Chapter 39

A/N: Hey everyone! Welcome back! So, happy to see everyone is enjoying the story so far. Remember, I just own the story. Nothing else is mine.

/comms/

Telepathy/Flashbacks

Mt. Justice, December 18, 15:21EDT

When Robin made the decision to tell the others what was going on, he would admit that he hadn't completely thought it through.

Not that he wasn't going to. They needed to know that the adults were being jerks again and didn't tell them that one of their own was in danger.

The problem was trying to figure out how much to tell them.

Mike had worked pretty hard to make sure none of the others found out about his past. And sure, most of that probably had to do with his participation in the accident that had killed his little brother. But it didn't change the fact that his friend worked hard to separate his vigilante and personal life.

Not that Dick didn't understand. He did.

Even though it was mostly due to Bruce's orders, the teen would admit that it was nice to keep his personal and hero lives separate at times. To not have the expectation of being the most experienced person in the room. To not be the one everyone looked to for a plan when Kaldur was either unavailable or couldn't come up with a plan.

So yeah, he understood why Mike didn't talk about his personal life much.

Which brought him back to his current conundrum.

The Team needed to know that their friend was in trouble. And they needed to know the details of his situation. However, he wasn't sure how much of that to include or exclude.

They needed to know just how dangerous William Afton was. Of that there was no doubt. The problem was if they needed to know of his relation to Michael.

Roy had literally just gotten over suspecting almost everyone on the Team of being a mole. Revealing a relation like this…it could just start it all over again. He loved Roy. The guy was one of his oldest friends. But sometimes…he wanted nothing more than to throttle the headstrong archer. Especially when he baselessly accused people of crimes they didn't commit.

Those kind of accusations could only slow them down.

Moreso given how Roy would often let his biases distract him from the mission at hand.

However, if he didn't say anything, and Afton revealed it in the midst of the fight…then there was no telling how the others would react. Frankly, it could all depend on if they found Mike before running into the demon masquerading as his father. If they found him before running into the serial killer, then they would no doubt see the damage firsthand. And at that point anything the monster said wouldn't matter. But, it they ran into William first, and the man said something…there was no telling how they could react. No telling what he could say to manipulate them.

And William Afton was good at manipulating people.

Really good.

There was no doubt he would turn Roy against his friend. As for the others…he wasn't sure. He supposed it all depended on how strong Mike's relationship was to the other members of the Team.

For the most part, he thought that the older boy had a good relationship with the others. There didn't really seem to be much of anything to suggest otherwise.

Yes, there were some members he was closer with than others. But that was true for all of them. Dick personally hung out more with Wally and Mike more than any of the others. So, that shouldn't have any major effect on anything.

But, then again, they didn't think they'd believe a tip from Sportsmaster either. And look how that went.

Sighing, the teen ran a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated. Thinking about what-ifs was getting him nowhere. Frankly, it might've actually been making things worse.

Ok, there had to be a way to do this without unintentionally betraying his friend's trust.

He just needed to calm down and think.

Taking a breath to calm himself, Robin began to pace. Trying to think of an explanation quickly before the others got there.

Alright, from what he remembered, Afton went by the alias Springtrap. And, it was the name Mike had given the others following the mission in New Orleans. So, theoretically, he could say that the guy had gotten him when he'd been on patrol with Canary. That they had found a lead and ended up running right into a trap…

Though…there was no doubt Artemis would see the hole in his story. Out of everyone on the team, besides him, she would be the most likely to know Mike's schedule. Meaning she would know that Mike hadn't been in Star that night. He was supposed to be in Gotham.

Furthermoee, he was also willing to bet that she had suspicions already. After all, she had been the only one to see William in New Orleans. And given how much time she spent with Mike's civilian identity, there was no doubt she noticed some sort of resemblance between the two.

It certainly hadn't escaped his notice that the blonde had been investigating Mike's backstory too. Not maliciously. Based on the little he overheard on Thanksgiving, it was more out of concern than anything. But it didn't change the fact that she was prying into his business without permission.

Mike may not have noticed, but that didn't mean Dick wasn't plenty offended in his friend's place.

The youngest of the Team would be the first to admit he was terrible about keeping out of other people's business. It was an admittedly bad habit he picked up from Bruce. So when there'd been rumors of a mole on the Team, it wasn't hard to assume that Artemis was the culprit. Still, despite this, he didn't say anything.

And neither did Mike.

Mike knew that Artemis had been lying about her origins. He knew she wasn't being entirely truthful and yet he still didn't say anything. Instead, he just left the matter alone. Opting to let the archer keep her secrets. However, instead of showing him the same respect, Artemis had gone behind his back to pry into business that frankly, she had no right to poke into.

Distantly, Dick could hear the Zeta activating. Announcing the arrival of the others as they returned from the movies.

He was out of time.

Artemis would be a risk he would have to take. Because already he could hear the footsteps racing towards the soundproof room he told them to meet him in.

He felt bad for texting them the SOS. No doubt they had all been rather panicked upon leaving the theater and seeing a message sent a little over a half hour ago. But it had to be done.

It at least gave him enough time to amass as much evidence as he could without alerting the adults.

"Rob!" Wally exclaimed, being the first to arrive. "What's going on?! We got your message. Is everything—"

Robin slapped his hand over the speedster's mouth, silencing the barrage of questions before it fully kicked off. Motioning them all inside, he closed the door. Quietly hoping that Tornado was going to be as observant as ever and not come to bother them.

"Ok. Enough of the mysterious behavior," Conner said, crossing his arms, "What's going on?"

"Wait," Artemis spoke up, putting her hands on her hips, "Shouldn't we wait for Mike to get here? If it's this serious then we should all be present."

"He, uh…he won't be able to make it," Robin answered gravely.

That seemed to catch their attention as the others tossed around a few confused glances.

Robin didn't blame them. It was rare for Mike to miss things. And no doubt they were caught off guard by the fact they hadn't received any notification from the other teen either. Especially regarding something as important as an SOS.

However, he didn't miss the way Roy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"He's missing. And the League's been hiding it from us for four days."

As expected, there was a barrage of questions thrown his way. Each member asking questions—or likely accusations in Roy's case—in quick succession. Thankfully though, it just took one word to silence them.

"Enough!"

All eyes turned to Kaldur as the Atlantean teen took a deep breath, eyes steeled as he looked back to the Boy Wonder. "Robin, tell us what happened."

Ok. He could do this. Enough of the truth to be convincing. That was all he needed to do.

"Alright, four nights ago, Black Canary and Remnant were on patrol in Star City. They were following a lead Batman sent them regarding the recent mission in New Orleans," he began. As expected, Dick could see Roy's shoulders uncoil slightly, the archer carefully considering his words. He could also see Artemis's brows furrow in confusion.

Hopefully she wouldn't say anything.

"The report stated that they managed to catch the trail of the participant known as Springtrap," he continued, fully prepared to make a fake report if he had to. "However, when they caught up with him, things…things went sideways. He and Canary were separated in the fight and…," he typed on the computer, pulling up a picture of one of the other crime scenes, silently grateful that the killer hadn't bothered to clean the blood in any of his actual hunting grounds.

"Holy shit," someone whispered.

"That's…that's a lot of blood."

Dick felt bad for showing them what was ultimately the scene of some other person's death. But he hoped it was convincing enough to keep them from poking any holes in the story…at least until they got their friend back. "It's Mike's," he lied. "They also found his comm destroyed. Trackers in his gear were removed too."

"This happened four days ago?" Kaldur said, his jaw tight with anger.

"The the same day the League started acting weird," Roy reminded, looking serious. It seemed like he was more convinced now. "When GA took us home and didn't tell us why. Guess that explains it."

Robin nodded in confirmation. "I only found out because I ended up overhearing Canary and Batman talking about it in the Batcave."

"Are you kidding me?!" Wally exclaimed throwing his arms in the air. "You guys were in Star! You could've helped! We could've helped! But they put us on the sidelines again!"

Conner growled audibly, whipping around to punch a hole in the wall. "I can't believe this. They knew this whole time and didn't say anything! It's just like with Tornado!"

"Yeah, seems like they're making a habit of not telling us things," Artemis grumbled, crossing her arms. Knuckles turning white as she grasped her biceps.

She knew. She knew Robin was lying. At least about what happened exactly. Because she knew for a fact Mike hadn't been in Star that day.

Still, she couldn't help but remember how Mike had reacted when he had first saw Springtrap on that security footage. He'd been angry, yes. But, in reality, she could see what it really was: a mask to cover up how utterly terrified he had been.

It was a mask Artemis was intimately familiar with.

After all, she had worn it when she first joined the Team.

A lesson she had learned to fend off her own monster of a parent…oh…

Oh shit.

Mike had been living with his uncle because someone had tried to kill him.

Some rumors said that it had been his father that had made the attempt on his life.

Springtrap had looked eerily familiar when she first saw him. She just couldn't place why…until now.

Because he looked just like Mike.

Springtrap was Michael's father.

Doing her best to swallow the bile rising in her throat, Artemis met Robin's gaze, "Where do we start?"

-.-

Location: Unknown, December 19, 06:00EDT

Mike was cold. He hadn't been this cold for a while.

Not since his dad had had him sleep outside in the snow as punishment for not keeping an eye on his sister.

However, unlike then, there was no way to warm up. Even shivering didn't seem to be helping…not that he could do much of that anymore.

Though…he wasn't sure if everything was only being made worse by the blood loss.

Maybe his father was making everything cold on purpose. As a way to punish him for some made-up crime.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Or maybe it was just exhaustion.

He hadn't been able to—his father's monsters hadn't allowed him to sleep properly in…how long? A couple days, maybe? A week? He couldn't tell. They always came soon after his father finished playing with him. Stalking him in the darkness. Constantly keeping him on edge with a cacophony of static-filled snarls and songs that rose and fell erratically in volume. Lashing out the moment he dropped his guard and leaving deep gashes that were still slowly dripping blood onto the icy floor.

A dull thud snapped the worn-out teen from his thoughts. Head quickly snapping up from where it rested against the wall. Listening carefully for the source.

Mike couldn't hear the sound of scraping metal. Nor had he heard the static in some time either. Meaning that this was one of two things: either William was coming back for the next round of torture, or the others had found him.

He was really hoping for the latter.

Even though he knew it wasn't likely.

William had been evading the League for months. There was no way the others would find him so quickly. Not unless there was a tracker he had missed.

But that more than likely wasn't the case. The bastard had even managed to destroy the one Batman had practically demanded he have implanted in his arm. And that had been a tracker of last resort.

His assumptions were proven correct as the door creaked open, allowing light to bleed into the room, outlining the tall, lean frame of his father in the doorway. "Aw," William drawled, tilting his head playfully, "are you tired pup?"

Mike wouldn't have dignified that with an answer even if he could.

If anything, he'd have more than a few choice words for the fucker.

And, given how the man obviously rolled his eyes, it was clear that the madman got the message. Though, as always, it didn't stop William from striding towards him. The man looking completely at ease in the bloody, frigid room as he sat down just a few feet away. Just out of reach.

The serial killer flashed a small smile, perfectly mimicking the expression of a concerned parent. "You've gotta be in a lotta pain, baby. Come here," he patted his lap, still wearing the fake smile as he pulled out a roll of bandages, "I can make it feel better."

Yeah fucking right. It was more likely that the man would start digging his fingers into the cuts to slowly rip them open again.

Besides, even if he were telling the truth, there was no way in heaven nor hell Mike would ever sit in his father's lap.

Not willingly at least.

William seemed to reach the same conclusion judging from how the smile slowly faded from his face. his exasperated sigh. "Honestly Michael," he sighed exasperatedly, raising a hand to reveal a small remote, "I don't know why you insist on making things more difficult."

Unlike other times, his father didn't bother to explain what this one would do to punish him once he pressed the button. Instead just holding it down, looking more bored than anything.

Mike braced himself to be shocked. What he didn't expect was for a sickly-sweet mist to hiss into his muzzle. Nearly making him choke as it filled the small space. He had already taken a few breaths by the time he realized that this was his father's newest way of drugging him.

"Don't bother holding your breath. There's no point. We both know I'm going to get what I want anyways."

Despite the fact that he knew the bastard was right, Mike couldn't help but throw a weak glare in the man's direction. It was plainly obvious that even if he did hold his breath, that it would only be a matter of time before he would breathe in the gas.

Besides, he had already inhaled some of the stuff.

And, whatever it was, it was strong. Really strong.

Already he could feel a pleasantly warm heaviness seeping into his body. Slowly numbing him to both the biting cold and the pain pulsing through him. Anxiety ebbing away with every breath. Replacing it with a soft, comfortable haze. A soothing fog that somehow made him feel a million times better but also completely aware of just how worn out he truly was.

God…torture was exhausting—correction, it was completely and utterly draining.

Mike couldn't recall any other point in his life where he'd been so fucking tired.

He wanted to sleep. Sleep sounded amazing.

But he couldn't. Not with his father sitting just a few feet away.

Though…some small part of him was wondering why he was fighting so hard. Giving in…it would make things so much easier for him. Maybe then the pain would stop. Maybe then he could actually sleep.

If he obeyed…William wouldn't need to punish him anymore.

After all, he'd done it before. He'd been good before. He'd made his father happy before.

The pain stopped when his dad was happy.

Besides, it was painfully clear that he wasn't going to be able to do anything to free himself right now.

He wasn't strong enough. He certainly wasn't smart enough.

No. Mike wasn't going to escape. Not on his own. Not unless the man made a monumental mistake.

Something that more than likely wouldn't happen seeing as anytime he might've been able to William had drugged the teen beyond any form of even semi-coherent thought.

The sad thing was it was probably the closest he'd gotten to sleeping this entire time.

It would also more than likely be the only type of sleep he got until the League found him…Assuming they were looking for him.

No. They had to be looking for him. Batman and Canary had to be at least. And even if they weren't, his friends would be. Henry certainly was.

They weren't going to just leave him there. They weren't going to abandon him.

They couldn't.

…Right?

Something warm lightly brushed against his cheek, completely derailing the teen's already crumbling train of thought.

It had felt like forever since he'd been in contact with something that didn't immediately cause him pain.

He didn't want that to end.

"Aw, what's wrong, pup?" a familiar voice cooed as the warmth he now recognized as a hand cupping his cheek. "You're crying."

He was?

Slowly opening his eyes—he hadn't realized he closed them—Mike looked up to see a blurry figure looming over him. Blinking a few times, he tried to bring the world back into focus. Not too successfully as it seemed to take more effort than he liked.

"Is everything ok?"

Was…was everything ok?

He wasn't sure.

Some distant part of him felt like he should be worried…But that couldn't be right. He felt pretty damn comfortable.

He wouldn't be this calm if something was wrong…right?

Probably not.

There was a soft chuckle from the figure. Fingers lightly stroking his hair as their owner leaned back slightly, "Are you feeling better now, baby?"

Michael wasn't entirely sure how to answer.

Everything was still blurry and even sounded a little distant at times. And he felt really, really tired. He didn't think that was normal.

But, at the same time, he didn't feel anything bad. The ache in his body was now fading to a faint memory. If anything, everything felt…good? He wasn't sure how to describe it. It didn't feel right…but it didn't hurt either.

It couldn't have been too bad if it felt good…right?

He didn't know anymore.

He was too tired to think right now.

"Now," the voice purred, drawing him back to some sort of awareness. Making him aware of the cold air hitting bare skin as the cold metal ensnaring his limbs fell away. "We have a very long day ahead of us," a pair of arms scooped him up into a warm chest, "I think we should go ahead and get started."