick book. He inclines his head at me when I walk in, but other than that, he doesn't acknowledge me.

"What time is it?" I ask. There's no sign of a clock anywhere and I hate being disoriented.

"Quarter of eleven."

I blink. For the last three months, Slade's been making me get up before six in the morning. The idea of him letting me actually sleep in is ridiculous enough that I almost laugh. Now there's a bad idea.

Instead of doing something that might piss him off, I say, "You never let me sleep that late."

"Yesterday, I put you through an extremely intense situation on three hours of sleep. Your body needed a chance to recuperate." Slade says, paging through his book. "Don't get used to it."

That's more like it. I look around the living room, taking in the rustic furniture, the homey decorations, and the pictures on the mantle. I hesitate before picking up one of the photographs. There's a man and a woman with their arms slung around each other, holding a baby in between them. It's a cute baby but the man doesn't look anything like Slade. Plus, he has two eyes.

"Who are they?" I ask, still staring at the photo.

"Not a clue. This cabin is a rental."

"Oh. So… are we staying here now?" I ask slowly. Slade looks up and I flinch, scared that I asked something I shouldn't.

"Only for a few days." Slade pauses. "This is a good opportunity to train for extreme survival situations. You'll also benefit from some sunlight."

I blink at him.

"Slade are we… on vacation?"

"That depends. Do you consider spending several days in the wilderness attempting to survive off the land and keep yourself alive despite the elements to be a relaxing break?"

I think about it for a second and honestly, I've done worse. Especially considering the last few months of being cooped up inside the apartment, stuck staring out at the world like a fish in an aquarium and wishing that I could go outside more than anything in the world. I'll take a few days of survival training. And if Slade isn't going to actively be trying to kill me, then this will absolutely be the least stressful thing I've done this entire year.

"I mean… kind of."

"Then I suppose this is a vacation." Slade looks amused for the few seconds it takes him to pretend he's not. "There's a sandwich for you in the kitchen, feel free to amuse yourself for the rest of the day. There should be some books around here somewhere if you're interested. Any questions?"

"Can I go outside?"

"You don't need to ask. Just be back inside before eight."

"Uh… how will I—"

Slade tosses me something and when I catch it, I'm holding a watch. My heart catches in my throat; it's nothing fancy, but it's a real watch that really keeps track of time. I stare at Slade, waiting for the hammer to fall or the other shoe to drop but he doesn't say anything. He just inclines his head as he meets my gaze.

"Thank you." My voice is quiet and I can't tear my eyes away even as my hands tighten around the watch band.

"Don't lose it. I'm not getting you another one if you do." Slade says, but I can hear the unsaid, "You're welcome."

---

It's beautiful outside. I love trees. I love grass. I love the sky. I love not being stuck inside an apartment building that's a glorified prison cell, or handcuffed to the seat of a car for six hours straight. This is amazing.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to take it for granted again.

Walking through the woods is infinitely more fun when you're taking an easy stroll around the property than marching for hours and hours on end without any clue of where you are or where you're going or what's going to happen when you stop. That is not fun.

But this? This is everything I've been dreaming of through months and months of isolation and being trapped inside the same walls day after day. Fresh air and sunlight with only a little bit of wind chill. I think it's March, but it gets hard to tell. If it is March, it's a stunning day.

Blue sky, clouds, sunlight, plenty of trees in every direction. Nowhere to go and nowhere I have to be.

It's incredible.

A gunshot goes off in the direction of the safehouse and the spell breaks, the calm disintegrating into panic.

What the hell was that?!

I freeze for a second, then I'm sprinting back in that direction as fast as my legs will take me. My heart pounds and my head spins. What if someone found us? What if Slade killed them? What if it was the police? What if it wasn't?!

It takes way too long for the cabin to come back into view once I'm out of the woods and another crack fills the air before I can see anything.

When I can see, my feet stumble to a halt.

Oh.

There's a shooting range set up in the clearing behind the cabin and Slade is staring down the barrel of a very large rifle. He puts the gun down, pulling the protective headgear off and glancing over at me with the casual ease of someone who wasn't expecting to see me but isn't surprised either.

"You didn't go very far. I expected you to be halfway back to the car by now." Any other time, I'd think Slade was trying to rile me up but now, I let the words roll off my back. He's just teasing me anyways. At least… I think he is.

"What are you doing?" I ask, sticking my hands into the pockets of my jeans so Slade can't see how badly they're shaking. My heart is going a billion beats a second and my lungs are burning.

"Target practice." Slade reloads the rifle, hands moving so fast I can barely follow the motions. So I don't try to. Instead, I point to an old picnic table, where almost an entire armory has been set up on top of the rotting wood.

"What's all that for?"

"Routine maintenance.

"Oh." I say, relieved.

"What did you think they were for?"

"…hunting?" I offer weakly. Slade glances over at me and raises an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

"Would you like to go hunting?"

"No." I answer honestly, trying not to sound scared. Slade's been… nice since we got here, but he made me hold a gun to his head yesterday. I'm not taking any chances.

"That's what I assumed."

I take a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs again. Slade turns back to the range and gets back to target practice. The gunshot is deafening as it cracks through the air and I wince. I could go back to my walk, but instead I grab the other pair of earmuffs off the table and settle on the ground to watch Slade shoot.

He's insanely good at it. Just because I hate guns doesn't mean that I can't appreciate skill. Slade switches weapons a few times, cycling through a shotgun, another pair of rifles and a few different pistols. His aim is just as deadly and precise with all of them.

He reloads the pistol in his hand so fast I can't see him do it and empties the magazine into the target, forming a near-perfect circle. I can feel myself staring, which means Slade definitely notices it when he turns around and gestures for me to take my headgear off.

"Do you have any experience tracking?" He asks. I blink.

"IP addresses or Riddler clues?"

"At least your sense of humor is intact." Slade shakes his head, looking much less annoyed than he sounds. "Do I need to remind you to take this seriously?"

"Sorry. I am taking it seriously. And yes, I do."

Slade probably won't count tracking down the League's tech in the middle of the Bialyan desert since technically I had GPS, but I definitely deserve points for it. Being memory-wiped in the middle of the desert with a few protein bars and nowhere near enough water sucked.

Besides, there was that time Batman and I got stranded on a private island with a rich millionaire big-game hunter trying to beat us in "the most dangerous game". I bet Slade's never had to track down someone who's actively trying to kill him while avoiding death traps and giant robotic hunting dogs, all while laying a fake trail to lead him into another trap. That General Zarroff-wannabe was completely wrong though. Hunting people for sport has nothing on Knife Monopoly.

What is my life?

"Good. Starting tomorrow morning, you have until sundown to find me."

My stomach tightens.

"What happens if I don't?"

"Then we have additional training sessions beginning at 4:30 in the morning for the rest of the week."

"Oh." I breathe, the fear in my stomach fading. Slade said I earned his trust, but it's not going to be that easy to stop expecting him to hurt me. "Wait, 4:30?! Are you serious?"

"You do your best work when you have enough incentive to succeed."

I exhale, forcing the tension out of my shoulders.

"Fine. What else do I need to know?"

"I expect that this will be a challenge for you… but you finally have a chance to prove that you're as adept at certain skills as you claim to be."

---

Slade is gone by the time I wake up. My plan to wake up before he left and follow him went out the window as soon as I realized I don't have a way to wake myself up. There's no alarm clock in here, nothing to keep time but the analogue watch Slade gave me. My iPod has an alarm but it's back in New York.

I check my watch and it's just after seven. The safehouse is empty and suddenly, the plan to try and track Slade down in the woods is… less than appealing. I should go out and try to find him. That's what Slade said I had to do.

But Slade's not here. He's not going to know the difference if I try to track him down and fail, or if I just never leave the safehouse at all.

There's a couple ways this could go. Slade might be out in the woods and I might have a real chance to track him down. Or, this whole thing might be rigged and there's no chance I'll find him even if I spent all day outside burying my face in the dirt to pick up his trail. And, of course, the last one is that Slade never left and is testing me to see if I'm going to start snooping around the instant he leaves me alone.

That last one seems like exactly the kind of thing Slade would do.

I can't risk that.

He'll know if I never leave the cabin. There's no way he won't. Even if he actually did trust me, there's no way he wouldn't have safeguards.

Spending all day snooping around the cabin is a terrible idea. Because Slade isn't that careless, even if he was being serious when he said he trusted me. He said I have until sundown to find him, that means I'll be outside for a few hours. I'll need to eat enough food now that I don't need to stop and come back to the cabin, and I'll definitely need water.

For all I know, Slade has a huge head start. I need to be able to move fast and have enough supplies with me that I can keep moving all day if I have to. One of the backpacks from the hike a few days ago is still sitting in the main room with the original supplies inside. I pull out the binoculars and the tent, and that's when I notice a folded hunting knife at the bottom of the bag. I check the very sharp blade before folding it up and sticking it in my pocket. That could definitely come in handy.

There's not much in the kitchen but I dig out a few granola bars from the pantry and fill a few empty bottles with clean water. I can't take too much more or the bag is going to get heavy, but this should be good enough. There's a container of bug spray on the end table next to the couch, and I hesitate for a second before grabbing it. You never know what you need to be prepared for. It's chilly outside, but I should be warm enough if I keep moving. That's one of the only things that might be in my favor; Slade won't stay in one spot if it's too cold. And as long as he's moving, there might be a trail I can follow.

I head for the woods… and I don't see anything. They literally just look like trees. There are impressions in the grass, but I know for a fact that I left at least half of them when I was walking around yesterday.

Okay. Focus. I can do this.

Besides, worst comes to worst, waking up at 4:30 isn't the worst thing I've ever had to. Not by a long shot. I've got this.

---

Okay. I take it back. It's been almost five hours and I am losing my mind. I've been in this clearing twice already; I even marked that exact tree with an 'x' after the second time I passed through. Someone has been through this spot, and I'm positive that branch on the ground with the red leaves wasn't broken last time.

I found a trail; big depressions in the mud left by someone heavy who was moving quickly, with a trail of broken sticks and twigs interspersed with the footsteps. I followed it for half an hour and ended up right back in the same clearing. And then there was a new trail that led in a different direction. One that definitely wasn't there the first time.

So I followed that one, and the stupid thing led me right back here.

Slade's messing with me.

Wait a second.

Slade's messing with me.

He's probably been messing with me this entire time. He said I had to find him; he never said anything about how far away he'd be.

"I know you're here." I announce to the empty woods, scanning through the dense treeline to try and find the figure that has to be out there. "You said I had until sundown to find you, I found you. Is that good enough or do I have to prove it?"

I hear leaves rustle and I whip around, only to find a gun pointed at my head. On instinct, I throw myself out of the way and that's when the fight starts. I scoop a few rocks off the ground, chucking them at Slade so he has to either bat them away or let his visibility be impaired. While he's distracted, I rush forward to try to disarm him.

It doesn't work.

Slade is faster, fast enough to turn his wrist over before I can knock the weapon away. He moves with the motion, letting me overcommit before swinging his fist back at my head. The barrel of the gun nearly slams into my temple and I barely get a hand up in time to block.

The force of the hit makes my palm burn but I can't let that slow me down.

I grab Slade's wrist to anchor myself before whipping my leg around in a hook-kick that catches Slade in the face.

Or at least, it's supposed to. Instead, Slade uses the hand on his wrist as a pivot point to throw me to the ground. My back hits the dirt, the wind flying out of my lungs. I roll out of the way before Slade's foot lands on my chest.

I barely have time to get back on my feet—let alone catch my breath—before Slade is charging. We exchange blows, and it's one of the most intense sparring sessions we've ever had. I land a few hits, Slade lands a lot more hits, but it's been a long day and my backpack has gotten heavy after hours of lugging it around and I'm going to get tired way before Slade does.

Wait! The backpack!

I rip my backpack off and hurl it at Slade's head. He knocks it away, and that fraction of a second is enough of a distraction that I land a kick to the stomach. The hit is strong enough to knock Slade into a tree. My knife is in my hand the next second, pointed at the underside of Slade's chin.

"Found you." I pant, my chest rising and falling with exhaustion. Forget vacation, this has been a really stressful trip. Slade smirks, glancing down at the knife I have trained on him.

"Not bad, Richard. It only too you five hours and twenty-one minutes."

"So I win?"

"For today." Slade concedes. Then his hand snaps up, disarming me and shoving me out of arm's reach. He looks down at the knife and inspects the blade before folding it in half and tossing it back to me. "Tomorrow, it's your turn to run."

"What?"

"I have five hours and twenty minutes to find you. Let's see how well that disappearing act of yours holds up."

Oh, that is going to suck. Like I said; this is a damn stressful vacation.

---

Jason Todd

The Watchtower

---

Jason couldn't breathe.

Batman didn't say anything but he was alive and he was okay and he was just staring at Jason. Jason couldn't breathe, couldn't feel anything but Babs' hand on his arm.

Why wasn't Batman saying anything? Why wasn't anyone saying anything?

"What do we—" Jason started to ask, but his dad cut him off before he could get any farther.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Batman's voice was a low growl and it was the scariest thing Jason had ever heard in his life.

"I—"

"We had to do something!" Babs found her voice first.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?!"

"Of course we knew!" Jason said.

"What else were we supposed to do?!" Babs demanded when that only made the glare on Batman's face deepen.

"The team needed our help!" Jason added.

"Well I need you ali—" His dad cut himself off mid-word before taking a deep breath. Batman glared at Jason with the full weight of a disappointed father. "Go back to the Batcave. Right now. We'll talk about this later."

"What? Are you kidding me?! We're not going anywhere!" Babs spat.

"This is not up for discussion!" Batman glowered.

"That's all you have to say?!" Babs demanded. "We just saved you and the entire league! If it wasn't for us, you'd still be mind-controlled and Superman would still be on route to plunge the entire planet into a new Ice Age!"

"Barbara." Batman hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. "Not. Now."

Babs went still. Jason's head spun, and it took him another few seconds to process the sound of Zatanna frantically crying out spells behind him.

"We can fix him!" Zatanna shouted, but Jason had no idea what she said next, because Hawkwoman was dragging herself through the doorway, one of her wings covered in blood and Roy's arm slung over her other shoulder.

Jason gasped, staring at Roy in shock. He… he couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. That wasn't possible, that… he had to be… was he…

"He's just unconscious." Babs's voice was in his ears while her hand squeezed Jason's, and he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "He's okay."

"I will do everything in my power to restore him." His dad promised Zatanna, and that was when Jason realized Batman wasn't right next to him anymore. There were a few seconds of silence before Zatanna started to sob. Batman hesitated, glancing back at Jason and his stomach dropped at the look on his dad's face.

Batman turned back to the League and the Team, and Jason had no idea how to deal with the fact that his dad looked… lost. Jason's heart pounded in his chest, so loud he could barely hear anything else going on. Now that it was over, the last few hours were catching up to him.

The whole Justice League had been attacked. Red Tornado died. Jason had somehow managed to survive fighting the entire League at once, including his own mind-controlled dad. And that was all before Babs fell off the highest point in the Watchtower. If Superboy hadn't caught her…

…well, she'd fallen from a lot higher than a trapeze.

"We need to regroup. We'll… Aqualad, you and—"

"Batman. Take them home." Wonder Woman cut him off, her voice heavy as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I will handle this. You need to be with them."

"I can't leave now."

"Go." Aunt Diana's tone left no room for argument, and Jason wondered what it was like to be unshakable. The world almost ended, she'd been captured and mind-controlled with everyone else, and somehow she stood strong, confident and whole. "The rest of you, we need to regroup and that means I need your full cooperation. Manhunter, Miss Martian, finish securing Psimon and make sure the two of you are ready when Red Arrow wakes up. Anyone who's hurt, I don't care if it's just a scrape, head to the medbay right now. Aquaman, take Hawkwoman to medical and bring in a surgeon from our call list. I want to know as soon as you do whether she'll need surgery. Lanterns, you're with me to retrieve Superman."

"We'll go with you." One of the Superboys said. "Just in case."

"Good. Captain Atom, Dr. Fate, get the Flash unfrozen."

"What can I do?" Kid Flash demanded. Wonder Woman hesitated for a second before answering.

"Monitor his vitals. Make sure his core temperature doesn't drop. And Canary…"

Wonder Woman trailed off, but Black Canary nodded and moved to stand behind Zatanna. The magician was staring numbly at Tornado's unmoving body, and a chill ran down Jason's spine. That kind of numbness, the all-consuming emptiness that buried everything else; it was the thing waiting for him whenever things went wrong. It hadn't gone away since the day Dick disappeared.

"Let's go." Batman said, the hand on Jason's shoulder tightening. Jason looked at Babs to follow her lead, but she just nodded at him.

"Okay." Jason said quietly. All around them, the heroes had started to disperse. All except for Artemis and Black Canary, who were huddled around a sobbing Zatanna and the hunk of metal that used to be Red Tornado.

"Wait." Wonder Woman's voice echoed through the hall before they could take more than a few steps. "We cannot begin to express our gratitude for what you have all done. We owe you an enormous debt. One of our own was lost in this fight and the ten of you prevented a truly unimaginable toll. There will be time to mourn, and we will take the time to honor Tornado's memory even as we search for a way to restore him. But for now, we have work to do."

---

Selina Kyle

I-84, somewhere between Boston and Gotham

---

Selina's foot didn't come off the gas pedal once on the entire drive back from Boston. It still wasn't enough. The hours stretched out into interminable agony; Bruce wasn't answering his phone and she couldn't contact the manor either. By the time she got back, hours had passed and it was all she could do to hold back the panic. The manor was terrifyingly quiet and horribly empty.

"Bruce?" She called, her voice echoing in the entrance hall. "Alfred?"

No answer.

Selina practically ran up the main staircase, rounding the corner and throwing open the door to the girls' suite. The lights were still on in the sitting room, but neither of the girls were in their rooms. Selina's breath caught, panic seizing her lungs. On the other end of the hall, Tim's room was dark, but there was no sign of the little boy. The lights were still on in Jason's room, his laptop sitting open on his desk and his chair flung to the side like he'd left in a hurry.

"Alfred?!" Selina called, her voice echoing uselessly off the walls. The door to Dick's room was open, just a tiny crack. Selina steeled herself and pushed the door open all they way, coming face-to-face with…

…an empty room. Perfectly clean, just like Alfred left it.

The air rushed out of Selina's lungs like a punch in the chest.

Focus.

Selina took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. The manor was enormous and there were still plenty of other rooms the kids could be in. She took a second to pull herself together, then tried to think of where frightened children might go to sleep.

Almost as soon as she'd had the thought, she turned around and made a beeline for the Master bedroom on the other side of the Manor. She practically flung the doors open, her stomach dropping in relief at the sight of tiny figures curled up under the covers. Cassie was in the middle, Stephanie and Tim each holding one of her hands. It would have been adorable if it wasn't so completely heartbreaking. Even in the dim lighting, it was clear to see that their fear had followed them to sleep. Still, fitful sleep was better than nothing.

"Miss Selina," Alfred startled, and it was only then that she noticed the butler sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room. He looked exhausted; his head had a few more gray hairs and the lines on his face were more pronounced than usual.

"Alfred!" Selina breathed, taking the old man by the shoulders and squeezing gently. "Are you alright? Are the kids okay?"

"They were terribly worried, but they are alright."

"What happened? What's going on?"

"I believe it would be best to relocate. I'd hate to wake the children now."

Alfred led her out of the room and back into the hall.

"Master Bruce was called away to the Watchtower just before this debacle began. I can scarcely imagine what must be occurring at the moment."

"Where's Jason?" Selina asked. Alfred sighed and Selina's heart broke in half all over again.

"The Watchtower."

"What?!" Selina gasped, her heart pounding in her chest.

"He and Miss Gordon took it upon themselves to… rectify the situation."

"Jesus Christ! Where are they? Are they okay?!"

"Master Jason has informed me that he and Miss Gordon have joined forces with Master Dick's— with the team. Unfortunately, that is as much as I have heard from them."

"Fuck. I'm going after them." She pulled off her overcoat, revealing Catwoman's costume underneath. Selina pulled her hair back to pull on her mask before securing her whip in place, and finally tugging on her gloves and flexing her newly-sharpened claws.

"Good luck. And… thank you, Miss Selina." Alfred squeezed her hand before patting it firmly. "Now go. There isn't any time to waste."

Catwoman was on her way to the Batcave before he finished. Going in blind was never ideal; the only thing she had on her side was that she knew how these villains worked. Any plan that didn't involve rubbing it in to the Justice League's faces that they'd been beaten meant that this was all just a distraction. Taking over the League like that meant that the real plan was happening behind the scenes. That was good.

Because that meant Catwoman had a chance to knock out whoever was piloting the League while the other villains were busy running the show.

A quiet Batcave was one of the things that Selina would never get used to. At this time of night, Batman and Robin should be out on patrol, their comms chiming in over the speakers for Alfred to respond to while the Batcopmuter plugged away at its analysis. But now, instead of the Batman's database, there were just camera feeds.

Catwoman stopped dead, staring at the Batcomputer's screen. The camera feeds showed the Watchtower from dozens of different angles. On the biggest screen, the members of the League were climbing to their feet, some of the sidekicks helping them up while the rest secured the unconscious villains.

It was over.

Jason and Barbara were clustered around Bruce, relief clear despite the battered exhaustion. They were fine, all three of them. They didn't need Catwoman's help, not for this. Not for any of it.

Selina sat down heavily, suddenly too overwhelmed to stay on her feet.

It was... over.

What was she supposed to do now?

The team didn't need her help; they'd taken care of the threat on their own. And Catwoman wouldn't exactly be welcomed to the Watchtower with open arms literal seconds after an enemy invasion. There was nothing she could do to help them.

For what felt like the millionth time in the last few months, Selina had no idea what to do. Should she go back upstairs and let Alfred get some sleep? Maybe that wouldn't be the worst idea if there was any way in hell Alfred would let his guard down until Bruce and Jason were back safely.

Selina had no idea how long she stared numbly at the screen before the Zeta beam generator whirled into action, light blazing as the machinery spun until a series of figures appeared. She was across the room before her brain caught up to the moment and she threw her arms around the first person she could reach. Bruce hesitated before bringing his arms around her and allowing himself a moment to hold her.

"Thank god." Selina breathed, the pit of terror in her stomach finally loosening after hours of complete misery. She pulled back, her hands going to the sides of his head as if she was trying to reassure herself that he was really there. "You're okay."

"Is everyone alright?" Bruce demanded, his arms squeezing a little bit tighter before letting go. Selina nodded.

"The kids are upstairs sleeping, and I'm sure Alfred knows you're back by now."

Bruce didn't say anything in answer to that. He just brought a hand up to her wrist before squeezing gently; that was all she needed. Selina stepped past him, crouching down to put a hand in Jason's hair. A spike ran through her chest at the sight of the black domino mask over his face, the red body armor and the signature "R" symbol on his chest.

The Robin uniform fit him perfectly.

And it broke her heart. In so many ways, for so many reasons; because Jason was a child. A headstrong, stubborn, caring, loyal, brave child who'd seen a crisis and couldn't stand by and do nothing. Because Jason thought he was ready to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But most of all, because that uniform belonged to someone else and no one else had the right to wear it. Desperate times might call for desperate measures, but it was going to kill Dick if Bruce let anyone replace him. It didn't matter who.

Jason met her eyes and whatever was on Selina's face made him flinch, the look on his face hardening as he pulled away from her.

"Are you okay?" Selina asked him, staring at the space between them without any idea how to cross it.

"I'm fine."

"Catwoman," A new voice said.

Batgirl. Selina should have known she'd be back. Anyone brave enough to stare Deathstroke in the face wouldn't let anything stand in her way. And that was twice now that Barbara had gone up against insane odds and walked away unscathed.

Whatever else happened, Batgirl was in the game now. For good.

Selina took a deep breath and stepped back. Now that she knew they were all alive and in one piece, she could think again.

"What happened? Tell me everything."

Jason and Barbara exchanged looks, and then Bruce started to tell the story. Between the three of them, it took about an hour to get through everything; Bruce explained how Red Arrow had infected the first few Leaguers and brought the Light to the Watchtower, then had the other Leaguers picked off one-by-one. By the time Batman realized how many people had been summoned to the Watchtower, it was too late to mount any kind of counter attack.

Barbara picked up the story then, explaining how she'd seen Superman's announcement and done the first thing she could think of; gotten Jason to let her into the cave so she could hack the Batcomputer. The two of them got as much intel as they could before contacting Dick's teammates and arranging to meet to share what they knew.

After that, it was up to the team. Selina listening in horrified rapture as Jason joined in to describe how they'd split up, half the team tracking down the missing Leaguers and the other half taking on a robot capable of destroying entire cities. And they'd won. Somehow, the team had pulled out a win and saved the entire League.

When it was over, Selina could only stare. Then she saw the look on Bruce's face; she recognized that special combination of guilt and self-hatred anywhere. Before she could say anything, Bruce turned to Barabara and Jason.

"If there was anything that I could do to stop the two of you from ever putting on those costumes again, I would do it in a heartbeat. This job is dangerous. Neither of you need to do this. Neither of you should do this."

"Yeah, well neither should you." Jason shot back.

"I know the risks. I am always aware of what could go wrong, every single time I put my uniform on."

Barbara took a breath, steadying herself before meeting Batman's eyes. The determination on her face was matched only by the stubbornness.

"Dick needed my help. I could've helped him and I didn't. And now he's gone and I have no idea if there was anything I could have done, but all I know is I am never going to stand by when there's something I can do to help. And you need a partner. Batman and Robin never would've gotten caught in that trap. You can't do this alone, Batman." Barbara said.

"He's not alone." Selina reminded her.

"Catwoman's a villain. Unless there's been a change to the plans that I don't know about, you need to stay that way."

Batman didn't answer, and neither did Selina; Barbara was right and they all knew it. Finally, Batman sighed.

"Here's how it's going to work. The two of you are going to train. You are going to train harder than you ever have in your lives. And you are not setting foot in the field until we deem you ready."

"We are ready." Barbara said. "I'll do your training, but you're not taking me out of the field. You need me there, now more than ever."

"This is not up for debate. If you do this, you will do it my way. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I do."

"Me too." Jason added. Bruce sighed.

"Go upstairs. Alfred can arrange a guest room for you, or he can have you taken home."

"Thank you, Bruce." Barbara said. "C'mon Jay."

Bruce sunk into his chair, watching the two of them head for the elevator back up to the manor. Selina put her hands on his shoulders, wishing there was anything she could do.

"If anything happens to them…"

"I know." Selina whispered. "Bruce, I… you can't stop them. God I wish you could but… they're in this now."

"I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Selina sat down next to Bruce, resting one hand on top of his.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Tornado was destroyed."

"Oh. Shit."

"Zatanna can't stay at the cave anymore. I've talked to Dinah a few times about having her stay with her and Ollie but Zatanna doesn't want to leave. But she has to go now, she can't stay in the Cave by herself."

"And what about the League?"

"I don't know. It's going to be one hell of a mess."

"Bruce, I'm so sorry. I know this isn't enough, but whatever you need from me, I'm here."

"If you could…" Bruce trailed off.

"What do you need?"

"The kids. This is going to take all my attention to handle and I need to know they'll be taken care of."

"Of course." Selina kissed his temple before leaning in and letting their foreheads press together. "Whatever you need."

---

Roy Harper

The Watchtower

---

Roy woke up to the world's worst headache and a monster's face inches from his own.

He yelped and scrambled back, before losing his balance and crashing to the floor. The skeletal monster retreated but Roy could only stare at its spiny limbs and the pulsing red muscle protruding from its head and down its back.

'Mind control.' Miss Martian's voice rang through his head while the monster nodded at someone beyond his field of vision.

"Can you break it?"

'Now that I know what to look for, yes.' The monster turned towards him, raising one spiny claw to gesture. That's when the pieces clicked.

"Wait, wait, wait! M'gann?!" Roy stared numbly at the monster in front of him. The monster tilted its head and Roy got the distinct impression it was almost amused. Not quite, but almost.

'You wanted to know what I was hiding, didn't you?' The monst—Miss Martian raised her arms and brought the tips of her long, bony fingers to rest against his forehead. Roy flinched, expecting the touch to be freezing and instead was met with warmth against his temples. 'What do you remember?'

What did he remember?

Roy's head throbbed but he still made himself answer.

"The chips. I asked Superman to meet me, but it was a trap. I infected him with a chip and then we… the Flash was there? And then I… I don't… oh god, what have I done?"

'Your mental programming kicked in, forcing you to infect as many of the Leaguers as you could. The three of you sent out a false distress signal, tricking all the League's members into coming to the Watchtower. Once they were all incapacitated, Superman made a broadcast to the entire planet that he would push the whole planet out of orbit and trigger a mass- extinction if they didn't make him the Supreme Leader of the planet.'

"Shit."

'We—the Team, plus a few friends—got onto the Watchtower and disabled AMAZO while the other half took down the infected Leaguers.'

"But Superman was… how did you beat Superman?"

'Superboy brought some friends. Savage and Klarion got away, but we got Ivo and Psimon. And… I… we can tell you the rest later.'

"I was the mole." Roy said numbly. M'gann nodded sadly and he grabbed her wrist. "Get it out of me. Whatever they did to my head, get it out. I don't care if you wipe out everything else with it, just get it out."

'I will. I promise. Just close your eyes and relax.'

Close his eyes and relax. Roy closed his eyes, but he didn't know how he was supposed to relax with the nightmare he'd just woken up from. Still, he tried his best to let the pressure poking around at his mind do what it wanted. The pressure got more intense, but just when his head was starting to ache, Roy fell.

Then…

…nothing.

By the time Roy came to, M'gann was back in her human form.

"Roy? How do you feel?" She asked cautiously, hands hovering over him like she was afraid to touch him for fear that he'd break.

"I feel… fine."

"I cleared out everything I could find, but Uncle J'onn will go over everything again. Plus, we'll need to do more screenings to really make sure…"

Roy frowned, but it was hard to listen to her when his fuzzy brain was screaming at him that he was forgetting something. Something important. Something…

OH GOD.

Kaldur.

"Where's Kaldur?!"

"I… I'm not sure, Roy. But we need to finish—"

"Did you get everything?"

"I think so, but we can't be sure until—"

"You can make sure later. This is more important. Where is he?"

M'gann frowned, but decided it wasn't worth arguing.

"I think he's in the hangar. You should hurry."

Roy was out the door before she could finish.

Kaldur was in the main hangar, speaking quietly to Wonder Woman. He looked exhausted and his wrist was cast in a splint, but just the sight of him filled Roy with relief. The two of them turned at the sound of Roy's footsteps, but while Wonder Woman managed a tight smile, Kaldur just stiffened. Then he headed straight for the bioship without looking back.

"Kaldur! Kaldur, please! Wait!"

Kaldur hesitated. But he still stopped, and that was enough for a tiny spark of hope to ignite in Roy's chest.

"I'll give you two a minute." Wonder Woman said. As she passed Roy, she put a hand on his shoulder and nodded at him once. Then Roy was alone with the person he loved most and the memories of exactly how badly he'd hurt him. Roy stared at Kaldur, desperately trying to figure out what to say to fix everything.

"It's good to see you on your feet." Kaldur offered.

"Kaldur, I'm so sorry, but please tell me you're not going to leave."

Roy's voice cracked on the last word and Kaldur just gave him a sad smile.

"I know now that you were not in your right mind. Know that there are no hard feelings, my friend." Kaldur said quietly in a horribly closed-off voice.

"You can't go back to Atlantis!" Roy said hotly. "The Team needs you to stay."

"Superboy has shown himself to be a more than capable replacement. There is nothing for me here."

"Wait!" Roy exclaimed, desperation spilling into his voice. Kaldur looked at him with tired eyes, a tragic and bitter and hopeless smile on his face.

"There is nothing left to say."

"Like hell there's not!" Roy spat. "Kaldur, please listen to me. I am so, so sorry. I… what I did, what those monsters forced me to do… I'll never forgive myself for it. I have to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to live with myself now, when they've been inside my head for years. I don't know who I am, I don't know who I'm supposed to be, and I sure as hell don't know what I'm supposed to do now." Roy grabbed Kaldur's hand, squeezing it like it would disappear the second he let go. "But I can't lose you. I can't. I don't know anything else right now, except that I need you. I can't lose you, Kal, especially because they twisted my head so much that the only thing I cared about was finding those goddamn chips. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me."

"I…"

Roy couldn't breathe.

"Please, I know you can never forgive me for what I did, and I know I don't deserve it but I need you—"

He cut off when Kaldur grabbed his head and tackled him, his lips locking over Roy's and stopping him dead. Roy stiffened for a second before his muddled brain caught up to what was happening, and then his arms wrapped around his boyfriend like that was the only thing they were capable of doing.

Nothing was okay; not the world and especially not Roy. But this? To have Kaldur, he would go through anything.

---

Zatanna Zatara

Mount Justice

---

Zatanna was curled in on herself, hands wrapped so tightly around her arms they were almost numb. She gasped for breath, chest heaving as tears dripped down her face. Hot, salty tears that stung against the cuts on her face and somewhere deep in her chest she was furious that it didn't hurt worse.

Zatanna cried, desperately trying to get a hold of herself even though she didn't want to. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair it wasn't—

"Zatanna." The double-layered voice stopped her heart and Zatanna gasped, eyes flying open to see the last person in the universe she'd ever want to.

"What the hell do you want?" Zatanna spat at Doctor Fate, fury and hatred more powerful than anything she'd felt in her life coursing through her. Her rage drowned out everything else—even the grief—and Zatanna leaned into it, embracing the anger and letting it wash away the sadness and the pain.

"I am… deeply sorry that you must endure another loss."

"Go to hell."

Doctor Fate strode into her room, bypassing the privacy spells in an effortless reminder that the Lord of Order's magic was infinitely more powerful than hers. Just another way she was helpless to stop him. Zatanna sat up on her bed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Get. Out."

"I am not without sympathy, young magician. But the world needs Doctor Fate."

"Well I need my dad!" Zatanna glared, wishing the acid in her voice was strong enough to hurt the being that was keeping her father from her.

"Your father's pain is… substantial. He bitterly regrets that he cannot provide you the comfort he wishes to, and he understands that it pales in comparison to your grief."

"That's all you came to tell me?" Zatanna spat, fresh tears spilling out when she accidentally stared Fate in the eyes and the steely green of her father's gaze stared back at her. Fate's hand rested on her shoulder and Zatanna froze; for one second, all she felt was her father's hand and love and safety. Then the spell broke and she tried to wrench herself free.

"Don't touch me!" She spat, but Doctor Fate didn't let go.

"The sacrifices that you and your father have made do not go unseen." Doctor Fate rumbled, Naboo's voice layered over her father's.

"I said, GET OUT!" Zatanna screamed, her voice breaking into a sob.

---

Bruce Wayne

The Hall of Justice

---

"How are you feeling?" Wonder Woman asked.

"World's worst headache." The Flash groaned, rubbing at his temple.

"And you're sure it's gone?" Superman looked like hell, ugly bruises blooming across his face, but he was staunchly ignoring all the scars from his fight.

"The chips have been neutralized." Aquaman confirmed. "Mera recognized the Atlanean sorcery at play and acted accordingly to disable that facet. Since the mind control abilities were directly granted by the chips, there will be no lingering effects."

"Of course, the two of you will be monitored closely for the next few weeks out of an abundance of caution." Wonder Woman added. Batman didn't miss the way the Flash's shoulder's relaxed or Superman let out a tiny breath.

"Good." Superman said.

"What do we do now?"

"The United Nations has made a formal demand that I deliver the incident report to the Security Council personally." Superman said heavily.

"They're afraid." Batman nodded. A few of the Leaguers winced, but this wasn't the time to protect anyone's feelings.

"I don't blame them. They're going to want answers for what happened, and I need to be able to assure them that it will never happen again. This can't happen again, ever."

"How do we make sure of that?"

"Tighter security? More emergency protocols? Lockdown procedures?"

"We can't."

"That's not good enough."

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter how tight we make security or how thorough our vetting is or how safe we think we are. There's always going to be a crack. Always."

"So you propose we do nothing?"

"We diversify the risks. Make sure that anyone trying to target the League can't get to all of us. Other than that? What alternative do we have? Disband the League?"

"Members of the UN are pushing for a registration act. To have the League and all its members register."

"What a stupid idea." Green Arrow sneered.

"That's not going to happen." Batman said with finality. The League nodded in unanimous agreement.

"How do you propose we diversify?" One of the Green Lanterns asked.

"We expand. Both the League and the Team."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Hawkwoman leaned forward, wincing when it disturbed the bandages holding her stitched wing in place.

"It's nothing we haven't discussed already. Clearly our enemies have decided to make bold choices; it's we do as well." Wonder Woman said. "We cannot pretend our enemies haven't taken advantage of our weaknesses. They have. They've had access to our systems, led us down false trails, implanted not one but two of their own among us, and now this? We can't pretend it won't happen again. But there's no choice. We've all seen the news. We all know that Luthor is behind the recent push and we can't allow him to take advantage of this situation anymore than he already has."

"It does beg the question… would the world be safer without the League?" Superman's question hung heavily in the air. Aquaman frowned and the Flash's shoulders dropped. Batman couldn't deny that he'd had the same thought. More than once.

"If we disband the League, we give our enemies exactly what they want." Wonder Woman said confidently, her voice carrying thorough the room and effortlessly tearing through the silence. "All it takes for evil to win is for good people to do nothing."

"People are scared. All across the world, people thought that this could have been the end. They need to know that we are not going to abandon them now. We cannot change the past, but we can control how we respond to it."

"Alright. Then we'll put it to a vote. All in favor?"

---

Tim Drake

Wayne Manor

---

"Steph do you have my backpack—you're crying." Tim stopped in the doorway, blinking in surprise.

"No I'm not! Go away!" Steph spat, throwing a pillow at his head while she tried to sneakily wipe her eyes. The pillow hit him in the face and Tim picked it up off the floor. Steph's eyes were red and bloodshot and Tim didn't know what to do.

"Steph, what's wrong?"

"My dad's getting out in a week and I—" Steph's lip trembled as she clung tighter to one of her stuffed animals. Cassie's tiny hand patted her on the leg twice to get her attention, before shaking her head with a big frown stretched across her face. Steph sniffed and she forced herself to take a breath. "Sorry Cass. You're right, no crying."

"You… what? No, Steph, you don't have to… you can…"

"What, you want me to just keep crying like a baby? We're not all crybabies like you, Tim." Steph glared.

"Steph, Bruce isn't really gonna-"

"You don't know what he's gonna do! He doesn't care about us Tim!"

"That's not true!"

"He doesn't! He doesn't even care about Dick, why would he care about the rest of us?!"

"He does!"

"Then why hasn't he found him yet?!"

"You're wrong." Tim said, but his chest hurt and he didn't know why.

"Well you're stupid! You're a stupid crybaby!"

Tim turned around, slamming the door to Steph's room. She was the stupid one. Stupid little sisters who thought they knew everything. She didn't know what she was talking about.

Today sucked. Stephanie was being stupid and Tim still couldn't find his stupid backpack. He stomped downstairs, checking in room after room as he went. Bruce would know where his backpack was; too bad he was still out doing Batman stuff. It wasn't fair that he had to clean-up all the mess by himself after what happened to the League, but Bruce hadn't been home long enough for Tim to tell him that.

Selina was in the entrance hall when Tim passed through, all dressed up for museum work. She would probably know where his backpack was, but she looked like she was in a hurry.

"Have a good day Tim." Selina waved, pulling on her shoes as she looked around. "Cassie? Cassie, honey? Are you ready? We're going to be late!"

Tim didn't know where Cassie came from; one second she was just there, tugging on the leg of Selina's pants. Selina jumped, looking down to see Cassie staring up at her.

"Cassie, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there!" Selina scooped her up and shifted the weight onto her hip. Tim watched them walk down the hall, past the kitchen and towards the garage. "Are you all ready? Do you need anything to eat?"

Cassie shook her head and Tim frowned.

"Alfred, I should be back at six. I'll call ahead if there's traffic. Call me if there's anything you need."

"Much appreciated, Miss Selina. Miss Cassandra, have a wonderful day and I will see you in a few hours."

Then Selina and Cassie were gone for the day and Alfred was back in the kitchen and Tim still hadn't found his stupid backpack. He checked the library and the dining room and the game room with no luck, and just when he was about to give up, he found his backpack in the living room with the big windows. The tv was on, and Tim stopped when he saw Uncle Clark on screen. Well not Uncle Clark.

Superman.

And this time, it was really him. Tim read the caption rolling across the bottom of the screen, "Superman to Address United Nations General Assembly."

"I am deeply, truly sorry for the panic and fear that this incident caused. I understand exactly why I have been called here today, and I do not blame anyone for their desire to do something as a natural reaction to it. But there is a reason that we are all standing here today, and that reason is that the safeguards that are currently in place are effective. Despite the egregious attack the League suffered, including the destruction of one of our oldest members, the remaining members were more than capable of handling the situation." Superman began, a thousand cameras flashing as he started talking. He sounded sad.

Tim didn't blame him. He would've been sad too if a supervillain had mind-controlled him into almost destroying the Earth and killing everyone on the planet.

"Is it true that the sidekicks were the ones to take down the League?" The delegate from South Rhelasia asked. Tim only knew who he was because of the caption on the screen.

"Ambassador Ryang, there are no sidekicks on the Justice League." Superman said firmly. "All of our heroes, including the younger members, are treated equally and with the same amount of respect. The attack on myself and the other members of the League resulted in the capture of only one of our active rosters; however, this is exactly the reason why we have multiple rosters. The members who were not present were able to mount a successful counterattack. I can personally assure you, the League has safeguards in place already to protect against a member of the League turning rogue, and the events of this past week has proven that they are successful."

Tim tried his best to follow what was happening, but he lost track of the flurry of questions that followed it. Politicians always talked in riddles; Bruce said they were worse than the Riddler. But it seemed like the UN people just kept asking questions that Superman didn't like.

"You don't have to have super-hearing to know that there is a push for the establishment of a database consisting of every known heroes' identities and abilities, including any weaknesses that they may possess in case a member is ever compromised again. I am here to shut that line of thought down. The creation of any such list will only put the Justice League's members and their families in danger."

"Master Timothy, if you would kindly extract yourself from the television, it's past time to head to school. Master Jason and Miss Stephanie are already in the car." Alfred called.

"Coming!" Tim turned off the tv, straightened his uniform, and pulled his backpack over his shoulders. A pair of Cassie's tiny baby shoes was sitting next to the door and Tim stopped when a thought hit him.

"Are you alright, Master Timothy?" Alfred asked.

"Did Cassie eat today?"

"I beg your pardon? I would certainly presume so, why do you ask?"

"I… Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Timothy?" Alfred still looked worried and Tim didn't know how to explain the feeling in his gut that something just wasn't right. So instead, he asked the question he really wanted to know.

"Are things going to get better?"

"I certainly hope so."

Tim frowned, staring down at Cassie's shoes.

"Me too."

"That being said, they certainly will not be better if you're late for school. I appreciate your concern for your sister, Timothy, but for now we'd better get moving."

---

Bruce Wayne

The Rooftop above Gotham PD

---

Commissioner Gordon barely paused long enough to turn off the Batsignal before turning towards Batman and launching in.

"Good, you're here. Something's wrong with the Grayson case."

All thoughts of a normal patrol disintegrated at the commissioner's words.

"What do you mean, something's wrong?"

"The feds took everything. We've been working it from our end but as soon as we put anything on paper the FBI swoops in and snatches it away. I've had people on his case since day one but we're getting stonewalled. Furman got through the feds last week, had all the paperwork in line just so he could be told the FBI doesn't have jurisdiction anymore."

"What?!" Batman demanded. "Who does?"

"The CIA."

"The CIA." Batman repeated, just to make sure he wasn't crazy. "Why the hell is a billionaire's son's disappearance being stonewalled by the CIA?"

"I don't know. Something's going on and whatever it is, it stinks. You know that we're not going to just sit back and let that kid slip under the radar. We're gonna keep pushing back on this as much as we can, but there's a hell of a lot of red tape."

Batman frowned, his mind turning over the new information to look at it from every angle. What the hell did the CIA want? Wilson had to be involved, there was no way he wasn't. And that meant Batman had missed something.

There had to be somewhere else to look. Somewhere that Batman had missed before—

Dammit.

---

"Superman. Come in."

"I'm here Batman. What's wrong?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm still in New York, but the last session of the day just finished. What happened, is everything okay?"

"I… I need your help. Backup."

"I'll bring Wonder Woman. Just send me the coordinates."

"Meet me at the Harris Garage in the East End." Batman told him, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

"Wilson's old hideout? I thought you cleared it already."

"Like I said. I need backup."

"We'll be there soon. Don't do anything crazy until we get there."

"Thank you."

---

"Are you sure you're ready?" Superman asked quietly, glancing at the window where Wonder Woman was keeping watch.

"No." Batman forced his voice to stay low and steady, watching his breath turn to fog. "But there's something I'm missing, and I should have done this a long time ago."

Superman nodded at Wonder Woman, who disappeared from view. She would make her way around the back of the building, looking for hidden traps or surveillance. Superman shifted next to him, but Batman kept himself still despite the cold. This was just another recon mission, like any other that he'd been on before. The hideout would be long-since abandoned and Wilson should have cleared everything out. Anything that remained would be left there deliberately. To bait him.

That was why Wonder Woman and Superman were there. They'd keep him objective.

"It could be a trap." Superman pointed out.

"The rest of the League is on standby," Batman returned.

Superman judged him silently.

Batman sighed.

"I have to know, Clark," Batman said, his eyes fixed on a brick somewhere in the distance. Superman put a hand on his shoulder and nodded.

"I know."

Their comms buzzed and they both jumped. Or at least, Superman jumped while Batman's spine stiffened a bit.

"The security systems are all offline. There's cameras and tripwires all over the place, but they've been disabled for a while." Wonder Woman told them.

"Understood," Batman said. Superman started across the street, meeting Wonder Woman in front of the garage door. Superman reached down and hauled the door open, sliding the metal grating open with a grinding sound.

Batman joined them, trying to remind himself that he'd been here before, with Charlie. He was fine then, he'd be fine now. There was a loud snap as Superman pulled the industrial light switch, illuminating the dark space. Thick clouds of dust motes swirled through the air, along with the smell of stale motor oil. Batman looked around the abandoned garage. It could have been any of the other mechanic shops in Gotham city, with equipment in reasonably good condition. There were two hydraulic lifts, slightly rusted from age and use. He wondered how much time Dick had spent here, and then tried very hard not to think about that.

Superman pulled the door shut behind them.

"The entrance is through the office," Superman said. He and Wonder Woman started for the door, but Batman didn't move.

There was a smudged tire track in the cement floor near the wall, permanently staining the surface. Now that he knew what to look for, he recognized the pattern instantly. It matched the tires specially engineered for the Justice League's vehicles, tough enough to withstand an explosion and small enough to be used for motorcycles. The dark stain was proof that Dick had been coming here for years.

How many times had Dick been here? How much pain could Bruce have saved both of them if he'd just paid a little more attention?

Batman steeled himself and made his way towards the office, where Superman and Wonder Woman waited with heavy expressions. There was a table with an old PC and a rickety office chair. Filing cabinets lined the back wall, but Wilson wouldn't leave anything important somewhere so unprotected. There was a plain wooden door on the right-hand wall. Wonder Woman pulled open one of the filing cabinets and rifled through the folders inside. She shook her head and closed it with a snap.

"Just auto-service records."

Batman eased open the door, revealing a darkened staircase. The steps creaked under his weight, but he had no doubt they were sound. The door at the bottom of the stairs was a slab of metal that could have belonged in a bank vault.

He tried the door, which was predictably locked.

"Let me," Wonder Woman said and he backed up to give her space. With a scream, she lifted her leg and slammed her heel into the door. The metal crumpled around her foot, flying off its hinges and crashing forwards against the wall in front of it.

"After you," she said. There was a dark glint of satisfaction in her eyes that suggested she was imagining giving a certain mercenary's face the same treatment. Batman stepped over the crumpled door and crossed the threshold into Deathstroke's base.

"I guess it's too much to ask for lights," Superman grumbled. Batman passed him a flashlight while Wonder Woman rolled her eyes.

"You have infrared and night vision," she reminded him in a huff.

"It's still creepy," he defended himself while clicking on the flashlight and shining the bright beam around. Batman passed her a second flashlight and turned on his own. Between the three high-powered beams, the hallway was fully illuminated. The walls were paneled with smooth sheets of steel and the floor was dark gray concrete. The hallway stretched in both directions, too far for the flashlight to reach the end. The ceiling had recessed lightbulbs, but that was useless without a way to turn them on.

"Which way?" Superman asked. There was a moment of silence as Batman carefully considered both directions.

"That way," Wonder Woman beat him to it, pointing to the left. Superman looked to him for confirmation and Batman shrugged and followed the Amazon. Their footsteps echoed ominously off the metallic walls. The door at the end of the hallway was locked. Superman pried it open and Batman took a second to appreciate super strength.

Blindly wandering the hallways quickly revealed itself to be an exercise in futility. Every door they opened let to another hallway, which led to another hallway, which led to yet another hallway.

It wasn't until Batman's flashlight fell on a crumpled mass of metal that he realized they'd effectively been led in a circle. That wasn't technically true. He'd been suspicious, but seeing the door confirmed it.

"Are you sure this is the real base? It could be a decoy."

"We missed something." Batman snapped. "We'll go around again. Look for hidden panels or trapdoors."

The others followed him without complaint. They retraced their steps through the first shattered door, making their way slowly down the hallway. Batman studied the grooves in the paneling, scanning every individual crease for hidden latches or control panels. They'd barely made it past the second door when he spotted it. One of the panels was sunken a quarter of an inch into the wall.

"Right here," he said, pulling at a hidden catch. It slid up to reveal a handle, which pulled aside easily, revealing a dark room. Wonder Woman moved to block the doorway so they wouldn't be locked in. Their flashlights revealed that they'd found a cell block. The room was broken into six smaller cells by bars that extended from floor to ceiling.

Thankfully, all the cells were empty and they looked unused.

"We can come back here later," Batman turned back into the hallway.

Now that they knew what to look for, the search was easy. Not five minutes later, Superman pried open a door that led to a short hallway with doors lining both sides. The first door on the right was a small bathroom with a toilet and a sink. While not the most fascinating of discoveries, it confirmed that they'd found the actual hideout.

"Try that one next," Wonder Woman suggested, pointing across the hall. It was a small kitchen with a stove, oven, fridge, counters and a table with two chairs. Two chairs.

"The fridge is empty," Superman called while Batman and Wonder Woman poked through cabinets.

"All the appliances are unplugged, but the pantry is still partially stocked." Batman said, mostly to think out loud. "Wilson knew he was leaving, but he may try to use this place again."

They left the kitchen and opened the next door. The beam of Batman's flashlight lit up a row of computer monitors and the light was reflected on the tv screens lining the back wall.

"It's the office," he said and Superman and Wonder Woman rushed inside. The three of them tore through the space, yanking open drawers and pulling files and blueprints out of the cabinets. Wonder Woman she smashed the locks on the desk drawers and began extracting yet more blueprints from them. She unfurled the first one and let out a strangled sound.

"What is it?" Batman demanded. Wonder Woman shook her head in disblief, face pale as she flipped through the pile of papers in her hands.

"The manor. He has the blueprints for the manor." She flipped to the next page in the stack and her eyes widened. "And Mount Justice. And the Watchtower."

"No wonder we had so many security breaches," Superman shook his head incredulously. "If Deathstroke shared these…"

"I don't think he did. If he's the only one with the knowledge, that gives him power. He's too smart to compromise that." Superman shook his head. Batman forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"We have to assume Deathstroke still has access to all League systems. We'll do a full system reset and purge any invasive connections. After we're done here, we'll bring all the computers and hard files to the Watchtower to go over more carefully. All of Robin's access will be scrubbed. Every code he had access to needs to be reset."

"The rest of the league will love that," Wonder Woman tried a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but she nodded all the same.

Searching the rest of the office revealed a few more files, but from a quick glance, none of it was enough to legally tie Deathstroke to the events they described. Batman knew everything they found had been left there deliberately. The rest of the office was too empty for it to have been an accident. He had to keep going anyway. He was walking blindly into whatever trap Deathstroke had set but he didn't have a choice, not if there was even the slightest chance of helping him find his son.

The next room was right across the hall. It was much smaller than any of the other rooms and the walls were painted a light gray.

"Oh my god." Superman almost dropped his flashlight, but Batman ignored whatever conclusion that the alien had just reached. He pressed down on the panic bubbling in his chest and studied the room.

It was a tiny bedroom. The bed against the wall had dark blue sheets and a single pillow. There was a chest of drawers against the other wall with a mirror hanging above it. The closet door was open, revealing a space just big enough for a few hangers. The other door led to a tiny bathroom that barely fit a toilet, a shower and a sink. Batman reached for one of the drawers and pulled it open, expecting it to be empty.

It wasn't.

There were still a few neatly folded t-shirts. In the back of the drawer was a blue and white tank top that had been one of Dick's favorites before he "lost" it. Batman's fist closed tightly around the shirt and the panic in his chest turned to anger.

"He made him sleep in here," Batman growled, heart pounding with rage as his voice rose to a roar. "He locked him in a fucking closet!"

"Batman," Wonder Woman's hand closed around his wrist, bringing him back to the mission. They had to keep moving, or else none of them would be able to handle this. Without a word, Batman turned on his heel and strode back into the hallway, dropping the tank top on the ground behind him. He couldn't afford to get caught up in his emotions now.

Batman shoved the next door open and shined his flashlight into a large workout room. A sparring mat took of most of the space, but there were some workout machines against the wall. There was a large cabinet that probably contained weights or training weapons. It was empty when Batman opened it.

The next room was full of empty shelves and hooks. The room smelled like cleaning solvent and gunpowder. It didn't take to be the world's Greatest Detective to know that this room had been Wilson's armory. Across the hall, Wonder Woman and Superman were examining a well-ventilated room filled with electrical sockets and heavy machinery.

Superman looked up from the heap of scrap metal he was sorting through when Batman entered.

"It's a workshop. Deathstroke makes a lot of his own tech. Looks like he was working on some kind of combat robot, but that's just a guess. Everything that's here is inessential or just too heavy for him to take, but we can still have Barry do a once-over."

"Later," Batman grunted, trying not to think about how much Dick would enjoy building combat robots, at the order of an evil mercenary or not.

Wonder Woman nodded, brushing her hands off.

"There's just scraps, not even full parts. We're not going to find anything new in here."

The last door was around the corner. It opened into a spotless laboratory that reeked of antiseptics. Counters, drawers and cabinets lined the walls, with a projector screen across from the door. There was an enormous lab bench in the center of the room. A quick search revealed that the room was empty. Deathstroke had meticulously removed everything from the dozens of drawers and shelves, leaving faint outlines in dust to show that anything had been there at all.

"Dammit," Batman cursed. Deathstroke really had left the blueprints and files behind on purpose. He wanted the League— Batman— to have them.

"Let's get the files and head back to the Watchtower," he ordered gruffly.

Superman was the one to spot it. As they approached the crumpled mass that had once been a very secure door, his eyes narrowed. Batman and Wonder Woman followed him to the other end of the hallway, where more doors lay splintered inwards. Wonder Woman's lips quirked upwards at her handiwork. Superman reached for the wall near the closest door. When his hand pressed against it, a panel raised, forming a handle. He pulled it to the side, sliding the hidden door open. Batman shined his flashlight inside.

There was a tall-backed chair in the middle of the room, with a pile of papers resting on the seat. Batman stepped inside carefully and as soon as he did, the ceiling lights snapped on. Batman whirled towards the door, batarangs in hand, expecting to have sprung a trap. Wonder Woman and Superman tensed as well, but after a few seconds nothing happened. Either the lights were connected to a motion sensor, or Wilson had remotely activated them, in which case he was watching them. Unfortunately, the latter was more likely.

Reluctantly, Batman turned around. There was something in the room Deathstroke wanted him to see.

The room was mostly empty, with a storage chest against one wall and a few folding chairs leaning next to it. A rolling tray table was pushed into a corner, an empty metal tray on top. The floors were concrete, discolored from countless stains and cleanings. There was a door against the back wall, and a low-hanging light in the center of the room. The light bulb was perfectly positioned to cast a spotlight over the papers on the chair.

He was stalling. Batman took a deep breath, exhaled sharply, and made his way towards the pile. With Wonder Woman and Superman watching for traps, he picked it up.

The top sheet was a blank piece of paper. He pulled it away and almost choked.

It was a picture of Robin from the early days, back when the eight-year-old had wanted to keep his red and green circus-theme for his uniform. The picture was slightly blurred, indicating it was taken from long-range, but it showed Robin completely focused on a target out of the frame, oblivious to the picture being taken.

Batman flipped to the next picture, which was another picture from another angle, this time where Robin was swinging between buildings on his grappling hook.

Another picture of Robin, watching Batman talk to Commissioner Gordon on the Police Department Roof.

Another picture of Robin, now a little older. And another picture and another and another. A picture of ten-year-old Dick, sitting with Barbara at a table in the Gotham Public Library. Eleven-year-old Dick in his classroom at Gotham Academy. Another. And another. And another.

Just when Batman thought it couldn't get any worse, there was a picture of Dick sitting in a chair. Sitting in the exact chair that Bruce was now standing in front of. His eyes were covered by a tightly-wrapped blindfold, but it was impossible to cover the sheer terror and fury on his son's face. Even in the picture, the dried tears tracks stood out against Dick's skin, dripping down from underneath the blindfold to the gag tied around Dick's mouth.

He was bound to the chair; a mixture of rope and duct-tape holding digging into his skin that Batman could see the dark bruises forming underneath. And that was a fucking collar around Dick's throat; the light glinting off the metal was impossible to mistake.

Batman's knees gave out, his fingers spilling the photographs onto the floor. His palms pressed into the concrete. His eyes were squeezes shut as his body shook with rage.

"Deathstroke. Is going to pay."

---

Dick Grayson

Just outside the cabin in the woods

---

The last few days have been… intense. Turns out, it's way harder to be the one on the run without any equipment or camouflage, and every time I thought I had a big enough lead and hid my tracks well enough, Slade appeared again. I was lucky that I made it four hours. The "punishment" for Slade beating my time could've been way worse though. Making my own shelter to sleep in and foraging outside for food was nowhere near as bad as I expected it to be, and honestly, I think Slade was impressed.

I told him I had survival skills. Maybe now he'll actually believe me. That is, if I could just get this stupid stick to make smoking ash without breaking in half again.

I thought starting a fire would be the easy part. But I really should have known better when it comes to Slade. Would it kill him to let me use a flint? Or some matches?

The laundry list of complaints evaporates when the wood underneath the spindle starts to smoke. I reach for the pile of kindling and drop it on top of the smoking wood. In a matter of seconds, it's smoking like crazy and then the tinder catches. Holding my breath so I don't accidentally blow it out for the third time, I transfer the tiny flame to the wood pile and watch as it starts to catch, tiny whisps of flame licking through the pile. It takes a few minutes but slowly the wood starts to burn and then it's a full-blown fire.

"Got it!" I grin, triumphantly throwing down the wooden spindle.

"Well done, Grant." Slade praises.

I freeze.

...what did he just say?

The woods fall silent, the temperature dropping at least twenty degrees in a few seconds. I open my mouth and Slade glares at me the instant I do.

"Don't." Slade growls. My heart pulses, slamming itself against my ribcage and the words at the tip of my tongue evaporate. But they're back just as quickly and by the time my brain catches up, I can't stop myself.

There's never going to be a better time and I think that I need to know. Oh, this is a terrible idea. But it's not like that's ever stopped me before.

"Was that his name?" I ask quietly. "Your son?"

Slade shoots me a glare, and for a second, I think he's going to shove me face-first into the campfire I just made. But he doesn't. There's something on his face that I can't figure out, but my instincts are screaming that whatever it is must be important. I can't back down now. My hands tremble and my mouth is so dry I think my tongue is going to crack in half, but I say it anyways.

"Slade... trust goes both ways."

Slade takes a deep breath, closing his eye for a brief second before letting it out. He sits on one of the logs, watching the steadily-growing fire. It's a long time before he says anything, so long that I've given up on getting any answers.

"Yes." The fire crackles, washing Slade's face in red and orange light. "My son's name was Grant. He would've been twenty-four next month."

I swallow. Twenty-four. That's… somehow worse than what I was expecting. I've spent a long time wondering if that's what turned Slade into the monster that ripped my life away from me, if losing one of his kids broke something inside him. But twenty-four… the pain in Slade's eye isn't decades old. He had twenty years with his son, probably expected to have decades more. And then… he was gone.

"I'm sorry."

Slade doesn't acknowledge me. He just stares into the fire like it's the only thing in the universe. I can't tear my eyes away.

For the first time in… ever… Slade looks human. He just looks like a person; a real person with feelings and emotions and things that he wants that aren't evil.

"When, I mean, how long ago?"

"Five years."

That's… that's how long ago I lost my whole family.

"How did it happen?"

"Grant had big dreams; he wanted to be a mercenary, just like his old man." Slade says, his voice taking on a bitter edge. But it's definitely not aimed at me. "I turned down a contract and he took it. And it got him killed."

Oh. Shit.

Slade's not done though, and I can't make myself talk any more than he can make himself stop.

"He wasn't ready. He wasn't trained, he didn't know what he was doing, he was really just a kid in over his head. And I didn't do anything to stop it. I knew what he was doing, I just never…" Slade frowns, and he might be staring into the fire but his mind is somewhere else. "I could've stopped him. But I didn't."

Oh.

I blink. My stomach tightens, twisting over on itself until I feel nauseous. Slade's not… he's not just talking about Grant anymore, is he?

Slade doesn't seem to have anything else to say, and I let the silence hang in the air. The quiet sticks around and the minutes tick away one by one. It's cold outside but it's not so bad with a roaring fire. I hold my hands out to soak in the warmth but the whole time, I can feel Slade's eye on me. For once, it doesn't bother me. Not when I feel like I maybe, finally understand something about him.

After a long time, Slade speaks again.

"If you are interested… I do have a contract in a few days."

My head snaps up.

"You do not have to come, and there will be absolutely no repercussions if you choose not to. However, if you decide to accompany me, I will expect you to perform to the best of your abilities."

A contract.

"When you say a contract, do you mean…"

"Yes." Slade answers. I take a breath, pulling my hands away from the fire to stick them back in my jacket pockets. Slade's been hired to kill someone. And he's offering to let me come.

He's going to kill someone, and if I go, I have to help him. I have to help him kill someone.

But I've already done that. It feels like only a week ago that I made plans for him to steal something and I got one of the guards killed. This is nothing I haven't done before. And besides, this is what I've spent months working towards. I need Slade to let me come on missions, I need to show him the he can trust me; I need him to trust me.

"I want to come." My voice sounds so hoarse and I can't even start to think about what that means. "Please."

Slade smiles.

"Excellent. It'll be good to have you back, Renegade."

---

AN: And just like that, Renegade's back! I know you all missed him, I did too. Coming up next, the Team gets a few new members, Dick makes some new allies, and there are plenty of difficult and painful decisions to go around. I hope you're excited, because it's going to be great!

Thank you all again for reading and for your patience. I know that I can't update as frequently as all of us want, but I will promise you, I am not going to abandon this story. I've been working on it for over ten years and it's going to be finished. It just might take a while. I estimate that there are about 12 chapters left, so we are getting really close to the end. I can't tell you how it ends, but the rest of the story is entirely planned out and while I can't tell you if it's a happy ending, I do think it's very satisfying and a fitting end to this enormous story.

Please leave me a review if you liked this chapter or you're enjoying the story, it really makes my day! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon, and I will see you all again then! Thank you for reading!