ROGUE| DICK GRAYSON

i. routine

Rowan Blake always had a routine. Ever since she could remember, the days constantly were the same.

She'd wake up to the sound of her alarm at four in the morning.

The brunette didn't open her eyes at first, listening for any noise. When she didn't hear any, she tugged on the restraints that held her to the bed.

Her father always said to be prepared and constantly expect the worst. So, he would slip a pill in her drink, so she'd fall asleep, and then tie her up so she could get out of it the following day. This happened so often, that she always could smell the pill. But, she couldn't do anything about it.

Rowan worked her magic as she popped her thumb out of its socket, so she could get out. She bit her tongue, so she wouldn't make a sound. The girl slowly slipped her hand out of the handcuff and started to work on the other hand.

When she finally got out, she got dressed and left her room quietly. Rowan slowly walked towards the kitchen, fearful that she would get the attention of her father.

"One minute and three seconds." The voice almost made her jump, but she held her composure.

The girl went to the fridge and grabbed her water. She quickly sniffed, making sure nothing was in it, and then took a sip of it.

The brunette heard some silverware clatter onto the table and turned around.

She heard it before she caught it. The girl held the knife an inch away from her face. Her father blankly stared at her and continued to set the table.

Rowan just waited to hear the words, 'great job!' or, 'I'm proud of you.'

But, all she got was the time she took and criticism.

"So, Dinah–"

"Speak up."

The girl straightened her posture and spoke louder, "Dinah told me that the Justice League is forming a team of young superheroes and she would like for me to join."

Her father stood up, "Spit it out, girl."

Rowan hesitated for a second, terrified of what he would do, "May I join the team, sir?"

His blue eye looked into hers as if he was deciding what to do. His stare almost made her want to hide and try to figure out where her dad went. But, did she ever have a dad? No, she had a father. A father that would rather bury her alive than hug her. A father that would rather have her older sister.

"Yes, you may." The girl wanted to smile, but she just nodded, "On one condition." There was always a catch, wasn't there? He couldn't ever let her be fully happy. "On your sixteenth birthday, you have to quit the team and come back."

Rowan had so many questions. Why her sixteenth? Why does she only get a few months?

She couldn't help, but get frustrated, "I only get a few months?"

"You're lucky you even get to go, Rowan." She could tell he was getting angry at her for talking back, but she didn't really care at that moment.

The girl took a threatening step forward, "I did everything you ever asked for!" She pointed to herself to emphasize her point. She deserves more than this, "I killed people! I almost died too many times. I have scars from when I couldn't catch the fucking knives you threw at me or when you got angry and decided to use me as your personal punching bag! I deserve to get more than a fucking couple of months–"

The girl felt his fist connect to her face and blood quickly filled her mouth. But, she didn't stumble back; she didn't show how scared she was when she met his eyes. This was her father.