Titans: Rise of Talon

Voices from the Past

"You...you knew my dad?"

        All of the self-fury melted out of Slade's body when he heard the boy's whisper. Slowly, he turned around to find Richard standing in the doorway. His too-small frame was swallowed by a slightly oversized T-shirt and cargo pants, and his ebony hair hid his downcast eyes. The teen grit his teeth, and everyone in the room could see the his fists shaking in restraint.

"How? How could you possibly know my dad well enough to calm him your friend?! How could my dad ever be friends with someone like you?! You're a mercenary, an assassin, a freaking supervillain! And he was a...he was an acrobat. He was...he was my..."

How could my dad be friends with Slade? How did they even meet?

"John Grayson wasn't—"

"Don't you dare say his name!" Richard screamed, "You don't have that right! Don't you ever say his name!"

Was Slade dreaming, or was the gold coming back into Richard's eyes?

"Calm down, boy!" he shouted back angrily. Dick seethed as he stood with his fists at his sides, glaring up at his captor. Slade crossed his arms over his chest.

"Now, as I was saying, your father wasn't just an acrobat."

"You're lying. He was a Flying Grayson through and through. It was our—his livelihood."

"That may be, but it wasn't his only occupation. Tell me, Richard, how did the Court of Owls know you were their next Talon? The bloodline curse is passed down from the father to their firstborn."

"How do you know?" Richard snapped.

"Because your father needed someone on the outside to know what was going on."

"Outside of where? The circus? There's no way! Pop Haley would never let Owls into his circus. I don't believe you!"

"And what of the children that went missing during the big shows? And the special performance for the wealthy of Gotham done solely by those under the age of twelve? Surely, you must remember. You would have been in quite a few of them."

"I don't care what you say! Haley's Circus isn't some branch of the Court of Owls. Pop wouldn't let that happen!"

"Then how did your father get in?!" Slade barked back. He was getting tired of this boy's obstinance.

"You saying my dad was an Owl?!"

"No, I'm saying he was their Talon!"

"That's it! I'm going to kill you!" Richard shrieked, eyes glowing gold in hatred. It was one thing to mess with him. It was another to ruin his family's name.

"Not in the kitchen, if you don't mind," Wintergreen stepped up, arms stretched out to them as he stood between them, "Now, there will be none of that in here. Richard, perhaps you may want to listen to what is being said, rather than who is saying it. And Slade," he deadpanned at the mercenary, "try to be sensitive with the topic. Shouting doesn't make it any easier for either of you. Both of you at least pretend to be civil. It's not that hard."

"My father wasn't a Talon," Richard stated, not noticing when his eyes started turning back into their original color.

"And why do you say that?"

"Because Batman said Talons were immortal, and...and my dad wasn't. My parents are buried in Gotham Cemetery. I was at their funeral. Bruce paid for it."

Slade rubbed his chin in thought, "Was it a closed casket burial?"

"Yes, but I don't see what that has to do with—"