Blood Ties

Chapter 22 -Revelations Part 2-

... Hi

Yeah, I know, it's been more than a year this time. Unfortunately, this chapter has been fighting me the entire time and my motivation for hurt/no comfort is shotty at best. Despite the motivation problems, this chapter is VERY IMPORTANT and EXTREMELY SAD.

Again, hurt no comfort. Bad things happen this chapter and they only get worse.

People die in this chapter. Many people die. Descriptions of death and murder happen in this chapter. Obviously, this is by design, it's important to the plot and all that. This is your character death and descriptions of murder warning.

Rest assured tho, the team does not die.

Brush up on last chapter if you'd like, keep in mind the title of the chapter is Revelations. This is the title of an actual episode in the series, like how some fics do Homefront, I'm doing Revelations. It's the episode set in the swamp with the Injustice League. In the episode the team has to destroy the Venom-laced Ivy-grown plant antenna while the rest of the JL fight Venom-laced Ivy-grown attacks all over the world, the antenna destroys them all, once that's done the team has to stall for time because they're no match for the Injustice League (who has quite a few heavy hitters the team doesn't have) and Kaldur uses the helmet of Dr. Fate to deal with everything.

I'm this chapter all of that is the same except Dick comes in late, and Kaldur doesn't get the chance to use Dr. Fate.

While the entire chapter is pretty sad the end isn't that bad, a little hint here and a little hint there. The next chapter picks up where this one leaves off, so still bad, but it slowly gets better. You'll see.

That being said, this chapter is 15,848 words of Dick spiraling and people getting murdered. I had a lot of fun making Dick lose it and I hope you enjoy!

Dick really should have planned this better. Sure he was in Gotham, sure he needed the Batcave, sure he knew Bruce Wayne was Batman. But he overlooked one majorly minor detail. Where exactly was the Batcave?

He realized this problem as he stepped up to the Manor, because while he had visited Gotham with Batman and was in the Batcave before, he never actually got the location of the Batcave. From what details he could remember it really was a cave, so it couldn't be IN the giant Wayne mansion. Under it maybe, but not a room in it. Besides, that would be terrible for ID protection, no one should be able to simply walk in.

Speaking of simply walking in, the front door wouldn't open for him. Bruce wouldn't be home and neither would any of his adult vigilante kids. (Did they even still live here? It's definitely big enough.) No one was going to let him in so he would have to bust in. He'd apologize later when his friends weren't throwing themselves into a death trap.

Dick made use of a window, using a rather large rock from the driveway gravel to weaken the Batman-sanctioned windows.

The glass kinda hurt, it was ignorable, especially with much more important things happening. Like how much time his friends had left. They could be dead right now. Or they could still be alive. Yeah, yeah no they were still alive, it was a long way to Louisiana, they're fine. For now. Dick just had to catch up before villains do what villains do.

Well now he was in, he didn't stop to brush off the glass or anything. The room he was in was some type of foyer or waiting room. Dick wasn't going to wait.

He made it out of the room, everything about the inside of the house (that he had seen so far) was large and mildly confusing. Dread curled up like a snake inside his gut, ready to strike.

This house was too big.

How on earth was he supposed to find the Batcave in time?

Between his urgency and his lack of knowledge, his body felt on fire with anxiety and adrenaline. Even with his easy access to the house, the time was still ticking, he had to find where the Batcave was and fast. His friends were tough, they were heroes, but the Injustice League was going to kill them. Why do heroes always have to go headfirst into deadly situations? Dick hadn't really cared that the team was actually a bunch of stupidly heroic teenagers until now.

With literally no other plan, Dick took to running its halls, peering into different rooms that all looked the same before dashing off.

With every room he looked into his stomach dropped, he didn't even know the purpose of half of these rooms and the Batcave wouldn't just be sitting there. It didn't matter how fast he was searching, he still had no idea what he was searching for. His friends were running out of time, the thought weighed on him like a bag of bricks on his chest.

He came to a fork in the hallway and took a left, the first room he greeted was a giant ballroom. Knowing it was a horrible idea, (because hello big) he chose to push right through it. He booked it across the empty room, danger prickling along his skin like nails on a chalkboard. His feet pushed him faster like some unseen demon was chasing him, heart rate spiking as white edged his vision. Coming out of the big empty room, he slammed into a wall, breathing heavily as panic ran rampant in his veins.

He didn't give himself time to calm down and started running the halls again. He needed to find the heart of Wayne manor, some part of him said. The fou- cave would be there. His goal. His everything. The center of the maze.

That thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Dick was at a new crossroads in a hallway, identical to the one before. It was a maze. A labyrinth.

Dick panted, eyes wide and refusing to blink. He could hear his heart thumping in his ears as loud as a drum and he swiveled around, checking his six. Both he and his heart jumped as he saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He only calmed slightly when he found it was just his reflection in the small pieces of some ornate object on a decorative shelf. Nothing was actually there. Dick was fine.

Something dark flashed to his left and Dick flinched, breath catching in his throat when the dark mahogany hallway turned white for a fraction of a second. His heart thundered when he looked down, the deep red rugs splattered with blood.

Dick clutched his head, gasping in short spurts of air that weren't enough. His sight turned blurry, not feeling the tears collecting and overflowing, diving deeper into a panic.

Find the center. Find the center. Things would make sense once he drank from the fountain. Had he drunk any water yet? No... no, he hadn't.

No! No the water was bad! Don't drink the water!

It made it easier to... to hide. To obey. To kill.

Dicks eyes went wild, flicking around like a crazed bird.

E-everything was white, everything was danger. Every corner would be hiding a Talon to test him, to kill him. His fingers dug into his scalp, body trembling with short useless breaths. NO! He couldn't- he couldn't let them win again! His friends! His friends, they needed him! They were going to die if he didn't get his crap together right now!

He scratched at his eyes, getting rid of the blur, only to see a dark maroon figure to his left.

Dick screamed and lunged with a powerful kick, driving his heel into his enemy. Dick landed in a crouch and spun around, ready to attack again as his target thumped to the grou-

CRASH

Dick jumped like he'd been electrocuted, the sound jarring him into the real world.

He blinked uncomprehendingly down at the broken vase.

He had knocked it and it's dark wooden pedestal over, the fancy vase completely shattered at his feet. The walls weren't white, this was no labyrinth. The maroon he'd seen was the pedestal the vase had been sitting on. He was in Wayne Manor, a house belonging to a hero. He was safe.

"If you desire a training dummy, young Master Richard, we have plenty in the basement."

He jolted at the voice, staring up at the ceiling as if it belonged to a ghost. But that was stupid, and so was the fact the voice was calming. He had never heard this voice before, it couldn't be from his head and that was reliving. He hadn't drunk the fountain water. There was no fountain here. This wasn't the labyrinth. He was safe.

He looked down at the vase, suddenly sheepish. He just broke something that belonged to Bruce, to Batman. Also, there was that whole um... breakdown thing he just went through, but he was going to ignore that.

"S-sorry, I-I'll uh... I'll clean that up later," Dick promised the disembodied voice. He rubbed his face more gently this time, taking in the deep calming breaths Slade had him practice for moments like these. Usually, the breathing exercises were to combat the actual attack but it worked just fine claiming him down after too. He sighed into his hands, hating himself for breaking down when he should be helping his friends. He was getting nowhere with all this panic. He needed actual progress here.

He decided to go out on a limb because he had no more ideas and he really wanted that voice to not be in his head. He'd rather all of this not be an elaborate illusion. He also didn't want to be alone.

The young acrobat looked up, unsure of where exactly to look. "Hey uh, mister, I really need to find the Batcave, my friend's lives depend on it."

"Very well, I will direct you to the study-"

The voice did just that. Dick was guided through the not-white maze by the British man ("Alfred Pennyworth at your service young master.") on the intercom system, where a bookish office was the destination. Dick was given the time passcode and Dick felt like he was in a spy movie as the great grandfather clock opened up. Dick wasn't quite recovered, but he was no longer a shaking driveling panicked mess. It would have to do, he couldn't waste any more time on his own problems.

The elevator was pretty cool, it was rather large but it kinda made sense. He stayed leaning against the corner with his arms folded, trying to feign calmness so his brain and body would get the memo. When the elevator finally came to a stop at the bottom Dick was greeted by the Batcave.

It was surprisingly bright, though he wasn't sure why he was surprised. It was also extremely cool. He saw so many gizmos and just stuff that looked like it would kick arse.

Dick didn't have time to get distracted by cool gadgets.

His antsy-ness returned, turning an analytical eye on every nook and cranny of equipment he could see. Just looking at all of it, He knew he wouldn't be able to find his suit in all of this. If it was even here. But he found the explosives easily enough.

It was a giant weapons rack, some of the slots were empty and Dick could imagine it was stuff like batarangs or grappling hooks. Taking one of those wasn't a bad idea. But what really caught his interest was the shelf dedicated to explosives. Some looked like honest to goodness cartoon bombs straight out of Tom and Jerry. Some were a lot smaller and had minuscule variations in style. Taking one of the tiny bombs off the shelf and giving it more scrutiny, Dick came to the conclusion they had to be custom made or something. He got the distinct impression all these similar-looking bombs did wildly different things and the different designs of each section of tiny bombs were the tells of which bomb did what. Only he didn't know those tells were, although he did recognize the smoke pellets, flash bombs, and more simple things like that. He took a few of each, trying not to feel guilty because he wasn't supposed to have a fully stocked belt.

It was rather easy actually, his friends needed him and he needed these bombs to help his friends. Simple. Past infractions about weaponry between him and Batman were a moot point at the moment. Dick just needed this to work once.

Regardless, filling his belt felt both amazing and scary. He wasn't supposed to have this, if he was caught he'd be punished (cold and isolated- wait no Batman would do that would he? Maybe, it would be safer for everyone else if he did and Batman was nothing if not effective), but he was going to be locked up at the end of this anyway so what did it matter?

Then he found the Batarang bombs and he couldn't help but grin. He took one off the shelf, inspecting the disk that would fly magnificently and with edges sharp enough to wedge itself into any surface if thrown hard enough.

"Oh, you'll do perfectly," Dick told the explosive disk and promptly shoved the whole shelf into his belt. He looked over to find some normal batarangs and took a few of those just for precaution.

He had spied the 'garage' part of the cave from the elevator, now that he was done stocking up he spun around only to meet a clothed human body face first.

Dick was surprised he didn't stab them on instinct.

A pair of thin hands landed on his shoulders and pushed him back and upright. Dick was then greeted by someone who undoubtedly had to be Alfred, he was much too British.

Dick looked at him, seeing Wintergreen. Alfred looked down at him, Dick was sure he was seeing a child on the verge of losing their mind.

Odd how that particular situation hasn't changed since changing hands from Slade to Batman.

"Ah, Master Richard, I do hope you've found everything you need alright?" Alfred spoke, and yeah, he was totally British intercom guy. He was also standing oddly poised like some sort of butler.

Dick took a step back, taking a deeper breath to calm his nerves that were still screaming. He looked down at the batarangs, frowning. The young mercenary looked up, only to find the connection to this man and Wintergreen only grew stronger. He was old like Wintergreen and Slade were, though he was also oldER. He looked much more frail compared to the old guys Dick knew, but he didn't look weak exactly. He could probably throw down if he wanted, but he was much more... disarming. Dick wasn't sure why he was thrown by the similarities, but he felt thrown.

As the silence stretched Alfred raised a perfectly British eyebrow. "I do hope you will be returning those when you're done, young sir."

It took way too long for the sentence to process.

"Oh," Returning the batagrangs was the least he could do, he was stealing them after all. It also reminded him once he saved his friends (he was going to save them. He couldn't return empty handed. They can't be dead.) he would return to be a permanent and forever prisoner and he was okay with that. He was too dangerous, but right now that was the point. His friends knew he was dangerous, time to fight for them for once instead of against them.

"Sorry," Dick shook his head, his creeping sense of dread returning once again to remind him time was of the essence. "I'll return the batarangs, but I really should get going, my friends really need me right now."

The kind butler nodded, then inclined his head to the plethora of bat-themed vehicles. "If you're in such a hurry, might I suggest a method of travel not confined to the ground?"

Dick followed his nod, narrowing in on the vehicle that looked like a plane or jet. Bat-jet, bat-plane, whatever.

He couldn't help but grin, all of his options looked really cool. He turned to the butler, head tilting and an odd nostalgic feeling in his gut. "How do you know I know how to fly one of those?" Or even need one of those, Bayou Bartholomew isn't exactly a quick power walk from Gotham.

"I seem to recall you being in a hurry, all the planes here have an autopilot feature. Simply put in the coordinates of your destination and you will not have to worry about much else."

Dick nodded along, that was actually really nice. Alfred was nice.

"Thanks," He gave the man a grin, surprising himself with how genuine it was. He wanted to do more to thank him, but the panic writhing under his skin was coming back with a vengeance. "It's a long way to Louisiana." He quipped as he dashed off to the nearest bat-jet, missing any response the butler might have for him.

"If I'm lucky they're still on their way and aren't dead yet. That would be nice." He muttered to himself as he climbed into the cockpit, feeling small because this vehicle was clearly custom made for someone as big as Batman and not a tiny mercenary like himself.

The jet itself wasn't actually that big, which was great, speed was key right now. The controls seemed to be similar enough to the ones Dick had studied (yes Slade had him study flight controls for many types of aircraft) but it was just easier to hack. He didn't have his holo-glove but that was fine, he didn't technically need it.

He flipped the engine on, feeling the machine rumble pleasantly beneath him. If he weren't in such a time crunch Dick might be impressed, if they all survived this Dick might have to take it for a spin. That thought made him grin, then it faded.

That's assuming he wasn't locked up after this... He was technically stealing, or was it okay if the butler pointed it out to him? Though he doubted the butler was in charge of such things, Batman would probably not be happy either way. He did hand Nightwing's butt to him and left the Mountain and filled his belt and stole his bat-plane and just did basically everything Batman told him not to do (short of killing- well actually his little jaunt wasn't over yet and Dick wasn't sure he could promise the safety of any villain who wanted his friends dead, not with what was coursing through his veins right now). Dick decided he didn't care anymore. He was expecting to be locked away anyway, it wouldn't change the outcome much. Besides, being locked up is safest for everyone.

The glass cover lowered down over him, sealing him into the airtight plane. He saluted the butler who still stood by the weapons rack and gave him a wary but thankful smile. He did in fact put in the coordinates for Louisiana, though sitting back and doing nothing felt like a terrible idea. He laid his hands on the flight stick anyway, letting the autopilot guide him and nervously looked for some sort of runway, only finding a long tarmac right into a waterfall. He couldn't help but snort, Batman was so dramatic.

Alfred must have pressed some button or maybe there was a motion sensor because the waterfall began to split from the top, opening the runway up into the dark crisp air of October.

The joystick pushed itself into the direction of the runway, then felt his breath leave his body as the vehicle blasted off like it was a rocket. Dick found himself grinning again, the entire machine rumbled around him and it shook him like he was jello. Inertia asserted itself onto him, forcing his body back into the seat even though Dick really wanted to lean up to take a look outside. He settled for just moving his eyes.

The cool grays and blues of the cave were gone in seconds, the setting sun bathing the sky in orange overpowered his eyes and made him squint. The black bat-plane pierced through the air like an arrow, cutting through the burnt light.

Dick was on a mission. For once not given to him by a superior, whether it was his Grandmaster or Slade or Batman. The only other time Dick had his own mission like this it ended with his temporary freedom from the court and a dead Matthew. Dick was determined to learn from his mistake. This time Dick would succeed. This time no one would die. This time Dick was going to save his friends instead of himself.

Dick had never acted like a hero before, but it was more terrifying to imagine doing anything else. As the sun set lower and lower Dick said goodbye to the selfish orange that leached the other colors from the world. Dick embraced the deep blues and the protecting shadows of the dark night.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Dick could see it from miles away. He was sure it would actually be very hard to see on the ground level but when there's a giant vine tree sticking way out of the ground in a swamp where the trees don't grow past 10 feet it's kinda hard to miss. He landed behind it, banking around after seeing evidence of a fight in the front. He saw the abandoned bioship in the murky drink, and his heart thumped harder in his chest.

He slid down a wet hill he landed on and climbed up the crest to the building. The building itself was pretty huge too, but Dick was packed with bombs and desperation. It was easy to get above ground level, using his new handy dandy bat-issued grapple gun. The plant was exploding itself out of the roof and wasn't that just fantastic for Dick.

He threw as many bombs as possible all around the plant antenna, but saved quite a few for the base because blowing up the antenna was great and all but it would just grow back like nothing happened if he didn't get its roots.

Scouring the roof Dick looked for an opening between the glass and the plant, he was delighted to find one just big enough for him. Scaling down was harder than he thought though, the vines were slippery and he couldn't use anything to impale the vine lest he incur the wrath of Poison Ivy and alert everyone to his presence. No, surprise was on his side and he was going to use it.

He shimmied down the plant trunk, keeping a firm grip on the various knobs and vines that made for convenient hand and footholds. Glancing down, Dick didn't find any guards, but Atomic Skull was at the base of the plant. The villain was busy transferring his atomic energy into the plant, Ivy was a bit farther away, tending to the giant roots.

Dick stayed still and quiet to see what they'd do and how to separate them to take them down. Atomic Skull would be easy, Ivy... Dick didn't want to hurt Ivy, maybe he could talk her down.

Dick's head snapped up when a noise from outside caught the two villain's attention. It sounded like the other villains, but it also sounded like a fight.

Ivy nodded to Atomic Skull, entrusting him to stay and guard while she left to investigate.

Atomic Skull was alone.

It was almost too easy, sneaking around the trunk to place himself above the villain. He let go and dropped down on the man, landing on his shoulders and placing his hands on the villain's head and jaw. Before the injustice league member could call for help or even fight back Dick yanked his arms in opposite directions, there was a snap and then the body fell.

Dick rolled to his feet, pausing to glance at the broken body he left behind.

Uh, whoops. He might not have meant to do that.

It's fine, shake it off, he's fine. Atomic Skull was a bad guy anyway, and more importantly, Ivy hadn't heard the scuffle.

Good.

Dick got to work placing his bombs, the disks sinking into the flesh-like plant. He had five minutes max to get out before they blew automatically, or he could detonate them at any time.

He ran around quietly, throwing the bombs to the farther roots just to be sure. He didn't want any of this to survive. It's what his friends were here for, he wasn't going to let them stay in danger even if he was able to get them away from the Injustice League.

"How dare you!" Ivy shouted behind him.

The ground rumbled and Dick jumped as the ground beneath him exploded with vines.

He danced away, taking out a few of the smoke bombs and a batarang before settling into a fighting stance. Ivy was an enemy.

Ivy had her hand outstretched to him, vines at the ready. She faltered, however, when she recognized the tiny assassin in front of her.

"Wait, Dick?" She slowly lowered her arm, the vines shifting away from the teen like a receding pool of water.

Dick let himself relax slightly, maybe he didn't have to fight her. "Hia Ivy."

The villainess's face was twisted in confusion and rage, "What are you doing here?" Interestingly, she seemed more upset that he was here than anything else. "I didn't think Deathstroke was coming."

"I'm saving my friends," He said instead, as if that perfectly explained everything.

Ivy's brow narrowed as concern flashed across her face, fists clenching at her sides. "Where is Deathstroke, Renegade." She asked dangerously, a familiar cut throat cold seeping into her words. He got the feeling her ice wasn't indented for him, but for Deathstroke.

Dick stayed silent.

His throat stayed closed by itself, feeling hot and swollen with emotions he wasn't ready to deal with.

He wasn't sure what was going to come out if he spoke about Deathstroke. However, his sight got blurry and he hastily blinked the tears away. He would not be compromised, not now when he's so close to saving his friends.

He couldn't save Deathstroke. He couldn't fight Them. But he was going to save his friends. He could.

The silence spoke for itself, and Ivy caught on quick.

The green woman's eyes widened in shock at the implication of the silence to such a question, noticing the way his eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I'm saving my friends Ivy." He forced out, this time softer but with no less conviction. "I don't want to kill you, but if you stand in my way I will."

Ivy frowned, still a little confused, "Friends...?"

He could see how she worked over the situation and the exact moment she realized it. She was surprised, jabbing a thumb behind her to where he assumed his friends would be fighting the rest of the Injustice League.

"The little heroes?"

She didn't sound upset.

"Yes. They're mine." Nobody was going to touch what was his.

"This is where you've been? Playing with the heroes?" Ivy asked, but it didn't sound patronizing, she almost sounded relieved.

Dick didn't have time for whatever Poison Ivy was feeling, his friends were beyond her, trapped probably. Wotan and Black Adam alone would have made quick work of them, if they aren't already dead.

"They're my friends Ivy. I'm not going to lose them even if they are stupid self sacrificing idiots." He gave Ivy a knowing smile, through it never touched his eyes, "besides, I thought you weren't into murdering kids."

Ivy's eyes narrowed again, seeing the obvious manipulation. A calculating look overtook her features. Her gaze flicked to behind him, seeing his network of bombs scattered on her towering vine. She contemplated for a few seconds, seconds Dick might have lunged at her for if he had any less of a grasp on his self control. He didn't want to hurt her.

She must hate him now, by attacking her vines he was labeling himself as an enemy, a hero against villain. Dick was sad, because he didn't want to fight Ivy, she had been so nice to him.

Instead of the rage he was expecting, something shifted in her eyes, something soft yet cunning. Settling on something that showed her kindness while keeping herself and her motives secretive. Much like the Ivy he'd seen deal with other villains. Except usually without the softness.

"Alright Dick," she spoke gently, yet stronger, again like she was talking more with an equal but with a more understanding lilt to her voice. She placed a hand on her hip, a purely Ivy move that almost made him smile, "You care an awful lot about these teen heroes don't you?"

Dick's chin lifted, smiling a little because while the words were taunting they were not malicious. She was almost teasing him, amused by the fact Dick had such friends, but not entirely surprised. Ivy approved of his friends. Ivy would not hurt them. Ivy wouldn't stop Dick from saving them.

"I do." He nodded, some restless energy shuffled his footing.

Ivy glanced down at his feet, smiling almost smugly at him, like she was proud of something. He'd be worried about that look if it wasn't exactly the same as her Mom Look^TM.

The green woman dipped her head to him as well, taking a step to the side. "I will not stop you. But I won't help you either, it would be suspicious."

Dick was struck with a bit of heartache at the deceleration, for this was a Poison Ivy who put his needs in front of her own. He could count on one hand how many adults did that for him, and she was one of them. Why did he think he needed to fight her at all when she would so readily step aside for him? He understood she wouldn't be helping him, but she wouldn't hinder him, and that was just as good as helping him in his line of work.

"Just make sure you come out okay as well greenbean." She said, softest he'd ever heard her speak.

It drew a genuine smile on his face, glad to have her silent support. But knowing what was ahead, he could not make that promise.

"Thank you." He dipped his head in sincerity, actually taking his eyes off of her for the first time. She wasn't a threat to him.

Ivy was displeased by his lack of promise but she let him be, walking past Dick to the back door. "And you're right, hurting children isn't what I signed up for anyway. But Dick?"

He twisted to fully face her for a moment.

"I'm glad you made friends."

Dick ducked his head and blushed, a terrible time for embarrassment, as the woman disappeared into the shadows and out of the building.

Now freed from the burden of possibly fighting a mother figure and shaking off the embarrassment, Dick's anxiety urged him to move on. His friends weren't going to be alive much longer if he kept stalling.

He ran to the front doors, bursting from the building and finding a collection of villains touching down in a particularly swampy area a bit farther down the hill. Wotan was projecting a golden cage filled with familiar bodies, Count Vertigo standing atop it like an overdramatic (and worse) rendition of Darth Vader. Black Adam was below it, seemingly carrying the cage itself.

He ticked off his mental checklist of villains.

Poison Ivy had left, check.

Atomic Skull was dead, check.

Joker was unaccounted for, no check.

Wotan, Count Vertigo and Black Adam were here in front of him, once they were dead or gone he could check them off.

Mallah was unaccounted for, no check.

Fine. That was better than taking them all on at once, but it would ruin the surprise for the missing two.

Now for the plan.

Wotan first. Free his friends from the cage. Black Adam would be the next biggest hitter he'd have to take down, uh, somehow. Wasn't he a century's old god dude? Whatever, there were very few beings that could survive a severed head. This would work. Mallah would be next maybe if he showed up. Count Vertigo would be annoying but Dick shouldn't hog all the fun, his friends could handle him easily enough.

The trio of villains didn't see him exit the building, however unless he could fly it would be impossible to sneak up on them with all the mud and water around. That's okay, Dick wanted to make an entrance anyway.

He approached almost leisurely, splashing loudly on purpose and all three villains turned to look at him. He also saw Wally mouth his name, sitting upright despite his wounds to stare at his friend that last time he had seen, had been mind controlled to kill them. The other members of the team perked up as well, faces in varying stages of worry and pain.

Dick ignored the team and kept his sight on the first target. He also ignored his aching heart, the chance of losing any of them was too high.

"Wotan." He called. Calmly approaching the group of villains that held his friends hostage.

All three had resting B faces, none were ever happy to see him during their little meetings and Dick could safely say he felt the same. Not that he expected them to like him, they were just a different breed of villain. He suspected they didn't like a lot of things unless it was general destruction and mayhem. He'd love to see Black Adam take up knitting though.

"Renegade." Wotan frowned, voice practically dripping in annoyance. "I seem to recall Deathstroke sent you to kill these whelps. Should I be surprised we have to do it for you?"

That... that wasn't the mission Deathstroke sent him on. That was never the mission.

Except for the two occasions his body got hijacked, both ending in a fight against the team. (Technically one was his night terror response but same difference) Twice is not an accident. Not when it comes to fighting his friends against his will.

His anger swelled against Slade, while his heart hurt more. Slade wouldn't have done this. He wouldn't have tricked Dick into being compromised for the sole purpose of destroying the team. They've had so many conversations of Slade trying to convince him he wasn't a weapon, Slade wouldn't just turn around and use him like one now.

Would he?

Had he?

Dick pushed it all down into a nice little box to pick apart later, but the other reason his gut felt like a led weight was because he could feel the team watching. They heard what Wotan said, it wouldn't be hard for them to connect the dots either. Even if he was tricked, they might hate him now.

Rage flickered up again inside him, bitter and sweet. Just a tool for someone else's game of chess. Nothing had changed from Them to Slade.

But the team... the team was different. The team had been on the business end of his blade twice now and still opted to semi-trust him. They were friends. Despite most of the forced interactions and how exactly they all ended up meeting, with Slade gone and tainted, they were his only support left. They... they were his friends, they were heroes. They would never use him like Slade might have, and they wouldn't die because Dick refused to make the same mistake twice. He had trusted Slade could protect himself from Them, the team wasn't even fighting Them and Dick had to step in. However, Dick was not the only one who wanted to keep the team alive. Where it was just Slade and Dick, it would be Dick and the entire Justice League protecting the team. Dick just had to follow his plan.

However, with Wotan outing his failed assigned 'mission' (whether Dick knew about it or not), all of those promises and plans wouldn't stop his friends from thinking he was not only a killer but a liar too. Dick was going to cry if they asked if their relationships were real. They were real to Dick, and that was enough to make him risk it all.

Dick could only imagine what they would feel once they found out who and what he really was.

He let none of his thoughts show, face as still as stone until he regarded Wotan and his words. He placed his hands on his hips, letting a smile split his face. "I was? Huh, nobody told me that. I'll get right on it, chief."

Wotan's eyes glowed with rage and he growled. Wotan lunged and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him to face height.

Dick felt excited, grabbing onto the magician's hand that was strangling him, still smiling.

"Well I'm pretty sure this isn't how you're supposed to talk to people shorter than you." He grunted out with a grin.

"Careful Renegade." Wotan hissed, "I am not your precious master, I won't tolerate your snark." The magician tilted his head, regarding the slightly suffocating boy like he was a lost puppy he planned on kicking. "Why are you here anyway? Deathstroke got himself into quite a bit of trouble on your behalf, why waste it away here when it would be all too easy to eradicate you like the gnat you are?"

What?

Slade got in trouble for him?

The sense of fondness at the news came and went like a fart; relief, and then a horrible lingering smell.

Wotan made it sound like Dick ruined something Slade did to help him. Wotan also said Slade had set up all of the times Dick nearly killed the team.

It was confusing and Dick hated it. He hated Slade. He hated Wotan. And he could only do one thing about it.

Wotan scoffed at his silence and then Dick was tossed to the ground. Dick landed roughly on his side, grunting with the force of impact. Wotan had turned back around, done with his little interruption.

Dick got to his knees and then to his feet. This was probably Wotan's version of mercy, or he was just ignoring him for the sake of their mission. He wasn't going to let Wotan write him off so soon. He would regret calling him a gnat. Dick was anything but a gnat, he was a weapon, bred and forged for a single purpose. He was a Ta-

"Well this is awkward," Dick made a show of brushing himself off, a sick smirk stuck to his face. "'Cuz I'm actually here to save them. They're my friends ya see? And you're not. So I suggest you let them go and get as far away as possible because if you hurt any of them, there won't be a crevice in time and space where I won't find you and make your immortal life H*ll."

The silence was deafening, Dick was sure he could hear a pin drop. He refused to back down, eyes glowering at Wotan, daring him to confront him.

Wally was shaking his head desperately, eyes wide and trying to telegraph to Dick to back down and get the heck out of dodge after that kind of threat to an immortal magician.

Dick felt something like relief at the sight. Wally still cared about him even if Dick was a danger to him and everyone else. Even after it was exposed that Dick had been sent there to kill them. The rest of the team were on his side from what he could tell, shocked and scared, scared for him.

He wanted to tell them it was okay. He would make it out okay. He was here to make sure they made it out. Dick could take care of himself.

"Oh?" Wotan's voice was tilted, edged with dangerous amusement. "And what would a child mercenary know of time and space? What could someone like you possibly do to someone like me?"

Dick's grin became wolfish, what a wonderful challenge. He was excited to see the horrified surprise on the magician's face as this 'child' turned out to be one of the most horrific monsters of all.

"I'm glad you asked." He started, "you've never met someone like me, if you had, you'd be dead. Immortal magician or not. You haven't been made like I was, molded and changed by someone else to fit a perfect criteria. You may be immortal, but they've had centuries to perfect their mold, and here I stand. The perfect weapon that kills perfectly."

Wotan began to chuckle, deep and dangerous, glowing an ever brighter and sinister gold. "No wonder Deathstroke keeps you around, your pride is amusing. It makes the fall ever more bitter sweet, I look forward to tasting your defeat. You're on a dead man's mission, twice over."

Thrice over, technically. Or would it be four? Eh, who's counting anyway?

Dick's smile tugged wider, feeling something wild flicker in his chest. Something locked away, excited and dangerous. "Well, you're right about that, almost."

Dick had never been more aware of his audience. He had cared about people's reaction before, with Slade and Wintergreen. This time he wasn't sure if he wanted the team to stick around after the truth dropped like they did, or shun him like he feared. But perhaps he could beat around the bush a little longer. Or maybe just beat the dead bush with a dead man, that would be amusing.

"I'm what they send when they want a dead man's mission completed." He took a step forward, "dead men can't be killed again, can they? The perfect weapon that kills perfectly-

"I don't think you understand," Wotan interrupted, no longer amused. "You are a child with the delusion that being labeled dead to the world means you're unstoppable, but not even Deathstroke was-"

"No, I understand perfectly." Dick snapped, taking another threatening step forward. "Kill me Wotan." He snarled, throwing his arms wide. "Kill me right here right now. Kill me and see how long you last against a dead man on a mission. Those are my friends you're planning on killing, they are my mission and you're in my way."

Dick was faintly aware of the loss of sensation in his body. He could feel the cold crawling into his soul. He couldn't make himself care, pouring every inch of rage he had in his body into these words. They would not be the last thing Wotan would witness from him, he found himself excited at the thought.

"Even an immortal like you has a weakness," Dick felt a cackle slip loose, some morbid humor over his own damnation making an appearance. "It's simply a matter of losing your head. Imagine," he continued, sensing a rebuttal but refusing the interference. Dick wasn't done yet. "A state of being where you can't die, yet are in a constant state of death."

Something loosened in his chest, something freeing. Something released. Something taking the weight of control from him.

"Sounds fun doesn't it?" He asked, smiling again, mirthful eyes wide and cold. "Why don't I demonstrate?"

With speed unmatched by anyone besides Kid Flash, Dick dashed forwards, a batarang in each hand and murder in his eye.

Wotan was quick, hands configuring some spell that blasted towards him. The red beam hit Dick square in the chest, pushing him back against the ground.

Dick grunted with the force of the blast, the magic felt entrapping, yet as he crouched there being 'pummeled' it felt nothing more than a gentle force pushing on his chest. It was laughably easy to get up, smiling as he got to his feet. The red beam of deadly destructive magic felt almost ticklish on his chest.

"Impossible!" Wotan seethed, eyes narrowing. The 'mere boy' that should have been burnt to ashes was walking towards him, like his magic wasn't even there.

"The perfect weapon kills perfectly." Dick repeated darkly, never losing the cruel smirk as he walked through the magic that did nothing to him. A golden sigil burned on his chest, he knew the lines it was making, it was impossible to forget watching them slice through his skin, the chanting and the burning. He remembered how much he screamed.

The magic avoided his warded body, because one of the perks of being drafted into an age old cult is perfect protection against magic. He never thought he'd be grateful for it.

"I am the dead man on a mission." He declared, because he was. "You will die, finding out why. Then you will die again. You will remember every time you draw your last breath, every time you spring back into the world of the living, why you don't mess with a dead man's mission."

Wotan might have responded, the magician looked outraged that his magic wasn't working, but Dick might have seen a bit of fear in his eyes. Good. Tiny little puppets should know their place. Wotan was a pawn just as much as anyone else, and pawns were the first ones to die.

Now only a few steps away from Wotan, Dick paused, staring straight up at the man who thought himself more powerful than Fate. It was kind of funny, Count Vertigo and Black Adam just watched like everyone else. He almost wished they didn't, Dick was itching for a fight, itching for blood and broken life.

"Wotan." Dick declared softly, "You are in my way. The sentence for such a crime is death."

Wotan's eyes widened in either surprise or fear. Dick needed a closer look.

He launched himself up and perched on the man's shoulders. Wotan stumbled back but it was too late, Dick's hands were firmly latched onto the target's head.

Staring into Wotan's black and red eyes, he identified the emotion to be pure fear.

Pleasure curled in his gut, his smile pulling at his cheeks.

His hands started applying pressure to the target's head, his smile turning into a vengeful grimace as the feeling of life thrumming under his hands was offensive. Break it. Kill it. Destroy what he could not have.

Someone sounding like Wally was yelling at him, begging him to stop, to wait. He could not. There would be no waiting. He was efficient. He was effective. That's why he had been deployed.

The target was a threat to his friends. He did not need their forgiveness, he needed them safe. He would do what they could not. He was a Ta-

No. No no no NO!

He wasn't, he shouldn't, Wally was right, he couldn't-

Wotan's face was stuck in horror, it blurred as tears invaded his sight.

He was no longer smiling, his chest hurt, his throat hurt. He was screaming. The moist Louisiana air on his tongue tasted like puke and frogs.

He was screaming and he couldn't stop. He was grasping for control he knew he couldn't win, he wanted so desperately for it all to stop. He couldn't move himself, his mind was free but his body was locked in a state of murder.

He was screaming at himself. A war on two fronts was easily lost and Dick was helplessly drowning.

He couldn't stop now. Not when he was so close to finishing his mission. How dare he hesitate because of some random emotion, an obstacle he couldn't fight and kill.

The resistance was fading, arms shaking and numbness returning. It was relaxing, comforting almost.

He couldn't stop himself, he wasn't going to stop.

What wonderful news.

His eyes moved, moving up and over to find the redheaded blur among the dark Louisiana background. He focused on the dark orange blob in his watery vision. He couldn't see his face, he didn't want to, but he hoped he understood.

I'm sorry.

Then Dick let go.

Time snapped back into place, his friends still yelling his name while he wrenched his hands in opposite directions.

The screaming was silenced as the man toppled with him still perched on his shoulders. His sight was blurry for some reason, but it was quickly resolved by some rapid blinking. Dick stared down at the frozen face of terror on his target with disinterest and instead cocked his head to the side in contemplation. He reached up to his own face, his fingers leaving wet and salty. What an odd body function.

He stayed there for a moment, rebooting. His first target was eliminated. What was the next target?

"You killed him!" A female voice rang out. Artemis, his brain supplied. She was in distress.

Dick's mouth spoke without thought.

"He's immortal." He said as he stood up, finding his friends no longer in a cage. That was good, that was progress. He turned and kicked the body's shoulder, just to be sure he wouldn't move again. "He's down, but not out." He reported in case that was what was worrying her.

It was a problem to leave a target down and not out, but for now it wasn't and there were still a few more active and more immediately important targets.

When he looked up at his friends he stalled, confused by their states of distress.

The green skinned one, Miss Martian, seemed to be doing that odd bodily function, crying with her hands over her mouth and horror in her eyes. The fish, Aqualad, had an arm across her shoulders and he was slightly putting his weight on her. He must be wounded then, that was not ideal but it should be fine as long as he wasn't wounded further.

The large black shirt one, Superboy, looked stiff, eyes wide and body tight. He looked ready to fight and that was probably a good thing. Superboy would be hard to kill, if he recalled correctly he had rather thick skin. Or was it skull? He remembered something about Superboy having a thick skull. He had his giant white wolf named Wolf with him. He liked the name, it was simple and said exactly what it meant. Wolf would fight with Superboy, he was a good wolf.

The female who had spoken earlier, Artemis, had panic written all over her. She was both angry and afraid of him. He stared at her a little extra, trying to find out why she would be afraid of him. He concluded she had no reason to worry, Dick had no interest in harming his friends so she should not panic.

Wally, he didn't have to stretch to remember the name, looked stricken. Dick frowned, he didn't like that look on his friend. He wasn't sure what was upsetting him, but he looked troubled to the point of pain. He must be wounded somewhere too, that must be it.

Dick ignored the odd way his gut sank, it felt like it was a response to Wally in particular but he wasn't sure why.

Wally's face suddenly blanched and he shouted, "Dick look out!" He took a step forward but it was too late.

Something black and gold slammed into him, the gold lightning bolt symbol was easy enough to remember as the enemy. Dick growled and grappled with the evil champion of magic in the air.

Dick wasn't suited for fighting in the air, but he found he didn't care. He had a target in his grasp and he wasn't going to let it go until it was killed.

He kicked and punched and even bit the man at one point. Nothing he did was effective, things that would have pulverized many men in the same amount of time were useless. He felt like he was fighting with one hand tied behind his back. No, he threw out that idea, Dick still totally could have fought well with only one hand. Something else was hampering his effectiveness.

Black Adam was magic, magic didn't affect him like it did most people. Then again, Black Adam wasn't attacking him with any spells. Black Adam's returning blows made instant bruises and blood, unlike Dick's own attacks.

Dick needed to change tactics, the perfect weapon kills perfectly, he must adapt to overcome his opponent no matter the cost. He kicked and wrenched himself out of Black Adams's grip. Black Adam growled at him and grabbed at him again, this time only grabbing his shirt.

"You are annoying." Black Adam snarled. Dick couldn't help but smirk.

"Hey that was a pretty big word, big guy," he smiled with bloodied teeth, "did your villain buddies help you sound it out?"

Black Adam's eyes glowed with rage and he threw his head into Dick's, the super headbut sending Dick free falling to the ground.

That wasn't very fun, his head throbbed oddly but it wasn't anything he couldn't walk off in a few minutes. He awaited the arrival of the ground but Black Adam followed him down and grabbed his shirt once more.

"I'd like to see you try to sound anything out once I'm done with you." The big man growled, fist pulled back.

Dick only smiled, as long as he got Black Adam to the ground this was fine.

"Oh I wouldn't worry," he baited, "teeth are optional anyway. You should know, wouldn't you?" He then gestured to his mouth and teeth, "dentures are a thing."

Would that joke even land? How old is Black Adam and when were dentures invented? Or was the guy literally too old to make fun of?

He wanted to laugh but Black Adam drove his fist into Dick's stomach, sending him hurtling to the ground at an angle. Dick couldn't breathe, he was sure he was supposed to throw up with that kind of hit but all he felt was immense pressure in his gut. His organs were ripped, he knew that much. If the punch had been any more powerful it would have ripped right through him.

Though even if it had, it would have been of little consequence to him, such a wound would only delay him a minute or so.

He hit a few trees on the way down, his limbs snapped and bones broke just like the trees he fell through. The water was a bit softer to land in but it wasn't very deep, he rolled along, tumbling heel over head until he finally stopped with a great big thump against a thick tree.

Dick groaned and fell into the water, glad he rolled a little so he was face up. It would have sucked to survive all of that just to drown in a puddle of gross swamp water.

If he wasn't already soaked by his tumble, he definitely was now, the taste of iron in his mouth was somewhat preferable compared to the muddy water. The numbness was still there, but he could still tell what was broken and what wasn't.

Lungs pierced, femur broken, ribs broken, arms dislocated and shredded. All manner of broken bones and body problems, even his head felt cracked open like an egg.

He watched as Black Adam was promptly tackled out of the sky by an enraged Superboy. Someone yelled his name, it might have been M'gann. A distressed orange blurr raced toward him.

A giggle erupted from his chest, trickling through his broken ribs and up out of his throat.

Along with everything else that broke, so did something in his soul. Something dangerous slipped out, something he should have been afraid of, something that wasn't supposed to happen.

Now it was loose, and he couldn't tell why it was bad.

Wally slid to a stop right in front of him, pausing just a few feet away, frozen by either fear or horror he didn't know. He had come to help. Dick didn't need help.

He twitched, tendons jerking as they were pulled and shifted back together. Bones slid back into place, straightening out and replacing shards that were spat out through his currently open wounds.

He rose on unsteady feet, lifting his shoulders up and back, a full laugh reverberating around his now whole chest.

He laughed because it was funny. Because they thought breaking a few bones would do anything besides slow him down for a few seconds.

He had since lost his batarangs, he didn't need them.

Golden eyes flicked up, meeting Wally's wild green gaze for a moment before moving on to the remaining targets on the top of the hill. With another jarring crack his femur snapped into place.

He sighed, glad to be whole once more. Wally was staring.

"You see." He took three steps forward, not sure who he was talking to because he was not addressing Wally. Wally was his. These words were not meant for his friend. But his targets were too far away to hear him, and they were preoccupied by his friends starting to fight them.

He didn't have his claws but that didn't stop him from curling his fingers dangerously. "I think. You're a little out of your league."

His gilded gaze slid over to the still frozen Wally, a more genuine smirk cracking his cold features as he dipped his head to his friend in acknowledgement. Dick would not be a danger to his friends, but the others? Well.

"I'd wish you good luck," he huffed to the villains who couldn't hear him. "but luck doesn't exist for the damned. The perfect weapon kills perfectly."

Quick as a snake, Dick darted forward.

Superboy was indeed going toe to toe with Black Adam. Mallah was suddenly accounted for and Aqualad had the very bad idea to go into hand to hand combat with the super-brained super-monkey. He saw evidence of a mental battle between Psimon and Miss Martian, occasionally one of them would be blasted backwards but neither seemed to be able to get a foothold over the other. For now at least. With Wally down here with him, it left Artemis dealing with Count Vertigo alone.

Well that won't do.

Dick would love to help Aqualad with his monkey problems, but Artemis was closer and seemed to be in more distress, she was locked in the man's Sonic beam, she sank slowly into the water, bow dropped and clutching her head.

Dick was quick though. He was made to be.

He didn't bother with stealth, though it was one of his main skills, it would only delay the inevitable and any delays here might cause his friends injury. No. No delays.

He ran straight at the Count, easily gaining his attention. Good. The man's fierce gaze locked onto him, with his gaze came the overwhelming pressure of his sonic abilities.

Dick was slowed, the pain existed, but so did the healing. He was slowed to a walk, but he pushed forward. He glowered with his golden eyes, not breaking the man's eye contact as his eardrums burst. The pain was sharp and it was uncomfortable to feel his blood seeping out of his ears, but comparatively, it was nothing.

He remained unfazed, ears bloody and walking almost calmly up to the man.

Count Vertigo took a step back, now frightened by the unrelenting teenager unbothered by how he was drenched in his own blood. The man twisted his cane up, preparing for hand to hand and it was exactly the invitation Dick was looking for.

He dashed forward, latching onto the cane and grappling with the Count. He snarled in his face, keeping his focus on his face because the man was clearly distracted by it. He wrenched the cane out of the Count's hands, twirling around to sweep the Count's feet out from under him, then plunged the cane down into his heart.

It was no decapitation, but he doubted his friends would prefer that. They just needed to be safe and one less threat was one less threat.

Artemis was being helped up by Wally, both staring at him still. Artemis was holding her head, but her eyes went wide at the sight of Dick over the dead man's body, still holding the cane in place.

"That's the second one you've killed tonight!" She shouted, like the midst of battle was a completely reasonable time to be upset. "You can't just go around killing people Dick! That's not what heroes do!

He simply smiled and shook his head. "Lucky for you, I'm not subscribed to your ideals and morals, because you'd definitely be dead by now."

Her anger faltered after having gotten a good look at his face, she weakly pointed at what he assumed to be his eyes, "your... are you okay? Your eyes- your ears- Is this- is this another puppet situation?"

Dick snorted, feeling weird at her apparent concern and ingenuity. He was kind of surprised she noticed, or even made that connection. "I'm not going to hold myself back when my friends need my help."

"Hold yourself back-?"

Dick was keenly aware his other friends were still struggling, so with Artemis out of the way he moved on. Mallah had just tossed Aqualad into a tree and Dick had several healed bones that reminded him what it felt like. He was also very aware of the fact nobody here could heal like him. If his friends get hit too hard, they're dead.

So he abandoned the Count's body, leaving behind a quietly freaking out Artemis and an ever watchful Wally. He felt like he should be concerned the speedster had yet to open his mouth, however it slipped under his radar with the low thrum of concern he had for his friends.

Mallah's hulking form landed heavily in front of him, splashing him with mud water and barely giving him any time to react as two heavy ape arms came down to crush him. Dick was disappointed, Mallah was supposed to be smarter than this.

Dick easily sidestepped the attack, launching his own barrage of attacks on the giant ape's exposed side. Each hit landed stronger than the last, a roundhouse kick to the gut sent the ape flying backwards into the water.

Aqualad stumbled to his feet, having lost one of his water bearers. He made brief eye contact with his teammates and plunged his remaining water bearer into the drink. Wally and Artemis vacated the merky drink, Dick only stalked forwards his target.

"Dick-" the Atlantian started, confused and worried because he had thought his nod was received, he thought the younger mercenary had understood his nonverbal message, the next plan of attack was obvious yet Dick stuck around where he wasn't supposed to be.

Dick was not supposed to be in a lot of places wasn't he.

Too late, Mallah was back up and lunged forward with a guttural roar. Dick redirected his attack, shifting the large ape's weight in the wrong direction and let his bigger body pull him down back into the mud. But instead of twisting around to attack him, he lunged forward again, straight for Kaldur.

No.

Dick snarled as he chased the ape, wondering why he thought he'd keep Mallah's attention when there was a weaker, more obvious target.

Aqualad, to his credit, didn't back down, lowering himself into a ready stance. Dick would rather him not.

Mallah was once again arms up and ready to smash, but Dick jumped into the air and smashed into him first. He tumbled to the ground with Mallah, the beast roared in outrage and tried swiping him off his back.

Dick was clinging to his back, he shifted to his shoulders, tugging the apes weight around to keep him off balance. He swung up and latched his legs around his neck, sitting upright and raised his own arms with his fists curled. Down, his hands went, descending on the ape's head with all the force he could muster.

Which for him, was a fair amount. For a Talon.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Crack.

Dick's hands were wet now, wet without the help of the Louisiana bayou.

Mallah fell face first into the water, blood pouring from his head into the water.

Aqualad's eyes were wide and locked onto the dead ape. His shocked gaze switched to Dick, but Dick paid him no mind. There were still a few targets left.

"Miss M!" He called loudly, lifting one hand into the air with his thumb positioned over the red button.

He honestly forgot it's existence, but it was one of the objectives so he couldn't truly forget.

His call was a warning, the recognizable object an explanation. The blinking Christmas lights behind their fighting twinkled in response.

The Martian was still busy in her fight with Psimon, but she seemed to understand. She twisted their fight around, Psimon's back towards the makeshift greenhouse while she started to fly backwards and avoided brain blasts sent her way.

Aqualad and the others walked up to stand next to him, Superboy and Wolf still fighting Black Adam somewhere else.

Martians were susceptible to fire, but so would anyone else if they were this close to an explosion.

Dick pressed the trigger.

"Timber."

The discount Christmas tree blew up.

He'd almost call it beautiful the way the plant exploded outwards, it's spine waved and shook before toppling over. Psimon definitely got caught in the blast, the debris easily overtook him. Miss Martian flew towards them quickly, landing haphazardly near them but getting to her feet quick enough.

Debris rained down around them, charred sticks and chunks of building plunking into muddy water like off brand marshmallows into hot chocolate. They were safe enough this far away, but the explosion was large and loud and he was sure it would have caught anyone's attention who was around.

Two targets left.

He turned his focus to the next obvious target. Superboy was doing a good job handling black Adam, but Dick couldn't get hurt doing it-

"Dick."

His gilded gaze slipped to his friend. Anxious emerald eyes met his own, the redhead was frowning, face creased with worry and fear.

"That's enough." The speedster spoke quietly, or maybe it was quiet compared to the fighting and explosion. Dick blinked at him, the rest of the team looked at him similarly. "You don't have to do this anymore. You got the antenna, we just need to wait for the Justice League now."

Dick nodded. Yes. That was part of the plan. Wait for the Justice League.

The rubble shifted behind his friends. There was a flash of pale whitish skin and his ears zeroed in on the faint sound of a beating heart. Still alive.

Four sharp sticks, levitating in the air above his friends. Aimed at their hearts.

As fast as he could, Dick crouched down to grab his own sharp stick, thanks to the debris it was rather easy to find one. He twirled around with a snarl and threw the stick like a javelin. It arched in the air and sunk into flesh, a garbled cry burbled up from the impaled villain.

The sticks aimed at his friends fell, returning to the drink in which they came, splashing around them.

His friends looked surprised once more, and now there was something burning on his shoulder.

He looked down, finding the black camouflaged suit of his speedster friend.

"Dick." He said again, eyes pleading this time. "Come back."

A tremor of fear traveled down his spine. There was something familiar about the line, something cold and terrifying.

He didn't understand that emotion, so he pushed it away, letting something he did understand take its place.

He was sad, disappointed maybe. Of course his friends didn't want this. They were heroes, they didn't want him. The real him. The one he fought so hard to hide purely because he knew they'd think he was a monster.

"I'm sorry." He spoke, feeling the need to look away ashamed, but he had to keep eye contact, he owed them that much. "This isn't what you wanted. This isn't what I wanted. But this... this is what I am."

He took a step back, out from under the speedster's hand, guilt coiling in his gut. They didn't want him.

But he wanted them.

So he would continue to protect them. The tether was still there, he was holding on tight and he wasn't about to let go. The mission wasn't over yet. Just because they didn't want him didn't mean the mission was null. It was strange, he was used to getting orders and missions from somewhere else, it was both terrifying and relieving that it came from himself for once. Nobody could tell him to stop or go but him. And he couldn't stop, not yet. There were still two targets left.

Wally looked at him, so many emotions caught on his face that Dick couldn't figure out which one was winning. His arm was still reaching out, as if trying to pull him back in.

Superboy cried out from somewhere behind him, followed by a booming thud where the kryptonian was slammed into the ground.

Dick whirled around, abandoning his safe friends to finally get rid of the last present threat. Joker was still missing, but he'd turn up eventually and Dick could take care of him then.

"Dick wait-!" His friends called behind him but Dick was on a mission. The mission. The only one that mattered.

The mission he chose for himself.

"Black Adam!" He shouted, catching the champion's attention where he prepared to punch Superboy further into the ground.

Dick approached, but didn't lunge. He wanted to talk, if only for a moment.

The evil champion's interest peaked, he floated over, staying high in the air to appear more intimidating. Dick was familiar with the tactic. It was a fun one to use.

Black Adam was just as aware that his magic wouldn't work on Dick than Dick was. Brute strength vs brute strength. Healing factor vs immortality.

"You can't kill me." Black Adam sneered, relishing in an assured victory.

Dick bowed his head once in a single nod. "And you can't kill me. We are at an impasse."

"I will tear you limb from limb!" Black Adam snarled. This was also true. And effective. Growing back limbs took a considerable longer time than anything else. And... well, Dick wasn't sure he could even do that.

"You could." Dick shrugged. "But the Justice League are on their way. And you're the only one here. I wonder how well you would do fighting against me and the entire Justice League."

Black Adam faltered then, his permanent scowl twitched into something uneasy before it returned. "Then I'll make this quick."

"No." Dick said with another shrug. "I'll just give you a dose of what I gave Wotan. You won't die, you'll just linger for a bit, and when you wake up you'll have the Justice League ready to greet you with their bright smiling faces." He smiled as an example, but it looked more wolfish and predatory than happy. "Or you could leave. Ivy did. So could you. What do you care about a giant murder tree distraction for the Justice League anyway?"

Black Adam blinked at him.

Dick smiled innocently. "Oh sorry, was that too complicated?"

Black Adam's snarl turned feral and he lunged from the sky.

Dick huffed as his smile turned cruel. "Good. That was getting boring."

Dick jumped out of the way, dancing around the new crater that was filling with muddy water. Black Adam stood up and turned to find him again but Dick was faster.

He launched a kick at the man's face, the champion's head snapped back with a crack. While the champion fell he returned, twisting around the larger man's body until he leveraged the brute above his head and slammed him into the ground. The dazed champion was immobile for a second too long. Dick straddled his chest and with his two hands on the man's head he made good on his promise.

His hands twisted and the immortal's neck snapped.

He wouldn't die. Just stuck for a while. He wondered if he went to the same place Dick did.

Dick slowly extracted himself from the site, staring down at the body. That was the last present target. Joker must have left when he saw all his pals getting killed, there was no one left for Dick to fight.

His friends stood in front of him, staring. The bayou was silent except for the quiet crackling of the small fires from the explosion.

He had no purpose now. Mission over.

He took a breath, feeling like he inhaled for the first time in a while. He felt shaken and nervous. Cold fear grabbed his soul. With no mission or threat to drive his actions, he just stood there. Just enough consciousness trickled back in to make him realize he'd been in this situation before. He'd made this mistake before.

He'd... he had killed before, in this state. He's had a mission from himself before. It landed him on the streets. It killed Matthew.

No... no not again!

"I'm not..." Dick started, his words failed him and he couldn't help the panic that rose with it. His own silence meant them in control, they only ever wanted silence from their pets.

But he'd been able to talk before. When everything went horribly wrong. When his mission was to escape by any means necessary. By any deaths necessary.

He took a shaky step back from his friends, as if that could protect them, "I'm not going to hurt you."

He wouldn't.

Not when they were his mission. Quite the opposite in fact, but they he seemed to need the reassurance.

Wally stepped forward, because of course it was Wally. "It's alright. Uh, we can fix this. We can just wait, remember? We wait for the Justice League, they're gonna help." He was being careful, arms out like he was talking to a spooked animal.

Dick remembered. He looked up at the smoky sky, knowing it would probably be the last time he got the chance. It would stink, being locked up, but it would keep everyone safe.

He didn't want to kill anyone.

"Dick?" Wally asked gently, sliding a little closer again, reaching yet hesitating to touch him. "Are you in control right now? You gotta give me a sign here buddy."

Dick looked back down at Wally, taking in the desperate attempt of his friend to tame the monster. Dick... wasn't really in control. But it was still him. It had always been him.

They might have called him something else, but it was still Dick who was inside. They locked him up inside his own head when they used him, Slade alwaysed used that to argue it wasn't his fault. Maybe he had a point there, but this was the second time Dick was 'awake' along with Them. The first time didn't end so well. He didn't want that to happen again. He couldn't allow it, he couldn't ruin another thing that was his only joy in life.

"I-" Dick opened his mouth to attempt to answer.

A gunshot rang out through the bayou.

Dick only had to shift slightly to look around Wally to find the source, fear threading his every nerve.

The gun was pointed at Wally, his tired and wounded friend, and Dick couldn't-

He lunged, yanking his friend back to put himself in front of the bullet.

He heard the screams of his friends. They called out his name.

He felt the bullet bury itself in his skull. He felt his body tumble to the ground. He saw the look of absolute horror on Wally's face as he pleaded with him to not die. He was crying, his tears falling onto Dick's face, his trembling hands held onto Dick like if he held on hard enough he would stay.

Dick weakly grinned.

He was leaving now. It was bad. There was still a target left. But he couldn't stay anymore.

The familiar embrace of death pulled at him and he was helpless to stop it. He sunk into the cold. Into the unfeeling. Into the place when feared and dreaded with every ounce of his being. Yet he surrendered. It was all he could do.

He was dead.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Someone was clapping.

Someone was laughing.

"Bravo! What a show!" There was a smile in that voice, wide and malicious.

The Joker stepped into the team's line of sight. The sway of his gait made his hideous purple coat shift, showing the dark form of a weapon at his side.

A gun.

"You killed him!" Superboy roared.

He lunged forward with all the rage of the sun behind him. The Joker's smile glinted with a flash of green. Instead of hitting his target, Superboy was slammed into the ground, groaning.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Joker pouted, finger on his chin as he mocked the down kryptonian. "You really didn't think I'd have some kryptonite on me?"

He crouched down to pat the super on the head, ignoring the hiss the younger gave at the chunk of glowing green rock resting on his back.

Wally didn't know what to do. Things were moving too fast. He was a speedster, he was supposed to be fast, but this was just... it was...

Dick's cold body was still in his arms.

Artemis had her bow at the ready, Wolf was growling fiercely where they laid useless in the water, the beast seemed to be one second away from pouncing despite being down for the count. Similarly, M'gann was enraged. Her eyes were red, not their normal green, arms outstretched and face contorted in rage. There were tear tracks running down her face. Wally knew his face was the exact same.

"You have five seconds to release him and surrender yourself before I make you." M'gann called out rather sinisterly.

Wally had never seen M'gann so enraged before, but some part of him was impressed she still had the self control to give him a choice. He killed Dick.

He was still trying to process.

The Joker giggled, and in one smooth motion pulled out his gun again, this time resting it against Conner's back, right where the kryptonite rested.

Wally froze. Another friend in danger, another bullet ready to be buried in someone he cares about. Something he couldn't stop. Kid Flash was fast, but not fast enough for a point blank bullet.

"Oh no, I want to spend some time here little miss." The Joker's grin stretched further, "your mind tricks won't work on the dead."

Aqualad and Artemis exchanged glances.

Artemis lowered her stance, string brushing against her cheek. "Step away from Superboy or she'll brainblast you."

It wasn't a suggestion.

"Oh oh oh oh," The Joker chuckled, "no I think I've got that covered. Isn't that right Talon?"

Wally felt numb, the cold of the wet Louisiana ground sticking to his legs and the weight of his dead friend in his arms. He still felt numb when his friend's eyes opened.

"Dick." He breathed, actually feeling his chest expand in some time.

"Rise and shine Gray Son of Gotham." Joker sing-songed.

All eyes gravitated to the corpse.

Dick's eyes were open. They were yellow, like how they've been yellow ever since he attacked Wotan. This time there was no light inside. His skin was... was turning black. Well no, his skin was actually becoming more pale, more white, more dead, but underneath webs of black crawled into his veins, around his eyes and cheeks. It grew right before his eyes, turning Dick's pale pallor into something much sicker and more zombie-like.

All of that, and his eyes opened of their own accord.

Wally still couldn't feel a pulse. His body as cold as ice.

It didn't make any sense.

Wally grabbed his friend's shoulder, looking deeper, trying to understand what was happening. "Dick? Dick are you- you're alive?"

Dick's yellow eyes were still hollow, staring blankly up past Wally and into some nothingness.

Wally's heart clenched, already ripped and broken, struggling to beat once more.

"Gray Son. At attention now, your Grandmaster will be quite pleased with your return." The Joker made his voice slightly deeper, as serious as a tone the mad man could make.

Wally shouted in alarm when he was suddenly flipped over onto his side. He scrambled up, arms deep in the mud. Dick was gone. Dick was moving. Dick was dead.

His corpse was standing there at attention, just like he was told, facing the Joker with the same hollow yellow stare.

Aqualad stepped forward, placing a hand on the frozen boy's shoulder and putting himself in front of the corpse. He searched his face, taking in the glazed look at the black veins drawn into his skin, but he saw a familiar nothing. Except this seemed deeper. With the two times Dick had gone off the rails, the first time he was sleeping, he had facial expressions. Number two, his eyes could still convey his emotions even though his control was gone. This seemed... complete. There was nothing controlling, it just was.

"M'gann, snap him out of it." Aqualad shouted, stepping away but not looking away from his friend.

Miss Martian floated in front of the boy, placing her hands on his temples. Her eyes remained red, they narrowed in concentration but then-

"I can't!" She cried out, fresh tears falling down well worn tracks. "There's- there's nobody inside! It's, he's- he's dead." She choked.

"Gray Son." Joker crooned from behind. "Grandmaster is pleased with your work here today. We have just a few loose ends to tie up. Knock out the green witch."

M'gann yelped as Dick suddenly moved, grabbing her arms before thrusting his head into her's. She landed with a splash into the drink. Wally's heart finally registered in his ears, and it was pounding.

Dick had killed all those villains. Dick had done it to protect them. Now Dick was dead, and Joker could tell him to kill any of them at any time. Dick wouldn't hesitate.

"Good Talon!" Joker praised, with the exact inflection one would praise a puppy.

Artemis was breathing heavily now, her aim switched to Dick for a moment before returning it to the Joker. "Whatever mind control you have over him, release him now!" She was panicking, seeing the same pattern he was, but having no clue how to fix it.

They couldn't fight Dick, not because they physically couldn't, but because he really had been holding back this entire time. They were no match for him unleashed, the immortal, god level villains were taken out first, quickly.

Dick could kill them. That's what Dick had been afraid of this entire time.

His hands were shaking, he stumbled to his feet but he couldn't make himself move in any one direction. Things were going horribly, horribly wrong.

Joker only laughed more.

"My dear," he drawled, his sick red smile on full display. "Don't you see? This is his natural state, he loves doing what he's told."

With that, a few things occurred to Wally.

Dick blew up the antenna. The Justice League was coming.

Joker wasn't going for killing blows. Yet.

All they had to do was stall.

Just stall and then Batman and Superman and Uncle Barry would show up and they could fix everything, then this night could be over, he could have his friend back.

Wally's mouth opened.

"Gray son. Turn around."

His stomach rolled as Dick did indeed turn around to face him.

The last time Wally had tried that, Dick was angry, Dick hadn't listened to him because 'I only follow orders of people I trust.'

Laughter rang out behind his zombie friend. The Joker was having a blast over something and Wally's stomach wasn't keen on finding out what.

"Oh you are quick!" He was surprised, but not concerned. He was excited. "Let's see it then. Go on, try!"

He waited eagerly, ginning like the madman he was. Wally glanced at Kaldur and Artemis, well aware that this might be their only chance. Superboy was out, M'gann was out. They needed Dick. They needed his... power or whatever it was that was making him unable to properly die. He needed him back, even as a shambling corpse. The Justice League could fix him. They could!

Wally had one shot at this, he needed to wedge it in before the Joker did anything else. Joker somehow had all the cards, and this was the only play Wally could think of.

"Don't listen to The Joker, Gray Son." Wally demanded, taking a step forward.

Wally locked eyes with his friend, begging him not to listen. Please work. Come back.

"Oh Taaaaalloonn!" Joker called.

Air caught in his throat and he took another desperate step towards his friend. "Please, Dick, Gray Son, don't listen to him!" He pleaded once more.

Those glazed yellow eyes didn't even blink.

"You know how this works. They don't. You know what to do." It was a simple line, yet it was all Joker had to say.

Dick was looking at Wally as he nodded his head.

Wally's entire spirit deflated and fluttered. It wasn't working. It wasn't working!

"Good Talon." Joker praised again. "Knock out the archer."

"No!" Wally shouted, but Dick was already moving.

The acrobat swiftly turned to Artemis and jumped at her, to her credit she was able to lose an arrow in his direction. However he just continued, slamming his foot into the archer's head and stood above her unconscious form. The arrow embedded into his thigh.

Aqualad came at him with a water mace, aiming for their friend's head. Knocking him out worked twice before, it should work this time.

Dick didn't even move out of the way. He grabbed the larger boy's arm and yanked it down, lifting his knee to expertly meet the Atlantian's face.

Kaldur fell unmoving as well. And suddenly it was only Wally, Dick, and the Joker.

His breathing stuttered, body ablaze with adrenaline and fear. His mind was going a million miles per second, yet nothing crossed his mind.

What could he do? There had to be another way, some loophole- something!

"Oh splendid! Wonderful show Talon." Joker stood up, gun still trained on Conner, but he wasn't worried about a thing now. It was just Wally. Wally wasn't enough.

"As much as I'd love to continue this demonstration, I believe we have somewhere to be." Joker sounded sad, but not in any way that counted. "I'm sure you must be eager to claim your reward from the Grandmaster. You've done so well."

No. No Dick couldn't leave. Wally couldn't let Joker leave with Dick. He took another halting step forward. There was nothing he could do. The gun was still on Conner, he could order Dick to kill any of them at any time if Wally did something rash.

"I'll give you this, speedster," Joker said, tilting his head as if he was being overly generous. "For playing this long you get a prize!"

Wally swallowed his dry throat, all the horrible scenarios jumping through his head at what the Joker could possibly have in store for him.

"You get to say goodbye." The madman grinned.

His eyes widened, frozen in place.

From the likes of Joker, that could mean anything.

At the pause, the Joker scowled, "Well I'm not waiting all night! Go on! Say goodbye!"

Oh. He meant literally. Of course he did.

Wally couldn't say goodbye.

Wally made himself move forward, stumbling to his friend. He looped his arms around Dick's frozen body, hugging him tight. "Fight him Dick. Whatever this is, you can get out of it. I know you can. You never wanted to hurt any of us. You're not a villain. You're not a monster. You're my friend."

He hugged the corpse of his friend, shivering with panic and tears and pain deeper than any wound. He tried giving his warmth to the frozen body he held, wanting nothing more than for Dick to hug back, or cry, or do anything except be whatever this was, but it was useless.

"Talon," he heard Joker say. "Knock the speedster unconscious."

And that was it.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Ivy stopped, she was tired, her babies were screaming, but her hand rose and vines shot out of the ground anyway. A new threat appeared disheveled in front of her. In fact he looked terrible, but that wasn't going to make her let down her guard. It was Deathstroke after all.

She kept her tone light, but dangerous, and covered up her surprise at seeing the man alive. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you'd show up. With the little one around you're always close to follow."

The mercenary was leaning heavily against a tree, slumped really. When he spoke it was quietly, with both fear and hope. "Dick is here?"

Ivy's face scrunched in confusion. "You've been to our meetings, you know what's happening here today."

"Dick isn't supposed to be here." Deathstroke said instead, not quite angry but... worried? Is that right?

Ivy openly stared, because she wasn't sure what to make of the mercenary in front of her.

"He's here for his friends, the little heroes." Ivy felt compelled to explain, because Dick did have a valid reason for being here, unlike Deathstroke, whom many believed to be dead. He betrayed their employers, they wouldn't just let him go with what he knows.

"The heroes?" Deathstroke seemed a little confused, but pleased nonetheless. "Good. That's... good."

Then why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?

"Dick is under the impression you are dead." She stated coldly, remembering Dick's reaction to the question of his mentor's whereabouts. She did not think Dick lied to her, he was too emotional for that, but it was to no surprise that Slade would.

Deathstroke took a harrowing breath, leaning more heavily on the tree. "I didn't give him a reason to think I was alive."

Ivy narrowed her eyes, body language aside, this was a more familiar Deathstroke. The cunning one, the manipulator. The one who apparently ruined everything for himself for a child that wasn't even his.

"Why are you here Wilson?" She pressed, letting some venom into her voice. He better not lie to her.

"You and I are not friends," he started, as if that explained everything. Ivy rolled her eyes. Here comes the pitch. "But what we do have in common is Dick."

Ivy stayed silent, letting the mercenary go on because that at least was true. This has to do with Dick, and considering the last time she saw him, he needed help. However Ivy was under the impression the heroes would be doing that, not whatever Deathstroke was cooking up that involved her.

"I'm asking for a favor, on behalf of Dick." Deathstroke explained in his roundabout way. Ivy scowled, she did not like favors. "All you need to do is follow this tracking device when the time comes."

Ivy didn't even bother telling him off for such a dumb move, in fact, she was disappointed. She would have figured the master manipulator would have done a better job manipulating her.

"It does not track you," Slade explained before she could scoff in his face, like she would just take his word for it. "It tracks this," he lifted up an arm, showing a small black disk.

He tossed over the tracker, and she caught it. The little black box had a screen, a yellow blip blinking on screen as the exact location of the device Slade held.

Ivy debated on crushing it, but something stopped her. This was about Dick, and contrary to what others might say, Deathstroke was being very clear. For Deathstroke at least. But that in and of itself was a red flag. Something was up, and if it connects to Dick, she'll hear him out.

But of course the mercenary wouldn't be so easy. He gave her instructions first, before she even knew what she was getting into. "When it gives you the signal, raise Hell."

"And how, pray tell," she scrutinized the tracker, daring him to actually convince her to agree to any of this. "Does this help Dick?"

Slade, however, was growing impatient. "Look, I can't stay in one place very long, especially not here. All you need to know is that if you want Dick to be alive and free, you do what needs to be done."

Ivy's nostrils flared as she took a threatening step forward, vines writhing and rising around her in anger. "Are you threatening me Wilson? By threatening Dick?"

It was Slade's turn to be enraged, and it was at this moment that Ivy realized she had never seen him so... blatantly tired and emotional. He was a mess, barely acting like the cool calm and collected master manipulator she knew he paraded around as.

"Does it look like I'm in any position to hurt Dick right now?" He asked, completely offended and gesturing to his haphazard suit that was already stained in blood Ivy hadn't even questioned until now.

The man sighed, pulling back his anger because it would not persuade Ivy. Well, it kind of did. She had seen this type of rage and desperation before. Usually on Batman. "I know you don't understand the full picture here, but please, trust Dick. He has more than a few shackles not visible to the eye, the heroes will take care of him, we have to take care of the ones who hold his chains. Don't do it for me, do it for him."

Objectively, it made sense. Ivy was still skeptical. Wilson would lie to anyone and everyone for his own purposes. The question was did she trust Wilson's dedication to Dick?

That was the ultimate factor, and Slade seemed to realize it too.

Slade sighed, "I'll make it simpler then. Do you want to save Dick?"

The question was not simple, she could feel how loaded it was, and oh boy it seemed to be much heavier than Ivy was comfortable with. However, the answer was just as simple.

"Yes."

Ivy watched as Slade seemed to relax, ever so slightly. The man pushed his body off the tree but still kept his arm out. "Excellent."

A shadow moved behind him, a near silent splash and thud of a person dropping from above. The figure was dark, broad shouldered and gilded metal decaled them. The large golden goggles of an owl stared at Ivy, stepping up next to the mercenary.

"Then let's get started."

YEET

Next chapter will not be as upsetting, but it is still heavily in the sad category, Joker now has a Talon and the JL needs to recover their sidekicks and Slade is doing something weird. That leaves one person left to get stuff rolling and I'm excited to give him more 'screen time'.

However, speaking of next chapter... ​I have an announcement nobody is going to be happy about. 

Im leaving on a mission for my church very very soon, it lasts 18 months and I will be unable to write during any of it. However I will return, and I will continue writing because by golly I can't stop myself even if it takes me a while. I love this story too much and I must complete it. So basically, just wait another year and a half for another update, nothing you guys haven't done before. It's not ideal but it's what I've decided to do with my time. Everything is going on hiatus until I return. Have fun you guys!!