Teen Titans – ReBeL Yell: If I Had Stayed A Renegade
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A Day At the Office
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Listening to my mom's boring audio book, and then it hit me!
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It was just a day of ducking from board members, dragging down the impending doom that nothing supernatural, unnatural, or out of the ordinary would ever happen.
Certainly not here, at Wayne Enterprises, in the heart of Gotham city!
That could have been the case, yet the board of billionaire Bruce Wayne's company were expecting a returning client this afternoon, and that was anything but coincidental.
A few years of grasping the reality that his son, his ward was anything but sorry for skipping town like he had, had left Bruce within the confines of his own reality to sulk. And boy, did man - babies sulk and sulk for days….
So, Bruce went back to work, took to his old routine and tried to make everything seem as it was, or had been.
Just.
Normal.
Yet, it certainly wasn't if the time now read…
Afternoon, and no sign of a call coming through to let up their guest.
Bruce tapped his fingers onto the desk, staring right next to the intercom while swapping between the clock on his desktop…. This was a tasking job; having patience while there was little to give, that could certainly help you grow up a little too quickly.
He sat up, tried to look over some last-minute documents, yet nothing filled the void better than going for a walk down the hall.
He could have asked for coffee, but this was his company. He had every right to not feel like a prisoner here.
He waved to a few no name employees. The man's cheeky disposition not the least held in suspicion, as Bruce Wayne made his way to the –
He shuffled on ahead, the elevator door shutting with a press as he let out a withheld, labored sigh.
Only to find they'd be stopping at the next floor up.
The machine dinged, while the door swung back. A man with a long black ponytail in a black suit with surprisingly back gloves and shades "suspicious as that was," had entered the shaft with the billionaire.
Bruce pulled out his cell, expecting to seem less aware as the person in black went to press a button for the basement parking garage. The last level, and by the male's attire…
Soon, too soon, the time was only moments as Bruce cleared his throat.
He'd never been given the detective title for any other reasons.
"That's an impressive get up; are you here as a hired bodyguard – oh, sorry. I'm just keeping tabs…"
"You should look away, sir."
That voice. It was unmistakably too familiar as Bruce played the fool, coaxing out the man behind those shades.
"Sorry, but how old are you, exactly? Nine –
"That's classified."
"No, it's not. Dick."
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Wetting his lips, the black gloved son of the back just bunched up hiss shoulders, guarding what cover he had to keep to.
"Where is he." Bruce demanded, not letting up his decision.
"I know I'm not wrong."
"I'm sorry, but I –
"You skipped town, made a promise with Deathstroke and betrayed your team. Took my team on and never looked back, but I know."
"Then, you just should let me go, sir…" Dick gripped his briefcase, one that had something for Mr. Defarge that…
"You aren't his property, Dick."
"Was I, Mr.…. Wayne?"
"You can say it."
"No, I won't." The nineteen-year-old huffed, his hair flipped behind him as it had grown out. Courtesy of his master allowing the boy his own tastes once in a while.
"You need to come back; the league can –
"You're on camera, Bruce." The kid in black pointed to the ceiling.
"No, I made sure to scramble any devices. You know I prefer my privacy, Dick –
"I'm not –
"You are!" Bruce grabbed the man by the arm as his son's glasses were pulled away to reveal those ever – blue orbs, still youthful…. still hoping to finally wake up.
"Where is Wilson, Dick? What leverage does he have on your team?? Starfire –
"She talks." Dick turned his head to face the wall. "You need to forget –
"You can't leave, and I want to know…" Bruce's hands gripped at the boy's upper arms, a shaken thing with such promise.
Now, a tarnished relic of what he was determined to settle…the role of an assassin, a killer in that suit.
And Bruce Wayne still thought he could do the impossible.
"The nanobots are gone, Richard." Bruce pleaded his case, eyes frightfully aware of how many floors left they had to find any closure.
"That man has no power over you, not anymore."
"I can't leave, you're right…" Dick swallowed, that void had only grown over time. After the scare of his friends almost dying right before his eyes, Dick had changed. Robin had died, to be replaced…
By, this.
And if the nanobots weren't why the kid wouldn't quit this act, then Slade's tactics had changed.
"Is Slade here in the building, right now." Bruce released his hold, a calm washing back over him as Dick dropped to his knees to recover his dark shades.
"I'm just leaving."
"Why are you really here?" Dick stayed a moment, knowing what was to come. He shook his head, chuckling disappointedly.
"Bruce, good ole' B…You are so clueless. I'm here to just BE present." The kid's voice had a light, angry tremble to it. "He's been here, I was told to stay behind but couldn't. Wasn't the right thing to do."
"What is he doing to you, then? Conditioning? Tor-
"I wanted to tell my employer, that I'm still able to be useful…that's all."
Bruce felt his brow furrow into place. Garbage. Dick was wasting his time on purpose! But, why?
"You were controlled by that man, taken from –
"I left." Dick said, monotonous tone and a pitch so unfriendly that it made him seem like a true hitman.
Another personality from the traumas he'd faced. That worried Bruce even more.
"I told the Titans –
"Stop worrying them." Dick frowned at his old mentor. His, father…as it were.
"They have a right to know." Bruce stated.
"I don't have the right to keep them out of my business? All because your word is law, right?" Scoffed the nineteen-year-old; who'd have his cover blow full of holes, his backside aching for sneaking out of the haunt the last time.
"You always made for being a shitty care taker. A terrible example for ANY of your damn family to put up with! That's why I'm not coming back. You're my jailer. Always were –
"Because I had to protect you! You've only been forced to become a criminal through manipulative conditioning and abuse."
"I can take care of myself. I'm still here, aren't I?"
Bruce dragged the kid up to his eye level, the fight being shorter than he'd wanted as Dick threw his mentor to the floor, but Bruce's time being pummeled was short lived.
As the ping* of the elevator sounded; they'd made it to the bottom most level of Wayne's building.
"My stop." Dick waited for the door to open up, his fingers to his pants pocket as a set of keys and its attachment had the car reveal its location with a *beep.
"Slade should be done here, soon. Don't tell him I took the good SUV."
"You aren't walking away, Dick." Bruce groaned and lifted himself from the solid carpeted shuttle.
Dick looked over his shoulder only once as his steps stopped. Each frame felt cut - out of a film from some faraway place. Dick's shades were pulled down to show his determination, to axe Bruce from his life. To defy the fact that his inner turmoil as Slade's apprentice had led to this conclusion. In Gotham's main Wayne Enterprises' parking garage, for God sakes!
"I just did." Dick tossed his black, ebony pony tail over his shoulder, the ultimate icy response as the car revved, backing out as he'd made his point clear.
Bruce wouldn't have his ward back.
Because Dick was a true renegade.
He only had one person left to return to….
Only one…
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Bruce heard his cell phone buzz in his pocket as he tugged it out clumsily, hoping it was Slade. Hoping there was time…
Lucius Fox.
~ Everything alright, Mr. Wayne? You up and left your desk, I could have had coffee –
"It wasn't my appetite, Lucius…" Bruce swiped a rough hand through his head of ebony locks.
There was a pause, so it must have been crystal clear.
~ How long ago, Bruce. ~
"Seven minutes. We met in the elevator shaft…I want you to do a check of Mr. Defarge's financial history with this company in the course of four years. See if he's really had his foot in the door."
~ You saw. ~ Lucius nodded. ~ But, it's never enough...That's the only thing, an' far as I can tell Bruce? ~
"He's not a lost cause, he's just afraid…" As if Fox didn't know about Batman and Robin, or the real reason the boy wonder had been reported missing for four straight years now.
~ You don't have enough evidence. We'll figure something else out, something. ~
"Talking to that assistant of yours, Mr. Wayne?"
Slipping round to see by the stairs, stood Wilson with his false eye in place. False lies and a smirk that could drink you dry from just one glance.
Leaving Bruce utterly boneless as he hung up, leaving Fox to worry as much as the bat had about his missing son.
"He took the black car this time… humph." Slade looked at the damage, the skid marks left by that unaccompanied drag racing brat he had to talk to back at the haunt. Their safe house had been pretty cold as of late…
"Why did you come back." Bruce ground his fists, keeping his temper as even as he could.
Slade had a better grip and could twist the billionaire's arm.
Easily snapping it, if he so preferred.
Or if the Batman would even allow that.
"I had some ideas that your clients seemed to really appreciate this time." Slade stuffed his hands inside his tan pockets. "Your board has become much more compliant compared to my last visit."
"You were Mr. Tanner back then, and your hair was –
"Blonde. Though brunette isn't much of a transformation to some…including your loyal…. assistant."
Snipped the mercenary.
"He almost sniffed me out, until your run in with my apprentice changed someone's mind." The man stared, just keeping the billionaire where he was as the merc dragged out his keys from said, tan pocket.
"I should be going. My protégé can't wait –
"You are not in control like you think, Mr. Wilson."
Slade quirked up a brow. "Such a baseless presumption, Mr. Wayne. Did that boy's attitude hit a sore spot? That hold he gave you; I taught him that." Chuckled the mercenary, as his car was a white one, tinted windows. Totally blend – worthy of course for this city.
"There was a shortage of choices on the model." Slade shrugged. "You have a board to negotiate with, upstairs." The man motioned to the elevator with his goateed chin. Bruce glared, unable to force his hand in on this situation.
"Have a lovely rest of your afternoon." Slade slipped his arm and head out the driver's window as he revved up the engine. "I'll be sure to keep this between associates. The boy doesn't need to worry himself."
The words "associate" and "worry" took their turn for the worst on Bruce's confidence as he hung his head. The white car driving away, while the taxed billionaire wallowed back up to his desk for a firm talking to.
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Dick's ride back was questionable, not one hundred percent tranquil as he cruzed the freeway, hair let to flow in the breeze until he'd tugged it back into a bun. Damn, he thought it made his cover, better…
Well, until his car cell Bluetooth line was hacked by an unknown caller.
First thought; burner cell.
Master – San was pissed. Nothing unnatural about that…
~ You left, without my permission. Not surprising. ~
"I needed my own, closure." Dick lied. "You kept me there without any projects to do. And, I'm not some useless house cat –
~ Getting snarky with me young man, won't save your mentor. That attitude doesn't change anything. You disobeyed a direct order. ~ Slade growled under his breath . ~ I want you back at the haunt in –
"I'll come back once my head is clear…"
~ APPRENTICE ! ~
Slade's word, that title hit like a bullet through the heart.
"Trying not to crash, sir…I'm getting some fresh air. Won't be far."
~ I KNOW why you did this, and I won't bother again to remind you of the fact, that you and I still have our, agreement in place. ~ Slade hissed his displeasure rather well. ~ You'll be back at the safe house before three pm, sharp. Nothing more. If I should even have to send a single scout after you –
"I'm loyal to our contract, master." Sniffed the prince in his carriage. "Have a plate ready for me by the time I hit the lock."
~ YOU'LL not be dining tonight at this table, boy.~ Slade hinted that's was so much closer to making up a new threat, rife with a punishment only that deserving….
~ I think some down time for you, is punishment enough. You'll have your meals, tomorrow. Don't be late. ~
The transmission ended and Dick cussed under his breath, his stomach talking right about…
"Like I…."
He stopped, seeing the best Tony's pizza joint in Gotham from his side window, stomach still groaning on. Loathing the fact that all he could afford was one slice…
And it was only just after lunch.
/
He hugged his gut that night, but not out of hunger. From the beating he'd gotten for sneaking food and staying to watch Gotham from up too high.
He'd be back on his feet by tomorrow, Slade knew how to treat his wounds then. But now, Dick had the reigns on his own care. An ice pack from on top of his mattress had been placed there…
At least he wanted Dick, alive. Richard rolled his eyes and sat up. There was something …under the pack...
A granola bar? Was he for real?
And DICK didn't care. Bruce's one lecture was to nevertheless sweets and snacks from strangers.
Well, to hell with that!
Dick gnawed at the overtly calorie dense snack as if he hadn't eaten a decent meal in months.
That was wrong. He actually ate like a prince in Slade's care…
The bar had stopped tasting alright. Dick set it down and bit at his lower lip.
He had pizza earlier; he didn't want anything to replace the taste of baked dough and sauce on his tongue.
Not even when Slade had Dick to make his own Flatbread for easy consumption.
It wasn't the same.
Dick brought a hand up to his face, all wet.
With tears.
He laid back onto the bed and had forgotten all about his stomach being boxed in the common room.
He'd sleep it off, but the memory was still there.
And for one, this was his home. His pride, no longer as the dutiful yet unruly protégé to a madman slowly drifted off to sleep.
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