Slade rushed to get Lance to the outskirts of Gotham. He had a small, private plane that he owned. Slade used it to travel wherever he needed to go. It was small and inconspicuous. No one had ever seen it, much less rode in it besides him and the kids. As he looked into the back seat, and saw Lance still breathing - albeit way too shallow - he figured that there was a first time for everything.

He stopped the small van as soon as he got there, and carried the boy out and into the plane. He quickly walked over to a seat, laid it back as far as he could, and strapped Lance in. He checked his pulse one more time. It was still there... But it was weak. Slade didn't like this. He had a four hour flight ahead of him. He wished he'd grabbed Grayson, but he didn't have the time. As it stood, he needed to get home an hour ago.

He rushed over into the cockpit and started the process of getting the plane airbound. Slade prayed. For the first time in decades, he prayed. For whichever god was out there to keep Lance alive.

(...)

It was the longest ride of Slade's life. He kept putting the plane in auto pilot to go check on the kid. Lance died. Twice. Slade brought him back both times.

For a short time, he considered it. Listening to Lance's request. But... Call Slade selfish if you want, he couldn't do it. Couldn't kill the kid. And he wouldn't let him die either. Even if what he was going to do to him could result in a fate worse than death.

As Slade neared his home, he called his son.

"Joey? You there?" He says into his phone. His son yawned.

"Yeah dad? What's up?" Slade sighed.

"I need you to grab the... The thing." He didn't want to chance that someone was on his line. His son went quiet.

"Dad, what's wrong? You don't... You aren't hurt are you?" Slade laughed mirthlessly.

"Not physically. But it's not for me. Meet me at the usual spot. And make sure you have it." His son didn't respond. Not at first.

"Alright, I'm heading there now. ETA is an hour, maybe fifty minutes." Slade nodded, though his son couldn't see it.

"I'm an hour and ten out. Maybe a little more if turbulence hits." Slade went quiet, and then gulped down air.

"You know I love you. Right Joey?" Joey chocked back... Something. A snort or a sob.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Slade didn't want to say it. Not in case the fucking Bats could hear.

"I'll be there soon. Deathstroke out." He says, and hangs up. Great. He's getting all sappy. He sighed heavily. This life had taken its toll on him. And Lance... He grips the plane wheel tightly.

Lance was in for it too. No matter what, Lance was going to live.

(...)

As he landed the plane safely, he saw Joey waving to him by his motorcycle. Slade hated the damn thing, but it made his boy happy. So he couldn't say much.

That didn't mean he didn't say a few things though. Case in point...

"Joseph Wilson, I will take your license away if you ride that bike with dangerous, volatile substances again." He says as he exits the plane. He goes for a quick, though strong hug. Joey gives him one just as strong back.

"I have the Mirakuru here." His son says, no nonsense, as he pulls the bright blue vial from his pocket. Slade takes it, and rushes back inside the plane. Joey follows him. Before Slade can even tell him to leave, Joey's eyes widened as he sees Lance. He rushes over to the older teen.

"Holy... Holy shit..." He breaths out. Slade kneels down besides Lance, and shakes him awake. It takes far too long for Lance to respond.

"... Why don't... Why didn't you-" Slade puts a hand on Lance's shoulder. Lance winces.

"I'm guessing you don't really want to die. You just want the pain to end." He says. Lance just blinks at Slade. After a few moments, he nods shakily. Slade gulps, and then raises up the Mirakuru.

"This is going to save you. But it has side effects. Nasty ones. It will take time to learn how to control it." Lance seems to barely register what he's saying.

"Just make... Make it all stop." Slade turns to Joey.

"Joe, get back home. Call Grant and Rose and get them back here. Don't tell anyone else about anything. Not the Titans or the-" Joey quickly nodded.

"Yeah... Yeah ok." He glances to take a look back at Lance, and then runs off of the plane. Slade uncapped the Mirakuru, and then sighed.

"I'm sorry kid. Really." He jams the needle into Lance's neck, and injects the Mirakuru.

Lance's screams will never leave Slade. Ever.

(...)

There's flashes. Lance doesn't quite understand most of them. They don't, they... They aren't him. And yet, they are. He punches Slade. Nearly chokes him out. And then suddenly he sees himself raising up from the backseat of a car, about to hurt Joey. He stops himself at the last second. Joey was nice. Definitely his favorite of Slade's kids.

There's a few more flashes, but he doesn't have the energy to try to make sense of them.

(...)

A beeping wakes Lance up. He groans in pain, and then turns over to get back to sleep. His eyes opened suddenly. The Joker didn't let him lay down. He looks around the room. It's a... A makeshift hospital room. Lance slowly sits up. He knows he can't be in good shape, and he doesn't need to aggravate any of his injuries. And yet... As he sits up, there's nothing but dull pain. Lance holds back a sob.

Did... Did his dad save him? He takes a look down at his arms, and sees multiple IVs in them. He reaches up to touch his face, afraid of what he might find. But... He feels skin. Slightly raw skin, yes, but skin nonetheless. He could cry. And if he did, at least it wouldn't hurt him anymore. He clocks movement in the corner of his eye, and sees a door opening.

Slade walks through it. Huh... He does vaguely remember seeing Slade in... In that... He starts to breath heavily.

"Lance? Lance you ok?" Slade asks, as he comes over to his side. It takes Lance a little bit, but he nods slowly.

"I... I'm good. I think." Slade smiles at him, but it's a soft one.

"You'll probably never be fine again." Lance doesn't know why, but that makes him angry. Really angry.

Unnaturally angry.

"Fuck you." He breaths out, and Slade raises his arms.

"I didn't mean anything by it Lance. I'm glad that you're alive." Lance scowls at Slade for a few moments, before calming down. That wasn't normal. Not at all. He runs a hand through his hair.

"I dunno what... I'm sorry. Thanks for saving me." He says, and Slade raises an eyebrow.

"You're welcome kid. You're welcome." He takes a seat, and passes a glass of water over to Lance. The teen drinks it. Water has never tasted so good in his life. He drinks the entire glass in seconds. Slade chuckles.

"We'll get some food in you later." Lance almost says he wants food now. But he can wait. Slade seems uneasy in his seat and for some reason, it's pissing Lance off. Again.

"Spit it out Wilson, fuck, you gonna just squirm like that all day?" As soon as the words leave him, Lance regrets it. He quickly opens his mouth to apologize, but Slade just laughs.

"Suprised that you're already talking to me. Normally the drug makes you a raging lunatic." Lance narrows his eyes. He's a detective. Raised by the best. His body is feeling much better than it should be. His face is fixed. The wounds he has... They shouldn't be healed. Even if he was in a coma for a decade, he'd still be fucked up tremendously from what's happened. And now Slade's mentioned a drug. That apparently would make him a violent maniac.

And he remembers the flashes. He shakes his head.

"What's going... What's going on?" He asks. Slade sighs.

"I've kept this part of my life a secret for a very long time... What do you know about my superhuman abilities?" Lance almost gets angry again for the deflection, but sighs instead.

"Nothing. Batman tried to dig into you a lot a couple years ago. He didn't find much." Slade nodded.

"Yeah I imagine he wouldn't know much. Everyone who made me this way is dead and gone. And the research is too." He's quiet for a moment, and then he stands up, and starts pacing the room.

"It was almost fourty years ago now. I had just turned fifty." Lance's eyes widened. Slade didn't look a day past... Well, he looked like he was in his fifties. Slade grinned.

"I was on a mission with my partner Billy. Long story short, we were tasked with killing a tyrant on an island in the middle of the Chinese seas." He sighs heavily.

"We both got caught early on. The tyrant told us we could either join him, or we could die. Billy decided to take him up on his offer... And then he kicked me off of a cliff." Lance frowned. He didn't know any of this. Slade laughed.

"I had a broken leg, arm and probably a few cracked ribs. But see... Providence is a hell of a thing." Lance chewed his lip. A part of him wanted Slade to get on with it. He had to stop himself from screaming at the man.

"Right where I fell, there was a small cave. I knew I was going to die soon, so I figured I may as well get into the cold, damp crevice and let nature take its course." He then smiled.

"I found a small, makeshift lab not a few hundred feet in. Papers and white boards. All sorts of calculations that I didn't understand... But what I did understand was that whoever was down there, was trying to make a serum. A serum to make the perfect soldier." Lance couldn't hold himself back anymore.

"So what, you found the last vial, and miraculously it worked, and then you murdered everyone on the island?" Slade didn't pay any attention to the rudeness. Instead, he smiled.

"Got it in one kid... Though there was two working vials." Lance rolled his eyes. Of course he was right. Why not? He immediately felt bad, and then Slade put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's called the Mirakuru. I never found out much more besides what was in the notes. And I've not had many people look at the test results over the years. Essentially, it's like Venom, but more potent. And you only have to use it once." Lance nodded slowly.

"So... You found me in Arkham, saved me, and gave me a drug that healed me, and also gives me super strength, anger issues, and also apparently slows down the aging process?" Slade nodded.

"Pretty much kid, pretty much." Slade then took a deep breath.

"It took nearly two full decades before I could learn to control my anger. And it took another ten for me to be able to ensure I don't lose control of myself. We're in for a long-term training session kid." Lance put his face in his hands. He laughed softly.

"I can't... I can't thank you enough for saving me." He says, and then his eyes widened.

"Bruce! And Dick! And- I need to tell them I'm-" Slade's eyes get darker at the mention of Bruce, and Lance stops.

"Don't tell me something happened to Bruce." He says softly, and Slade shakes his head.

"Wayne is fine. It's just... Jason is Robin now-" Lance laughs, a little louder this time.

"Yeah... Yeah Joker showed me a newspaper article. I don't mind. I was going to give him Robin anyway." Yeah it did hurt that they just assumed he was dead, but still, they're his family. Even if Bruce could be a dick (heh) sometimes. Slade lowers his head. Lance fights back anger. He needs to be in control.

"Slade, what aren't you telling me?" Slade raises his head and huffs out air.

"Tell me... Do you remember telling the Joker who you and Gordon were?" Lance's eyes widened.

"I'd never do that!" He screams. Slade tenses up, and for a moment, Lance considers hitting him, but then... a flash hits his head. He's in a dark room, darker than the one he was usually in. Joker was asking him questions. At first, he didn't answer. But...

But then he did. And then Joker shot him. Holy shit... They think he's dead. And a traitor.

"I need to call them. Need to let them know I'm alive and that I'm sorry-" Slade puts a hand on his shoulder, and sighs again.

"Wayne was angry when you were taken. He was desperate to find you. The Joker sent a video of him torturing you. And at the end... You told him about you and you told the Joker about Gordon. Everyone saw him shoot you. They think you're dead..." Slade pauses for a second.

"The Joker also killed commissioner Gordon. And Wayne was furious about you giving up your identity. Gordon also... Said some things." Lance had to know. What...

"What do you mean furious... What things?" Slade looked uneasy, but a sharp glare from Lance had him spit it out.

"Gordon told Grayson she wished that all of them had never met you."

(...)

Lance came to underneath Deathstroke's feet.

"Lance! Calm down!" Was he calm? He didn't know. He knew he had tears in his eyes. He took deep breaths. Calming techniques that Bruce had taught him.

Bruce...

"What about Bruce? He... He'd still be glad to know I'm alive? Even if he... Even if he hates me?" Slade kept his feet on Lance's back, but he did shake his head.

"There was a memorial for you in the Cave. Gordon smashed it out of rage. Wayne never fixed it."

(...)

"... That bastard!" Lance yelled, his eyes glowing bright blue, and tears streaming down his face.

"He was my father! My everything! I loved him!" He started to thrash around more. Slade learned years back that the rage had to let itself out.

"And Barbara... We... She..." More tears went down his face, and soon Lance was sobbing. Slade knew he'd fancied Gordon. Hell he was pretty sure everyone knew.

"She told me she'd wait for me. Said she'd wait! She'd... She'd wait." Slade raised an eyebrow there. How long ago did she tell him this? Slade shook his head. Didn't matter now.

Lance was crying himself into a mess on the floor, his eyes going back to their natural blue color. He was still crying on the floor. Slade carefully picked the boy back up. (He was much heavier than before. The Mirakuru did wonders for the boy's body. Just under a week and he was already looking a lot better).

The kid stayed still, though not quiet in Slade's arms as he laid him back on the bed.

"... What about Dick? And Jason?" Slade was glad to give him good news.

"Grayson punched Wayne the last time they talked apparently. He hasn't gone back to Gotham since." He then smiled.

"And Todd is a little scrapper. He's staying with Wayne, but it's pretty clear that their relationship is strained."

(...)

On one hand, Lance was glad that at least Dick and Jason still cared. But on the other... If he hadn't been so weak, Bruce would still have a relationship with the... With his sons, and Barbara's dad would still be alive. Lance was heartbroken. He couldn't believe he'd done that. His- Bruce taught him better than that. He did. Lance almost started to cry again, but he couldn't bare to sob any longer. He wiped his face with his hands, and sat back up. He noticed that the IVs in him were gone. He must have ripped them out when he went into a rage. He turns to Slade, his face hardend as much as he can make it.

"Teach me how to control the rage. I don't need to black out and nearly kill someone just because I don't like what they said." Slade smiled softly at that.

"Sure thing kid. First thing tomorrow. Right now, you need to eat something." Lance opened his mouth to argue, but Slade glared at him.

"The Mirakuru isn't a miracle worker kid. You went over a year without food or liquids. The drug can do a lot. And I mean a lot, but you still need to make sure your body is in good shape." Lance just scoffed.

"Fine. Whatever." Slade stalked out of the room, but before he closed the door, he turns back around.

"The kids are all here. They might want to come say hi." He closes the door before Lance can interject.

"Fuck you Wilson." He says softly.

(...)

It was a nice night in Gotham. For once, you could easily see stars in the sky. Robin and Batgirl had patrolled together, jumping across rooftops. They laughed and joked around as they hunted down muggers and thugs. Late in the night, the two grabbed a chili dog appeice, and sat together on a fire escape.

"Man, I think tonight has been the best night of my life." Robin says, as he turns to look at Batgirl. Her smile was more beautiful than all the stars in the sky. She laughed softly.

"Careful. Keep looking at a girl like that, and they might think you're smitten." She says, and Robin just smiles.

"What if I am smitten though?" Batgirl is still smiling, though it's a bit more subdued.

"Well, normally the older person is supposed to set the younger person straight." She says, and then smiles a little wider.

"But in a few years, when the younger person is say, twenty, and the older person is twenty four? That would be fine." Robin swore he couldn't smile harder. But when Batgirl gave him a kiss on the cheek? He smiled harder than the Joker.

(...)

Lance's eyes shot open at the thought of that fucking clown. He sat up, and yawned. He stretched for a moment, and then he took a whiff of the air. Food. Delicious smelling food. The best kind. He carefully stood up, and walked over to the door. Lance jiggles the door handle a bit, just to see if Slade has him locked in. He thankfully doesn't.

He opens the door and stalks down the hall to the left. Lance hears laughter and voices coming from a room on the right, and he opens the door to a large kitchen. Slade was at the stove, Grant by his side. Rose was close to Joey, both on their phones. Rose scoffed at the sight of him as he sat at the end of the table.

"Think you can eat without roiding out?" She asks, her tone very condescending. Slade turns and is about to say something, but Lance just laughs. It's all teeth though, with no humor.

"I've had a bad year Rosie. Don't test me." Rose raises an eyebrow, but Joey seemingly kicks her foot from underneath the table. Grant waves carefully to Lance from across the room. Lance just lets his head hit the table. The laughter and conversations from before had halted. Lance knew the silence needed to be broken, so he decides to stick with a safe topic.

"So how's the Titans?" He asks, his voice barely muffled by the wood. Grant chuckles.

"Doing good. Got a few new members. They're not totally helpless, so that's something." Lance looks up and whistles.

"High praise coming from the Ravager." Rose whips her head so fast, Lance thought it was going to fall off.

"I'm Ravager now." Lance frowns.

"Really? What's Grant then?" He asks. Slade laughs.

"The Ravenger." Lance blinks. Then he bursts into laughter. Joey quickly follows suit.

"Dude! Seriously!?" Lance asks, Grant shrugs, but he's seemingly amused by the conversation.

"Well I knew Rose wanted the title, and Joey goes by the Revenger now so-" Lance laughs even harder. Slade rolls his eyes.

"Despite how bad my kids are at naming things, they are the deadliest teens in the world." He says, and Grant frowns.

"Dad I'm twenty two." Slade grins.

"As I said, the deadliest teens in the world." Lance manages to stop laughing, but only barely. Slade reaches into the oven and pulls out a turkey. Lance blinks several times. He then notices all the other food out on the table.

"It's Thanksgiving?" He says, and Slade nods. Then Lance snorts.

"You guys are Australian!" Rose scoffs.

"Oh really? I never would have guessed." Joey laughs.

"We do, however, love food." He says, as if that makes all the sense in the world. It doesn't. Not really. But Lance isn't in a position to judge. Slade starts to carve the turkey as the the four teens engage in conversation. Well, Rose just insults the other three. Still, it's not the worst Thanksgiving Lance has ever had.

The four get to eating, and Lance decides to bring up a touchy subject.

"So. My rage training. What we doing?" Slade looks up at him from his plate. He winks. He fucking winks at him. Rose simply smiles evily, the sadistic bitch.

... That was a bit more rude than he wanted it to be.

"Well I am all for trying to trigger your rage. Would also be fun to kick your ass." Lance just smiles back.

"I forgot how much I hate you." He says, and Rose laughs.

"The feeling is mutual." Lance then scrunches up his face.

"Fuck now I have to like you. I don't want to agree with you on anything." Joey and Grant laugh. Rose almost stabs him.

All in all, it's a normal dinner. Once he's done, Slade sends him back to the room he was in before. Lance laid down, but everytime he closes his eyes, he's back in Arkham. Back with the Joker. It takes far too long before he can fall asleep.

(...)

The next morning, Slade wakes Lance up at six. Lance almost attacks him, but Slade easily flips Lance off of the bed, and onto the floor.

"Get ready kid. I'm giving you ten minutes to get dressed and come down stairs." Lance coughs as he stands up.

"With whose clothes am I getting dressed?" He asks. Slade points to a dresser near by. Lance stands up and walks over to it. He pulls out an old shirt of Grant's he recognizes, as well as a pair of Joey's pants. He quickly puts them on and exits the room, heading downstairs.

It was a smaller home than the... Than what he was used to, so he easily was able to navigate it. At the bottom of the steps was Slade, dressed in his Deathstroke gear. The older man opened the front door, and Lance stalked outside. In the front yard, Rose was in a modified version of the Ravager costume. He sees what he assumes has to be Grant in a thinner version of Deathstroke's outfit, though the orange is green.

He looks back at Deathstroke.

"So what? You three are just gonna beat on me until I can control my anger?" The silence spoke volumes. Lance sighs heavily, and then grins.

"Well... Ok."

(A/N So in terms of ages here, Lance is just over 17. Grant is 22, as was said, Rose is 19 and Joey is 15. Dick is three years older than Lance and Jason is three years younger. That should be good enough for now I think.)