Fighting after getting a lecture from Batman was sooooo not whelming. Apparently, he needs to "reel in" his team more. Well, sorry that they aren't a team with sticks up their asses like the Justice League. At least the Team could laugh in public. They were teenagers. It's what they do, dumbasses.

Robin punched another thug and flip kicked another. This was just getting too easy. That thought was banished from his mind as he felt the air move behind him. Thinking quickly, he launched himself over the thug he was about to punch, subsequently pushing the unfortunate thug into the line of fire from Bane's fist.

A sick crack was heard as the thug flew to the side, arms flailing like a rag doll. Robin knew the sound of a snapping neck. That thug was dead before he hit the wall. Robin turned, not wanting to give his back to a villain that was about 100 times stronger than him as long as the Venom was pumping through his veins. As Bane took another swing at him, Robin back flipped out of the way. He landed in a crouch and looked up to analyze his surroundings.

The rest of the team were fighting various levels of henchmen. Kid Flash was slumped against the wall, his right leg bent at an awkward angle, eyes closed and arms limp at his sides. Artemis' bow string was cut, presumably by one of the thugs' knifes, and she was fighting hand to hand against multiple assailants. Her back was to Kid Flash, defending the injured speedster until the fight could be won. Miss Martian was laying unconscious on the floor, flickering in and out of the visible spectrum. Kaldur was kneeling next to her, murmuring in Atlantean, the mysterious tattoos on his arms glowing as he held his hands over her. Superboy was defending the two metas using a useful tactic of throwing any hostile that came at him like a bowling ball, forcing that thug to bowl over some of his allies. Robin thought it was pretty funny. Too late, he sensed a shift in the wind and realized that he had zoned out of the fight. He stumbled backwards, trying to avoid getting hit with a fist that had the strength of Superman. A full strength hit from Bane could kill fully grown men. A skinny, yet muscular thirteen year old? Most def. There was no doubt about it.

He wasn't fast enough.

The blow hit his right shoulder as he leaned backwards to avoid the strike. A shock wave went through his arm as the bones rattled and the muscles stretched. A pop was heard as his shoulder popped out of place. He was sent rocketing in the other direction, twisting with his arm flying uselessly at his side. He yelled as his head collided with the wall. He vaguely heard glass breaking and someone calling out his name. He cursed himself as he struggled to his hands and knees amidst the stars in his eyes. Suddenly, he was tackled from behind and he felt the tension in the air thicken to the point of suffocation.

All the henchmen were taken down. Amid the chaos, Kid Flash had woken up and Artemis was setting his bone. Miss Martian looked weak but was on her feet. Kaldur and Conner were a little worse for wear but nothing too serious.

It was at this point that Robin realized that he was wrapped protectively in strong, muscular arms in an almost fatherly embrace.

Oh no.

That could only mean one thing.

He stiffened slightly as he craned his neck backwards to look at his savior. His blood ran cold when he saw the orange and black two toned mask of his father, Deathstroke the Terminator.

He grunted in surprise and tried his best to extract himself from his father's grasp. When the mercenary showed no signs of wanting to let him go, Robin spoke.

"What are you doing here?" He spoke in a whisper, soft and rushed. A single vivid blue eye looked down at him with something akin to amusement, concern flickering through every once in a while.

"I was in the area." The man replied dryly while helping the younger male to his feet while everyone froze in astonishment. Sure, there was a lot of vigilante to vigilante teamwork, even though they weren't working for the same organization. But there was nothing to this level. A villain helping a hero? That was practically unheard of. What made the current situation stranger was that Deathstroke wasn't acting as though it was a simple contract. He acted as though this was personal.

XXXXXXX

Artemis knew as soon as the mercenary came crashing in through the skylight that something was up. The whole Team was about to figure something out, something was about to be revealed. The shit was about to hit the fan. Even Bane froze. He seemed as confused as they all were with the current situation.

"Well, well, look what we have here." Bane's sentence won everyone's attention. "Un padre y un hijo." Artemis (along with Wally) sent a startled look towards the fallen bird. A scowl was on his face and he was glaring darkly at their enemy. Ironically, an almost identical look was being sent by Deathstroke. Artemis put two and two together and almost laughed at the situation they were currently in. Her teammate was the son of the deadliest mercenary in the world. Robin, protege to the Caped Crusader of Gotham, was Deathstroke the Terminator's son.

It was positively hysterical.

The standoff didn't last for long. The mercenary and his son quickly recovered their wits. Robin swiftly popped his shoulder back into place without so much as a wince. Deathstroke slowly drew a bo staff from his belt and extended it fully, crouching into a ready position. Robin stretched his arm and drew a few discs from his utility belt, readying himself. Mercenary and vigilante nodded to each other before springing into action.

They fought in perfect sync. Robin went left, Deathstroke went right. They never got in each other's way, they only worked together to cripple the ginormous man in from of them. Deathstroke attacked head on, his bo staff a blur as he struck the addict over and over. Even with his enhanced strength, the hits were little more that bee stings. But it was more than enough for Robin.

He let his discs fly, each one of the severing a different tube, essential to Bane's seemingly unlimited strength. The thick red liquid that gave Bane his powers rushed out of the severed tubes and onto the floor, some of it getting in the addict's eyes. He stumbled around, hands no longer trying to land hits on the deadly duo, too preoccupied with trying to rid the source of his blindness.

Robin jumped in the fight, pulling his escrima sticks out of his utility belt. He pressed a button on the pieces of metal and a glow lit up his face. Pure white electricity laced the top of the escrima sticks, giving the bird's face an eerie glow. He rushed forward, lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes narrowed in a deadly glare. He somersaulted into the air, swinging his leg around and hitting Bane in his left temple. The hit sent him right into Deathstroke's staff. That hit sent him into Robin's electricity-charged escrima sticks. Soon, the Team was watching in awe as the father and son duo hit the 9 foot 2 inch tall man, who weighed almost 500 pounds, between them, making the addict look as though he was watching a very, very aggressive game of ping pong.

Blood was running down the latino's face and suddenly, he didn't look so invincible anymore.

He had shrunk down to about 5 foot 6. Still taller than Robin (who was only about 5 feet), but definitely not taller than the most dangerous mercenary alive. Artemis had a sudden thought strike her head. How tall was Deathstroke? Like 6 and a half feet? Artemis snorted. Robin had a long was to go if he ever wanted to be close to his father's height.

Speaking of the young bird, he and Deathstroke were currently finishing up their fight with Bane. Deathstroke somersaulted over Bane's sloppy right hook. He pivoted as soon as his feet touched the ground, swinging his staff at the same time. The mercenary's staff hit the back of Bane's knee, forcing him into a kneeling position. Robin danced around Bane's punches as he wacked the addict in pressure points throughout his body, the electricity making his body spasm randomly.

Deathstroke now had Bane in a headlock, holding the flailing limbs at bay for the young acrobat to make the finishing blow.

XXXXXXX

Robin sprung into action, his thumb hitting the on button again on his escrima sticks. Instead of the electricity vanishing, however, it grew more powerful. A powerful 'snap hiss' permeated the air and the same thought occurred to everyone at the same time. Robin had just turned the voltage up. The acrobat jumped into the air and twisted. He switched his grip on his right escrima stick so he had the top of it by his elbow. He brought his left escrima stick to the top of Bane's head. Hard. The addict's chin hit Deathstroke's arm (as he did still have him in a headlock).

His right escrima stick, however, was aimed at Bane's left temple. He had one chance to get this right. Too soft and the addict could remember that he and Deathstroke were father and son. Too hard and he could fracture his skull and there was no way that paramedics were gonna get here in time to save the criminal's life. So in other words: too soft and his identity as Deathstroke's son is out; too hard and he kills him. If he's able to calculate it right, though, Bane will only have slight amnesia. He won't remember the last 2 hours. That's all he needed.

As his last escrima stick made contact with Bane's flesh, he pushed the electricity to maximum for a split second, then quickly brought it back down to normal.

Bane went down without any more fuss, smoke slowly curling from the left side of his face, where small burns were visible. Meanwhile, Robin landed in a crouch, his right hand by his chin and his left by his side.

Deathstroke wasted no time in putting handcuffs on the downed muscle.

Robin slowly stood from his crouched position and extinguished the electricity flowing through this escrima sticks. He strapped them back to the back of his utility belt, where it was covered by his cape. He sent a wary glance to where the rest of his team was. M'gann and Conner looked confused. Kaldur looked stoic. Wally just looked hungry. Artemis...

Robin stopped as he examined the female archer's face.

Her expression was unreadable. There were a million emotions raging in her steel grey eyes yet her face remained calm. Her lips were slightly parted as she examined him. Sizing him up. No doubt his danger rate had just increased. The son of the most deadly mercenary in the world has got to be a threat. Robin could practically see the gears turning in Artemis' head.

She looked away first. She cleared her throat and shifted her steely gaze toward his father.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Robin nearly scoffed. Of course she knew him. Who didn't know the name Deathstroke? Speaking of the devil, the mercenary chuckled.

"Yes, you do. Although the last time I saw you, you were about 4." Robin nearly chocked on his breath. His father knew Artemis before he even knew him! What a concept!

He knew, of course, that it made sense. Lawrence Crock and Slade Wilson would have had to cross paths at some point in their careers. While Slade didn't know about his son yet, Lawrence lived in the same house with his two daughters. Of course he would've brought them along on missions or when he couldn't find a sitter. That must've been when Slade had met a baby Artemis.There was a good chance he had met Jade, too. Probably before she donned her 'Cheshire' persona!

"When was that?" Artemis had her head cocked to the side. Robin knew that under her mask, her eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. He doubted that she remembered anything from when she was four.

Slade cast a cautious look over the team, as if asking for permission to reveal her... ahem, family business.

Artemis, catching his drift, shook her head ever so slightly. You would've missed it if you weren't looking for it. Slade nodded curtly.

"I believe both you and your sister were there." He said vaguely.

"Why would you think that?" Artemis asked, suspicion sneaking into her voice. His mentioning her sister must've set off alarms bells in her head.

"Because that amount of dolls couldn't have possibly belonged to one person." Slade chuckled. Artemis's face flushed as she snorted lightly.

"Yeah, most of those dolls were my sister's." Her reply made Robin smirk and raise an eyebrow.

"Doesn't that mean some of them were yours?" He asked, a mischievous tilt to his voice. She gaped at him, sputtering excuses. She wasn't really known for being the girly type.

"W-well, I was only- I d-didn't have a-" Her eyes flitted around, seemingly looking for an answer to her predicament to appear out of thin air. Robin laughed lightly, trying to put the archer at ease. She relaxed slightly at the sound and a small smile sneaked its way onto her face. Robin's heart fluttered slightly and he blushed lightly. He broke eye contact, trying to look anywhere but the Team or his father, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well!" He said, perhaps a bit too quickly, clapping his hands together. "Better call the GCPD to pick up our perp." He turned toward his father again for confirmation. Mischief sparked in Slade's single eye.

"Uh-huh..." Slade said in disbelief. Sarcasm was practically dripping from his noncommittal answer. No doubt there was a shit-eating smirk on his face (Robin had the same smirk, he just refused to admit it). The next time they met up, he was going to be teased endlessly. Either that or there was going to be an uncomfortably awkward personal talk. Robin didn't know which one was worse.

Choosing to ignore the comment, Robin walked to the shrunken, unconscious Bane and picked him up effortlessly. Sure, he himself might be only about 100 pounds but he's bench pressed about 350 pounds on a good day. He had to train to make up for his short, lanky stature. Just doing curl ups with some weights wasn't going to help anyone, much less help him survive on the streets of Gotham.

He pulled out a small, grey comm unit that connected exclusively to Commissioner James Gordon. Gordon should consider himself a lucky man. A straight line to Robin was something most of the girls in Gotham would kill for (it actually happened once; don't ask). He pressed a black button on the side. Brief static filled the comm. Then, a gruff voice filtered through.

"This is Gordon." The slight grunt at the end of the sentence led the teenager to believe that it had already been a long night for the seasoned war veteran (anyone who says that Gotham isn't a war-zone is lying...).

"Wassup, Commish. How's your night going so far?" Gordon sighed softly.

"Depends on what you're calling for, son. What've you got for me?" Robin saw Slade bristle slightly as the word 'son' but he pushed it out of his mind. After sending a wary look to the older vigilante, Robin continued.

"Yeah, I've got a special delivery for you. One de-powered and shrunken Bane, just for you, Commissioner."

Pause.

"Alright, I'll go pick him up right now. What're your coordinates?"

"I'll send them right now."

Another pause.

"Alright. Say hi to the big guy for me." Robin smiled.

"Will do, sir." Robin shut off the comm unit with a beep. After some brief thinking, he dumped Bane unceremoniously on the floor. He wouldn't be needed for a while.

He connected his wrist computer to the almost invisible mini USB port on the comm. His holographic computer popped up and he typed away, sending his coordinates to the police commissioner. He pinged Gordon's location and saw that he was only about 10 minutes away. His heart sank. Slade would have to answer the Team's questions another time. Preferably one where they weren't on opposite sides of the battle field.

That's when Wally decided to run his mouth.