Dick woke up quickly.

He jumped to his feet with his blade in hand. The acrobat glared around the dark room, scanning for danger with only the shift of his piercing blue eyes, the rest of his body being incredibly still.

It was all clear.

He let a smile slip onto his face. Slade had been teaching him how to wake up silently, how to do lots of things actually. Dick looked down when he felt something crunch beneath his foot, he lifted his bare foot and saw his orange and black mask. Oops...

Dick maneuvered around his room, avoiding piles of clothes and papers from his desk, he got to the wall and flipped on the light. His room was honestly a mess, he usually kept it pretty clean (per Slades orders) but he had a busy night and had been too tired to do anything properly.

The grin on his face lifted as he remembered what day it was. It was his birthday, he was turning 13.

Dick hurriedly changed clothes and grabbed his belt, Slade was probably going to scold him for not wearing it but he'd been exhausted last night and had taken it off for a more comfortable sleep. The raven haired teen slid on a green shirt and some jeans, putting on some socks  and clicked the belt across his waist. He ran a hand through his untamable pitch black hair, and, as the name suggests, it was useless to try to tame his hair, especially after sleeping. He put his Renegade suit and mask on the dresser and placed all the random clothes in the hamper at the foot of his bed. Usually Slade would want him in Renegade garb, but today was special.

The raven haired boy threw open his door and began to run, only to think twice and begrudgingly trudged back into his room. Slade usually told him to make his bed before leaving his room in the mornings, Dick was just so excited. He made the bed as quick as he could then dashed out of the room.

He accidentally slammed it on the way out but he didn't care at this point. Today was his 13th birthday, Slade said he was going to do something special for this birthday.

Dicks smile never wavered as he ran down the hall, he did a cartwheel for the fun of it and slowed at the archway that led into the kitchen.

He silently peered over the edge of the wall, his bright blue gaze intense with barely contained excitement.

Slade stood over the stove in his night clothes, something was hissing and the man seemed intent on the food. The warm smell of pancakes wafted through the air, there was only one thing missing.

Dick grew an impish grin.

The raven haired boy slipped silently into the room, he tip toed to the pantry where he grabbed a certain bag from the top shelf. He watched for any movement from the mercenary as he opened the bag, and stalked up behind the large man.

He rose the bag over his own head, barely able to make it above Slades and held his breath.

Slade spun and around and grabbed his arm. Dick froze with his smile still plastered over his face. Slade's single gray eye glared at the child.

Without breaking eye contact, Dick flicked the bag and it's contents tumbled out over the mercenary. Chocolate chips rained down on the old mans head and scattered to the floor and counter.

"I thought we agreed chocolate chips were for special occasions." Slade broke the silence, he also released the boy's arm and turned back to the stove. The hand that wasn't holding a spatula grabbed at some of the chocolate chips that fell onto the counter.

Dick released his breath and lowered the bag, he sidled up next to the mercenary to survey the food making process, finding milk, syrup, a two plates, two cups, and butter next to the stove. On the other side was a bowl with pancake mix remanence inside, a serving spoon rested inside, clearly the device of the mixing.

"Nooo, really? Special occasions?! Today couldn't be a special occasion right?" Dick drawled with heavy sarcasm, rolling his eyes and gasping loudly.

Slade didn't look up from the pancakes, he flipped one and then the other, a few dark splotches where a sweet treat resided. "Not any that I remember." Slade answered curtly.

Dick scrunched his nose. "Your a terrible liar."

"If I was a good liar you wouldn't know would you?" Slade retorted.

The sentence made Dick pause. "True, but you taught me how to distinguish that."

"Yes I did, now get your butt on a seat or I'll have to eat all these pancakes by myself."

Dick spun with a grin and raced for the table, he sat down quickly and it rocked the chair. Dick watched as Slade made purposely, agonisingly, slow movements to transfer the fresh pancakes from the grill to the plates waiting beside the burning stove.

"You didn't wear the 'kiss the cook' apron?" Dick said, his head cocking to the side innocently as his face stretched into another smile.

"Can it Boy Wonder, I could just as easily let these pancakes fall on the floor." Slade replied without looking up.

"You know I would still eat them." Dick dead panned.

Slade let a small huff escape him, the closest Slade ever got to laughter. "Yeah, but I assume you want to eat these without the questionable goop that's on the floor." Dick couldn't see what Slade was doing with the pancakes but he eagerly awaited his prize, pancakes were a special thing for a boy who grew up with virtually nothing.

"Goop? Since when is there goop on the floor?" Dick asked, he was a little confused and genuinely curious. He and Slade kept the kitchen quite clean, usually it was Dick who had to clean it though. He didn't mind really, it was just a chore, like cleaning his blades.

"Since you started your series of bad attempts at cooking." Slade said blatantly. "I don't even know how you managed to ruin spaghetti but you never cease to amaze me." Slade slid the plate and cup of milk onto the table in front of Dick, a single blue candle stuck in the middle of the tower of five pancakes. The candle was already lit and Dick blinked as he realized what Slade said.

"Wait a second... was that a compliment?"

"Happy birthday kiddo." Slade sat opposite to him with his own plate, plain buttermilk pancakes topped with butter and warm syrup, his own cup of milk on his right.

Dick stared at the candle on his pancakes, he closed his eyes to make a wish, then blew out the candle.

The teen then plucked out the candle and dug into the tower of chocolate chip pancakes with his fork, forgoing the knife and practically inhaling the food.

Slade just watched for a few seconds, mildly disturbed by the animalistic nosies emanating from the child as he scarfed down the pancakes. Dick had dinner last night right?

"The food isn't going anywhere." Slade eventually commented, finally slicing into his own pile of pancakes.

"Yesh ih ish." Dick said with his mouth full, "ish going tuh mah stomak."

"Finish chewing and swallow before speaking, it might spare your victims nightmares."

Dick laughed a little then realized if he laughed he would choke, so he stoped and finished chewing before taking a long drag of his milk.

Dick surfaced for air and had quite the milk mustache, as well as (somehow but not surprisingly) a chocolate chip stain on his cheek.

"You have something on your face." Slade commented, pointing with the knife.

"Really?" Dick said, "could it be two fully functioning eyes?"

Slade looked up with a glare. Dick gave a weak smile to let the man know he was joking.

The mercenary grabbed a napkin and passed it across the table, then he picked up his fork and knife again.

Dick reached for the napkin then snatched his hand back as Slades knife thudded into the table through the napkin.

Dick yelped in surprise and ducked as Slades fork was sent spiraling in his direction. Dick grabbed his own knife and threw it at the mercenary, in which only increased the teens danger as Slade caught the knife. Dick reached up and grabbed the knife Slade imbedded into the table.

Slade lunged and Dick parried his attack, the acrobat backed up as the mercenary moved forward, exchanging quick jabs and blocks. The raven haired teen flipped backwards onto the counter and jumped to avoid a swipe at his feet. Dick did a single-handed handspring over Slade, using the graying haired head of his mentor as a vault.

The mercenary spun and sliced at the kid, Dick dodged just barely as he twisted his torso to evade the blade, his arm however, got sliced. Dick winced as his attention was diverted to his arm for a split second, where his landing was thrown off and he fell to the ground with an 'oomph'. He landed on his tailbone rather uncomfortably and when he went to stand up he hit his head on the table, the boy flashed a grimace but quickly hid it.

The acrobat rolled to the side but was fully aware Slade gave him time to recover. Dick honestly didn't like it when Slade went easy on him, if he was to get better he needed to be able to take a few punches. Because there's never a time where the victor of a battle is unscathed, each side gets damaged, it's how you deal with the damage and still able to give damage that determines the victor.

Dick popped back up onto his feet and ran forward, he slid under Slades legs and bent backwards to avoid the elbow cruising back to hit him. Dick grabbed onto the limb and vaulted himself up to sit on the mercenaries shoulders.

Slade paused in confusion.

"Hah, I win." Dick said, a little out of breath. The teen's head began to throb but he ignored it, today was not the day to be bested by a simple head injury.

"I'm not beaten." Slade said, but allowed the child to explain, he rather liked how Dick could think outside the box. It was good strategy, good in combat, good for most life decisions too.

"But you stoped fighting, I confused you, it's a viable technique." Dick defended while placing his hands on his hips.

"One that only works once." Slade responded with his permanent scowl.

Dick flipped backwards off his mentor and realized his hands were sticky with syrup form the knife, as well as the cut on his arm was beginning to bleed, it was rather shallow.

"I hope your room is cleaner than your hands, Selina said she had a gift for you, you know I don't like being late." Slade said as the acrobat moved over to the sink to wash his hands.

It could have been interpreted as threatening, but Dick knew Slade too well, he was being serious, but also sarcastic. It was the only other emotion Dick got from Slade besides anger or seriousness. But he knew the mercenary was just looking it for him, it was just hard to see sometimes.

"In uniform?" Dick asked, he probably could have guessed, but he wanted to ask anyway. When Slade brought him to meet other people it was always for business, very serious business. Selina and the other girls were just too amused by the tiny acrobat raised by Deathstroke to realize he was dangerous, and that he should be serious. Dick trusted them though, a thing he had very little of, he could be more of a goofy version of himself around them, if Deathstroke said it was alright.

"Yes." The mercenary answered, then narrowed his cold eye on the boy. "You have your belt on?"

"Yup!" Dick said happily, but he saw it coming, he was expecting it actually.

Slade whacked the boy upside the head, and none to lightly, but it wasn't full force, Dick knew what those felt like, their training sessions saw to that.

"But not last night, I've told you before, never ever be without your belt, it'll save your life one day and you'll thank me." Slade scolded with a narrowed eye, resisting the urge to wag his finger at the wincing child. Dick twisted the faucet off and grabbed a few paper towels to dry his hands.

"Yeah, I know I know... I just felt weird sleeping in it, it was a long day." Dick said, rubbing his sore head and avoiding eye contact.

"What were you doing? You know the rules." Slade inquired (more like demanded), if he was off doing who knows what and Batman fou-

"I was ...at the cemetery..." Dick said softly.

Slade breathed in a deep sigh in both relief and to tone down his anger. "We agreed you won't go anywhere outside without me."

"I know, but you were busy... and I had time..."

"You missed Dinner."

"Ok so it ran a little long, I had lots to say!"  Dick defended. It was his thirteenth birthday, five years since their fall. Four years with Slade, with one dreadful year at several orphanages before coming to the juvenile detention center where Dick did NOT fit in. But no one would have guessed it by the murderous look in his eye and scruffy looks, he was always the one beaten up by the other kids, being a gypsy street rat does that.

"Get changed, we leave in 10, meet me in the garage." Slade said, he knew the sad look in his apprentices eyes, it was the same sad look he's had since he found him. Slade had hoped he could fix that, but he feared he wasn't enough. "As it is your thirteenth birthday, as promised, you get your wish."

Dick lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?!"

Slade nodded, "Now get your butt in gear, I don't want to be late."

Slade stayed to clean the mess in the kitchen while Dick ran down the hall, his grin back on and a laugh escaped his lips.

He burst into his room and put on his suit as quickly as possible. "He got it, he actually got it." Dick mumbled to himself, not really sure he could believe it.

Dick shoved his feet into the iron-tipped boots and pulled on his dark gloves, the belt was already around his waist and he strapped on the dual blades across his chest. He grabbed the mask from his desk and put it on, oh how he loved the mask. He could be anyone with the mask, he didn't have to be Dick Grayson, he was Renegade, with the dark R on his chest and the iconic orange and black mask. His suit had stripes on it too, on his torso going out and up behind his back. Right after his gloves near his elbow was some orange too.

Dick loved the color scheme, orange and black was dangerous, it was his and Deathstrokes, Dick loved owning it.

Renegade made sure to put his clothes away and grabbed the blade from under his pillow, Dick had easily gotten used to that habit, he'd rather not sleep at all if he was without a weapon. He sheathed the blade in a practiced motion and grabbed a few new throwing disks from his desk, he pocketed them and ran out of the room.

He sprinted for the garage, in the opposite direction of the kitchen, moving swiftly under the white beams of light that came from the ceiling. To be honest Dick wouldn't mind a splash of color in the mostly gray bunker, but it was a bunker, it wasn't technically supposed to be homey. Besides, Dick couldn't complain, the man took him in, thought him valuable things, he could deal with a bland house.

Dicks mind raced with excitement, Slade had promised for his thirteenth birthday, and if Dick was at a high enough training level, Slade would get him his own motorcycle.

Dick was ecstatic, he knew how to drive one yes, but it was Deathstrokes, he didn't have his own. Renegade burst into the garage, not surprised to find Slade in Deathstroke gear next to his bulky motorcycle. Even if the boy had a head start Slade always had a way to be here first, sometimes Dick wondered if the man had teleportation powers. That would be so cool to have.

Deathstroke said nothing but gave a pointed nod to a slightly smaller orange and black motorcycle on the other side of the room.

Dick couldn't help but raise his fists up in a double fist pump, an excited yell exiting his lungs.

"YES!"

Dick ran forward and grabbed the handle bars of the motorcycle, it was perfect, he swung his leg around and sat in the seat. The acrobat checked over its gauges, smiling at all the secret buttons that no doubt would cause mass destruction and mayhem, he couldn't wait to try it out, even if he wouldn't be allowed to use the explosives.

"Thank you so much! Yes! This is perfect! Thank you thank you thank you!" Renegade got off the motorcycle and ran to Deathstroke, wrapping his arms around his middle and hugging the man tightly.

Deathstroke simply patted the boy's back and grunted his welcome. Dick was always expressive, Deathstroke was not, it was a little awkward for him, Deathstroke wasn't one for hugs, unless it was very important. Deathstroke didn't think this was one of those times, he knew Dick had wanted one, he hadn't realized he wanted it this badly.

"Thanks Da-ethstroke." Dick said again into the man's metal plating.

He could feel Deathstroke stiffen and he himself winced. Nice recovery Grayson, the acrobat scolded himself.

Deathstroke grabbed the boy's shoulder to move him back to arms length, hugs were over, it was time for business now.

"Let's go apprentice, and keep up." Deathstroke didn't make eye contact as he mounted his bike, Renegade frowned at himself but quickly replaced it with a grin as he ran to his own bike.

He knew Deathstroke wasn't exactly a good father, the man was a murderer, so was he, but he was as close as one as he got. He taught him everything, he was there when no one else was, the mercenary may not be the ideal father, but Renegade couldn't help but think of him as one.

Deathstroke never said he didn't want to be called Dad, but he never said he did either. It was only in certain scenarios where Renegade was allowed to call him that, usually it was when Renegade didn't have control over his emotions. Those days were dangerous, and it had nothing to do with physical harm.

Renegade shook off his darkening thoughts, he heard Deathstrokes motorcycle revv and Ren hurried to do the same. His grin widened into an almost diabolical smile, he twisted the throttle and zoomed out of the concrete cage.

Deathstroke pulled ahead and Renegade followed his every move, the wind pulled at his face and hair, his eyes nearly watering with the speed. He breathed in a deep contented sigh, soaking up the sun and glad to smell the fresh air, even if it was Gotham air, Gotham wasn't known for its pleasant smells.

He wondered if this is hat his parents felt like when they flew, the exhilaration and the sheer danger of being an inch away from death. At these speeds, if Ren crashed, he would probably be killed.

It was a feeling that overwhelmed his body with energy, the feeling of truly being alive.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Deathstroke finally slowed to a more reasonable speed, Renegade followed suit and his cheeks hurt with the Cheshire grin he'd been displaying the entire thirty minute ride.

The orange and black mercenary slid to a stop inside a hanger, a large warehouse that was made of more than tacky metal and sheets of aluminum. There was a musty sting to the air, Renegade assumed it was rotten rust, but he didn't see the tell-tale signs of the orange powder along the walls and beams in the rafters. Scouting the area was instinct, something quickly driven into him since his beginning with Slade.

Inside were a few familiar faces, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and  Catwoman all sat around a table in the middle of the room. Each looked up from their card game (that looked suspiciously like slap jack), and each smiled at his entrance. A few more burly faces were across the way, villains Renegade recognised as Count Vertigo and Black Atom.

Both men had sour faces and looked to be discussing something, Black Atom had his arms crossed over his chest and Vertigo looked like someone puked in his food. Renegade didn't want to be disrespectful, another attribute Deathstroke trained him to have, but the face Vertigo was making was very amusing.

"Ren!" Came the giggly and squealy voice of all three girls at the steel round table.

Renegade parked next to Deathstroke but waited before going over to the awaiting villainesses, Deathstroke laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and caught his eye.

"I will be discussing with my colleagues, don't interrupt and don't make a scene. Standard hostile procedure applies." Deathstroke ordered lowly.

That was Deathstrokes way of saying; 'I'm doing important stuff, stay close but don't do anything stupid, and if there is danger, come to me.'

Renegade liked to think it was worry that drove him to say the last part, but the hard look in his mentors eye said something else. Deathstroke was still upset with something that may or may not have been Renegades own doing, he just hoped the man would be mad for too long, it was his birthday after all.

Renegade nodded dutifully and when the hand was lifted he skipped off with a big grin.

Deathstroke eyed the boy as he left, he personally didn't like bringing Renegade to these meetings, it was too exposed out here. Any of these villains could strike any time they wanted to, there was no such thing as 'truce' here, and Renegade was an easy target. That's why he wanted to keep the boy away from these things, it was dangerous, and Deathstroke wasn't sure the small acrobat could handle it. The mercenary sure didn't want the boy dead, and bringing him here is one way to get a child killed. It would be all to easy for these villains to wipe Renegade off the face of the earth. He was just a boy, unlike the rest of the super powered villains gathered here. Except for Harley and Selina, but Deathstroke trusted them with Renegade, they cared to much to let him come to any serious harm.

With that somewhat comforting thought Deathstroke walked stoically to the comuning villains.

Poison Ivy caught Renegade first in a hug, squishing him in her embrace, Ren hugged back but squeaked as his breath was taken by another squeeze. She always smelled of roses, that, or acid, it was kinda Ivy's thing to smell both pretty and dangerous.

"Ivy your hogging him!" Harley practically ripped Renegade from Ivy's grip and smothered him in her own hug. Harley always smelled like makeup and Joker gas, two things Renegade wasn't exactly fond of. It wasn't that he didn't like Harley, he just didn't like the Joker. Renegade wasn't stupid, he knew an abusive relationship when he saw one.

"...umm... air...?" Renegade squeaked out as spots began to dance across his vision.

Harley released the apprentice and Renegade sucked in much needed oxygen. He gave them all a smile and pulled the waiting Selina into a hug.

"Happy birthday baby bird." Selina whispered, petting his raven hair with her slender clawed gloves.

She was the only one Dick ever confided in, he had told her about his life before Deathstroke, she knew it all. If Deathstroke was his dad then Selina would be his mom. The only difference was one relished the role and the other tried not to acknowledge it.

"Master finally got me my own bike!" Renegade said, pulling away from the hug to gesture excitedly to the sleek orange and black motorcycle next to the bigger and bulkier cycle owned by his mentor.

"Is he still doing that 'Master' thing?" Ivy asked, placing a hand on Ren's shoulder and looking at him with concern. Meanwhile Harley eyed the bike with a grin, she was just happy to be there, as Renegade already deduced, Harley wasn't big on the uptake when it came to relationships.

"I don't mind, I swear the only reason I'm still doing it is for aesthetic, you can't have the 'master and apprentice' thing without the 'master' and 'apprentice'." Renegade explained with an annoyed huff, gesturing to himself and Deathstroke's direction.

Renegade got defensive when they brought it up, and they always brought it up, he knew they were just worried, but he seriously didn't mind calling Deathstroke 'Master'. It was the closest he got to 'Dad'.

Selina ruffled the boy's already wild hair and giggled. "Alright, but training is going well?"

That was her code for; 'Deathstroke isn't hurting you bad?'

"Not more painful than usual, besides, if I can dish it I should probably be able to take it." Renegade grinned while nodding slowly. "No one learns by staying in their comfort zone."

"Ah! Boy Wonder!" A new voice filled the wherehouse and Renegade couldn't help but flinch. Speak of comfort zones and suddenly you're thrown in for a loop, Renegade thought. As good of terms as he was with most villains, The Joker seemed to like him too much, it creeped the acrobat out. He grew up in a circus, he was fine around clowns, but the Joker just made it seem wrong.

Harley squeaked and waltzed over to the mad man, his skin ever the chalky white and his hair it's wild green. His face was always stretched into that horrid smile, a smile too big for his face.

"Mistah Jay!" Harley threw her arms around the Joker with her pig tails bobbing.

"Still hanging around Mr Death are ya?" Joker ignored Harley and went straight to Renegade.

The apprentice couldn't help but feel threatened, it was the one villain he didn't feel comfortable around. At least, of the villains he had met.

"Yes sir," Renegade would have continued if the Joker hadn't cut him off with laughter.

"Did you hear that Halrs? 'Sir' he called me 'sir'." The Jokers laughter rung through the air and it only intensified Renegades nerves. Deathstroke looked over at the familiar sound and frowned, Renegade didn't tell him everything but he knew just by looking at him that the boy was uncomfortable with The Joker. His eye narrowed but he returned to his conversation, the boy needed to learn how to face his fears alone.

The joker must have felt the mercenary staring because he twisted around and  pointed and winked at Deathstroke who returned it with a glare. "You raised this kid right Deathy." He busted out laughing again and Renegade could hear Selina sigh beside him.

Joke then took a step forward, Renegade stepped back involuntarily.

"Wanna see one of my new tricks boy?" He grabbed his purple jacket and  gestured to the innocent yellow flower on his left side. "Go ahead, take a look." 

Renegade went to back away some more but he frowned and stood his ground, backing away was for defense or preparation for offense. He wouldn't let the Joker know he scared him.

"Umm." Renegade spared a glance to Deathstroke, but he couldn't see him from behind the ever growing closer mad man.

"It won't bite." Joker said, lifting the yellow plastic flower, as if that should console the boy, it may not bite but it would do plenty of other things.

The flower got uncomfortably close to Renegades face. He didn't want to wince but he felt like he needed to be prepared for something to hit his face.

The Joker backed away and laughed.

Renegade blinked in confusion.

"You didn't expect that did you? Nothing happened!!" The Joker threw his head back and laughed more, almost violently. Renegade didn't know how to respond to that.

Suddenly something small and metal bounced to the ground, The Jokers eyes lifted upwards for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders with his iconic giant grin. "Oopsies."

Green smoke hissed into the air from the small canister on the ground. The Joker backed away while Renegade was still frozen with momentary shock.

Renegade put a hand to his mouth but it was too late, he already inhaled some of it in and began coughing which led to more getting in his lungs.

Renegade stumbled out of the cloud, doubled over and gasping for breath. His chest burned, but he wasn't laughing, so it wasn't Jokers laughing gas? Then what was it?

Deathstroke was there in an instant, but instead of helping Renegade he punched The Joker.

"What did I tell you about my apprentice." Deathstroke growled, his single eye ablaze with fury. "Idiot." The Joker kept laughing, even when he crashed to the ground by the force of the blow to the face.

Renegade fell to his hands and knees, his chest burned so bad, he was coughing so much it was making him dizzy.

"Who knew Deathstroke was so... protective?" The Joker cackled breathlessly and got to his feet. "It's harmless really, underdeveloped Joker Venom, it should be out of his system soon."

"That, doesn't look harmless." Deathstroke narrowed his eye, pointing to his coughing apprentice.

Selina came up and helped Renegade to his feet, but he still bent over to cough. She asked him if he was alright but he could barely get a breath in, much less speak.

Joker watched Selina bring Renegade to the table, sitting him in a chair. "Oh, well, that's why they call it venom right?" He giggled.

Deathstroke shoved past the mad man and went to his apprentice. Renegade had his eyes closed and his face was red with the need for air, his body shaking with the effort of ridding his lungs of the gas.

The mercenary glared daggers at the mad man who scurried to the other side of the table, seeming to want to avoid another collision of his face and Deathstrokes fist.

"Now now, I didn't come here to mess with the boy blunder, but injustice must be served!" The Joker announced, gesturing to the awaiting (and rather annoyed) Injustice league members.

Renegade began to get his breath back, but it was with deep wheezing that he was doing it, he sat up and shook his pounding head. "I'm good... just... a little... cough." He said between body rattling coughs.

Deathstroke dialed his glare up.

"We're leaving." The mercenary decided.

"Aww, so soon?" The Joker asked, "the boy blunder says he's fine! Surely he can stay and have a little fun?"

"Our definition of 'fun' is different than yours Joker." Deathstroke growled, he grabbed Renegades shoulder and pulled him up to his feet. The acrobat stumbled a little but he made it to the parked motorcycles with the heavy guiding hand of Deathstroke on his shoulder.

"You might be surprised that they are actually quite similar." The Joker mumbled with a sinister grin, "but you're right, I do enjoy a good rivalry, especially when there's so many players!" His hysterical cackle filled the air as Deathstroke put the boy's motorcycle on autopilot (he wasn't stupid, that was he first thing Deathstroke said the motorcycle needed to have).

The two pealed out of the warehouse and were gone, Selina's gift still wrapped on the table inside, forgotten.

Welp, that was exciting, right?

Hehehe, I'll admit, this is going to be an interesting book.

Oh yes and I've drawn Dick in his Renegade suit, I'm quite proud of it.

It's sorta a mix between Teen Titans and Young Justice, but in this book I think I'll do only Young Justice (character wise).

5416 words mah peeps!

See y'all around!! (Note I don't exactly have a stable updating system, school is killing me rn)