[I do not own Teen Titans or any characters mentioned in this story. hEY I'm back! Requests are still open and I'll be getting to them much sooner now! Until I get some requests...have some Wilson family bonding!]

Deathstroke - or Slade now without his mask - coughed violently onto the floor, spitting up some blood that his attacker had spilled. Deathstroke was indeed a very wanted man, by both the police and the people whose lives he'd ruined. Apparently, he had killed a certain Thomas Sawyer's wife on contract, and now the man had kidnapped Slade and ordered his goons to beat him mercilessly while his hands were tied behind him. Slade's mask was gone, his suit ripped and beaten and splotched with his own blood. His breath came out even more ragged than usual - okay maybe Roselyn was right. Maybe he was getting too old for this game. He'd been beaten before obviously, it's just that, that was when he was much younger and it was easier to regain his strength and wits.

"Deathstroke," came the condescending voice of his kidnapper, "In all of his beaten, worn out glory." Slade couldn't make out much in the dark of the room, the only spotlight being on him. But he could just faintly see the shining smirk of his oppressor.

As Sawyer opened his fat mouth to speak yet again, a sharp grunt of pain came from the mob boss. His men who'd surrounded Slade simply looked up in shock and fear as he came toppling from his throne, falling off the railing he was standing on and landing with a painful crack on the cold floor. His men took a moment to exchange looks of fear and nervousness, before a flash of pearl white was knocking most of them out in record time. Whatever this thing was, it was deathly quiet as it came up behind each of the men when they turned their backs and hitting them right in the neck. As the men panicked, and Deathstroke watched in impressment, none but one of the goons made it out of the building before being knocked out.

The white flash pinned the last guard against the cold wall, revealing itself to be a small, lithe human - boy? - decked in white and armed with only a bo staff. He donned a startling crow mask, all stitched up and obviously meant to frighten it's prey. The androgynous looking warrior slowly lifted it's mask up to just above it's black lips so that it could speak in a hoarse, dangerous tone.

"Don't screw with another's prey, or you just might be next." Came the small lips of Slade's apparent savior turned replaced oppressor. He watched amusedly as the much smaller figure chuckled darkly at the bigger man's fearful trembling. The white figure abruptly whispered a sharp "run" before yanking it's mask down and watching without emotion as the guard ran like hell was on his heels out of the now abandoned building.

The figure walked over to where Slade was still tied up and bleeding, acting like it was nothing as he scoffed a quick "coward" at the running guard. The impending figure walked over to Slade and placed a small gloved hand on his shoulder, reaching to untie his hands.

"Get offa me! Get away! Do you know who I am?" Growled Slade indignantly as he jerked away from his savior. As always, his pride got in the way of his health. He wouldn't just sit and there and play the victim while some transgender pansy 'saved' him and in the process showed him up.

The figure's hands went jagged for a moment in anger before it placed a hand on Slade's shoulder, looking him in the face this time. Just as Slade was about to yell at the figure once again, he felt a sharp pain in his neck.

"Bastard." Slade said darkly as he saw his world go black and cursed the last image he saw, that stupid little brat lifting up the mask and smiling innocently.

When Slade finally woke up, his head was pounding but his body seemed to be in alright shape. Slade sat up, hissing at the still sharp ache in his neck, and observed the bandages on his body. He had stopped bleeding, and everywhere a cut or gash was was now replaced with gauze of some sort. He looked at his surroundings skeptically, what reason to save and heal him other than fool him? It seemed he was on another abandoned building's roof, this one different than the last. It was higher up, higher than the street cameras at least. There was a makeshift fire warmly burning next to him, saving him from the freezing night air. He was also covered in a blanket of some sort, and he noticed that the damnable crow mask he'd seen before was lain on the ground. Now, he would get his revenge on the little brat that dared show him up like that.

Finally he heard that same hoarse voice speaking to someone from the other side of the roof. With his wits regained, he could finally tell that the voice was modified by something. Probably a technological enhancement to their voice box. Slade slowly got up and grabbed one of his guns, which had been placed neatly next to him.

As he crept closer, he could see that the figure had shining blonde hair, almost a ghastly white like Slade's own - probably some cheap hair dye. He also heard what he was saying to what appeared to be a laptop, he was - skip? Scott? Skype? - he was skyping someone.

"Funny...he doesn't even recognize me. Though I do suppose that's a good thing. It still hurts y'know? How dare he...How dare Slade not recognize his own son." the figure said sadly, in a dark way.

Slade stopped abruptly. Son? It wasn't possible. Joseph had gone off radar years ago and Grant had gone missing. Neither could possibly be capable of this - they were both such sweet young boys before.

"Joey, I know it's hard. I know Dad doesn't really want our help but...he's our Dad." Came another voice, this one older and deeper but not by much. Joey...Grant… it wasn't possible. Was it?

"Yeah yeah I know. Look I should probably go check on him, make sure he hasn't tried to jump off any building yet." Joey muttered in that same amused-yet-bitter tone he remember Addie always using.

As he heard Joseph's boots clicking their way towards him, he sprinted to where he formerly was and laid down as if he were still asleep. God knows when he'd get the chance to see his son without Joseph trying to kill him again.

Joseph walked over to the fire slowly, before crouching down to his 'sleeping' father and glaring at the old man. His fists clenched again angrily before he calmed down and ran a hand through his own hair. Joseph gave a small sigh.

"You should be proud of me you know. I'm finally everything you wanted me to be, right? The thing is, I did this for me, not you. As a villain, I'm free. Free of worry, free of responsibility, mostly free of you." Joseph said bitterly to his sleeping ancestor.

"...I miss you, you know. I know you think I hate you...it's hard. It's hard learning to love someone who betrayed your love once. It's hard being nice to you but...I miss you a lot Dad. I miss Rose...and Mom...I miss our family." Joseph said quietly, on the verge of tears.

"I miss you too." Slade said, finally opening his one good eye to look at his son. It seemed that Joseph was more like Slade than he'd like to admit, they both hid their emotion behind violence and curses because that's the only way either of them knew how to do deal with emotion.

Slade looked down for a moment before looking back up again, a single tear in his eye as he held his arms out to his long-lost son. Joseph smiled and shed just a few more tears before launching into his father's arms, hugging him for the first time in over ten years. Joseph released just a few more hiccuping sobs, letting his father run his hands through his blonde hair to calm him. Just like they used to be.

"So," Slade began after Joseph had calmed down slightly, "Where exactly did you learn to do all of that?"

"Well...I kinda...picked up a few things from seeing you fight." Joseph said, chuckling nervously.

"And uh...do you maybe recognize this symbol?" Joseph said, bashfully smiling and pointing at the anarchy 'A' on his chest.

Slade practically had a heart attack right there, hell-fucking-yes he knew that symbol!

"Joseph William Wilson, you are the one who's been trashing my base and stealing my weapons?!" Slade yelled angrily, his face beet red as Joseph visibly paled.

"Oh well, would you look at that I think Kyd Wykkyd is calling me I better go see what he wants! Also I'm keeping the bo staff kaythanksbyedad!" Joseph nervously yelled as he sprinted off the roof of the building.

Slade ran after him, terrified his son was about to die. It wasn't just any kid that would survive jumping off of a roof. Once he got to the ledge of course, Joseph had grabbed onto a clothesline from the other building and launched himself onto the neighboring building's rooftop.

Slade smiled warmly at his son, his growing up son. He walked back to their congregation to grab his weapons and mask before he suddenly stopped in thought.

"Who is Kyd Wykkyd?"