Keen, honey-gold eyes darted back and forth across several curved-screen TVs arrayed in front of a swivel chair designed more like a throne. The occupant of that chair looked on with steepled fingers, a concentrated frown creasing his lips. The olive skin around his eyes crinkled as they narrowed briefly at the sight of a rooftop confrontation being played back for the sixth time. Two floodlit figures were shown on a grainy feed being overlooked by a jet-black aircraft hovering in place, one standing over the other threateningly. The feed cut back to a newscaster moments later, and his attention was lost as he leaned back in his seat.
Quiet, nearly-imperceptible clicks sounded from behind him, indicating an approaching figure.
A dull thump followed a moment later, and golden-eyes turned his gaze to see a large black duffel bag sitting on a long table on his left. He turned a little further, angling his chair just enough to see the armored figure that had just been on-screen. He glanced at the bag in a silent question.
"Returning the fee," Slade's mask-altered voice grated. "The mission was a failure."
Golden-eyes' lips quirked just barely, but enough to be noticed.
"…you expected this." Slade blinked slowly, eye narrowing. "You expected him."
He faced Deathstroke directly. "Of course. I have no stake in Gotham's petty politics…" his smile showed in full now, "but you can't catch a shark without the right bait."
Slade's arms crossed. "And was that the banquet…or me?"
His only response was a shrug.
Deathstroke was silent for a few moments before he uncrossed his arms. "We're done."
The seated man arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"
A slow nod preceded Slade's near-growling explanation. "It's one thing for my employers not to tell me the whole story; I've come to expect it. Blatantly lying to make me into target practice for the Bat's newest protégé is something else entirely." His left hand reached out to take the duffel. "Find someone else to be your pawn."
"I like to think you were more knight than pawn," said golden-eyes with a smirk. When Slade made no reply or sign of even acknowledging him, his smirk faded. "I'm not someone to be walked away from so blithely," he added softly, but with an underlying danger to his tone as his eyes seemed to flicker for a moment.
Slade stopped mid-step to turn a threatening glare on the seated man. "And I'm not someone who takes kindly to threats."
The two stared at each other for a tense couple of seconds before golden-eyes sighed and waved dismissively, eyes rolling in indifference. "As you will. Take your fee and go. As you said, there will always be others to fill your role."
He turned his chair back toward the TVs and resumed his perusal of Gotham news until a voice from behind caught his attention.
"Small piece of advice," came Slade's voice in a warning tone. "If you intend to cross the Batman, you better have more than money and empty threats as a shield."
A moment or two of silence passed before the quiet clicks of his exit carried across the room.
The man in the chair just smiled.
…
It took Jason a little less than a week to fully recover from his injuries. In that time, he made Dr. Thompkins, and later Dick; half-insane between his bedridden antics and halfhearted attempts at escape. Inaction had never sat well with him, just on a physiological level, so being confined to a single space or position had him stir-crazy inside an hour. And there was only so much homework or reading he could do to stave that off. It was fortunate for his caretakers that he needed so much sleep to recover, or else they'd have had to watch him in one-hour shifts just to keep up. When he was finally discharged, Jason hit his training harder than ever, using every amenity the Batcave had to offer.
By then, Bruce and Diana had returned from Hawaii, the latter of whom had gotten a long, intense look from Jason. In spite of his embarrassment, he knew Damian had been right about one thing. That look hadn't gone unnoticed, though they'd resolutely avoided talking about it. Even if they "knew," discussing it wouldn't help anyone. All they could do now was wait. Bruce and Dick had compared notes on the Gotham Royal bombing as a means of getting him up to speed on the Deathstroke case before Dick returned to Blüdhaven. With his, Damian's, and Jason's reports; a fairly clear picture had begun to form.
However, after attempting to trace the origins of the Decembrists, the shell corporation that paid for the renovations and event, the case had hit a dead end. Without any further data, finding Deathstroke's employer would remain all but impossible. And without knowing the Decembrists' end of things, there was no money trail leading to Slade. For now, they would have to content themselves with the knowledge that his contract had failed with minimal collateral damage. Although the "collateral damage" had been making Alfred very nervous by periodically tossing his souvenir into a thick dartboard in the kitchen that bore several dozen scars already.
Jason remembered three kunai having been thrown his way. He suspected Damian had given him the one that had nicked him in the arm; it was just morbid enough to fit his personality. Plus, it wouldn't do for GCPD to get his blood on record, though there had certainly been enough spilt at the scene. At any rate, Jason's days consisted almost entirely of school and training with Diana as a means of testing his strength and responsiveness. It was after nearly a week of this that an idea occurred to her. A day and one very awkward conversation later, and she came to Jason to pitch this idea.
"Jason," she greeted.
He hummed absently, chewing on half a mango as he thumbed through a textbook midair.
"Do…" Diana hesitated a moment, glancing at a nearby Bruce, who was masking his attention. "Do you remember your grandmother?"
His jaw froze halfway around his next bite and mouth twisted into a small frown as he looked over at her. "I'm guessing we're talking about the one on your side."
She nodded silently.
Jason looked up and away in thought. "Can't say I do."
Diana blinked.
"Did she not come to visit often?" Bruce asked from across the study.
Jason's head shook. "I can't remember her visiting at all."
"And that didn't strike you as odd?" asked his mother.
He sighed and flipped the book closed. "Of course it did. I asked about her plenty, even theorized she was dead like Nan Martha." A frown creased his lips. "But I never got a straight answer for fifteen years." He shrugged. "I figured you two had a falling out—or she disapproved of having a grandson instead of a granddaughter."
Diana frowned and exchanged a long look with Bruce. "If I'm being honest, either one is probably just as likely."
Jason blinked and stared at her intently for a second. "You want to change that."
She bit her lower lip. "I had a talk with my mother yesterday, asked if she'd be willing to host you for a few days."
His eyes widened comically. "You mean—on Themyscira?" He stopped floating and hit the deck feet-first, practically stumbling over himself in excitement. "Like, actually send me to Themyscira? To train with—are you serious?"
Diana smiled at his enthusiasm and caught Bruce's smirk in her peripheral vision. "As a matter of fact, yes. Your fighting style is similar to theirs, as expected, but needs refinement." She frowned a little. "As does your temper."
Jason blinked.
"I saw the recording of your fight with Deathstroke, and the tail end of your battle with Cheetah. Not to mention how you nearly lost it during your confrontations with Iles."
"So?" he asked, crossing his arms defensively.
"So, your rage gave you a boost in strength and speed but cost you significantly in technique and rationality. The moment you lose control of yourself, you lose control of the fight, and Deathstroke took advantage of that with a counterattack that nearly got you killed."
Jason stared at her hard, glancing at Bruce's reinforcing gaze. A hard sigh passed his lips. "Fair enough. And you think training with the Amazons will help?"
She nodded. "If anyone will understand how to help you channel that, it's my sisters."
"And…your mom likes this idea?"
Diana's lips pursed tightly. "She's not opposed to it."
Jason threw her a deadpan look. "That's not the same thing."
She sighed. "I know, but she is family, and you've told me in the past that you intend to fix your future. Perhaps this can be a starting point for that."
He thought about it for a while before smiling a little. "Fair enough."
…
"What have you been learning out there?"
Kara nearly cringed at Philippus' scolding tone. "It's called 'street fighting,' Phil."
The imposing, dark-skinned woman frowned and crossed her arms in disapproval. "It's crap. No wonder you came back." She reached to a nearby weapons rack and tossed Kara a sword while she brandished one of her own. "You need a refresher."
Her body fell into a familiar stance as years-old training kicked in.
"Defend yourself, Kara Zor-El!"
Kara grit her teeth, blocking high, to the side, and twisting away from Philippus' onslaught of blows. The Amazon general practically chased her around the ring, periodically switching her grip from overhand to underhand and back to keep the Kryptonian guessing. Kara's defense was assisted in great part by her enhanced perception and superspeed, which allowed her to match Phil's crisp, practiced motions blow-for-blow. That said, Phil was steadily gaining ground, forcing her to the edge of the ring, so Kara held her ground and waited for her sparring partner to lunge. She always lunged if she felt she had the advantage; that much hadn't changed in Kara's absence.
Her belief was vindicated when Philippus pirouetted and slashed at Kara's hip in a horizontal strike. Kara leapt toward her in a corkscrew stabilized with a pinch of flight, getting on her other side and countering with a swipe at Phil's legs. The general coiled up tightly and rolled sideways, rising into a thrust and overhead swipe. Kara jerked her neck away from the stab and wing-blocked the swipe to meld into a horizontal counter aimed at Phil's lower ribs. The Amazon leaned into the strike, bracing her blade with both hands and spinning to plant an elbow in Kara's temple. Grunting, Kara stumbled back a step and shifted her sword to an underhanded grip, focusing on defensive blade-work while her offhand sent periodic jabs at Philippus' head and torso.
Blocking a high backswing, Kara shin-kicked Philippus in her right thigh, sending it slightly off the ground and throwing her off-balance. Pressing her attack, the Kryptonian lunged at Phil's face with a pommel strike, the blow glancing off the crown of her head when she ducked and threw her kicked leg back in a pistol squat. In her low stance, Phil blocked Kara's overhead and shifted her weight to her other leg while shunting her opponent's sword away. That shunt melded into a low swipe at Kara's ankles, countered by a leap and drop-kick at Phil's sternum. A ragged barrel-roll managed to get her out of danger and back on her feet, standing some eight feet away from Kara. The blonde smirked and dropped her stance, digging the tip of her sword into the sand of the ring and dragging it behind her as she ran toward Philippus.
A flick of her wrist sent a thick cloud of sand into Phil's face, obscuring her vision. Kara, of course, could see through it and lunged directly for the other woman's neck with a slice she pulled at the last second, stopping with the edge of her blade just touching her skin. The cloud of sand cleared out to reveal Kara's smirk to her sparring partner, whose eyebrows were raised in surprise.
"Guess I win," taunted the Kryptonian.
"Impressive," drawled Philippus with a mildly patronizing tone, "but this is really more of a draw."
Kara blinked in confusion.
"After all," Phil added with a smirk of her own, "the femoral artery bleeds just as fast as the carotid."
At that, Kara glanced down to see Phil's sword pressed against an exposed patch of skin on her left leg, right where the aforementioned blood vessel was. Huffing in frustration, Kara lowered her blade and stepped back, as did Phil.
"Don't look so put out," Philippus said, laughter lacing her tone. "It was an excellent bout for being so out of practice."
Kara crossed her arms, sword tucked under one, and pouted a little. "You know, that sword probably wouldn't even penetrate my skin."
"You willing to bet your life on that if the time comes?"
A hard sigh left her throat as she tossed the weapon back to her teacher. "No."
Philippus returned the blades to their rack. "How long are you here?"
Kara shrugged. "Not sure. Couple days, probably."
She arched an eyebrow. "That's all?"
She threw her hands up. "I do have other responsibilities. Working with Kal, in and out of costume, applying for college, friends…I have a life."
"Hm." Phil smiled a little. "Good. A part of me feared you would become a recluse after leaving." She frowned. "Especially given the trauma of how you left."
Kara couldn't suppress a shiver as she hugged herself. "Don't remind me. Please don't remind me."
"Do dreams of it still haunt you?"
She laughed morbidly. "No. I have plenty of other traumatic memories to fill that gap."
Phil looked her over a while with crossed arms. "With luck and the gods' will, Darkseid will never darken your doorstep again."
Kara snorted derisively and crossed her arms. "Pretty sure your 'gods' have very different priorities."
A tense moment passed between them, broken only by the faint whir of a familiar engine in the distance. Kara and Philippus turned toward it, seeing the faint shimmer before it shifted into a large jet slowly lowering itself to park in front of the royal palace.
"Diana's here!" Kara exclaimed excitedly, moving to take off toward the jet.
A faint whack sounded when Phil smacked the blunt end of a spear against Kara's bicep.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked with a malevolent smile. "We've only just begun."
Kara sighed and rolled her eyes, taking the spear as Phil retrieved another for herself. Since having a taste of modern tech, Diana's mother had a direct communication line to her. If Di was there in person, chances were she'd be sticking around for a while. Kara would have plenty of time to catch up with her later. Or so she thought.
…
The vast classical architecture of Themyscira caught Jason off-guard, and the drop of his jaw was enough to make Diana smile. The tension in her body was fairly obvious to him, but he pretended not to notice to give her less to worry about. He sincerely doubted her conversation with Queen Hippolyta had been so simple as to get him an all-access pass to Paradise Island, not after literal millennia of isolation from the male half of the human race. Generally speaking, he'd found Amazonian history fascinating, from what Diana had taught him growing up, but he suspected the history she taught him was significantly different than the history she'd learned as a child.
The Amazons had an understandably skewed perspective of the world, especially given their lack of contact with the outside world and outside media, but without new generations with new curiosity, their paradigm had little chance for change. Unless someone gave them a reason. Two columns of three guards armed to the teeth and arrayed in heavy Amazonian armor flanked the stairs that led to the main gate of the royal palace. They bowed and saluted as Diana strode past in slacks and a loose white blouse, having planned a collaborative meeting with one of Wayne Enterprises' charities later that day.
She smiled and saluted back while Jason tagged along behind her, feeling heat all over that had nothing to do with the tropical sun and everything to do with intent eyes on him from all sides. That heat went nowhere when he stepped through the gateway, actually increasing quite a bit when he caught sight of a half-dozen more royal guards encircling a formidable-looking older woman with golden blonde hair and a small but functional diadem peeking out from her tresses. Her blue eyes, so piercingly similar to Diana's, locked onto Jason within seconds of his entrance. He couldn't suppress the mild unease that gripped him at her appraisal. Her face gave away nothing of her intentions or feelings, at least not until they got closer.
"Mother," Diana said with a warm smile and outstretched arms.
Queen Hippolyta's eyes turned to her daughter's smiling face, an expression she returned along with the embrace—though Jason noted her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Diana. Welcome home."
Diana drew back to arm's length. "How are the sisters?"
"Well enough." Her smile turned to a small frown. "Given their last outing, the period of rest has been well-enjoyed."
Diana's face changed subtly, almost painfully neutral. "Yes, well, I think we all needed a break after that. Pity only some of us could afford to take one."
Jason shifted in place awkwardly as tension settled over the room.
Hippolyta's pursed lips relaxed when she turned her attention to the teen. "This is the boy?"
Diana took another second before looking to Jason and smiling as she held him by the shoulder. "This is my son, Jason."
Jason noted the significance of her emphasis on "son."
Hippolyta arched an appraising eyebrow as she looked him over, reaching out to grip him by the chin. "Lean but sturdy, with sharp eyes and a strong chin." She shrugged and nodded to Diana. "An excellent specimen, daughter, and certainly a first for any Amazon."
Diana's lips pursed and arms crossed. "In a number of ways, I'm sure."
Jason cleared his throat and gently shook his face clear of his grandmother's grip, motioning between the women. "Do you two need a moment alone?"
His mother glanced at him, face sagging a bit and sighing. "No. Mother, Jason has proven himself more than capable, but knows he still has a great deal to learn. I know better than anyone how well the Amazons can prepare him for the field, and was hoping you could help."
Hippolyta hummed softly. "Yes, as discussed, I'll do my best." She looked between them. "But you must understand: our sisters have avoided contact with mankind for millennia, with few recent exceptions, the Olympus War most notable."
"And is that my fault?" Jason asked with a slight edge to his voice.
The queen stared at him with narrowed eyes. "No," she admitted. "But regardless of your intentions or temperament, they will not be as open with you at first. If Diana raised you, however, I have little doubt you'll win them over. It will only take time."
Jason nodded slightly, glancing at the nearby guards, whose expressions were unreadable.
Diana turned to him and held him by the arms. "You'll be okay?"
He blinked and faced her with a small smile. "Yeah. If I can deal with Damian's prickliness, I can take a little heat from the other side of the family."
She chuckled and embraced him tightly. "Then good luck, and keep me posted."
"I will," he replied with a kiss on her cheek. "See you, Mom."
Diana gave her mother a parting hug, a little tension still present between them until the moment she left the room. The subtle hiss of jet engines followed a minute later, and then there was silence. Hippolyta broke it first.
"Jason, I'll be honest with you—"
"Please," he interrupted with a sigh.
Her lips pursed tightly. "This is…extremely irregular and…not a small bit uncomfortable for everyone. The last time a man set foot on Themyscira was during the Olympus War—and that is not a pleasant memory."
Jason's arms crossed defensively. "And whose fault is that?" He shrugged. "Again, not mine. Or any other guy I know." He frowned. "I've read your history, I get it, but thousands of years of isolation isn't going to fix anything." A sigh and wave toward a nearby exit. "So let's get to it. Tour first?"
Hippolyta smiled at his candor and tipped her head in a small nod. "Tour first."
Jason smiled a little and followed on her heels, noting absently the two guards that trailed behind them.
…
"And you call yourself 'Supergirl'?"
"Go to hell, Artemis," Kara griped at her new sparring partner. "You're lucky I pull my punches."
Artemis grinned and flicked her red hair out of her face, tossing her sword into the air and catching it repeatedly. The taunt pulled a deadpan glare from Kara, who had been beaten handily after an ill-advised gamble against her much more aggressive opponent. Seemed those aggressive tendencies were universal among all the relative newcomers from Bana-Mighdall. Hardly surprising, given why the founders of the Amazons' sister sanctuary separated from Themyscira in the first place. However, it was a source of some worry, given that her super-hearing had picked up a male voice coming from the direction of the palace when she decided to eavesdrop a bit (one of a few reasons Artemis had managed to kick her ass).
His voice sounded familiar, and she'd picked up traces of it moving around the island, steadily growing closer to the training fields where she was. Turning her mind from the newcomer, she laid her weapon back on its rack and leaned back until she fell backward into the sand.
Artemis strode over and toed her lower ribs obnoxiously. "Conked out already?"
Kara frowned up at her, squinting. "Just taking a breather." She wrinkled her nose. "And avoiding your gloating."
The redhead's arms crossed. "I do not gloat, Kara, I simply celebrate every victory."
"And feed off conflict, apparently."
Artemis frowned slightly. "You can't improve a muscle unless it is first broken. Repeatedly and severely, if necessary. Conflict breeds strength. Stagnation breeds weakness."
"I prefer the term 'peace.'"
"Don't we all?" she agreed ruefully. "But conflict will always exist in the world, and only by seeking it out can we grow strong enough to survive it."
"I try to be a little more optimistic, Art."
Artemis arched a red eyebrow as she leaned against a nearby tree, her tone sarcastic. "Which I suppose is why you're here, training with us."
Kara stared back at her for a moment before sighing hard. "Touché."
"…something irks you."
She blinked and shrugged. "Something always irks me. Downside of being a teenager."
"Anything you wish to share?"
Kara frowned up at her. "Not really sure you'd understand."
"And why is that?"
The blonde threw her hands back and used them as a pillow. "Because you haven't been around guys for a couple thousand years." She frowned crookedly. "Except to crack their heads."
Artemis blinked and shrugged. "Fair point." She smirked. "Any heads I need to crack?"
Kara sighed. "Wouldn't be able to if there were. He lives a millennium in the future."
Her eyebrows shot upward. "Interesting fellow. I take it he cut you off?"
"He didn't…cut me off, per se…" she glanced at Artemis' stony features and rolled her eyes, "oh boy, forget I said anything."
Artemis threw her hands up. "What?"
Kara smiled and shook her head, clambering upright and dusting herself off. "Another round. No weapons this time."
She snorted and smirked. "I think you're putting yourself at a disadvantage, but if you insist."
Kara grinned and readied herself as they faced off on either side of the ring. A cry of aggressive elation sounded from both ends as they lunged at each other full-speed.
…
"This is the armory, where our greatest, most dangerous relics are kept under lock and key."
Honestly, Jason couldn't care less about what was inside. The outside was what held his attention, and he was vocal about it. "The only ruins of this architecture I've ever seen were…well, ruins. I've never seen Classical structures so well-maintained."
Hippolyta smiled a little. "These days, Themyscira may well be the only place in the world where you can."
Jason nodded slowly. "Makes me wonder how much archeologists and historians could learn from you guys."
"Perhaps," she replied hesitantly.
He fell silent as they strode through the streets of the tiered city crafted into the island's mountainous topography. Jason felt eyes on him from all angles, something he was used to from growing up as a celebrity. These eyes, however, were…suspicious, mistrustful, and it irked him. His mild irritation prompted a question that had been nagging at him since morning.
"What happened between you and Mom?"
Hippolyta blinked and glanced his way. "What makes you ask?"
Jason arched a black eyebrow. "I'm not an idiot, and when she dropped me off, you could cut the tension with a knife."
The ageless woman sighed in a way that showed every century. "Diana…came to me during the Olympus War, asking for my help after she lost her powers."
"You mean after they were stolen."
Her lips pursed tightly. "Yes. I did not yet know the full context of Zeus' actions and assumed he and the others had good reason for their assault on mankind." Her jaw tightened. "So I said no, and begged her to stay here until it was over."
Jason blinked, his expression completely blank. "Because better to damn all of humanity to fire and death than lose your own daughter."
Hippolyta released a self-deprecating laugh. "Selfish, I know."
He nodded slowly. "But understandable."
She threw him a curious look.
Jason frowned a bit. "Did my mother tell you why I'm here? How I'm here?"
Hippolyta nodded. "We spoke of this over teleconference yesterday."
He took a moment to collect his thoughts. "The dangers of time travel are something I've been warned about repeatedly since I made my intentions known, in this time and my own. Yet for all that, I've never once made it a secret that I have no intention of failing my mission…no matter the casualties or cost." He waved at the various Amazons bustling about one task or another. "Family defines us, whether it's family we're born to or family we choose. Without that…" his expression darkened knowingly, "there's no telling what we become."
The queen blinked a few times before nodding slowly as they strode along, her face shifting with a flicker of newfound respect in her eyes. "Shall we take to the training fields?"
He blinked rapidly and looked up at her, a grin splitting his previously morose features. "Thought you'd never ask."
…
The moment she picked up his approaching voice, Kara knew there was going to be trouble. The royal guards escorting Queen Hippolyta were visible first, then the queen herself and the raven-haired guest she was conversing with in animated tones. Kara couldn't help staring as he observed his environment, wide-eyed and brimming with excitement that left him practically vibrating. She vainly restrained a small chuckle, getting Artemis' attention and drawing it to where Kara's eyes lingered.
"You know him?"
Kara turned to the rambunctious redhead. "Yeah, we've met once before, at Diana's wedding." She eyed Jason again. "He looks…different, more relaxed."
"Hm."
Kara threw her a suspicious look. "What's 'hm,' hmm?"
"Just anticipating the incoming storm of skatá."
She frowned. "What do you—"
An animated voice from the newcomers' direction caught Kara's attention, the source all too identifiable and worrisome.
"Who is this and why is he here?"
Jason's jovial mood vanished with Philippus' biting tone.
Hippolyta's lips pursed. "Jason Wayne, son of Diana; he is our guest for the next few days, and will be training among us."
Jason smiled and stuck out his hand to her. "A pleasure; I've heard so much—"
"By what right does he presume to train here?" Philippus crossed her arms, ignoring his hand.
Jason blinked, his face carefully neutral as he lowered his hand. "I thought the Amazons took care of their own."
Philippus' tone thinned. "They do, yet you are not Amazon."
Hippolyta sent her general a warning glare. "He is my grandson, Philippus."
"Blood or no, he was not blessed by the gods. Therefore, he is not Amazon, nor could any male ever be."
Jason smirked. "Technically, I'm only half-Amazon, so your record remains untarnished."
Philippus snarled. "You mock me?"
He blinked. "I was just quoting Star Trek, but—"
"Your arrogance insults the ground upon which you tread."
"Philippus, enough!" Hippolyta bit out.
Jason's temper flared anyway. "I'm sorry, did I spit in your coffee? Or whatever the hell it is you drink here?" He turned to his grandmother. "I came to this island to learn, not be insulted by nature of existing, so if it's better I leave—"
"Nonsense," Hippolyta interrupted sternly with a glance at her general. "You are our guest, and welcome to our hospitality."
"Hospitality, certainly," Philippus cut in. "But our technique of defense is another matter. Only Amazons may learn these arts, and you are not one of us."
Hippolyta had reached her wit's end. "General, as your queen—"
Jason held up a hand to stop her. "Does it scare you that much? Do I?"
Philippus got up in his face. "I fear nothing, much less an upstart, half-breed pup."
The queen's hands clenched into fists. "Hold your to—"
Jason grinned malevolently. "Care to back that up?"
Philippus bared teeth. "Then I challenge you to a blood duel, Jason Wayne."
"No!" Hippolyta roared, splitting the air. "I will not allow this!" She scowled at the darker woman. "You have spoken well out of turn, general, in clear disrespect of your duty and my wishes. We will speak of this later, but for now you are dismissed."
Kara sighed hard, shaking her head as she caught Artemis smirking mid-sharpening of her sword. And then something reached her ears that snapped her attention right back.
"I accept."
Hippolyta and Philippus both whirled toward Jason in shock.
"You…accept?" the latter asked, disoriented.
"Nonsense," Hippolyta tried to interrupt, "that challenge was issued in error."
"Sounded pretty serious to me," Jason replied, staring at his challenger dead-on, "if she would lump me in with traitors."
Philippus blinked and eyed him curiously.
His jaw clenched. "I grew up with your greatest warrior; I'm familiar with Amazon law—including the parameters of a blood duel."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then you know this fight only ends upon yield or death?"
Kara's eyes widened in horror, finally realizing the full extent of Hippolyta's dilemma.
"Naturally," Jason said. "Equipment?"
"Whatever you choose," she replied. "I want your best when I humble you."
Hippolyta attempted once more to intervene. "General—"
"He accepted the challenge," Philippus interrupted with a smirk. Her eyes turned to the queen. "No turning back now…or would you ask us both to forsake our honor?"
Hippolyta glanced between them in alarm, lips pursed tightly. Kara couldn't tell what was happening exactly, but it was clear the queen had been backed into a corner with no good options.
Her jaw clenched at last, and she turned to Philippus. "This will not end well."
"Depends on your point of view," the warrior shot back as she and Jason strode toward a fighting ring, their eyes never leaving each other.
"So, what's the wager?" Jason asked. "I assume you'll want me to leave if I lose."
"To leave the training fields, yes." She glanced at Hippolyta. "I suppose if my queen decides you are worth keeping around, you may remain as a guest in her house, but Themyscira will never be open to you."
"And if I win, there will be no more question of who or what I am. You'll treat me as an equal in person, and a student in status." Jason stuck out his hand again. "Agreed?"
Philippus eyed the appendage for a moment before squeezing it. "Agreed." She nodded at the various racks scattered about. "Choose whatever you need. I'll wait."
Jason strode over to one of them and glided his hands over several swords. He selected one that approximated the dimensions of a spatha, about 40 inches in length, with a blade 32 inches long and a crossguard similar to his own sword. He turned back toward his opponent and stood at the opposite edge of the dueling ring, weapon held loosely in hand.
Philippus eyed him warily. "Where is your armor?"
He shrugged and hefted the sword in a defensive posture. "Don't need it."
She huffed and shook her head slowly, retrieving a spear and shield in addition to the sword at her hip. "Brave but foolish."
They began pacing around each other, their eyes locked as Queen Hippolyta overlooked the match. Neither of them made a move on the other, waiting for something that came moments later with the sovereign's hesitant tone.
"Begin."
…
Philippus' opening barrage of attacks set the tone for the deathmatch. A blood duel on his first day…this didn't bode well for giving the Amazons a new paradigm. Typically reserved for traitorous Amazons, a blood duel was a sacred matter of augury on Themyscira, considered a direct manifestation of the gods' will. The victor was supposedly in the right, or at the very least to be given a second chance. Jason mentally griped that he'd never gotten a first.
His complaints were put on the backburner when that accursed spear came in for its tenth stab. Parrying the bronze head away with as little effort as possible, Jason maintained a relatively safe distance as the general continued to test his defenses. Sensing an opening when she retracted the weapon post-lunge, Jason dashed toward her and drove the pommel of his sword into her shield when she brought it up to protect her face. That blinded her for about a split-second, leaving her exposed to a trip-kick on her left side. She'd anticipated the move, however, because he was staggering back a second later after she bashed the edge of her shield into his incoming shin.
If his bones weren't so hardy, he had no doubt he'd have broken his leg then and there. She immediately pressed the attack with a hard whack to the head with the blunt end, followed quickly by a couched stab to the chest. He pivoted his body just enough for the spear to skate past, though the edge of its head still sliced through the right sleeve of his tee, just avoiding breaking the skin. His left hand snapped up to wrap around the shaft, sending it into a crescent motion that threw her right arm away from her torso and left her open to a counter-stab. Philippus' shield shunted the blade upward, another shield bash hitting him dead center and sending him back a few feet.
Slashing strikes with the spearhead came at him with precision gained from centuries of experience, deflected with his sword with relative ease. He knew she was toying with him. Deflecting a stab following up a slashfest, Jason wing-blocked the attack and spun counterclockwise, planting an elbow in the center of her shield and returning a bit of force in kind. Her boots slid through the sand of the ring as he pushed her back, using his sword as a barrier between him and the spear to set up his follow-up: a backwards drop-kick that slammed her shield and sent her rolling back through the ring.
He shifted his sword to his left hand mid-charge, using it to parry a rising slash from Philippus and set her up for a top-down kick that slammed her helmet hard enough to dent it. He followed his spinning motion with a leaping kick to the shield that laid her out on her back. A chorus of surprised gasps came from the growing audience as he advanced on her prone form. Snarling, Philippus reached into the sand and retrieved her fallen spear, using it as a pole to sweep his legs out. He recovered with a backward roll, giving her time to get upright and charge him right back.
Three incoming strikes were deflected, one a little too far from his center, leaving him open to being disarmed with a shield strike to his wrist. He hissed and withdrew from her vicious follow-up, clutching his injured wrist. He rolled away from a stab, but the move was a feint that set him up for a sweeping slash that left a deep cut across his chest. Philippus withdrew a step, shaking the blood off her spear while pacing around him with a taunting smirk. Jaw clenching, Jason took a deep breath to steady himself and curse the lecture he'd get from Diana when he got home with a couple new scars.
A glint of sunlight in the edge of his vision briefly drew his gaze to the fallen sword in the sand. He lunged for it, handspringing over the preemptive stab that came his way and feeling his fingers wrap around its leather-bound hilt. On the way up, he swung it behind him instinctively, feeling it connect with the incoming spearhead. The brief reprieve left the spear within reach, so he spun toward Philippus, grabbed the shaft with his offhand, and brought his sword down with a cry, shearing it in half—with the metal tip in his grasp. Continuing his spin, he hurled the half-spear at her headfirst, the bronze head burying itself in her shield.
Her sword left its sheath in the time it took for him to close the distance, a cascade of strikes coming from him and finding no purchase except the shield between them. Mid-strike, Philippus sent a low stab under her shield, the tip just nicking his abdomen when he snapped his hips away. She followed up with a shield bash that slammed him right in the face and knocked his brain about, forcing him on the defensive. Her body spun in a whirlwind, using the edge of the shield as a weapon every bit as much as the sword in her other hand. Recognizing the tactic as a means of wearing him down, Jason dashed back and coiled up, waiting for her to close the distance before twist-flipping over her mid-stab and slashing at her back on the way down.
She flipped her shield to cover her back, blocking his strike, and spun with a rising slash aimed at his neck. He bent over backwards, practically folding himself in half as he felt the wind skate off the edge of her blade. A snap-kick to his right instep sent him reeling, and another shield-edge strike to the face split his right eyebrow and sent black spots through his vision. She followed up with a reverse shield bash to the torso, and something in his chest gave out as all breath left his lungs and his feet left the ground. Jason slid through the sand on his back, coughing hard in an attempt to recover.
Philippus didn't let him.
One overhead strike after the next rained down on him, forcing him to keep one arm occupied with defense while his other tried to keep him balanced. He lashed out at her legs with a kick, but found his shin slammed with the edge of her shield once again. Her swordplay was clever, to be sure, but that shield was the real problem. So instead of targeting her physiological weak points, he lashed out directly at her shield. A ground-kick to the shield stopped her advance briefly enough for him to roll back and get his feet under him in a crouch. Jason lunged forward with a growl, his sword swinging at her shield repeatedly with his advance.
She countered with a few quick strikes, but he parried them with little effort and immediately resumed his assault, wearing down her shield arm little by little and carving deep scores into the metal disc's surface. A battle cry shot from his throat as he capped off his barrage with a lunge with his full weight behind it. The moment he heard metal shearing, Jason knew he'd made a mistake. Amidst the battle haze and adrenaline, he'd managed to find the weakest point on the shield and plunged his sword halfway through. By the hiss and growl from the other side, he'd cut Philippus, but when he tried to pull back, the sword didn't come with him.
Eyes widening, Jason snapped his head away from a sword-stroke that would've cleaved his head off, noting that she dropped her shield to the sand in favor of extra speed. Philippus practically chased him across the ring, the boy just barely dodging her strikes until she followed one with a snap-kick to the gut that doubled him over in pain. His attempt to avoid her next stroke failed when a slim cut sprouted along his left leg, then another on his right arm, and another that turned the gash on his chest into a crooked X. A thrust-kick to the chest sent blood spewing from the cuts on his torso and him flying back into the sand.
Gasps of pain and lost breath came from his throat in panicked breaths as he crawled backward toward the edge of the ring. Philippus stalked toward him, her furious countenance just visible in the Y-visor of her helmet, as were the white knuckles around the hilt of her sword. She had just enough time to draw back her blade for a killing stroke before an ear-splitting command stopped her in her tracks.
"Enough!"
Philippus blinked and stared at Jason for a moment before her eyes drifted up to Hippolyta. "The contest must have its end."
The golden-haired woman's eyes narrowed dangerously. "This was a fool's contest to begin with, Philippus, and I as much a fool to let it happen. This is over." She frowned sadly, glancing at Jason. "Withdraw with your victory."
The general huffed and cast Jason's prone form a disdainful glare before turning around and walking off.
"I never yielded."
She stopped at his ragged voice, turning her head to look over her shoulder.
Jason's teeth gritted as he painfully rose to a crouch. "And I'm not dead yet."
Philippus glared at him for another half-second before whirling around, ignoring Hippolyta's furious orders as the queen leapt to her feet. No one would be fast enough to make it, not even the Kryptonian sprinting at them full speed.
The bronze blade fell in a cleaving cut that would shear through his jugular.
Their shocked audience gasped as one.
And Philippus' sword stopped halfway through its arc, drawing blood…but not nearly as much as she'd intended. Specifically, because instead of perforating a major blood vessel, the blade was clutched in Jason's fingers, hovering a foot away from his neck. Philippus' eyes reached their widest a split-second before his fist caved in her helmet, then her lower breastplate, then her helmet again, crumpling the metal like cheap cardboard. A side thrust kick sent her flying to the opposite end of the dueling ring, struggling to get her ruined helmet off. That struggle left Jason more than enough time to reach her fallen shield and pry his sword from it with his foot braced against the shield.
She got it off just in time to see him fly straight for her.
Philippus' preemptive strike went under his body when his flight pattern sent him over her in a graceful arc that mimicked his earlier twist-flip's angle of attack. Her block carved a notch into both their swords, and his midair kick nailed her in the jaw, snapping her head to the side. When his feet touched the ground, their eyes met once more, and for the first time throughout the match, the Amazon general froze. A roar of pure fury split the air as he charged, every strike bearing his full strength and weight, every move designed to inflict maximum damage. She tried to counterattack numerous times, but between her rapidly dwindling stamina and the sheer speed of his strikes, there was no opening to be had.
Jason didn't let up for a second, filling the air with an endless cascade of metallic clangs and the vocalization of his fury. A three-hit combo struck at her shoulders and hip, followed swiftly by a weight-driven overhead. Philippus swung upward to catch his blade, but it caught a notch in the sword as well, the sheer force of the impact shearing the metal in half and leaving Jason with only half a sword. Her brief elation at her luck ended when he dropped the broken blade and caught it underhandedly, immediately stabbing it down into her right thigh.
She screamed as she was driven to one knee, swinging at him wildly and hitting only empty air when he snapped his head away. A final lunge of desperation halted before it could pick up speed, the end of her blade once again caught in the bloody fingers of his left hand. Philippus looked up to meet Jason's blazing blue eyes, feeling her own widen in unbidden, uncharacteristic terror. Terror that was only magnified when he drove his right fist into the shaft of the blade and broke it in half with one blow. His hand was around her throat a moment later as he flew across the ring, dragging her to a stop through the sand. Jason flipped the broken tip of her blade into an underhanded grip, bringing it back for a knife-like shank of her carotid artery.
Several screaming voices assaulted him from all sides as he brought the broken weapon down like a stake.
One reached him.
It wasn't the panicked shrieks of the numerous women who had known and fought beside their general for centuries, nor was it the imperious command of the queen who had failed to protect them both. No, the voice that reached him was a shrill, piercing cry for mercy in an all-too-familiar tone.
It stopped him in his tracks.
Slowly, deliberately, his eyes dragged themselves to his right, tracking through the blurred-together faces of the Amazons crowded around their match, through the black spots and red haze clouding his vision…to the short blonde with messy blonde hair and compassionate blue eyes.
And like that, the fight and rage left him.
Jason blinked once, twice, meeting Kara's eyes one last time before turning back to Philippus' wide-eyed stare. "Yield, general."
Her fear turned to fury as she spat, "No."
He pressed the tip of the broken blade against the skin of her neck just enough for her to feel it. "We both know this is over."
"Not until you finish it," she growled.
Jason's eyes blazed with determined fire, his tone hard as iron. "There's only one person in this time I have any intention of killing…" his eyes softened as he let out a long breath, "and it isn't you." He lifted the blade from her neck and tossed it into the sand.
Philippus' eyes widened, her jaw tight. "You would deprive me of honor?"
He blinked and stared her down. "To save your life? Hell yes. Especially if you're willing to lose it over something as petty as pride."
Their gazes remained locked for a long moment before Philippus looked down in defeat and uttered words she had never spoken to any man. "I…yield."
The shocked silence that had settled over the crowd continued well after Jason gently hoisted Philippus upright and braced her injured side with his body. The queen was the first to break it.
"Sisters, take her to the healing pools." Hippolyta's gaze remained on Jason even after the guards obeyed. "And him as well."
Jason snorted with a hint of a sardonic smile and a dismissive wave. "Don't bother." He turned away and heard her voice at his back.
"Jason—"
"I can always go there later if I need to…" he glared over his shoulder, "right?" That sardonic smirk showed in full. "After all…I won, didn't I?"
Hippolyta met his eyes unwaveringly, lips pursed. "So you did."
"Then I'll see you at dinner," Jason said dismissively, taking a couple of steps past the stunned crowd before launching himself into the air.
…
Nearly every woman on the training fields stood stock-still in the wake of Jason's exit, Kara included.
"I'll admit…"
Kara turned to the speaker, a visibly unnerved Artemis.
"…I didn't anticipate that."
She turned to the faint dust trail left in Jason's wake and glanced back toward the dueling ring, filled with strokes of dried blood and scraps of wood and metal that used to be weapons. Frowning, she stretched her senses while the Amazons began literally picking up the pieces and Hippolyta vanished in the direction of the royal palace. Faint scuffing of foliage against a moving body was heard in the distance, then leather on rock, and finally leather on loam as he stopped moving. Frowning, Kara cast a final glance at her disoriented sparring partner before taking to the skies herself.
When she found him, he was sitting on a rock and staring blankly into the distance, a position that overlooked the coast and gave him a perfect view of Themyscira's west-side vista. On the outside, he seemed the perfect picture of serene calm, despite the numerous scabbing cuts across his body, but she could hear his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. The sweat and pheromones radiating off him, not to mention the creaks of tension in his bones and muscles, practically screamed that he was upset. And if he was really trained by the Batman, he must've been distracted to not have noticed her until she was right on top of him.
Jason blinked rapidly, eyes widening when he caught sight of her floating, frowning form. "Oh," he said simply, blushing.
Kara smiled a little and touched down a small distance off to put him at ease. "Expecting someone else?"
He blinked again and shrugged. "Not really." He turned back to the view in front of him with a thousand-yard stare. Jason took a few breaths before seeming to notice she wasn't moving and clearing his throat. "Would—would you like to sit?" he asked hesitantly, patting the empty space next to him.
Kara smiled and nodded, silently taking the offered seat and joining him in staring out at the empty sea. The sun was just starting to set, leaving a boiling trail of red and orange down to where it began to approach the water on the horizon. The sight and power flowing into her from the fading light kept her attention for a while as they sat there in silence.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly.
Jason didn't look away from the horizon, blinking every so often in the silence that followed her question. "I don't know." He looked down at his hands, fingers absently toying with each other. "I came here to…" a sigh, "I don't know what I was expecting."
Kara arched a sympathetic eyebrow and smiled. "I'm guessing a duel to the death wasn't it."
Jason huffed and managed a tiny, rueful smile. "Not so much, no." He glanced her way, nodding to her. "What'd you come here for?"
She shrugged and sighed. "I trained here when I first came to Earth." A nostalgic smile quirked her lips. "Diana's way of placating both Kal and Batman's…opposing viewpoints on my arrival."
He blinked, staring at her with a blank expression that gave nothing away. "Returned for a little brush-up, then?"
Kara nodded. "Guess I still have a lot to learn if you beat my old instructor," she said with a smirk and nudge of his arm.
His face darkened as he looked back to the horizon.
She sensed she'd touched a nerve. "It wasn't your fault. They backed you into a corner. You did what you had to." Kara frowned. "If they pushed me that way, I would've done the same."
"No you wouldn't." He said it with such certainty, it was almost disdainful.
Her arms crossed. "And how would you know?"
Jason met her eyes with a pair of dark blues that were somehow intense and fragile at the same time. "Because you would never have tried to kill her."
Kara held his gaze for a long moment, feeling a chill creep up her spine at his words and—more importantly—how much she believed him. In contrast to his earlier staring contest with Philippus, he was the first to look away.
When she spoke again, it was with a firm yet gentle voice. "They set the rules, Jason."
"Yet I chose not to ignore them."
"Phil's not dead, is she?"
"…no."
"Then you have nothing to be sorry for."
He looked at the ground, jaw working visibly. "She owes you her life, you know." When she didn't reply, he kept talking. "If it wasn't for you…"
Kara blinked slowly, mind drifting back to the night of the wedding. "We knew each other…in your time."
Jason stiffened for a moment before sighing hard and nodding, still unable to meet her eyes. "I always lo…looked up to you."
She smiled teasingly. "Because of the whole 'Supergirl' thing?"
"No." Finally, he looked her way, offering her another look into his paradoxical eyes. "You're just easy to look up to."
There was something hesitant in his tone, but she knew he wouldn't say anything more on it when he looked away. Probably for the best—future knowledge, and all that.
Kara bit her lower lip. "Then…why did you avoid me like the plague at the wedding?"
Jason sighed hard. "Ugh, okay, admittedly not my finest moment."
She laughed. "No kidding. Did I come on too strong or something?"
"No," he chuckled, "I'm just used to you being…" a shrug, "older. A little less…" he visibly measured a few words in his head, "bubbly."
Kara crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "So in the future, I'm some moody grump?"
Jason released another laugh (which Kara mentally congratulated herself for). "No, no, not at all. Just a little more seasoned and…" his smile thinned just a pinch, "reserved."
"But…we were still friends, right?"
His smile took on a strange quality, like his mind was a million miles—or sixteen years—away. "Yeah."
"Then I don't see any reason for that to change." Kara stuck out her hand and smiled warmly. "Kara Zor-El…or Clara Kent, whatever you prefer."
Jason chuckled and shook her hand with a little more genuine gusto than he'd shown all day. "Jason Wayne, pleasure to meet you."
…
It was with much mental debate and trepidation that Hippolyta entered a special chamber in the royal palace, reserved for the queen and used only at her discretion. Her hands clasped and head bowed in a gesture of supplication as her eyes closed for a moment before feeling a familiar lightness steal over her. When they opened, she was greeted by an equally familiar sight, and numerous titanic figures that loomed over her in thrones of various material and quality. The figure in the very center glared at her with electric blue eyes, hands tightened into fists around the armrests of his throne. It was a good ten seconds before he spoke with a voice like thunder.
"Queen Hippolyta…it has been some time." He puffed out his chest haughtily. "And here I thought you and your Amazons were finished with us."
Swallowing a biting retort (and no small amount of pride), Hippolyta bowed her head even lower, averting her eyes. "Lord Zeus, I come before you not for myself or my sisters…but for guidance in aiding another."
A long silence passed before he replied. "Speak."
Licking her lips, she continued. "Today, I witnessed something troubling in a match against my general. Her opponent, a boy of mere fifteen years, bested her in a brutal manner uncharacteristic of his temperament."
Zeus' disdain and arrogance were made evident by his snort. "An aging wench beaten by a pup, not sure where the surprise is there."
Her jaw clenched with self-restraint. "The what is not so troubling as the how. The rage inside him, the brutality…it was not right, or even human."
"Your point?"
She frowned. "Milord…I fear the god of war may not be as dead as we thought."
A faint murmur was heard from the pantheon arrayed before her.
Zeus leaned forward in his seat, idly scratching his platinum beard. "Who is this boy, that he would so easily defeat one of your best?"
Hippolyta hesitated a moment before answering. "Jason Wayne, son of Diana and Bruce Wayne."
She couldn't have missed the deafening silence that overtook the gods, or the way Zeus' eyes lit up.
Zeus himself slowly leaned back in his seat, his white-clad form exuding an unsettling calm. "Is that so?"
"Yes, milord," she replied hesitantly.
He was silent a while, and briefly exchanged looks with several of the other gods present. Suddenly, his gaze snapped back to the Amazon queen and voice boomed with decisiveness. "Very well. We will look into this matter for you."
Hippolyta bowed once more. "Thank you, milord."
As she straightened and the astral projection faded, she couldn't shake the unease that permeated her very bones.
…
Kara had lost track of how long they'd been talking, only noticing how far the sun had sunk when she laughed and looked out at the horizon. They sat in companionable silence for a minute before she smirked deviously.
"Say," Kara drawled, "how strong are you?"
Jason blinked. "Hm?"
"You busted up Phil's helmet and broke her sword like a twig, and you're only half Amazon."
Jason frowned crookedly in thought. "Well…I'm not really sure. Haven't had much occasion to test it."
Her devious smirk returned in full when she pushed herself off the rock and stood facing him. "Then why don't we find out?"
He arched an eyebrow. "How do you suppose we do that?"
She waved her arms out to the side. "Hit me."
Jason blinked, eyes wide. "What?"
Kara chuckled at the scandalized look on his face. "My hands, I mean, not the face." She grinned toothily. "Gotta have something pretty for the cameras."
He coughed hard and shrugged, still blushing as he pushed himself upright. "If you insist."
Kara kept grinning and held her hands out like a punching mitt. "Show me what you got." She cleared her throat as he squared up. "Fair warning, might not want to go full-force."
He huffed. "Of course. I don't want to hurt your hands either."
She smirked. "Please, I'd be more worried about your fist."
Jason gave her a deadpan look. "So that's how it is?"
Her only response was a teasing smile.
So he answered with a punch…that she barely felt…and he followed by shaking the hand that threw it, face screwed up in pain.
Kara chuckled. "Told you not to go full force."
He threw her a glare. "I didn't. I didn't even go half force." Jason shook his hand off for another second or two before tensing up. "I've never thrown a punch that was painful."
She put her hands on her hips. "Probably never hit a Kryptonian before either."
Jason's tension didn't vanish. "No…that's not it."
He turned toward the rock they'd just been sitting on and placed his foot on it, visibly pushing on it as his face turned red with exertion. Kara watched in a mix of fascination and rising horror as his expression steadily turned from confusion to sheer panic. She was startled when he started to run, then leapt two feet into the air to nearly land face-first in a pile of leaves and twigs. Kara approached him cautiously as he rose to his knees and stared at his hands with wide blue eyes.
"No," she could hear him whisper, "no, she couldn't have been that stupid." Suddenly, he sprung to his feet and faced her. "Kara, I need you to fly me to the royal palace."
She blinked in confusion. "Wha—I don't understa—"
"Now," he ordered, fear and fury equally lacing his tone.
Frowning at his short manner, she grabbed him by the hips and told him to brace himself before taking to the skies and flying toward the gates of the royal palace, on the side where Diana's invisible jet had landed earlier that afternoon. The moment his feet touched the ground, he broke out into a sprint toward the palace and kicked in the door. Kara trailed behind him, confusion slowly giving way to realization as he stormed toward Hippolyta and her guards with his hands fisting at his sides.
"Tell me I'm wrong," he snarled.
Hippolyta turned to him with a frown.
Jason's voice rose in intensity by the word, to an outright scream. "Tell me you weren't that stupid!"
The guards surrounding the queen immediately reached for their weapons at his aggressive tone, but she held them back with a gesture.
"What are you talking about?" she asked softly.
Jason stared at her for a second with wide, wild eyes. "What am I talking about?" He whirled toward a nearby vase and smashed it with his right fist, slowly bringing his hand up to show numerous cuts in his knuckles that had nothing to do with his earlier fight. "This is what I'm talking about." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did you do?"
Hippolyta faced him down, her form tense and heart racing much like Jason's had been when Kara found him in the forest. "Something happened during your duel with Philippus, and I needed a second opinion."
The brimming fury on his face didn't fade a bit. "From whom?"
Her tension increased threefold, lips pursed tightly before she answered. "The highest authority on the matter I wished to verify, the gods themselves."
Kara's jaw dropped in disbelief, subconsciously anticipating the explosion from Jason. She wasn't disappointed.
Jason's voice started out quiet, barely above a whisper. "Are you…absolutely…" his volume hiked up dramatically, almost instantly reaching a furious yell, "out of your mind?! Olympus assaults Earth, nearly takes out the whole population—including your own daughter—and you thought it was a good idea to tell them about me?!" He laughed mirthlessly, slowly shaking his head. "You raised my mother, so I know for a fact that you're not that stupid. What was it you were after? A little payback for Philippus?"
Hippolyta's jaw tightened. "You were out of control during the duel."
Jason huffed and began to pace.
"Your rage was not your own."
He whirled on her, roaring, "How the hell would you know?! And if I was really so out of control, why did I stop?!" His volume didn't dwindle a bit, arms gesticulating wildly. "You sit here in this 'paradise,' locking yourself away from the evils of this world and claim to have a higher, enlightened form of understanding, when the truth is, you don't know shit! You're all so afraid of the past, yet you continue to live in it, wallowing in your own pain and bitterness until it defines everything you do!" His teeth bared. "And how you see everyone but yourselves."
Hippolyta strode toward him with narrowed eyes, voice hard. "If the anger and brutality you showed in the arena were truly of your own making, then perhaps Philippus was right to deny you entry, child. Perhaps you are simply not ready to embrace what we have to teach."
He screamed his reply in her face. "Or maybe this 'child' is just sick and tired of always having to prove himself!" His fury slowly melted into tears as his breathing went from heavy to ragged. "I—I wanted to learn from you," he said shakily, "to get to know you, my family. I'd always wondered why you were never around growing up." His head shook slowly as he backed up a step toward the exit. "Now I know." He wiped the back of his hand over his eyes. "I don't know what I thought I needed from the Amazons…" he met her eyes with his reddened ones, "but I didn't need this." His gaze and tone hardened just a bit. "And I don't need you." He cast a baleful look over everyone in the room except Kara. "Any of you."
Kara distantly heard Hippolyta utter his name softly as he whirled toward the door and strode out unheedingly. She could only throw the queen a long, mistrustful look before following him out. Kara had quite a bit of her own inner turmoil over what had just been revealed: Hippolyta had spilled the beans to Zeus and company about Jason's existence and they, in an attempt to take petty vengeance on Diana for her interference in the Olympus War, had nixed his powers. Supergirl had been there during the war, seen the carnage left in the wake of their attacks, even suffered her share of injuries opposing them. That a woman as wise as Hippolyta had seen fit to trust them with anything after what they pulled…it shook her faith in the Amazons as a whole—and most certainly cut her "refresher" visit short.
So she couldn't even imagine what Jason was feeling.
He was on the phone when she approached, with Diana if he had to guess.
"I'm done here," he said icily. "No, would…Mom, would you please just come pick me up?" He sighed. "Yeah, see you soon."
Kara didn't bother listening to the other end through the earpiece. She could already imagine the confusion and worry in Diana's voice. The negative emotions rolling off Jason as he sat on a low stone wall and slumped over dwarfed anything she'd sensed in the forest. So she did the only thing she could think of.
"Would you like some company while you wait?"
Jason's tear-streaked face turned to her with a surprised look in his eyes. He didn't speak, only pursed his lips and gulped before nodding slightly. Kara didn't talk either, both during the wait itself and when Diana arrived in her jet and looked between them in worry and confusion. They didn't speak when Jason strode up the ramp of the aircraft, or when he glanced back at her. She heard nothing but the rustle of wind and muted sounds of the jet's stealth turbines until a faint whisper reached her impossibly sensitive ears.
"Thank you."
Any inclination she had to smile at his words was immediately quashed by his broken tone. Kara cast a final glance at the palace, catching a glimpse of Hippolyta, slumped over, head in hands, before leaving behind her Amazon garb and taking off in full Kryptonian regalia.
…
When the image on the screen resolved into something recognizable, Hippolyta knew this was going to go wrong fast. The teleconference system Diana had installed in her throne room kept them connected, but it also showed every line and crease of disapproval and anger in her daughter's features.
"Diana—"
She shut her down immediately. "I just finished listening to Jason's account of the day." Her arms crossed defensively. "Couldn't make out everything between the tears and mild hysteria, but I think I understand enough." Diana's deep blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "How dare you?"
Hippolyta set her jaw. "Diana, you need to listen. Something was off with Jason's emotions. I know he believes his anger was natural, but I have seen that fury before. We both have."
Diana nodded slowly. "So you see a cry for help in a blood duel you should never have allowed…and assume outside manipulation?" She smiled sardonically. "I suppose you were spoiled with a daughter who was all too eager to please, free of aggression and emotional baggage…"
"Diana…"
"…but it is clear to me that you know nothing about children! It took my rebellion, my insistence on helping humanity and seeing the worst they had to offer for me to realize just how wrong you were. And even now, a century later, you've still learned nothing."
"On the contrary," Hippolyta argued, "I knew I could be wrong about him. I knew I needed a second pair of eyes—"
"So you went to Zeus?!" she screamed. "The arrogant, genocidal bastard who nearly destroyed my friends, my family, my world?!" Her teeth bared as she pointed an accusing finger at her mother. "In this time or any other, Jason is my son, my responsibility, not theirs!"
Hippolyta's voice rose in frustration. "If I had brought this to you, would you have even listened?"
"Yes!" Diana roared. "Because unlike you, I am not impermeable to reason!"
Silence overtook the line for a good minute as they both tried to calm themselves.
Hippolyta was the first to speak, regret lacing her tone. "Diana…I can contact Olympus, convince them to return what they took."
Her daughter threw her a look that was nothing short of incredulous.
"Please…let me try to make this right."
Diana's upper lip twitched as she glared with fury that could only be mustered by a mother. "I think you've done quite enough," she seethed. "Over the years, I've come to you for help numerous times, but perhaps the fact that it nearly always went sideways was my fault for expecting too much of you."
Hippolyta's eyes widened. "Diana, please."
Diana's biting reply came down like a hammer. "Rest assured, I will not be making that mistake again." Her features shook with conflicting emotions as she palmed a remote. "Goodbye, mother."
The link turned to black an instant later.
…
The atmosphere in the study was as tense as Diana when she strode in to find Alfred wrapping Jason's wounds in antiseptic-soaked gauze and Bruce and Damian sitting around him. Their youngest looked up at her entrance with an unreadable expression, his features painfully neutral. Diana couldn't even muster the words to speak to him, and it must've shown on her face because Jason smiled compassionately.
"Hey, this isn't on you."
By Bruce's glance, she knew he felt the same way.
Diana couldn't agree with them. "I know what she's like. I should've known better."
Jason's head shook slowly. "Both of us wanted this, wanted…trust she wasn't ready to give." He frowned. "Trust they might never be able to give."
"You won their stupid contest and they still turned on you," Damian grouched from the couch, arms crossed as he laid sideways. He snorted. "And the Amazons claim to have honor."
"Contacting Olympus was an idiotic move," Jason admitted, "but she couldn't have known what they'd do."
"It doesn't matter," Bruce said without room for debate. "Specifics or not, she knew nothing good would come of revealing your existence to them. Whether it was deliberate, she gave them exactly the opportunity they needed to get back at us and that's unforgivable."
Jason huffed. "I just hope this doesn't spark Olympus War round two." He barked a humorless laugh. "That would definitely make a backfire of my presence."
Diana's upper lip twitched. "They couldn't if they wanted to. We made damn sure of that." She frowned and gave him an earnest look. "We will get your powers back, Jason. It'll take a little time to get ready, but we will fix this."
To everyone's surprise, Jason smiled warmly as Alfred finished patching him up, rolling his shoulders. "Then there's nothing to worry about, right? Just a speedbump in the grand scheme of things." He chuckled incredulously. "Don't know why I was so upset to begin with."
Diana exchanged a worried look with her husband. "Because it was an inexcusable breach of your trust. No matter what harm can be fixed, you have every right to be angry."
Jason blinked, his face neutral once more. His only reply was a noncommittal hum, at least for the first minute that followed. "Anyway," he said finally, slapping his legs, "I'm gonna head to bed." He smirked and motioned to his bound injuries. "These things won't fix themselves, after all." He was the only one that chuckled at the joke. "G'night!"
Diana rose and embraced him tightly. "Good night, Jason."
When they broke apart, Bruce gave him a brief hug and pat on the back; Damian just exchanged a nod with his brother, and over everything Alfred cast a worried look. It wasn't until Jason vanished to the second floor, out of sight and earshot, that he made those worries known.
"Master Jason is still in shock."
"That'd be my guess," Bruce sighed.
Diana frowned deeper. "Or he's feeling everything and hiding it for our sakes."
No one refuted her.
"He'll be fine."
They all turned to Damian, who was frowning into a book.
"He's tougher than you all seem to think."
"And what makes you say that?" Bruce asked neutrally.
Damian looked up at him quizzically. "Because you two raised him," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
With that, he immediately returned to his book, silencing any further debate with a statement that was simultaneously dismissive and the closest he'd ever come to showing admiration for his younger brother.
Diana and Bruce still frowned. Tough or not, they both knew what it was like to lose an integral piece of themselves in an instant. They made each other a silent promise to keep an eye on him in the days to come—one Alfred had undoubtedly already made to himself.
All the eyes in the world couldn't have anticipated the devastating chain of dominos that Olympus' act of retribution had set in motion.
AN: Definitely the most emotionally negative chapter to date. This was more than a bit difficult to write for a number of reasons, but I hope I got my point across. I may want to rewrite this in the future.
Anyway, this begins a long, important story arc that introduces some important new characters and relationships, and gets into the meat of fulfilling Jason's mission. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to more.
Drake out.
Musical Inspirations:
300 - To Victory: Jason vs Philippus/"Enough!"; Fever Dream: start-1:19—blade catch/Jason's fury/pinned, 1:19-1:45—Jason stops/convincing Phil/"I...yield"
