"Did you see that?" Wally exclaimed, gesturing over his shoulder to the hallway the visiting mercenary left through, green eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. "He totally dodged every question!"

Artemis put her hands on her hips, leaning slightly forward and giving a small glare to her speedster friend. "He was raised by Deathstroke, of course he's going to know how to dodge questions. He doesn't want to be here, if you hadn't already noticed."

"He did answer a few questions." M'gann pointed out, giving her own thoughtful glance to the young mercenaries room.

"But he confirmed what we already knew, he clearly does not want us learning anything more." Kaldur said, he turned to the martian. "Did his mind reveal anything?"

M'gann frowned and looked down, hesitant in her answer. "He- he did, but-"

"But what? Is he planning something?" Superboy asked with his arms folded, if it wasn't already clear he didn't like Renegade very much.

M'gann messes with the edge of her shirt, uneasy with the spotlight on her and because of the information she had to share. "Well, um, sort of."

"We need to know." Kaldur said, putting a hand on the martians shoulder.

She breathed out. "His mind is fragile." Everyone gave her a confused look, her mind feeling their combined force of confusion. "I didn't try to enter his mind because his mind was too chaotic, he's troubled, he's all mashed up inside. I didn't want to cause further damage, his thoughts are erratic and panicked. He doesn't want to be here any more than we want him here." She explained.

"So he's crazy?" Wally asked. Artemis seemed quiet in thought, looking down while Kaldur was intent on finding out more. Superboy didn't seem to change but he felt his attitude towards the mercenary was justified.

M'gann scrunched her nose, unsure of how to explain better. "No? Yes? There was stability in there, but it's cracked, crazy minds are chaotic and usually not many things are solid, his mind had too many solid things to be crazy, but they are cracking."

"So he used to be sane, but now he's insane?" Wally asked, trying to make sense of what the alien was saying.

"Not yet at least." M'gann said sadly.

"Wait wait wait, and you got all of this without going into his mind?" Wally asked, moving his arms in a 'slow down' motion, now he was kinda worried about the kid they were harboring. Crazy people were unpredictable, unstable, and anything could happen in a moments notice. Definitely not safe.

"His attempts to shield himself was more like a fence than a wall, a small see through fence. It could be temporary though, he seemed to be caught off guard by a Martian being here, he didn't prepare for a mental attack." M'gann said, looking down. "Even if he did know I was here he is in no state to defend himself mentally."

The team quieted in thought.

"So... the mission doomed?" Wally asked, looking up inquiringly and raising both eyebrows. He looked to each of the other members of his team, his sight lingering on the unnaturally quiet Artemis.

"I do not believe so." Kaldur started. "Perhaps if we were to offer our assistance in fixing whatever cracked his mind, he would be more open."

Artemis snorted, all eyes turned to her as she explained. "That's not going to work, at this point he probably knows we're trying to get information from him, he wouldn't allow himself to be 'fixed' if it also jeopardized himself."

"You seem to know a lot about him." Wally frowned, in fact, Artemis has been acting weird ever since Renegade showed up. She kept glancing at him weirdly, and sure they were all looking at him most of the time but there was something different about it when Artemis did it.

"There's more than enough mercenaries in Star City, I know a bit on how their minds work." Artemis said, taking the question in stride and folding her arms. "They all value their mission above themselves, so before we try and help him we should figure out his mission."

"Either way, we need to get closer to him." Kaldur said, he nodded to Artemis. "Thank you Artemis, any information you have on mercenaries would be helpful. M'gann, is there anything else notable about Renegades mental state that we should know?"

"Every time Deathstroke was mentioned, his mind seemed to crack a little more." M'gann said.

"So it's Deathstroke fault?" Wally asked.

M'gann winced, "Not exactly, it could mean Deathstroke was involved in the incident that cracked his mind but it doesn't mean he's responsible."

"So Deathstroke is a touchy subject, no wonder he dodged the questions." Wally muttered, folding his own arms and placing a hand on his chin.

"Thank you Miss Martian, if that is all I will go report to Batman now." Kaldur said, nodding to his teammate. M'gann shook her head and with that the Atlantean turned and left, the rest of the team still wondering about the broken mercenary.

"I still don't like him." Superboy said gruffly to the silent room.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Renegades body shook with silent sobs.

He hadn't moved from his crumpled form against the door, hugging onto his ratty stuffed elephant for dear life. He didn't dare take off his mask, security cameras and such, but he let the tears slip from underneath.

At this point he didn't know what he was crying about, it was all just too much.

Nothing was the same anymore, it felt like being thrown off the deep end into a pool of piranhas and sinking to the bottom 100 feet down.

Deathstroke was gone. He had to take orders from Batman now. He didn't bring his laptop so school was out of the question. His weapons were all taken. He was in an unfamiliar room. He had to deal with five kids he wanted nothing to do with. Almost literally everything normal was taken from him, everything but his own skin. That, and Peanut, his trusty stuffed animal that went through Hell with him. He didn't even have the kitchen, or his new motorcycle. Not even the pancakes... or the goldfish... the light dusting of dirt on the garage floor because Dick was too lazy to clean it. Or the cobwebs in the corner of the training room that grew so large that Dick was scared to even go near it in fear of Shelub.

Not to mention an entire person, a person who helped him with so many things in life Dick couldn't even begin to lecture on his gratitude for the man. He would miss the little things, the little huff Slade gave when he did something funny, or even annoying. The way they could communicate through facial expressions even when one of them wore a face plate. Sometimes during training Slade would sneak up on him and scare the crap out of him, it was the closest Slade got to joking, though every now and then they could get pretty good banter going. Even through all his training, Dick's heart still freaked out every time someone snuck up on him. That's why he was so adamant to try and sneak up on Slade, to see if he could get back at him and make him jump. It never worked, and it only made Renegade jealous. He was able to never make a sound, but his heart beat couldn't help but accelerate. It was fun to try though, a never ending jaunt.

All of that was gone.

He felt so stuck, he hated it.

But it felt good to cry.

It gave him a headache, made his face burn with hot tears, his limbs numb with emotion. But it felt good. It felt real.

He wanted Deathstroke back, he wanted Slade. He wanted to go back to the way things were, and forget everything that happened in the past few hours. He wanted so many things. Normalcy, his fa-mentor, his weapons, anything from his old life, even the Joker.

It made sense, yet no sense at all. He wanted to hate Deathstroke, but he couldn't bring himself to hate the man who gave him everything. Without Deathstroke, he would be in a much worse place. Much worse. It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about that place.

He recalled his patch job of an excuse when he needed to bar his mind from the team. Deathstroke knew what he was doing, he always did, this was no different. Deathstroke said he could handle it, it may be challenging, but he was handling it. Deathstroke needed him here, needed him here with no knowledge.

Renegade had no idea how long he'd be here, but he hoped it would end soon, he hoped he could find guidance. He felt lost. Sure Deathstroke wanted him here, but what was he supposed to do here? He was tired of the 'why' of the situation, he wouldn't get an answer, as there was no one to get an answer from. He had to accept that this was inevitable, he was here, there was nothing he could do about it.

But now that he's here, what was the plan?

The only thing Deathstroke had said to him besides 'take orders from Batman' was 'Your past is yours to do with, he cannot order you to share that which you do not desire to share.'

So, he was to keep his life story a secret... if he wanted to? So it was a possibility to share, but if he didn't want to, he didn't have to. Not even Batman could order him to share his past. Renegade wasn't even sure Batman understood the extent of his power over him, Batman could order him to do anything, and he'd do it. This thought was not comforting, he was only consoled by the fact Batman wasn't here.

Life, as he knew it, was forever changed. He didn't not want it, but it came. Life decided throw lemons back, and it hit him right in the heart.

But now what? What was he supposed to do here? How was he supposed to throw lemons back if they were now lodged in his chest? He needed a plan.

His heart still ached, a gaping hole where Slade had filled. His body still felt numb, the tears were still falling. He wanted to sleep, sleep off the pain until he could get a good grip on it, but that would be impossible without a weapon under his pillow. He couldn't sleep without one. A habit he didn't think would have any consequence in the future considering his occupation. He was paying dearly for it now.

He wanted the comforting feeling a weapon in his hand gave him, it gave him confidence he could escape if he were attacked at night. In both mental, and physical worlds.

Dick shot up screaming. His body was on fire and his heart was racing out of his chest. Tears were tumbling down his face as he cradled his knees to his chest, burying his head in his knees and sobbed. The comforters of his bed were tossed to the side in his scramble, wrinkled and slightly damp with sweat.

The closed door swung open, letting light fill the room and land on the suffering child. Slade stood in the doorway, observing for a moment before steeping inside carefully. He approached slowly, knowing full well what the boy had dreamed about.

"Dick," he tried to get the boys attention "you're not there remember? I'm Slade, you live with me, not them." The mercenary whispered, putting a gentle hand out to the shaking boy.

Dick cried out when the man's hand touched his back, Slade withdrew his hand and instead sat on the bed in front of the crying child, the cushion dipping with his weight.

"Dick, I'm not going to hurt you." He tried again.

The child only cried, his face red and his hair a mess, although half of it stuck to his forehead, the ebony strands slick with sweat.

"Dick I want you to look at me." Slade said seriously, narrowing his eye to the boys huddled form. "I won't ask again."

It took a few moments but the boys head rose, sniffing and whipping the tears from his pink eyes. Slade could see how much he was trying not to cry, his face was an unnatural shade of red and his eyes all puffed up from stopped tears.

His blue orbs clashed with the pink and red, looking almost sickly. Slade kept the boys gaze, making sure he didn't go back under to the nightmare the boy just escaped.

"Dick, it's alright to cry when bad things happen." Slade said softly, he held a hand out to the boy.

Dick stared at the hand for a moment before unraveling his curled form to climb into Slades lap, looping his spindly arms around the man's middle. Slade froze for a moment, still startled and not quite used to the boys use of contact as comfort. Slade wrapped his arms around the boy, gently shifting to a more comfortable position for both him and the child. The boy shook in his arms, sobbing on his chest and tears leaking into his shirt.

"It's alright Dick, you're safe." He rubbed the boys back, the child tightening his grip on the mercenary and cuddling closer.

They stayed like that for awhile, every now and then Slade muttered comforts and at one point leaned over to grab the boys discarded stuffed animal Peanut.

Finally Dick let go and settled to just cuddling on Slades lap, no longer crying but sniffing in and letting the silent tears slip.

Slade sighed and reached into his back pocket. Dick looked up curiously at the movement, hopping he wasn't discomforting the man by his closeness. Slade brought out a small blade.

"Here, hold this."

Dick was confused, but reached out anyway, he grabbed the hilt and looked up, wondering what he was supposed to do with it.

"When the nightmares come back, you can hurt them." He explained, "they won't want to take you back if you can hurt them."

Dicks eyes widened as he stared at the blade in wonder, this would make them go away?

"Just be careful you don't hurt yourself." Slade said, watching the boy drag the blade closer to his person.

Dick nodded, making sure to grip the knife with both hands now, keeping Peanut between his arms.

"Think you can go back to sleep?"

Dick looked up wearily, but then looked down to the knife in his hand and nodded.

"Alright, I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." Slade slid the boy off and walked to the door, he looked back once to see the boy still staring at the knife when he closed the door, shutting off anymore light from coming into the room.

Dick looked desperately to the knife, this would keep them away, he didn't have to worry about them anymore. He let go with one hand, grabbing Peanut with it, and kicked the blankets off. He settled his head back onto the pillow, holding the knife in front of him. If they came back, he'd be ready, they couldn't hurt him anymore.

He hadn't had a nightmare about them in awhile, that part of his life was over, but like his parents fall, every now and then they'd come back with a vengeance. It was simply habit to keep a weapon under his pillow, one he felt was appropriate for his line of work. Now he had a very current issue.

The time to cry was over. He needed a weapon if he ever was to sleep here.

Renegade whipped at his face, he grunted a few times, getting the weird lump in his throat out. He stretched his legs out, they were quite cramped, and he looked down to find his belt had been pressed against his stomach. Now he's going to have a belt-shaped indent on his stomach for a few hours. It would have been funny if he were anywhere else.

He took a few deep breaths, straightening his back as well, feeling his muscles ache with his prolonged stillness. What he'd do for a trapeze set right now.

The young mercenary stumbled to a stand, picking up Peanut and tossing him onto the bed across the room. Trying to sleep was going to be pointless, not without something sharp in his hand.

He grabbed the strap of his backpack, he laid that on the bed too, deciding to not throw that as it could spill everywhere. He could go for some water right now, maybe a snack. Then he remembered what Batman said. He was locked in at night.

He didn't want to disobey those orders, but this was just a tad more important than that. He only followed orders he trusted, he trusted Deathstroke completely, his follow through was the way he showed his trust. Batman, he did not trust. He would only follow orders because Deathstroke told him to, but this one was a matter of self preservation. Some orders were arguable, if Renegade had a convincing counter Deathstroke would concede and let him do it Renegades way. This was no different. But Batman was not Deathstroke. Batman would not see that his argument was valid, he wouldn't understand his need.

But at this point, Renegade didn't care.

The young mercenary stretched the rest of his limbs out, leaving his things on his bed as he wandered over to the bathroom. It was small, had a shower, a mirror, a toilet, tiled floor with a single small rug. Not exactly decorated, but quaint.

He saw himself in the mirror, his face was still a bit red, at lest, the visible parts of his face. His hair was as untamable as ever, he ran a hand through it, just because he wanted to. Then a thought occurred to him, would Batman put a security camera in the bathroom?

He stepped in and looked around, unless the camera was microscopic, he couldn't find one. He closed the door, he really shouldn't risk it, but he wanted to. Renegade peeled off the mask, the fresh air hit his hot eyes was so startling they teared up again. He blinked them away and rubbed his eyes, standing in front of the mirror and sink. He let out a deep sigh, peeking through his fingers to see his form lean over the sink, resting his head on his hands as he used his elbows to prop himself up.

He dragged a hand over his face. He really was tired, but sleep would evade him until he found a weapon. A simple knife from the kitchen would suffice even.

Renegade blinked.

The kitchen.

He straightened and narrowed his eyes, how was he going to get to the kitchen? He was locked in. What time was it anyway?

Then Renegade remembered Batman took all his weapons, his hologlove included. He looked down to his arm, then smacked himself on the face. His hologlove was right there on his arm! Batman didn't take it, he didn't know it was electronic, Renegade didn't even think to give it to him, yet his subconscious thought he had.

Renegade brought his arm up, turning on the glove and reprimanding himself for his stupidity.

"Only when you chose to be." He recalled his mentors words, mumbling them to himself.

Now that he was away from Deathstroke, he realize how much he relied on him, how much he learned from him. It honestly made his heart warm, it felt like he had brought Slade with him.

His face was illuminated by the blue light, the numbers in the corner indicating it had been a few hours that he'd been crying. 12:34 A.M. Batman would definitely make sure he's locked in by then, but hopefully it meant everyone else was asleep. He didn't want any awkward confrontations so soon after being declared 'locked in'.

But if he had his hologlove, he could easily hack into security and make it look like he was still inside, he'd be practically invisible once he's outside.

His hand flew across the screen, singling out the security on his room and the cameras leading to the kitchen.

He set his codes in place, then waited for the red icons to turn green, his own frowning face turning green and smiling once all the codes hacked in. He shut off the glove and returned the mask to his eyes. He may not know what would be next for him but he knew what he was going to do now, and he would do it efficiently. Strict routine can fight off insanity, his routine was lost now, he would have no way to gain it back, but if he were have even a little part of what he used to do, he could stay the blade of insanity.

He opened the bathroom door, and walked right up to the door to the hallway. He didn't hesitate to open it, his protocols he imbedded into the security system would make it seem like the door is still locked, but in reality it was quite open.

He slid silently down the hallway, it was dark and eerily quiet, both of which did not bother him. He had night vision in his mask and the quietness only helped him know if anyone else was out here.

The young mercenary stepped into the large room, he frowned and was unable to keep a shudder from going down his spine. Large dark places were worse than large lit places.

He edged into the kitchen, keeping his back to the counter as he slid silently around to find what he was looking for. He reached out and gently pulled the drawer open, the slower the better, sound was his enemy right now. The noise was minimal, but sounded like a trumpet to the trained boy's ears, declaring his presence to the entire mountain.

He checked inside and did not find a knife, measuring cups were in this drawer instead. He wrinkled his nose in disappointment and gently shut the drawer. He slid over and tried the next one, finding nothing but serving spoons and ladles. There was a massive bread knife inside but he couldn't hide that anywhere on his person, he needed something he could slip up his glove.

He shut that one and went to the next, but before he could start to open the drawer the room was flooded in lights.

Crap.

He sunk to the ground, barely breathing as his heart pounded in his ears.

He stilled his body, forcing himself to take and release air without moving a muscle. He strained his ears, trying to identify the intruder by footstep or breathing.

It was a light padding, a yawn, no one important, no one searching for anything important. Or anyone, like a rebellious mercenary.

Renegade turned slightly without a sound, putting his back against the cupboard, but hovering with just enough space between the fabric and wood before they grated against each other.

Bare feet came into view and Renegade cursed under his breath, he'd be seen for sure. The person was heading to the fridge, right across from where Renegade crouched.

"Whoa!" The feet took a few steps back and the voice yelped in surprise.

Yep, he was seen, and his discoverer was none other than Kid Flash -without his mask-.

"Hi." Renegade said stiffly, shifting so he was fully sitting on the ground, his legs near his chest as his crouch slipped into a sit.

"What are you- you're supposed to be- what-?" Kid Flash pointed at him and his tired face screamed confusion and mild fear. "How'd you get out here?! Why are you out here?!"

Renegades mind swirled, how should he approach this? He was sitting on the ground in the kitchen behind the counter. Hm. How to explain this one...

"Needed a drink." He said simply with a shrug, looking up to meet the speedsters emerald gaze. Wasn't a lie, but wasn't his true intentions.

"Then what are you doing on the ground!?" Kid Flash exclaimed, gesturing to the young mercenaries strange position with both hands. He was still freaking out, not very whelmed, not whelmed at all.

"Uh... that's a bit harder to explain." Renegade admitted, lowering his gaze and resting his chin on his knees. Truth, as he didn't really want to explain, but in this situation he would have to.

"Umm," Kid Flash also seemed stuck, looking down in thought and resting his hands on his hips. "Okay? Even if it is hard to explain want to give it a try? You're also not exactly supposed to be out here at night."

"I know, I was having trouble sleeping, I needed a drink." Renegade said simply, keeping with his 'I was thirsty' act.

"Then why are you on the ground?" Kid Flash asked again.

Renegade drew a deep breath, this was a definite risk, but he needed an excuse, might as well be a plausible one, even if he reeeeeeally didn't want to. "Well, you see, sometimes... I get... really scared for no reason." Renegade left it at that, he didn't have to explain as to what would cause it, and if Kid Flash asked he'd have a pretty good excuse not to answer.

"A... panic attack?" Kid Flash asked, tilting his head in question and resting a hand on the counter. His tone softened, a reaction to being told the boy in front of him was unstable, a reaction Renegade was expecting. "You... ok?"

"Oh yeah I'm good now, just, resting." Renegade said, not moving at all from his curled up position.

"Umm." Wally looked around, unsure of himself and of what to do. Renegade shouldn't be out here, how'd he get out? "So how did you get out of your room? Batman said he locked it."

"A simple lock isn't going to do much against me, besides, Deathstroke and I operate at night, this is the time I'm mostly awake." Renegade said, then he looked up. "Why are you up?"

Wally felt his face redden slightly, he reached back and scratched his neck, his reasons, probably shouldn't be shared with a mercenary. "Oh, uh, midnight snack, I woke up hungry." He grinned and went to the fridge, opening it wide and grabbing an apple. "Gotta keep up with the metabolism."

"It affects your sleep?" Renegade asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

"Sorta." Wally said, he shut the fridge after finding his prize, then went over to a cupboard and brought out a bag of chips. After another thought he grabbed a second one, lowering the bag to show the mercenary. "Want some?"

Renegade stared for a second but then shook his head. "Nah, I'm good."

"Alright." Wally took the chip bag back and bit into his apple, leaning against the counter opposite to the sitting mercenary. Wally was suspicious, he was too quick to deny the food, he didn't eat last night either. Was this another side affect of being raised by a murderer?

The silence was getting a bit uncomfortable, only the speedsters chewing signaled any presence in the room.

"So um," Wally started, talking between bites, "I don't want to intrude on your personal life or anything." He took another bite and he saw the mercenaries gaze narrow. "But, when was the last time you ate?"

The kid blinked, surprised, clearly he was expecting a different question. "The last time I... ate?"

"Yeah." Kid Flash said, gesturing to the apple in his hand.

"Well yesterday of course." He said, the question was odd, why would he want to know that? He saw no reason to share his eating schedule, it wasn't any different from anyone else's.

"Mm," Kid Flash hummed in response, reminding Renegade of his mentor. "Do you cook?"

Renegade half snorted, a little huff through his nose similar to what Slade did. "I try not to, it doesn't always come out... edible."

"I can understand that." Kid Flash said, point with a finger and half shrugging with closed eyes. "So then who cooks?" He asked, folding his other arm under his side while he propped his apple near his mouth.

"S-Deathstroke does, he's good at it." Renegade said, then frowned at his own slip up. Slade had said he could share his own life story if he wanted to, not Slades. He knew Batman knew Slades identity, he wasn't sure about anyone else.

"Deathstroke cooks?" Kid Flash asked, more to himself than to Renegade, it seemed the thought was foreign to the speedster, something he wouldn't have thought of.

"Yeah, we all need to eat at some point, truth be told, I don't exactly sit around imagining what Batman has for lunch so I understand your confusion." Renegade said, he was getting really tired, but he had yet to get a weapon. Tired? Yes. Sleepy? No. Definitely not.

"Huh, I guess so." The redhead shrugged, staring at his apple while his face twisted in confusion.

"I don't recognize you by the way." Renegade said, he needed some way to get him to leave, or maybe somehow explain his necessity for a weapon.

"You don't?" Kid Flash said, a mix of relief crossing his features. "Oh, well, that's good." Kid Flash was more of the easily recognizable people, he was honestly surprised the mercenary didn't recognize him. "But, as a mercenary shouldn't you know all the hero's identities or something?"

"I know what I need to know, if I recognized you we'd have issues, but I don't, so we're good." Renegade said simply.

"Usually I'm one of the more recognizable hero's, my identity isn't exactly a secret around here." Kid Flash said, half sighing as he looked around.

"I... just don't get out much." Renegade admitted, he knew he was letting him know more information than he should. He was curious, Kid Flash seemed genuinely interested, but he knew the young hero's goals were to get information from him, he just wanted to make it look like it was working.

"Why not?" Was the speedsters next question, a question the young acrobat saw a mile away.

"'Cuz I never needed to, I have-er, had, everything I needed with Deathstroke." Renegade said, catching himself in the tenses, he didn't have everything he needed anymore.

"So you've never met anyone? Never been outside? Is that why you're so pale?"

Renegade snorted. "Yes that's why I'm pale, I don't like the daylight hours very much. And of course I've met people, weather they stay alive or not is the question."

"Oh..." Kid Flash looked a bit disgruntled by the information. Then he was surprised to find the speedster handing him a bag of chips. "Well you still need something in your stomach."

Renegade blinked, he reached out and grabbed the bag gently, but didn't attempt to eat it. "Okay..." He settled the bag on the ground in front of him. Truth was, he was starving, he ate dinner yes, but 'dinner' was at 4 that night, a few hours before he and Deathstroke left for the roof. It was now almost 10 hours since he'd eaten anything. Of course this was nothing, he'd been trained to do work on less than a few mouthfuls a day, but it still concerned him because he didn't exactly want to use the heroes food.

Something about it made him pause, something in his gut didn't feel right when he thought about eating the hero's food. It was silly, he was afraid of eating their food, but some little part of him latched onto the idea of poison. Sure the heroes were good guys but that didn't mean they couldn't lace his food with some unknown substance that makes him spill everything. In other words, Renegade would not eat their food.

"...Aren't you hungry?" Kid Flash asked, watching in confusion as the mercenary only glared at the bag of chips in front of him.

"Sort of." Renegade mumbled. "You'll have to excuse my hesitancy, I don't think you'll blame me if I say I don't exactly trust you heroes."

"Oh." Apparently Kid Flash was catching on. "Well it's a prepackaged bag of chips, I'm pretty sure you're good."

"Pretty sure? So anything else is more likely to be tampered?" Renegade glared up.

Wally winced. "No, what I mean is, if you're worried about the food being tampered with, the bag of chips is going to be the lest tampered. But nothing here is tampered, we don't poison anyone." He was trying to be funny, but apparently the mercenary didn't take to it very well, and it was quite concerning that this kid would refuse food just because where it came from. Well, if Wally thought about it, if he was with any villains he sure wouldn't take their food, well... maybe... depending on the situation at least. But he didn't think this situation caused for distrust, it was just a bag of chips.

"I'm not worried about poison." Renegade said stiffly.

Wally stood up abruptly, placing his apple on the counter and looking down on the mercenary with narrowed eyes. He could see the confusion in the boys face but he wanted to make sure this kid knew he was among  friends, he didn't have to be afraid of them or their food. Starting with his fearful position on the ground.

The speedster lurched forward and grabbed the young mercenaries shoulders, pulling him up to stand.

"There we go, no need to be on the floor right?" The redhead flashed the surprised mercenary a grin as he stepped back, reclaiming his apple, and completely missing the ebony haired boy go rigid and wide eyed.

"You should rea-" Wally cut himself off as he looked up, finding the young mercenary frozen, a look of terror on his face. Uh, did he do something? "Hey, you ok?" He rose an eyebrow, then his stomach dropped as the boy in front of him started to tremble.

"Renegade?" Wally tried, hopping whatever was happening was temporary and would be over soon. Was Renegade doing this on purpose? What was going on?

The boys mouth gaped open, but no sound came out and neither was air. The boy leaned forward slowly, shaking uncontrollably, and gasping for air. Wally reached forward, "Hey, breathe, you ok? What's going on?" Wally's internal panic was rising, what was happening? Why was he doing that? How does he make him stop?

Renegade's eyes looked up, even through the mask Wally could see that he wasn't seeing him. Something was very wrong.

The young mercenary recoiled from the outstretched hand, Wally's eyebrows furrowed as more panic coursed through him. "Hey, hey what are you doing? Are you ok?" Wally had no idea what to do, he stepped forward this time, reaching out to grab one of his arms.

Renegade yelped and dodged to the side, twisting around so his back was to the counter, his hands going out to grip the closest objects. One found the counter, the other found the fridge, each hand gripping with surprising ferocity. Renegade was staring wide eyed at Wally, but it was a look of fear.

The speedster now standing in between the mercenary and the kitchen island, feeling very lost and confused and concerned.

Renegades breaths were coming out in gasps, head lowered in an attempt to gain more air, his body shaking and sweat forming on his brow. The hand one the fridge shifted to the counter, the boy taking in deeper breaths.

"Um, Renegade?" Wally was frozen in his own panic, wondering what was going on in the kids mind to make him act like this. He reached forward again, but was surprised to hear the boy speak.

"Don't-" He gasped out, raising a hand to ward him away as he flinched back. Wally took a step back, somehow feeling threatened by the simple gesture, even though it looked like Renegade was the one feeling threatened. Something was going on that he didn't understand, it scared him to no end. What could make a murderer shake in his boots?

Renegade seemed to be reclaiming his breath now, air going in through his nose and out through his mouth in measured breaths. Wally just watched, unsure of what to do and scared of anything Renegade might do.

Renegades arms still shook but it appeared he was calming down now. His eyes were shaded by his hair, his face was paler than usual, his grip on the counter tight. They stayed like that for a minute, Wally began to itch in his prolonged state of silence and stillness. When Wally began to fidget, Rengade snapped his head up, glaring with ferocity Wally could only place with the Dark Knights.

"Um..." Wally felt threatened by the glare, he took a step back in preparation for a fight when the mercenary suddenly didn't seem interested in him.

Renegade was yanking the closest drawers open, scanning them before slamming them shut. What was he looking for? He did this to nearly all the drawers, then he found what he was looking for. When Renegade grabbed the steak knife from the drawer Wally's stomach flipped and his face drained of blood.

Renegade was still shaking, but the hand that held the knife was unwaveringly still. Wally gulped his dry throat as the knife was pointed to him.

"Don't... ever... crowd me like that again." Renegade hissed, his voice wavered but it only added to the fear piling in Wally's stomach. His glare rivaled the Bat-glare, and it concerned the speedster that it was pointed directly at him.

Wally swallowed again, he technically wasn't in striking distance, but he didn't think it mattered to Renegade. "Uh... was... was that a panic attack?"

If it was possible, Renegade glare turned even more sinister. "Yes, of course that was, what did you think was happening?"

Wally rose his hands slowly in surrender, he needed to get that knife away from Renegade, maybe get Batman too. "How abo-"

Renegade cut him off. "Clearly you've never been with someone when they have a panic attack. I'll give you some advice." Wally didn't know how, but just the way he said those words made him feel like prey, like he was about to be pounced on. "Don't. Ever. Try to help, if you don't know the cause. Because you could, like you did a minute ago, make it much worse."

"...Are you ok now?" Wally asked, trying to figure out what was going on and get the heck out of dodge.

Apparently this was the wrong thing to say.

"Of course not. What about this situation makes you think I'm ok?!" Renegade half yelled, his knife arm was beginning to shake, adding to the boys trembling crouched position.

Shoot, was it about to happen again? Wally was in a very bad position.

"Let's just put down the knife, and-"

Renegade took a step back, holding the knife closer to his person and shifting his grip so the blade was pointed backwards. "Lesson number two, don't take away the thing that calms the person down. Have you seriously never witnessed a panic attack before?" Renegade glare softened for a moment, sending him an incredulous look before the glare returned.

"Okay, okay." Wally shook his own step back, keeping his hands raised a bit and his voice soft, then his brows furrowed. "Holding a knife calms you?"

Renegade let out a deep breath through his nose, apparently calming himself before he answered because his tone was softer than he'd heard it all night. "Depending on what the panic attack is about, the object that calms them could be anything. In this situation, yes, it's a knife."

"Why would a kn-"

"Because then I feel like I can defend myself." Renegade cut him off again. "It's physically impossible for me too sleep without a weapon in my hand. So if you excuse me, I'll be going back to bed now." Renegade lifted himself from his half crouched position and walked forward, his knife at his side.

Wally frowned and side stepped into his way, Renegade really shouldn't have a knife with him. Wally then rethought about his decision when the knife was suddenly at his throat, and Renegade was glaring at him through his mat of hair.

"If you value anyone in this dirt hole, you won't stop me from taking the one thing that makes me comfortable. I don't need a knife to kill someone, so either way, there's a risk with me being here." The knife slid away and Renegade was running down the hall.

Wally looked back, rubbing his neck and watching wide eyed at the mercenaries back.

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Renegade slammed the door shut behind him, he breathed out solidly before it sped up again. Jeez he was a mess, at least he had a knife.

But Kid Flash was probably going to report that to Batman, it'd be taken from him again. The only way it would ever work is for him to explain why he needed the knife to sleep, and that wasn't something he wanted to share with a bunch of heroes. He already shared too much with the speedster, he didn't want to share anything else.

He wanted Slade.

His breathing shuddered as he remembered what exactly the panic attack was about. He closed his eyes and shook his head, he needed to get it out. He shakily walked over to the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and settled on the ground, leaning against the door.

He evened his breathing out as he looked down at the knife. He had a knife. He could keep them away. He had felt so vulnerable out there, it was terrifying. And Kid Flash was so stupid, why would he ever try to go towards him? That's the worst thing he possibly could have done. Well, he could think of something else, and it probably almost happened, but it didn't so no use getting anxious over something that didn't happen.

He breathed out through his nose, resting his head back against the door. He needed normalcy, he felt pinned down, he needed something familiar. Something to tell him he wasn't back there.

This bathroom worked well enough, it was small, the smaller the better. He had a knife, he could defend himself.

But what he needed, was Slade.

Welp, that's all she wrote for this chapter, interesting isn't it? Got some history, some lovely lovely angst, and a speedster.

School starts tomorrow for me, so updates are going to get a little more rare.

7212 word count here. Oh, and the title, heh heh, I can't help but chuckle every time I see it. Idk why but it makes me laugh. I was having trouble finding a title and I thought of this one as a joke, but then I realized it totally works, so I kept it. Best title ever. Hahaa, I love it.

See y'all around!