Dick's POV:

When I arrived at Gotham Academy and found that Damian and Sasha weren't waiting for me outside, I knew something was wrong.

When I noticed the mysterious absence of students and teachers on the school campus, I also knew something was wrong.

And then, when I made my way toward the library and found that the window had been smashed inwards with some sort of miniature explosive, I most definitely knew that something was very, very wrong.

"Bruce..." I spoke into the phone, my worried tone telling him everything he already needed to know. It was fifteen past five, and I was meant to be driving the two young teens home by now.

He paused, and I could practically hear the glare in his eyes. "What happened?"

I didn't know exactly, but I had my suspicions, and I knew that he shared those exact suspicions.

"They're gone," was all I said.

Silence for a minute. I almost thought he'd hung up.

"Talia," Bruce's voice cut through the air like the worlds sharpest blade; a deep and frightening growl.

Not even ten minutes later, we were clambering into the seats of the Batwing, fully dressed and ready to launch some kind of assault on Bruce's ex-girlfriend and her army.

Tim and Jason had hurried over in an instant, knowing that whenever there was an emergency involving Damian and his mother, it was serious.

Dead serious.

We'd been in this situation many times before. Talia had tried to influence her son in the past by showing up out of nowhere and launching a surprise attack on him during the middle of the night. Usually, she'd just come to check up on him, or to try and lure him away from Bruce and the superhero life.

Hell, she'd even tried to get Deathstroke to kill me for "corrupting" Damian. For turning him "good," or whatever the hell her reasons where. But she'd never actually kidnapped him before, or atleast definitely not successfully.

Plus, Sasha was with her. And what on earth could she possibly want with her?

"Deathstroke," Batman informed me, eyes glued to the front window as the jet sped like lightning through the air.

"What do you mean?" Jason questioned from the back. "I thought Talia hated him."

"They're working together," Bruce said. "He's been helping her rebuild the League. Whether she hates him or not is irrelevent. She's using him as an ally, for now, and he wants Sasha back."

I was so confused. "But where are they taking them?"

"Where do you think?" Tim chimed in, being the insanely smart little detective that he was. "Obviously back to the league. they've got it up and running again and they want their psycho assassin kids to join them there."

Jason muttered, "And here I was thinking our family was complicated."

"Yeah, well, speak for yourself. it was date night for me and Kori again. Why is that you guys always end up kidnapped when i'm meant to be with her?"

"Oh, so you think you're the only one with plans tonight? Jason began. "Bro, I was meant to be at fight club an hour ago."

All heads turned his way as Tim and I's voices spoke in unison, "What?"

"Stay focused," Bruce snapped, causing us to stiffen at the harshness in his tone. I knew he was stressed -- I was good at reading him like that. I'd known him the longest out of all my brothers and sisters, which gave me an advantage of sorts. I knew when he was in a good mood or a bad one. The rest just had to hope for the best.

Tim was making a tutting noise from behind. I glanced at him, noticing his disposition as he glanced out of the rear window.

What is going on in his mind right now?

Clearly thinking the same thing as me, Jason spoke up, "What is it, smart-ass?"

Tim just rolled his eyes. "I'm just annoyed. Why do we go running after the Demon Spawn like this every time some tiny thing goes wrong?"

I couldn't help but scoff at him. "I'd hardly call this tiny."

He just glared. "You know what I mean, Dick. The kid's a psychopath. He's tried to kill me, what, eight times? Nine times?"

Tim leaned forward so that he was closer to the cockpit. "Bruce, how many times has Damian stabbed me? You know, successfully."

Bruce shifted slightly, eyes never leaving the view before him. "Not now, Tim."

But the boy let out a groan. "Oh, come on. I know that you know the exact number. Don't even try to lie."

I pinched the bridge of my nose at the tone Tim was using with Bruce. He was in one of his self-righteous moods, where he needed to prove himself correct no matter what -- even if it meant stirring up tension.

Bruce let out a small grunt, and for a moment I thought he might turn around and deck my brother in the face.

But instead, the man's jaw clenched. "I believe it was nine."

Jason rolled his eyes dramatically as Tim spread his arms wide and glanced back and forth at us. "See? What did I say? What did I fucking say?"

"We get it," I sighed, feeling exasperated as anger began to boil under my skin.

But Tim wasn't done yet. "You know what, I have a serious question. When I get stuck in deep shit, do you guys pile into the batwing and come soaring after me? Do you? No, you don't. When Jason literally died, did we all jump up immediately and go running after him this quickly? Um, no, I don't think we did."

I felt myself flinch at his words, noticing Jason do the same in the corner of my eye. The whole situation that went down with him was still a sensitive topic. Jason suffered pretty severe PTSD from that event, even though he made an effort of pretending that he didn't. But we all knew that he was deeply scarred.

"Do you ever shut up?" Jason was suddenly saying, and I knew before it had even begun that a fight was most likely going to break out.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for not letting them walk over you like they've been doing to me for years," Tim's reply dripped with sarcasm. "Shouldn't you be agreeing with me? Don't tell me you don't think Damian gets more attention than we ever will."

This time I cut in, "Tim, he's only a child. You know how messed up his past is."

Tim sat back against his seat and scowled, looking at me like I was crazy.

"Only a child?" He began. "He's killed more people than most criminal adults ever will. Why do we throw ourselves under the bus for him every time he drags us into his family shit? This has nothing to do with any of us, Dick. We're not even related to him. He's not one of us, and he never will be. For all we know he's probably having the time of his life back at the league, back where he truly belongs with all his serial killer buddies. At least there he can slaughter as many innocent people as he likes."

Very suddenly, the batwing came to a powerful halt, the gush of wind from it's speed sending the water beneath us outwards in mini tidal waves. We all lurched forward in our seats, the straps holding us in only just managing to stop us from catapulting through the windscreen.

Bruce turned his head ever so slowly to face us. It was the first time he'd properly given his sons any recognition in the past hour. His cowl and batsuit made him look even more terrifying, and the dark lighting of the night sky almost gave him a horror-movie like appearance.

"That's enough," his voice was a deep, heavy set growl. It rumbled through my bones and sent a cold sensation throughout my spine.

Bruce continued, "Damian is one of us now. He will be treated equally and without prejudice. If I so much as hear one more complaint out of either of your mouths, I won't hesitate to relieve you of your evening duties this instant."

Silence for a moment, which was then followed by the one, frightening word, "Permanently."

That shut everyone up for the rest of the trip.

————————

Sasha's P.O.V:

My body ached from hours of intense training and labor. I hadn't worked this hard since my old days at Midnight. I was miserable.

"Why are you making me do this?" I muttered, trying to veil the pain in my voice as I spoke.

Storm was watching intently as I fumbled my way up an opposing brick wall — at least ten times my height — with a bag of rocks hanging from my back. It was agony, the huge weight pulling down my small frame with every movement I made. The bag had to weigh atleast 40 pounds.

Just like old times, I couldn't help but realize.

Just like Midnight.

I reached up one more time, my fingers scraping against the dusty yellow brick of the LOA's temple-like headquarters. I was pretty sure this wall lead up to some of the assassin's dorms. The thought of having to climb any higher than where I was now at halfway made me want to cry.

I grunted heavily as I yanked myself up, fingernails digging into the crumbling wall, loose dust falling into my eyes. Moving my foot, I attempted to hook it into a small gap twenty inches up.

Nearly there, nearly there, I lied to myself.

Heaving my body toward my hand, I moved my other arm up again and felt around for an opening. But there was nothing to hold onto, and soon enough my already weakened muscles were contracting, and my bicep had relaxed so much that my forearm now did nothing and I fell down, down, down to the hard, clay floor.

I laid their paralyzed, my mind a blur as the view before me swayed and swirled in my vision. How high had I fallen? Maybe 30 feet? Probably more?

I was on my side, the bag of hell still strapped to my back but lying limp beside me. Thank god I hadn't fallen directly onto it; surely I would've snapped my back in half. It would have been excruciatingly painful.

Cheshire came in my line of sight, three pairs of feet formed by my confused and disorientated brain. She perched down in front of me and tilted her head to the side.

"Wow, you really are completely worthless," she simply said, as if it was just a mere fact.

I only blinked, unable to comprehend her insults at that moment. I was still trying to breathe properly, still trying to process my thoughts. My head was pounding from the impact of the fall and my limbs were bruised and battered. I had sparred twenty-four other ninjas in the past two days and my body was utterly broken. If it wasn't for the extensive medical care my father made his servants perform on me every evening, then I would've been dead by now.

And Damian. I hadn't seen Damian in two days. What the hell were they doing to him?

"You're out of shape," Storm was now telling me, his boot nudging my side and causing me to wince painfully.

That seemed to be enough proof to him that i was still alive and functioning, because he gripped me by the arm and yanked me to my feet violently.

"Get up."

Body limp, I fell to my knees almost instantly. Cheshire sent her hand to my face. The action was too quick for me to react to in my dazed state.

She spat, "He said get up."

I wanted to drive my sword into her heart right then and there, but i didn't have the strength for it. Instead, I forced myself to move, to stand up somehow, despite my trembling bones.

Ubu glared down at me. "Your father said this might happen. He trained you well, yet you've forgotten all of it in the weeks you were under the spell of America's mainstream society. I'm disgusted beyond measure."

Huh, I couldn't help but think. Now I know why Damian talks so formally. Everyone here does.

When I didn't reply quick enough due to the fact that my jaw was probably broken, Ubu's frown deepened.

"Answer me, child."

What did he want me to say? Thank you? Love you too?

"Fuck..."  I managed to splutter, pulling my arm up to his eye level and holding out the middle finger. I bared my teeth in a weak but bitter smile, hoping it showed some kind of bravery on my behalf. "...You."

But that was a huge mistake.

Now I was being dragged by my arms toward what most called the pit of death, as i'd heard other students discussing. A hole in the far corner of the headquarters, at least 30 or 40 feet deep.

They dangled me over the edge, me kicking and screaming and yelling every curse word I knew.

"Put me down! Put me down! I'll tell my father! I'll tell my fucking father!"

Cheshire stepped forward, sending me a cold smile through her amazingly white teeth.

"Give me one good reason why I should," she spoke with a hint of a laugh.

Storm was the one holding me, clutching me by the front of my robes just far enough out that my feet were scraping against the ledge and i could feel the absence of ground below me.

I clawed at his arm, desperately holding on for dear life. "You can't do this to me!" I snarled into Cheshire's pretty face. "If I die from the fall, Slade will kill you."

But the woman just smiled once more. "Well that's the thing, Sasha. No one dies from the fall. They die from their fear, whether that be of the endless darkness surrounding them of the impossibility if climbing back up un-scathed."

I risked a glance below me and felt my gut churn. She was right, the view was pitch black beneath my feet and the thought of ending up down their made me want to throw up aggressively.

"Please," my voice was now a pathetic whimper, the sound of it disgusting even myself. But I had no other choice then to beg, no matter how degrading it was.

"Please, don't let me die. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Cheshire's gaze remained unwavering, and for a solid second I thought she would order Storm to drop me to my death.

But a voice interrupted us, one that could only be traced to the one and only Talia Al Ghul.

"Let her go," she spoke softly, and I twisted and craned my neck to try and find the woman behind those words.

My eyes landed on a slim figure standing toward the main entrance of the temple. Talia rested a hand on her hip and sent me a smile. "I have my own plans for Sasha. She'll be coming with me, thank you."

My "trainers" looked perplexed, but saw the number of guards standing dauntingly around Talia and ultimately lowered me back to the safety of the ground. I sprawled to the floor, arms and legs still shaking from fear. Everything hurt like hell, and my heart was racing from how close to dying I was.

Talia gestured inside. "Come, child."

Whatever she wanted, surely it couldn't have been worse than the pit. I scrambled to my feet and ran toward my captor as fast as I could.

It was at that moment that I truly, truly realized how badly I wanted my normal life back.

————————

We were in an arena. It was like something out of that Gladiator movie that Jason made me watch with him. It was huge in size, and appeared to be structured like a modern-day football stadium, only it was built out of ancient materials and sported dirt in the center rather than lush grass.

My father stood dead in the middle, mask off and eyes locked on mine. I tried to look away, but I couldn't stop myself from staring at him. It had been a while since I'd gotten a good glance at him.

He looked healthier than ever. And that was alarming in so many ways.

"Sasha," he said, giving a nod of recognition.

I swallowed hard. "Father."

Talia was smiling brightly beside me. "Where is my beloved son?" She said, scanning the small group of ninjas and assassin around us. They varied in ages, each wearing the same robes as myself, only with the hoods up and mouth and nose covered.

"I will slaughter both you and your pathetic excuse of a family without a second of hesitation, you unworthy snake!" Someone was yelling, their voice growing closer and closer.

Damian was being carried by four men, each extremely large in and scary in size yet still seeming to struggle with keeping the fourteen-year old boy contained.

Damian was kicking and thrashing, their grips on his arms loosening by the second. He managed to get one leg free and fling it up to the face of the man to his left. The assassin fell back, letting Damian's arm go, and before anyone could have time to react, Damian was delivering a lethal right hook to the other guy's face.

I risked a glance at Talia, knowing she was probably fuming. I feared what she would do to her son if she managed to contain him once more.

But the woman was just smiling, her lips twitching ever so slightly as her gaze remained on him. I realized that she wasn't mad at Damian: no, she was proud. She was proud at the aggression her son was showing, at the pure rage and violence.

Barely five seconds passed before all the guards were rolling on the floor, howling in pain. The surrounding assassins looked surprised and unsure how to act. They were too slow to stop him, too slow to prevent the deadly raven-haired boy from snatching up the nearest ninja's katana and running straight toward his mother.

"Talia!" Damian was roaring, knocking her to the floor with a blow to her stomach before pressing his boot to her neck and pointing the tip of his sword to her cheek.

Talia chuckled hoarsely, clearly experiencing some pain from the attack and from the weight on her throat.

"You never cease to surprise me, my boy."

His blade inched further, his scowl deepening. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end your miserable life right here and now."

But Talia only smiled once more. "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to let you decide my fate so easily, Damian?"

I sensed a presence behind me and whipped myself around. But I was too late, an assassin was already injecting some sort of liquid through a needle in my neck.

I dropped to my knees, stunned, head already feeling dizzy. My stomach flipped and my vision spun.

What the fuck is happening? Why are they doing this to me?

"Sasha..." Damian's voice broke with concern. "Sasha, are you okay?"

Slade looked furious from where he stood 30 feet away, but I soon saw multiple assassins appear out of nowhere beside him, placing a similar needle to his throat before he could attack them.

Oh, Talia.

I should've seen this coming.

My hair hung around me in a curtain, sticking to my face as sweat formed on my cheeks. It was becoming very hot all of a sudden, for reasons I could not give. My mouth felt dry and my body started to shake. I clutched at the ground, trying to keep myself upright. It wasn't working.

Damian yelled at his mother, "What have you done to her?"

Talia replied, her voice raspy, "Blackmail, my darling son. It appears you've grown somewhat... close to Slade's daughter. Since you are refusing to cooperate with me, I've taken matters into my own hands."

Her laugh filled the air around me, disorientating me. Everything was ringing, everything was burning. I was feeling myself drift out of consciousness.

"Maybe now you'll listen a little more closely to what I have to say, yes?" Talia told him, and even in my state I knew that she was smiling smugly.

"I mean, you wouldn't want anything to happen to poor Sasha here, would you? And without her idiotic father around to stop me, I can do whatever I please."

Damian let out a low growl. "Really, mother? Blackmail's a little degrading for you, isn't it? I thought you were above torture techniques of this simplicity."

Two hands gripped my by the waist and hoisted me over a broad shoulder. Though I could hardly see anything, I knew it was one of the surrounding guards.

"Perhaps," Talia only shrugged. "But I'd remove that sword from my face now, Damian. Unless you'd like a demonstration on just how simplistic my torture can be."

My mind darkened, and before I knew it I was swallowed by an abyss of blackness.

yooo i finally updated, sorry not much has happened but like i said i am splitting everything up into multiple chapters so stay tuned! shit will get exciting!