Teen Titans; ReBeL Yell – If I had stayed a Renegade
/
WANTED
READING BAD COMPANY ON ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN AND SUCH Accuracy IN EVERY ASPECT THAT, WELL, I GOT INSPIRED TO PLAY THE CARD WHERE DICK IS A WANTED MAN LIKE SLADE NOW. Yet… HOW DOES THAT CREATE A PURPOSE FOR HIM OR TAKE IT FROM HIM AS RENEGADE ? FIND OUT. LONELINESS CAN KILL, BUT TO BE HATED FROM COUNTRY TO STATE, TO UNIVERSE? YOU AINT SEEN NOTHING YET, BOY WONDER.
/
Slade Joseph Wilson; A.K.A – Deathstroke the Terminator: terror on every level for a high price. Has aided drug cartel bosses, corrupted officials, smuggling, cleaning jobs, massacre…..
When Dick's eyes had truly opened, he was forced to make that one assumption based on the data he'd collected on his master. Yes, even if Batman was still scrambling to find a way to remove the Titans' probes, Dick still had to be a hero always. How it was so, he'd never get the chance to face Starfire and the others. They were constantly moving, modern day nomads with blood splatters on their suits amd under their fingernails. It was a life, unbecoming of a grave digger such as Dick Grayson, and the former Robin the Boy Wonder.
Dick's life had come topside as soon as Slade had given them a place, they'd be off to. William Wintergreen, Slade's prominent and loyal friend from his US army days, was of no use despite the random pep tall whenever they visited his home on their many, trips around the globe. Slade didn't lay low always, despite the bounty on his head. Even the JLA gave him little credit for this.
Their new destination was a change of pace that Dick wasn't used to in the slightest. His first real contract had given him a new fresh scar as the boy nursed his wounds in private for weeks. He was still ordered to spar, to work and to clear the blood off if Slade's many weapons of choice.
To think; Slade, the criminal mastermind of Jump City was so dangerous, that he'd held back his real healing factor and all of its adaptations from the eyes of mere teenagers….Dick's stomach gurgle as he scrubbed a spot in the haunt where the man's interrogation had gone as expected. He'd survived it and his apprentice, had participated to keep his friends breathing.
"There will be a change of plans."
The news came over breakfast of a dry as ash toast and the saddest looking egg whites the boy had ever tasted. Bland meant a better chance not to indulge. He recalled a hard candy, just one butterscotch that Slade had given the kid as a "reward" after one mission. How sweet it had tasted. Doled out a bit of sugar, all for the chance to save four unsuspecting lives from a trauma that he might never recover from. The tears that came with its milky texture made no difference. Slade was unmoving and certainly, not up for taking to joining in as they simply that night had forgotten all about the ordeal.
Dick never did and today, he'd wondered if that change would leave someone in a ditch and his hands coated by the time it all had ended.
"I'm expecting that you behave as usual for the Titans' sake. It's outside of Metropolis."
Dick's head perked up. "Isn't that Superman territory, sir?" Sir and master were useful to cull a spell of anger. Not really, yet Slade was easier on his hits which meant Dick could live long enough to someday see his friends. Alive. Like her hoped to stay.
"We'll be keeping a low profile. The woodland there is all countryside. I know a place that can act as our base while we wait to make to our main destination in that city. We might not have to leave if we're lucky with our generous client."
Most likely, Lex. Dick frowned. "Sir, I don't mean to interject –
"Then try to just follow orders, and don't think this means we're on vacation. I know how restless you can be lately." The man might have smiled a bit, not as strongly below the mask as he chuckled, "There will be some things to keep our time. I won't keep you cooped up like a fat hen in your pen. You just have to do all that I ask and we'll have time to rest afterwards. Doesn't that sound nice? A bit of downtime is expected from time to time." The man finished his pep talk, more a bribe as Dick took one few last bites of his dry as dirt toast. "Remember only to pack the essentials. Some things won't be relocating with us to this safe house. Pack as light as you can, only the necessities. What's useful on our list." He slid a small slip of sticky note paper across the table for Dick to read as he sat. Hopefully, sat and chewed his last meal in the next five hours they had before lunch again.
/
Dick hated the regimen with a passion.
Wake, spar, eat, not the other way around. Occasionally, the mission would be less messy, other times, it avoided helping Slade complete menial tasks that made the boy's stomach lurch. Other times, it was involved with blueprints and hacking, where he did most of the work. Slade's motto was to always be strict in one's training, punctual in every instance and event and prepared to fight as long as he stood by the man's side. Lives were on the line, so he did.
Without question, until that day the game had changed.
Murder, turned his eyes back to the reason of why he had fought back. Why he had been beaten by the man and stitched up on the same day. Today, he was still nursing a new stitch as it had finally one week left to go. He could increase his steps then, only then when Slade wanted his little carbon copy to do as it was told.
Today, Dick was packing a bag but not running in shame of what he had accomplished to keep his friends, happy to be alive. He would be letting Slade talk possibly face to face with a tyrant, and there was nothing he cod say or do to change the man's mind. As stubborn as they both were, Slade's strategic thinking had kept them both fed and alive long enough to know that hed6not hesitant to keep this deal going as he'd said, for decades to come.
So, the place Slade had chosen was in the backroads, the nowhere that was Kansas at a glance, as Dick tried not to want to roll down his window and take in the stray scent of hay and cow pies or corn stalks and sunflowers growing tall as the reach of the summer sun into that atmosphere.
They'd arrived in the car as pictured, but not as much as Dick would have calculated with his bat radar still going strong.
"Here?"
Slade brushed past the boy and pointed for Dick to take their things in, as much as he could carry. A real pack horse, the home was not as decrepit ay all on the inside as it was, on the out.
Safe houses were a Bat thing too. Any villain could cross – connect the reason. To keep a low profile and to plan one's next move. Whether for evil intent, or in their case, greed.
And a lesson in patience that dragged on through the entire trip.
Dick recalled the things are had him do. Making supper; the perfect excuse to pick up a knife again. Slade trusted that Dick knew now enough about the man's healing factor. No more than a tickle as the boy was given the blade to make them food. To make Slade see he wasn't totally a waste of space.
There were towels, a shower stall and of course. Textbooks on many topics Fick didn't aggressively take himself as a genius in. Yet, he was versed in World history to a degree, U.S history and policies and…well, global treaties were something he hasn't expected to find a book on in his native tongue.
He was told to read in the sparsely set library until supper, so the first check off his list ended with a cut of meat, a lump of greens and of course, an ear of corn. Just for the occasion. "Our little cover will include tending to them." The adult took a bite as Dick looked down at his food, until his stomach allowed for the same reaction to a Strachan that had not touched his lips since last summer. When he'd been a Titan. He was fifteen, angst, but still as Slade had deduced. Reckless if not kept preoccupied to plan his escape for an S.O.S to anyone.
Death wasn't optional. If he went, so did the four heroes back in Jump City.
If he took off, the probes won out.
If he defied his master and fought back at all, he'd had to lick the man's boots and shine his armor just to turn the man's anger to a lasting puff of smoke. A smoking gun was a better analogy, as Dick picked up the freshly plucked vegetable and took a bite with one deafening crunch.
He wasn't kidding when Slade had told him about the rows, and rows of CORN.
YES. The man either loved it or hated the crop so much, that he'd given it a better role to play for the infamous Deathstroke and company.
Slade's brief vision was no comfort. They'd be here for a few weeks, tops. The corn was pretty tall. Yet if Dick made it through the towering maze without any nicks or bumps from the bristled things, he could get to another farm and pose as a runaway long enough to call…
Bruce, or Clark was better. Clark would ruin Slade for good, but what about the device?
Dick sighed and took to plucking the share if the crop that wanted to be eaten. In his leisure here, he was officially a farmland for some ominous face outside and in.
/
The basket now full of green clothed husks, the man then directed Dick to wash up and then, then they would have a place in the home's basement to not get rusty. Or soft, as that glob of stewed spinach that Dick could still taste acid bile from in his throat.
/
His staff had wavered, so it was taken away. Hand to hand meant more bruises as Dick was given time to hydrate, shower and then off to bed he went. A plain bedroom and a window that was bolted. The ac unit was central air, yet Slade could afford to avoid a hot summer's end as any person in an iron mask ever should.
/
Five A.M came, and he was given a wild wake up of a clatter at his doorframe. Slade stood at it, dressed in enough denim to scare off the hunters. "Up, I'll need you for collecting our breakfast."
Humiliated enough as it was by how yawning was considered a crime here on this yank- doodle dandy farm, Slade pointed to a chicken Cooper, and Dick had to prevent a snort of laughter from making its way into the world and to his master's displeased face.
"GO. Get only what we'll be having between now and tomorrow. If you can."
The order and the basket had Dick wondering if they were too deep in cover. If he called Slade "Pa," would he finally get his answer to that same question regarding his master's mental state of health?
"Oh, wow." Dick ducked his head into the coop and saw six hens, kempt plump on their mounds. "I have to move you now…."
If Dick had only not been a city boy, the feathers wouldn't have felt like spit on his dignity as Slade saw the aftermath. The basket, and didn't even bare a chuckle at the boy's filthy appearance. He'd lost the battle, but the war had granted them enough eggs to avoid any extra by the next morning at least.
/
Slade tried to keep Dick's body and mind agile and as refined as He'd promised to make it back in the city. The farm life did feel ok at times. At night, Dick waited for Slade to get off of his calls and come up for dinner from the basement where plans were certain to take form over the next couple of weeks.
The thought of a new wanted poster kept the boy up throughout the night, the third night they were inside of these two floored shacks of a hideaway. Slade soon had Dick March himself to the library where his next task was to do a pop quiz He'd never prepped for.
A strong memory dies not always require a road map or a list for it to measure its durability by. In other words, Dick had to at least pretend that his memory was a little photographic to make it to a B at the end of the drill. "Not terrible, yet we can certainly improve with your skills in some areas tomorrow."
Dick had groaned into the study desk as Slade then let them have lunch. Only then, and joy – it was eggs and more tasteless toast once more. Why they had not brought Wintergreen along with his Michelin star cooking, Dick believed Slade was putting on the mask far too tightly for comfort up to this point.
/
Lex had agreed to meet, on terms that invoked Dick entering the city limits wkth his master and just playing the underling outside of the meeting room. Dick scratched his cheek as a woman woth a uniform and pin straight set of almond eyes looked his way. Her clipboard didn't have much on it as her sharp heels tapped past the boy wonder, before she'd departed down the hall. Dick was leaning, then finally his legs told him that he needed a break. No waiting or wasting a breath on the job, a few moments past the hour, the door clicked back and Slade was motioning with his one eye for Dick to keep up, as they left Lex and his associates in the building to make their final decision for the coming week.
/
Life on the farm wasn't stereotypically as horrible as he'd come to believe. Minus the chickens Richard had finally made peace with, or the fact that they ate chicken…. while Slade claimed it was packed in the freezer ahead of time.
It was about two days after. A whole week and a half down and the boy was called up at just before the supper bell in about that four hour mark. Dick walked through the gravel and the dirt to where the coop was, but they headed towards a shed that looked much less left to rot as the outside if the home. Slade allowed Dick inside once he'd given a light switch there a flick to life. In a cage on the ground, was a mother hen. Her ruffled feathers were tufts of powder as she didn't squawk loud enough until Slade had his boot by her cage door. "Take this to that table."
A metal work station. Cleared as a doctor's metal operation table for his most willing participants. Dick realized that something was going to happen, yet his feet moved on contact with that order. His hands found the handle as good ole "Betsy" he'd coined jer, started to riot in her mini prison. "If she gets out, you'll be chasing her. There, set it down." Slade pointed to the metal table top. Dick's throat narrowed a bit at the sheen as his own reflection gleamed back from its hollowed, icy surface. He could see everything. Every bump from his bruises that still needed healing. Every graze, from a spar he'd lost or a chicken that had gotten too friendly with his father free defenselessness. Or, his eyes, and the lack of sleep his body was receiving compared to getting any inside the haunt back in Jump City.
"Slade…. what are we doing? This isn't-
"Hand me that toolbox in the back." The man completely ignored the whining kid, his hands shaken around the cage handle as the man's eye said enough. "Now, Dick."
The kid scrambled to place the cage down and let go, his back turned and hands finally around the case as he watched with apt near – defeat as Slade opened the cage, wedging his arm in to choke. The grown chicken.
Dick croaked out, his eyes widened to the reality that he'd faced before.
A shed, a table and a chair for the one getting answers.
The screaming man in the gag and the sweat rolling down their necks as a shot was fired, a knife wetted with someone else's blood for a change.
/
"Take her, I'm handing this so don't squirm. I don't want you to lose a finger, Robin."
Robin….that's not who he was. What happened to not talking like that boy wonder was still out in the open? While Dick's hands , two, found the troat of the hen as her bulging black and brown eyes searched for mercy. For a way out and not to that great coop in the sky.
How Slade's are came down, blood hitting Dick's arm as the mercy given, with all due respect, was certainly not Kosher enough for a slow, painful blood letting to happen. The heart stilled; his head swam in a fog. Chicken…meat…. but, it was Betsy…he'd given it an identity-
"Good work this evening, apprentice." Slade left the axe and went to wipe it down, discarding of any evidence as both men once more, needed to shower off the reminder if their evident livelihoods.
Slade cleaned the hen up as quick as a fish as Dick held his belly and tried to imagine her in a place not from here. Not in this time line but, maybe…. not as willing to give up her life.
/
"Bon Appétit." The braised hen was paired with actual food today, not just mush and canned garbage but roasted baby red potatoes and was that asparagus??
"Anything to add before we dig in, boy?"
Boy, he was just a –
Dick slammed down a fork and looked Slade in the eye. Today, the man was seated with him at the smaller kitchen table. It was domestic of Slade to ever cook something with flavor, let alone….
"YOU. Went to the grocery store."
The man put down his fork and swapped to a ladle for the gravy the chicken would be baste in. in moments. He couldn't enjoy things as it was.
"You had food for us, and you never told me we weren't in nowhere?? You told me; then why do all of this if I'm not hunting for my own supper in some lake?? What's the reason for me getting scratched by birds, or…or the corn! Why?"
"You had it far too easy for a long time, though my real plan was to see about a trip to the log cabin I kept in Canada for us. That might come soon –
"NO." Dick poker at the piece of chicken on his plate. "Why did she have to die if we could have gotten chicken from a store?? I already get covered in blood on every job we've been on. This was totally unnecessary."
"What is unnecessary, Richard, is your level of gratitude. I did what Wayne probably did what? One time, to prepare you for being without? He never kept you from that lack of want. The fact that you expect your butler to tuck you in at night –
"Alfred would agree that you've lost it!"
Slade still hand the ladle as on a THWAK heard round the room, Dick bit back a yell by one rather large red mark that had been administered by a peeved rogue. Slade's hand withdrew with his weapon as Dick rubbed some feeling to sooth his upper hand by the knuckle where the swat had been, very blatantly assured. He had drawn that line, and now came the tough part.
"If you won't say a few words to your friend on our plates, then maybe I should just get rid of her. Have you not even shower off the blood and go right to bed. Would that be a suitable enough reason to tell you that your word is useless against my own? Just like the bat?"
Slade didn't wait as Dick's lips stuttered out a protest; his pointed arm and finger shooting up to place a picture in the kid's skull, right to the steps as he'd promised. "Sit, be silent for the rest of tonight and eat your meal in thanks, or you'll have only those cloths and your shame to lay in tonight. Understand?" The man's growl was there, Dick had to bite back his as he refused to just…not eat. He needed to get out and starving, not only counterintuitive if Slade figured out that he'd need a feeding tube installed.
Dick swallowed down his pride. His only resistance in a heap, as his butt hit the seat again with a flop back into it. The chicken looked wetter, not dry and bland without a hint of added anything. He should try it. Then, he'd say a few words if real thanks before Slade shut him up in his room that night.
/
He'd woken up groggy, as the man was in his gear and Dick, still in a tank and boxers like some dumb teenager.
"You needed a few hours." Slade only greeted him, as if to dictate something else to his kicked protégé. "Slade….what are you doing in uniform? What time is it…"
"A few hours till Sun down. But don't you fret. Last night was more than enough to satisfy our stomachs."
That was right…he'd gone to bed, but not until after he'd had water Slade had poured…
Shit.
"You drugged me." Shot the kid.
"It was necessary to see things settled before our next trip. You'll need to change and get ready." The man pointed to a two hundred calorie weight lifting bar in his pocket. "Have this before we leave. I'm sure the housewares staff and proprietor won't mind a crumb or two left ny the last residents."
Dick's mouth dropped open.
"W – WHAT…YOU mean to say…that we had staff here?? All that time??"
"Well, yes." Slade didn't seem to be shocked about any of this. None. "How else would I have been beside you and buying vegetables for our table? I didn't count on the freezer having meat in it, but that was all pressed ahead for our stay."
"The chickens…they didn't have to –
"That was a personal lesson, Richard. Enough."
"Who was…. they had someone to take care of them? Even…" Dick put a hand to his skull. "We were never nowhere. We had help…you didn't let me see them."
"It was a basic cover to have them depart during our time at this farm." Slade explained. "You took care of things just fine, and to make this easier for us both, that owner of this base is one of my connections from a ways back. We were in good hands, but the corn did have to be plucked."
Dick growled and turned to storm back to his room to dress and to keep his head from exploding. "Agh! He lied, and tricked me…I was lost in a corn maze, got chickens…. killed!"
Slade was probably laughing under the mask at him over the kid's reaction of being bamboozled. Slade had created that false sense of something surreal out here to make Dick depend on his own skills. Not what was handed to him through status or…or…
Poor, Betsy…
/
Speaking of poor Betsy…
In was at that log cabin towards the fall. Lex's little plan brought too many names out into the open, so Slade took a break once the verdict had been averted thanks to the cue – ball's lawyers and crack pot negotiators on his team. The JLA and the Bat were out matched, while Dick was able to find some sense of forced serenity in the Canadian wilderness for a small spell of time. Just as the leaves had begun to turn the color of a blood red harvest moon.
The boy was not attracted to this life. The chicken could not bring him down more than the deaths of so many for one objective that have been thwarted. Was it just the scent of the fresh mountain air, the cooling breeze before autumn officially encapsulated the landscape, turning the dark on and the daylights down low. Well, in Dick's mind, he'd never ever expected anyone to make a monkey out of him. Not even to hand him an axe to chop wood out in the back….woods?
/
The cabin was somewhere in between dusty and well kept. This wasn't a regular spot that one could have considered a safe house of choice. Not for Deathstroke, yet the man was choked full of shocking secrets at every turn.
Every turn led the boy deeper down a path that made him stumble, bump his toe against some knobby gnarled stump of roots to an ancient specimen of the outdoor life, the life that Slade now shared, even while Dick was warned to heed his word that the Titans' being here now, was still enough to keep the boy from finding a means of escape.
He couldn't. It was dense, overgrowth and trees atop a high altitude that at first brought on multiple bouts of a migraine that Dick had trained for. Here however, the air wasn't Gotham air. It wasn't his hoke, nor would it ever become.
"Hurry it up."
Slade motioned to the boy as he continued to press the man on time. Time, that he was sure they had in this red waste of leaves falling slowly.
A stream was up ahead, a creek still stocked full of swimming life as Slade walked upstream. The look over the side being a greater spill. Fish.
The things on their backs were lines. He was going to kill again.
Catch and kill, just like a true hunter as Dick padded along and kept his footwork steady not to fall off the side into those cold waters.
/
Fish. He'd never tried it this way, but….fir the life it was, dead eyed and all…
"How was your first real meal since we got here, apprentice?"
The man was chipper, it looked. Yet again, the mask being off since the gash Robin had made in that clanking metal; Slade taking him away before the Titans could follow. Fighting Star and losing them in the water as Slade broke away from Raven's radar far too quick for comfort. The sputtering ache and the nausea after he'd gotten up, and the lesson learned that it wasn't going to happen.
Dick wouldn't see that sunshine as long as he was bound to his contract to keep the heroes safe.
The sun was down hours before it began, shade coaxing the seasons to give way as Dick shivered a little by the breeze of just another Canadian autumn. The early kind, as Slade took to clearing up their tools. Eating fish roasted over a fire was, intriguing. Bruce had taught him survival tactics in the beginning, but the rest fell into place to do without as much as being a boy scout. He still had to excel, sure. The cold was not that bad, not until the next morning as the man told the boy with a finger to the tree in front of their kitchen window.
"I need those limbs clipped back. They are causing interference."
A saw was handed to him as Dick realized the risk and did what he could to climb the tall maple. That it was just a teen sized thing like him made the trip easier, yet Dick saw something in the leaves as it rustled. Frantic in spurts as he ducked his head, expecting it to attack. Maybe a squirrel, or –
The chatter got quite vocal as his part of the branch started to wobble. This whatever it was, was going to knock them to the ground.
Hardly ready to fail at his task, Richard scooted carefully and cautiously across the beam of wood to where he saw a cord attached in a cross to a somewhat thinner branch. He could break it with his hands. He could use the saw too
…
The animal however caught up in the trap, was a not so clever raccoon as it's jaws chattered on like a cat at some birds by the window.
"Hold on, I'm not here to –
The animal could be sick, or give him rabies, right? But….it was a poacher. That wasn't allowed here. Not in Canada.
Surely, he could free it before it decided to get feisty….
Dick crawled over, voice low, hands working at the leg where the raccoon could not contort to nip at his exposed wrists. "Come…on….
There!"
The cracking sound of a branch below had Dick scramble to hold on. Just as he heard a man's voice below the great maple's branches at ground level.
"Are you alright, Dick??"
Did he sound, concerned?
"Coming down…..whoa!!"
The raccoon was about ( do not try this at home kids! This is fiction!) To go too, not a cat as to catch while Dick couldn't bare the thought of being the one to end its life while having saved it from being left to die by a hunter's trap. He swung out his arm and as if a baby bundle, they both fell through the tree tops together and into the arms of something rough and warm.
/
"It had a tag, good news." Slade got off his line as Dick iced up his poor shoulder. The same one he'd still needed to watch for the last week of bruises the man had left. "Your little innocent out there will be brought back by the rangers to have it taken in for whatever reason it had gotten left; you shouldn't have spared that rodent –
"It's the right thing to do. They'll be fine if you wear a disguise."
"You think so." Slade crossed his arms and headed away to wait for the vehicle with the Mounties to arrive at his doorstep. "If word finds the ears of our enemies, that raccoon will be the least of your worries. The next time you are given a task by me, do it and don't try to make a mess like this one."
Slade was annoyed for two reasons. They were supposed to be on the lamb, not seen Richard had guessed. Also, Slade was a loner based on the fact his guilt kept him away from others most of the time. Besides Dick and Wintergreen, the man was sociopathic and anti – social. It had to be, while the traumatized critter didn't make a peep from that scrap in the trees as the cage it was in was a trapping style. Dick wondered who had put a trap up that high. Maybe Slade had neighbors…
/
Dick heard Slade talking in a dialect that perfectly mimicked the locals of this town quite well it made him worry, his eyes moving as Slade came back for the boy once the animal was to its caretakers of this range. "The poacher is definitely not a local, yet we can't be found as anything more than residents ourselves. They're gone, but when I say from now on, I mean it."
"It wasn't ok. It had to be alright then. I didn't do anything."
"YOU." Slade pointed that finger harshly as Dick swallowed down his pride once more. "Shouldn't have done ANYTHING."
/
The boy wonder remembered interesting stories he'd read as a child. Settling down that night, by the morning it was wood chopping once more out back. Slade didn't even tell Dick to do it, the props and boots were already proof enough as the man was somewhere else. Maybe going to such lengths to be certain that no one had caught on to Richard's stunt. Dying? Really?
Dick swung the ace, the first splinter of wood bringing him to feel hollow. He ignored the cold on his arms and brought another. They five total were still not perfect. So, like a good underling to a master criminal, he did one better. He tried to male sure his aim wasn't off the mark. One day.
CHOP
That ace could be a weapon.
CHOP CHOP
A message from some crea-
Dick jumped back, the axe falling from his grip as the blade was on the moss of the stump to its side, as he spires an onlooker cooking its head. Paws to its sides and curled under, the little visitor didn't flinch.
"OK…" Dick took a look around, yet the creature scampered closer, looking harmless at first.
"Wrong way, I don't-
The creature sniffed and Dick saw on its leg a small ring there.
"Wait….you…you're the raccoon I –
He stopped, looking to see if Slade would jump out of the bushes. Dick turned back to the cabin, yet the raccoon didn't stop. It scampered on behind, a mama to her ducklings.
Dick turned, the raccoon on his hind legs. Maybe it was used to people. But…didn't it try to scratch him when he'd been up in that tree risking his neck for it?
"Um….you, what do I do…." Pacing a bit to think, the creature's eyes followed. It had to be young, maybe blind to humans and their intentions. Why else would it have escaped captivity or…or, come back to this spot for something…
Him?
The thing moved quickly, Dick trying not to stumble over a stump as it sniffed him, eyes big and brown rings peering past all of those insecurities. "Hey!" it took his shoulder, up it went until the fur ball as on his coat, like a cat to its owner or a coach. He was just a footstool for this confused little trouble maker…
Dick was careful as he tried to shrug it off, gloves on this time while the thing didn't protest being removed as much as he'd expected. Maybe a few nips, but no.
Very, very strange…
"Go home now, I can't –
"Hey!" it went after the door and peered up, expecting Dick to open it. "No. No food, I can't help. Go." Je directed the silly kid, yet it just added those eyes as a reason why Dick was unable to kick or bite back. It was…cute, but so in danger if Slade ever found this rodent on their porch. On the…mat?
/
"It's been in contact with humans."
Slade analyzed it, there was no way after it had found his shoulder again and the man had nearly raised his shot gun at the boy , point blank. After Slade had stopped spitting flames, the creature had been given…tests to see if it was in fact a pet or born in captivity it may have been, die to the exposure and the attachment the thing had to Dick's messy bed head.
"Did you call the rangers?"
"They're on their way. They said it got out. Smart, for a garbage picker." Slade snorted at the boy's one confusion; they were twin faces that reminded him however the reason, of his boys. One dead and gone, the other…
Out of his life, and good riddance.
/
The cute rebel was not meant for cabin life, but it just didn't stay put. It had already escape a total of four times, and every time, it found the cabin in the woods. Dick even woke to the little thief finding his room and the window, even if he had to scoop it up before it's luck ran out each and every other time.
It ate on the floor like a cat too. It's favorite foods were berries and nut mixes that Slade only ate around special occasions. The rangers were afraid that if it left its target, the creature's state would forever become a difficult one. Their proposal, that it stay for the season that Slade intended to keep the cabin by, then be transferred to a place with raccoons it could eventually integrate with.
Slade made it clear in his best drawl that the business he worked in was too upsetting to travel with a live creature; even if the boy was practically bonded against his will to the little heart snatching bandit. It was cleaned up, shots, everything as if it were a damned pet. Dick wondered why, maybe it had been in a case similar to being trafficked with its family. That was illegal in places like this, yet the reason was soon forgotten as Dick accepted that while they were on this journey, his newest furry companion could certainly share some of the less…gory memories.
In truth, it came fishing with them too. It loved the mini minnows as Slade made sure to keep it on a long leash with the teen right beside him. "I didn't give him a name yet."
"Don't." Slade cut off the kid as he swung his line back into the cool waters. "The more attached to something you become, the harder it will be to part with that something. The raccoon is a wild animal. It will forget as easily as we are able to move on and do our jobs properly."
"Mammals mourn, don't they?"
"Is this about your bird dilemma, again?"
"No." Dick dropped his line as the baby teen – raccoon chattered for Dick to bring him another minnow. "But, if we can mourn, why do we think we're the only ones with a good memory of those things that made us? Or helped us. He'd be dead in a tree and…. I hope you didn't set up that t I'm not the one trying to catch birds at my doorstep." Scoffed the man as he set off his reel and relaxed his arms a bit. "An amateur set up that line. Maybe it was set up before we came, who knows." With a tug, there was a catch as Dick made sure to throw it in the bucket. All while their little mask wearing customer attempted to bat playfully at the fish in the barrel. Slade tried to ignore the fact that this little boy was going to get fat and spoiled, and he didn't surely want a fine from the rangers here on the Canadian borderlands.
"You'll have to say your goodbyes, eventually."
Slade turned to toss a fresh minnow to the little rascal as he leaped with every intention to not see it hit the ground. Well, willpower was everything, but determination was well rewarded as the three packed up their catches and headed to the cabin for a vitamin rich feast.
/
Dick was sure that he'd seen the little guy by the den window. Shaking his head with a grin, Dick picked up his book and placed it to the side. Stepping to the window as he lifted the latch, the little seeker was certainly waiting to stay out from the cold after it had done its business. Mostly, to talk to others like itself if it could find any.
"Hiya, Lupin. Catch any good news today, buddy?"
Slade's brow arched up from his newspaper. "Excuse me?" The man was sure he'd been explicit in telling the boy off from some silly aspiration of his.
"Lupin. Like, Arsene Lupin, from the story of the phantom thief? It's a French classic and we are in French Canada. He should be proud of his assorted "heritage." Dick let the little scoundrel ride on his shoulders as the boy retrieved his book he'd been assigned to STUDY. Not to read for pleasure. The little rat was becoming a distraction…but, clever. How ever did it know to look this closely… Unless, it had the boy's scent down pat at a twenty-mile radius.
/
The call came through that night as Dick slept with a now squeaky-clean rodent atop his scalp. Thankfully, it was worm free. For the while, and this would be the last time the two could…bond.
"Understood. Then you have our word, Friday it is." Slade let the call drop with a click. Too bad too. This hunting trip had never happened, yet the killings of fish had to have kept the boy in his state of being for later lessons. Or so Deathstroke hoped. Now, to give the rangers a call by the morning. It was time to finally hit the road.
They had a contract, and it was in a place surrounded by steel and concrete as far as the eye could ponder.
/
The boy.
Hugged, the little shit.
Slade seethed in a cuss, the ranger standing feet from him, there and a bit baffled yet helpful as the poor critter gave one playful grab of Dick's face, before leaving to be boxed up and sent to a nice home for teenage nocturnal animals.
"Did you pack."
"I, did." Dick clutched his face a minute and it was surreal. Maybe this was what Beast boy's life had been like when he'd still been traveling the world, Africa. To study…
The animal with Sakutia that had changed his life .
Well, it was over and yet those cool pads of Lupine's hand – feet made Dick wince at the reminder, that someone had wanted him.
Needed him.
He really hoped that little guy was strong enough to live a long life, as they pulled away in the jeep. The cabin doors shut for another time that he'd one day return.
/
The tracing of whatever it had been well before; when the Bat and the Titans had crossed wires over Dick's disappearance, no one spoke in the while or knew a thing. It was fall, November was coming to close in and Starfire with her teammates had traced a line via their telecommunications and the Bat's advice to this Canadian log cabin up on a slope in the mountains. Starfire did not shiver as Cy looked about the area for any signs of a change in the structure or an underground base. He found the gym, unused. The kitchen with its lack of anything that could spoil, but by the back doorway, a little stranger still, a small figure, grey and curious wove its way through the misty mountain.
"It's ok!" Bb turned into the creature by habit. The green raccoon chatting as the other looked well fed and not at all worse for wear. ~ He's not from around here, he said someone he used to leave him food. Was his…home…a…. kid? ~
"That…. he is not a human, nor a four legged companion. How would such a little one even…" Starfire gasped. "Robin!" She turned to look to the window above, the raccoon hopping aboard her shoulder as she let him. The scent of a friend was familiar as the
"BB, what did the lil' dude see? Come on, we need details. Slade's gotta be on the road or at his new base by now."
"The tracks here are…" Raven touched the ground with one palm. "There."
Even stranger still, the raccoon followed. "Yo! B. He can't come with."
"But his family was here, he told me."
"Can 'talk now, B."
Bb and the raccoon both made a sulky face at the older Titan.
"Those were his memories, but how can he be so docile. Has to be a case from some facility or he was a captive there as a baby. Most chimps born into captivity don't hate humans like they do when avoiding people in the wild. He must be a big kid, aren't ya-
Sniffing the boy's nose, again Bb startled the detectives.
"DUDES! I GOT IT!"
The three watched as Bb's grin was at big and bushy as the raccoon's tail. "Rob's scent is on this list guy! He's the one Lupin's been looking for, just like us. What are odds of that?"
"Like the plant?"
"NO!" Cy took his arm and opened up a link. "The "gentleman thief and detective; Arlene Lupin."
"So, he left us a clue. Now what."
"Rave, get an image of the tracks and a sample of that dirt. Bb we are gonna need that little guy's fur to confirm it's our boy that was staying here."
"There was a gym and no food." Raven said with a lack of enthusiasm as usual. "This has to be one of Slade's hideouts. He must have left a few days ago before we had a chance to catch up."
"Now, we've got this lil' guy to thank for being such a hero. Way ta' go, Lupin!" Bb and the little guy got along, yet it was due to their scents and the memories and emotions the young fur ball felt. His dear family even for a month was there, in their arms once. Just like he'd been. How he might find out if they'd ever really get to say hello again.
/
Dick Grayson crunched along the path of a weathered building in the middle of the wild country. There was still a way to keep it this way. Unused. And, well…not much doing since Slade's apprentice had gone on his own for a bit. Renegade had waited, waited to come back here despite Slade not getting a clue.
The porch was rotten through and the wood was growing new life atop it. No one had come back since Batman had declared this place a problem while searching…what was the reason for returning then? Getting caught was beneath a renegade. But this, this renegade had a new commitment.
He looked down and saw two weary, shining eyes gazing back. Soft, clear and perhaps too long had he waited as Dick Grayson dragged his toned body down into the dark to pull out a lump of fur.
"Lupin, I found you too. You were waiting….all this time?"
Fall was over, it was not snowing but, Dick felt for his pack. A blanket was in it and a scarf as he wrapped the aging bundle of stripes up to keep it alive. Living….he'd saved it like it had tried to have him grin even in the saddest time he'd spent as a kid. A teen, and like him…they'd seen hope together. Dick's eyes were moist as he let the door fall to the side. He had to find shelter before the cold set….
/
The drive with the bundle was to a ranger station that had a vet clinic for the wild and caught there to it. This was Canada, a place that made him feel safer than any place. Besides running on and off, Dick had the wrapped bundle as he put his head down and slept while the staff and vet looked at the damage.
In a few hours, it was night. Night, and so cold out that he'd never want to head to that cabin, but he had to. "Mr. Wislon?" (Made up.)
Richard was called in as the last puffs of breath of his dear fuzzy, comical companion were not only perfect to match, yet it held out a hand. "He's an old boy. You….you, you may want a moment."
He'd kept in touch over the line when the time had come to take charge of his world, his contracts. Slade told the boy that it might die from being too domesticated in the wild. That as smart as Lupin was, he was still not as wise to run from those he could trust. And those that would bring him harm. Though, it was him. Dick knew that set of eyes were any different or the brow it grew had turned a deathly white. This was the last time his eyes could see into the future. "I do want a moment, I'm sorry…" The drawl helped to relax his hosts here, so they let him be as the raccoon let out a soft croon that had the boy in Dick's mind, starting to sob loudly. He withheld it until the very end.
"You…. you knew I'd be back…. I knew you'd stay around to see what…what I am to you. Are we still…. fam?"
The raccoon let its eyes shut in a happy grin as Dick embraced it with the power of his grip so very withdrawn. He could do far worse, yet animals were…he refused to kill any without reason, even children as Slade himself had a similar oath paid by the death of his own son. That was who Dick never wanted to admit he'd become. Ravager was a fan boy; not like he was. Too …. too similar as the tears, they coated the cooing back of the now twenty-two-year-old raccoon. A legend of bravery and loyalty that no hunting dog could top.
"You and I lived, Lupin…. then, I'll make sure your always there. Always home where I can see you again…. just the three of us…Goodbye…. buddy…."
/
The remains of the animal companion were granted to Dick. He'd sort of acted as a guardian angel when the time had come to open those doors. The little fellow was given a proper place and a small alter to see to the home. The one that he decided would always be here, even in passing.
Dick took an axe, leaped into the windows and…
BAM!
This place, had given something, only to steal it back without stating why. Dick chopped the walls up, he slashed at the wooden banisters, the roof was already on its way, the next day….
Again, he let the back door fall with the entrance, he dug a hole and made sure it had surrounding stones and plenty of cover. He didn't want to leave things half finished.
The third day, he got a saw handy and started to take up the floor boards. The kitchen going with the scent of river minnows and crayfish galore.
The fourth day, Dick went to the basement and started to topple over the mats. He brought a mallet and went stir crazy until the holes in the walls, resembled the bruises he had eared for not being ruthless enough to fight back.
The fifth and final day, he made sure to contract and direct a burning of the cabin that would not affect the woods. It had to be a low brush, so he made sure to dig and dig around it. Being small enough, the cabin's moat took the course of three extra days. Dick was saved by the motel down the road on the kills that had paid for this ceremonial burial of a dear friend.
The ashes were kept, those would not burn, but this? This mockery of a happy life?
He took it apart, ashes to ash as the rest was put out by morning. The cleared area stayed from getting crisp, no singes of the pristine area, despite the lawsuit he'd find on Slade's desk if he should ever be so lucky. The ashes, those were removed as he started to type off a text to some old acquaintances.
/
Gar Logan was a senior at the tower, a man with something always new in the world to explore. Yet, somehow today, he was more worn from his own ego than anything. Cy knocked on the door to his room as the two shared glances. "Got a package. Says it's from Renegade."
/
The Red, Dick had learned from BB years before they had parted, connected all things on the planet through a sphere of spiritual "impression" which was how they believed that Lupin was so bonded to the boy. Not by magic, but by something deeper. BB saw the name off of the canister of ashes and the heroes all looked at one another. "It…has been a long time. I guess, we have ta' honor his last request like this."
"Yeah." Gar clutched the ash holder and wondered if Dick had almost gone back over from the dark side. If he had the ashes then, how did he still remember that the Titans all knew Beastboy's connections to that other plane?
/
So, death life and rebirth in this is a bit…. juvenile but it counts to say that yes. Raccoons like Lupin were a dime a dozen. How his tenacity was that Dick still stuck to his good in himself despite the poor role model he ended up stuck with? Well, the Red was mentioned in Titan the live action series and I had to build on it because big animism philosophy I have in that. Raven found that and Bb found that Dick's emotions and scent carried on for a very long time on the young raccoon's shoulders. They have the ashes, but I guess he'll be taken to the place that doesn't make Dick wonder about how he can't ever recall that memory OR – or, Slade convinced him to stop playing the good boy and tell the Titans to bury his last bit of innocence with what Robin was to them. It's a similar one shot as Hair cut when Dick's lock of hair is given to the heroes with a usb drive to tell them that he's long gone. That they won't ever see him again, and so this is like that too. The cabin was left to rot and ruin since the Titans put a lock on it, then it just…. fell into disrepair until Dick purchased the item to have that reason to see it return to ashes.
Angsty, and he even paid for Lupin to be taken care of and continued to watch from afar once Slade realized that the mourning period really did screw him up a bit. Renegade is now without anything to ground him, so let's see if he goes with Slade and never befriends another critter if he gets the man's drift – he's a killer and he saved one life while others were lost. It was kind of sad, because they didn't save him and he didn't want to lose the Titans – Lupin made sure he'd get a good place to pass on and as soon as he broke ties, the apprentice began his next steps into the dark for real.
No strings. But, wanted is like this. He had someone who was there for him, but it was a really cheesy end and plot to this. I just thought a side to Dick that face it, this is fantasy, yet Slade isn't a monster until he's forced to let go of the past as a hero. So, burning the cabin, the past that tried to mask what he was really being conditioned for, was the breaking point. He planned to torch it, take the ashes and get out as soon as and as long as it took. He did it, and hopefully Betsy the hen can forgive our hero, too.
Let me know what you think! It didn't get too long, but it's been bad weather. Angry gut and that feeling, it makes you want to type till no tomorrow. Until the next one shot. Stay tuned!
/