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amazingflyingdick · 4 years

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the toxin.

WHO: Dick @amazingflyingdick, Jason @thatsjasonfkntodd, Tim @redrobin-timdrake, Barbara @the-orxcle, & Slade @terminator-deathstroke WHERE: A random warehouse WHEN: May 17th, 2020 WHAT: Jason, Tim, & Barbara put out a fake hit on Dick to lure Deathstroke into a trap

Jason: Coming up with the details for the fake job hadn’t taken him too long in the grand scheme of things. He had not shared those particular details with Dick ahead of time, though, not wanting to deal with a back and forth when what they needed to do was get moving. He’d passed them along to Tim to get up on the Dark Web, and within a couple of days of the conversation in the Batcave, there was a hit up for Dick Grayson himself, aka Nightwing, and the buyer was offering payment up front rather than upon completion. If Slade was willing to take the contract legitimately, offering the money straight away would get him there. If, somehow, a streak of sentimentality Jason found it difficult to believe he possessed made him act instead to prevent the hit from happening at all, he’d certainly show up to meet the buyer. Either way, it got him where they wanted him to be. Dick, as they’d agreed, would be the ‘buyer’ he ended up meeting, and he even had the cash to play the part.

That was the easy part. The real difficulty had been deciding how the fuck to take Deathstroke down. Dick claimed he knew how he fought, and maybe he did, but that didn’t erase the fact that Slade was not only a prolific assassin and an absolute tank of a man, but was metahuman to boot. He wasn’t banking on Dick knowing him to be enough. Especially when Slade has personally handed Jason enough information while taunting him to make things much easier.

Poison, he’d said. It had to be one hell of a poison, too. Bruce had access to a whole cadre of neurotoxins, and if he had access, so did they. He’d let Tim run with the idea to mix up something that would have killed an elephant but probably not Slade Wilson. Hopefully. And if it did, Jason wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it.

Dick: It wasn't until Dick rendezvoused with Tim and Jason that he realized he was the target. He hadn't been involved with generating the hit or getting it out there in Slade's sphere. The Dark Web was familiar territory, but it might as well be Tim's backyard. There was no reason to check up after them when he trusted they could handle it themselves. Babs’ involvement made things a little weird, even though she’d known about his past with Slade for years.

The covert location was set up in the basement of the warehouse, just in case Slade already had eyes on it. That was one thing Dick was sure to arrange ahead of time. They needed to get inside first, unseen, so Slade wouldn't bail the second he realized it was all a trap. There was no way he could disguise himself well enough to not be recognizable - at least not to Slade - and he didn't even entertain the notion.

"Can't believe you ordered a hit on me," he said for about the fifth time, eyeing the toxin with a faint frown. "You said this is what was used on him last time?"

Tim: This was going to work. He reiterated it to himself yet again as he stood with Jason and Dick. They had planned it out and he had brought up every hole he could find in the plan so they could come up with contingencies. He'd been the one to get into Bruce's records of toxins, find the ones he thought would work together. He'd mixed up the cocktail that was going to slow Slade down. Deathstroke was difficult to take, but Tim had meant it when he had said they were capable of doing it. Deathstroke was just one man. They were a well-oiled machine.

"It had to be you," he said to Dick for the umpteenth time. "Either he gets off on taking you out, and we know he's tried before with Rose and with his fake Titans, or he comes here to see who's trying to take you out." If it was that latter... well that would be awkward but the potential for Deathstroke to do something or hurt someone was enough to justify the pre-emptive action they were taking. And Tim wasn't sure Deathstroke would ever say he came to protect Dick. So they'd never really know. It was an infuriating thought, as Tim deeply hated not knowing things, but it was a thought nonetheless.

He looked over to Jason. "Do you have the dart ready?" He asked. "Best case scenario, he takes his mask off and you can get him from a distance. Worst case, we'll have to jump him first and you'll have to stab him with it." He gave a little smile, teasing lightly, "Think you can handle it?"

Babs: She had cameras not only unseen on the three of them, but control of all the security cameras on the premises. To anyone but her, they were conveniently malfunctioning for the duration of this meeting. She wasn’t sure what to feel with all this, so instead of feeling, she focused on the job ahead of them. Deathstroke needed to be taken in, it was as simple as that. No matter how much she wished she could be physical backup, she’s more than relieved to have Jason and Tim with him. There was backup if, somehow, things went south and the assassin got the upper hand.

“Let’s just not make putting hits out on each other the usual, deal?” The smirk is practically audible through the comm as her eyes are trained on the cameras outside the property on her screen. After Damian’s slip up, she wasn’t looking away for a moment, not when everything was so important, “Tim’s right, for a master assassin, this was pretty predictable of him,” even if they didn’t know how he’d want this to end, getting here was predictable.

Jason: “We couldn’t risk him passing the contract up. It had to be something that had some kind of pull besides just cash.” Because when it came down to it, he had difficulty believing Deathstroke actually needed most of the money he raked in. “Can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind before though, Babs. No guarantees.”

Jason had his mask on, not to protect his identity anymore, but because it afforded some extra layer of protection if things boiled down to a real fight. Let Tim get his nose broken. Jason didn’t feel like it. In any case, it prevented either of them from seeing him roll his eyes. “Yeah, Tim, I’ll do my best to handle one dart.”

Dick: Now that things were getting down to the wire, Dick was quieter than usual. He kept looking at the time and he couldn't sit still. Instead he paced, his arms crossed over his chest, and tried to appear as calm as possible. He'd already taken a look at Slade's file and told Jason that Gordon might not be able to hold him. There was no evidence against Deathstroke and eyewitness testimony was shaky at best. This was a huge risk for what could possibly be very little payoff. It was one reason why Dick was second guessing the entire thing.

He did know that he didn't want either of them in a physical confrontation with Slade. "Don't move in unless you absolutely have to," he said sternly. "I'll get him to take his mask off."

Tim: Tim was about to speak when a piece of equipment he had rigged up to the security systems he'd placed around the warehouse pinged and he looked up. "He's here," he said simply. "Positions." Honestly, he was praying that the tranquilizer he mixed was as fast acting as it was supposed to be. If not... Jason was going to get the fight that Tim could see he was ready for by the way he was standing. "Right in the neck, Jay," he reminded, letting his calm settle over him as his eyes scanned the room for the umpteenth time for any contingencies they could use if this went awry.

Babs: Barbara sees movement on her cameras the exact moment she sees Tim perk up. “Alright, my mic’s off. Good luck.” she reminds everyone, and mutes herself. She knew they couldn’t be too careful with someone with the senses of Slade Wilson. She wasn’t convinced the other two would go unnoticed in the same vicinity, but this was the best bet they had, so she’d kept silent on that front. Not every plan was faultless, this one was no exception. As she watches Deathstroke enter, she folds her hands in front of her mouth and looks on.

Slade: Slade had taken the job not to kill Dick Grayson. That would be counterintuitive to every move he had made ten years ago. He had wanted a message sent so that he could quash the sentiments Nightwing had expressed to him that last night together. He had needed to do that so that Dick didn't end up scrubbed into the concrete by Deathstroke's boot or that of one of his enemies. He wasn't showing up to kill him if he wanted him to live.

Still, someone had had the audacity to take out this hit and someone had had the audacity to ask for Deathstroke specifically. Billy had told him what the job entailed, and the payout had been almost absurd. Dick was good, but he wasn't sure what he had done to land this kind of hit with this kind of payout on him. Not recently, at least. Regardless, Slade was going to find out. Because, in spite of himself, he had managed to shake off Dick having any kind of warm feeling beyond caring enough not to compromise his moral code so he could blow Slade's brains out when he was vulnerable. But that didn't mean that Slade had successfully shaken his own bullshit off. He had just known how to bury it. He wasn't going to turn down the job and let some other asshole get lucky. He could picture some blowhard like Floyd Lawton as the second choice. Not a chance Slade would take.

He should have known something was off when he stepped into the warehouse and it was quiet... removed, almost. He didn't trust it and he reached up to draw his katana even as he moved deeper into the facility. His heightened senses were on full alert and Slade's danger sense could tell that this was not some run of the mill business man. Who the fuck had called for him?

He figured it out mere moments before he pushed open the door to the next room. It was a steady thumping that he had all but memorized that tipped him off. Slade had heard Dick Grayson's heartbeat close to his own every day for a year. And before that he had known it in a less intimate sense as well. He was nearly certain he'd be able to pick it out of a group.

His eye confirmed what his mind already knew as he took in Dick Grayson not in his Nightwing suit, but in plainclothes. Two other heartbeats confirmed that they were not alone but he didn't belie he knew that yet. What was this about? Suddenly, it was not about protecting Dick. Now he was just curious. "What happened to call or text if you needed to tell me something, little bird?" He asked as he approached, eye on Dick even as he tried to pinpoint where the other bodies were.

Jason: He and Tim were to stay out of sight unless it became clear that Dick couldn’t handle himself. The toxin that Tim had mixed up was supposed to knock him out, but there was always a chance that Deathstroke wouldn’t go down as fast as they were anticipating or that somehow it wouldn’t work as intended. Still, Jason was up high in the ceiling until then, just close enough to where Dick was standing to have both a clear visual and the right distance for the dart to really stick.

Dick: The warehouse had a table and chair, but Dick knew he wouldn't be able to stay sitting. He was leaning against the table instead, the suitcase behind him, and when Slade walked in he tried not to show any outer signs of the tension he was carrying. He didn't want him to know Jason and Tim were also here. The fact that he was meeting up with him alone was only suspicious if he acted terse and professional, as if he were trying to hide something.

So he remained relaxed, not even reacting to the nickname he was sure would come up later. Jason and Tim might not be able to hear from their vantage points, but Babs heard everything. "I couldn't do this over the phone," he said simply. "And I wasn't sure if you would meet me. Besides, I guess it's always nice to know how much my life is worth." Dick had checked his phone plenty of times that day. Slade never bothered to warn him that someone had a contract on his head. It should come as no surprise, but it was a thought he couldn't shake even as he unzipped the suitcase to show the money inside. "Count it, if you want."

Slade: Slade didn’t take that bait. There was something going on here. “What’s this about, Dick? Did you miss me?” Was that why he was trying to get Slade to take a kill contract out on him? He might be the only one in the world who understood that, given that he had done the same thing to Rose not too long ago. Only he had taken out the hit.

“I haven’t agreed to the job yet,” he said simply. “Call me even showing up here curiosity.” It wasn’t that, but he wasn’t telling Dick that he had come here to possibly dispatch the moron trying to hire him. The moron was Dick. Go figure.

Dick: Something flickered across Dick's expression, but it was brief and he pushed past it. Instead of forcing apathy, he used the moment to turn away from the suitcase so he was facing Slade instead. He didn't answer the question. "I'm offering you a different job. Take the money. If you need more, I'll get more. Let me buy out whatever contract you have in Star City." As he spoke he moved closer, but was sure to keep his hands down by his sides. The way he was dressed made it nearly impossible to be hiding any weapons, unless he had a gun strapped to his calf. "I know you're lying about why you're here. I don't want to fight you, Slade. Just... take the out. For old time's sake."

Slade: Old time’s sake. Slade narrowed his eyes under his mask. Honestly... if Dick had the money, it was a valid way to get out. No hit to his reputation because Slade had never indicated that he couldn’t be bought out. Money was the point of the business. He had nothing against Kara. Why should he? He had wanted the 60 million. It was the only reason he had bothered to take on a Kryptonian. That and the desperation for any kind of challenge. Otherwise... there was nothing.

And... Dick had that annoying way about him. He still remembered how Dick had looked into his eye ten years ago and with every speck of earnestness asked Deathstroke to change... just because Dick wanted him to. It had struck him so deeply then. It still struck him now.

He could refuse it. After all, he hadn’t confirmed that he had a job at all, even if Dick was right. But there was no reason. Not beyond the consideration that there were two other people waiting here. Was Dick making a play?

Moving into Dick’s space, he cocked his head. “The buyout’s 60 million, little bird. And if I take it, I have your word that I’ll walk out of here? No questions asked?”

Dick: Even after finding out he'd been lied to and the fallout that happened afterward, Dick never felt afraid in Slade's presence. He wasn't in costume and he had no real defense against him, not physically, but he knew Slade wasn't going to kill him. What he believed years ago might not be true, but there was some reason Slade chose to let him live. Perhaps it was because he assumed Dick would be malleable enough to believe the lie he'd given him on the rooftop. Maybe he thought there was still something he could get from him.

"Take it, leave Star City for good, and I won't lift a finger to stop you." His voice was quiet and direct, even though having Slade all up in his space was disarming in ways Dick hadn't experienced in many years. He took a slow breath before saying even more softly, empathetically, "Please."

Babs: She’s silent to everyone on the comm line, and even in her apartment, but she bristles at the nickname and her eyes widen when she hears the offer. Still, she says nothing. She knows Slade would hear. But she also knows exactly how Dick was an idiot when it came to impulse and the heart, and it couldn’t exactly be described as soundly logical. She wants to speak up, tell Dick to focus, but she knew it was too dangerous. She knows she had to let this play out until things really escalated, and she still prayed they didn’t. Jason was there. Tim was there. He wasn’t alone. She continues to listen, suddenly quite relieved she was the only one that could hear all this.

Slade: "I'll take the money," he said. "But I won't leave Star City. Not with Rose here." He really would cancel the job, but he was tired. He had been doing this for so long now that he wanted the opportunity to stop for a while. Perhaps actually buying property in the city, going straight for a while until the money began to run out... maybe he might have a chance with his kid. Billy had berated him for weeks after the hit he had taken out on Rose. She was angry. And he had made her that way. However, his increasingly more common thoughts about his legacy had been dredged up even further when he'd been vulnerable. If someone had tried to pop him then, that would have been it. He would have left behind a whole lot of money and little else to show for it.

"But if I take it, I will drop any business in Star City." When he started to work again eventually, he could have the decency to not work in Dick's city. He had done it in Bludhaven. There were plenty of other places in the world where he could make money. "I'll give you my word." If Dick knew him at all, he would know that those five words were about as strong as a legally binding contract. Stronger even. "60 million dollars and you letting me leave here to try to set up something with my kid, and I will never do business here."

He only wondered if Dick would take it.

Dick: Dick wasn't sure if Slade would agree or not and he was both shocked and relieved when he did. He stared at him for a few seconds, thinking back to the conversation they had on the roof, and even though Slade didn't specify having a contract it was clear what business he referred to. It was still a strange choice that he would want to stay in Star City, but that wasn't something he would question right now. It didn't matter. He couldn't focus on anything beyond the situation at hand.

"Okay," he finally agreed, even though he half-expected Tim or Jason to take a flying leap from the shadows. He was relieved when they didn't. This could still be handled with minimal confrontation and conflict. No one was going to get hurt. There were too many thoughts in his head as he took a step to the side so Slade could get to the suitcase. "It should all be there."

Slade: Slade didn't move toward the money, watching Dick for a long moment before reaching up to pull off his mask. He had Dick's word that he was walking out. In spite of Slade's paranoia, he trusted Dick Grayson, so he set the helmet aside and reached up to catch a hand in the other's hair. Old times' sake. Did Dick still think of old times? He had hoped the answer was no, but Slade needed to confirm it. Was the lack of distance between them right now as palpable to Dick as it was to Slade.

"I'm doing this for old times, little bird," he told him quietly, the fingers in his hair tightening. "But I hadn't realized that you thought much of those at all." Was Dick showing some kind of hand? Slade might be, but he'd deny it if pushed.

Jason: Jason had the dart gun up and ready the second he saw Slade’s hand move up to his mask. They’d spoken a lot, longer than Jason had expected to need to wait, words he couldn’t hear, but he finally had his shot. Watching Slade actually reach out and touch Dick was like a signal on top of a signal.

With all the practice he’d had, Jason was an impeccable marksman, and he had a clear shot of Slade’s neck. He took it, and the dart cleared all the open air in a matter of a couple of seconds. As soon as the tip made contact with flesh, the neurotoxin would start working its way through him.

Dick: When he realized Slade was removing the helmet, Dick turned back to him suddenly, surprised, and his eyes widened when he touched his hair. He didn't say anything, but he wouldn't have warned him even if there were time to do it. That would have meant betraying Jason and Tim. He was so shocked by the barrage of thoughts and emotions that he didn't even know how to react, or what he would have said if he had the chance to give Slade an answer.

Jason was fast. Accurate. Dick winced when the dart hit its mark, his hand flying up to the side of Slade's arm as if he expected him to topple over right there. He shook his head, even though it was much too late. "Wait!"

Tim: Tim watched Jason fire from his own vantage point, zooming in on his mask to watch the hit land. Bullseye. Perfect. Now they just had to see if the toxin he had mixed worked. He moved to lithely get himself down, landing on his feet on the floor as he waited.

Babs: She turns her mic back on as soon as the dart was released, smirking only a second later, “Contact.” she confirms to the group as a whole. She’s careful to keep her voice even, because at this moment only her and Dick knew what was said to Slade. Considering she was already working from a new monitor, she wanted to keep it that way for a while, at least. After all, she’d had years to accept this, and she couldn’t blame Tim and Jason in this case. As soon as Dick speaks, she’s quick to respond, “He’s going down… damn, Tim,” She can see even the early stages through the camera, and she can’t help but be impressed. It sure took something to knock a man like Slade out cold.

Slade: Slade felt the bite of something in his neck and reached up to close his hand around the dart. He didn't have time to really figure it out, but he wasn't a moron so when his vision went double and then triple, he met Dick's eyes. "Didn't think... you had it in you, little bird," he slurred out before he felt a heaviness in all of his limbs that had his knees buckling. Shit.

Clumsily, Slade pushed back from Dick, trying to reach for his katana. What the hell had been in that dart? He didn't have time to ask before his knees struck the floor and then he landed in a rather ungainly sprawl on the floor of the warehouse, the sword skidding as it fell from his hand. He managed a final groan before he was out.

Tim: Tim watched the toxin take effect with no small measure of pride. "Awesome shot, Jason," he said as he came out of the shadows and pulled out a set of specially crafted manacles so he could cuff the unconscious Slade. "What did he say to you, Dick?"

Jason: Jason let himself down with a cable to make up for the distance and retracted it around the same time Deathstroke went down. “That was some potent stuff, Timbers. You could make a killing with that if it can take down Deathstroke.”

As far as he was concerned, the plan had gone off without a hitch, but he’d not entirely missed Dick reached for Slade’s arm in that last second. “One assassin, as agreed.” For his part, he walked over to the katana that Slade had no doubt meant for one of them and picked it up. With his free hand, he unclipped his mask and whistled. “And a bonus for me.”

Dick: Dick turned away without saying anything, zipping up the suitcase just to have something to do with his hands. "Good job." He couldn't make himself sound as enthusiastic as Tim even though he meant it. They listened to what he'd asked and didn't rush in before they had to. It could have been a lot worse. "I told him I wanted to buy him out of the contract," he finally said quietly. "And he agreed not to do business in Star City."

Frowning, he watched Jason with the katana and then looked over at Tim. "Remember what I said about his file? He's only wanted for questioning. He could walk out of jail today and we're back where we started, only he'll have it out for us. Maybe it would be the best option, under these circumstances..."

Babs: She watches them work, though continues to check the perimeter. When Tim asks what was said, she listens carefully and simply closes her eyes a moment. They’d talk later, she knew that much. They had more work to do, now. They had Deathstroke to get to the police department,which was a huge task in and of itself. She’s quick to chime in, “Well, you know, I know a guy. He’ll keep Deathstroke in there for as long as he can.” Though her voice holds a bit of humor in it, she scowls silently in her apartment. She wished privately that this one time they could just lock him up for good, technicalities aside. Still, that wasn’t reality, and the image of Jason ogling the swords makes her snort and brings her back to the present.

“Jason, are you really going to--” she pauses, sighs, and rolls her eyes, “...nevermind. Just hurry up. I don’t like an advanced metabolism and toxins combined.” Babs thrived on predictability, and though Tim had already more than proved he was fine, she was obviously antsy to get the job done.

Tim: Tim rolled his eyes as his middle brother. "Too bad I don't supply mercenaries. That was a one and done." He had the recipe and all of the ratios figured out, though. He could absolutely recreate it.

"All you have to do is give him money?" Tim asked Dick as he spoke. That... was that ethical? Would Slade actually keep his word? He looked down at the man before shaking his head. "I don't want him to just walk... But... How much would we need?" Bruce would kill them for this, though, wouldn't he?

As he watched Jason lift the sword, he shook his head. "You can't just steal from the guy, Jay. He's already probably going to try to kill us now."

Jason: Jason seemed undeterred. “So what, you buy him out, he leaves the city, keeps taking contracts somewhere else? Don’t tell me you’re getting Batman levels of narrow and only giving a shit about one city. How’s it better if we let him walk and he goes and kills...I don’t know, the daughter of a King somewhere. Is that cool because she’s not in Star City?” Was Dick’s problem that he didn’t want to have to look at it? That was cheap.

Jason tipped the blade back to rest it across his shoulder. “Yes, I’m really going to. Finders keepers. He’s going to jail.” And...he’d been thinking about that since Dick brought it up, but not in a way he wanted any input on. He’d come to some conclusions on his own.

Dick: Even though he wanted to say no, Dick knew he hadn't gone after Slade in all the years he was out in the world, taking contracts and doing hits, and that was something he tried not to dwell on. He knew Jason was right, so he just shook his head slightly at Tim's question since it wasn't an option they would be entertaining. He knew Babs was right in that Gordon would keep him for as long as possible, but it wouldn’t take long for Slade’s lawyers to show up and unravel everything.

"Okay, let's go," he said, handing Tim the suitcase before kneeling next to Slade. "Help me with him, Jay." His mood was still strangely subdued as he replaced the scene over and over in his head, but there was nothing uncertain in his demeanor.

Tim: "I have a car outside ready to transport us to the station," Tim said as he moved to grab a leg. "This went... so much easier than I expected." He was still trying to figure out what to do about the fact that Slade would probably walk the moment his lawyers showed up.

"What are you going to tell Jim?" He asked Dick. This was bound to look like something if they hauled Deathstroke in.

Babs: “Knock on wood with that comment,” Babs says wryly, but she can’t help but agree. This went… amazingly smooth, even if she had moments to talk about. At the end of the day, Deathstroke was in custody, and no one was bleeding. That was a resounding success.

“Somehow, I think the commissioner is going to accept the fact that he gets to question him and figure it out,” once again, the amusement is clear from her tone, though it doesn’t lose any seriousness, “Don’t count on too long, but it’s something.”

Jason: Not that Tim or Dick weren’t strong, but since neither of them put quite the same emphasis on brute strength that he did, Jason shouldered the bulk of Slade’s body after he’d secured the katana (which he was keeping) and headed out.

“How long do you think he’ll be held?” he asked Dick on the way out. He wasn’t counting on having more than 24 hours, but he needed at least a few.

Dick: Once they had Slade situated in the car, Dick sighed and rubbed his head. "I'll tell Gordon I came across him while patrolling the warehouse district, remembered he was wanted for questioning, and decided to take him in. I'll tell him a vigilante helped me get him subdued. No names." He wasn't bringing Tim, Jason, or Babs into this in any capacity. “As high profile as Deathstroke is, it makes more sense for Gordon to handle the interrogation.” There was no way he was going to do it.

Hesitating, he shook his head slowly at Jason’s question. "I don’t know. Not long. Gordon might hold him on some bogus charge, but I'll say a couple hours at least. He needs to sleep this off first. How long before he wakes up, Tim?"

Tim: "Couple of hours at least. At least... by my calculations." It seemed to be functioning as planned so far. So he assumed that it would keep doing so. "What are we going to do to make sure he stays in jail? I figure that's the goal?" He shrugged. "We have a little time to figure out what to do."

Jason: Jason said nothing else until they had Slade in the waiting car and he could stand up straight. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Gordon will get enough to hold him.” And even Slade’s lawyers weren’t going to be anticipating it. “I’ve got something else to take care of if you’ve got it from here. Won’t be long.” He needed to speak with Roy and dump his gear. All told, he could get to the station within the two-ish hour window.

Babs: She was quiet as they got Slade into the car. She listened, but she mainly thought quite a bit. Her mind was already preoccupied, and add on the things she heard in the conversation, she was worried. Still, more talk of her dad snaps her back to the present moment. She appreciates Jason’s vote of confidence, though doesn’t know where it’s coming from exactly. Still, she respected his privacy, and figured that getting him to go into detail wasn’t going to happen. “Call if you need anything,” she reminds him, “I have the cameras ready to go back on as soon as you all leave the area. The car being seen will be enough to back up your story. Nice work, everyone.”

Dick: “Thanks, Oracle.” Dick blinked when Jason said that and just stared at him. "Do you have something you think might incriminate him?" Or maybe Jason was going to get an eyewitness? That was possible, but he'd been right there with Slade that night. Maybe not at his side, but still. The thought made him wary. "We got it from here. Don't come to the station, Jay. They're looking for you, too, you know."

Tim: Tim looked down at Slade before nodding. "We can handle it, Jason," he agreed. "We don't want you in a jail cell too." He didn't know what Jason was planning, but he seemed to be acting shifty. What was going on? "What are you planning?"

Jason: “Don’t worry about it. See you guys later. Red Hood out.” With that, he cut his mic and silenced the three of them in his ear. He’d get Alfred to feed his dog. It’d be alright. Jason threw up one hand in a dismissive kind of goodbye and headed the opposite way, taking his phone out of his pocket as he did.

Dick: Frowning, Dick started to call after Jason to push for a concrete answer, but he already knew they weren't going to get anywhere. He slipped into the driver's seat and held his hand out for the keys. "Let's go. I don't want to take any chances of him waking up."

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #slade wilson #barbara gordon #c: discord

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kneesheee · 5 years

Text

Little Devil

warnings: cursing | vague references to child abuse | age regression

|two|

Jason stared down at the girl bowing before him. She was a foot and some inches shorter than him standing at a solid five feet. Her once milk chocolate colored hair was fanning around her face, but he didn’t concentrate on that. No, he paid attention to the white strip curling through her hair. He had no doubt that if she were to look up then her eyes would be glowing green.

“My apologies for declining to answer your messages,” she stated into the night. “I had not known that it was the Born-Again Prince that was attempting to contact me.”

“Mila,” he groaned exasperated. Jamila Al Ghul. Daughter of Nyssa Raatko and Slade Wilson after Ra Al Ghul decided to play mad scientist with his daughter’s genes. Sister to Conner Hawke/Al Ghul/Queen whichever one he was going by these days. The only friend he had made while in Talia’s care. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Did you honestly think that I was going to stop, dear cousin,” she questioned as she stood from her crouch. The two of them stared at each other before folding into a hug. It had been awhile since they had last seen each other. “Are the rumors true? Are you the new Heir to the Demon?”

Jason grimaced, “Yes. And before you ask, so are the rumors about Nyssa attacking Talia.”

Jamila sneered, “I always knew Mother held no honor. Despite my resentment of him, I am thoroughly grateful that Grandfather chose not to reveal my existence to either of my parents.”

Jason sighed and ran a hand across his face, “Despite everything, T is doing well and she’s safe. I need a favor from you though.”

His cousin slouched a little and crossed her arms, “The Big and Bad Red Hood needs a favor from mwah? Oh, whatever shall I be?”

“No need for the snark,” Jason crossed his own arms looking at her. Her own eyes glowed with the power of the pit behind them. He didn’t want to know how she ended up in such a predicament. He knew she could take of herself. He knew she could overcome the effects of the pit. If anything, it just made his skin crawl as recounted his own experience with the magical waters. “What I do need is for someone to be out there getting me intel. I need a link to the League so I can know Shiva’s process on helping T and if she needs any backup. I also need someone with ears on the ground for whatever it is Nyssa might be planning.”

“And pray tell, why you cannot do this yourself?”

“From what I’ve been told, I’m the reason that Nyssa attacked Talia. If I step outside of Gotham, then I’m going to have eyes on me everywhere. I need to keep a low profile.”

Jamila hummed as she looked him over. She ran a hand through her hair. “The wishing well near Ivy’s Garden. Whatever information I managed to get then that’s where I’m going to leave it.”

“Don’t you want to be the Heir instead, Mila?”

“Not a chance in Heaven or Hell,” she scoffed.

Jamila moved towards the edge of the rooftop the two of them were standing on. A slight breeze picked up and blew her hair through the air. She turned to look at him and the fierce expression on her face soften into something gentle, “Jason, do be careful. You may not be my cousin by blood, but you are the cousin of my heart. I will destroy the world thrice over if it meant that you keep some happiness.”

She fell backwards off the edge before he could give promise to her words. But he watched as she appeared a few buildings over and heading away from the streets of Gotham and he wonders if she can hear his silent pleads that she do the same.

When Jason made it back to the manor, he slipped in through the window leading to his old room. A quick glance at his bed and he could see Talia still lying there sleeping peacefully. Even in her sleep, she still looked like a warrior princess.

He sighed deeply. He needs to find a way to help her get back to her rightful age asap. But… but a part of him wanted to delay it as long as it was possible. He wanted to give her the childhood she should have had instead of the one she was forced to live.

He removed his boots and armor from his body before walking into the bathroom to slip into more comfortable clothing. He checked to see if Talia was still asleep before carefully moving two of the floorboards and placing the minimum weapons, he had carried on his person back in their place. With one last check on his charge, he reestablishes the rigged security system on the window that he made. Bruce and the others were so sure that the motion detectors would catch anybody sneaking onto the premises, but Jason learned his way around those from the very first moment he put on the pixie boots. At least with his security, whoever might try to break it would lose their fingers and then their life when Jason arrived to catch them.

Talia sacrificed everything for him. It’s only right that he repays the favor.

Jason made his way out the room with one more glance at Talia before softly closing the door. When he turned around, Cass was standing there. He quirked an eyebrow. “Guard duty,” was all she said.

He nodded his head and the two of them continued down the hallway. Making their way to the kitchen where the rest of the family had gathered before Jason left to make contact with Mila. Three days had already passed with Talia being stuck as a toddler and he was no close to figuring out how to help her. They had no knowledge if it was magic, science or even technology that made her this way.

“Ah, Master Jason, welcome back. Have a seat. I’ll bring out something for you,” Alfred greeted, walking off before Jason could protest. He shook his head with a fond smile and made his way to the dining room where the rest of the family was waiting.

“I’m just saying Bruce, we shouldn’t be distributing so many resources to help that-that woman after all she’s done to this family. It’ll be for the best to keep her as she is. At worst with our help, we can keep her from turning into the Talia we know today and at best, we can just ship her off to another family.”

It had been years since Jason had felt any effects from the pits. Maybe it had ignited after seeing the evidence on his cousin or maybe the anger he was feeling at Barbara’s words were strong enough to relight it. Either way, he could feel it nipping at the back of his mind... Staying there. Stagnant. It was more of a tool for him to use instead of a leash to control him.

“Look Gordon, I get you have your issues with Talia. But you don’t know jackshit about her and if you speak another word about her, then I’d happily show you exactly just how you’re not actually all that great.”

The rest of them startled not having noticed him come in, but he only had eyes for Barbara. He looked up to her. Cherished her even. She was his batgirl. But Talia was his mother and he wont stand for any ill will to her.

“Jason, what Babs was trying to say—” Dick began, but Jason rose a hand in the air. “She can speak for herself, Dick, and she made it perfectly clear how she felt. I’m making it known how I feel, and I won’t stand for any slander against her. You can speak about whatever problem you have with her on your own time, but so long as she’s here… so long as I am here, then you will keep your thoughts to yourself or leave her wellbeing to me and go back to playing with your computers.”

The two held a small staring match as she tried to gauge how serious he was, and he expertly conveyed the threat in his eyes to the next person that spoke on Talia negatively. She nodded her head at him before turning away. Jason took a deep breath and mentally pushed the pit away. He had been doing good and he didn’t need a relapse.

He kept on to his seat and thank Alfred as he placed his food in front of him. He said a quick blessing over his food just like Talia had demanded of him before he slowly began to it.

“Um, Jason, what did your contact say,” he heard Timmy ask from his seat. Jason looked up to see him typing furiously on his computer with one hand and reaching for the coffee cup that Cass was carefully keeping out of his hands.

“She didn’t tell me much and I didn’t press for much. What she did say is that the rumors about who the new Heir is and how fast the information surrounding Nyssa’s attack is spreading.”

Everyone’s brow furrowed. To know that there was someone out there that might be getting ready to start the biggest war in the criminal world was frustrating. They didn’t know who they were looking for or what to expect from them.

“Well, did she at least tell you who the Heir was,” Stephanie questioned. All eyes turned to him and he narrowed his eyes at her. He took great care of what he alluded with his body language before he answered. Heaving a deep sigh and taking on a look of exasperation, he set his fork down and ran a hand through his hair.

“I already knew who the Heir was and believe me when I say they want nothing to do with the title.”

Tim went back to typing on his computer, “Still it would be good know who the Heir is just in case they cause trouble later down the line.”

Jason scowled at the brat, and here he thought Timmy was his favorite. He then sent a silent prayer of forgiveness to Jamila and he swore he could her sharpening her knives and cursing at him. Jason sighed as if he was exhausted with the topic and didn’t want to let this particular amount of leverage go. “Her name’s Jamila. You’d probably find better information on her if you looked up Death Demon. It’s her code name, but she’s even more of a ghost in the underground world than the Winter Soldier from your comics, Timmers. But she is real. I met her a couple of times while training with the League. She put a knife to my throat and told me to stop killing all of her teachers before she got finished punishing them.”

“Am I the only one trying to figure out why Jason seems to be on first name basis with assassins,” Dick exclaimed.

Jason snorted, “I was one myself, Dickhead. I worked directly under Talia before she let my leash go and set me out on the world. Hell, in some parts, I’m still considered one. There are many places that are living in fear afraid of the Red Ronin to come back and rain down vengeance.”

“I don’t think that’s something to be proud of,” Duke muttered from his spot at the table.

Small patter of feet caught everyone’s attention and Jason looked over to the doorway to see Talia peeking in. Her features were twisted in a scowl and Jason was sure that only he and Cass could see the fear lurking in her eyes.

He rose up from his seat immediately catching her attention and then she disappeared. When he sat back down, he pushed his chair further from the table to catch the small body that landed in his lap.

“Hello, تاليا,” he muttered as he scooted back near the table. She laid her head on his chest and whispered, “Hello, Jason” in English. Jason nearly cried with joy. In the past three days alone, she had spoken in French, Spanish, German, Greece, Swahili and Chinese. Sometimes she would switch languages mid-sentence. It was nice to know that she could speak English also though he still felt like a scolded kid whenever she rose a brow at him when he stumbled from her dialect switch.

He handed her the fork in his hands and let her eat the fruit off his plate. Another thing everyone learned was that she was a vegetarian. But she had spoken to him in silence and broken words that Ra had already been training such weakness from her and forcing her to eat meat. She hates it but she won’t go against her father.

“Hi, Talia. I’m Stephanie!”

Right, despite that they had been here for three days coming and going because like hell was, he going to spend the night at the manor… Talia successfully managed to avoid everyone in the house. Everyone except Alfred and Tim that is. She had told him that watching them concentrate on their task was soothing and orderly. It reminded her of home.

She looked up at Stephanie with a blank stare before looking back at Jason. “It’s up to you.”

“Bright.”

Jason nodded his head, “Hey, Steph. Tone it down a little.” He looked backed down at Talia who nodded her head. “Hello, Stephanie.” The girl in questioned almost squeal in delight before the rest of them started to introduce themselves.

When Damian introduced himself, Talia blinked before leaning his direction. She turned back to Jason, “He looks like Mother’s brother. Family?”

Jason pretend not to notice the emotions in Damian’s eyes. He knows that the boy knows little of his Grandmother’s family. “He is my brother.”

“Potential,” she stated with a raised brow. “Worthy of Nobutora name.”

Talia smiled lightly at Damian before she disappeared from his lap and the sound of her feet were heard back in the hall as she headed back to the room. Jason turned to look at Damian who was staring after his mother with a shocked look on his face.

“She had never told me that before.”

Jason crouched down beside him, “It doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

He ruffled the kid’s hair and gave thanks to Alfred for the dinner. He walked out of the room with everyone else wondering what Talia told Damian. “Call me if you get a lead or anything,” he called behind him.

He needed to get back to his apartment and give Talia her bath before they settled in for the night. The Bats could handle patrol for one more night.

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