Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of League of Vigilantes
Stats:
Published:
2022-11-24
Updated:
2023-04-05
Words:
3,455
Chapters:
4/?
Comments:
39
Kudos:
407
Bookmarks:
65
Hits:
4,456

Boarded Up

Summary:

Dick Grayson left Bruce years ago, with Slade happily taking him under his wing only a few months ago. Recently, Slade's other apprentice has returned from training with the All Caste, and Dick is determined to befriend the other guy. Unfortunately, Jason is eerily silent, and Dick is starting to worry - it still doesn't stop his big brother instincts from kicking in.

Chapter 1: Hide Away

Chapter Text

"Dick, I have to warn you that Jay might take some time to adjust to your presence," Slade reminded him as they waited for the plane to land.

"I know, I know, it's hard to forget," he responded as he had so many times before. Slade eyed him.

"Dick."

"Slade, I promise I won't overwhelm him, I'll give him time, I will be completely angelic," Dick reassured.

"Be serious here," Slade said with a sigh. "Jason is easy to startle, try to reel in the enthusiasm. You need to be calm with him."

"I am calm," Dick defended. A pause. "Anything else I should know?"

"The Joker is a big trigger for him, don't mention that clown, try not to laugh too, for lack of a better term, wildly, and whatever you do, do not stare at his scars, especially the ones on his face - try not to even look at the burn under his eye."

"Burn?"

"Trust me, you'll know it when you see it. Drunken scar stories are acceptable, but under no circumstances should anyone, especially you and I, ask about that scar."

"That bad?"

"Yes, now shut up, here he and Talia come."

Following Slade's gaze, he saw a neat looking woman walk quickly towards them, a much shorter young man jogging to keep up with her. He had to be younger than Dick, quite a bit shorter, maybe five foot four at max, but with wide shoulders and a lot of muscles.

As he approached, Dick couldn't help but look at the J shaped scar under one eye - it was a fucking brand. God, Dick had so many questions. He forced himself to look into the maybe nineteen year old's eyes instead, noting the dark, swirling, glint of intelligence that lingered in them

"Wilson," the smartly dressed woman, Talia, greeted.

"Al Ghul," Slade shot back, then seemed to soften. "Jason, it's good to see you again. How was your training? I hope to hear that you haven't killed any more instructors."

Talia put her hand on Jason's shoulder, something he allowed her to do, but with an air of `don't you dare try this` directed at Dick.

"Jason's time with the All-Caste was a vast learning experience with no trainers turning up dead, and many improved skills," Talia explained. "I'm very proud of him, and Damian was glad to see his big brother again."

Dick glanced at Slade.

"Damian is Talia's biological son. He believes Jason to be his blood brother - he's only young. If Talia thinks you skilled, you may get to meet him some day."

Dick opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't get your hopes up, she has high expectations," Slade added, then turned to Jason. "Your armour is in the trunk. Get changed, when you're done we'll go over our next mission."

Jason nodded, walking away to Slade's inconspicuous car, quietly opening the trunk and hauling out the giant duffelbag that Dick watched Slade drop in there earlier. He opened it, checked the contents, closed it, and walked off to the nearest toilet.

"I'll have to go now," Talia hummed. "Wilson, Grayson."

Talia was gone before Dick knew it, walking away with confidence in every step. Slade turned to Dick.

"You have your suit on under your civvies?"

"You told me not to forget so I didn't forget," Dick replied with a shrug.

"Good, you can change on the way over then," the older man decided, unbuttoning the trenchcoat he wore over the majority of his Deathstroke gear. He threw it in the trunk, grabbing his helmet out of it as he did. "Don't forget what I've told you about Jason, it's very important."

"Pinky promise, boss."

"Our employer wants information first and foremost," Slade started as he drove down the deserted highway road. "We have a hit, but only if given the opportunity. We have to focus on the data they want. Renegade, I trust that you'll be able to download everything onto the thumb drive I gave you."

"Got it."

"Knight," Slade continued, Jason making a quiet sound to indicate he was listening, "you're to stand guard with me, but if you get the chance after Renegade has got everything we need, take out the supervisor, I've sent everything you need to know to your helmet."

From next to Slade, Jason hummed, nodding as he did. Dressed head to toe in bulky armour, with a helmet that looked like it mocked Batman's cowl sitting on his lap. (Don't tell anyone, but Dick thought the horn like antennae looked like cat ears.)

"Any questions?"

"Download everything or just a specific file or...?"

"A file, name 021_gsj.34, don't forget."

Dick repeated that a few times under his breath until he was sure he had it memorised.

"Who's our employer this time?" Dick followed up with.

"Anonymous, not our business."

Dick shrugged.

"So just do it, no questions asked?"

"That's the point, Renegade, don't give me a headache."

Jason made a quiet humming noise, as if agreeing with Slade. Dick sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it."

The compound was vast, set into the quarry floor, with soldiers patrolling every inch of the property. The place was crawling with armed guards, drones in the air, automatic sentries and mounted fucking cannons.

At a glance, it was an impenetrable fortress. Dick, however, knew better - every armour has it's cracks, and this place was actually pretty sloppy in it's security. Slade made sure Dick knew the way around every site they were sent to work, allowing Dick to know the hidden, uncommonly checked tunnel under the facility.

Jason was next to him now, appearing to look into the grounds from their advantage point - it was hard to tell with the helmet on, though Dick had to admit that it was kind of intimidating, giving him a very similar silhouette to Batman.

Dick pictured someone being hunted by Slade turning a corner, seeing Batman's signature cowl ears. Full of relief, they run towards him, only for the dread to set in when he turns around and reveals the glowing eyes of his faceplate, gun in hand. Their heart sinks as they realise: that isn't Batman. It's the last thing they ever see.

Dick's blood went cold at the thought. Truly, the Arkham Knight seemed to be built as a mock to Bruce. Dick could appreciate Jason for that, Bruce was a prick. He'd like to see a Batman versus Arkham Knight fight - Jason would probably win, Bruce would probably die.

Okay so maybe the Knight scared him a little. Or a lot. At least he had no Robin or Nightwing directed hate, thank fuck.

"Looks busy," the Knight remarked, and Jesus Christ that voice modulator punched Dick in the gut then stole his kneecaps. "Think you'll be able to handle this, Renegade?"

"Is that a mock?"

"No, no, I'm genuinely curious - I've not been gone for long, I can only imagine how far even Deathstroke can get you in that amount of time."

"I'm sensing sarcasm."

The Knight made a sound that seemed like a laugh.

"Good luck out there."

Dick frowned as the Knight clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.

"Renegade," Slade spoke up, passing the Knight as he approached.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, just a little confused?"

"He spoke to you?"

"Yeah, you said he wouldn't. What changed?"

"Nothing. Him speaking as Arkham Knight is very different from himself. Keep that in mind Renegade. Get ready, we're going in five minutes."

Chapter 2

Summary:

Dick's musings of Jason, also one of Slade's rules is sneakily broken for the sake of it.

Chapter Text

Jason, Dick learned, was ruthless, on and off missions. That first mission was over almost as soon as it started - Dick got everything he needed faster than Slade could say "Renegade calm down." He was in and out in a moment, information gathered, and the second he called it in to Slade, the Knight stepped up for his side of the mission. Bodies fell before Dick could process him even drawing his guns.

When they got back to their current base, allowing Dick time to think, he realised just how terrifying Jason actually was. Slade had said, Jason was raised with torture, likely the only form of kindness he'd seen a fake to break his mind even more than it already had, not to mention that Slade wasn't exactly emotionally equipped enough to show support in any way that wasn't "good kill."

Jason, Dick realized, was a broken kid who only knew to lash out with the violence he'd been taught. Jason, Dick realized, was in desperate need of positive reinforcement in the domestic areas of his life. Dick was up to the challenge, but he needed to know more.

So weeks turned into weeks, months into months, mission after mission, Dick gave his all, hoping, praying to catch Jason's attention because there was no way Jason would open up if Dick came to him, no, Jason would have to come to Dick.

And eventually, in the middle of the night as Dick sat in the kitchen having a drink, Jason appeared. Small in height, but not weak, with growing black hair in a tiny braid that was about an inch long, and absolutely covered scars. For the first time, he'd shown himself to Dick without any armour or a visible weapon, simply just a shirt, baggy trousers, and a hoodie - simple sleepwear to Dick's knowledge.

"Oh, hey," Dick said as soon as he noticed the younger man hovering just outside the doorway. "Hungry?"

A hurried nod.

"Come on in, I don't bite."

Slowly, hesitantly, Jason took a step into the kitchen. As soon as he crossed the doorway, he darted to the cupboards, pulling out a box of cereal that Dick hadn't realized was there.

"That's a strange choice for a midnight snack," he commented fondly, getting a cautious look from Jason. "Would you like the milk?"

Another quick jerk of a nod, and Dick opened the fridge, plucking the jug off of the shelf. He set it down on the counter, wary enough to give Jason his space, and backed up, returning to his tea. Jason filled a bowl, then hopped up onto the counter to sit. Dick couldn't help but snort.

"Don't let Slade catch you doing that," he told the other.

Jason shrugged, a smug look on his face.

"Old habit, huh?"

Jason nodded.

"And he's never caught you?"

Jason shook his head.

"Wow, that's impressive. He always seems to know when I'm doing something he doesn't like. Is there a trick to it or something?"

Jason seesawed his hand, then patted the counter next to him.

"Sorry, do you want me to sit on the counter too?"

Jason nodded.

"Okay, then if we get caught I'm blaming you."

Jason shot him thumbs up, and Dick found himself trying to quiet his laughs. Dick climbed up onto the counter, sitting across the kitchen from the ever vigilant Jason. He didn't want to push his way too close, he didn't want to break what little trust Jason seemed to be giving him by appearing alone without armour.

He was happy to wait, happy to sit quietly, happy to support Jason in any way he could as soon as the younger man let him in.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Dick puts a few things together, and Jason finally says something.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Dick remembered the case of the Unknown Arkham Inmate like the back of his hand, the blood haunting him, the screams so cruel. They'd gotten an anonymous tip, he and Batman, about the time that Dick was planning on becoming Nightwing, it was probably the last mission he did as Robin.

It wasn't long before Bruce tried to get Dick to leave, but as stubborn as he's always been, he pushed on, stumbling into an abandoned room, like a child's bedroom, dried blood coating everything, a few torn posters of heroes, Batman being a common face on the wall, and so many rusty chains.

Just standing there, he could hear the ghost of a sob, a faint crying. By the time Bruce caught up with him, the sounds were gone, leaving just the heartbreaking sight of this horrific room that may have once been imprisoning a child. Bruce didn't believe him, Bruce never believed him.

But then Dick found a photo, an old and blurry polaroid that he refused to give to Bruce. A child, tied to an electric chair, their feet in a bucket of what had to be water, a sack laying discarded on the floor in the background. The child themself wore a prison jump suit, the type that was commonly worn by those in the criminally insane ward. Their dark hair was shaggy, having evidence of recently being styled by the time the photo was taken, hanging into his face, made worse by how the child dipped, no energy to keep themself upright. Their face, scarred, blood covered... young.

Dick threw up, stuffing the photo into his pocket, and hurrying away. For years, he wondered about the kid in that photo.

Jason, he eventually realised after connecting the cuts across the kid's lips and face to the long scars that were overshadowed by the brand scar, was the kid in that photo. Not wanting to remind Jason of anything by giving him the photo, nor risk handing over information about Jason that Slade might not know, he burned the picture, throwing it into the firepit in the yard and letting the flames do their job.

Staring into the dancing glow, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He flinched, jumping up and turning, only to be met by Jason, a small smile on his face, and a bag of marshmallows held tantalisingly in front of his face.

"God, you scared me, I didn't hear you approach," Dick laughed off his flighty response. Jason shrugged.

"I walk quietly," he responded, and Dick froze. His voice was quiet and scratchy, almost unheard next to the constant crackle of the flames. Dick took a minute to consider how different his real voice was compared to the Knight's modulator, even with those three words.

Shit, he's staring.

"I- sorry, I've just never heard you say anything before, just a bit suprising."

Jason shrugged again.

"I get it," he near whispered. "Can I join you?"

Dick blinked.

"Yeah, I'd love your company," he said, sitting back down on the bench and sitting the space next to him. Jason joined him almost immediately, tossing the marshmallow bag into Dick's arms.

"For you. You've been nice, figured I'd pay you back somehow," Jason explained, crossing his legs under himself.

"Thanks, man. You want any?"

Jason shook his head.

"You're weird," the younger instead added. Dick shot him a look, and Jason snorted.

"No, I grew up in Gotham."

"So did I, but you don't see me actin' like a fuckin' squirrel."

"No, because you're too busy being a catboy. Hey, is the Arkham Knight your fursona?"

Jason threw his boot in Dick's direction.

"Still not denying it," Dick teased.

Jason slumped.

"Oh my god, I hate you Renegade," he said, tone light, not entirely serious.

"Don't worry, bud, it's just that it's my job to annoy you, Slade's orders."

"... Somehow this is an improvement over the roaches he released in my gear."

"Might as well own it, Captain Catboy."

"Shut the fuck up, Ren."

Notes:

Anyways Jason complains to Slade about the fursona and catboy thing but Slade just thought it was hilarious and now none of the Gotham Rogues can take the Arkham Knight seriously until he's finally like okay fine I guess I'm a catboy.

The Gotham Rogues are kind of like the weird aunts/uncles/whatever the gender neutral version of aunt and uncle is of Jason and Dick

Chapter 4

Summary:

Slade's got a job coming up and has to bring the boys to Gotham. Dick and Slade talk.

Notes:

So uh one of the talking points is Jason killing someone who was being insensitive about that scar, so if you want to skip that it starts at "I told you I could behave" and ends at "Again, they fell quiet"

Chapter Text

Slade slammed the folder down on the kitchen table.

"Listen up, you little shits, I got a solo job but I can't trust you two alone so you're both gonna have to come with me," he told them.

Dick looked up from his coffee slowly.

"Well, good morning to you too, Slade," he mumbled sarcastically.

Jason grunted, like some sort of large annoyed creature. Looking to his left, Dick caught sight of how much of a mess Jason was at that point, massive eye bags, half asleep where he sat, barely holding his head up. This was a kid not meant to be up so early - no, this was a man who escaped the boundaries of regular time and has suffered ever since. It took a lot for Dick to not laugh at the state of the younger person.

Slade sighed deeply.

"Good morning, Dick and Jason," he reluctantly added.

"Thank you, that didn't take much. Doesn't it feel good to be nice?"

Slade's eye twitched.

"Right, well, we're leaving in an hour," he said, thoroughly done with Dick already.

"Are you sure Jason and I can't stay?"

Slade laughed.

"Stay? Both of you? No way, I like having this fucking base still standing at the end of the day, you hooligans."

"Sorry Slade, we ruffians are made to cause problems."

"Just get your shit together. Gotham's waiting."

Shit. Gotham?

"Wait, are you sure? Wouldn't leaving us alone in Gotham just open up more opportunities for us to cause problems?"

Slade raised an eyebrow.

"Scared, Dick?"

"Psh, no."

"Good. And you won't be alone, you'll have a baby sitter."

"Who?"

"Harvey Dent, Two Face."

Mother fucker.

"You see, I've learned from last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, Jason," Slade continued. Dick shot Jason a look, Jason didn't seem to register that he was being spoken to. "So no trouble, got it?"

Jason grumbled vaguely, and Dick gave a shakey thumbs up. Slade sighed after a moment, turning and walking away.

"Whatever, get your shit together. We're leaving in half an hour."

Jason completely conked out about ten minutes into the car ride, and thankfully Slade pulled over and let Dick swap seats, leaving Jason passed out in the back, and Dick finally got to sit in the front. Jason wasn't about to wake up anytime soon.

"So, you still haven't told him about Nightwing?" Slade asked twenty-five minutes after the seats were switched.

"No, I don't like thinking of that stuff. Seriously, Slade, I'm sure I could've managed on my own back home for a while."

Slade grunted.

"I get that you're worried, but we won't run into the Bat, we're more likely to run into the new Robin."

"New Robin?"

Slade glanced over at him for a second.

"You didn't know?"

"No, I- new Robin?... How could he? Robin is mine, that's what my parents used to call me. Slade, I-"

"I'm sorry, Dick, I thought you knew."

"You're apologising?" Dick checked out the window. "I don't see any flying pigs."

"Oh, ha, ha, kid."

They fell quiet.

"Do you think Harvey'll recognise me?" Dick asked.

"Depends if you take your mask off. Didn't he and Bruce use to be close?"

"Yeah, I saw him a lot as a kid, I honestly preferred him to Bruce, he was fun. Then he had his accident and suddenly he was just.. gone, stopped visiting."

Jason started snoring, prompting a laugh from Dick and Slade.

"I'm glad he's comfortable with you around," Slade mused, "I was worried he wouldn't like you, that you'd be a bit too high energy for him."

"I told you I could behave."

Slade snorted.

"Yeah, well, the last time I tried to take on another apprentice, Jason did not like them." He inhaled sharply through his teeth. "That guy did not last long."

"Did they leave?"

"In a coffin."

"What?"

"Jason killed them."

"What?"

Slade shrugged.

"I don't know the full story, but they were... they were a creep, a Joker fan boy, they... I'm sure you've figured out some things of Jason's past?"

"Yeah, Joker did that to him, didn't he?" Dick asked, drawing a J on his cheek with his index finger.

"Yes, well, the guy pointed that out, a lot. Jason, to his credit, told the guy to stop multiple times, I thought the problem was over and done with, but I was wrong, the guy pushed too far one day, and Jason snapped. When I finally got Jason off the guy he was a battered and bloody mess, with no identifiable features left. Frankly, no sympathy from me, guy had it coming. If it ever comes up again, legally, I will happily take the fall, because if Jason hadn't killed that guy, I would have."

"...Wow."

Slade hummed.

"But you know better than to idolise that clown piece of shit."

Again, they fell quiet.

"I still can't believe Bruce fucking replaced me."

"I know I don't have to worry as much with you, but don't do anything drastic, he's just a kid. Two years younger than Jason. Timothy Drake, I think his name is."

Dick frowned. "The neighbour's kid?"

Slade shrugged.

"I don't know, could be."

A grunt, then a groan, then, "who th'fuck farted?"

Dick laughed.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Jason."

"You fucker, you stole my seat," Jason realized, then mumbled, "I bet it was you who farted."

"OI-"

"Boys, boys, I'm trying to drive, shut the fuck up."

"Yes, Slade."

"Sorry, Slade."

Series this work belongs to: