The walk was silent, while he wasn't exactly relaxed he was a lot less anxious than before, knowing Kid Flash hadn't sold him out. That didn't stop the nerves from crawling into his skin, making him itch on the inside like he was walking to his doom rather than a simple library.
The distance traveled was short, the entrance to the library was a wide, heavy, automatic lifting door. The sigh gave the apprentice a thought, knowing Batman, there was probably a secret passage behind one of the bookcases inside. He couldn't wait to find out where, it could be a good spot to hide in if he were to become too crowded.
His mischievous thought was quelled by a sudden observation. To fuel Renegades growing fear, the library was wide open, lots of open space, although it was rather dim.
Dim lights... lots of shadows... big open area.
Too vulnerable.
Canary kept walking in, and Renegade couldn't help but feel like a fish on a line, reeled in to be gutted and served for lunch.
On that happy imagery, Renegade was brought to a different room, smaller thankfully, but much more crowded.
Miss Martian was finally accounted for, she sat in a green single chair next to an identical but vacant chair. She sat stiffly and attentively, obviously here to pick at his brain. Again, a dead fish was brought to the young mercenaries mind.
Another being caught his attention, he would have mistaken him for Batman but he lacked the cape and the cowl, but certainly had the dark and brooding factor. The unnamed man's suit was all black, save it be the blue bird-like symbol across his chest onto his shoulders, even his utility belt was black. Now that's just bad style, Renegade critiqued.
He didn't realize he had paused in the doorway until Canary prodded him in, he nearly jumped out of his skin when she did, but he was able to minimize it to a flinch instead.
Batman-look-alike had a deep scowl and watched him with merciless eyes, if Renegade didn't know any better he might have assumed he was a bad guy, instead of himself.
"Sit." The man growled, masked eyes narrowing and head bending slightly down as if to show his dominance.
Renegade promptly sat in the vacant chair, keeping his gaze on the highest threat in the room. Renegade didn't want to show it, but he was really scared right now. This man scared him more than the Joker, more than Batman. His lungs shuddered without his permission and he grunted to hide it. His hands gripped each other in his lap as he felt his forehead begin to perspire.
Big empty room, dim lights, dangerous people.
This scene was screaming disaster, heavy on the dis. His panic was escalating to an alarming height, but was able to hide it from manifesting in a physical panic attack.
Canary slid over to the unnamed man, leaning casually against the chair that the young acrobat supposed was the man's chair.
"Renegade, this is Nightwing, he used to be a partner to Batman. He is going to talk to you." Canary said. If she noticed how nervous he was, she did nothing about it. He could only imagine what the telepath was getting from him, he was in no state to mentally shield himself. "He's going to ask you some questions, Miss Martian is here to assure you are telling the truth. But don't worry, anything said in this room stays here with us and Batman."
Of course, Renegade figured as much. 'Talk to' was a bit more like 'interrogate' in this situation, this guy didn't look like he did 'talk'. Besides, they were only trying to get information from him, not much else. The question was, should he answer?
Nightwing didn't sit, he kept standing, his folded arms like a wall, a wall that was about to fall on him.
"Canary says you don't want a therapist," Nightwing started and sat down, somehow able to maintain his aura of dominance. "You get your wish, this isn't therapy. This is an interrogation."
Renegade shrugged nonchalantly, hiding how much this man terrified him. "Figured as much."
"What caused your panic attack?"
Renegade blinked, surprised this was the first question. His panic momentarily forgotten. Also, didn't he just say this wasn't a therapy session? Well, actually, if he was in their position he too would ask. Answering would be a good idea, but details wouldn't be necessary. With this amount of pressure crashing back down on him, he was surprised he didn't break right then and there. C'mon Grayson, you got this, Slade wouldn't put you here if he didn't think you were capable. He talked himself out of freaking out, but his face couldn't help but redden.
He barely drew a breath when he spoke, feeling a bit breathless even though he knew he was probably close to hyperventilating. "A combination of things, triggers I guess," Renegade answered vaguely, almost mumbling, eyes lowered in an attempt to keep a lid on his internal panic. He had no idea how much he should reveal, Deathstroke literally left him flailing in the deep end, with only the advice of 'if you want to' to help.
Nightwing's stoic face didn't change. "Triggers made by Deathstroke?"
Renegade's eyebrows furrowed, that possibility never even came to mind. Deathstroke would never purposefully make him afraid of something, every fear Renegade had was his own. Deathstroke helped him much more than he ever hurt him. So why did everyone think everything wrong with him was Deathstroke's fault?
"Not really." He grunted out, a bit put off by the attack on his mentor.
"Then where are they from?"
Renegade clenched his jaw, he refused to share that information. Afraid that if he opened his mouth, the horrors would all spill out. He didn't want anyone finding out, he only trusted one man with that information and that man sold him to the heroes.
"Fine. We'll do this a different way." Nightwing growled. "Do you enjoy killing?"
Renegade didn't answer for a few seconds, still in rebellion to the first question, but then his chest expanded and he spoke. "Enjoy is... a strong word. I don't DISlike it, but enjoy seems a little too maniacal for me."
"Then let's use a different word, how about 'agree with'. Do you agree with your mentor's methods of problem solving?" Black Canary butted in. Renegade wanted to point out she was totally playing therapist but he found a better use of his vocal chords in answering her question.
"Absolutely, yes." Renegade smiled.
"So you don't condone killing?" Nightwing returned to the conversation, eyes ever set on the murderer's apprentice.
"I condone unnecessary killing. But things die, and whether it's by my hand or someone else's, they're still going to die." Renegade reasoned with a shrug.
"And what's happens when you don't agree with Deathstroke? Does he punish you?" Nightwing asked. His voice, if it were possible, became slightly softer.
-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-
An 11 (and a half -he insisted) year old Dick jumped around a tall mercenary, clapping his hands and grinning wildly. Slade clad in his Deathstroke armor watched with a certain fear in his eye. This child's excitement about moving to a new base was startling and a little frightening to the one-eyed man.
"Alright, let's not get too excited," Deathstroke said, trying to calm the boy jumping for joy.
"Let's go! Lets go! Where is it?!" Dick yelled, running around the edge of the roof they were standing atop of, as if he could see his destination even though he lacked the knowledge to even know what it looked like.
"You'll miss the surprise if you're too busy being excited." Deathstroke said warily, the child's joy was exhausting to watch, didn't he ever get tired?
"Is it bigger? Do I have my own room? Can I bring Matthew? Do we bring anything? Does it have a trapeze set?" Dick paused his rambling to gasp loudly. "What about an actual kitchen?!" Dick rose from his crouched position on the lip of the building as he grinned at the disgruntled old man.
"Yes, it has a functioning kitchen. Now get off the edge of the roof." Deathstroke said. Having eyed the boy throughout his excitement, he noticed the boy became steadily unaware of his surroundings. If the boy were to misstep where he was, he would fall into the alley six stories below.
"YES!" Dick threw two fists into the air in celebration.
Only to fall backwards.
And scream.
Quick as a snake, Deathstroke lunged forward, grasping at Dicks coat collar before hoisting him up onto the roof.
The boy fell to the ground, his body numb with his near death experience, no doubt the memory of his parents' horrible death replaying in his mind.
"Dick, I told you to get off the edge." Deathstroke reprimanded with a small glare.
The shaky ebony haired boy didn't seem to hear him, his wide crystal blue eyes staring blankly at the ground in front of him. The boy was still in shock when Deathstroke stepped closer, angrily looking down at the boy.
Dick's eyes flicked to the man towering above him, his breath caught in his throat as a hand came up. He flinched away and buried his face in his arms, drawing up his knees to protect his vital organs.
What was supposed to be a supporting hand to help him up was viewed as a scolding hand to beat him down.
Deathstroke withdrew his kind gesture as he recognized the reaction, his frown deepening, knowing exactly what was the cause. Deathstroke knelt down slowly, taking off his helmet and speaking softly to the huddled bundle of jacket and dirty jeans. "Dick, it's all right, it's just you and me up here on the roof. But we shouldn't stay here, we need to go to our new home remember? The one with the fully equipped kitchen."
The boys watery eyes lifted, staring at Slade's unmasked gray eye before nodding slowly and sniffing up his boogers and whipping away his tears. He stood up numbly, giving the roof ledge a scared glance before shuffling closer to the now standing mercenary.
He reached up and grabbed Slade's gloved hand, swallowing down the rest of his fear. Slade would keep him safe.
-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-
"Renegade." Nightwing said impatiently, snapping his fingers in front of the frozen mercenary's face.
The young mercenary blinked, all traces of the trance like memory gone. What was that? His gaze snapped to the telepath next to him, "Did you do that?" He accused the Martian, narrowing his eyes, but she seemed surprised by the accusation.
"Renegade." Nightwing brought his attention back to the interrogation, but the anger in the young mercenary's eyes simply moved to a new target. "You blanked out for a moment, you were remembering something weren't you. Does the idea of punishment scare you?"
Nightwing was pulling his information and questions from experience, one of the reasons Batman himself wasn't here talking to Deathstroke's apprentice instead. Batman figured with Damian's past being somewhat similar to the boy's, he'd be more likely to get more out of the young mercenary.
Renegade scrunched his nose. "No." Punishments didn't scare him before, he didn't know why it would now. Or why he would suddenly have a very detailed memory come back up and replay in this very inopportune moment. It was probably the girl's fault, everything here seemed to agitate him. He really must be fragile if a simple prod from a telepath forced him into such a strong flashback.
Now not only was Renegade nervous, but he was also irritated. Nearly all of his triggers were just waiting to be pulled and everyone was convinced all his problems were Deathstroke's fault. He had to convince them he wasn't the bad guy. Well... he is a bad guy, but in this scenario he wasn't the one doing bad. It made sense in Renegade's mind, but he knew the heroes wouldn't understand.
"Deathstroke would never do anything to hurt me without purpose." Renegade mumbled, his eyes lowering to the ground as he tried to figure out a way to make the heroes see it without compromising his own position. They'd have no proof unless he split everything that happened to him, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
"You think fondly of him." Miss Martian said softly, glancing at Nightwing before settling her aburn gaze on the suddenly stiff mercenary. Renegade couldn't do much about how much the Martian sees, his mind was still a bit broken and crumpled, his mental walls were better now, but they still had holes. Not to mention she probably saw his memory, it was so strong, like he could have reached out and touched it.
Renegade was quick to respond to this question, eager to prove Deathstroke's innocence.
"Of course I do. He raised me, I'm not going to hate the man that-" Renegade caught himself, staring blankly at the ground, his face morphing into surprise with a hint of fear. He was going to say 'saved' but that would imply there was a time he wasn't with Deathstroke, and the details on that time of his life he would not share, even if his life was on the line. That secret would die with him, and the world would be better for it.
"The man that?" Nightwing prompted, noting the young mercenary's reaction to his own statement.
Renegade clenched his jaw and let the silence speak for him. His face heating up as his anger and fear grew.
Prompted telepathically by Miss Martian, Canary stepped in again, leaning forward a bit to make her intrusion. "Why do you hesitate? What do you fear from sharing your past? We just want to help."
"I was better off with the murderer." Renegade hissed, glaring at the heroine. These people had no idea who he was, what he'd been through, they had no say on how he should live his life. If there was ever a time where he wanted to drop kick a person, it would be right then.
"You seem irritated," Nightwing noted, clearly the boy didn't realize his increased breathing rate, clenched fists, and snarl-like glare that showed his teeth.
Renegade stood up, throwing his arms into the air, alarming all three heroes present. "Of course I do! Literally EVERYTHING about this situation irritates me! The no weapons! The lack of privacy! The constant mental probing! This giant mountain itself annoys me! Deathstroke took better care of me in four years than this hole of heroes in less than 24 hours!"
Wait.
Renegade shut his mouth, eyes widening just a bit. His wildly gesturing hands stilled, and he sunk back into the chair as realization dawned on his face.
He leaned forward and held his head in his hands as his wide eyes gaze stared blankly at the floor. "No, no nononono! Are you serious?! This is the mission!?" He exclaimed angrily. He sat back up and crossed his arms, glaring at the ground and not meeting any of the heroes' gaze. "Not. Whelming." He grumbled under his breath.
Nightwing was the first to speak, giving the young mercenary a second before starting his barrage of questions the kids' outburst created. "What mission? Why did Deathstroke send you here?"
The mat of ebony hair looked up for a moment, when his masked eyes saw all the heroes on edge the corner of his lips twitched up weakly. He would have laughed but the weight of the situation didn't seem like the right time. Nightwing looked ready to leap from his chair and strangle him, Canary slipped into a more maneuverable stance, and Miss Martian was stiff, eyeing him warily.
Renegade sighed, losing his smile but not returning to the glare, his face a bit more sad looking than anything. "He didn't. He sent me to Batman. Batman put me here. And my 'mission' here, apparently, is to open up. Deathstroke said something to me right before he left, he said my past was mine to share if I choose to do so."
Nightwing turned to Miss Martian, she nodded, the first visual clue Renegade caught that they were conversing telepathically. But he knew they'd been doing it this entire time and he couldn't do much about it, even if he wanted to.
Renegade continued after the pause, taking a deep breath. "...There's too much stimuli here, too many things that set me on edge. I can't survive here without opening up and letting someone who isn't S-Deathstroke help me. That's the point, that's the mission. I'm here because Deathstroke wants me to face my fears, and that includes sharing the fears I can't conquer by myself."
The heroes relaxed, each in their own sense of awe, this boy was much more mature than they thought.
The young mercenary looked up and Nightwing didn't need the Martian to know the boy was in pain, he could see it in his masked eyes. He wore a weak smile, his stance saggy in the chair as he rose a gloved hand in a pathetic wave. "Robin Wilson. I might as well just tell you." His smile was quick to disappear and his eyes drifted down again.
"That would make Slade Wilson Deathstroke." Nightwing deduced. Batman and company knew Slade Wilson was Deathstroke, but he said it just to make sure they were talking about the same Wilson.
Renegade nodded mutely.
Nightwing was about to ask a question when a telepathic warning from Miss Martian stopped him.
'Wait, he wants to say something, just give him some time to get the courage to speak. I haven't touched his mind at all, it's too fragile to be mentally attacked, but his thoughts have been leaking. He needs to get this out on his own.'
Renegade clenched his fist at his side, wishing he has something to fidget with, preferably a knife. His gaze flickered upwards a few times, his fear was really getting to him, he just needed to spit it out. "I- you-..." he paused and swallowed thickly, the gulp audible to even the non-super ears. "Y-you are part of it." He got out, and immediately he regretted it and wanted to hide.
"Part of what?" Nightwing asked. His first thought would have been a grand scheme Renegade and Deathstroke were cooking up, but the earlier information from Miss Martian told him otherwise.
Renegades chest shuddered as his breathing drew short and he forced himself to swallow down his fear for a moment. "My fears. I-I've always been afraid of heroes... taking me."
"Why is that?" Canary responded with a question, "Are you afraid of the consequences you would take responsibility for or the actual hero?"
Robin replied curtly, "I have no guilt for my actions." Then his gaze wavered and he grew quiet again. "...I'm afraid of being away from Slade."
Nightwing's eyes narrowed. He figured he knew what was happening now. Robin was too dependent on Slade, and now that he's not there, Robin was in shambles. It made Nightwing sick, Stockholm syndrome was not something he ever wanted to see in a child. Especially to a man as cruel and merciless as Deathstroke.
"Why?" Black Canary asked, her gaze on the young mercenary not exactly soft, but it wasn't as hard as Nightwing's glare.
"B-because he saved me, he took care of me, he taught me everything I know. He's the only person I trust." Robin said sadly. The statement reminded him that the only person he trusted was no longer here, he left him. Just, left him. Gone.
'He really misses Deathstroke... it's like he can't function without him.' Miss Martian noted worriedly, giving the young boy a sympathetic look.
'And that, would be Deathstroke's fault.' Nightwing stated with distaste.
'Stockholm?' Canary asked, a knowing look in her eye as she glanced quickly to Nightwing before returning her kind gaze to the resident mercenary.
'Stockholm.' Nightwing confirmed.
Canary gently spoke up, leaning forward in an attempt to be more diplomatic. "Well how about we help you, Slade isn't here-"
"I know he's not here! Everything tells me he's not here! You don't understand, I don't want any of this." Renegade cut off Canary as he grew angry again. A look from Miss Martian kept the vigilantes in their seats as the young mercenary continued to cry out in anger. "I never wanted any of this! I didn't know I would be sent here, I didn't- I don't, I don't know anything! I don't want or need your help! I was perfectly happy with Deathstroke!"
Once his spiel was done he folded his arms and looked away from the heroes, silent tears slipping under his mask.
"Robin, calm down." Nightwing said, "no sense in getting angry over something you can't control."
"I should be in control of my own life," Renegade growled, still not looking at the heroes.
Nightwing found his way in. "And that's why we're here, we want to give you a chance to live outside of Deathstroke, of course while you're here you do need rules..."
Robin snapped his head to the vigilante, if they noticed the tear streaks on his face they didn't mention it. "I never said I didn't want to be with Deathstroke. He doesn't control me."
Nightwing leaned forward and linked in hands in front of him as he propped his elbows on his knees. "Then why do you do everything he says? You said it yourself, you don't want any of this to happen, but you allow it to because Deathstroke ordered you to."
"That's different," Robin said with a huff.
"How so? Does he have leverage over you? Are you trying to protect someone by following his orders?"
"No! He's not... he's not that type of guy!" Robin fumbled, knowing first hand how much of a lie that was.
"Yes, he is," Nightwing said, almost sadly, it was difficult to watch such a young and obviously smart boy be blinded to the obvious.
"He's not to me." Robin grumbled and folded his arms, leaning back as he grew tired of this conversation. They wouldn't see it, they couldn't, he was unwilling to make the sacrifice to show them how wrong they were.
"...Robin, have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome?" Nightwing asked, almost gently.
"What." Robin blinked for a moment, confused, then angry. "You think... no! No no no! Ew no! He's like a dad to me! Ew no! I think I just threw up in my mouth. Heck no! I like him because he helped me, he didn't kidnap me. I wasn't forced into anything!"
Nightwing rose an eyebrow, Robin was talking as if Slade wasn't his father, 'like a dad' is different than 'is my dad'. Of course, Nightwing knew Robin wasn't Slade's blood son, Batman had determined that ages ago. He was curious as to why the boy believed so, and his theory started with a Stock and ended in holm. It would be awkward to have Stockholm for a family member, that was whole different level of wrong.
"Kidnap? You weren't with Deathstroke before?" Canary asked. Batman had told her of their findings, and she honestly didn't know which one was worse, being Deathstroke's son or not.
Robin felt the blood drain from his face. Crap.
Robin drew a breath to deny it, but one look at the Martian and he deflated. "Deathstroke... he... he isn't my actual father."
Nightwing, not at all surprised, asked the important question. "And Robin Wilson?"
"An alias, I use it just the same as I use Renegade," Robin grumbled looking down, clearly upset he had let his heritage slip.
"Then who are you really? Who are your parents?"
Robin gave the heroes an incredulous look. "You really think if I was with Deathstroke that my parents are actually alive?"
"How did the apprenticeship start?"
Robin hung his head, "He saved me, that's what I was going to say earlier... He... he raised me, I'm not going to hate the man that saved me."
"What did he save you from?"
"The streets..." Robin didn't meet their gazes, apparently this was something he didn't like to talk about.
'He's not lying, but there's more to it than just the streets, he's hiding it. Should we ask about it?' Miss Martian asked, wondering what on earth the boy could be hiding that was worse than what he's already done.
'No, we should push our luck right now, at the moment it doesn't matter.' Nightwing said, they were making progress, pressing him could shut him up. But it was an area that needed further exploration, just at a different time.
"We want to help you too," Canary said. "Deathstroke isn't someone who should be around kids, he is a bad influence, his lifestyle isn't what you should be living."
"I like living with Slade, I've lived his lifestyle for years, I'm fine with it." Robin protested with a frown.
"You need to be around kids your age." Canary continued. "Be a kid for once, a teenager, not a mercenary, not a killer."
Robin stayed silent. He didn't want that. He wanted Slade. But the thought was now tainted, Stockholm didn't always mean romantic love, it could be an abusive relationship. Is that what this was? Is that why he was so weak without Slade?
He pushed the thoughts out as soon has he thought them. Slade was his friend, his father, Slade helped him much more than he ever hurt him. No relationship was perfect, he liked his and Slades relationship, it was fun. Slade gave him everything he needed and barely asked anything in return. Slade didn't force this life on him, he chose it.
"How old are you anyway?" Miss Martian asked, sensing the resolve of the young mercenary was strengthening instead of crumbling. Though she could see there were flaws and cracks inside, this resolve he had wouldn't last long the more he thought about it.
"13." Robin answered quietly, still deep in thought.
Then it was silent.
Canary furrowed her brows and looked to Miss Martian. 'What's going on inside his head? He is more subdued than usual.'
'He is thinking. He didn't like what we said about Stockholm, he is clinging onto his view of Slade like a lifeline. But sooner or later, he will face the fact that Slade isn't who he thought he was. He knows it too, but ignores it, it's making him sad and upset.'
'We need to replace Slade with something else, something better. I think the first step would be to help with his triggers, find out what they are and at least make him able to be here without having a panic attack.' Nightwing said.
Canary agreed, deciding to speak first. "For right now, how about we get a better understanding of what causes your panic attacks."
Robin didn't seem to hear her at first, but then he slowly looked up and drew a deep breath. "Big... open spaces I guess... Large rooms make me feel in danger, when I can't avoid an open room I try to keep my back against the walls, I feel safer that way."
The boy was very monotone, it made the heroes frown, but they couldn't do much about that right now.
"What would Slade do to help you with this?" Canary asked. She actually didn't want to know what a mercenary would do, but they had no way of attempting to help without knowing first what helped him before.
"Simple. I just avoided big rooms. I'm fine outside though, there's buildings and allies, not just vacant openness."
"Would it make you feel better if someone was in the room with you?" Canary inquired, hoping to at least try and keep the panic attacks from happening.
"Not really, unless it was someone I trusted," Robin stated blatantly.
Canary's gaze grew soft, "Is that why you had a panic attack when Kid Flash was with you in the kitchen?"
Robin hung his head, immediately uncomfortable with the new topic. "That... was... something else. I'm not a big fan of people in general... especially ones I don't trust. Kid Flash startled me, he did something I wasn't expecting and it scared me." Robin said, looking down into his lap where he played with his hands. "I... I just never had these issues before because Slade never triggered them." Robin mumbled, then he glanced up hopefully, "...W-what did Kid Flash say calmed me down?"
Canary frowned while Nightwing's eyes narrowed. "Do you not remember?"
Robin didn't look up but said a simple word, "Please?"
Canary let out a concerned sigh and answered. "He said you calmed down once he gave you some room and you left to your room."
It was Robin's turn to sigh, hoping he wasn't making a mistake by telling the truth. "He lied." He honestly would never even touch the subject if it wasn't his mission. He would've gladly let the lie die with him when the time came, but if the mission was to open up, he had to be honest and hope they understand.
Black Canary frowned while Nightwing folded his arms. Miss Martian blinked in confusion as she knew the speedster wasn't one to lie, or lie well enough to fool a Leaguer.
"A knife. Holding a weapon calms me down." Robin revealed sadly. "I-I still have it."
"Where." Nightwing didn't ask, he demanded, eyes narrowed on the fidgety mercenary.
Robin drew a quick breath as his stomach dropped, he was such an idiot. "No, please! I-I need it, I-I cant..." He swallowed down the sob rising to escape him, even though hot tears were already freely falling down his face. He recoiled from the heroes and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his ankles and burying his face in his knees. He was such an idiot to trust the heroes.
"Can't what?" Canary asked, raising an arm in front of Nightwing who began to stand up, planning to search the boy.
Robin only cried for a few minutes, not trusting his voice. Canary let him get it all out and made Nightwing sit back down. She mentally scolded the vigilante. Like Miss Martian said, Robin was fragile, he didn't need to be roughed up. Not in this state.
"Robin?" Canary asked once the boy's cries had died down.
He flinched and drew several deep breaths. "I-I can't... I can't sleep without a weapon... p-please, I-I need it."
"Why? Why do you need a weapon to sleep?" Canary asked, she had heard people needing odd things before, but a weapon was new.
Robin shook his head, simultaneously whipping his face on his knees and burying it more.
"Robin, did Slade make yo-"
"NO!" Robin cried out, snapping his head up, "no... h-he didn't."
"He is lying." Miss Martian said sadly, her brows furrowed as she read his thoughts.
"NO. No no! you don't understand the context! I needed that! If h-he hadn't helped me... I'd be... I'd be..." Robin hiccuped and sobbed, no longer caring that he was breaking down in front of the heroes. "I want to go home."
"Robin, Robin it's alright. Besides a weapon, what calms you down?" Canary asked, starting to reach out to the boy before thinking twice and staying still.
"S-Slade... he knows... I want to go home... please?"
"Robin we can't do that, you need to calm down."
Robin looked up, unbridled fear and tears streaming from his face. He whispered to himself, shaking his head as his mind went a million miles per hour, "No... no no nonono..." He scrambled to his feet and jumped out of the chair, heading to the door of the room.
"Miss Martian!" Nightwing shouted.
M'gann jumped into action and twisted around, rising a hand as her eyes glowed green. Robin crumpled to the floor with a thump.
Canary came over and picked the boy up, he hadn't even made it to the door.
"He is unstable," Canary said, looking down sadly at the limp boy in her arms. "Whether he knows it or not, Deathstroke has him good."
"How do we help him?" M'gann asked, "He is afraid of us."
"I'll contact Batman, he needs to be here," Nightwing said, raising a hand to his ear comms.
"I don't know M'gann, he will get better with time, but right now he needs sleep." Black Canary said. She walked over to the chair and laid the boy down in it. Even when he slept he looked anxious, his muscles were tight and his face was contorted in fear.
Canary and M'gann stood there for a moment, observing, when Nightwing came up next to them.
"Batman is on his way. If he really does have a weapon, we need to know where it is." He gave the martian a side glance. "Miss Martian?"
M'gann grabbed her own fingers, looking down at the mercenary before her. "I-I don't think that's a good idea, he is unstable enough as it is."
Robin jerked up with a scream, startling the three heroes in front of him.
The boy scrambled away, fear rolling off of him in waves. He didn't head for the exit this time, he hunkered down in the corner of the room, crying and curling up on himself.
The three heroes stood quietly for a moment in shock.
"So that's why he can't sleep without a weapon," M'gann said softly, staring at the huddled form of the 13 year old boy sobbing uncontrollably. His thoughts were being screamed at her, there were so many so fast she couldn't focus or read any of them. All she could do was listen to his tortured mind.
"Not again... Not again... Not again..." The child hugged himself and pressed himself further into the corner.
The three heroes finally tore their gaze away from the boy when the door to the room opened and the Dark Knight entered.
Batman quickly took stock of the situation. "I thought you said he was knocked out." He growled out as he stepped closer to the ailing boy.
"He was, earlier he told us he couldn't sleep without a weapon in hand, he woke up moments ago and hasn't said anything cohesive. Deathstroke has him practically by the throat, Stockholm syndrome." Nightwing reported, folding his arms next to his mentor and father.
"If we give him a weapon now, he's going to use it. We are his enemy." Batman said, looking down at the young mercenary.
"He says he has one, when we asked where he started panicking," Nightwing said.
"It's not with him, it's in his room," Batman said. "He wouldn't risk keeping it on his person."
"...What do we do?" M'gann asked, getting increasingly worried and uncomfortable for the boy breaking down in the corner.
"I'll worry about that. You can return to the team." Batman said gruffly.
Black Canary took her leave too, gently pulling the young martian with her. Soon it was just Batman and Nightwing observing the boy.
"There's more," Nightwing started, but then was cut off by the Dark Knight.
"You can report later, is there any information relevant that I should know now?"
"He has a phobia for large rooms, and he's afraid of heroes and people in general," Nightwing replied stiffly.
"Alright, thank you, you are dismissed."
Nightwing watched a moment more before turning to leave, leaving Batman alone with the terrified boy.
Batman studied the boy's position. Fetal, protecting vital organs, afraid to be hit. His head was buried in his arms atop his knees, body shaking with sobs and unchecked air regulation. Batman recognized this position, but given who the boy was, he wasn't sure he could get him out of his panicked state.
"Renegade," Batman said, stepping closer and lowering himself to crouch in front of the frightened boy.
The boy scrambled back as far as he could, which wasn't much, and lowered his head even more.
"Renegade you're alright. You're in the Young Justice headquarters, in the library. Just me and you." Batman continued, softening his voice so the boy wouldn't think him a threat.
"T-th-they're gonna c-come b-back, th-they're gonna t-take me!" The boy sobbed into his arms.
"No one is taking you anywhere," Batman assured, although unsure of who Renegade was talking about.
"P-please! I-I don't wanna go!" Robin begged, his head rising just enough for Batman to see his red face and tear-stained cheeks.
"It's going to be ok Renegade, I won't let anything happen to you."
The boy exploded from the corner and hugged onto Batman, fresh tears streaming down his face. Batman was startled for a moment but he hugged back, there was definitely something wrong.
"I-I'm so scared Slade..." the ebony haired boy hiccuped into the vigilante's chest.
Batman froze.
Renegade thought he was...
"Renegade... I'm not Slade." Batman said slowly.
Robin froze, eyes widening as pure fear enveloped his body. A scream ripped from the boy's throat, he began to wiggle and kick at the vigilante. His attempts had no effect, but he relentlessly struggled to get out of the arms of the vigilante, grunting as he screamed.
"NO! NOOOO! SLADE! HELP! NO! PLEASE!" The young acrobat cried out, fear driving out all logic as desperation settled in.
Batman tightened his arms around the boy, making sure he couldn't scramble away. The man sat back so Renegade couldn't escape, unaffected by the boy's struggling. Robin sobbed, eventually falling limp as he ran out of energy and his attempts to flee were in vain.
"Renegade I'm not going to hurt you. Slade isn't here. It's ok that Slade isn't here, you're alright, you're not in trouble." Batman said, he relaxed slightly but tightened his grip again when the boy tried to bolt. Robin cried, weak and fearful, mind too numb with terror to fully ingest what Batman was saying.
"Renegade. Here is what is going to happen." Batman started and the boy tried to shift under the vigilante's steel grip to no avail. "I'm going to trust you with the knife, you can keep it."
Robin let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, going completely limp in the Dark Knight's arms. He felt numb all over, his mind was going to fast for him to comprehend. He was so scared. Caught in the arms of the enemy, while his mind replayed vicious memories, unable to help himself. And the only man he trusted was nowhere in sight and wouldn't ever be again.
"IF, you promise to not hurt anyone with it, including yourself." Batman finished.
The ebony haired boy shuddered and slowly he placed his arms back around the man.
"...O-okay... o-okay..." Robin muffled into Batman's chest. Slade wasn't here, but Batman was.
Batman slowly released the boy enough so he wasn't being crushed but didn't let go. "You're alright." He repeated, moving a gloved hand along the boy's gently shaking back. "You're alright."
Robin curled up on Batman, tightening his own grip on the vigilante and finally regulated his breathing so he wasn't hyperventilating. He stayed there, hiccuping every now and then and whipping away itchy tears. Batman moved his hand up to the boy's head, beginning to slightly rock to and fro.
When Robin eventually stopped crying Batman looked down at the mat of ebony hair he was met with. "I'm going to let go now, are you going to run?"
Robin shook his head, releasing his grip around the man as the grip around him released. He sat up and then sat back, sitting on the ground numbly while he regained feeling in his limbs. He didn't meet Batman's gaze but could feel the man's eyes burning into him.
"I understand you're homesick," Batman stated, and Robin nearly started crying again. Instead, he bit his lip and swallowed down the tears, he had to be stronger than this.
"And I'll trust you with the knife, if you can trust me. You aren't here for us to beat up, our goal is not to hurt you. We want you to be safe and live the life you want to live, outside of being a mercenary." Batman continued.
Renegade took a few deep breaths before answering, his face felt so hot and the cold air was really startling after being squished against Batman. "O-okay..." his voice was groggy and sickly. No surprise there really, considering how much he had cried in the past hour or so.
"Will you look at me?" Batman asked, his voice still uncharacteristically soft.
The mat of ebony hair lifted, red-faced and still teary-eyed, but Renegade locked eyes with the man. "I-I don't follow orders because I have to, I follow orders because I trust the man giving them."
"I'll keep that in mind," Batman said, allowing a small smile to rise in his features.
Renegade scoffed, lowering his head again as a smile rose on his face too.
"What? I can't smile?" Batman asked, his tone lightening, an odd experience for the boy who had only known to fear the vigilante.
The young mercenary rubbed his face, trying to get the smile off unsuccessfully. "You remind me of Slade." He mumbled. "Wasn't much of a hugger, but was when it counted."
Batman stayed silent for a moment, unsure if he should be grateful for the parallel or concerned. "I know this is going to be hard for you, but would you at least give us a chance?"
Renegade sighed, looking up once more, making a sad smirk known. "Sure thing Boss. Just... don't get mad at Baywatch."
Batman frowned and grew curious. "What did he do?"
"Welllll... he lied for me, honestly the first thing ever done for me here. He understood how important to me the knife was, he didn't sell me out, which I thought he would." Robin explained.
"Kid Flash huh?" Batman mused, thinking.
"Yep." The young Mercenary looked down at his hands, confused now as to what to do. Did he just go back out? What was he supposed to do during the day?
"He and I will definitely have words," Batman said gruffly, then changed the subject. "You think you're ready to go?"
Renegade perked up and gave him a lopsided smile. "With a knife? I can do anything."
Batman frowned at him.
"I didn't say every situation needed a knife." Robin rolled his eyes.
Banter, banter was good. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
YO MAH PEEPS HEEELLOOOOOO
hehe, anyone think this chapter was a little heart wrenching?
Anyone think Dick's got Stockholm syndrome?
Sorry for the delay, I said I'd do two chapters consecutively, but this chapter needed quite a bit of tweaking and it took longer than I thought.
So to compensate, this chapter is mildly larger than the last one.
7111 words!
Again my updating schedule won't be very reliable cuz school (and I got sick today so homeeewoorrrkkkkkk)
See ya'll around mah peeps!