The Tomorrow Knight: Origins

by CDrake

On the cusp of Bruce and Diana's wedding, a visit from the future throws their plans into chaos. When their legacy reveals he is more than willing to kill to save them, they must work to temper his rage and discover the truth behind his arrival; lest his knowledge of the future lead to catastrophe in the present. But the Knight is young, and stubborn enough for the both of them.

11. Case File 3: Richard Dragon

Trevor Rance, Alec Quinn, Marjorie and Sayd Malik, Hugo Charles, and Nam Duong.

These were the names of Jason and Kara's kidnappers. After Jason had been put to bed, Batman and Wonder Woman paid them a visit in Gotham County Jail. Once again, the Lasso of Truth failed to produce satisfactory answers, mostly because they didn't know, but what they did say was telling—and worrisome. When asked who hired them to kidnap Jason, they pointed out the bartender at Acropolis, who had mysteriously vanished after the fact; no trace whatsoever, and his identity was completely bogus. More worrisome, however, was the name tied to their payment: the Decembrists, the exact same shell corporation that staged the bomb threat at the Gotham Royal.

"There are too many coincidences piling up," Bruce said after the interrogation.

Diana frowned from her seat on the Batcomputer desk while he typed away with a frown. "Are you sure you're not being paranoid, Bruce? I'll admit, I'm wary too, but the nature of the work we do attracts the worst kind of attention." She snorted. "Not to mention the Wayne name."

He frowned at her. "It's too tightly grouped, Diana. In the space of less than six months, he's been shot, stabbed, beaten within an inch of his life, stripped of the powers he's had since birth, and now kidnapped and nearly killed."

Her eyebrows shot skyward and arms crossed. "And what happens to you in the average year?"

Bruce's lips pursed tightly.

Diana smiled ruefully. "I'm not saying it isn't problematic, especially with this new player." She tapped the screen, where the invoice for a transfer from the Decembrists was shown. "But two instances make coincidence, not a conspiracy."

"Except they targeted him specifically. Never mind the fact that this may have resulted from him interfering in the timeline. If this organization discovered his identity…"

Diana nodded slowly, leaning forward. "Okay, let's consider the facts. Deathstroke was hired to bomb the Gotham Royal Hotel, which he failed thanks to Jason." She shrugged. "On the other hand, that hotel was filled with nothing but politicians and Gotham City's one percent—the latter of which Jason falls into. This organization could just be targeting the rich, and hiring someone else to do their dirty work seems to be their MO."

"My gut says it's not that simple," Bruce said, shaking his head.

"Okay, then answer me this: why would someone target Jason specifically? He hasn't been in the news much, as himself or the Knight; the cases he's handled have barely rated an evening bulletin, or at least his roles in them. If someone does have a fixation on him, I can't see why."

Bruce scowled at the monitor and steepled his fingers. "Neither can I, but I can't shake the feeling that we're looking at a slow-motion train wreck."

Diana pushed herself off the desk and embraced him from behind, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Come on; we're not gonna learn anything more tonight. You've done enough for now."

He sighed and ran a hand through his cowl-frizzed hair. "It won't be enough until I'm sure he's safe."

"I know, but you can't protect anyone if you're not rested." She half-dragged him from the seat. "Now come on, you're taking a shower."

"I barely broke a sweat today," he complained.

"And I'm joining you."

"…you make a compelling case."

…

After a steaming shower (in more ways than one), Bruce was about to retire to bed when he got a call on his private cell from a blocked number. He rolled his eyes as he strode over to it in just a towel. There were only three people with the stones to call that phone at this time of night (or early morning—it was almost 5 AM) when they knew he wasn't out on patrol, and only one of them consistently blocked his number. Bruce clicked the control to pick up and put the phone to his ear.

"Need something, Drake?"

"…wow. Not even the pretense of pleasantries?" Caden didn't sound surprised, despite his irritated diction.

"It's been a long night," he sighed.

"Oh I'm aware. Saw it all on the news. Another run-of-the-mill kidnapping, eh? Well, now Jason's really part of the family."

Bruce scowled, his tone mirroring his face. "Maybe not as run-of-the-mill as you think."

"…so…you gonna explain that, or—"

"Look, what do you want?"

Caden sighed. "The kid's been having trouble."

"Says who?"

"Says the fact that he was taken in the first place, especially given who was with him at the time. And let's not even talk about that hole in his gut."

Bruce's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How did you know about that?"

He scoffed. "Bruce, please. Whatever I don't know, I find out; Tim and I have that in common. I also know that he hasn't taken too well to thoughts of going back in the field, and after that fiasco with Richard Dragon, it isn't hard to see why."

"You have an idea." It wasn't a question.

"Send him to Star City. Let him work with me for a bit."

"And what makes you think that he'll respond to you better than his own family?"

"That's the point, Bruce. I think it's because you're family that he's not recovering the way you'd like. I know how hard you push your people, but in recent years, especially since meeting Diana, you've had a much gentler hand—which is a good thing. However, in this case, I'm afraid you and her might be…too gentle."

"And you know this from what, the total of zero minutes you've interacted with him?"

Drake's tone darkened. "I know vengeance, Bruce. We both do. And I think we both know that he came to this time for revenge as much as he did to save you two. Weeks of inaction don't sit well with any Bat I've ever seen, especially given how hell-bent he was on accomplishing his mission to begin with. If he's stayed out of the field for over a month, then he's afraid of something."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious."

"Bruce," he sighed, "we both know how stubborn Waynes can be. If he's set on remaining in his fear—like we both know you used to be—it's going to take an act of God or a really hard knock to get his head back on straight." Bruce could hear the smirk in his voice. "In your case, you got both."

Bruce frowned and rolled his eyes, catching a glimpse of his wife sending him impatient looks while shedding the few layers of clothing she still had on. He turned away sharply to stay focused. "We decided we'd talk about it in the morning; I'll bring it up to him then. If he likes it, then I'll book him the first private flight to Star City."

"Great. Do let me know one way or the other," he added.

Bruce frowned at the strange tone in his voice, like pained hesitation. "There's something else to this, isn't there?"

A sigh. "It wouldn't be me if there wasn't. From what I've heard, he reminds me of Tim when he first became Robin: eager to please and entirely too headstrong. You remember what happened the first time he really, really lost?"

Bruce couldn't keep himself from grimacing. Oh yes, he remembered all right. Jason Todd had come back from the dead to find a new kid in his old spot and been none too happy about it, so he bombed Titans Tower and cornered Tim in a one-on-one fight before beating him so badly he couldn't walk properly for weeks. Couldn't think properly for even longer.

As one of Diana's favorite movie characters would say: "Full physical recovery, six weeks. Full psychological recovery, six months."

And back then, Tim had needed a hand other than Bruce's too, so maybe his older cousin's idea wasn't as harebrained as he'd originally thought. In fact, it was Caden himself who had snapped Tim out of his funk.

With a sigh, Bruce answered, "Yes, I remember. I'll bring it up to him, but I make no promises."

"That's all I ask. Thanks, Bruce. And get some rest; you look tired."

Bruce's eyes widened as his gaze shot to one of the nearby windows, which was in full view of him, but thankfully not his wife—who was completely naked and steadily crawling across the bed toward him despite him being all the way by the door.

He still growled into the phone, "I'd stop peeping before you see something that can't be unseen…and then I'll have to kill you."

There was a hard cough from the other end. "Fair enough."

"Do I even want to know what you're doing in Gotham?"

"Probably not, no," he answered with a nervous chuckle. "Ciao."

And with that, the line clicked off and Bruce tossed the phone in favor of tackling Diana into a row of pillows. She giggled at him until he growled playfully and made sure she changed her tune to something a bit huskier.

…

Come morning—or early afternoon, actually—Jason stepped out of his room bleary-eyed and disheveled. Well, more so than usual. Without his powers regulating the amount of sleep he needed, he was definitely not a morning person. Add to that the fact that he'd texted Lindsey about Kara and the kidnapping (using his cover story of course) for three hours after he got back, and sleep deprived would be putting it mildly. To be fair, a lot of that was trying to put the girl at ease about his condition. Lindsey had been texting him non-stop since the kidnapping hit the news, and when the situation was resolved, that only intensified.

The only reason he hadn't noticed until he was home was the very distracting kiss that he couldn't stop thinking about if he tried. Jason hadn't reached out to Kara just yet, wanting things to settle a bit before touching that particularly embarrassing can of worms. Not that he was embarrassed that she kissed him. Well…maybe a little, given the context and company, but more embarrassing was his reaction. Given how suave and collected he'd tried to project himself back in Metropolis, the whole fish-out-of-water response was a bit…humiliating. But then, he supposed that had been the whole point. And he'd take pleasantly embarrassed over depressed any day.

Which, again, had been the whole point.

Dear God, that girl…

Jason shook his head hard as he put on a robe and padded downstairs to the kitchen, where his parents were speaking in low tones that always meant something gross was afoot. When he caught sight of them, the proximity of their faces was the first thing he noticed. The second was Bruce's hand, conspicuously placed on Diana's belly, where Jason hadn't noticed the small baby bump. To be fair, he hardly saw her in anything remotely form-fitting except her armor, and he'd been out of the field for too long to really catch sight of any differences. He gave her exposed belly a long look before huffing and shaking his head.

"You know," Jason said as he retrieved some OJ from the fridge, "Damian may have been inappropriate about it, but he was right about one thing." He poured himself a glass mid-thought. "It is really weird to think there's a younger version of myself only a few steps away."

Diana smiled at him. "Think of it as a promise of great things to come."

Jason huffed and grinned. "Always finding the silver lining."

Bruce snorted as he pressed a kiss to the bump. "She wouldn't have married me otherwise."

Jason frowned and pouted as he observed them with narrowed eyes. "Strange how I never heard anything about Mom having morning sickness."

Diana shrugged. "To be honest, I barely felt it, and certainly not enough to make a scene." She smiled ruefully. "Benefits of being a demigod, I suppose."

"Huh. I guess that's why I never got carsick as a kid. Now, food poisoning, on the other hand, that was a thing." He scratched his chin in thought. "And I could probably count the number of times I got really sick on one hand. Most of them were when I was…" his eyes darkened, "uh…never mind."

They both frowned at that, exchanging another telepathic look.

Bruce spoke up a second later. "Speaking of your headspace, we said we'd discuss getting you back in the field today."

Jason sighed. "So we did."

"And?" Diana asked. "How do you feel?"

His lips pursed tightly. "Sloppy. Though, I've kinda been sloppy the whole time I was here, from the very first night. It's just that before, I had my powers to pick up the slack, and now that I don't…" he sighed, "it's like swinging on a trapeze without a safety net." He snorted without humor. "And we all know how wrong that can go."

Bruce frowned at the comparison, but apparently found it apt with a nod. "To that end, Di and I have talked it over and decided that maybe this time, you need a…different hand."

Jason blinked. "I don't follow."

"What would you say to training with Green Arrow?"

His eyebrows shot skyward. "Green Arrow? Like, now?" He blinked and looked up in thought. "Wait—it's early December, 2017, so…Ollie's still in jail, which means the current Green Arrow is…" his eyes lit up as they met Bruce's, "ooh—extended family?"

Bruce barely restrained an eye-roll. "I suppose you could say that."

"He called Bruce with the offer last night, completely out of the blue," Diana said.

"Is that…unusual?" Jason asked.

"Not for him. He did the same thing with Tim a few years back." She frowned with a small groan. "And with Damian after Ra's was killed."

Jason arched an eyebrow. "I'm guessing that didn't go over too well."

Bruce's arms crossed. "Considering Caden was the one who stabbed his grandfather and left him for dead in an exploding oil rig, no, not so much."

"But he can't have felt too bad about that. I mean, Talia and Ra's just used him as their pawn."

"Intellectually, he knew that," Diana said, "but emotionally…" a sigh, "let's just say he had some frustration to work out and Caden gave him the opportunity he needed." She smiled warmly. "We're hoping he can do the same for you."

Jason blinked and nodded slowly, thinking it over. He shrugged after less than ten seconds. "When do I leave?"

…

It was well past nightfall when Jason arrived in Star City. The flight over was used for a nap; apparently nine hours wasn't quite enough to recover from the previous night's ordeals. As he approached the address he was given, he realized he'd need every scrap of strength he could get. The place was a large, run-down warehouse that was littered with trash and graffiti. He knew better than to judge it by the outside. Approaching the main door, a rusted-over thing that was barely hanging on its hinges, his eyes darted to the side when he caught a glimpse of a shadow on the roof in his peripheral vision.

Smirking, he pushed through the door and stepped into the musty, run-down space. He took a deep breath before proceeding further inward, looking around the massive, empty space, and hearing a faint puff behind and above him. An even fainter metallic grind filled the air came from the same spot, followed shortly by a gruff, distorted voice.

"Walking into a place uninvited is a great way to get yourself killed if you don't watch your back."

Jason smiled, hands in his pockets as he slowly turned toward the source of the voice. "I saw you climb in through the skylight on my way in." He shrugged. "Figured you'd be in the rafters somewhere." He gave the shadowy figure a nod, the faint streetlight seeping in from the door casting him in a ghostly silhouette. "Green Arrow, I presume?"

The metallic grind returned as he relaxed his bow and returned the arrow to the quiver on his back. He leapt from the rafter a moment later, landing in a crouch and flicking a switch on the side of the bow that sent it collapsing into itself. He clipped it to the back of his belt as he approached Jason, the closer proximity showing more of his suit's detail. The man was clad head to toe in forest green Kevlar, including a long hood that cast his features in deep shadow. His legs were adorned with calf-high combat boots outer-plated with trauma plates arranged around the shins and joints.

His arms were the same way, with slim gauntlets plated around the knuckles and forearms. The vest was composed primarily of Kevlar, with several more interlocking plates laid over his rib cage and internal organs. The supplemental armor was finished off with a codpiece and contoured pauldrons that collectively gave him the look of a medieval archer. Under the hood was a mask over his eyes and the top of his head, barely visible in the shadows, which combined to completely conceal his identity. The faint glint of his eyes was visible in the reflection of the streetlights off the broken glass in the room.

Slowly, as he approached arm's reach of Jason, a faint smile rose to his lips, and he reached up to pull back the hood and mask, revealing a heavily tanned, youthful complexion. His eyes were so dark they were practically black in the darkness of the warehouse, and behind them, Jason could feel the intelligence in his gaze. He stretched out his hand in greeting.

"Caden Christophe Drake." He smiled wider when Jason gripped his hand. "Welcome to Star City."

…

Ten minutes later, Jason felt his jaw drop to the floor and stay there. Immediately after introductions were made, Caden had ushered him onto a bike he'd stashed nearby and driven through a tangled mess of streets, presumably to avoid catching a tail, before coasting into an underground garage. He'd escorted Jason through the nearly pitch-dark structure to an elevator, which moved up, not down, for a short while before the doors slid open to reveal—a lavish penthouse suite with a three-story-high ceiling and a view overlooking the whole of Star City.

"Hooooly crap," Jason exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Way to stay under the radar," he added sarcastically.

Caden chuckled and tossed his jacket onto a hook in a nearby room, disappearing inside and out of sight for a while. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

Jason sighed and shrugged. "Touché."

He reappeared moments later in gray cargo pants and a blue tee, running a hand through his tousled black hair. "How was the trip over?"

"Quiet, boring. I took a nap."

"Good," he answered quickly. "You'll need every scrap of energy you've got."

"I figured as much," Jason said with a frown.

"Did you figure that from my reputation or history?"

Jason's lips pursed. "Bit of both. Date of birth unknown, place of origin unknown, blood type unknown. List of aliases a mile long and a list of accomplishments even longer—including the dismantling of the worldwide terror network known as Keystone—and that's the ones we know about." His blue eyes narrowed. "And then there's the Faceless Protocol…" he motioned to the adjacent room, where Caden had stashed his Arrow gear, "which is currently ongoing."

Caden stared at him for a long ten seconds before grunting. "Well…good on you for doing your research."

"It helps when I have a record of the next sixteen years to draw from."

"True. Though I hope you keep that thing under strict lock and key. Last thing we need is a Back to the Future situation."

Jason blinked and shook his head. "A what?"

Caden stared at him in disbelief. "Dear goodness, what do you watch in the future?" He waved dismissively and made his way toward a door at the edge of the open atrium that served as the entrance. "Anyway, we'd best get straight to work. I know I opened my doors, but I'm a busy man and in need of a partner tonight. Just need to make sure you're up to snuff first."

He trailed behind the older man with a small frown. In 2033, Caden Drake was way off-grid, though they had met several times while Jason was growing up. Truth was, he knew him mainly through the records he'd amassed on the past, and even then only faintly. The man was anal retentive about keeping his affairs secret. One thing of note he had managed to dig up was the aforementioned Faceless Protocol, a term Drake coined immediately following the foundation of the Justice League.

Despite being a critical part of Earth's defense against the alien force that had brought the founders together, Caden rejected their offer of membership when they founded the League, and they all knew why. Caden Drake was a man with his own code and even fewer lines than Batman, and that wasn't what the Justice League needed. On the other hand, he certainly wasn't about to let them come to harm, especially given his longstanding connection to the Arrow and Bat Families. Thus, the Faceless Protocol was born in secret, a plan to use his many talents to mimic the diction, suit, MO, and fighting style of any non-powered hero should their identity ever be at risk of exposure.

There had only been two confirmed uses over the years, first enacted the night of Bruce's proposal to Diana, when Scarecrow had captured Red Robin and forced Batman to reveal his identity on live TV. Caden locked him in one of his own cells and donned a duplicate Batsuit, mimicking his voice and mannerisms and revealing his own face—which was completely meaningless to the public—as the Batman. Other than burning one of his aliases and going off the grid for six months while Oracle wiped all traces of his face from the web, there was no lasting damage to him, and certainly none to Bruce. It had worked beautifully, though Bruce certainly hadn't appreciated getting clocked over the head to keep him from doing something stupid.

The second use in history was where Jason found himself now: Star City, post-FBI occupation following the complete takeover of the city's municipal authorities by Richard Dragon and his syndicate of operatives. Over the course of a year, the Dragon had manipulated, bought, and bullied his way to the top of the food chain, all the while discrediting and vilifying Green Arrow and Oliver Queen to consolidate power. Ultimately, he manipulated Star City's legislature into passing strict anti-vigilante laws that made every masked hero an outlaw, then outed Oliver's secret identity to the world.

Ultimately, that landed Ollie in a supermax prison where he was still rotting, separated from Connor and Dinah, who was forced to stay out of the hero game to avoid the same fate. To be perfectly honest, Connor had needed her to get through being separated from his dad, which was why when Oliver sent an old ally to offer Caden a job as the new Green Arrow, he immediately accepted. Since his debut a month before Bruce and Diana's wedding, Green Arrow had singlehandedly made Richard Dragon's operations in Star City an even worse hell than trying to work around the FBI task force that had been assigned to take him down.

Since the identity of the original Green Arrow was already known, it wasn't quite the original purpose of the Faceless Protocol, but it had also given Caden the opportunity to make the role his own, made obvious by the extensive changes to the suit and his base of operations. His superior strength and brain-body connection lent itself to an up-armored uniform with a bit more weight and significantly more protection. Whereas Ollie had preferred dark, out-of-the-way hideouts, Caden had a bird's-eye view of the city. The one thing he hadn't changed was Oliver's MO. Though he certainly wasn't above killing—his known kill count actually ranked in the hundreds—there hadn't yet been a single fatality since he'd taken over as GA.

Jason supposed he felt some need for fidelity to the original man and the ideology he symbolized. And he had fallen into his new role beautifully. Being genetically engineered to be physically and mentally perfect, knowing every fighting style on the planet, and being well-versed in the use of every weapon known to man probably helped.

Which made Jason extremely nervous as he entered the room Caden had led him into, which was basically one giant sparring ring with three pyramid-arranged levels connected by stairs, cables, and box-like structures that could be climbed on. Weapons were strewn along the walls, from guns to swords to the common switchblade, and all of them looked real. In terms of sheer deadly force, this room almost made the Batcave's armory look like a utility closet. Caden didn't move toward any of the weapons, so neither did Jason as he took off his jacket and tossed it aside.

Drake turned to face him when he was on the opposite side of the room some thirty feet away, fluorescent lights casting shadows over his eyes. His hands were clasped behind his back and his expression hard when he opened his mouth.

"Hit me…if you can."

Jason arched an eyebrow. "Seriously, you're pulling a Matrix on me?"

Caden's face went completely deadpan. "So you've seen The Matrix, but not Back to the Future?"

"Duh," he snorted. "The Matrix is a classic."

The deadpan look turned to a glare. "And Back to the Future isn't?"

Jason's lips quirked with amusement that quickly vanished when he took a deep breath and fell into a deep stance. Caden still hadn't moved from his relaxed posture. Exhaling slowly, Jason clenched his hands into fists, then charged at him head-on, sliding to a halt some six feet off after feinting with a right cross. His stop was quickly followed by a spinning trip-kick that Caden withdrew from with a calm step. He still hadn't moved his arms. Rolling his eyes, Jason came at him with a barrage of jabs, testing his defenses and finding his light blows effortlessly slapped away with one hand.

After a particularly hard punch was palmed by Caden, Jason lunged forward with a knee and found his leg caught in the man's other hand. Those two points of contact were used to take Jason to the ground, and in seconds, he was pinned with his right arm twisted painfully behind his back. He tapped out a moment later. Caden sighed hard and released him, letting him get up and dust himself off.

"I knew you had issues, kid," Drake said, "but this…this is just pathetic."

Jason scowled. "Insulting me isn't going to help."

A sigh. "I apologize. I haven't seen a performance this bad in years."

His eyes rolled. "Let's go again."

"If you insist."

Jason swung before he even finished talking, getting a slap to the face for his troubles and pissed off as a result. The cheeky bastard wasn't even dignifying him with a closed fist. Feeling his blood get up, Jason unleashed a series of rapid kicks aimed at Caden's joints and ribs, too fast for him to grab. Instead, Drake withdrew with each block, waiting for an opening that he got when Jason threw a 360 roundhouse at his head. Caden ducked and lunged for his rear leg, flipping him right over his head and landing him on his back. Unwilling to get pinned again, Jason scrambled to his feet, finding himself laid out again when Caden thrust-kicked him across the floor.

"You're too rigid, too proper."

Jason scowled and shoulder-tackled him, an ineffective move since Caden braced for it with his arms around Jason's midsection.

"This is a fight, man, not a dance!"

Caden kneed him in the chest, a blow he took in order to grab the leg and attempt to throw him to the ground. Caden literally rolled with it and used the momentum to throw him off. Jason quickly rolled to his feet and lunged with a snap-kick to the shoulder. Caden twisted around it and sent an elbow at his face, which he caught and pushed back only to find himself gasping for air when Caden nailed him in the gut with a ground-kick. The wind was completely knocked out of him, and he was sent tumbling across the floor, half-curled into a fetal position. And he could feel that Caden was holding back.

"Get up."

Jason gasped and coughed for air, clawing his way to his knees.

"Get up!" Caden nailed Jason in the lower ribs with a sharp kick that sent him rolling away. "You think you can protect them fighting like this?"

"W-Who?"

Drake sneered. "Who do you think? You came back here for them, didn't you?" He threw a punch that impacted Jason's hastily erected guard. "You could've stayed in the future, moved on, but you didn't. You came all this way, risking unquantifiable damage to the timeline, yet now, when you hit your first real obstacle, you're giving up? Pathetic."

Jason's teeth gritted as he slapped aside another incoming blow and lunged at him with two shots directed at his face followed by a low body shot. Caden deflected all of it with ease and countered with a palm to the chest that sent him back a couple steps.

"I'm not giving up," Jason snarled. "I never will."

"Then stop acting like it."

They shot punches in rapid-fire back and forth, Jason taking a few hits but managing to dampen most of the impact by turning with each shot. Finally, he found an opening when Caden came in for a wide swing and ducked under the hook with an uppercut to the lower ribs. He put everything into his swing, and was rewarded when Drake gasped and flinched in pain, stumbling a step to the side. Jason immediately followed it up with a hook to the jaw and a knife-hand to the neck. The latter was caught by Caden and used to throw him over his shoulder, the arm held and used as leverage when he trapped it between his legs in an attempt to dislocate his shoulder.

Jason quickly grabbed his trapped hand and pulled hard, finding himself at a standstill and unable to slip free. Thinking quickly, he bit Caden's leg hard, almost enough to break the skin through his pants. The slack around his right arm gave him the opportunity to break out, which he took and spun into a crouch opposite Caden, who did the same. Jason pivoted his hips, one hand planted on the ground to keep balance when his rear leg swung for Caden's face in a crouching Capoeira kick. Drake snapped his head back just in time for it to miss, leaning back on his hands and pushing himself back up when the danger was past.

He tackled the kid to the ground, one arm around his neck though Jason managed to backpedal in a crouch, shoving Caden back against one of the boxes. The grip around his neck tightened, blood rushing to his head as he struggled and got a double-handed grip on the arm cutting off his circulation. He was still getting more lightheaded by the second.

"And what about that girlfriend of yours?"

Jason's eyes widened. "H-How—"

"I watch the news, and I'd know that blonde hair anywhere." Caden tightened his grip. "Yet if she was lying in a pool of blood, with a Kryptonite spike in her chest, slowly leaking fluid into her chest, collapsing her lungs—"

Jason's grip on his arm tightened and strained.

"—you wouldn't do a damn thing." Caden grunted, hoisting Jason's feet off the ground just slightly. "Because you'd already given up, with just enough life to watch her die."

Jason's jaw clenched as a growl broke free and he snapped his hips downward just enough to find purchase on the ground. He used that point of contact to move around, turn them to get within reach of another box and run across it to increase his speed of rotation, spinning his body faster than Caden could compensate. His grip around Caden's arm was used not to free himself, but use his spinning momentum to throw Drake across the room. Despite his dizziness, Jason didn't let up for a second, immediately launching forward into a series of snap-kicks that Caden had to guard from a crouch.

Drake withdrew toward the stairs leading up the pyramid, Jason's attacks driving him back step by step. Caden caught a left cross and tried to pull him into a headbutt. Jason palmed his forehead to stop him, then grabbed his hair painfully and scowled as he returned a headbutt to the bridge of Caden's nose. Hook after hook pounded Drake's defenses, followed by a knee, then a kick from the opposite side. Jason's stamina was unyielding, his attacks relentless, and Caden found no gap in his defenses to expose. In this particular case, the best defense for Jason was a good offense.

Caden withdrew across the second floor of the suspended pyramid, pursued with a flying kick that he redirected, forcing Jason to roll onto his feet and whirl toward Drake's lunging counterattack. They grappled for a moment before Caden shifted his leg behind Jason's and hip-threw him to the ground. He didn't anticipate that Jason would snap both legs up and wrap his neck and shoulder in a triangle choke. Drake used his trapped arm to grip the collar of Jason's shirt, same with his left, and flexed his back muscles to lift him up and slam him back-first against one of the boxes.

He refused to let go, tightened his grip in fact. Caden tried to jab Jason in the face and neck, but couldn't reach when Jason extended his legs and back. Drake held him in place, took a shaky breath, and brought his knee up into Jason's hip hard. Jason's jaw clenched, but he released Caden in favor of dropping to the ground and kicking one of his legs out to force him onto one knee. A repeated attempt of his Capoeira kick nailed Caden in the jaw this time, followed quickly by a ground-kick to the chest that sent him sliding across the floor, almost off the edge. Caden scrambled to his feet and tic-tacked off one of the boxes to the topmost floor, climbing up as Jason sprinted up the stairs.

He opened with a flying right cross at Caden's head, slapped aside and countered with a body blow that forced Jason to reorganize his strategy. A quick one-two to the face distracted Caden from a push-kick to the hip that was caught and used to counter with a cross to the head. Jason felt his brain rattle around, and his vision blurred just enough to prevent him from seeing the incoming high kick until it was almost too late. He managed to snap his hand up and catch the sole of Caden's boot at full extension, seeing his dark brown eyes widen a moment before his rear leg was kicked out and the leg in Jason's grip twisted at an odd angle.

Caden managed to twist his body and kick Jason in the side of the head with his other leg, freeing himself, but the kid quickly adapted and knife-handed him in the side of the neck. The blow stunned him just enough to nail him in the face with a right cross and drive a hammer-fist into the side of his right knee, forcing Caden to kneel. A flying back-kick flew into Caden's chest with a cry of fury, laying him out flat and knocking the wind out of him. A second later, Jason had a hand around his throat while a fist hovered at the ready to commence a beatdown.

Caden's grin mid-cough stayed his hand just long enough for him to start laughing. "There it is. Finally."

Jason blinked hard. "There what is?" he asked suspiciously.

"The missing piece," Caden answered with another cough as he slowly hoisted himself upright. He stretched out and rolled his neck around. "That's all I needed to see."

He was still confused. "What? I don't get it? Were you trying to piss me off?"

"Well, yes, but there's a bit more to it than that."

"Meaning what?" Jason asked with a scowl, crossing his arms.

Caden frowned at him, tilting his head a bit. "Hmm…you really don't get it?"

His lips pursed tightly. "I get that I got angry enough to bridge the gap in strength."

Drake's frown deepened. "Whoa, you really don't get it." His head shook slowly. "It wasn't anger that carried you through. Well, not just anger, or even primarily anger."

Jason blinked hard. "What then?"

His lips twitched with an enigmatic smile, the running of his mind clear behind his eyes. "I have a feeling you'll understand by tonight's end."

And with that, Drake made his way down the stairs with a confused Jason in tow.

"Grab your suit," said Caden, "but don't put it on just yet. We have a little recon to do before we get to the main event."

Jason frowned and nodded as he grabbed the duffel he'd brought with him. Caden vanished into the room where he'd ditched his Arrow suit, toting a bag of his own along with a black leather jacket with padded joints that came down to his hip. A telltale bulge under the lower-right flap of the jacket told Jason he was armed.

He nodded to Caden. "Where's my piece?"

Drake's head shook. "You're not getting one."

"Seriously?"

"Your father, mother, and siblings don't need guns—with the exception of the other Jason, who just likes them—and neither do you." Caden frowned as they stepped into the elevator. "Any given tool can become a crutch if you rely on it too much."

Jason waved at the other man's hip. "Pot calling the kettle black much?"

He smirked. "This is just in case we run into trouble before the main event. Once the suit goes on, the gun comes off."

Jason huffed and frowned at the elevator doors, knowing he wasn't going to budge on this one.

"Besides, I think you'll find tonight's activities much more enjoyable if you engage in them up close."

He arched an eyebrow at Caden's smiling face. "You're not entirely sane, are you?"

His smile only widened.

…

[Hey.]

[Hey! How are you feeling?]

[Good. Only a couple bumps and bruises from last night, and most of them are already healing. I guess I'm still a little faster than the average human, even without my powers.]

[*Kara is typing…*]

"You texting your girlfriend?"

Jason frowned and rolled his eyes. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes." He snorted, casting a look at Caden's shadowed profile. "Why? You gonna scold me for being distracted?"

He smiled and raised a small thermal scope to his eyes. "On the contrary, that kind of distraction is exactly what you need before a big job." He lowered the scope to meet Jason's gaze. "Because it's not so much a distraction as something to look forward to when the job's done."

Jason blinked.

Caden's lips pursed. "And that motivation can be just as important in getting you home as gathering adequate intel. More so, even."

He nodded slowly as Caden turned back to the large warehouse complex they were currently overlooking. Jason looked down to check his phone, finding another message from Kara.

[From what I hear, your dad is pretty similar, and Di's, well…Di, so I'm not surprised.]

A smile twitched Jason's lips as he clicked off a quick response. [So…are we gonna talk about what happened *after* that whole fiasco?]

[*Kara is typing…*]

"You sound like you're speaking from experience," Jason said.

Caden glanced his way. "Well…in a manner of speaking, I am." He smirked. "Who do you think set your parents up in the first place?"

Jason's eyes widened dramatically. "T-That was you?"

He shrugged. "Well, not all me, but with the way Bruce was before they finally got together, did you really think that happened on its own?"

"Well, no, but…I always figured Alfred had a pretty big hand in that."

"Oh, he did. But I crashed a party where they met in their civilian guises before she even knew who he was and immediately saw the chemistry. Still, didn't think anything of it until my kid cousin reached out to me out of the blue and practically begged me to help them out."

"Wait, Tim was in on it too?"

Caden chuckled. "Oh yeah. Practically the whole family was in on it, with the exception of Damian, who didn't want anyone meddling thanks to the giant stick up his ass."

Jason snickered but didn't deny it.

"Anyway, a couple months, a half-dozen dates, and a citywide crisis later, and…the rest is history."

"Huh."

He stared at Caden for a second before frowning at the area below. They were perched on a rooftop of a skyscraper at the edge of Star City's old industrial district, where they were observing a warehouse some twenty stories below. The complex was abuzz with activity, with numerous cars and trucks moving in and out despite it being almost midnight. Jason's lips pursed as he tapped the ring around his neck that contained his cowl and deployed it to give him access to the cowl's enhanced vision. Taking a closer look and switching to thermal, he spotted no less than forty warm spots inside, plus a few bigger ones that were likely vehicles.

According to Caden, this specific warehouse was a shipping hub for some of Richard Dragon's more lucrative exports and imports, whether that was drugs, guns, or—as it appeared tonight based on the pattern of bodies and movement—people. Drake had been angling to topple this particular trafficking ring for weeks, but without a partner to back him up, the risks of getting the prisoners hurt or killed increased exponentially.

Jason's phone vibrated with another message.

[Well, I think I made my intentions pretty clear, and since you were the one who asked me out in the first place, I think I know yours. Wait, you did find the note I left, right? Because if you didn't then I totally understand if you're confused about what that kiss meant and I want to make it clear that I really like you and now I'm rambling because hormones and nerves so sorry about that. :S]

He vainly held back a laugh, looking up to see Caden staring through the scope with his lips pursed.

"What are we waiting for?" Jason asked. "The guards to thin out?"

"Not quite. The only time they vacate the premises is when their shipment's gone out for the night, which should be happening pretty soon if they stick to their schedule. The problem is, they send the 'cargo' out along with several dummy trucks, all of which are thermally shielded and soundproofed to prevent external detection." He frowned at Jason, waving the scope at the warehouse. "If we really want to dismantle this operation, we need to trace the real shipment to its destination. If we spring the prisoners from there, then Diaz is gonna realize his outbound port is compromised and have to shut it down." He shrugged. "Now, it isn't gonna stay inoperable forever, but finding a space secluded and secure enough to run contraband with the FBI watching properties around the city like a hawk is gonna force him to take his time—"

"Which'll cut his revenue stream down considerably," Jason posited.

Caden snapped his fingers and pointed at him. "Exactly." He turned back to the warehouse and looked through his scope. "Now, ordinarily all we'd have to do is stakeout the trucks until we see one being loaded, but with it being winter and all, the excess heat in the building plus the bits leaking off the trucks is going to make that difficult."

"So we'll need to take a closer look."

His head shook with a frown. "Security around the building, even roof access, is too tight for us to get in undetected. Trust me, I've tried. We'll need to wait for them to leave."

"But you said—"

"I said the trucks made detection impossible, but the warehouse itself will have traces of heavy movement left behind. All we need to do is mark each truck with a tracker as they're exiting and remember where they were parked, then check the area to see where the most traffic was. Once we know that and match the location to the corresponding truck, we can see where it ends up and swoop in to the rescue." Caden grinned. "Easy."

Jason deadpanned. "Why did you say that?"

"Say what?" he asked innocently.

He groaned. "You know you just jinxed us, right?"

Drake's grin widened. "That's what makes it fun."

Jason's eyes rolled. He was right; this man was insane.

Caden lifted the scope to his eye again, adjusting a dial on its body, then reaching into the duffel at his side to pull out a box with magnetic GPS trackers the size of dimes.

Jason frowned in thought and asked curiously, "So where do you get all your tech? I know Green Arrow uses Helix Dynamics."

Caden's upbeat mood immediately vanished with a scowl. "Correction, Oliver Queen uses Helix Dynamics. Green Arrow, meaning me, does not."

He blinked at the man's harsh tone. "O…kay? Why's that?"

His jaw tightened visibly. "I don't trust their CEO."

"I'm…guessing you two have some history?"

Caden smiled sardonically. "Yeah, you could say that. Although it's more what she did to Ollie than anything that happened between us."

Jason fixed him with an expectant look.

Caden sighed, his face falling and making him look like he'd rather talk about anything else. Still, he spoke. "This was years ago, before Ollie and Dinah got married—hell, before they'd even gotten back together. She and Ollie were an item back then, engaged, as point of fact. Everything was…great, for the most part." His expression changed, his eyes suddenly a thousand miles away. "And then she discovered a secret he'd kept from her, one that wasn't hers to know in the first place."

"What's that?"

Caden took a deep breath, hints of pain crinkling the skin around his eyes. "He had a kid with someone else." He cleared his throat. "This had happened years before they'd gotten together, long before he'd even become Green Arrow. Oliver didn't even know he existed until a couple months before she found out." He sighed. "And when he did, the kid's mom forced him to keep their relation a secret from everyone."

Jason stared at him. "That's…not really surprising, to be honest."

Caden shook his head. "No, no it isn't. Especially given how much of a douche he was before he was shipwrecked." A sigh. "But…he agreed and kept Will's existence from his fiancé—and from the kid too."

"So how did she find out?"

He winced. "Someone bad discovered William's existence and kidnapped him."

"Oh. Far as circumstances go, I'm not sure you can get much worse than that."

"Yeah," he agreed, "and she was pissed about it." His eyes darkened. "But that was just the beginning." He took a long breath. "The kidnapper tried to force Oliver to back out of Star City's mayoral race by using William as leverage, and it would've worked too."

"But?"

Caden smiled with a pained look in his eyes. "But the kid was smart like his dad and entirely too precocious for an eleven-year-old. Somewhere in the months they'd known each other, he figured out Ollie was his dad, and when he found out the people holding him were trying to leverage him into giving up…" He grimaced, shaking his head. "You gotta understand, this was a kid who'd grown up on stories of Superman, the Flash…and Green Arrow. He understood that evil could be given no quarter, no opportunity, or it would grow to unstoppable proportions." He sighed hard. "So…during a video call, when Oliver was being given proof of life, he made a move."

Jason paled as he braced himself.

Caden's head shook slowly. "They didn't even bother restraining him. I mean, the kid was just eleven and surrounded by armed guards, so what was he really gonna do?" His eyes slipped closed briefly as his voice shook. "Well…when they weren't looking, he grabbed one of their guns and made a break for it—" he smiled sadly, "—lots of action movies and they were using Glocks—no safety." His smile vanished as he stared into the night. "The bastard in charge took his head off right there and then."

Jason shut his eyes tightly, chest aching.

"Right…right in front of Oliver." He huffed. "Needless to say, he didn't back down. Six months later, Green Arrow sent the bastard to hell on live television."

"I…" Jason frowned and tightened his jaw, "can imagine what he must've felt."

"Yeah," Caden acknowledged.

"So…how did the fiancé tie into all that?"

Drake smiled nastily. "A week after Will was killed, she left him."

Jason gaped, eyes narrowed furiously. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly. I had about the same reaction as you. Ollie…Ollie was just crushed."

"How does that make any kind of sense?" Jason half-yelled. "I mean—getting pissed at having a huge secret like that kept from you is one thing, but…I get it. Family comes first, and Oliver wanted a part of his son's life."

"Which is exactly what Dinah told him, despite the fact that Will actually came out of him cheating on her."

Jason blinked hard. "That's…awfully gracious of her."

Caden shrugged. "It's like I said, he was a douche back then, and she knew it." His head shook slowly. "She couldn't hold something against him that was done by a completely different person." His sardonic smile returned. "Now, the bitch, on the other hand, showed her true colors as a result. That was the day I cut her off." He took a deep, calming breath, visibly pushing the memories away and smiling fakely. "So, all that to say that no, I don't use Helix's tech. Whatever I can't make myself, I outsource to people I can actually trust, like WayneTech."

Jason sighed and shook his head, looking away as his mind ran. He huffed, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when something occurred to him. "Now I kinda feel like an ass for even suggesting that Babs look into their product line."

Caden looked at him. "You mean for the spinal implants?"

He nodded.

Drake tilted his head thoughtfully. "No, she should definitely do it. They work." He smirked malevolently. "The bitch would know."

Jason frowned. "Why's that?"

His jaw clenched. "Because she used the goddamn prototype to literally walk out of Oliver's life."

Jason looked away and cleared his throat. "Awkward."

"Yeah. Now, her leaving eventually forced Oliver to get over himself and propose to Dinah a few years later, but…no amount of silver lining can ever excuse what she did." Caden sighed. "Ollie apparently made his peace with her, if he's still relying on her company for tech support, but…if she could do something like that to someone she supposedly loved, how could I ever trust her to have my back? Truth is, if we ever worked together again, I'd probably end up killing her out of principle."

Jason's eyes widened. "Why?"

Caden's lips pursed tightly. "In my usual line of work, shaky trust is none at all." He met Jason's eyes. "Better the bullet you see coming than a knife in your back…and I'd rather be the one with the gun." He sighed and looked away. "Needless to say, for as long as I live and have any other options, I have no intention of giving that woman a cent of my hard-earned money…or anything else for that matter."

Jason sighed and shook his head. "Can't say I blame you."

"Hm." Caden's expression shifted, eyebrows knitted. "Hold up." He raised the thermal scope to his eye. "They're on the move. Get ready." He opened the box of trackers at his side and handed Jason a pair. "How's your throwing arm?"

Jason smirked. "Good as any Bat."

Caden reached into the duffel with a smile and pulled out two items, one of which expanded into his bow. The other was an arrow with a large knob near the head, and when he loosed it, it became apparent why. A thin, high-tensile cable shot from the bow, one end manually anchored to their rooftop while the other was stuck to the roof of the warehouse, where the loading bay and external doors were. Drake slung his duffel and hooked his bow around the cable, motioning for Jason to follow him as they both ziplined across.

Moments later, the roar of heavy engines split the night air as the doors opened and the pair touched down on the gravel of the rooftop. Four trackers were thrown with ease as the trucks zoomed out of the building, splitting off in separate directions as soon as they were clear of the complex. Five minutes passed before Jason's cowl sent out a passive sonar pulse, verifying that the Dragon's men had cleared out completely, leaving only dust and flotsam in their wake—and hopefully enough evidence to track down the shipment. With a wave, Caden motioned him over to a nearby skylight, which they used to enter the building and mount the rafters.

After double-checking that they were alone, they dropped down and gave the place a once-over for any obvious signs, finding none. Jason engaged his cowl's lenses and activated their forensic AR HUD, finding numerous signs of movement scattered across the warehouse, no set concentration detectable.

He frowned and shook his head. "It's no good. They're all over the place. I can't make out a pattern."

"Focus on where the trucks' rears would've been, and look for traces that are more recent."

"How?"

"Surprise me."

Jason sent him a sideways look before switching his lenses through several filters. "Caden, how often does Diaz mix up his shipments? The contents, I mean."

"Once a week or so. This should be the first night of human cargo. I already busted up his drug operation at that end port, but I didn't get to the gun-runners until he'd already sent out a hefty load."

He blinked. "To Gotham?"

"That's right."

Jason cast him a suspicious look before returning his attention to the amalgam of evidence in front of him. "I'm trying to filter the footprints by how recently they were made, but the oils and trace elements are all over the place. I can't get an accurate date off."

"Hmm…check for traces of silicone and amorphous carbon and date those."

Jason blinked, the suggestion clicking into place. "Gun oil and soot—why? I thought they just stopped shipping guns out of here."

"They did, but there were bound to be some spills, and the mix of those two is almost impossible to get out of leather soles. A few of the crew handling the guns were bound to be working this shift. Find the most recent traces, and you'll find our truck."

Jason nodded and followed his advice, face lighting up in triumph a minute or two later. "Gotcha! Second from the left from where we were on the roof."

Caden pulled out a PDA with four GPS projections splitting the screen. "Second from left…that's the upper-right spot. Looks like they're headed to an old ironworks a couple miles from here." He put the device away and hoisted his duffel onto a nearby loading platform. "It's right next to the docks; perfect to split up and ship 'em out by water." He unzipped the bag and pulled it open, revealing his folded-up suit inside. Caden glanced at Jason, who did the same with his. "You ready, kid?"

Jason frowned at the helmet in his hands, his left hand drifting down to brush against the scar in his side. He turned to Caden a second later and nodded. "Let's do this."

…

The redundantly-named Irons' Ironworks was a defunct facility part of the Star City expansion of the company of the same name, one of several across the nation owned by John Henry Irons, AKA Justice League's Steel. As Caden recalled, this particular branch had gone under as a result of conflicting zoning agreements perpetuated by Richard Dragon's manipulations. Considering Steel's public identity and Diaz's open hatred of all things superheroes, it stood to reason that he'd gone to extreme lengths to oust any sign of them from what he considered "his" city.

But using it for a hub to traffic in human beings…

Drake's teeth gritted and ground in his steadily growing rage and disgust for that human stain.

His anger was quickly put in check as he pulled down his mask, making sure the Kevlar skullcap protecting his head was firmly in place, as well as his hood. His collapsible bow, a magnificent example of modern technology reinventing an ancient design, was made of interlaced carbon fiber with a variable-weight bowstring of the same material for varying range and armor penetration. The majority of his arrows were carbon impact based, with collapsible shafts that allowed them and their equally collapsible quiver to be concealed as travel gear if he ever needed them on the move.

As a byproduct of their compact design, roughly fifty arrows could fit into his quiver at any given time. Of the thirty-six standard arrows he had at any given time, six were dipped in a paralytic neurotoxin that would take effect within the space of a second, eliminating the opportunity of the target to raise an alarm. The fourteen remaining had various other uses ranging from direct destruction to crowd control and evasion. For this operation, he focused primarily on concealment and traversal.

For heavier-duty targets, especially vehicles and mechanized opponents, he had two nano-thermite arrows fitted with razor-fine tungsten carbide tips to ensure penetration. Two arrows were fitted with heads that dispensed an aerosol mist of conductive material over a limited area after impact, then released a burst of electricity that would chain through the mist to incapacitate anyone caught in the area of impact. Two more were long-range flashbang grenades, another two loaded with compressed tear gas. The final three arrows were fitted with high-tensile cables that could be used for vertical ascent, descent, or, as already seen that night, zip-lines.

On his belt and right hip sat various flechettes, many of which served the same specialized functions of his arrows. A few, however, were different, such as rapid-dispersal smoke and electronic interface for hacking into computer systems. If they were lucky, he wouldn't have to fire a single shot. But then, luck had never been his strong suit.

"Synchronize comms.," Caden said, tapping a few keys on the underside of his gauntlet, which connected to an adjacent flexible LCD interface.

Jason glanced at his gauntlet, matching his earpiece to Caden's frequency.

"What's your callsign?"

The kid glanced at him from behind the helmet, which made his eyes even harder to see than the cowl. "Knight."

Caden stared at him. "Seriously?"

"It's a work in progress," he answered, tone exasperated as if he'd had this conversation numerous times.

Caden smirked under his hood. "You should consider adding a prefix, or another word to it. Preferably before Knight."

Jason's lips pursed. "Any ideas?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. The Knight part certainly addresses your heritage—on both sides, I should think. Make the other word more about you."

"For a man with so many aliases, I'd have thought you'd have a little more imagination."

"Well, it's not my name." Caden frowned and tapped a hidden control on his collar. "Mic check. Check, check."

"Verified," Jason answered. "Ready to roll. What's the play?" His cowl's lenses snapped down. "I see at least three decent entrances that'll let us slip in undetected."

He raised his thermal scope to his eye, finding a large blip fairly quickly. "Found the truck. Based on the tracking data, they were here for about ten minutes before we arrived, so they might well have started moving the prisoners. We'll need to split up and track them down." He pointed at one of the entrances. "You take the skylight. I'll take the rear loading bay. If you find them, extract them to the north end of the complex; there's a lot more machinery there, more cover."

"You got it." Knight smiled and retracted his lenses, offering his fist. "Good hunting, Arrow."

Green Arrow smiled back and bumped his fist. "See you on the other side, kid."

The Knight drew his grapnel and fired it at one of the large smokestacks of the ironworks' main building, leaping from their nearby perch to swing in and land on the roof with a silent roll. Green Arrow drew one of his cable arrows and aimed past another smokestack on the other side of the building, loosing the missile and establishing a zipline between his roof and the factory. He slid in and landed on the far side of the roof with barely a whisper, crouching at the edge and checking for movement. His thermal scope was instrumental in acquiring leads on where they'd taken the prisoners, allowing him to spot something that gave him a hint on where to start.

"Be advised," he said over their radio link, "I see two long-range ships docked nearby."

"So if they split the prisoners, we'll be looking for two stash locations."

"Affirmative."

Green Arrow scanned his scope over the surrounding buildings, focused on those close to the docks, but a cursory scan revealed only token occupation, likely sentries already half-asleep. Checking the main building, on the other hand, revealed a cornucopia of warm bodies on the move, though none clustered tightly together as if being escorted. If they were secreted in another thermal-proofed cell, they could be hiding under his nose and he'd never know. He and Jason would have to go over the entire complex with a fine-toothed comb if they couldn't find another lead.

"Arrow, I've got something."

Saved by the Knight, he thought with a wry smile.

Green Arrow tapped a control on his collar to activate his earpiece. "Talk to me."

"There's a cluster of guards around three parked trucks, and they don't look like they're exchanging cooking tips."

He frowned. "Three trucks?"

"I don't think they're shipping the prisoners out by sea."

Arrow's lips pursed. "Taking them out by land wouldn't make sense. There are FBI roadblocks at every exit of Star City. Unless…" He frowned and pulled out his PDA, checking a record from years back. "Damn."

"What?"

"I just had a ridiculous theory, and if I'm right, I've been overlooking a very big problem."

"How do you mean?"

"Years ago, right after William was murdered, there was a—how to put it—tectonic event that drastically rearranged the topography of Star City's southern region."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning an existing network of tunnels big enough to haul cargo was presumed collapsed for years, but with enough time and manpower—which Diaz had plenty of when he ran Star City—they'd be free and clear for covert transport in and out of the city."

"If they ship out to those tunnels—"

"Yeah, that'd be bad; they'll vanish for good." Green Arrow stood and turned toward where he'd seen the Knight touch down. "I'm heading your way. We need to put together a plan to extract them and fast. See if you can get eyes on the prisoners to confirm."

"Roger."

A few moments of quiet running later, and Knight's voice returned.

"I tossed a micro-cam into a far corner of the room. Sending the feed to your gauntlet."

Green Arrow's eyes drifted down to his arm mid-step, his keen eyes making out the faint movement from inside the darkened containers. "Confirmed. What's the headcount on the enemy force?"

"I mark at least a dozen inside the building, plus eight sentries around the perimeter. Extracting them to the north end isn't going to be easy without guns or powers."

"Stop griping; your dad could pull this off in his sleep."

"I'm just saying."

Caden's eyes rolled. "Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious. Change of plan: extract via the main road."

A moment of silence passed. "If we want to pull that off, we need to wear down the numbers inside. Draw them off somehow."

"Agreed. A distraction by the docks, perhaps? I can send an explosive arrow toward one of the ships, then move to back you up inside. This'll only work if we can get the prisoners out in one fell swoop. Move 'em all to one truck, then roll out when they're not looking or too far to stop you while I keep any stragglers busy."

"You're volunteering me to drive?"

Arrow smirked. "Guessing you don't have a CDL?"

"That's not the problem. If it has four wheels and an engine, I can drive it. My problem is if they call for vehicle backup and chase down the truck. I don't exactly have the means to fight back."

"That's why I'll be putting a call into the FBI once we get underway to meet the truck at a nearby intersection."

"Thought Green Arrow was the FBI's persona non grata, not to mention all vigilantes—myself included."

"Which is why you'll be bailing as soon as you reach the intersection ahead of time."

"And if the Dragon's men are hot on our heels?"

Caden finally reached Jason's perch as he gave his reply. "Then you hold them off until the FBI get there and escape in the chaos."

The Knight looked back at him and frowned before shrugging. "Fair enough. Not like I haven't practiced that maneuver ad nauseum."

Caden drew an explosive arrow from his quiver and switched his bow to a higher draw weight to compensate for the distance. He drew it back slowly, exhaling a breath to steady his aim as he estimated the wind's direction and speed.

"Sure you can make the shot?"

He cast the Knight's smirking face a profoundly offended look. "Kid, they don't call me Green Arrow for nothing."

Without even looking, he loosed the arrow.

Three seconds later, a massive explosion blossomed on the bow of the left-most cargo ship, carving a gaping hole in its hull. Several panicked shouts came immediately, both from the loading bay below them and the surrounding buildings. Immediately, armed figures in winter coats scrambled to investigate, believing they were under attack. They weren't technically wrong. Knight's cowl deployed clear lenses over his eyes that quickly turned white as he frowned. A second later, Arrow found out why.

"Sonar's picking up only five guards left inside," the Knight said. "Should be a cakewalk for the two of us."

"Just make sure you don't get spotted," Arrow replied, underhandedly pulling a cable arrow from his quiver.

He leapt off the side of the building and stabbed the head into the wall, deploying a cable that allowed him to rappel two floors down, just low enough to hang upside-down and peek through the cargo doors. The five remaining gunmen were preoccupied on their walkies, trying to communicate and monitor the situation at the docks. None of them were watching the loading bay, a sloppy move uncharacteristic of Diaz's crew. Still, he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Green Arrow released the line and dropped to the ground in a deep crouch that gave him a smaller profile and more stability. He nocked three of his neurotoxin arrows and nailed corresponding targets on the main loading platform with barely the whisper of a twang, courtesy of the bow's naturally sound-dampening carbon construction. The bodies thumping against the ground were a different story. The other two whirled around fast, but didn't raise their weapons for another half-second.

One grunted when the Knight plugged him in the gun arm with his grapnel and yanked hard, sprinting toward him. The other screamed when a carbon impact arrow nailed the shoulder of his supporting arm, though not loudly enough to draw the attention of the ones who'd run off. They knocked out their corresponding baddies with a flying kick and knee, respectively. Knight's lenses snapped back down to give him one last look at their surroundings, vanishing a moment later as he turned to Green Arrow.

"All clear," he said with a nod.

Green Arrow nodded back. "Then you know your job. Pick a truck and scan it for trackers. I'll get the civilians moving."

"Roger."

Caden strode over to the first of the three trucks, finding it locked. He took a flechette from his belt and plunged its tungsten carbide head into the lock on the loading door. The flared head of the flechette erupted into heat and light as its thermite payload melted through the lock, a pronounced pop following a moment later. The sound of startled shock from the truck's occupants preceded the retraction of the collapsing door and the attention of a half-dozen pairs of frightened eyes. The whispers that followed were becoming an all-too-familiar refrain among the civilians he'd rescued.

"It's him…"

"He looks so much different than—"

"Who do you think is—"

The resounding impact of Caden's palm against the wall of the truck stopped the chatter as he used his perfected vocal cords to modulate his voice, deepening it significantly. "You're getting out of here. Stay quiet and keep close." He glanced around, looking for Jason. "Knight, you made up your mind yet?"

His voice came back similarly modulated, but with a distinctly electronic edge. "Far right. I'll get my passengers up to speed."

Green Arrow turned back to the civilians in front of him. "You heard him. Pile into the far right truck once it's open. In about five minutes, give or take, you'll be in FBI custody."

They exchanged a few looks, but didn't go.

He slammed the wall and shouted at them, "Move!" He waved toward the docks with his empty hand. "They won't stay gone forever!"

That got them running.

One of the gunmen they'd knocked out began groaning only to find himself sporting another arrow in the hand he tried to use to draw his sidearm, nailing it to the concrete. A passing bow strike to the head finished him off as Green Arrow made for the final truck. He blasted the lock off the same way and repeated his warning to the last group. Within thirty seconds, about twenty civilians were piled in the back of Knight's designated truck and ready to go. It was just a matter of cracking the door and starting the engine, which would be loud enough to get some attention.

Knowing that, the Knight exchanged a look with Green Arrow. Caden turned aside and raised his gauntlet to select a phone number he'd listed under "Agent Self-Righteous."

A few rings later, a stern female voice answered. "What do you want?"

"How would you like to take credit for dismantling a human trafficking ring and kicking Richard Dragon in the balls?"

An irritated silence answered him before she replied, "What are you proposing?"

"Axe Drive and 45th Street." He nodded to Knight, who gave him a thumbs-up in acknowledgment. "Be there in five; there'll be a truck filled with scared civilians waiting for you."

"…and you?"

Green Arrow snorted. "Not a chance."

"You can't keep this up forever. I got Oliver Queen; it's just a matter of time for you too."

He scowled. "You got Queen because you exploited the people in his life. I think you'll find I have no such vulnerabilities, Agent Watson."

"Everyone is attached to something, Arrow."

"Yeah: my ass. Now, if you're done casting empty threats, you should probably call your people together—and SWAT. Might be a hot extraction."

Watson sighed. "Roger that. We'll be there waiting."

"Green Arrow out."

Caden ended the call and went for the control to open the doors, hand poised over the button until Knight gave him a nod. He hit it, then drew two impact arrows and nocked one while the other was tucked under his pinky. Knight's truck started up and rolled out full throttle, letting a deafening roar rip out of the repurposed factory. Panicked shouts began streaming from the docks as numerous footsteps rumbled in the distance. Green Arrow peeked out of the side door nearest the docks, using various crates and piles of rusted I-beams as cover.

The first gunman to come into sight took an arrow to the knee.

His second arrow met the bowstring and was drawn back within a split-second. It left the bow a moment later, sending another thug tumbling to the ground and the one behind him tripping over his screaming body. Gunfire broke out five seconds later, from three separate sources as black-clad bodies poured out into the open. Green Arrow ducked behind cover, waiting for a brief lull in the din before diving out into the open, a flashbang arrow ready and released mid-fall. It impacted as he landed behind his new cover, answering screams of panic and disorientation giving him a second to breathe before he popped back out to fire another pair of arrows into two newcomers.

The rest of the deafened and blinded group quickly found itself on the wrong end of his fist. The upper arm of his bow slammed into the jaw of the closest gunman, followed quickly by the one at his back, who was laid out with a trip-kick, followed quickly by a blow to the throat that left him choking. A woman in the group recovered quicker than the rest, shaking off the disorientation to bring a knife to bear. He used the lower arm of his bow to deflect her incoming strike, using his empty hand to grab her neck and choke-slam her back-first into another who tried to raise his gun.

A 360 roundhouse kick separated him from the rifle, and he shot an arrow through their shoulders, effectively nailing them together. A rifle-butt was swung at his head from behind, only the faintest hint of whooshing air alerting him in time to duck and underhandedly stab a flechette into his attacker's hip. A back-kick sent his reeling form tumbling to the pavement, quickly followed by an arrow to the leg for the one behind him. Caden twirled an arrow from his quiver, stopping the spin to hold it tip-up as three thugs came at him in a pincer movement.

One charged in with a police baton—by his build and haircut, Caden guessed he was former SCPD himself—and found his barrage of blows deflected by the bow. He screamed when Green Arrow stabbed the arrowhead through his upper thigh, twirling in the opposite direction to yank it out and wheel-kick through his head, laying him out flat. Knife-strikes and another baton came at him from the other two when he heard the telltale roar of SUV engines starting him and dove backward. He drew and fired his bloodied arrow into the knife-arm of one attacker, then twirled his body around mid-roll and pointed an explosive arrow in the opposite direction.

Two black Chevy Suburbans screeched out of the complex's motor pool, heading for the gate that Knight's truck had disappeared through a minute earlier. The arrow's strategically-placed nano-thermite payload sent both flaming vehicles careening roof-first into opposite ends of the gateway. He spun around just in time to grab an incoming baton and smack its user in the throat with his bow's arm. The weapon was wrenched from her suddenly limp grip and slammed hilt-first into her nose before he put his leg behind hers and hip-threw her skull-first into the pavement.

The crack of a gun preceded a hard impact on his high center mass, a grunt pulled from his throat as he rolled back with the force. An arrow answered that shot, the gunman ducking away just in time to reduce his attack to a graze. Caden cursed under his breath and dropped behind a stack of I-beams to check his stock of arrows. He pulled up the feed from the micro-cam in the warehouse, smiling when he saw that the wide angle of the camera included the half-dozen thugs taking cover behind a cluster of crates and large spools on the opposite end of the yard. His dark brown eyes drifted to the side as his mind raced with a quick calculation of mass, density, and impact force. The end result made him shrug.

Close enough, he decided.

Before he drew back his other nano-thermite arrow and sent it into the ground on the opposite side of their cover.

The fireball and concussive force resulting from the explosion sent wood, metal shards, and bodies flying across the factory yard in various states of damage. A chorus of groans and screams carried across the cold night air as Green Arrow stepped out of cover, scanning over the aftermath of the explosion with an impact arrow to verify that the enemy had been dealt with. He let his bowstring go lax but kept the arrow nocked just in case. A small sigh of relief left his lungs as he put a hand to his chest to activate his commlink with the Knight.

"How's it going?"

"All clear so far," he answered a moment later. "What about you?"

A groan from one of the downed gunmen prompted him to whack him in the head with his bow. "Nothing I couldn't handle." A quiet scuff from behind prompted him to whirl around, arrow drawn back. His eyes widened as he added, "But I get the feeling that's about to change."

"Good instincts," drawled the trenchcoat-clad newcomer.

Near the caved-in gate swaggered in Richard Dragon, flanked on either side by rifle-toting thugs with ballistic masks and heavy body armor. Green Arrow slowly lowered the bow and let the string go lax, slowly returning the arrow to his quiver. Faster than any of the three could react, he drew back two neurotoxin arrows at once and nailed Diaz's bodyguards in the shoulder, where the armor was weakest. They hit the deck as one a second or two later. Diaz sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I swear, I gotta do everything myself."

Before Green Arrow could respond, Diaz reached under the right-hand flap of his trenchcoat and hefted a pump-action shotgun. At twenty feet, he expected the spread to mitigate the effects of the initial blast. He didn't anticipate the Dragon loading his weapon with lead slugs. The sheer impact force knocked the wind out of him, and he barely managed to roll out of it. Caden had just enough presence of mind to throw a flashbang flechette at Diaz right before the second slug came his way.

Diaz turned away from the explosion to avoid being blinded, sending his shot wide to the left and giving Green Arrow enough time to scramble for cover and get out of sight. He gasped and took deep, gulping breaths to recover and fight back the pain. Looking down, he saw three gaping holes in the green color scheme of his vest, one much larger than the other two. Groaning, he nocked another arrow and popped out of cover to send it at Diaz. The crime lord rolled sideways and returned fire from a crouch, sending splinters and wood chips flying through the air when Caden ducked back behind cover.

Three more slugs tore through the pallet, forcing him to get lower and lower before he heard the telltale click of an empty chamber. Green Arrow flew from behind cover, sending another arrow toward the Dragon's chest. He raised the shotgun mid-reload, catching the arrow with the butt of the gun right as Arrow slammed into him shoulder-first. An arrow in his hand slashed through the gun's strap mid-tumble, sending it flying from Diaz's grasp before the arrow was redirected to stab at his shoulder. Diaz slapped his hand aside and countered with a backfist to the face that was deflected with his bow.

A low kick from Arrow sent Diaz's rear leg backward, forcing him to one knee. A knee to the face sent the Dragon rolling backward, trying to get some distance between them. Green Arrow lunged at him, alternating bow strikes with thrusts of the arrow still in his right hand. A few blunt impacts managed to get through Diaz's defenses, but for the most part he managed to avoid the worst of the onslaught despite Caden's best efforts. After ducking under a wide horizontal swipe with the bow, the Dragon lunged forward in a crouch and nailed Caden in the ribs with a half-dozen chain punches before withdrawing from his counterattack.

Green Arrow overlapped wide strikes with precise thrusts and rapid kicks to force the Dragon on the defensive, but his superior strength wasn't serving him well owing to Diaz's Wing Chun background. Thus, he threw the rulebook out the window and threw his bow at Diaz, managing to distract him long enough to close the distance with a flying knee that sent him crashing into the concrete wall of the factory. Caden lunged toward him with the arrow before he could recover, Diaz just managing to keep the arrowhead from piercing his body.

All Drake had to do was close the distance; his body armor wouldn't help a bit—he'd chosen a tungsten-headed arrow for just that reason.

"This is for Quentin," he snarled into Diaz's face.

And then he caught a flicker of gray and silver in the edge of his vision, and an idea occurred to him.

God, I hope I'm right.

Gritting his teeth, Caden braced against the incoming pain and allowed Diaz to turn the arrow back on him, directing the arrowhead into his own left shoulder. Green Arrow screamed and staggered back as the Dragon dug the arrowhead deeper into his shoulder and pivoted around to slam him into the wall, sending pain exploding across his arm and upper torso. Diaz shoved him into the wall one more time, sending him sliding to the ground as he grasped the arrow in his shoulder to stabilize it.

"You're good," Diaz taunted as he drew a Sig Sauer from the back of his belt and lifted it to Caden's head, "but you're no Oliver Queen."

He almost smirked at that. You're right—I'm better.

But right then, proving that wasn't his purpose.

…

"Hey!"

Richard Dragon snapped his attention to the new voice from across the motor pool, in the direction of the gate.

Standing there was the Knight, his glare visible even at that distance. "Remember me?!"

Diaz smiled and lowered his weapon, swaggering toward the Knight. "So you survived; I'm impressed!" He shrugged, waving his gun in Jason's direction. "Less so that you came back for more. I'd have thought you'd be a little smarter than that."

Jason snarled behind his helmet. "Maybe I learn faster than you think."

With that, he threw a smoke pellet at the same time that Diaz opened fire on him, lunging for the car between them that was engulfed by the smoke. Bullets whizzed past and tore through the vehicle as lenses snapped down over Jason's eyes, lighting up the Dragon's heat signature. A second later, a razor-fine aluminum-carbide barb lanced into the shoulder of Diaz's firing arm, pulling a yell from his throat as Jason engaged his grapnel's reel function. Bracing his legs against the other side of the car, the grapnel yanked Diaz across the motor pool and dragged him through the gravel as he tried to realign his sight picture.

When the distance closed to about twelve feet, the Knight leapt over the hood of the car with a roar, letting the grapnel pull him the rest of the way into a drop-kick that separated Diaz from his gun and sent them both tumbling through the gravel. Jason yanked on the cable as soon as he got enough leverage, pulling Diaz into a hook that worked his jaw around. Snarling, the Dragon yanked the cable out of his shoulder and reached back to his belt, drawing the same karambit he'd used on Jason last time.

The first two swipes missed, barely, but that was intentional. Jason stayed as close as possible to limit Diaz's field of vision with regard to his motions, allowing him to reach to his belt and draw a batarang, thrusting it up at the Dragon's gut—the same spot he'd been stabbed. Diaz slapped it aside and countered with a swing at Jason's neck. He ducked into the blow, sending the knife skidding over his helmet and opening Diaz up to a hook to the ribs that made him flinch. The Dragon spun away to reorient himself, opening with a left jab and following with a left snap-kick to Knight's hip.

Jason tucked his arm against his head to block the jab and raised his right leg to stop the kick with his shin. His left hand snapped out to catch Diaz across the chin, his right lashing out to swing at his face with the batarang. The Dragon ducked the slice and countered with a swipe aimed at Jason's midsection. He popped his hips backward, sending the blade skidding off his ab-plates, and countered with a shin-kick to the gut. Diaz braced for the strike and used his empty hand to catch Jason's leg, readying to cut it the same way he'd done to his left last time. The Knight caught the knife on his batarang, trapping him there just long enough to leap up and nail Diaz in the head with his other leg.

They both tumbled to the ground, rolling upright and trading blows with their blades until a roundhouse-kick separated Jason from the batarang and a return hook-kick nailed him in the chest. He grunted with the impact, but managed to snag Diaz's foot and pull him off-balance. Angling himself behind the Dragon, Knight grabbed him around the neck and shoulder in a triangle choke that quickly fell apart when Diaz swung for his fingers. Instead, he linked his arms around the Dragon's midsection and suplexed him into the gravel.

Diaz leapt into a crouch and sent a roundhouse at Jason's head as they both scrambled for the upper hand, just ducked and countered with a side-kick that nailed him in the gut and sent him rolling away. A flying knee slammed into Jason's helmet, sending him staggering backward and barely able to deflect the incoming knife-strikes with his gauntlets. That disorientation left him open to a kick that knocked him back into a car door, his impact caving it in. He caught Diaz's knife with his left gauntlet and tried to counter with a right hook, but found his wrist grabbed and used to swing him back-first into the car's other door.

His head was slammed into the window a second later, shattering the glass and stunning him further. The next thing he knew, he was thrown to the ground and his right arm was pinned under the Dragon's left knee, that accursed knife descending on his neck. Jason just barely managed to stop it by grabbing Diaz's wrist, but it was clearly a losing battle with two arms and gravity fighting his one. Gritting his teeth in panic, he tried unsuccessfully to free his right arm before his eyes flickered to the side to see Green Arrow's skewered form heaving with the effort of trying to wrench the arrow out of his shoulder.

If he failed now, Caden would still be vulnerable and with the Dragon's gun nearby, it was only a matter of getting a few good shots in and they'd both be dead.

It was with that cheery thought that something occurred to him, and he shifted his arm just enough that he was no longer grasping Diaz's wrist, but pushing back with his forearm.

A split-second later, the Dragon shrieked as one of Jason's left arm-blades deployed and punched through his knife-arm's wrist. His recoil lessened the weight on Jason's right arm, which freed it enough to rabbit-punch Diaz in the throat. While he was stunned, Knight retracted his blades and used both hands to strip the knife from the Dragon's hand before using his own hands to spring into a mule-kick that sent Diaz flying six feet away. Scrambling upright, Jason didn't even take a moment to catch his breath before lunging forward into a barrage of powerful hooks and crosses that battered Diaz's crippled defenses, specifically his injured right side.

Finally, he recoiled and dropped his guard, leaving him vulnerable to a thrust-kick that sent him crashing back-first into a car. Roaring, Jason leapt sideways and sprung off a nearby stack of pallets, using his momentum to nail the Dragon in the jaw with a flying cross that sent them both tumbling to the ground. Their heavy breaths filled the otherwise quiet night air for a few seconds before Diaz chuckled haltingly.

"Not bad, kid. If I didn't know you had such a giant stick up your ass, I might have a place for you in my organization."

Jason grunted and hauled himself upright, cautiously making his way toward Diaz. "I'd be happy to pull it out and ram it up yours."

He laughed. "Oh I bet you would. Not happening tonight, though."

"Yeah," he replied with a smirk, "because my foot's already planted firmly up there."

Diaz smiled malevolently. "Not what I meant."

Before Jason could put him in cuffs or ask him to clarify, tandem cracks sounded in the distance, and he found the wind knocked out of him from two shots that impacted his upper torso. He dove for cover behind the pallets, giving Diaz just enough room to scramble upright and make his way toward the squad of reinforcements that had just arrived. Growling, he was about to lunge from cover when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Let him go."

He looked back at Green Arrow incredulously. "But—he's right there!"

"And so's a small army of backup." By the look on his face, Caden wasn't any happier about it than he was. "Live to fight another day."

Jason clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth at the smug look on Richard Dragon's bloodied face before cursing under his breath and drawing his grapnel.

"Hold onto me!"

The Knight popped another smoke pellet, using his sonar lenses to send his grapnel shot into a nearby building and reel them up, the smoke giving them enough cover for the gunmen to be out of range before they could get a bead. As they crashed through one of the upper-floor windows of the building, Jason hauled Green Arrow upright, gingerly holding the side that had held one of his own arrows as they got the hell out of there.

…

Jason fumed the whole way back to Caden's penthouse, casting the upper half of his gear in an unceremonious pile as soon as he got to the training room.

"We had him!"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Caden replied calmly, "and it won't be the last." He grunted in pain as he peeled off his perforated vest and set about treating the hole in his shoulder. "Just bad luck, I guess."

That caused Jason to stop in his tracks, slowly turning to face him.

Caden sensed his intent gaze and arched an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Jason's lips pursed. "The historical records of you aren't exactly comprehensive, but there are two things that are pretty clear. First: the only unmodified human you've ever lost a one-on-one fight to is my father." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And second: you don't believe in luck."

Just the faintest twitch of something tugged at Caden's lips, causing Jason's suspicion to spike.

"You threw the fight."

And with that, he smirked and shrugged. "Guilty."

Jason stared at hm in abject shock for a moment before half-yelling, "Why?! You could've ended his threat tonight, dead or alive. You had him pinned."

His head shook slowly. "That wasn't the point."

He blinked uncomprehendingly for a second. "You…you wanted me to fight him."

"I did."

"Why? Why would you do that, knowing how things turned out last time?"

"Because I knew things would turn out differently."

Jason's confusion spiked, and he shook his head. "I don't follow."

Caden sighed and sat back on a crate as he began suturing his shoulder with a small wince. "Think back to our little sparring session. When did the tables turn? I mean really turn?"

His mind ran for a second or two. "You…had me pinned in a headlock."

"Uh huh."

"And…you were taunting me about—Kara."

"Warmer."

Jason's eyes widened. "You didn't throw the fight just to give me a shot at him. You wanted to be vulnerable, to give me something to protect."

Caden smiled.

Jason approached him slowly, wagging a finger at him. "And you didn't talk about my parents and Kara to piss me off—you were trying to get me to focus on them because—"

"Because you have consistently fought harder and better every time you do. Think back to your first night in this time, when you went up against Cheetah, someone who regularly gives Wonder Woman a hard time." Caden smirked. "Did you really think a year of training with the Hood is what made you survive that long?"

Jason frowned, eyes narrowing. "Wait…I only told Jay about that. How'd you know?"

Caden's eyes widened almost-imperceptibly. Apparently, he hadn't meant for Jason to catch that.

And then it all fell into place. "You're why he was in Gotham. Those guns, that whole operation—it was Richard Dragon's, and you couldn't go after it yourself because—"

"Because I had another crisis here in Star City. Red and I have always shared a...strange kind of kinship."

Jason blinked. "That's why you invited me here in the first place." His hand drifted down to the scar on his gut. "You felt guilty about what happened."

"Not guilty, no." Caden cast him a reprimanding look. "You went looking for trouble and found it. But…I suppose I felt a bit responsible for creating the circumstances that led to…all that. Still, it's probably better that I had. If you'd gotten into that situation on your own, you wouldn't be alive to have this conversation."

He shrugged, conceding the point.

"My point is, every time you've performed well above expectations, it's always been for someone or something greater than yourself. When you faced down Cheetah, you were trying to save your parents. When you flawlessly fought Iles' crew, it was to protect the Markans and your brother. Even when you and Kara were kidnapped yesterday, same deal." He snorted. "Though she clearly didn't need the protection."

Jason frowned. "I got sloppy and forgot the grenade launcher."

"Did you really?"

"Well…" he thought for a second, "no. I guess I just thought he'd be smarter than to set off a grenade in such a confined space."

"I'm guessing you were stuck in a room with him for a while; did he strike you as a particularly rational person?"

Jason huffed a laugh. "I guess not, no."

Caden smiled. "Either way, you see my point, yes?"

"I'm starting to." His lips pursed. "Though I still don't understand why you'd pass up the chance to capture the Dragon just to teach me a lesson."

Caden sighed. "As hard as it may be to believe, in this situation, Richard Dragon is the small fish."

His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

Caden's lips pursed as he nodded and pulled out his PDA. A wall-spanning flatscreen display was revealed when a false wall peeled back, showing an extensive file of various crimes, names, and mug shots.

"Before Oliver went to prison, he and the FBI dealt a crippling blow to Diaz's operations in Star City, forced him to run with his tail between his legs." He swiped something on his phone that brought up an image of the Dragon surrounded by heavily armed men. "Then, not long after you showed up in Gotham, he came back stronger than ever, with numbers and resources I know he couldn't have built up on his own in the little time he had."

Jason frowned. "You think there's someone backing him."

"I know there is." Another couple swipes showed numerous transaction records and shipments of encrypted contents. "I don't know who they are exactly, or where they came from, but I know they're powerful and global. We're talking billions invested in numerous criminal enterprises across the world since August, and what I've dug up is just scratching the surface."

He huffed and shook his head in disbelief. "This mystery organization have a name?"

Caden nodded. "They're clever, hiding behind numerous brokers and shell corporations, but one name keeps popping up wherever I look."

Jason's eyes widened at the big, bold letters that filled the screen.

The Decembrists.

Caden noticed his reaction. "You know the name?"

He nodded slowly, eyes darkening. "For all the wrong reasons."

"Hm." Drake tilted his head and smiled a little. "Then perhaps it wasn't coincidence that brought you into the Dragon's path. I hesitate to say fate, but…considering your heritage, maybe those three old ladies had something to do with it after all."

At the very mention of his Olympian heritage, he frowned and hummed absently.

"Anyway, you better rest up. Got an early flight tomorrow."

Jason cast him a confused look. "Flight? Where?"

Caden stared at him blankly. "Home."

"But—I just got here. I thought we were supposed to train together."

"We did." He smiled. "And you already got it." His head shook slowly. "Your problem was never in technique or lack of powers. We both know those are useless without fighting spirit. And the best fighting spirit never comes from a place of selfishness. When you fought Richard Dragon the first time, you weren't out there for some noble, higher cause, or even to protect someone you loved." Caden smiled sardonically. "You were throwing a tantrum, filled with self-pity." His lips pursed tightly. "I've been in this business a long time, kid, and let me tell you: self-pity…is the absolute last thing you want to bring into a fight."

Jason stared at the ground for a while before asking, "Then what's the first?"

Caden slowly smiled at the ground, eyes warmer than Jason could remember seeing. "As trite and cliché as it may sound: love. Love of a person, of an ideal…" he shrugged, "doesn't matter. Unless you're a selfish person by nature, focusing your motivation inward, on selfish desires will always leave you handicapped." He smiled at Jason. "And I don't think that's you."

Jason stayed silent.

"So, keep that in mind wherever you go. Every time you wade into a fight, always focus on what you're fighting for, or who. Do that, and you will be amazed how many battles you come out on top of, no matter how the odds are stacked against you." Caden's eyes intensely met his gaze. "If you remember nothing else from our time together, remember that."

Jason thought for a few seconds before asking, "So what is it you focus on?"

Caden blinked and, for a second, his eyes flickered with something uncertain and altogether melancholy before it was replaced by amusement and his face split in a toothy grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?" After a moment or two of silence, he sighed. "Anyway, you can take the bed upstairs. I won't be sleeping much tonight."

After a pause, Jason asked, "You sure?"

"Oh yeah, I'm good. Sleep well. And great job tonight."

He smiled a bit as he walked off. "Thanks."

…

Half an hour later, Jason was showered and taking two aspirin before bed. He'd almost been able to forget he had a concussion until the adrenaline ebbed from his system and he felt a splitting headache come on somewhere during Caden's lecture. The shower and a bit of ice had helped; the Dragon's beatdown had not. Still, for all the bruises and pain, Drake had been right about one thing: he'd learned a lot tonight, about himself and the job. And apparently, he was about to learn superhero boyfriend etiquette 101.

When he checked his phone for the first time in hours, he found about a dozen texts and a missed call from Kara, their contents in increasing intensity and worry, but all with the same overarching message.

[Jason?]

[U there?]

[Did I say something wrong?]

[Did I overstep last night?]

[Plz talk to me]

Jason's heart sank, and he didn't even bother listening to Kara's voicemail before he called her, wincing at the time—it was well past midnight in Star City, and she was at least an hour ahead of him. The line rang a few times before it clicked with her picking up.

"Hello?" she asked uncertainly. Despite the time, she didn't sound tired or groggy.

"I am…so sorry, Kara. I was in the middle of an operation with Green Arrow, and I totally forgot to let you know I'd be out of contact."

"…oh. Um…so you saw all the texts?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

She laughed nervously. "Guess I kinda overreacted, huh?

"No, I got distracted and left you hanging, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"…"

"Also, you absolutely did not overstep last night. That was…" he bit his lower lip, blushing at the memory, "very much okay. B-Better than okay."

Kara chuckled. "Good to know. So uh…how's Star City this time of year?"

"Cold and dangerous, but nothing I couldn't handle with the right partner. I'm actually heading home in the morning."

"Already? Wow."

Jason smiled as he reflected on his busy night. "Yeah. Apparently I'm a faster learner than even I realized."

"Well I could've told you that."

He chuckled. "There's…something I learned about myself, and I never realized how important it was until tonight."

"Yeah, Caden may be the oddball of your 'family,' but he's one hell of a teacher."

Jason's eyebrows knitted. "You know each other?"

"I mean, we've interacted from time to time, but I only know what I hear. Must be true if he got through to someone as stubborn as you."

"Hey!"

Kara laughed. "I'm just saying."

The line was filled with a comfortable silence for a while.

"So…what was it you learned?"

Jason smiled at the ceiling, eyes glazing over a bit as his mind flashed to his parents and his memories of her from the future. "I…I think I've been putting my focus in the wrong place this whole time. Thinking long-term is great, but we live in the here and now. The big picture is only so important in the day to day."

"Okay…so what does that mean?"

He smiled wider. "It means…instead of looking years into the future, fixating on events that haven't even happened yet, that might never happen now…I'm going to focus on being in the present. My goal isn't just to save my parents; it's to make sure the people in my life always have a tomorrow." Jason grinned. "And that includes you, gorgeous."

Kara giggled. "That's…really sweet, Jace. Just remember to take a moment for yourself every now and then; can't have you burning yourself out, even for us."

"I know that now. Can't help anyone if I'm a wreck."

"Just making sure. Anyway, I have work in the morning, so I'm gonna let you go."

"Okay." He smiled. "Before you do, you given any thought to where we'll be having our second date?"

She chuckled, her voice flirty. "I'll let you know."

He returned her tone. "Well, you've got my number."

"I think so."

"Good night, Kara," he laughed.

"Night, Jace."

Jason laid his phone on the nightstand, rolling on his side to stare out the wide-panel glass giving him a breathtaking panoramic view of Star City. His mind drifted once more, reviewing the course of the night and the lessons Caden had drummed into his head. Something he'd said came back to him suddenly.

"You should consider adding a prefix, or another word to it. Preferably before Knight. …Make the other word more about you."

Then his own words to Kara came back to him.

"My goal isn't just to save my parents; it's to make sure the people in my life always have a tomorrow."

Jason's lips slowly quirked upward. Tomorrow…

That single word slipped through his mind as his eyes drifted shut. That night, while the Dragon licked his wounds and the Green Arrow fought his perpetual despair alone…

The Tomorrow Knight slept, safe and secure in his life's purpose.

---

AN: Sorry it took so long for this to come out. School was absolute murder. Now that I'm done with finals, though, I finally had the time to bang the rest of this out.

So, this chapter…hmm…there are a lot of references in this chapter, mostly to the Arrowverse, thanks to the subject matter. Caden is my voice of outrage and despair with regard to the absolute travesty that was Arrow S4. Though since I felt it fit better with the story—and the characters I'm going for—I intensified events a bit. A lot. Screw S4.

Ahem, rant over.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter. I always have a blast writing archers, as anyone who's read my Elder Scrolls stories can probably tell, so having Caden as Green Arrow was an opportunity I really wanted to exploit. He'll be having a pretty big role in this story, along with several others we've already seen and a few still to come. Let me put it this way: every DC story I have ever written or plan to write is connected to this one in some way that'll become apparent in time.

Every one.

More to come soon, I hope, now that I'm on spring break, but after the crapton of writing I've done this term, I might have to rest my hands for a bit. We'll see. I'm really looking forward to the next two chapters in particular, since they'll be wrapping up Act I of this story. Now that I've had the opportunity to plan TK out a bit more, I think there will be five acts in all, though given how long it's taken me to get through Act I, I'm uncertain how long it'll take to get through the rest. Probably doesn't help that I have such a heavy course load, but alas, such is the life of a college student.

Please leave a review when you can; introducing Caden as a character is always a learning experience for me, since he's one of my oldest OCs and has had multiple iterations over the years.

Drake out.

Musical Inspirations:

Arrow (Season 5) - On the Line!: "Hit me"/opening spar/palm to the chest

Daredevil (Season 1) - Stick: start-1:20—"stop acting like it!"/"you'd already given up", 1:20-end—second wind/Jason's turnabout/flying back-kick

Arrow (Season 1) - Vigilante Justice: Knight's escape/shootout with Diaz's men/"Nothing I couldn't handle"

Arrow (Season 6) - Final Showdown with Diaz: start-1:30—Green Arrow vs. Richard Dragon, 1:30-1:54—"Hey!"/grapnel shot, 1:54-2:52—the Tomorrow Knight vs. Richard Dragon, 2:52-3:08—final beatdown/flying cross, 3:08-end—"Let him go"/grapnel escape