AN) Hey…so um, I lied. I said I was doing better? Not really. I feel worthless half the time. I lost a friend and I feel like I'm not good enough to be around, like I don't deserve to be cared about. I feel lost and nervous a lot. I'm getting help, it comes and goes I guess. Like any other mood. I'm sorry I lied to you all. All of you, every single one, make me happy. Because you seem to enjoy my work. I'm so thankful for every one of you. Recently I'm doing ok. I saw Spider-Man Homecoming! Excellent movie, so cute! I hope you guys enjoy!

It hurt, Richard could still feel his skin crawling. There wasn't a fire anymore, but the embers weren't completely dead either. He tried to move, panicking as his limbs didn't want to respond. The sedative hadn't worn off yet. He was awake, but his body was still numb.

The League didn't understand, they couldn't just sedate him and it would all be over. No, he needed his pills. He wanted his pills. They let him forget, they let him focus on his master's orders. Without them he was…insane. He could remember Master telling him so.

It was the strangest feeling, being trapped in your own head. He couldn't move, but he could think. He was alone with his thoughts and memories. There was a light, like of movie beginning to play at the cinema. What in the? He tried to bring the black back, not really wanting to watch a movie of his memories. He prayed to the God Scott believed in it wasn't the memories of the League. It couldn't be…not yet.

It was home, Richard gasping sharply. He sat up, gazing at the sun dusted hallway. He could feel his legs…bloody. What was going on? He raised his arms, inspecting his hands. How was he here? The League had him…he wasn't in Oldham…he was probably in America! But he was there…he was standing in the kitchen. Richard whipped around, tensing as the stairs creaked behind him. His mouth almost hit the floor, blinking rapidly as he saw…himself?

The kid was tiny, maybe around eight or nine. Richard ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. This was beyond crazy…this was bloody mental! The little kid was racing down the stairs, running for his dear life. If this was the memory Richard thought it was he was going to cry.

It sounded like an adult was coming down from upstairs, Richard watching as the child whipped around in panic—looking for somewhere to hide or run to. He bolted for the door, Richard knowing he wouldn't get far. The door was locked, but the kid didn't know that. The boy was yanking on the doorknob, Richard moving towards him, wanting to stop what had happened to Richard himself years ago.

This was a bad day. Reason being, Will wasn't home. If he had been there it would have ended better.

He gulped audibly, pressing himself against the cupboards, hands gripping the countertop tightly. Master stalked past him, the little kid trying to open the door even more frantically was he noticed the man. Master pulled the kid away from the door, the boy trembling as he was whirled around to face him.

"You ran." Richard's younger self sputtered, trying to form a coherent excuse that would keep him from getting beat. "You do understand that you disobeyed me, Apprentice?"

Master revoked his name on multiple occasions. Giving Richard a title rather than a name. It happened when his master was angry with him and trying to intimidate him mostly. Richard recognized it as a power play, trying to remind him who played what role.

"I don't…I don't like needles!" The kid defended, almost tearing up. Richard really didn't like needles, they creeped the heck out of him.

Master must've been in a bad mood that day. Richard had been avoiding him for that reason. His master wasn't abusive…no…anytime he hit Richard outside of training Richard had earned. But adding alcohol into the mix made it even more dangerous. Master was always a tad more irritable after he had been drinking.

The kid was two inches off the floor in a matter of seconds, struggling to breathe as his master held him by his throat. His small hands grasping at the large ones holding him, trying to pry them off. He was wiggling like a fish, wanting to breathe.

"I don't care if you hate them." Richard flinching at the voice. It wasn't even him, it was past him—if that made sense—who was in trouble, but Richard was terrified. "You listen to me when I give you an order." The kid nodded, gasping softly. "You're insane." The words still hurt him, Richard wincing as the child fell to the ground. The kid whimpered which resulted in Master getting angrier. It resulted in a heavy kick sending the kid sliding across the floor. Richard side stepped the flying child, biting his lip as the boy curled into a ball. He was scared, they both were. "Your mind is completely ruined." He watched the kid's eyes widened, as he flinched away from the hands that pulled him off the ground. Richard could remember the stench of liquor on his breath. "Those shots are the only thing keeping you sane. Keeping you useful." The kid fell to his knees, the crunch sound as they popped startling both versions of the boy.

Richard moved closer to the kid, wanting to reach out and hug him. This day was awful. It was one of his least favorite memories.

"I am saving your pathetic brain." Master's hand snaked through his hair, snapping the boy's head up. Richard knew now, just as he had then, that his master was drunk. It made the man even more dangerous, he wouldn't be thinking clearly. Master shook the kid's head. "I am saving you. Say it. Say it!" He shook the child, the young version of him whimpering.

Richard knew how his master worked, he knew that he deserved respect. Richard knew that his master was his master. But one thing he would never ever understand was why his master needed to hear this. Needed to hear him say things like that. Richard hated it, but he didn't have any space to argue. He was supposed to show respect, but this…this made him feel like garbage.

"Y-You're saving me-me, Master." The little kid was shaking, staring at the ground. Master flung him back, letting the boy topple to the ground. "Thank y-you.

Richard didn't want to follow them, as Master dragged the past version of Richard to the lair. He didn't want to hear his screams again. He couldn't watch himself in pain. Richard knew he deserved the beat down he got after he was drugged, but he couldn't watch a kid get whooped. He just…he wanted to protect kids.

Master was drunk that day, that's why he was so angry. He was using Richard as his punching bag, it wasn't really his master who had broken Will's 15 lash rule and given him 30. It hadn't really been his master who had threatened to throw him off the lift and made him beg for it not to happen. It hadn't really been his master who had smashed a bottle upside his head. His master wasn't like that. His master was good, his master was all he had. His master had apologized the next day, had given him a new set of drawing pencils and spending money to go out with Scott. That was his master…his master cared about him.

He wanted a different memory. If he was going to be stuck in his mind until the sedative wore off he might as well be watching happy memories. Or at least not as depressing ones. Maybe he could control it? Or at least influence what would happen, it was his mind after all.

Richard balled his fists, focusing on happy things, laughter, playing games with friends, feeling safe. He felt funny, wincing internally was he opened his eyes to see the bright cinema lights flash and go down. Guess he changed memory movies. The concept was fairly interesting, it would be entertaining if he wasn't drugged.

Richard was surprised it was as dark as it was…Scott's house was never dark. His heart sank down to his knees as he realized he was in a cave. Not the cozy three story house on Queensway Avenue, he was in a bloody cave. His heart decided to slip down to his toes as it dawned on him where he was…what memory it was. It was one of the fake memories from the League…his pills were really wearing off.

He was in a daze as he surveyed the scene. There was little him, sitting proudly on the kitchen table rather than a chair like the rest of the four people. He thought there were five…and there was the archer off to the side on her phone. Friendly old thing, wasn't she. The four, five including past Richard, were playing cards, each eying one another suspiciously.

The clone placed two cards on the pile in the middle, coolly declaring—"Two threes."

The speedster slammed his hands on the table, startling and almost annoying everyone, he shrieked, "LIIIIIIIIAAAARRRRR!" Richard was startled by the outburst, and almost scared for past him who was scared of loud noises. Except past him was giggling at the silliness, Richard now suspecting it was all for show.

Wait a moment…Richard had played this game! At Scott's birthday party! They called it something else though, keeping their tones hushed so Mr. and Mrs. Daniels would hear them cursing. That was the most fun Richard had ever had with boys from the block, only time they didn't pin him as the anti-social boy on meds. Richard guessed 'Liar' was used due to little ears.

"Oh…you think I'm lying?" The clone smirked, the Atlantian, Martian, and the kid all looking on in anticipation.

"Yuh-huh!" The ginger nodded cornily, holding up the huge stack of cards he had gotten stuck with. Richard snickered through his panic, speedster seemed to call liar too often. "Cause I got all the threes!" He grinned, flipping the top two cards to reveal a seven and a four. "Boom!" He pushed the cards toward the groaning teen.

"Lying in front of Richard?" The leader teased, "What an awful example for our guppy." The past him laughed.

"Yeah Connor, thanks!"

"Like you haven't lied." Connor huffed, gathering his cards as his girlfriend patted his arm.

"Oh I have," mouths dropped at this revelation, "but you all doubted that I did and didn't call it!"

The little kid was laughing, "I'm callin' all yours now!"

"You'll end up with many cards, Guppy."

"Not as many as Wally's!"

"Come here you little—"Wally grabbed the kid, pulling him onto his lap. The boy was giggling, screeching as the ginger tickled his stomach. "I gottcha gottcha gottcha!"

"Augh, Wally! Lemme go!"

Richard turned away, his stomach seeming to give way to a pit of nothing-ness. He wanted this. He wanted to feel safe and loved like the past him and seemed. He wanted to laugh and play games, he had longed for love was a little kid. And they used that. They took him at his worst and tried to poison him. They didn't care, they didn't play with him. They probably kept him locked in a white room and feed him fake memories to turn him. If they wanted him on their side why didn't they really show him love? Master hadn't been…but Master's harsh treatment was to make him strong.

Master said the League was evil, they wanted to control him, and they didn't care. They weren't as good was Master. They didn't deserve to have him, only Master did. But that memory, that moment…it felt so real. In his chest, there was a warm glow. It felt…like it had happened. Why was this so confusing! Why did it feel real when Master said it was fake? Master was never wrong, but it was so real!

This was why Master called him insane, it was why he wasn't good enough because the League did this to him. But it felt REAL!

Richard blinked, stunned as he saw the room around him. He was the walls and computers that just screamed 'Justice League headquarters'. He was groggy, his chest feeling strange was he sat up. Sound was muffled, one of the reasons he probably didn't react as strongly to the people calling his name in surprise. He had to get out, he needed to get back to Master. He would let Master throw him off the lift if he would give him the meds. If Master would just take control again, it was all too confusing.

He batted weakly at the hands trying to get him to lay back down, his eyes frozen on the person the door had let in. Jason. It was Jason…it had to be. Red hair, muscle…this could be Jason five years later. He reached out, swinging his legs onto the floor. Trying to get to Jason, trying to get to someone safe. Jason understood, he had too! He called his name, the word coming out in a garbled mess. Jason's hands grabbed his arms, helping him stand.

"J-Jason…got to help me…please Jay…" He grabbed right back, staring at the concern in Jason's eyes.

"Dick?"

"Please…g-get me out…" His heart beat quickened as Jason let the hands grab him, as Jason let the League force him back down. "Jas-son? Jay?" He thrashed around, why was Jason letting them hurt him? Why was he letting them shove green pills down his throat? "Jay!" He choked, grabbing as the arms tried to keep them apart. He couldn't form the words he wanted. His fingers caught Jason's shirt, holding on for dear life.

Jason stared at him, a tear creeping down his face. Richard knew he matched. "Dick, we're going to help. The League will help."

A sad scream parted his lips. He didn't hear those words, Jason wasn't with them…he couldn't be. His hand fell from the shirt, he was too hurt to react to the straps being tightened over his body. He screamed, knowing he looked awful. Tears stormed his face, his eyes following the back of Jason. He screamed his name, begging the teen to save him. Snot was dripping down his face as he sobbed.

He was scared. Jason was with the League, Richard hiccupped his name. Begging the man to save him, 'don't let them hurt me'.

"P-Please! Jason! JASON!" He wailed, gagging on his own spit. "D-Don't leave m-m-me!"

He sounded pathetic, Master would be so disappointed in him.

Breakline

Roy slumped against the door. Hiding his tears. He could hear Dick's screams. He could hear him sobbing. Why his brother?

"Roy," he looked up, Tim speed walking down the hall, "what's going on?"

"He…Dick doesn't know Jason's dead."

AN) Well, that's all folks! I hope to update AitMS soon, as some have asked, but I'll have to see if I'm struck with an inspiration brick. Don't be too worried about me! I just wanted to let you know since you matter a lot to me. Cross Country practice and band camp start soon for me, as does a full family (aunts, uncles, cousins) vaca. I think I'll do okay once I'm with friends again! But still asking for prayer. I love ya'll bunches! Wow…I really need to figure out an outro…maybe like Thomas Sanders... well fanfam we'll see how this goes!