The first time I uploaded this into my Doc Manager something went wrong and it basically broke into chunks of code so my original authors note went with it. That's okay, just insert a bunch of excuses for nothing being done besides this. Moving, Netflix, blah blah blah. At least technically this is still a once-a-month time frame. This chapter also has a lot of my favorite parts in it. Enjoy.
In less than a month, a new job was scheduled, and it was simple enough that Slade felt confident that Jericho could come along. They would be stealing something- not Deathstroke's usual contract, but this was for some particularly expensive information, stored on a computer in the state's most high tech facility. It would be heavily guarded, and it was likely that they'd have to use force. Therefore, Slade was having Jericho brush up on every possible skill he could, to be sure they would be prepared.
Jericho had never been through this type of thing; previously he'd mostly been used as a soldier or a bodyguard. Now, he would be an apprentice, Slade's partner-in-training. His skills were there, but he'd have to get some experience out in the field, before he was really at the level he needed to be. Slade was sure he would handle himself just fine, of course, but it would take some getting used to.
"Your form is fine but you aren't focusing at all," Slade said, frowning slightly at the teen. Jericho was hitting pretty close to the center on all the targets, but normally he was dead-on, near perfect.
"Sorry, sir," the boy answered simply, voice a bit quiet. "I'll do better." He raised his gun, shooting the next target with his usual level of precision. He picked up a magazine to reload, but Slade stopped him.
"That's enough for today. I would like to talk to you about the upcoming contract."
The blonde gave a curt nod, following the man into the other room, where they'd first taken a break to talk so many weeks ago. Files were laid out on the coffee table, but Slade gathered them up and set them aside. Slade sighed softly; he could see that Jericho was starting to shut down again, moving almost mechanically with an empty expression. Slade couldn't let him be like that, like how he was before, and he had to get to the bottom of it. He sat down across from the blonde, just as before.
"Jericho, what's making you lose focus? Are you worried about this mission?"
"Not at all, sir," Jericho answered, but his face was still blank. Slade pressed further.
"Something is going on in your head," the man said, "and I want to know what it is."
Green eyes shifted down, out of sight, and it didn't seem as though Jericho would answer without a little more prodding, so Slade continued.
"I remember what you said, when I first asked you if you enjoyed killing. You had never thought about it before, you'd only done what you had to in order to survive. Is that right?" A tiny nod. "So, now that some time has passed, and you've had the opportunity to live a more free life, I assume you've had the time to reevaluate your thoughts and feelings, so I am going to ask you again. Do you enjoy killing?"
Jericho still didn't look up, and he was as still as a statue for a moment, looking particularly pale. "Y-... Yes, I do…"
The words barely made it out of the boy's mouth, as if he'd had to choke them out. His body was tense, looking unnaturally stiff. None of this was lost on Slade, and he knew that it was a lie, which puzzled him a bit. Before, when they had just met, the boy had freely admitted that he was unsure about how he felt. Why would he lie now?
"Tell me the truth, Jericho," Slade said firmly. "I don't like being lied to."
Startled green eyes flashed up at Slade, because clearly the teen didn't think his lie had been that obvious. He immediately showed signs of distress, ducking his head back down, his breathing becoming a bit shallower. His mouth moved, trying to form words, but it didn't seem they would come to him. His father patiently waited, willing to stay here all night if he had to.
"I…" Jericho's voice broke. He shook his head fiercely. "I'm sorry! Please don't send me back!"
Now it was Slade's turn to be surprised, which didn't happen often. "Who said I was sending you back?"
The boy looked up once more, eyes filled with tears. "I- I don't want to kill people anymore!"
"That doesn't entirely answer my question," Slade said. "Why would I ever send you back?"
"B'cause-" the boy hiccupped, trying to stay in control of himself. "You said you wanted an apprentice, someone to replace Grant, and follow in your footsteps. You kill people for a living, and if I can't do it too, then you won't need me anymore."
Slade took this in, and it made sense. No wonder the boy had been acting so odd. "So, you were prepared to keep doing it? To shut down and follow orders like you did before?" Jericho nodded, quickly, still sniffling. "You forgot one thing. What's the difference between me and all your previous masters?"
Jericho's eyebrows furrowed. What a question! There were loads of differences, almost everything about him was different. Deathstroke was better at what he did than anyone else Jericho knew. He was faster, and stronger, and smarter. Those were all obvious answers, but Slade rarely wanted the obvious answers. Another difference- when he asked Jericho a question he didn't expect the boy to bark back a quick, trained answer. He only asked questions he wanted real, thought-out answers to. He treated Jericho different as well, he was much kinder, but in some ways still stricter. He actually cared like no one had before, because…
"You're my father," Jericho said after a moment of thought, some realizations coming to him. Did this mean-?
"You're my son," Slade confirmed. "You were gone for years, and I only happened to find you by chance, but that doesn't mean I will ever let you out of my sight again. Just because you don't want to be an assassin, doesn't mean you can't still be a mercenary in other ways. You're very skilled, and it would be a shame to let that go to waste. Most importantly, though, I love you, and no matter what I'll never, ever lose you again, do you understand?"
Joseph swallowed a lump, only able to nod in response. He wouldn't be cast aside because he didn't want to fulfill his duties. The man had high expectations, but he was already more forgiving than anyone else when it came to Jericho missing some of those. There had been missions in the past that Jericho had failed, even ones that he couldn't have possibly completed, but no matter what the excuse was, there was always a punishment. He managed to speak softly.
"You… aren't mad? You aren't going to punish me for it?"
"For this?" Slade shook his head. "No. I should have guessed, knowing you. It was never in your heart as a child and I can't imagine why that would change now, even after all you've been through. Even if you change your mind about everything, and want to live a normal life, I won't punish you, and I won't let you go. No matter what happens, you will stay with me for as long as you wish. I promise."
Jericho calmed down after a few more breaths, taking in this information. When he'd stopped crying, he spoke up. "I want to stay with you, and I think I'd like to go with you on missions, just without killing anyone."
Slade nodded again. "Good, I'd hoped you'd feel that way. You can continue to work with me and learn new skills, but you can only come out on missions with me under one circumstance. I won't lose you again, so I want you to be armed, in case something goes wrong. If you're in danger, I fully expect you to protect yourself, even if it means killing someone. Is that a deal?"
Jericho nodded. "Yes, I can do that." It wouldn't be a problem, after all. He still had the resolve to kill, if his life was in danger. If nothing else, he had a strong will to survive after all these years.
It was so easy to work with Deathstroke, and follow his lead. Much easier than Jericho could have expected. True, they'd practiced maneuvers and gone over every detail a thousand times, but so many things about this outing were a first for the boy. He wasn't out to kill, he wasn't a bodyguard or a pawn. They were here to steal, and for the first time he could remember, Jericho truly felt like an equal- a partner. Thinking about it made his heart soar a little.
Of course Slade was still in charge, Jericho was still the student, but that was more than he'd been to anyone in a long time. Although Slade had made it clearer to him with each passing day, it was finally sinking in with this mission. Most masters acted differently under pressure, out in the middle of the action, and Deathstroke was no exception. Throughout the years it'd always been Jericho's opportunity to see the true nature of those who owned him on the first mission, and see how they acted with him.
Deathstroke was cool and collected. He seemed calm, though to someone who'd been observing him so closely like Jericho had, it was clear that he was tense. Not out of fear, but out of focus and drive. His reflexes were sharper, his movements even more deliberate. He was not a man to be trifled with. His attitude, however, stayed the same. He moved with Jericho, taking the lead but never leaving the boy out of the action.
The way their plan was thought out, Slade really did need him there. Jericho was sure that the man could have handled it himself and should anything bad happen, he'd still manage, but he didn't do all the work nor did he leave all the work to the boy. They were balanced, working together in sync like two halves of a pair of scissors.
"So far, we've evaded all security," Deathstroke said in a voice so low that only his metahuman son could hear him. He was back in his old uniform, with a cloth mask, armed to the teeth, though mostly for show since they wouldn't need that much firepower.
Jericho was dressed in something simple; black, silver, and blue armored kevlar with considerably less weaponry. He wore his own mask, but his eyes were uncovered should he need to use his power. He still adamantly refused to consider it, but Slade insisted that he leave himself the option, just in case. He did take note of the reluctance, and could only guess why. It must have been trained out of him to ever even consider using such a power, or it just frightened him. Either way, he wouldn't press it but he would try and work on helping Jericho overcome that fear, too.
They were up against a wall, a few corridors away from their goal. "We may get in and out without needing to use force after all," Slade said.
When all was clear they hurried through the shadows into an office. Jericho stood guard while Slade hacked into the computer to copy all the files onto a pocket-sized drive. The man was back out again in less than two minutes, and before Jericho knew it they were back out on the roof, where they wouldn't be seen.
"That was it?" he asked, picking up the duffle bag and digging out street clothes. "No one even saw us, we didn't have to fight anyone or run."
"That's the idea," Slade said, taking out some of his own clothes to put on over the uniform. "This was simple, and it went very well. However, until we get this back to our client we aren't in the clear yet. We have to make it back home. You remember the rest of the plan, don't you?"
"Yes sir," Jericho nodded, removing his mask and putting it into the bag. "We split up and meet back at base."
"Good boy. Draw no attention to yourself," the man reminded him, picking up the bag. The sweats combined with the bag to make it seem like he was on his way to or from a workout. It would be weird if there wasn't a 24-hour gym close by. Jericho had baggy jeans and a t-shirt, looking like any other teenager you might see on the street. "Be careful, and don't act suspicious."
"Obviously," the blonde said dryly. Slade snorted, taking it lightly. "See you back home."
They each made it off the roof without being seen, leaving separately and in opposite directions to make their way back home. Walking together at this time of night might call a little more attention to themselves, and according to Slade, travelling by rooftop wasn't a good idea with a certain 'little bird' around.
Personally, Jericho had never stopped thinking about the Titans. It was one thing for adults to wear a cape and put their lives at risk without even getting recognition for it all the time (or a paycheck for that matter) but Jericho couldn't understand why teenagers would do it. The way he saw it, most adults were assholes, and the JLA in particular was made up of jerks. Sure they saved a ton a people, but they sure hadn't done him or Ace or any of the other Cadmus kids any favors. They only looked out for certain people, it seemed. The 'good citizens', not some lab rats with no names that no one will miss.
So, then, where did that leave the Titans? Jericho didn't believe they were jerks, at least not yet. They seemed like him. They had superpowers, and training, but they were still kids. He still wondered, a lot, about why they did it. The big question. He thought over it as he walked, since he didn't often get time to quietly think. He had a few ideas on why they might be doing it, none of them very flattering. Maybe they were, in a certain way, weapons, just like he had been. Perhaps not as strictly forced, but pressured to take on their roles and act on the League's commands to wipe out villains. Villains like Jericho and Slade.
Slade had said himself, he didn't want the Titans to know about Jericho yet, worried that they would act under the desires of their superiors and try to capture him and put him back into another high security facility. It wasn't impossible, but somehow Jericho didn't believe it was quite like that. At least, he didn't want to believe it. Maybe he just hoped it wasn't true, maybe he thought he saw more of himself than the JLA in the Titans. He'd practically memorised the files, trying to get to know them from afar. He wanted to think that they were rebels, in a sense, playing by their own rules and not answering to their mentors. It seemed kind of plausible, based on the files.
And yet, he still didn't have a good answer. Why did they do it? Why did…. He nearly stopped in his tracks. Why did he do what he did? He wasn't even that sure anymore… He shook his head. He was going through a lot of change, he'd already spent a lot of time reevaluating his life and what he wanted. For now he wanted to be with his father, and he was happy to participate in missions. It was all he'd ever known, he couldn't give up a life like that all of a sudden. It was complicated, but his life was better now. Maybe it was the same for them in a way? No, there had to be more to it than that…
Beyond the sounds of the city at night, Jericho thought he heard something. It didn't quite fit among sounds of traffic and bars and nightlife. He listened, trying to hear it again. It sounded like crying, maybe? The quiet, sniffly kind, like from a small child. He frowned, trying hard to pinpoint where it was coming from. He walked down the street a half a block, listening hard. He had heightened senses, but they weren't exactly superhuman. He peered into an alleyway he thought it might be coming from, seeing no one. However, when he heard it again it was definitely coming from here. He stepped in, peering through the dark into corners. Behind a dumpster, there was movement and a sniffle. He glanced around, and then carefully crouched down.
"Hey? Are you okay?"
A formless bundle, which turned out to be a blanket of some kind, suddenly developed a face. And a voice. "Go away!"
"What are you doing out here this late all by yourself?" he asked. He was kind of baffled by the concept of a small child being out here like this. Jump was supposed to be a more 'friendly' city, lower crime rates and less homeless people than most people. Just more monsters made out of sewage and cement.
"Go away!" the child said again, poking their head up out of the blanket, revealing chin-length dark hair. Jericho felt a pang in his heart, though was too distracted to realize why, yet. It was a girl, by the looks of things, so at least he had a slightly better idea of who he was dealing with. She sniffed again, and it was clear that she wasn't crying, she had a runny nose. "Leave me alone! I'm hiding!" she hissed.
He frowned again. "Hiding? From who?"
"Everyone," she said, growing muffled as she ducked her head back under the blanket. Jericho stood there, staring at the bundle for a moment. Despite what she'd said, the child seemed more annoyed than actually scared. She was hiding to stay out of sight, not out of pure fear. Jericho could relate to that. He knew he should just leave it be and walk away, it was none of his business after all. It wasn't a part of his duties, and besides, what was he even going to do? Walk her down to the police station? Hell no, that would be suicide. He probably couldn't do anything at all, but something was really bugging him about it.
"El-sie!" A voice called out, from not too far off. "Else!"
Jericho tensed, the bundle curled up tighter, and soon a man was standing at the end of the alley. He was kind of tall, but wiry. He looked dirty and his clothes were kind of ratty, but it seemed like they were meant to look 'fancy'. He had gold chains and rings and a watch, and even a gold tooth. Jericho had seen his type before, and his frown deepened. The man's expression reflected his own.
"Blondie, you seen a kid runnin' 'round here? Scrawny lil' brat, dark hair?"
"What for?" Jericho asked coldly.
"None of your business," the man sneered. "But you've seen her, haven't you?"
The blonde remained still, not even glancing away, yet the man seemed to know that the girl was there. He pushed his way forward, glaring sharply.
"Move! Get out of here, blondie, it ain't none of your business," he growled, shoving past Jericho and snatching up the blanket, leaving the girl exposed. She let out a small shriek of involuntary surprise.
"Leave her alone," Jericho suggested flatly. He knew what kind of guy this was, and that kind of guy didn't have any good plans for any girl, or woman for that matter. Or whoever he 'employed.'
"Piss off!" the man said, reaching down to snatch the girl. "She belongs to me. Her mama works for me and this lil bitch ain't goin' nowhere!"
It struck a chord in him, sending a cold wave through his body. One swift punch was all it took, the pimp went down like a bag of flour, without a sound. His nose was bleeding, and it made his breathing come with a gurgle as he lay slumped on the ground. He was lucky to be breathing at all.
"People aren't property…"
The girl shrieked again, darting off. Jericho wasn't even thinking about any of it. He walked to the end of the alley, wondering if he should try and chase that girl down before anyone else caught her. His thought was cut short when a figure swooped down in front of her, almost a whole block away. Yellow, red, green…. Jericho swallowed, feeling more tense than he had facing the pimp.
The girl halted, but didn't run away from Robin. Of course not. He was a damn icon, a genuine hero, especially in this city. Possibly one of the most recognizable teens in the country, and no one even knew what he actually looked like, behind the mask. The girl might have been the least trusting kid of her age in the whole city, but even she seemed to reluctantly trust the Boy Wonder.
Well that solves that problem…. Jericho pulled up his hood, walking away while Robin was distracted. He got kind of far before the other teen shouted after him.
"Hey, wait! Get back here!" Jericho didn't hear footsteps chasing him, so he didn't speed up his pace. Yet. "I saw what happened, you're not in trouble! You have to stay here- you have to tell the cops what happened!"
To his own surprise, even though he didn't stop walking away, a small part of Jericho actually wanted to go back. He wanted to meet Robin, interact with him even through the guise of actually giving a shit about testifying against a pimp. He would have a chance to get to know Robin a little bit in person, not just as a file on the computer. And….there was something else that he couldn't quite place his finger on.
Robin seemed more concerned about staying with the girl and the unconscious scumbag than chasing Joey down, so the blonde made it home without any issue. His thoughts were churning around in his head, feeling like cement. It was frustrating, being on the brink of so many ideas but too tired and frayed to put them all together. He reported nothing to Slade, not wanting the man to get suspicious or worried. It was strange to hold something back like that. A little thrilling. Jericho went to bed, feeling a bit warm from a job well done, and the acknowledgement of it from Slade himself. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, thinking one thing.
I think I can almost understand why, now….
Jericho needed to say something, that was pretty obvious. Truthfully, Slade had been waiting all morning for him to spit it out. Of course he didn't say anything out loud, not wanting to pressure the boy. When he did finally speak up, the man was surprised.
"D-ad?"
The word fell awkwardly out of his mouth, breaking into two syllables as if halfway through his brain tried to stop his mouth, but it was too late. Actually that was pretty much what happened. It was becoming easier to think of Slade as a father, but he'd never really said it outloud before. He flushed slightly, looking down and hesitating, feeling slightly mortified that he'd said it outloud.
Jericho and Slade were working on plans for the next contract. It was scheduled very much ahead of time, but to Deathstroke that only meant more time to plan out every detail. It was to take place overseas, somewhere in Europe. Jericho didn't yet know what it was, but he had other things on his mind. Slade looked up from his laptop at him.
"What is it?"
Jericho was still trying to gather his thoughts into words. Communicating and expressing himself so freely was still difficult. For most of his life, his thoughts had been his own- the only things that were his own. However, he didn't speak unless spoken to. No one asked his opinion, and he didn't ask questions or share ideas. And now, of course, things were different with Slade in this area as well. He was still learning how to speak up, and to not feel too afraid to ask questions when he needed to. Sharing ideas was as mortifying as ever, but Slade only responded encouragingly, making it easier bit by bit.
Yet, the simple act of turning abstract thoughts into structured sentences was difficult at times. Jericho might know exactly what he wanted to say and express, but wanted to do so in a way that he knew would be understood. Thus, everything he ever said freely to the man was sure to be thought out very carefully.
"When you were looking for me- for someone to-" he gestured, as he often did, still not looking up. He let out a breath and started over. "When I was with Cadmus…. There were other kids there."
Slade listened as patiently as ever. Jericho needed patience, and despite his usual temperament, Slade found it so incredibly easy to give it to him. Most likely because it was his own son, whom he was still happy to see alive again. Perhaps also because it was still so clear that he was recovering from his past life that even Deathstroke the Terminator had enough heart to go easy on him. When it was clear the boy was done speaking, Slade began the usual task of trying to decipher precisely what it was that Jericho was asking.
"Yes, there were others…. I picked you because you were the best for what I had in mind."
Slade's first guess was that Jericho was once again feeling insecure, and therefore proceeded to answer in such a way. It didn't turn out to be as simple.
"No, I know that…" Jericho mumbled. "But you did a lot of research, right?"
Slade gave a single nod. "Yes, I did. As much as I could; not all the information was available, but I got everything I needed to complete the task of tracking you down and taking you with me. I always do my research, like we are now."
The second attempt wasn't so much a guess as it was a way of pushing the conversation forward. Jericho always got to the point sooner or later. Slade just always hoped he would get better at getting to it sooner over time. Luckily, the third time's the charm.
"Do you know what happened to the other kids?" Jericho asked after a moment of silence.
There was the real question. Now Slade could give a real answer. "No, I don't. All the information was deeply buried. To track down even you took me several weeks, and that was before I could actually go out and start looking, which also took several weeks. To find out what happened to any individual at Cadmus, child or scientist, or businessman, would take just as long. The entire place was both buried and erased from nearly all records. A lot of people don't want anyone to know the program ever existed, let alone anyone involved."
Jericho was silent, which didn't worry Slade. Jericho was a boy who never talked much, and the man just assumed he didn't have anything else to say on the subject. His curiosity could very well have been sated. He turned back to his work, and it was quiet for a while. He must have been thinking hard about what he wanted to say next, because the next point he made he got across on one try.
"I want to find them."
"No beating around the bush this time," Slade commented to himself as he once again stopped what he was doing to face the boy on the other side of the table. He let out a breath. "Jericho, I just told you that It took a month to dig up anything useful on you, just one person. It would take at least as long, if not longer, to find anyone else. We're leaving the country sooner than that, on an important contract that will take up too much of our time. It simply can't be done."
There was a look in Jericho's eyes, something like disappointment but not quite. It was purely...childlike. A look of heartbreak that Slade had never seen in any child over the age of five. Naturally, it took him by surprise to see it on a teenaged assassin, even one that was formerly Joey Wilson, the most kind-hearted child there had ever been. It made Slade feel something he rarely felt- guilt. Yes, he was suddenly full of the same feeling new parents get when they tell their toddler no for the first time, and have to face the puppy-dog eyes and a quivering lip. Not that Jericho's lip was quivering, just yet…
"Jo- Jericho," the man continued, "I can see that it's very important to you, but you have to understand that there's no room in our schedule for such a large task right now." The blonde's expression changed, from heartbreak to something with a hint of defiance. Better nip it in the bud. "I'll tell you what. Make your case. Give it some thought, and in a day or two, I want you to give me a list of reasons to take on such a task, in what ways it would be worth the time, and why you want to do it at all. Tell me everything you can think of, and convince me to agree to it."
Jericho's expression brightened a bit, and he already seemed full of reasons to go, only just barely holding back due to the emotional strain he was under from expressing himself so boldly in the first place. Jericho only seemed to say so many things in a day, plus this was obviously important to him, and he wouldn't dare blow his chance. He gave a firm and determined nod.
"Alright. I can't promise I'll agree, but I'll give you a chance to argue on your own behalf. In return I will give you a list of my own reasons as counter-argument. Agreed?" Another nod. "Good boy. Finish listening to those French tapes and working on that device, and then we'll see about getting something to eat for dinner."
It was more than a few days. It was almost a week. Jericho put every free thought (and some wasted ones, when he was bored of his research and assignments) into coming up with his argument. It was hard. He knew he wanted it with all of his heart, even if it was still hard to pin down the full reason. He realised why he'd reacted in a way to protect that girl, Elsie. She reminded him of Ace.
He'd failed to protect Ace, and now he didn't know where she was. He didn't know where any of the others were. He had never even known or met all of them, but he knew they existed. And, if he'd been locked away in such awful conditions since the JLA took over, there was a high possibility that at least some of the others had been locked up too, if not all of them. The fact that it was such a well-guarded secret was suspicious as well. Surely if the Justice League rescued a bunch of kids, they wouldn't mind people knowing about it.
The others were most likely in danger, locked away somewhere, maybe even back in the hands of some nasty people. Jericho wanted to save them. He wanted to find them, and make sure they were safe. If he was the only one who'd been rescued after all this time, he was the only one who could, and he needed Slade to help him do it. Both the man's resources and skill set would make it possible. Jericho just had to sell him on the idea.
He knew Deathstroke the Terminator wasn't a hero-type who rescued kids for fun. The fact that he rescued Jericho had been for his own gain, and it was just a happy coincidence that it had reunited them as father and son. Maybe that proved there was a softer side to him? A side that could be convinced to rescue other kids for the right price?
What was that price? Obviously Jericho couldn't pay him to do it. He had nothing of his own, besides basic things. Everything he did have, his father provided for him anyway. Jericho had to think of other things Slade could gain from this, and that's what he spent most of his time thinking about. It wasn't easy, and he couldn't think of many things at all. Mostly he felt that he had to do it. He needed to find and help them, to protect them He was the only one that really could.
These thoughts circled around in his head, and he knew he had to put them into words somehow. Make Slade understand how important this was to him. He felt semi-confident that Slade would listen…. He'd done well listening to Jericho so far and had never shot down any of the few ideas the blonde had ever shared, as long as they were thought through.
He just had to convince Slade to play the hero a little bit. He had to…
"Alright, I'm listening," Slade said. "Convince me that I should put months of effort into this when we're about to take on a big job overseas."
No pressure, then… Jericho looked down at his hands folded in front of him on the table. Slade was sitting patiently across from him, attentive. Jericho swallowed, letting out a breath, and reaffirming with himself how badly he wanted this, hoping that somehow his desires would leak into his words and reach Slade.
"I understand that we can't abandon the current contract, and I don't want to do that," he started. "And, I know that we're probably travelling too far be of much help to any of them, but I don't want to abandon them either. I have to try."
Slade remained silent, skeptical. He felt an urge to criticize the use of phrases like 'have to', and 'abandon them.' It certainly wasn't something Slade thought they had to do, nor did they owe anyone anything. Still, he kept it to himself. Jericho was expressing some thoughts he'd been formulating for a long time now, and Slade didn't want to burst his bubble, so to speak. He gave a nod, signaling for Jericho to continue, though the blonde was clearly nervous.
"Well… Maybe it doesn't seem like much but I feel like you could gain from helping them," Jericho pointed out. "I mean, everyone there was like me, you know?"
"Elaborate on that," Slade pressed.
"I'm skilled… That's why you went looking for me, right?"
"I went looking for you, a trained assassin. Not a child turned science project," Slade reminded him. "What do you think any others might have to offer that you don't? As far as I'm concerned, I already found the best one, I don't need to go back for the others."
Jericho faltered for a few moments, blinking rapidly at the compliment, no matter how indirect. Slade didn't say nice things all the time, sure, but he had said more kind things to Jericho than anyone he could remember before. It still made his heart swell a little, and he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts.
"I know you aren't looking for anyone else, but maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing if you did?" he continued once more. "I'm not saying you should take them all in, or any of them at all, but… We take on rescue missions sometimes, don't we?"
"If you recall, rescuing isn't my forte… and besides that, I only take on what I will either get paid for, or what might benefit me," the man countered. "Obviously, they were all hidden away, and a lot of people never want them found again, so no one is paying us to do this. And, since I'm not looking for another apprentice, I can't see anything to gain from it. Do you?"
He was pressing hard, and the blonde was struggling to keep thinking of things to say. No matter how many times he'd rehearsed it in his head, he knew this would be a stumbling block he might not be able to hurdle. All along he'd hoped that somehow he could say exactly the right words to convince the man to go along with it, despite the lack of anything to gain from it.
"I… There's nothing…" he admitted very quietly, not looking up. "Nothing I can think of for you to gain."
"Then what about you? Might you gain something from it? Surely you must, since you want it so much."
Jericho blinked again. He hadn't really thought of that. He couldn't think of anything obvious he might gain, but somehow he still felt like there would be more in his life if he did this. Maybe not more money or power, but something… He tried to pinpoint what it was, but all he could picture was Ace, falling to the floor back at Cadmus, and Elsie, tucked against the dumpster. He thought for a few minutes, putting together the right words.
"I couldn't protect Ace…" he started, his voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to save her. I got the idea that I could pick her up and run away… maybe we would find some of the others on our way out and we could all get away…. I never got the chance…" He swallowed hard, his voice becoming thicker. "For as long as I could remember I just wanted to run away but I never could, never even tried because…. Because when I did I never got away and it only made things worse. I wanted for someone to come find me and help me but the only people who ever took me away from one place only brought me to a worse place than before."
He stopped, sniffling slightly. Tears rolled down his face, but Slade didn't say anything, he just listened carefully, letting Jericho get it out.
"I know where the Justice League put me, and if they did that to even one more kid, I need to help them. No one else knows about it but us. No one else would even think to look for any of them. You never looked for me because you thought I died. No one is looking for them- I have to. I need to find them… I couldn't help anyone before but now I can, and I want to.
"Maybe it won't get me anything, maybe it's a lot of trouble, but for me it will be worth it. I have to know what happened to them. I have to know that they're all safe, and if they're not, I have to save them. Someone has to, and if the Justice League would rather sweep us all under the rug, then no one else in the world is going to but me. I have to."
He looked up, still teary-eyed. There was an immense vulnerability in those eyes, something that Jericho surely hadn't shown to anyone in a long time. His true desires were clear, and Slade took a few moments of silence to consider it. Assassin or not, Jericho was still Joseph, on a deeper level. He had some things Slade didn't. Endless compassion and empathy; a drive to protect others even with nothing to gain. A more pure heart than should ever be possible after what he'd gone through.
Slade hadn't expected this. He knew Jericho wanted to rescue the others, but he had imagined that it was for different reasons. He'd thought that maybe Jericho wanted to build a team, after seeing how it worked for the Titans. Or maybe he'd have been twisted enough to imagine selling their rescues to the highest bidder, inflicting the misdeeds against him in the past on new victims. No, it wasn't anywhere near either of those…. Slade was surprised though the more he thought about it, the less he thought he should be. The real Joseph was still in there, the loving child he used to be. He showed signs of it all along the way.
Slade let out a sigh. It seemed like there was a chance this might not all work out like he'd intended it to. Would Jericho follow along with this path for much longer? Slade didn't know, but he wasn't ready to give up. He was never one to quit when it came to achieving his goals. "Jericho…. I understand how much you want this," he started, trying to be gentle. The blonde averted his gaze, wiping away tears. "That said, you're right about one thing. There's no room in our current schedule to fully take this on."
The boy stiffened slightly, but Slade went on before he could answer or protest.
"Even if we had all the information we needed right this moment, we don't have the time to track anyone down and rescue them. They could be worse off than you were, and need a lot more attention and care to get back on their feet. We're leaving for Europe in several weeks, and there's a lot to do before we go. Let alone after we get there."
"I want to do it myself!" Jericho blurted out quickly, looking up sharply. Slade was taken a bit by surprise once more.
"What was that?"
"Since it takes so long anyway," the boy said with a deep breath, trying to regain composure. "I can do all the research parts on my own in my free time and then maybe after that, you can help me do the actual rescuing part?" He was tentative, but desperate.
"If you choose to take this on as a side project, I can share with you all my resources, but-" Slade held up a hand, "You still need to be 100% on our main contract. You keep up with your homework, you keep your head in the game, and you make our paying job top priority. Understood?"
"Yes sir," Jericho said, brightening up, filled with apparent determination again. "I can handle it." He would. He had to.
The research was slow going, to put it lightly. Jericho only had a few hours each day to work on it, and it was at the end of the day when he had free time. By then, he was usually worn out from the day's work, and it was nearly impossible to focus properly. He tried, putting all his effort into it, but more often than not fell asleep at the desk and dreamed away any information he'd learned, having to start over the next day. It was frustrating, and a lot of times he wanted to give up, but he just couldn't. He refused to give up on this project, it wasn't an option. However, slacking off on the work towards their contract wasn't an option either, so he pressed onward, frustration building upon his sleepless nights. It was wearing him down, slowly.
Wintergreen was a comfort in times like this. Jericho didn't see all that much of him; he was usually keeping busy with running the house, in a sense, while Slade and Jericho worked. Jericho didn't know why exactly he did it. He knew the two men were very close friends, having served in the army together before he was born. He knew William was his godfather, and that he was named after Will (middle names counted). He acted the part as well, always there to share a kind word or a little pat on the back. He was there to look out for Jericho in all the ways Slade wasn't.
"Are you sure you're keeping up with everything alright?" Will asked one night, when it was getting late but Jericho hadn't thrown in the towel yet. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, which instantly seemed to relax him. It made William happy to be able to be such a comfort to Jericho. At first he'd been skittish about his personal space, but it was obvious that Jericho was starved for both attention and affection after so long, and even a simple touch on the arm was clearly appreciated.
"This is so hard," Jericho admitted, pausing the audio and taking off his headphones. "I can't go on like this, trying to keep up with both things. I'm not making any progress this way, and I don't know what to do…"
William sighed, feeling sympathetic. He knew how badly Jericho wanted to save the other kids, and he felt that it was a good thing for the boy to do. He could see even now that Jericho was unlikely to follow in Slade's footsteps much longer. Jericho just hadn't figured that out yet, but William believed that he would. It was too early for the blonde to consider any kind of life away from his father. It was good for him here, compared to where he'd been before. It would be hard for him to go anywhere else, but eventually he'd have to choose between following the path in front of him or starting a new one. Will sat down next to Jericho, putting a hand on his back.
"I think you're doing a very good thing," Wintergreen started, "but remember that you can't help anyone else unless you help yourself first."
"But I've already been helped," Jericho said, sounding frustrated. "Slade rescued me, I'm safe now."
"I mean, you aren't making progress because you're taking on too much at once," the man explained. "You're getting to be in poorer and poorer health. You won't be able to accomplish any task at all soon enough."
"I know that," Jericho sighed, putting his head down on the desk. "But what do I do?"
"You already know the answer." Will rubbed his back a bit. "You can't do both things."
It was quiet for a little while, and eventually Jericho lifted his head back up, sniffling. A few droplets were left behind on the surface of the desk. "Wintergreen I can't give up on them, I just can't… And I can't quit being Slade's partner, either. I don't want to stop having this new life. Why can't I have both?"
"Because right now there's no room for both," William said. "But don't think of it as giving up. Think of it as taking a break. You may have more free time in Europe. I know it's a long road and I know it's not fair but… no one can fault you for setting things aside to ensure your own well being."
"I know you're right...it's logical. I just can't stop feeling so bad about it…"
"That's emotion taking over logic," the man said with a small smile. "Something your father struggles with, but thankfully I think you take more after your mother."
"You think so?" Jericho looked at him. "I don't remember her...what was she like?"
"Oh, stubborn, fierce, strong…. Enough like Slade to be 'on his level' but different enough that they got along," William recalled. "Like I said, she was often a more emotional thinker."
Jericho took in the words, trying to remember, or at least imagine such a person. It was a little hard to think of Slade as ever having had a family, even for Jericho himself, but this woman sounded exactly like how Jericho would imagine the man's wife. "What would she say about this, right now?"
"About your situation? Well, she'd tell you to listen carefully to your heart. Even if what it said was a little illogical. And I'd agree with her." Will stood up. "Come along, it's late and you should get to bed."
Jericho sighed and stood up, following Wintergreen towards the bedrooms. Soon enough he was in bed, but not yet asleep. He lay awake, contemplating a lot of things. He decided to stop pushing himself and take a break from his research. He still felt bad, but Will was right about helping himself first. Still, there was one thing he couldn't get past.
Listen to my heart…? It didn't sound like a good idea, not for him. Jericho knew he wasn't a good person, whether it was his fault or not. He might not be a monster, but his views had been warped enough that he didn't think his heart would magically tell him the right thing to do anymore. In a logical sense he knew the difference between right and wrong, but he also knew that what fell into each category could be drastically different for different people.
Society, culture, upbringing, circumstance, even peers… too many variables that could alter anyone's views to really know much of a difference. He knew that killing people was wrong, but he wasn't too broken up about it, remembering that he'd been a child trying to survive. Did that make it right? Well he didn't think he was in the wrong, but then maybe there was something in between for times like that.
He closed his eyes, trying to sleep. Maybe he didn't know the difference well enough to listen to his heart. He did know one thing, though. He wanted to do better, now that he had the choice to. That had to count for something.
When Jericho abandoned his side project, Slade assumed he'd gotten bored and changed his mind. It worked out fine for him, so he didn't think much about it. Jericho had been starting to slack up until he stopped doing extra research, and Slade didn't want to have to tell him he needed to stop. It seemed like Will had had a talk with him, thankfully.
The time they were to leave was fast approaching, and since they were ahead of schedule preparing, Slade started setting up small 'missions' for them to go on to practice working together more. Something they did often was more or less a race, though it didn't start that way. Splitting up and meeting at a specified point in time was something they had to be able to do anywhere.
Soon enough, Jericho had turned it into a game to see who could get there first. Slade never openly admitted to actually trying to race, but he was a competitive type, and showed up first half the time, his eye glinting behind the mask.
One night, Jericho was running over rooftops, fully uniformed, when something caught his eye. It was hard to see against the night sky, but there was smoke rising in the distance. It was out of his way, but even Jericho knew that where there was smoke there was fire, and his curiosity got the best of him.
Soon, he was standing on a neighboring rooftop, witnessing the disaster. It was a two-story apartment building, old and made with a lot of wood. He was surprised to see that no one was there, but as people poured out of the front doors, he realized that the fire may have just started. He could hear the faint alarm going off inside, but it looked like it would probably give out soon as the fire consumed the building. He watched, a weird feeling growing in his chest.
Should he….help them? Well, he shouldn't, not while he was in this uniform. No one was supposed to know he existed. Before he could start to feel conflicted about it, however, a brightly clad figure came sprinting down the street. It was Robin. Jericho crouched down out of sight, getting comfortable so that he could watch what happened.
It was impossible to hear what anyone was saying from here, but he could watch them all well enough. Robin approached the evacuated tenants, presumably asking if everyone was out, and if anyone needed immediate medical attention. It seemed like they were all out, and a few had even grabbed their small pets on the way out.
Everyone was relatively calm, but one man seemed a bit shifty to Jericho. Robin noticed it, too, turning his full attention to the man, seeming to be pressing for answers. Then, a little old lady said something, that made the man grimace and Robin seem to pale. The Boy Wonder rushed into the building, right as it was starting to crumble at the top. Jericho couldn't help but lean forward with anticipation, wishing he had x-ray vision.
Within seconds of Robin entering the building, others arrived on the scene. Fireman, with an ambulance, followed by a cop car, and lastly the rest of the Titans arrived on the scene. Jericho watched attentively as the old lady frantically explained something to everyone as they arrived, with some broad gestures and a lot of pointing at the shifty man. The man accused seemed ready to bolt, but some of the larger firemen stood right behind him. Jericho watched him closely himself, with a frown. He'd done something to cause this, that was obvious, and the blonde had a feeling there was even more to it than that.
The Titans seemed ready to run in after their leader, but he emerged again, holding a bundle wrapped in his cape, a half-mask covering his and the child's mouths. He handed the child to the paramedics, while the police arrested the man. The firemen, of course, had been working on putting out the fire since the moment they arrived, and they were now getting it under control. The building had burned pretty quickly, though, and it might have to be completely rebuilt. The ambulance and one cop car both drove away, and it seemed like the whole event was pretty much over.
Jericho had to hurry back; he knew he would be late and didn't want to get in trouble. He stood up again, looking down at the scene, a little lost in thought. Raven turned, looking up and seeming to see him. Robin followed her gaze and it looked like they both saw him at the same time before he ducked away. He wasn't worried. His uniform was dark, and he was a shadow. They'd likely believe they were only seeing things.
"You're late," Deathstroke said when Jericho finally made it to their meeting point. He actually sounded a bit concerned. "And you smell like smoke."
"There was a fire," Jericho explained. "I kind of just wanted to stick around and watch."
The man looked at him curiously, but didn't say anything as he led the way home.
In the morning, the fire was on the news, and Jericho watched, wanting to know all the details. As it turned out, the man had started the fire, and the (unnamed) child happened to be his. Apparently, he'd just taken a life insurance policy out on them, and wanted to cash it in. Jericho felt a twist in his stomach, remembering a few different masters who would have done the same to him if they could.
"I knew he had something to do with it," Jericho said to himself.
"Is that the fire from last night?" Slade asked, coming into the room.
"Yeah," the blonde answered. "The guy never could have pulled it off, though."
"You're right," Slade said, "but tell me why he couldn't."
Jericho snorted. "How could he? He failed on multiple levels. First off, arson is surprisingly hard to pull off without getting caught. They would have figured out he set the fire. Secondly, it would have been too suspicious that the child died in the fire after the parent got the policy taken out. They would investigate, and all the witnesses who evacuated with him would testify that he wasn't even panicked about the child being left inside.
"He wouldn't have even said anything and the child would have been left inside if that old lady hadn't said something. I guess maybe she knew he had a kid and wondered where the kid was. I mean, best case scenario, none of the witnesses bother to testify in court, but unless he really did pull off the arson without getting caught, he would just end up in jail. The whole set up isn't very well planned; he's an idiot. At least the kid lived."
Jericho had been thinking since he walked away from the fire. Whether the man got away with it or not, it was also likely that the kid would die anyway. It was by chance that Robin had been nearby to notice the fire, and that the old lady had noticed their absence and pointed it out, leading to Robin rushing in to save them. Robin was there to save someone when no one else could, or would. Without a second thought, without any powers, he did it.
Once more, Jericho had been impressed with the instinct the heroes had to help people. This time, though, after the girl in the alley and his revelation about the other Cadmus kids, he understood. If Robin didn't run in when he had, the child would have died. Jericho knew it, and Robin knew it. That was reason enough for Robin to do what he did, and it made some sense to Jericho.
"Correct," Slade nodded. "Then, out of curiosity, if you were the man, what would you do instead to kill someone off to get the insurance payment?"
"I wouldn't," Jericho said without missing a beat. He kind of surprised himself in a pleasant way. Up until recently it wasn't an option to just say 'I won't.' There was no choice before now.
"Humor me. It might not be something you want to do anymore, but it's still a part of your life while you're working with me," Slade reminded him. Jericho shrugged.
"I guess kids would be harder to fake," he said. "You'd have to make it look like an accident, obviously, but also make sure no one could accuse you of negligence. I mean with adults it's easier to write things off as suicide, since adults do that sometimes, but kids don't. There's a lot of different ways that kids die at home by accident, but it's not like it's common enough to get away with doing it on purpose."
"Well thought out," the man complimented him. "I try to avoid any contracts involving children as a rule. Mostly the people who want children dead aren't the kind of people I like to work with."
Jericho nodded, feeling better. Slade wasn't a guy as bad as the guy who set the fire, in his eyes. Maybe he couldn't convince the man to help him with the Cadmus project, but at least he wasn't like everyone else who Jericho had been stuck with before. It made him happy to feel so safe for the first time.
That night, out on another run, Jericho arrived first. He waited on the roof where they were to meet, listening to nighttime sounds. He wondered what different cities in Europe would sound like. He felt hot, so he took his mask off, running fingers through his hair. Slade hated him to take it off outside their hideout, but if he got lectured for it later he'd live.
A figure landed on the roof, but it definitely wasn't Slade. Jericho straightened up, getting tense. He knew who it was and it wasn't someone he necessarily wanted to see. Robin stood at the other side of the roof, and the two quietly stopped and stared, the air tense between them.
Jericho didn't know if he should run. He felt confident that he could hold his own against Robin, probably even beat him, but he didn't know if Slade would rather he stay away. If Robin knew who he was and was here to try and take Jericho down, there might be trouble. Robin was a team player, and if he had his team around as backup, Jericho didn't want to fight all of them at once. His hand twitched, ready to grab a weapon if he had to, or a grappling hook.
Robin started to walk forward, and just as Jericho braced himself to act, a staff hurtled through the air, catching Robin between the shoulder blades. The Titan fell to the ground, gasping, as Slade landed on the roof behind him. He looked so fierce that even Jericho felt intimidated, and he regretted taking his mask off, knowing Slade would be more mad than usual, since Robin had now seen him. The man gave him a look that said 'We'll talk later.' He walked up to Robin, picking the staff up off the ground.
"I don't know what the League said to you, Robin, but he's staying with me."
"Slade…" growled Robin, catching his breath. "What-?"
"Don't bother Robin," Slade said, standing at Jericho's side. "We're leaving your precious city soon enough. I've grown bored here. You and your friends are no longer a challenge."
Robin growled again, clearly taking it personally. The files had been right; Slade's mere presence seemed to push his buttons. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough breath in his lungs to respond.
"Let's go." Slade leapt from the roof, and Jericho followed after.
Did you guys realize that Teen Titans ended just over ten years ago with the release of Trouble in Tokyo? Insane, right? Makes me wonder what the heck I'm doing, writing fanfiction based around a character that was in two episodes of a show that ended a decade ago. Thank you, muse, for motivating me to write only the things that I least need to work on. Still good practice I guess. I don't know when I'll upload the last part, either when I feel like it or maybe like another month from now or whatever. My regular readers know by now what pace to expect. At least it's all written already so I can absolutely promise to upload it at any time rather than just waiting months to get to it... If the demand is great enough I could upload it like next week. Probably not though. Back to the whole fanfiction for a decade old show thing. Anyways, see you guys next time!