Befriending The Enemy

Missions

It has been 5 years since Dick was taken in by Deathstroke. The Gang war was at a standstill, both sides were afraid to make moves since the Leagues were now out to play. Dick and Deathstroke has taken this time as a vacation, both of them staying in, battling in silly games or just talking with one another. They havent been called for missions in a minute, not since that night Dick faced off with the Red hood.

  They didnt blame them for being scared. Pulling a move right now when the League is at it's most active would definitely bring a lot of light to the wars. So Dick took this time to keep himself occupied.

  Currently he was cleaning his weapons while also talking to Deathstroke about upcoming plans. "Its nearing your 19th birthday in a few months, Grayson."

  Dick groaned, throwing his head back. "Dont remind me. I dont want to think I'm getting old."

  "Everyone grows older, Grayson." Deathstroke said.

  Dick sighed, placing his Katana down. "I cant help but think back at the first day I came here. How much everything has changed. Even though I hated my team for so long, I still cant help but miss them. What are they even doing? How are they?" Says Dick, scratching the back of his head. "I just keep wondering about it. The last time they came after us was when we did the Joker mission like... 3 years ago. You would think we would be on their radar to capture first."

  Deathstroke shook his head, reaching over he ruffled Dick's hair. "They will be after us soon. You'll be able to see them." He says, standing up. "They are probably on the look for us now." He says.

  Dick chuckled, swatting Deathstrokes hand away. "Probably." He said, going back to cleaning his weapons while Deathstroke went to make dinner.

*Mountain*

  Batman had called a meeting for both the Young Justice and the Justice League. All of them met in the debriefing room. Once they were all there, even Redhood, he began, pulling up the masks they all knew.

  "This is Deathstroke and his ward Nightwing. According to Jason's input, they are in the middle of a gang war playing on the side of Ms. Falcone. They are our target. Our number 1 target. We must capture one if not both of them and bring them in for questioning. If they continue to be in this gang war, things will get ugly." He says.

  Wally cleared his throat, unhooking his hand from Artemis'. "How ugly?"

  "A lot of people dead. They may not have killed anyone that we know of yet, but they will. In this war that can mean anything." He replied.

  Kauldur sighed, folding his arms. "No one has seen them on the street since that night Jason and Nightwing faced off." He said.

  "I'm aware, but soon they will have to come out of hiding. Stay sharp and if you find them, take extreme precautions." He explained. "Mission starts now. I want them brought in by the end of the week."

  "Understood!" Choruses around the room as everyone was dismissed. Wally and Artmeis locked hands, walking into the main room.

  "This seems like such a big mission." Says M'gaan, running a hand through her short hair.

  Wally chuckled. "Going after one of the greatest assassins in the world along with his little mini me, who'd a thunk?!" Says Wally.

  Artemis slapped Wally. "Be nice, hon."

  Wally sighed, sending a smirk her way. "Sorry."

  "If they havent been seen in more than a year, what makes Bats think they will come out now?" Asked Connor.

  "Tension." Says Jason, entering the conversation. "Ms. Falcone is waiting for Moroni to pull something as well as the other way around. They will cave and then Deathstroke and Nightwing will be thrown on the streets for missions." He says.

  "Will they be in Gotham? Star? Central? Do we know?" Asked Jaime Reyes, who was plopped on the couch next to Rocket.

  "Gotham most likely." Says Jason. "So enough of that. Suit up, we have some Villains to catch." He said.

  "Yessir." Says Zatanna, smirking at Jason's eyeroll.

  They split, all of them suiting up before heading out into the city, hoping they wont have to wait long.

  They didn't.

*Compound*

  After dinner, Dick lied down on his bed, looking up at the ceiling, thinking back on his life so far. He started out as just a performer, than he turned into a ward of batman, then a ward of Deathstroke. Went from Civillian, to hero to bad guy. How crazy his life was made him wonder.

  Deathstroke knocked on the door, startling Dick slightly as he sat up. "Yes?" He asked.

  Deathstroke held up the tablet and Dick knew what this meant. A mission. "We have a mission from Skull. A shipment of high level weapons was intercepted and taken." He said.

  "And he wants us to find them. Doesnt this bring back memories. It was my first ever long mission." Says Dick with a smile.

  Deathstroke chuckles. "It was and now we need to go do it again, on a smaller scale." He said.

  "Do we have to do it tonight or can this wait until tomorrow?" Asked Dick.

  Deathstroke lifted a brow, folding his arms like a scolding parent. "You tell me, Grayson."

  Dick groaned, slowly dragging himself out of bed. "Be ready in 10." He mumbled.

  Deathstroke nodded. "Be in the basement." He said, leaving the room.

  Dick sighed, getting out of his pajamas and slowly sliding on his armor. As he got dressed, he couldnt help but shake a bad feeling this mission was giving off. Almost like he shouldn't go. That something bad was going to happen.

  Trying to ignore it, Dick got ready, making his way down to the basement, he made it to his weapons case and started to gear up. Once ready, he spotted Deathstroke standing by the bikes. Dick grabbed his mask, making his way over to Deathstroke.

  He got onto his bike as the platform rose. Dick gulped. "Synched up?" Asked Dick, as he put his earpiece in.

  Deathstroke nodded. "Should be." He said.

  Dick nodded, putting his mask on as he started his bike. "I'll send you the coordinates so you have them as well." He said.

  Dick saluted. Once they were level, both of them took off towards the entrance. When they made it out of the tunnel, they made their way to Gotham, unaware of the events put in play.