The Watchtower was filled with an almost mournful silence as the Team, Batman, and Black Canary waited for news on the severely injured Boy Wonder. The children and Canary had seated themselves on the comfortable chairs just outside of Med-Bay, but Batman chose to pace the room instead. How could he sit and wait while his partner- his son- was being treated in the next room over, balancing on the line of life and death? How could he rest when the monster that did this to him in the first place was still free to continue developing plans to kidnap him again?

No, he couldn't rest. Not until he knew that his child was finally safe.

"They'll find Deathstroke, Bruce," Canary said softly, watching as he made another lap in front of the sofa. "We will constantly have someone searching for him until he is finally brought down."

"We weren't able to find him when he first escaped, so how do you expect to find him now when he has been missing for hours?" Batman asked in a harsh tone, glaring in her direction. No, he wasn't angry with her, but every second that Deathstroke remained hidden only added onto the frustration that had been building up since Dick's capture. They had to find that bastard, they had to make him pay for what he had done.

Because whenever he closed his eyes, all Bruce could see was the many horrifying wounds that Dick now had. His right eye was unsalvageable, the S-shaped burn on his chest would never completely fade away, and to top things off, Dick stabbed himself. If that wasn't enough, there was also the mental scars that the boy surely had; he had been at the mercy of his most feared enemy for days. And Bruce didn't know everything that had happened between the two of them in the last few days. His main concern had been the threat Deathstroke had made when he contacted the Watchtower. If he had acted on that threat at any time...

"Batman," Martian Manhunter called, finally entering the room. All at once, the teenagers surged to their feet and stared at the man, waiting to hear the news. Batman found himself giving the martian his full attention as well, forcing his pulse to remain steady. "Robin will recover," he said slowly, and there was a collective sigh of relief. "But I was forced to restrain him."

"What? Why?" Batman demanded angrily.

"We do not yet know if his programming will take control over him again," J'onn said softly. "If it does, he will be at our throats the moment he awakens."

"We can't just strap him down, that's exactly what Deathstroke did! He'll panic if he wakes up like that," Wally argued, crossing his arms. "Can't we just surgically remove the computer chip from his head? No chip, no programming."

Manhunter shook his head. "I'm afraid it is not that simple. Robin's computer chip is attached to his brain, and any attempt at removing it could do more harm than good if we were to mess up at any point of the procedure."

Black Canary sighed. "J'onn is right, it would be too dangerous to remove that chip. We should only attempt to do so if it's absolutely necessary, like if we were unable to free Robin from his mind controlled state."

Wally frowned thoughtfully. "Robin didn't seem to be controlled when he, you know, tried to kill himself..." he swallowed and forcefully changed the subject. "I don't understand how Deathstroke is able to fully control him with that tiny thing, you know? I feel like there's something more to it."

"Perhaps the chip was placed in an area of the brain that influences Robin's actions," Kaldur suggested.

"But it also affects his memories... I don't know, something just doesn't sit right with me." Wally scratched the back of his head. "Or maybe spending so much time with Batman made his paranoia rub off on me," he joked.

No one cracked a smile.

"We'll look into it on a later date. What's important right now is that we keep him alive." Batman looked at Manhunter. "When do you estimate he'll wake up?"

"Tomorrow at the earliest," J'onn told him, smiling sincerely. "There is no need for worry, your protege is very strong. He will pull through this."

Bruce wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but he held his tongue. The Team didn't need to hear that Batman was worried that Robin would turn out to be suicidal. He stabbed himself for crying out loud. What about that made Robin seem like he had a will to pull through? "I'm going to sit with him," Bruce decided out loud, thinking that it would be best if Dick wasn't alone when he woke up.

"Can I come with?" Wally suddenly blurted out, vibrating nervously. "I mean, he's my best friend and-"

"He doesn't need to be overwhelmed. I think it's best that I go alone," Bruce told him firmly, his cape fluttering around as he turned away and walked towards med-bay.

Before he left he heard Wally mumble, "But Rob's always whelmed..."

xXx (A few hours later) xXx

Bruce sighed as he regarded the unconscious form of his ward, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest as he slept. The bedsheets thrown over his body covered the stitched area of his stomach, but the pressure pad over his injured eye was still completely visible. Bruce sucked in a deep breath and reached over to ruffle his hair, feeling completely drained just by taking in his appearance. Why did this have to happen to him? From the moment Dick was liberated from Cadmus, he was never able to catch a break. It was problem after problem; the fear of accidentally betraying the Team, developing abilities that he shouldn't have had, falling into a depression after his teammates distanced themselves, and now this?

He didn't deserve any of this, damn it! He was just a kid that has been trying to improve his life and move on from the experiments he was forced to participate in. Couldn't the universe give him a break? Now that Dick had just went through his own personal hell and came back disfigured, Bruce could only predict that he would be seeing another period of depression.

No utility belts would be left laying around anymore.

Bruce let his mind wander, though his thoughts didn't stray too far away from his injured protege. He wondered, what lengths would Deathstroke go through to get his hands on Dick again? Bruce had no idea who the mercenary was under the mask, but would he use his civilian identity to his advantage? Bruce had only adopted Dick as his ward, which meant that anyone had the opportunity to fully adopt him, even Deathstroke. Maybe this would be a good time to finalize some things...

Suddenly, the heart rate monitor went nuts.

Bruce's head snapped up from where he was facing the floor, and his eyes widened as his gaze caught the terrorized blue eye of his ward. "Dick? You're not supposed to be-"

"My name is Robin!" He suddenly screamed, tugging against his restraints fruitlessly. His entire body was tensed up, his breathing quickening as though he was expecting some sort of attack. Bruce winced when he realized what Dick thought was going on; Wally was right, he automatically believed that he was with Deathstroke again.

"Dick, hey," Bruce leaned over and put a hand on his arm, not applying enough pressure to pin him to the bed, but just so that he was aware that he wasn't in a hostile environment. "It's okay, you're in the Watchtower. You're safe... No one here is going to hurt you."

Finally, Dick seemed to be able to recognize him. "Bruce...?" He blinked once, looking as though he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He then took a look around the rest of the large room he was in, taking in the beige walls, the other gurneys, the medical equipment, and IV stuck in his arm. Eventually, he pulled at his restraints again, eyebrows furrowing together in frustration. "Why am I strapped down...?" He asked quickly, sounding younger and more fearful than Bruce had ever heard him. Did he think he would hurt him?

"That was a precaution. Here..." Bruce leaned over him and undid the straps circling his wrists. "We needed to make sure you were still... you." He grimaced at the thought of Dick returning to that mindless state, only obeying the command of the man he hated the most. "J'onn said you shouldn't be up until tomorrow. You should lay back down."

Dick stared at him, frowning as he brought a hand up to his injured eye. "...You couldn't fix it?" He asked, sounding almost defeated.

"No," Bruce admitted, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "Sorry chum, but there wasn't anything we could savage. A stab wound like that won't heal." Dick lowered his head at this, and Bruce quickly put a hand on his shoulder, finding that he himself was comforted by the contact. "You won't have to look like him. We can find you a realistic glass eye, anything but an eye patch. Okay?"

"...Okay." Dick leaned against him, sighing deeply. "I guess I'll have to tell you about what happened while I was there, huh?"

"Not until you're ready," Bruce told him, and Dick nodded in acceptance. His few actions had seemingly exhausted him, and Bruce couldn't blame him. With all of the things that he had been through-

Wait.

"Dick, I actually have to ask you something now, it's important," he said, pulling away from the teen so that he could watch his reaction to his question. He blinked once, eyebrows scrunching together when he found that his ward was out like a light. Bruce sighed quietly, but allowed his head to fall onto his shoulder once again. He was not cruel enough to wake him just to force him to relive his horrors again. If he was tired, he could sleep.

But still... He had been expecting more of a reaction from Dick when he first woke up. He thought the teen would burst into tears the second he awakened, or hyperventilate when he thought he was still at the mercy of Deathstroke. His reaction had been surprisingly mild in comparison to how he had reacted to his past dealings with Deathstroke. It was almost like Dick was ignoring that the events had even happened...

That was it, Bruce realized with a hard blink. Dick was in shock, and was coping with what happened to him by going into denial. That was definitely not healthy. "I'm so sorry, Dick," he mumbled, closing his eyes tiredly. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was a chance that Dick was simply too emotionally exhausted to properly acknowledge what had happened to him. Bruce can't jump to any conclusions just yet. He would have to wait until Dick was fully aware of himself before making any diagnosis.

There was another thing that bugged him too... This was the second time that he heard Dick scream 'my name is Robin.' The first time had been during the video call with Deathstroke, and he had seemed to be reacting to the electric shock he had received at the time. But why shout his name like that? Why did his voice always sound so desperate when he said it, like he was using the name as some sort of mental rock?

Screaming one's name wasn't something they would do for no reason, and Bruce could easily deduce that Deathstroke had done something that made Dick cling to his hero identity. But why that name, and not his real one? It was painfully obvious that Deathstroke knew who Robin was under the mask, so it wouldn't make sense to take a precaution like that. Why Robin, and not Dick?

Maybe he was digging into it too much... but his instincts haven't failed him before. And right now, they were screaming that there was something significant about the name 'Robin.'