Welcome back everyone! Here's the next chapter finally! Sorry it took so long but my musical opened the week before last, and once it closed my other show opened the next week. But they are both over so I can focus on writing again! Yay!

I do not own Young Justice

Chapter 8: Memory

(Dick's P.O.V)

"Let's call J'onn"

Dick gaped at Bruce's back, his thoughts growing more and more panicked. So there wasn't a chip? He wasn't being controlled by some outside force? This was all his doing? Why wouldn't Bruce turn around?

He's going to abandon you

'No,' Dick thought, 'he wouldn't... would he? Why wouldn't he turn around!?'

He doesn't care about you

Oh God, the voice was right! Bruce didn't love him anymore. He was going to take him back to Arkham! He was going to abandon him again! He would-

"Dick?" Someone grabbed him.

(Flashback)

Hands. Strong hands. Pinning his arms and legs. Thick straps cutting into his skin, binding him to the metal chair. There was so much noise it was overwhelming.

People running around, metal banging, white coats flashing.

"Hold him down! Grab his leg! Shit, someone get a doctor in here!"

Someone was screaming. Was it him?

"No! Please! I'm innocent! I didn't mean to! Stop! Please!"

A face. Someone he knew. Holding his head, pressing it back against the head rest.

"Now, now Renegade, calm down. This is going to make all the confusion go away. Just relax. Take a deep breath."

That voice was so familiar. He breathed. He tried to lie still.

The face smiled. "Good boy."

The hand on his forehead disappeared. Instead it was replaced with another strap.

Then... pain.

Unimaginable pain.

More screaming, was it him? It didn't matter, he couldn't seem to form coherent thoughts. He tried to struggle, but the restraints held him fast. He just wanted to black out, for the nightmare to end. It was too much for his system.

The pain.

The lightning.

The screaming.

(End of Flashback)

"RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON!"

Dick jerked violently, and probably would've split his head open on the edge of the exam table if there weren't two hands holding his head in place. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was. Wasn't he back in Arkham? All the florescent lights made it hard to see. And why couldn't he move his head? Let go! LET GO!

He lashed out with his left leg, hard, and felt it connect with something solid. He heard a grunt and suddenly the pressure around his head vanished. He didn't stop to see what he'd hit, he just stumbled to his feet and blindly ran toward the door.

He had to escape, had to get out, had to- oomph!

Someone hit him hard in the back and tackled him to the floor.

"Richard! Richard snap out of it!"

That voice. He knew that voice didn't he? Bruce? Why was Bruce here? This was Arkham wasn't it?

Dick's thrashing calmed down a bit, and he began to register more of his surroundings.

He was lying on his chest. On the floor. With someone heavy -Bruce, his rational mind supplied - on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

"B-Br-Bruce?" The one word was all he could manage he was shaking so hard.

"Dick? Dick I'm here. I'm right here, you're safe. You're safe Dick. I'm right here."

Dick didn't say anything. He couldn't get his limbs to work either, he just lay on the floor and trembled; listening to his father's voice and feeling comforting hands rub his arms.

Eventually, Bruce got up off of Dick's back, once he was relatively certain the boy wasn't going to go back into convulsions.

Dick still didn't move, he couldn't. The bright florecent lights of the med-bay were positively blinding and darkness creeped on the edge of his vision. His head was once again throbbing as remnants of the voices and mad laughter and screams still echoed in his head.

So weak, no wonder he left you

'It's true,' Dick thought, 'I lose it if he so much as touches me.'

Lying on the cold floor, Dick didn't think he'd ever felt so useless. I mean really, what good was he? He couldn't go two hours without curling up in a ball from some disjointed memory or another. He could barely think his head hurt so much. And the one thing Bruce asked him to do, help find the copycat murderer, he couldn't because he couldn't remember what he'd done. It was almost funny, and before he knew it, Dick was laughing.

Pathetic

(4 hours later)

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Dick was warm. Comfortable. Keeping his eyes closed, he took note of the pillow beneath his head, and the mattress felt so soft he never wanted to get up. Just for a moment, everything was perfect, peaceful even. He could pretend that everything was fine, he'd wake up in his bed in the manor, and walk downstairs to breakfast with Alfred and Bruce.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He could've kept the illusion going far longer if it weren't for that obnoxious beeping in the background. He knew he had to open his eyes sooner or later, and he knew what he'd see when he did.

His cell.

In Arkham.

Alone.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Okay, he couldn't take that noise any longer. He opened his eyes expecting to be greeted by blank walls and dim lighting. Instead, he was met with bright lights and steel equipment, causing him to wince and shut his eyes once again.

It all came back to him in a rush. He wasn't in Arkham, he was at the manor, the cave's med-bay from the looks of things. Bruce had scanned him looking for a chip. They didn't find anything then... nothing. He drew a blank after that.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Ugh, what was that noise. Squinting against the light, Dick opened his eyes again. Looking around his bed he quickly discovered a heart monitor to his right. In addition to that, he found an IV in his arm as well. Disliking not knowing what was being pumped into his veins, it reminded him too much of Arkham, he started pulling at it.

"Leave it there Dick."

Though the voice was gentle, it was firm, and Dick had been conditioned to obey the speaker without question since he was nine.

He let his hand drop and turned over his shoulder.

"Bruce? What happened?"

Bruce, currently wearing his suit minus the cowl, crossed from the doorway to Dick's bedside.

"You had a panic attack. I couldn't calm you down so I sedated you. You've been asleep for about four hours now."

Dick nodded slowly, then gestured to the IV in his arm. "What about this?"

"It's a standard drip, you're still a little dehydrated, with a mild sedative mixed in. Not enough to make you sleep, just enough to keep you calm."

"May I come in?"

Dick jumped at the sound of a new voice and jerked his head toward the doorway. Martian Manhunter stood in his typical costume, waiting for Batman to signal that it was safe to approach.

Bruce turned to greet the other leaguer, "yes J'onn, please come in." Turning back to Dick, "J'onn got here about an hour ago. I've already explained everything to him and he's ready to try this if you are, provided you still want to?"

The last bit was clearly a question, and after his earlier episode following the scan, Dick certainly understood Bruce's hesitance. What Bruce couldn't understand however, was the helpless feeling of having a blank spot in your memory. It really wasn't a blank spot though, more like a huge wall in his mind, he had no idea what was on the other side, but somehow knew it had to be important. If letting Manhunter into his head was the only way to get through it, then so be it.

"Lets do it."

Dick lay back against the exam table. He pulled slightly at the restraints on his arms. After a long argument with Bruce he had reluctantly agreed to having them put on just to be safe.

Martian Manhunter sat by the bed while Batman remained by the monitors, keeping vigil over Dick's vital signs just in case.

"Now Richard, just close your eyes and try to relax. When you feel a presence in your mind do your best not to fight it."

Dick nodded, closing his eyes he did his best to calm his racing thoughts. After a little while he felt something probing at his brain. He didn't fight it, it was his last chance at finding out what really happened.

He could feel the probe approach the wall in his mind. When it reached the blockage it stopped, carefully testing the strength of the wall in front of it. Slowly, the presence began to press against the wall. Dick could feel a slight pressure building but it wasn't too bad.

The probe, sensing it wasn't making much progress with the gentle approach, gave up prodding and slammed into the wall.

"Aaargh!" Dick yelled at the sudden pain exploding in his skull and yanked against the straps holding him down. Instantly the presence in his head retreated.

"Richard?! Are you alright?" J'onn asked, concern evident in his voice as he attempted to sooth the struggling teen.

"Dick?" Bruce stepped away from where Dick's heart monitor was beeping rapidly. "What happened? Did you remember something?"

"No." J'onn thankfully answered for him since Dick was breathing to hard to respond. "There seems to be some sort of mental block, keeping anyone from accessing them. When I attempted to get through, it must have triggered this pain response."

"Can you try again, or do you think it'll be too stressful for him?"

"I can do it," Dick interrupted.

J'onn looked skeptical. "Richard I-"

"I'll be alright J'onn. You just have to keep going no matter what."

"But-"

"Do as he says J'onn." Batman spoke up from the corner where Dick's heart rate had finally calmed down. "It's his choice."

Dick felt a warm sense of gratitude toward his father figure. He understood in a way Martian Manhunter never could, he understood what it was like to live your life knowing there was a murderer out there who was never brought to justice.

J'onn sighed in defeat but sat back down next to the bed anyway.

Dick took a deep breath and lay back again as well. Once again he felt the probe in his head approaching the wall. However, unlike the last time, instead of gently pressing against the block the probe slammed against it immediately.

"Aaaah!"

Agony enveloped Dick's being. Every nerve was on fire, thank God for the restraints or else he probably would have given himself whiplash. The probe kept drilling at the wall, but it was barely doing any damage at all.

The pain was only getting worse. His body was spasming completely out of control, if he could form coherent thoughts right now he probably would've likened the feeling to electrocution. The wall was just barely cracking despite the constant pressure J'onn was inflicting. He didn't know how much longer he could take it, darkness was starting to play on the edge of his vision.

He could do it. Just let go and leave it all behind; all the pain, and confusion, just surrender to the blackness.

So weak

No.

He was not weak. Not anymore. And this was his chance to prove it.

Dick pushed against the darkness, forcing it back. J'onn was making some headway, the wall had spiderweb cracks running over its surface. However, it was still relatively solid and J'onn was clearly tiring.

'He's not gonna be able to break it,' was Dick's last thought before gathering his will power and pushing against the wall himself, working with J'onn.

Just as the pain reached a mind-shattering peak the wall shattered.

(Inside Dick's Mind)

Dick, clad in his Robin suit, stood proudly in front of a young man cowering before him.

"No, please! You're supposed to be a hero?!"

Renegade sneered, "Hero is a relative term."

As he advanced the man lashed out weakly with his right fist. Renegade defended with his knives, swinging them both to his right to stab his prey in both the forearm and shoulder. Anticipating his quarry's next move, he swiftly pulled the knives out and struck the oncoming left arm in the same way.

"Aaaahh!" The man tripped to the side. He fell around Renegade and started madly scrambling towards the opening at the other end of the alley.

"Well, we can't have that' Renegade muttered and threw both the knives hitting his captive's left ankle and thigh, effectively halting his escape.

"Noooo!" The man kept trying to hobble away, though without the use of his arms and left leg he wasn't going to get very far.

'This is almost too easy' he thought as he pushed his victim to the ground, pulling out the knives in the process. "What's wrong? Not feeling the aster?" he chuckled as he stabbed the right leg in the same way.

"Aaargh! Stop PLEASE!"

Renegade listened to the agonized screams echo off the alley walls. He wasn't concerned, it was so late that few people should be awake, and those that were knew better than to come toward someone screaming in Gotham. There was only one person who could possibly present a problem and Renegade knew for a fact he was at home. Just one of the advantages to being his sidekick.

So with no witnesses or Batman to worry about, Renegade decided to have a little fun.

Contemplating his prey, Renegade twirled his knives and casually watched a drop of blood fall from the edge of the blade. Kneeling down, he slowly pushed the weapons into the man's lower lower ribs. Needless to say this elicited a wonderfully drawn out screech from his companion.

Renegade loved those screams. He wanted to hear more.

Dragging out his knives, he slowly re-inserted them between the upper ribs, careful to avoid the heart, reveling in the sounds his victim made.

"Oh God, please, please stop, please..."

Renegade let out a signature cackle.

"So pathetic."

Pulling out the knives once again, he stood up from his crouch and started to sheath them.

"Oh thank you! Thank you!"

He glanced down at the man, sobbing weakly on the ground. Unsheathing one knife, he knelt down and cocked his head to meet the other's tear stained eyes.

"Oh I'm not done yet."

He stabbed the man in the stomach, and slowly twisted the knife as he gazed into his victim's eyes. Reveling in the noises he made as his whimpers slowly got quieter.

'Well, I suppose it would be cruel of me to let you suffer,' he thought 'might as well put you out of your misery.'

Wrapping a gloved hand around the figure's throat, Renegade fished in his utility belt for the two syringes he brought with him. Pulling them out, he uncapped them with his teeth before jabbing them into the bulging vein in the man's throat.

As the young man's eyes slowly glazed over, Renegade stepped back surveying his work. It somehow seemed...

...incomplete.

Feeling unsatisfied, Renegade did a mental check of everything in his utility belt before his eyes lit up with an idea.

Pulling out a lighter he stepped up to the bloody corpse, looking it over one last time before setting the hair aflame. The fire quickly spread to the rest of the head, but Renegade made sure it stopped at the neckline to preserve the rest of his masterpiece.

Stepping back once again, he felt an intense rush of pride at his accomplishment. Never before had he felt so fulfilled, so alive.

Smiling to himself he checked the time, unhappy to find it was almost 4:00 AM. Realizing he still had to wash the blood off his gloves, not to mention get back to the manor before he was missed, he grudgingly shot off a grappling hook to make his way back home.

The body would be found, tomorrow probably, which meant he couldn't go out for a little while, at least until the heat died down.

Next week maybe?

He smiled.

(End of Dick's Memories)

Dick jerked awake in a cold sweat. It took him a few seconds to remember where he was. He took a couple deep breaths, 'I'm in the cave, I'm home, I'm home.'

Finally, he composed himself enough to look up at J'onn who was currently sitting next to him, his face buried in his hands.

Concerned, Dick looked at Bruce who was also staring at the martian. Slowly J'onn raised his head to look at Bruce, Dick couldn't see his expression from the angle he was at. He saw Bruce nod and turn away so he assumed the two had communicated telepathically. What did they say? Why did Bruce turn away again? Why wouldn't anyone look at him?!

"J'onn? What happened?" He finally asked in a raw voice.

Slowly, very slowly, the leaguer raised his head to lock eyes with him; Dick didn't like what he saw there.

"I'm sorry. I- I detected no outside influence controlling you." His tone was a mix between horrified and apologetic, as if he to couldn't bring himself to process the hard truth in front of him.

Dick felt much the same way. He knew he was insane, and he knew he was a murderer, but somehow hearing someone he trusted actually say it, was like being doused with a bucket of cold water. Bruce had given him something he hadn't had in a long time, hope. Now that it was taken away...

...he felt numb.

During the silence, Martian Manhunter had risen, unstrapped Dick from the bed, and quietly apologized to both before politely, and unavoidably awkwardly, seeing himself out.

The other two continued to sit in silence for a little while before Dick couldn't take it anymore.

Dick slumped back, images from that night still assaulted his mind; and it wasn't just that kill, he remembered all of them now, up until he attacked Batman in the cave and woke up in Arkham. His memories confirmed what Martian Manhunter had said, he wasn't being controlled, he wasn't following orders, he acted completely alone.

You loved it

The voice was right. He had loved it, he was dangerous. It was then that he was reminded of the reason he came down to the cave in the first place.

"Bruce?"

"Hmm?" His father figure was pretending to fiddle with some wires on one of the machines, he still hadn't looked at him.

"Bruce please look at me." Dick whispered softly.

To his credit, the man turned around and met Dick's eyes, schooling his features to hide whatever emotional turmoil he was undoubtably experiencing as he did.

"Yes Dick?"

"I, uh, I..." he took a deep breath and decided to try to get it over with as fast as possible. "I want you to take me back to Arkham."

Dick wasn't sure what he expected Bruce's reaction to be, but the harsh silence that followed certainly wasn't what he had in mind.

He got up off the bed and walked toward the older man, muscles protesting quietly, he reached out to touch Bruce's shoulder hoping to shake him out of his daze. However, before his fingers made contact, a hand shot up and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip.

Dick yelped and flinched back a bit at the harsh treatment expecting a blow, but none came. Opening his clenched eyes he saw Bruce looking at him with the guiltiest expression he'd ever seen.

"Dick I- I'm sorry, I just-"

"You're afraid of me." Dick accused.

Bruce opened his mouth to deny it but nothing came out, he eventually just dropped his gaze and spoke in a low defeated voice.

"I'm sorry."

The two walked out of the medical bay in awkward silence, Bruce, having released Dick's wrist, led the way back to the main part of the cave.

Bruce sat down at the computer console, leaving Dick to stand awkwardly behind him before going to lean against the work table from before.

"So..." he started as he listened to the clicking of the keyboard, "when are you going to take me back to Arkham."

Bruce stopped typing and turned in the chair, "I'm not."

Dick started "you're not?! But didn't J'onn tell you-"

"He told me everything Dick, but I'm not sending you back there. I can keep you under surveillance here, just in case."

Dick wasn't sure how to feel. This was better than he could've hoped for, but recent events kept him from jumping for joy for obvious reasons.

"So if you're not taking me back to Arkham, what are you doing?" Feeling fidgety he shifted, moving his hands back until they brushed something heavy. Looking over his shoulder he glanced at the object, his old utility belt. Reaching out to run his fingers over it he briefly contemplated how it got on the table, then realized Bruce must've taken it off him and thrown it off to the side after he attacked him in the cave all those years ago.

"I'm trying to pinpoint Wally's heat signature. I'm going to bring him in." Bruce's voice was cold, determined as he gazed at the map on the screen.

Dick froze.

"WHAT?! NO! He's innocent, he has to be! You can't-"

"ENOUGH!" Bruce shouted, "this isn't up for debate. We now know for certain that you acted alone, no reason to think that he isn't doing the same. I have to at least bring him in before any other innocent people die."

Dick felt anger coarse through him. Bruce wouldn't listen, he had to do something. He had to protect Wally. He picked up the belt and twisted it in his hands, what could he do?

Kill him

Dick looked at Bruce, his mind clearing for the first time in a while. Of course, it was so obvious. Kill Batman and then everything would be alright. Slowly rising from the table, he folded the belt in his hands and pulled, testing its' strength. He'd always been fond of strangling his victims, and the belt would do just fine.

Unfortunately, he was out of practice stalking his prey and one of his footsteps was a bit too loud.

Batman turned in the chair catching the teen's approach.

"Dick, what are you-"

He didn't get any further than that, as a utility belt wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air.

Dick smiled, leaning in so he was eye to eye with his former mentor.

"Call me Renegade"

To be continued...

Thank you so much to all my reviewers, especially africaflower77 who helped kick me back into writing. The middle of this chapter was really hard to write for some reason, but hopefully the next one will be easier. So anyway please review! It's the best way to get me to update faster.

See you soon!