A/N: Sorry for the long wait, everyone! I've been crazy busy irl and needed to get the storyline figured out. I still don't have quite everything planned, but I appreciate you all hanging in there and being patient. Thank you!
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The Island
06:33 SST
December 1st
....
Robin's chest heaved up and down as he stared at the man only a few feet away, the man who wore Slade's armor. The man who was Slade behind the mask.
"Good, you're awake. Welcome back."
"Wh-Where am I? What's going on? Why? What?" Robin stammered and pressed a chilled hand to his sweating forehead with a groan. He had one killer headache. He shivered unconsciously and rubbed his eyes, making a startling discovery. He shakily brushed his fingers over the exposed skin around his eyes and looked up at Slade with a sense of dread the mercenary had never seen.
"Why'd you take my mask?" he asked in a barely audible whisper, startling blue eyes dull and lifeless.
"Your survival overruled your silly need of hiding your identity."
"Do you know who I am?"
Slade quirked an eyebrow at that. Now that he thought about it, the boy did look familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen his face. Ever since their rivalry began, the boy had always been Robin. The masks they wore were just another part of their face.
"Should I?" he replied. Robin quickly shook his head, unintentionally signaling the exact opposite.
"Doesn't matter," he answered slowly. If Slade didn't recognize him, then there was no way he was going to help him put a name to the face.
Slade leaned back in his chair and studied the boy, sifting through his memories to find who he looked like. A smirk grew as he put the pieces together within seconds.
"You're Bruce Wayne's ward. Aren't you? Does your billionaire daddy know you go running around beating up bad guys, or is he the big bad bat himself?"
Robin's face paled even further. He knew. Slade knew. His hands balled into the blanket covering his torso, fisting the material inside his grip. He sucked in a deep breath. He had come up with a plan for this kind of situation a long time ago; he just never thought he would have to put into action.
"Bruce doesn't know that I'm Robin," he said steadily, "Right now, he thinks that I'm at a college in Europe. I was actually supposed to fly home for the holidays next week."
Slade quirked an eyebrow at the boy's lie and decided to toy with him, see just how much the teen had thought about this.
"Really now? Then how do you bats afford your toys?"
"Batman has his own fortune, but I've used my trust fund for my own gear since our falling out." A half-truth. He did have to use his own money for certain things, and it helped him branch out and experience responsibility.
"So you're telling me that Batman helped train a child that wasn't even his, but who was actually the ward of a well known socialite, and added him to his pathetic crusade against crime?"
Robin glared at the jab to his mentor's mission, "He saw what I needed and pulled me away from warpath I was on. Batman saved me from myself."
It was easy to talk about Batman and Bruce being separate people, because oftentimes they were. Bruce was the father-figure he needed and the shoulder he could cry on. Batman was the teacher and the one who created the outlet for his pain. Their personalities contrasted so much; it was easy to set them apart.
"And what about the injuries you no doubt collected over the years?"
"I was a clumsy kid in a big house, and Bruce doesn't have a large attention span," he replied quickly, noting the strange undertone in Slade's words. It sounded like he didn't approve of Batman training him. But that's what lured him into wanting him as an apprentice, right? If he had not become Robin, then Slade would have had no use for him. Then again, he did start at a younger age than most of the leaguers, and not everyone was okay with that.
"If the Batman saved you and you are so grateful, then why did you two fall out?"
Robin's eyes narrowed, but he knew this question would be coming eventually. And sometimes the truth was the best lie, "Someone was targeting both me and my alter-ego. Bruce and Batman began to smother me in their own ways, whether it was to hire a bodyguard or try to bench me. Gotham was too stifling."
"So the little bird spreads his wings and flees the nest," Slade drawled forebodingly as he left the chair to stand at his full height, "Tell me, Robin, just how long were you willing to lie to me?"
"I wasn't lying!" he denied, wishing beyond anything that he still had his mask to hide behind and that his headache would end already.
"Bruce Wayne is Batman," Slade declared as though it was solid fact. Richard could feel his face turning red, but whether it was from the shame of letting his guardian down or from the overwhelming urge to cry he didn't know.
"Is this why you never removed the mask, even from your friends?" Slade continued, "Because one look at you, and the most carefully guarded secret of the Justice League is exposed for all to see?"
"If you know everything, then why are you even talking to me?!" Robin demanded, "So you can gloat?! Well, congratulations! You've won! What more do you want from me?!"
The last question wasn't exactly aimed at Slade, but at his life in general. Ever since he donned the mask and cape, he shouldered a burden no boy his age had carried before. Mix that with his body aching from the Change, and he was beginning to snap under the pressure.
Slade observed the young man on the verge of hysterics with a critical eye. Robin was never this unstable, even during his time as his unwilling apprentice. He channeled his rage and confusion into a fight, no, into his persona. The boy before him was not Robin. This was the broken teen behind the mask, the one he did his best to hide from the world.
He leaned down and placed a hand on Robin's trembling shoulder, causing the teen to flinch, but he didn't back away. He wasn't sure he had the strength to. Steel gray-blue eyes met glossy sapphire.
"I did not tell you this, so I could gloat," he explained, never breaking eye contact, "It was so to show you that this burden was never yours to bear. But if you are still so concerned, I can assure that I had no intention of using your identities against you," Slade paused, expression changing to what looked like a teasing grin, "That is, unless I absolutely have to. But you are safe here."
"Who are you, and what have you done with Slade?" Robin asked with narrowed eyes. There was no way this man trying to reassure him was the same as the psycho that blackmailed him into being his apprentice last year. He refused to believe it.
Slade chuckled, his laugh a soothing timbre as he backed away, "Get some rest, Robin. We'll talk more later."
Robin fidgeted with his sheets. He felt terrified about being trapped with his greatest rival and naked without his mask. He had worn it for so long, everything looked and felt weird without that shield before his eyes, protecting the innocent Dick Grayson from the horrors Robin fought against.
"Can I have my mask back?" he asked and quickly added, "Just because you don't plan on using my identity, doesn't mean that anyone else that walks in has the same idea."
"I can assure you that everyone here is completely loyal to me," Slade stated with his arms crossed, and he took a long look at the, now recovering, teen.
The boy before him was the polar opposite of Robin. Nervous. Fidgety. But the eyes were the real shock. They held such a childlike innocence Slade had seldom come across, and it reminded him of when his Talon side first awoke. That fear of the unknown and the need to rely on someone else instead of everyone relying on him.
The Bat had broken him, Slade realized. He had stressed so many secrets and so much fear of discovery into that boy, that, in essence, he became two separate people. Without the mask, the boy couldn't cope, and he didn't have confidence in the skills that drew Slade's attention.
Slade stepped closer the boy and placed both hands on the boy's shaking shoulders, grounding him.
"We are going to put Robin away for a while," he said in tone once used to soothe his own boys a long time ago—a time he thought he had forgotten, "which means I'm going to have to call you something else."
Dick's eyes blurred. If he told him his name, it would mean admitting the truth, but he couldn't see any way around it. If he told a lie, Slade would find out, and then he would be in even worse trouble than before. He had no choice.
"Ri-," he coughed, "Richard. Richard Grayson."
Slade nodded and made his way to the door, "Get some rest, Richard. We'll talk more later."
And with that, the mercenary vanished from the room. Richard released a deep sigh and slunk back into the pillow and mattress. And with no one to see him, he finally unleashed the hot tears he had been holding back.
"I'm...I'm so sorry, Bruce," he whispered, "I'm so sorry..."
Worst. Birthday. Ever.
..........
"How is he?" Wintergreen asked as Slade entered the monitor room, breakfast long forgotten.
"Shaken, to say the least. That blasted Batman has damaged his psyche more than I thought. I'm putting the masks away for a while, until he's grown used to what he is now and regained the fire he had before. But until then, it looks like we'll be staying on the island for a while."
Will nodded and stared at the monitor showing the recovery room, where Richard sat and cried quietly to himself, palms pressed over his eyes. He was quite different from the apprentice Slade had told him he could be.
"Sensitive boy, isn't he?"
Slade quirked an eyebrow, "What are you trying to say?"
"From the way you described him—headstrong, fierce, powerful, hotheaded— I thought the boy reminded me of Grant. But seeing him now, I think he resembles Joseph more, don't you?"
"That's a dangerous way to be thinking, Will," Slade glared, "I am not trying to replace my sons with Richard."
The old Brit held up his hands as a sign of peace, "I didn't say that. I'm just saying there's a quite a few things he has in common with them. I was just saying that maybe, and just maybe, this could be your second chance. Be careful with him."
"You make him sound like some glass figurine," Slade huffed, positively miffed about the topic. His apprentice was not weak. Tears did not mean he would shatter. He would be more concerned if Ro—no, Richard didn't react to his situation. It would mean he had given up.
Will frowned, "For once in your immortal life, Slade, listen to me. If you want to gain his loyalty, his trust, then you are going to have to do more than you did the first time you tried this stunt. He needs more than an instructor. Just think about it," he finished and strode out of the room, leaving Slade alone with his thoughts.
He needs more than an instructor.
He saw what I needed and pulled me away from the warpath I was on. Batman saved me from myself.
I'm not just here to save Raven, am I? I'm here to save you too.
I already have a father.
Robin, we meet at last.
Slade!
This..This is your fault! You killed him! My baby boy is dead because of you!
Now, just like that, Grant. Stay focused. You don't want to lose sight of your target.
Hey, hey, Joey, it's okay. The poor critter was on its last leg anyway. He's better now. He won't suffer anymore.
Come here, Rose. That's it. One step at a time. Come to daddy. That's right. You got it!
This could be your second chance. Be careful with him.
I love you, Adeline. I'll be home soon.
Come on, Will! One more match! No holds barred!
If you wake up, you will be the greatest soldier this army has ever seen.
The name's John Grayson.
We're going to put Robin away for a while, which means I'm going to have to call you something else.
Ri-Richard Grayson.
Slade opened his eye, not remembering when he had closed it. Richard Grayson was the little circus boy Bruce Wayne took in after his parents died in some performance accident. The mercenary ran over to the computer and started typing.
Richard was once a part of Haly's Circus.
Richard was John Grayson's son.
He wasn't just any Talon. He was the Talon, coming from a long line of firstborn assassins for the Court of Owls, but he was taken away before they could get their hands on him. He wasn't just a lost soldier to them; he was the heir.
The Gray Son. How have I not seen this sooner?!
Did the Justice League even know the value of the tool they had used? The power that had once been at their fingertips? Surely Batman had some idea that his ward was more than human.
Slade dug up everything there was on Richard Grayson. Genius level IQ, particularly when it came to anything involving mathematics, and a professional gymnast. Graduated high school years ahead of his peers and was being groomed to one day look after Wayne Enterprises whenever Bruce left the scene, though for some reason, that endeavor brought about fewer results than expected. All of this, and this was just when he was out of costume. His exploits as Robin were even more outstanding.
Now it was time to do what the Bat could not.
Meld Richard, Robin, and Talon into one.
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A/N: And that's a wrap. Happy late Christmas everyone! Please tell me what you think, and I hope you all have a great day/night!