Just so we are all clear, these next couple chapters have been hell to write. Emotionally. And I'm dealing with my own… dilemmas…
But I really should have gotten this out sooner.

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INDIAN OCEAN
JULY 3, 2300 BT

"Come on, 'Sid, how long does it take to wash out some dye?" Sam knocks impatiently on the door to Obsidian's washroom.

"Calm the hell down, Scor," Max shoots back as she opens the door, hair still damp.

Sam smiles crookedly at the slight change. As a present to herself for "passing the bar", they joked, Max decided to dye a chunk of her bangs red. It fits her much better than her mop of jet black. And Gacy would definitely love the change.

Max had come out of her shell in the six months they spent together. While Sam knows that totaling Kale's car had been a good start to bring about her mischievous streak he also knows full well that Gacy is the real reason she's become so comfortable. True Max still keeps a lot to herself but she has a steady relationship with her girlfriend, mentor, and peers-sans Kure.

"Well stop staring. How does it look?" Max interrupts Sam's only positive train of thought from the past two days.

"It looks dreadful. You must remove it immediately," Sam teases. He ruffles her hair a bit and strays from his spot to sit on her bed. With his game face now set he begins to concentrate on their objective.

Reach the dock in the Bay of Bengal. From thereanother team will arrive to retrieve the cargo. You have three days.

Upon their ship are nineteen people. There is Max, who is leading the mission as a test, Sam, their "cargo", and sixteen crewmen/soldiers, all who work for Luthor. Between Luthor and Savage, Sam and Kale decided to swap missions in order to refrain from dealing with their handlers.

The ship they're on is small enough to not be too inconspicuous, but large enough to hold the pod down below along with all the equipment for containing a teen hero and keeping him hibernating. Speedy is one level below them in a Cadmus containment pod. Sam had read in the files about the Roy Harper clone now known as Red Arrow. Cloning was one aspect of the Light he always stayed away from. Even Superboy was cloned from Superman. Spliced, really. Unnatural. Nature has a certain order and he wouldn't be the one to disturb that order.

Sam can feel the tapping on his brow and looks up at Max who seems worried. Interrupted once more.

"So I was thinking," moving on apparently, "I'll patrol the deck while you circle the hold. We'll place guards on each level. I know it's highly improbable that anything will happen, but I think we should still be cautious."

"No, I get it. I was thinking the same thing."

Max smirks a bit while towel-drying her hair. Jokes and teasing ensue. They discuss Gacy and Max's feelings; possibly the most she's opened up to him about anything. Sam confides that the past few years have been hell but it's better to feel like shit than nothing at all. Ash and Kure come up. Sam assures Max that they'll be alright and hands her the letter Ash snuck into his room. Relieved, Max checks her watch and concludes they need to get to work.

Like the proper gentleman he is, Sam escorts Max to the deck. Mostly because the ship is unbearably stuffy and he wants to take in a breath of fresh air before retreating into the hold. Both halt as a chill runs down their spines. Something is seriously wrong. It is too quiet. They can sense a thick tension in the air. Now that they're focused they notice a deafening lack of armored footsteps.

It takes a few seconds of swift sign language before they have a set plan. Max will shift into her shade form, monitor the deck, and report back. Their comms. don't work while Max is vaporized so returning is the only way for them to communicate. Something about transforming throws it off and renders anything on her person totally useless.

After she slips through the cracks Sam lingers a few feet from the door, removing a switchblade from his boot and listening intently to the rocking ship. He cracks his neck and gets to his knees in order to watch for shadows passing by the door.

There's shuffling, speaking muffled by the door, and an explosion.

Sam feels a force hit him, pinning him to the ground. His vision begins fading, darkness creeping into his sight. Before he passes out he hears a low, raspy chuckle from a woman and a harsh, high-pitched screaming. It all sounds so familiar and significant. But it's too late and he slips into unconsciousness.

When Sam wakes it is due to his name being called. At first it's a voice he hasn't heard for over a century. Her name escapes him but he remembers a smile as his name is whispered in a comforting tone.

"Samuel… Darling… Samuel… Sam…"

She never called him Sam before.

"Sam… please…"

Slowly Sam wakes, the feeling of urgency gripping his heart. He's supposed to be doing… something. Something important.

"Sam…"

"M-Max…" he manages to moan while rubbing his aching head.

"Help… It hurts…"

Sam throws the door off himself, rolls onto his front and pushes himself off the ground. He can smell oil and smoke. Someone let set off a bomb aboard the vessel. Burned flesh and hair meets his nose as well and he blanches at the awful stench.

"S-sam…" The voice is small now.

Sam looks down the hall, a few feet ahead, and his eyes go wide. Bile threatens to escape him as his brain shuts down and everything inside feels like its melting. Max is lying helpless, her green eyes-eye half-lidded and bloodshot. Most of her body is charred, areas like her right shoulder and hands showing muscle tissue. Most of her black body suit is gone and there isn't even blood, not that there's any puncture wound visible. If she had been injured beforehand it was singed close.

"Max…" Sam manages to whimper. "Who..? What..?"

"Cheshire. She's still here," her voice is weak. "It hurts."

"I-I don't know what to-" Sam shakes his head. He can take the pain away, at least for a little while. First, he flicks a red button on his watch to alert the base, typing in Morse code that shits hit the fan and to get Ash. Then he finds the knife he dropped in the explosion, cuts a long opening down his forearm and holds it over Max's mangled body. "Stay still. I know it's revolting but you need to stay put. Help will be on the way soon."

"Che… shire… Get… her…"

"Anything you want, Obsidian."

Sam refuses to let a single other emotion pass over his face while his wound heals and he drapes his tailed coat over his protégé.

Everything passes by in quick, colorful flashes. There is red everywhere. Blood, so much blood. Green is the color Cheshire dons. Someone else accompanies her dressed in red and black. So much emotion, too much emotion, has festered inside Sam like a pit. It all erupts in that moment. He lets loose a feral cry and allows his body to move of its own accord. It's two against one but his brain is in such a muddled state there is no deterring him.

Sam cowers inside. Death isn't a new occurrence. Death is older than he is, older than Vandal and Ra's. Death is as old as life itself.

Death is old as dirt. Yet it feels so new.

The arrows pierce him, but it feels more akin to silk brushing his skin.

Since when.

Since when had he been able to turn it off?

Its liberating, not being in control. And oh, does Samuel Savage enjoy the thought of not fighting for his life anymore. Not fighting for his father's pride or favor. Not fighting for anyone.

But he is fighting. And for what? To protect the cargo? No. No. No.

There is something much greater than appeasing Luthor running through his mind. It is her. Its Max and her barely healed burns. The scars she'll carry when she recovers. If she recovers. Sam's blood is healing but it hit the air first, less effective, and he hadn't given her much. There'd been no time before she ordered him to go after Cheshire and her partner.

Why is Cheshire even aboard?

Damn it!

Sam's brain snaps back in control and he takes Cheshire's wrists in a painful grip, squeezing until she drops her Sais. He knows she will use her feet and gets her on the ground, straddling her pack and pinning her in place with his knife to her throat.

Red Arrow is at the controls, looking worse for wear, and has stopped looking for commands in order to aim an arrow at Sam's forehead. It is quite a distance between them but Arrow could nick him, if Sam weren't faster than the average human.

"Who are you?" Red Arrow demands.

"Oh, so you two have never met?" Cheshire is positively grinning beneath the mask and they both know it. "Scorcher, meet Red. Red, this is Savage's son."

"Savage?" Red's brows draw into a frustrated line.

Samuel is sick of the pleasantries and makes a shallow cut along Cheshire's neck, slicing the fabric as well. Red Arrow draws his bow string tighter, prepared to fire if his enemy makes any other sudden movement.

"Let her go," the archer demands. As if he had any leverage to bargain with.

"You drew blood first. It is only right that I return the favor, don't you think Jade?" Sam's voice is much calmer than he thought it could be given the circumstance and he slices another wound open and she gasps shallowly at the pain. One knows was already there, a scar he gave her long ago. He knows Cheshire's body very well.

Red looks hesitant and his fingers twitch against his arrow.

"You should have thought about that before cloning me, freak!" He released the arrow.

Sam rolled his eyes and shifted his head to the right, just out of its breadth.

"You're grabbing at straws, mate. I was nowhere near the cloning facility. In fact, I absolutely abhor the lot of you. So why don't you just stand there and shut the hell up while I get to business, yeah buddy?

"Now, tell me, Jade, why Max? You're fantastic with stealth. Could have gotten the drop on her and knocked her out without having even seen you. So why!?" Sam slams Cheshire's face as hard into the floor as he can, fracturing the mask into pieces. A pool, albeit small, of blood is gathering.

"Have you forgotten, Sam? We're villains. Its in our nature and our job description to kill. This is a cruel world and I'm simply living in it. Oh, and I just can't stand how the little twit," Cheshire chuckles.

Before Sam can rip her throat out a hissing catches their attention, followed by a heavy, white fog. The chambers been opened. It isn't quite what everyone's expecting though.

Instead of the thin, undernourished frame and flaming red hair of the original Roy Harper there is a muscular teenager with black hair in a black suite. A bright red "S" is emblazoned on his chest and his mouth is set in an indifferent line. Another Superman clone, much like the one the sidekicks freed.

"What is this?" Clone Roy gaps. He looks at the red "13" labeling the pod and seals it up again. "Damn it!"

"So you burned an innocent girl alive for this? For nothing?" Sam's fingers entangle within Jade's thick mane and mercilessly haul her up from the ground. He holds her close, uses her as a shield with one arm around her neck and the other holding her torso. His knife dangerously glints in the life, shining silver and red. Now within whispering distance he sighs lowly into Cheshire's ear, "I hope you brought your wallet, cause the rent in hell gets paid in advance!"

"Stop!"

Sam's knife stops just short of Cheshire's heart. His yes, red with fury and the need for vengeance, look up at the archer. Everything is blurring but he has to hold on a while longer.

"Your lover makes a passionate plea," Sam hums, taunting. "I doubt there is anything either of you could say to make my resolve crumble."

"Kassidy and Scandal," Cheshire whispers sensually, her hands stroking the arm wrapped around her thin waist. "I know where they are."

"Don't lie to me Jade. Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

"I'm not lying. I know where they've both been hiding. Scandal and I, you see we are very good friends." The claws on Cheshire's gauntlets threaten his skin. "If you release me, perhaps I'll tell you."

"I-"

Sam gasps as his response is cut off. His neck, bare as a newborn baby, has been invaded by a tranq dart.

"C'mon Chesh, we have to get out of here." It's the clone's voice.

"Whatever you say. Just one more thing."

A hard, swift kick greets Sam's face.

Cheshire bends down low and purrs, "better luck next time."

Then everything is fading to white. His nose is already healing, he can feel that. And their footsteps are getting quieter.

But Sam has to stay awake. He has to. Because Max is.

What is she?

Is she dead yet? Will she die before he wakes?

The ocean seems so calm against the ship. He wishes for a while he could lazily just sink into the ocean and never resurface until the drug takes him.

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Yeah uhh, you'll notice my writing style changed. I kind of didn't realize it. Kind of came naturally. If you guys prefer I could switch back without any hassle.

Did not beta because I was rushing to finally get this out to you guys. So sorry for that.
And also I got a twitter account, just for this story because I feel really bad for not being in touch with everyone. I warn you, it's also gonna be full of random crap. And spoilers. Small spoilers.

Hope you enjoyed yourself… Or not cause BoF isn't usually. Well. This.