DC: Don't Utter A Word

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[Star City. February 10, 04:30 PDT. 2009

David Lance POV]

As expected, Dinah was not happy with the developments of Gotham.

The moment she heard what happened in Gotham, she came rushing to the cave, demanding answers from Batman, or rather would have, if I hadn't stopped her.

I understood her reasons.

I truly did.

However,

It wasn't Batman's fault what had happened.

Or Robin's for that matter.

It was only mine.

I was weak.

And weakness brought pain.

I didn't want to be weak.

"You can't be serious, David," Dinah sighed, her tone tired and agitated, "You almost died!"

~I know, but that will always be a risk, and you know it,~ I replied, looking at her. It was true, as long as I was part of this world, death would always haunt me as it did to everyone else, no one was safe, not truly.

"I know, but…" Dinah muttered, giving me a tight hug, "You are my baby brother, I can't bear to lose you…"

I hugged her back, feeling her tears running down my back.

We remained like this for a few minutes, until I decided to break the hug to tell her something.

~I love you, but you have to understand, as long as I live, I will be in danger, be it, Star City, or Gotham,~ I signed, smiling at her, as I dried her tears up with a piece of cloth I had on me.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," Dinah smiled, grabbing my hand.

~All I need to do is grow stronger, train more, and next time, I'll be ready,~ I grinned at her.

My journey started the day I acquired my power, that fateful day, my destiny had been sealed, to what? I didn't know, I mean, I knew people would pursue my power because it was human nature to desire that which you can't hold. That day, Batman offered me a path, one to give me a meaning, a purpose.

It had been a path picked for me.

I didn't know what I wanted. To be a hero, to live a normal life.

I didn't know, at least not at that time.

Sure, everyone fantasizes about saving the world, about having superpowers, about being Superman, or the Flash, about being a hero, it's natural to do so, but from that to the real thing, well, it's not all a fairy tale.

This path, that path had been picked for me, for a very valid reason. I needed focus to learn discipline in my life.

From there, I simply followed what was expected of me.

While it was true, the life of a hero hadn't been one I had picked, I was content with it.

It was fun to train.

It felt good knowing my powers would not hurt others.

But, one thing was being content with your situation, and another was being truly happy with it.

We settle to conform ourselves with our environment, it's a human mechanism, it helps us cope.

So, yeah, I had settled.

But Deathstroke changed that.

Death puts things into perspective.

The first time I died, I didn't understand much, it was all so fast, so sudden, I simply remained the same for the most part.

That was the first time I experienced mortality, that was the first time I gazed upon the heavy doors of death.

However that time I had no time to really take it in. It all had happened quite fast.

The second time, however, I had time to savor my mortality to the very essence of it, and sure, I hadn't died, Batman had arrived just in time to avoid that, but still, even if those gates hadn't opened this time, I had still been able to gaze upon them once again.

And as I gazed upon them, I realized, I was not afraid.

It was vexing and confusing.

I expected to feel fear, or perhaps anger.

But, I simply felt a void within me as I gazed upon them.

At first, I had attributed this to the fact I was waiting for Batman, therefore possibly canceling any real fear I could've had.

But eventually, I came to the realization… I had reacted to those gates like a deer would to the headlights of a car.

I simply froze.

It was pathetic.

But no more.

I would not let that happen again.

Next time, I would be prepared, and this time, it was me, picking the path, and I wanted to be a hero.

I had no voice.

But I would fight so that others would have one.

I had been given a burden, but it was my choice to make it a blessing.

Perhaps that's why I had been so unresponsive to those gates, perhaps, just perhaps I was subconsciously accepting the end.

I refused to be that weak.

Not again.

"I see," Dinah chuckled, smiling at me as she brushed my hair with one of her hands while touching my face with the other, "You found your spark for this hellish career,"

I blinked, surprised at how easy she had read me, before nodding, ~I suppose this counts as my origin story.~ I smiled at her, earning a playful punch to the shoulder from my dear old sister.

"I suppose it counts, we all need a strong motive," Dinah sighed, planting a kiss on my forehead.

In a way, my reasons were selfish, not as honorable as others, but, did it really matter?I had made a decision, and I would stick by it.

"If you truly want to keep this life, then I won't stay in your way," Dinah smiled, giving me a kiss on the forehead, "I love you, now and always, never forget that."

I smiled, how could I forget that? The one thing this new life had given me, that I was truly grateful for was her. My powers, and everything else, had been a burden, one I had simply settled to accept.

They had given me great power, but at cost. One slip, one mistake and I could kill those I cared about.

However, I now saw this view of my powers was based of what I had lost and not what I had gained, giving me a shackle on pain to a hurtful reality.

Well, no more.

I would now embrace all that has been given to me, without pain.

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[Gotham City. February 12, 2:35 CT. 2009

Deathstroke POV]

I had found the one.

My future apprentice.

And by accident no less.

Funny how life, throws you a curve, especially when you least expect it.

I originally had my aims on the wonder boy, but I had found another bird altogether, one that was much, much, better.

He would do just fine, following in my footsteps.

Of course, I now had to adjust my plans a bit.

A year or two would suffice.

After all, I had to study my new target, to learn how to break him, because only broken, I would mold him into the perfect killer.

But first, I had to let some little owls know not to touch what it's mine.

Plucking a feather or two should do just the trick to send the message. I might even get a few heads rolling, I suppose I'll see how the night goes when I pay them a visit.