(A/N Warning! This chapter isn't for the faint of heart...)
Three Years Later...
Lance grabbed his opponent and threw him across the mat. The fighter was clever though, and used their momentum to propel themselves back to their feet. They then rushed Lance, who expertly parried and blocked every punch and kick that came his way. Lance then did a light nerve strike right between his foe's shoulder and neck, and they went down.
"Hey! That's cheating asshole!" Jason yelled up to Lance, who just laughed as he pulled Jason up off the floor.
"Rule one of a fight; There are no rules." He said sagely, and Jason scoffed.
"B says differently." Lance chuckled softly.
"Bruce says a lot of things. And normally he's right." Lance says, as he passes a bottle of water to Jason, who greedily gulps it down.
"But a fight isn't fair. It's a brawl, plain and simple. Learn how your enemy fights. How they expect you to fight. Then counter it." Jason looks up at him wearily, and Lance just smiles.
"You've been doing great Jason. Almost a full year and you can keep up with me and Dick." Jason just groans.
"Yeah well, when I can actually beat one of you asshats, I'll feel better." The young teen says, and Lance laughs.
"Race you to dinner? Loser washes dishes?" Lance barely finishes his sentence before he takes off from the training mats, and heads for the stairs. Jason barely manages to beat him to them, and then rushes up the metal walkway like his life depends on it. By the time Lance makes it up out of the Cave, he doesn't even see Jason.
He tries to take a shortcut, but once he reaches the kitchen, Jason is already sitting down, a shit eating grin on his face. Lance breaths in and out a few times, and chuckles as he sits down.
"Why am I the slowest in the family?" He asks, and Jason pats his hand in a patronizing way.
"You're getting old Bru." Jason says, and Lance bursts into laughter. At that moment, Bruce and Dick both walk into the room as well.
"Dick!" Lance says, his eyes lighting up as his older brother gives him a hug. Lance hugs him back just as tightly.
"I thought you had a mission with the Titans?" Lance asks, and Dick just smiles his patented Grayson Grin at him.
"Yeah but I finished it as soon as I could. Not even a clone army of Luthor's could keep me from missing my favorite brother's sweet sixteen." He says, (as if Kori couldn't convince him to stay) and Bruce smiles as Jason gives Dick a death glare.
"What the fuck am I? Chopped liver?" Jason says, and Lance and Dick laugh as Bruce raises an eyebrow. He opens his mouth, presumably to chastise Jason for his potty mouth, but someone else beats him to it.
"Language, master Jason." Alfred says, as he comes in with dinner on, very literally a silver platter. Jason grumbles as the family laughs.
"Barbara is gonna try to make it within the hour. She's busy at the library, but she's finishing up." Bruce says, and Lance nods. He hopes she can make it here. Alfred sets out their plates and before long they're digging in.
"So how is Jason's training going?" Bruce asks, and Lance smiles.
"Pretty good honestly. I figure another month, maybe two and he can be Robin." Jason whips his head around to stare at Lance.
"What are you gonna be then?" Jason asks. Dick immediately smiles.
"He'll be Flamebird of course! I need my parter in mythological solidarity after all." Lance snorts.
"Yeah, no. Jason can be Flamebird when he's older. I..." Lance trails off. He's not sure actually what he wants to be. Really, Jason could have taken over as Robin a few months ago. But Lance... He's not ready yet. Being Robin has been the best years of his life, and he can't part with it. Not yet.
Still, he knows that he's had his time in the suit. And he knows Jason will enjoy it even more than he does. So he needs to think of something. While he's lost in thought, Bruce just smiles at him.
"I'm sure you'll think of something soon. Just let me know whatever new suit you want and I'll get it made." Now that, that is something Lance can get behind. He smiles.
"Yeah I'll definitely think of something soon." He promises. Jason says something rude to Dick and the two get into a half hearted, good natured argument. Lance is happy. He honestly, really is.
(...)
Barbara shows up not long after dinner is ate. Alfred offers to make her a plate, but she declines.
"I'd much rather have cake." She says, a glint in her eyes, and the family all smile at that. Lance raises an eyebrow.
"Where is my cake anyway?" He asks. As if on cue, Slade Wilson walks in. Not Deathstroke, Slade. Lance blinks. He doesn't think he's ever seen Slade out of costume before. Dick smiles widely.
"It's about time." The man grumbles, a large cake in his hands.
"Been hiding for almost three hours with this thing." Slade puts the cake on the dining room table, and Lance chokes back a laugh as Dick rushes up to hug the guy.
"They've been hiding you here for how long?" Dick ask as Slade huffs, returning Dick's hug. Barbara gives him a friendly wave, and Slade nods at her.
"Well Wayne didn't want me to ruin the surprise for my two favorite Titans." Bruce just smiled back at the Terminator, though it was more of a grin with teeth. Lance always did like their weird pseudo rivalry.
"Man it's been months! We haven't seen you at the Tower either!" Dick says, and Slade just chuckles as he takes a seat.
"Been a very busy man Grayson. But I should be free for now at least." Lance gives Slade a fist bump.
"We better see you at the Tower. The others are getting rusty without you there." Lance says, causing Slade to laugh. Honest to God above LAUGH.
"Even Rose and Grant? You'd think I'd have taught those two better by now." Slade says, and Alfred comes in with new plates and forks.
"Shall I cut the cake, or do you want to master Lance?" Alfred asks, and Lance stands up, and opens the box the cake came in. It's all chocolate, with a bit of strawberry icing that spells out:
Happy birthday Lance!
There's even a small bird; a Robin, right underneath the handwriting. Lance smiles, as he looks around at his family, plus Slade and... And Barbara. He hopes he's not being so obvious, and he shakes his head.
"I love you guys." He says, and the room lights up, as everyone sings to him. Alfred starts placing candles on the cake, and lights them up once he's finished. Just as the song ends, he blows out the candles. He doesn't make a wish.
Everything he has, is more than enough.
(...)
It's not four hours later that things take a turn for the worst. An Arkham breakout happened. Everyone was out, even Slade managed to get Bruce to let him to help. They never work together (for obvious reasons). The group all had to spread out, since nearly every Rogue was present tonight. Batman went after Scarecrow by the Tricorner Docks, Nightwing was chasing down Two-Face in Somerset. Batgirl was fighting against Penguin in the Iceberg Lounge (while this wasn't related to the breakout, they had finally gotten evidence on Cobblepot and they weren't going to let it go to waste). Deathstroke was going after Mr. Freeze over in Crime Alley.
And that left Robin to hunt down... Calender Man. Yep. Calender Man. Lance protested, but Bruce wasn't having it. As Robin swung through the air, the Diamond District rapidly approaching, he was grumbling to himself.
"Calender Man is the last threat left Robin. He's plenty dangerous Robin. You need to take him down fast Robin." Lance said mockingly as he landed on a rooftop. He grit his teeth as he put a finger up to his ear.
"This is Robin, can anyone respond? Where exactly was Calender Man last seen?" He gets no response, and sighs heavily. Fine. He'd do this the old fashioned way. Robin took out a pair of bioniculars and scanned the area. He took in every detail around him as he investigated the area. As he swung further into the Diamond District, it got harder and harder to find buildings low enough to grapple to. He eventually settled for searching on foot.
Robin took in every alley that he passed, yet he still didn't see hide nor hair of Calender Man. He walks into an alley and presses his hand to his ear again.
"This is Robin, can anyone respond?" He asks. There's no answer again, but this time there's static. He frowns. They had Bat tech. There's never static. As he tries to contact them again, he suddenly feels a hard hit against the back of his head. He's unconscious before he hits the ground.
(...)
He wakes up once or twice, but it's so difficult for him to stay awake that he thinks he might be drugged. Each time he wakes up, he catalogs something different. At first, he's in a car or something. He can hear people talking, but he can't make anything out. The next time he wakes up, he's being dragged somewhere. He tries, he really does, to stay awake. To get more details. But he can't. He goes right back under.
The third time he wakes up, he's finally in a more aware state than he was previously. But his hands and legs are both cuffed and tied to a chair. Someone really doesn't want him getting out. He raises his head once he's sure he's alone. He frowns deeply. He's in a small room. It's about as big as his bathroom at home. The walls are dirty or rusty, and there's a single light on right above him.
There's also a camera in the corner to his left. He nearly curses. He guesses he can't fake being asleep when someone walks in. He subtly tests his restraints. They are on tight. Very tight. He gulps. He's not getting out of this without help. The single door in the room opens up, and there stands the Joker. Robin scowls.
"I didn't think you escaped from Arkham." He says with a growl, and the clown just laughs at him.
"Aww, it's been a while Robbie! Aren't you excited to see uncle J?" The clown asks, and Robin smirks.
"Not really. Kinda wished you'd chocked on the scrap of food they feed you in Arkham." The Joker stops smiling. He walks up to Robin and backhands him across the face. It barely hurts. The Joker isn't a fighter after all.
"Now now, we're going to have to work on that mouth of yours." He says, and then grins.
"And the food here isn't all bad! Why just a few hours ago they served roast beef!" Robin's eyes narrow at those words.
"'Here?'" He asks, and the Joker laughs.
"Yessy doodle, here! Right in Arkham!" Lance swallows air. The Joker didn't escape. Which means... No one's going to suspect Joker took him.
"Now, I have a very important question to ask Robbie..." The Joker says, as he pulls a small table into the room. Robin's heart drops. There's... Drills and knives and... He almost throws up.
"Would you like something sharp, or something hard?" Robin doesn't answer. He just stares up at the clown. The Joker grins wildly.
"Both it is!"
(...)
Blood drips off of the R on his uniform. Lance watches it carefully, trying to tune out the Joker. A stabbing pain in his thigh brings him back though.
"Robbie! Don't ignore me! Honestly... children, they never learn do they?" He says to himself, and Lance whimpers in pain. He hates feeling so weak, but he can't take it. The Joker has an IV going into his arm. It's what's keeping him alive. Lance wants to rip it out. He wants the Joker to kill him already.
The Joker smacks Lance on the face, hard enough to make the teen scream.
"I told you not to ignore me Robbie!" The Joker yells, and Lance feels the tears fall. He mumbled something. The Joker rips the knife out of his thigh. Lance screams.
"I'm sorry, what did you say Robbie? Couldn't quite hear you?" He says, a smile on his face.
"I'm... I'm sorry uncle J." Lance says through his tears. The Joker smiles.
"Daw I can't stay mad at you Robbie! Tell you what, I'll give you a few hours to rest, that sounds good?" The Joker almost sounds like he cares. Almost. Lance shakily nods his head. The Joker laughs.
"Have a good night Robbie!" He says, and turns around. As he opens the door, the Joker smacks himself in the face.
"Oh wait! I forgot! I have to give you your present first!" The clown turns around, and grabs a large, sharp looking knife from off the table. Lance's eyes widened.
"Please no. Please uncle J." He begs. The Joker frowns.
"It will only take a second Robbie! I need to give you a special present! After all..." The Joker says, as he starts to cut deeply into Lance's face. Lance does his best to hold still.
He still screams.
"Six months is a long time, and I'm proud of you for lasting this long!" The clown says, and then starts to laugh maniacally as he finishes carving a large J into the side of Lance's face.
(...)
Uncle J bursts into the room, an excited look on his face.
"Robbie, Robbie wake up!" He says, smacking the sleeping teen in the head. Lance groans softly.
"What... What do you want?" He asks carefully. The Joker just laughs.
"Take a look at this! I got a laugh out of it!" He holds up a newspaper, Lance's eyes go wide.
A new Boy Wonder!? Robin returns!
Lance would recognize his brother anywhere. The picture in the front was Batman standing near... Near Robin. He's smiling, while Robin is glaring at the camera with his classic grin.
Lance can't breath. Jason is... Jason is Robin. They haven't... Did they... Not even try to find him? Do they not... Not even care? He starts to tear up. Uncle J pats his head.
"There there... You'll always be my Robbie!" He says, and then laughs.
"Speaking off, how about we see exactly what's under that mask?" Uncle J grabs the domino mask. And pulls. And pulls.
Until Lance is screaming. Until he feels flesh being pulled with it.
(...)
"So, tell the nice camera your name Robbie?" Uncle J asks him.
"... Lance Bruner." The Joker laughs. "Brucie Wayne's kid! That's hilarious! How about the Bratgirl?"
"Barbara Gordon." The Joker gasps.
"The commissioners daughter!? Oh she's been a naughty girl." The Joker cackles.
"How about... Batman?"
"... Batman is-" A loud gunshot erupts, and Lance falls to the floor.
"Sorry Batsy! I figured there should still be some secrets between us!" The Joker laughs once more, Lance's still body twitching on the ground.
(...)
Uncle J had managed to patch up the gunshot wound. Lance really didn't know how he was still alive. He really wished he wasn't...
(...)
"How do you feel about the drills today Lancy!?"
(...)
"Hmm, maybe a hammer? Oh! No, I've got it! A blowtorch!"
(...)
Uncle J walks into the room, a birthday hat on his head, and in his hands. He pops a thing of confetti, and blows into a kazoo.
"Happy birthday Lancy!" He says, putting the cap on Lance's head. He then takes a selfie of the two. Uncle J coos at the picture, and the sheds a fake tear.
"They all grow up so fast." He says, before he jams a knife into Lance's leg. The teen just cries. Uncle J sighs.
"You know Lancy, you're not much fun anymore. I think it's time that I'm gonna have to let you go." The teen looks up at the clown, his eyes glazed over.
"... What?" Uncle J smiles.
"Yep! I'm gonna leave Arkham tonight! Surely with me being gone you'll finally be able to put that escape plan into action!" Uncle J says, and Lance just looks down at the ground. Uncle J laughs.
"Well I better get out of your hair! And oh!" He says, as he pulls the IV out of Lance's arm.
"This silly thing will just get in the way." He then knocks the IV over, and laughs.
"I'll see you around Lancy, I'll miss you!" The clown says, as he walks away, laughing as he slams the door. Lance doesn't even look up from the ground.
He just cries.
(...)
Deathstroke was tired. He just needed to get in, kill Dent and get out. There was a pretty penny on his head and that's what mattered the most right now. Breaking into Arkham was laughably easy. It's no wonder that Wayne's Rogues regularly were able to escape this place. Still, it did make his job easier at least. Now all he had to do was go to Dent's cell and murder the bastard. As he stalked through the halls, carefully and silently, he noticed something. A small amount of blood.
Deathstroke frowned, as he walked over to the small drops on the floor. He noticed that there was more drops, one heading towards the east part of Arkham, and another heading north. He chews on his lip, and then weighs the pros and cons of heading off.
Eh, Dent can die anytime. But, he was always a man of his word, so he couldnt just abandon the job. but he was extremely curious. After some deliberation, he makes up his mind.
He walks north, the blood spots getting smaller and smaller, until they eventually stopped entirely. He almost leaves, but figures that maybe the other path will lead to something. So, he goes back. Deathstroke follows the east path this time. He walks down the halls, carefully avoiding detection, and the blood trail stays roughly the same as it was before. Oddly enough, it seems to disappear into a cell. Deathstroke is smart. You have to be, being in the game this long.
He goes into the cell, a flashlight in hand. He touches the walls, feeling for any pressure plate or false sections. He eventually gets lucky, and pushes in on a particularly small part of the wall. When he does this, the back wall slides back a good five or six feet. Deathstroke slides into the wall, and walks down a very narrow hallway. There's nothing down it. He grumbles to himself that this is nothing more than a waste of time, but as he turns, he notices the blood going into the wall.
He looks at the wood more carefully. It's not a wall at all. It's a door. He pushes against it, and nothing happens. He then punches into the wall, and his hand easily goes through. He feels for a door knob or anything of the sort, and he finds it. Deathstroke opens the door, and his eyes go wide.
The room is small, but still big enough for a table with all sorts of... Tools on it. A knocked over IV stand is nearby. But what really catches his attention, is Robin. Not Jason. Lance. He almost wants to puke. Near seven decades of experience and training stop him from doing so. There's dried and fresh blood, all around Lance and the room itself.
And Lance...
His blond hair is stained with blood. The skin around his eyes is practically gone, the flesh and muscle under it visible, and his eyes are dull, and glazed over. There's numerous stab and burn wounds all over the kid, from his shoulders to his feet. His Robin outfit hangs off of him, barely holding on. He can see the kid's ribs through the damn thing. He doesn't move. Not for near a minute, not until he notices Lance breathing.
"Lance, LANCE!" He screams, as he rushes over to the boy. He takes in the rope and cuffs around both of his legs and arms. He rips the the bindings off of him. Lance barely looks up.
"... Slade?" He asks, his voice so raw, so drained... Slade hasn't let his anger get the better of him in years. Right now, it takes everything he has to stop himself from asking where the Joker is.
"It's me kid, it's me. I've got you now." Lance just looks down at the ground. He starts to cry.
"Please..." He starts to say, as Slade tries to pick him up off the chair. Lance cries out in pain as Slade touches him.
"Sorry! Sorry, I just... I just need to figure this out." Slade says. Lance manages to look up at Slade this time.
"Please just kill me."
The words make Slade's blood turn cold. He almost gives in to the rage. Almost. He doesn't. He takes a small syringe from his pocket, and reaches for another one in a separate pouch.
"I'm going to save you kid. I promise." He injects the morphine into Lance, well aware of what could happen with his body like this. He doesn't have time to debate with himself. Slade then injects another drug into Lance, and the kid's eyes close slowly.
He doesn't care about Dent. Not one bit. He rushes out the hallway, and practically destroys the secret entrance. Slade couldn't carry Lance past that narrow space.
There's only one thing he knows of that can save Lance right now. He has to take him back home.
He just hopes Lance will live long enough.