Genesis 3:19 "By the sweat of your brow you will have food to eat until you return to the ground from which you were made."

On the lowest floor of the Compound -located furthest from the Maze and in the darkest of hallways- resided a single steel door. This was, in fact, the only door in the entire hall, minus the one used to originally enter.

The room itself was heavily barricaded and under constant watch, by cameras or armed security, it tended to vary. Meant for unruly Talons and powerful prisoners, the room was never used often, the Court killed more than it captured. It was rare for any Talons to be kept in the room at all, but for the latter part of a decade, it has been occupied by two.

The unusual part, however, was that these two weren't Talons at all. No crazy serums nor body modifications. Just two regular humans resurrected only once. Male and female, husband and wife. Birthed one child, but parents to none. A shame really.

These two were a special case, meant to be taken out only at the most drastic of circumstances. They were called the Parents, but they used different names for each other -always in secret- and the Court didn't like to hear those. It connected them to the past, and pasts were a thing to be eradicated inside the Court. They simply weren't useful anymore.

But late one evening, a small figure ran down the long, dark hallway that led to the Parents. He was heaving for breath and hunched over himself when he arrived, barely getting his message out, but somehow he managed. It was his duty after all.

"It's time," he said, pointing to the large door with a shaking finger, "The Judge has released the Parents to collect the Talon."

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The woman woke up thrashing, frantically reaching for something, whilst her breath came out in short, ragged gasps. Her panic -increasing ever so slowly as the world around her was enveloped in darkness- made her start shaking, similar to a leaf. She couldn't see, not even her hand as she brought it close to her face. Struggling to her feet, but collapsing with every try, the woman swept her hands across the damp stone beneath her, trying to regain some sense of safety. Stability. But none of that would ever be found here.

It was cold, she noted, gathering herself onto her hands and knees. She needed to calm down, find out what was going on. Escape. She needed to think. He father trained her better than this.

She continued crawling around the floor, hands splayed out in front of her, until one smacked into something warm. Gasping, she tentatively felt around, discovering the object to be another human. A male, she figured, the strong jaw being the main indicator.

It hit her suddenly, like a truck, as the male woke, groaning in pain. She remembered what happened. But how? How was she alive? How was he? They died. There was no getting around death like that. Nothing could've prevented their fall. But her son! Oh, where was her son!? Had he survived with them, or did he even fall at all? He was so little, her poor baby. She'd left him all alone. He couldn't have fallen, there was no way. Not her little Robin.

She moved towards the male as he started to mumble, his panic starting to settle just as hers had. She shushed him, remaining close while mumbling soft words. A door creaked open nearby, and a bright light blinded the pair.

"Ah, it's good to see you both are finally awake," A shadowed figure spoke, the light making it impossible to see any distinctive features. "Tell me, does anything feel broken? Fractured?" He asked, a slight accent hardening his words, followed by twisted curiosity. He sounded as though he was struggling to hold back a laugh.

"It is imperative that we know before we freeze you. It wouldn't do well for me if you aren't useful when the time comes," he added, coming further into the room, but keeping a position in which his face remained in the shadows.

The man and woman both shook their heads, confused as to what was exactly going on. Who was this man? All they wanted to do was escape. Maybe if they went along with him, an opportunity would present itself.

"Good," The man replied cheerfully, in a creepy, almost manic way, "Now that introductions are out of the way, let us go to your new 'chambers'," he hesitated on the word, still unsure of what the Grandmaster wanted them to be called.

"Follow me," he grinned widely. This would be quite interesting.

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Floating. Twirling, twisting, tumbling, was the object, like a feather caught in a slight breeze. Peaceful and calm, a mother's touch embraced it. This object, curling in this makeshift wind, a spirit. A soul finally laid to rest, dancing in joy, something that it had forgotten long ago.

But something was wrong, the air changed harshly, and began to bite and nip at the soul. Tearing it to small, jagged pieces. But why? What had it done wrong?

Foggy and cold, the air turned dark. Something was cold. So very cold, and yet, the spirit continued, -determined- fumbling through the flaming hoops that showed to test it. And the burning, suddenly, it was all burning. The breeze, the fog, the feather. Everything was on fire. Searing the spirit and dropping it from the winds careful grasp.

It was falling, fast and steady. There was no getting around it this time, no wind to come to save it. The spirit trembled, watching as the ground approached much too quickly.

It hit the ground, hard. And it hurt, oh did it hurt. The spirit screamed in agony, but no sound came out, never had a sound come out before. It curled into itself, the spirit, consumed by the flames that had followed in its speedy descent.

Why was the spirit always falling?

Quickly as the air had changed, he woke, eyes flying in every direction as breath caught in his throat. It had happened again. It always did.

Dick heaved, the burning sensation just now starting to fade. This was his least favorite part of being a Talon. The resurrection.

Taking controlled breaths, Dick took in his surroundings, noticing that he was laid out onto a bed with a thin white sheet covering his body. His shirt was gone, and the blood that should cover his body had gone with it. Dick sat up and swung his feet over the edge. Where had Jason gone? Where was Deathstroke?

He sprung to his feet suddenly and stood, wobbling a little for a moment. Where was Jason! Dick panicked and began tearing through the room, looking under the bed and in the closet. Finding nothing there, he rushed to the bathroom. Maybe Jason was in there?

Empty.

Dick's chest tightened and his throat closed up. Where was Jason?

He left the bedroom and soon entered the other rooms in the safe house. Just like the first, they were all empty. No sign of anyone. All the gear and clothes that had been there before were gone. It was empty. Jason wasn't here, so he must've left with Deathstroke. That was the only feasible conclusion. Jason left Dick.

No, Dick shook his head, a sudden sadness washing over him as his face fell, Jason had left Talon. He stood silently in the kitchen, staring at everything, yet nothing at all. It was obvious, now that Jay knew the truth, why would he want to stay with such a monster? Talon never should have kept it a secret. Secrets were bad. Secrets got people you cared about killed.

Dick dragged himself -slowly- back to the bedroom, not sure what to do next. He was alone again, naturally. Just like last time. He always ended up alone. It wasn't fair.

It was then -as he moped- that he noticed, resting casually on the nightstand, was his Talon costume in all its glory. Dick stared at it for a moment, contemplating. He knew what he needed to do. He finally had his next mission. After all, a Talon never broke its promise.

He would find Jason and Deathstroke, whether they wanted him to or not.

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The Mountain was a mess. It had been a few days since Nightwing and Red Hood escaped and trying to fix all the damage had turned into a grueling process. Everyone was to busy trying to find the pair, that anything having to do with the word 'repair' had been set on the backburner.

Robin sighed and watched the same video feed play out for the hundredth time. He'd already been sitting here for three hours, watching the video of Nightwing and Red Hood fight everyone. Why Batman couldn't do this himself, he didn't know. Tim always got stuck with the lame jobs anyway.

Deciding to spice up his life a bit -and possibly get some good jokes- Tim turned on the security cameras Batman hooked up to the Lights main hideout. At least the one they knew about. Maybe something useful would happen that he could tell Batman about. Anything would be better than his current task.

Nothing happened. Not a single damn person showed up. Guess bad guys don't meet on Mondays. Tim groaned, he was so bored. Why did the Team get to go out on a patrol while he was stuck sitting here? He slouched further into his chair -nearly falling off- and reached to turn off the feed.

Before he could, a black and gold figure shot across his cameras, forcing Tim to do a double take as he shot up straight in his chair.

He knew that costume.

But the person that wore it was dead.

This was bad. He zoomed in and replayed that bit of footage, watching the figure float across in slow motion. Tim paused it when the figures whole body was in the frame.

He inhaled sharply. There was no mistaking it. The figure looked more ragged and the costume held fewer ornaments, but there was no mistaking it. He was back. Talon was alive.

Robin needed to tell Batman. No matter how much he wanted to keep it a secret, it was time. If Talon was back, then something bad was going to happen. Someone was going to die.

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They were sent to a meeting with the Light, only there to observe and collect data. They were not to be discovered, else their son would suffer, and they would never risk their son.

Husband and wife, frozen in time, hid away in the vents above the conference room, watching the members as they slowly began to trickle in.

Do this, the Court said, find our wayward Talon, bring it back, and we shall take you to see your son. Quid Pro Quo

They would find this Talon.

The meeting started not too long after the last seat had been filled. A few members were still missing they noticed, but the Light didn't seem to care. They began anyway.

Lex Luthor stood first, growling in anger, "Where is Deathstroke? The man called this meeting, why isn't he here?" He motioned around the room with his arms.

Klarion chuckled, petting Teekl softly, but provided no input, confusing the others.

"Deathstroke can wait," Vandal Savage pointed out, "We can use this sudden meeting to discuss more important matters at hand," He ended, keeping his voice even and calm. He couldn't stand half the people at this table.

It was silent for a few moments, everyone eying each other carefully. Something was off about this whole meeting, they could sense it.

Luthor, tired of the silence, asked again, "Well, I understand the need for updates, but why is the assassin here?" He grumbled, pointing towards Ra's al Ghul.

Ra's grunted, offended at the term 'assassin'. He was the Demon's Head, not a mere assassin, "It just so happens, Luthor, that I have some information regarding a certain something that your little group may find useful," he moved to leave, "But, it seems as though my information is not wanted here after all."

"Ra's, sit," Savage stated quickly, halting the older man, "You may share what you know."

"Very well." Ra's sat back down.

The door creaked, halting Ra's before he'd even opened his mouth. The members looked towards the door, expecting Deathstroke to come crawling in, last minute, like usual.

Klarion began to laugh, full-blown and obnoxious, "I knew it! I knew they'd finally send us one! Teekl look!"

A man walked in, adorned in a sleek, black bodysuit, covered head to toe in different forms of weaponry. He moved gracefully, not making a sound as his boots landed on the tile. Stopping at the head of the table, he bowed deeply, ornaments tinkling quietly, and stood, waiting to address the members at the table.

Ra's stiffened, knowing what stood before them. But why was it here? The Court didn't deal in things like this. They never had before.

Luthor crossed his arms, "And who might you be?" He asked, reverting back into full business mode, ready to single his guards at the slightest provocation.

The man didn't reply, instead, he walked, ever quiet towards Savage, producing a white envelope hidden somewhere in his suit, and placed it in front of the man.

The envelope was simple, no writing was on the front, but it was sealed in red wax, with the crest of an owl hiding in the middle.

Savage made no moves to touch it, knowing that something deadly could have been placed on the white paper. The owl was different though, he hadn't expected that. That being said, it still took quite a lot to surprise him nowadays.

"Open it," Savage commanded to the man, gesturing with his head, "Read it."

The man, -boy- Savage noted as he looked at him more closely, picked the envelope back up, opened it with a sharpened claw, and pulled out a black piece of paper, covered in white writing. Along with the paper, a long, milky colored feather floated to the floor.

"I knew it," Ra's hissed, standing up, "You're going to have to read it for yourself, Savage," Ra's spoke angrily, "His kind are not permitted to speak for themselves."

The boy placed the paper down in front of Savage after glancing at Ra's. Nervous perhaps? He then moved back, stopping only when his back was a few inches from the wall. He observed the room as the letter was read.

Savage stood and started reading the paper, skimming it briefly for a moment, "Members of the Light," He began, "We send to you our greatest weapon, the Talon," Savage stopped and everyone looked towards the boy in the corner, "There are no other tools like it. Strike it down, and it shall rise. Cast it away, and it shall return. It shall obey," Savage paused, casting a glance at the faces of those around him. All contained a thoughtful look.

"We give this to you because we want to join your little crusade. It has been brought to our attention, as your group continues to grow, that it would be in our best efforts to join. So, as a sign of good faith, we send to you our Talon, to command and help further your goals as you see fit. Signed," Savage took a breath, "The Court of Owls."

Up in the vents, the forgotten pair couldn't believe their luck. The wayward Talon was right in front of them! They knew that the letter was a fake. The Court would never join this disaster of a group. In fact, they sought to eradicate them.

The woman motioned with her hand towards her husband. The signal to leave.

The pair made their way out of the building, leaving just as they had entered. Silent. Finally, when they made it outside, they spoke freely.

"John, did you see him! That's our target! He's so close," She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls her feet, the excitement in her voice hard to hide.

John placed his hands on her shoulders, doing he best to stop her bouncing, "I know Mary," He assured, trying to hide his own, very similar, joy, "We'll get him, and then, we'll get our boy," he smiled, bright and wide, almost identical to his son's.

Mary's smile fell at the mention of their child. She dropped her head, "Do you think he'll hate us?" She asked, suddenly self-conscious, "He should be around seventeen now, right? I wonder who little Dickie looks like more?" Mary joked half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood again, "The great John Grayson, or his beautiful mother Mary?" She laughed, twirling around in a circle.

John laughed and pulled his wife into an embrace, their excitement over meeting their son again overwhelming. Finally together, they tried not to think about how he'd react. They'd been 'dead' for the same amount of time he'd been parentless. Just how would Dick take it?

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Well, here's another chapter. What do you think?

Any favorite parts? Characters? Lines or scenes? Let me know! 

Anybody want to guess what's going to happen next??

Anyway, that's all for now.

Til next time,

Rachel