Chapter Text
“You are in violation of an international No-Fly Zone. Turn back now or you will be shot out of the sky,” Heinle’s voice crackles over the intercom.
Dumbass. “Sorry Pal, following orders isn’t our strong suit. Tell your minions to lock and load because we’re here to kick your ass,” Jason snarls into the mic.
Artemis raises an eyebrow at him. “Well that was bold.”
“Relax. It’s nothing Bizarro can’t handle,” he says, pulling his mask down just in time before he hears a boom and the plane shakes. He barely has time to feel his stomach drop. The plane starts free falling and he braces for impact as best as he can. Then everything goes black.
He comes back to himself slowly. He can’t move, can’t breathe. Has to breathe. It’s dark. It feels unsettlingly familiar. Grave? For a second, he’s back to when he just woke up. That time after he died. Then he feels the cold, tries to move his hands. The feeling of his gloves settles him a little until he feels the switch for the shocking device embedded in his suit and blasts the cold walls open.
He takes a couple of heavy breaths. Fuck. That explosion was huge.
“How did we survive that?”, he grits out before taking in his surroundings and realizing that he’s standing in a sea of ice. Oh. “Thanks, Bizarro. Wherever you are.”
He has to find them, he doesn’t know how far they veered off course. The speed, with which they were hit and went down, suggests it must be at least a couple dozen miles to their original goal.
Jason’s barely started forming a plan when he’s suddenly staring down several AKs and decides that men this well armed have to be on either site of the conflict he’s looking to stop. And since they’re not asking about his intentions or for his help…
“Let’s not do anything I’m gonna make you regret later,” Jason sighs. He’s hoping that they’ll take him somewhere close to their headquarters. The maps didn’t show anything else around here. So it’s either the city or something so secret that it’s definitely worth checking out.
“Helmet off,” the bald one says in English. He’s the one calling the shots, but he tries too hard to make that obvious.
Jason complies and offers up his guns and other weapons. He tries not to smile about how wary the tall one, who takes them all from him, seems. Climbing out of a crashed plane, that’s completely frozen over, with nothing more than a couple bruises can be unsettling, he supposes.
They have two pick-ups with them and shove him into the back of the bigger one. He considers for a moment to fight and take the truck for himself, but he hopes for that secret location.
The last time he was in Qurac was almost ten years ago and he was so busy running around trying to find his mom that he didn’t have time to sightsee. But the longer they drive the more familiar the scenery gets.
He’s disappointed when they actually slow down and all he sees are a few run down buildings. And there are only two more pick-ups outside the one building that still seems to be able to stand on its own. He hasn’t told them that he understands their language yet, so he’s more shoved than told where to go. Unfortunately for him they aren’t very chatty and haven’t given away anything interesting.
The inside of the house is as barren as the surroundings and barely has a couple tables and chairs but a lot of weapons set up.
He sees it when he looks out the window of the room they locked him into. A blown up warehouse. The warehouse. His stomach drops.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Is this another one of the joker’s games? Am I supposed to believe this is some sort of cosmic coincidence? Of all the compounds in all the world- I just showed up here?”
“Um. What are you talking about?”
“Look at his eyes. I think he’s losing it.” They genuinely look like they think he’s crazy. Am I? Losing it?
“Tell that pasty-faced freak if he wants me- I’m right here,” Jason snarls.
“He’s nuts.”
“Look, this isn’t… whatever you think it is,” the bald one insists. Jason studies him and the masked one. Do they genuinely have no idea?
“Find me the General. Maybe then I’ll believe you.” He needs answers, one way or another. And he needs to get out of here. As soon as possible.
Suddenly his 15 year old self is standing on the edge of his vision. Jason turns to see if the mirage will disappear, when his brain realizes that the details can’t be right. It wasn’t like this. Not once did he have time to just stand there and watch someone. But the only thing he achieves by doing that is zeroing in on the injuries his younger self has, which are so, so unfairly accurate, Jason knows exactly which one caused what scar. So the image stays.
“This is what I become? Maybe I was better off dead.” Jason hears his younger self say when he sees Robin take in the pale and pained look on his face. Robin’s face looks so resigned, he has to look away. That must’ve been the face he made when he realized that there was no way that he was getting out of the warehouse.
“Yeah…”, he can’t help but reply. “Maybe.” Jason lets himself slide down the wall and hopes that that’s all his younger self would want to say to him. But he can’t shake the memories this place holds. If it wasn’t for Artemis he would’ve never returned. That’s how uneasy it makes him. No… If it was only uneasiness, he could live with that. He could work with that. But drowning in the memories makes him downright nauseous, and he feels coldness creeping up his limbs. Forget living, he can’t even function like this.
Jason tries to push the memories aside. Until he here’s the pleading. Robin’s pleading. Just like he remembers himself doing, tied up, beaten up, lying on the stony floor. But this time, Robin is pleading with him. Using Jason’s name. “P-Please, Jason- help me.” Like he could actually do anything for him.
“I’ve tried, Robin,” he hears himself say. “Every night since I’ve stepped out of the Lazarus Pit... believe me, I’ve tried.” He can hear Robin coughing and thinks he’ll keep pleading forever, but then he hears the laughter. His jaw clenches, before he can even form a clear thought, and a poisonous look settles on his face. He doesn’t even listen to what the Joker says. He’s had this particular bad dream a lot, even though it’s been a while and he thought he’d gotten rid off it.
It’s this fucking place. Physically being here makes his whole body remember everything.
The words don’t even register, but the laughter can’t be ignored. Soon, he can feel it spreading through his whole body, paralyzing him like poison. So this time will be like all the other times then, he thinks and let’s the anger take over. In the blink of an eye he has a gun in his hand and empties the round into the Joker’s chest. And when the bastard falls to the ground, next to a Robin that’s bleeding equally as bad, he can see the relief on Robin’s face. As if he’s been saved. But Jason knows better. Nothing ever changes.
Robin starts arguing, pleading, as if he could sense Jason’s resignation. Or hear his thoughts.
“But I’m just a kid!”, Robin says desperately. And, oh, how Jason wishes that it would matter. He looks at Robin and sees him flinch at the exhaustion in Jason’s eyes.
“Things are different now,” Jason says firmly. “Roy. Kori. Artemis. Bizarro. When I was your age- I never let anyone in. I thought I could do everything alone.” He gets up to try and walk away because he knows what’s next. He can already hear the laughter starting all over again.
“What are you saying…?! This is my fault?” The look on Robin’s face is so disbelieving and angry that he has to look away.
“You came to Qurac all by yourself. You never gave yourself a chance. You died like you lived- alone,” he accuses himself and turns away.
“Y-You’re not going to save me?”, Robin shouts over the sounds of the laughter and the crowbar.
“If I could have, god- I would have,” Jason murmurs and closes his eyes as the whole world explodes.
The first thing he notices is that he wasn’t actually going anywhere because his arms and feet are tied to a chair. From the feeling of the rest of his body he’s been tortured for quite a while. Stupid, useless, overwhelmed by a goddamn warehouse. He could’ve done without he days of sores he would now have to live with after this is over. Ugh.
When he takes in his surroundings though, he sees Heinle. At least all this was good for something. Heinle himself is not an impressive man, but one part of his stupid monologue is intriguing. Their? If the military doesn’t actually have the Bow, then they weren’t the ones who shot them out of the sky either.
Heinle seems to not know how to use him any further and orders his men to bury him out back before he turns to leave. Jason is grateful that Baldy and Mask are moving closer to untie his arms before they intend to put a Bullet in his head. Looking half dead has his perks. That makes it much easier for him, and at least he can safe himself some sores.
The two of them loosen the ropes a little, and he moves before they get cautious. He has the edge of his hand slamming down on Mask’s neck and his knee crushing into Baldy’s face before anyone knows what’s happening. Heinle tries to shout a threat to get him to stand down. Jason pushes Heinle’s gun arm aside and has Mask’s AK in his face before he can finish speaking.
“Or… I blast your head clean across the room,” he offers.
“Wait- we can discuss this reasonably-“, Heinle stammers, sounding very meek all of a sudden. Jason would enjoy this more if Heinle had ever been impressive to begin with. Or if he didn’t have something urgent to clear up.
“You said ‘their’ attack. Which means you aren’t the one using the Bow of Ra.” Heinle begins stuttering about them not being able to use it, but someone else stealing it and making it work for some reason.
Coming up with the only plausible theory of the not actually dead Shim’tar, at the place where he died his own death that didn’t stick, feels like the last ridicule this goddamn warehouse has in store for him.
Jason isn’t exactly happy that he has to show up at the Amazons’ front doors at the side of a mass-murderer. But he thinks that problem can wait until the other mass-murderer isn’t holding a weapon of mass destruction anymore.
He’s just pissed about what Artemis will have to go through before the day is over.
As expected, she gets into one of his fights when she sees which side he’s fighting on. Her trying to stop him only lasts until both of them get attacked by the other’s side and they have each other’s back without question. Good. Artemis still has friends she leans on and protects, even if Akilla can’t come back to the version of herself Artemis loves so much.
In the middle of the fight, they both get distracted by a rumble that’s coming from deep within the earth until a part of the mountain blows up.
“Reds,” Bizarro growls, looking actually sheepish when he sees their incredulous faces. “Me brought new friends to you.” Jason looks at the people behind him. Refugees from the city. Fuck. That’s a lot of innocent people near a battlefield. Jason looks around and for a moment he thinks he sees a flash of black and orange between the houses near them. He blinks and can’t tell if it was real. The Amazons and military are fighting behind them, leaving the area he was looking at empty, but who knows who might’ve fled or taken their battle there. Jason shakes the feeling off. There’s no time for this.
“Bizarro, tell them to go behind those buildings,” he instructs the big buy. At least they will have protection from stray shots and blasts. “And then come back fast. Akilla won’t be buried under the rubble for long.”
Jason and Artemis move to put more distance between themselves and the houses. Meanwhile he tries to make out if the General is still around. As his eyes sweep over his surroundings he thinks he sees orange again before a blast that must’ve come from the Bow distracts him.
Artemis runs into that direction and throws herself back into the fight. He goes after her and is glad that he has weapons that work better against Akilla than his own brute strength would work against an Amazon. This is about magic. So he draws his All-Blades and jumps in from behind her.
Jason tries not to enjoy getting to play with his blades too much. For some reason magic usually stays away from Gotham, so he’s pleased by the uncommon feeling of swords in his hand and the way the blades change how he moves. It’s overshadowed by Akilla not letting up and him starting to think that even Artemis won’t be able to bring her actual self back.
And apparently this whole fucking place drains his soul because the All-Blades don’t last as long as he wants them to. With a sigh he lets the familiar feeling of his guns settle back into his hands. Wether it’s out of relief or disappointment he can’t say and doesn’t want to think about right now. But he’s very aware that his guns will barely cause a scratch on her.
Bizarro finally comes flying towards them after Jason used up two rounds, and she loses the Bow in his initial overwhelming force. It doesn’t take long for her to hit back though. Jason tries to be as annoying and distracting as he can be to give Bizarro the upper hand until Artemis is ready.
“We were wrong, Akilla.” Jason hears as he’s reloading his guns. He looks up, to see which direction he should steer clear off, before putting an appropriate amount of distance between the Amazons, the honorary Kryptonian, the Bow and himself. His guns stay aimed. He knows he’d hit his target easily from here, too.
“A warrior doesn’t choose her weapon. It chooses her,” Artemis recites and she looks like she finally believes in it, which, right in this moment, must be incredibly painful.
Jason’s stomach churns as Akilla tries to keep fighting, but loses, and Bizarro takes her and flies high enough that the explosion won’t hurt anyone in the vicinity and blow up a whole mountain.
He looks away to give Artemis a resemblance of privacy and sees that the Amazons have stopped fighting. Probably a while ago. The military is already retreating to the houses. As he watches them disappear inside and in between the buildings, he can’t help feeling like something is off. Like someone who he isn’t aware of is watching them as well.
He doesn’t let his eyes linger to not reveal that he has noticed something. It’s unsettling. Because, if his hunch is correct, whoever this person is, they’re good. Good enough to notice a change in him if he isn’t careful.
The Amazons have gathered around Artemis and he doesn’t feel like mingling with the men. So he does the thing most Bats do to settle themselves and looks around for the highest roof. It’s only three stories high but he goes up regardless and settles on the edge of the building to keep an eye on things. He allows himself as much time to glance over the houses opposite of the area, where he felt the eyes watching them, as he would take without having noticed anything. But he pays more attention. He takes his helmet off, keeping only his domino on, so whoever sees him can see what he’s looking at, and keeps his face carefully relaxed, showing that he isn’t concerned about anything.
It takes an hour until Artemis comes up to him and he gets a chance to ask how she’s doing. She isn’t okay, but she will be. Jason listens as she declares that the Amazons won’t separate themselves from the refugees, or anyone who wants to come live with them, anymore and as she quietly promises him that she will still be an outlaw.
“Let’s make ourselves a safe house when we get back to Gotham,” she says. “I won’t leave my sisters completely, but I want to make it my second home and it would give Bizarro a place to stay.”
In truth Jason has been itching to leave and get back home ever since he saw the warehouse. And, even though he doesn’t want the outlaws to be a full time thing, having them around and partially living with them sounds good.
“I have a place in mind,” he offers. One of his bigger safe houses that is still empty and unassuming will work well.
Artemis smiles a little. “Good. Now we just need a new plane and to get Bizarro away from the refugees.” Jason turns to see several kids still entertaining Bizarro. The crowd seems somewhat attached to him and unwilling to go up to the military or Amazons.
“Can you talk to them and introduce them to the Amazons?”
“Why not do it yourself? Stage fright?”, she laughs.
He rolls his eyes at her. “I should talk to Heinle.”
“And you don’t want me there to hold your hand?”
Now he’s grinning, too. “Nope. Please be the people person and diplomatic negotiator I know you’re not.”
“Ugh. At least I’ll have Bizarro there as support,” she snorts and jumps to the ground.
Jason lets his eyes run over his surroundings and doesn’t notice anything off. Maybe the feeling he still has is just the demons that attach themselves to him in this place.
Either way, he wants to deal with Heinle and nothing about that is or will seem weird to anybody watching. He keeps the helmet off, when he walks over to the buildings, and starts looking for the General. Hopefully no one is going to start a fight if he looks like he isn’t expecting one.
Originally they only came for the Bow. Then, when Jason saw what the situation in the country was like, he planned to at least take out the person who’s causing all this damage. But that was before he knew that Akilla had been responsible for a lot of the problems. Akilla is gone and the Bow is in good hands. One mass murderer is still holding on to power, but not as much as he thought.
Finding the house with the leadership of the military isn’t hard. It’s the only building with guards out front.
“The Bow is still in the Amazons’ hands,” he hears Heinle shout. “Who says it won’t end up like this again?”
“Knock knock,” Jason says cheerfully as he steps inside the house.
All two dozen heads snap around to look at him like he has a death wish for interrupting their general’s rant. He couldn’t care less. Only a few of them look like they have a backbone. That concerns him more. He takes his time to look around and hopes that some of those with backbone have enough power to take the top when Heinle leaves a void. Four of them look somewhat promising.
“What do you want?” Heinle looks at him so uninterested that Jason thinks he forgot the whole torturing him and saving the country thing. Or maybe it’s disdain because he thinks Jason came to whine.
Jason doesn’t even have to act to look unimpressed. “The Amazons are talking to the refugees and introducing themselves. They will open up their borders and let anyone who wants to live with them come,” he begins calmly.
“Bunch of cowards and traitors,” someone supplies helpfully. His quartet seems to disagree, but they hide it, not even that badly, because Heinle doesn’t. Good.
“If I remember correctly, you weren’t of much help in the fight.” Jason raises an eyebrow at the one who spoke and subsequently at everyone else who wasn’t either.
“They weren’t either,” someone spits.
“They aren’t in the position you are.” He points at the man who had spoken. “What the fuck are you even here for if it’s not to fight for your people?” He is very pleased by how most of the men slip a little into insecurity, but his quartet seems more resolved.
“And what are you here for?” Heinle apparently isn’t interested in anything but his own frustration.
“Accompanying a friend to visit family,” he smiles.
“Bullshit, you want the Bow for yourself,” Heinle seethes. Amazing, what not having a gun in their face, or a weapon of mass destruction in hit range, does to a person’s confidence.
“Oh, but I don’t have it. And I get that supernatural bullshit is above your pay grade, but the Bow chooses the woman it wants to serve on its own.” He moves to plop down on the only chair standing in front of the large table they’re all gathered around.
He wants to buy Artemis more time, to get the Amazons and citizens at least on a diplomatic and talking basis, before they have to leave. And he wants to give himself more time to tear down the cowards and narcissists in here and build up his quartet until they won’t hesitate to take over whatever leadership the country gets now.
“So. What’s your plan, now that the Bow is dealt with?”, he asks.
“That’s not for you to know,” Heinle sneers and tries to ignore him and go on with his meeting.
“Well, if you don’t have anything concrete, let me make a couple of suggestions.” He leans back, but keeps his attention on Heinle. “First of all, you want to play nice with the refugees and make sure they have somewhere to live and are taken good care of. Then, you want to address the causes of why their fleeing their own home. Calling someone who decides they want or realize they have no choice, but to take another shot at living elsewhere, and have the courage to leave everything they knew behind, a traitor or a coward is frankly dumb as fuck.”
He decides that calling the moron from earlier out on this bullshit directly won’t be too on the nose for these guys and levels his eyes at said moron because, surprise, he’s paying attention to every single one of them. “And at the same time you will start diplomatic talks with the Amazons and support them in opening up their borders and helping those who want to take them up on their offer to live there. It’s gonna be great for civilian morale, international image and establishing faith in the safety of this country,” he grins.
He’s not saying anything groundbreaking, but he wants to make sure that his quartet remembers these things. Even if their plans might, and hopefully do, go above and beyond. As a bonus it also works wonders for getting Heinle riled up.
“Do not tell me what to do, brat,” he shouts and stomps out, followed by four of the higher ranks in this room. Presumably to organize their men outside. Jason’s thankful that Heinle was unimpressed by him from the very beginning and doesn’t even try to guess how much damage he can really do.
“Now,” he begins and stands up to lean on the table. “Some of you seem utterly useless to me. Who knows, you might have qualities that are invisible to me right now. But don’t go out on the battlefield if you’re gonna be a hindrance. And by battlefield I mean the one that was just outside, the one in here and the leadership one you’re about to step into. Be certain of what you can do and don’t unnecessarily interfere in the rest. Clear?” Some of them look even more insecure, some are seething and even his quartet seems a little skeptical. That won’t do.
“A couple of you,” he continues, “seem competent. I can see courage and righteousness and I know not all of you like to play along with everything and anything he says. That’s good. That’s what leadership needs. One guy calling the shots and 20 other people standing around with nothing to contribute is useless and pretty dangerous. Not using all the resources you actually have is dumb.” He tries not to single out his quartet, by looking only at them and setting them up for failure, and decides he might as well try to make some of the other ones, who aren’t rotten to the core, useful.
“The people are still scared, they don’t know about the big bad magic bow and possessed goddess. You guys have a lot to do and this country needs and deserves good leadership. And by good I mean both competent and caring. The Amazons are out there right now discussing a once in a millennia offer and they’re willing to help the people. But they’re also willing to fight anyone, who gets in between them and the people they’re helping or taking in. And trust me, when I say that you do not want to be their enemies.” He pauses and hopes that especially this last point comes across because the Amazons can do so much good if they have support rather than opposition. One of the guys in his quartet nods.
“Good.” He looks at him as obviously approving as he can and also gives little nods at the other three. He decides that walking out on them like this and leaving them with that last thought is the best thing he can do, so he he casually puts on this helmet for effect and leaves. He gets barely two steps away from the door, considering how he’s gonna handle Heinle, when he gets stopped dead in his tracks by an amused voice right beside him.
“Not bad, Red.” Jason barely keeps himself from snapping around. A familiar man even taller and broader than himself in a black-orange suit with a white arm is leaning against the wall next to the door he just walked out of.
“Deathstroke,” he says calm and unimpressed. “What a coincidence seeing you here.”
“Yes, coincidence,” Deathstroke mocks, not even bothering to make it sound like dry sarcasm in the way Jason does. “I’m here for absolutely no reason at all. Just going around sightseeing and shit.”
Jason starts walking, because he absolutely doesn’t want to have this conversation a few steps away from the rest of the leadership, and steers towards deserted streets. He also doesn’t want to be seen with Deathstroke. If what Jason thinks he is doing here is true, then being seen together would be absolutely counterproductive to what he just did.
“The Boss?”, Jason asks, because as much as he’d like to get the upper hand in the conversation, this situation is more important.
“Yep,” Deathstroke answers simply.
“The other four?”
“Were in the way.” And Jason can appreciate that because they were in his, too.
“So you’re done?”
Deathstroke must know that he’s fishing for a reason for why he’s still here, but he simply hums in confirmation. As they’re walking through the houses they aren’t seen by anyone. Sometimes Jason hears voices, but Deathstroke always changes direction, before he can even tell where exactly they’re coming from.
“And you stuck around to see what the next in line would be like? How sweet.” Even though it’s a relief to know he wasn’t imagining someone else being here, the place still makes him feel uneasy. He hopes Deathstroke isn’t going along with him just because he noticed that.
“It was entertaining”, he shrugs and Jason can’t tell if that is everything there is to it or if he hears curiosity somewhere in there. “Besides, I can’t let you go after them and walk in on a murder scene just to be caught there and get all the credit,” Deathstroke says amused. “And since I practically ran into you anyway, I wanted to give you a heads up that I have no contracts in Gotham for a while. So, if you want to use me as a distraction for the Bats or whatever again, I have no other obligation.”
“What, you’re running out of jobs?”
“Hardly,” he chuckles.
“If something comes up, I’ll consider you.”
“Oh, I’ll be considered? Such an honor.” Jason can basically hear the mockingly raised eyebrow.
“Believe it or not, you’re not the best person for every kind of job,” he argues. Slade snorts and they round another corner before Jason sees the bike.
Goddamn it, Bruce, he regards the bike with amusement. It looks like an old, ugly thing, but it’s big enough that it can hide a lot of fancy under the exterior. Why can’t you ever mention the fun parts about work. He didn’t know that Deathstroke likes banter enough to entertain himself with an almost pointless conversation on the way to his getaway.
“You don’t have a couple open seats in your plane available, by any chance?”, he grins.
Deathstroke starts laughing and Jason gets the annoying feeling that it’s at his expense. “That crash was pretty impressive. A kryptonian bodyguard comes in handy I suppose.” Jason flips him off, but Deathstroke is still chuckling when he gets on the bike.
“See you around,” he says, doesn’t wait for a response and kick starts his machine to drive off. The bike is much quieter and faster than it looks to be. And Jason’s gonna have to go find a regular-ass pick-up truck and hope that Bizarro will be okay in the hours it’s gonna take him and Artemis to get on and off a commercial flight to Gotham.
He sighs and pushes aside the envy, to go the long way around to meet up with Bizarro and Artemis. The last thing he wants is to accidentally get anywhere near the place where Deathstroke murdered Heinle and his men. He wants to be gone before the commotion starts though. When he proposes his plan to his companions, they don’t protest him wanting to leave either. So he lets them say their goodbyes and steals a truck from the military to finally leave this place and go to the capital to catch a flight back to Gotham.