"HE WAS RIGHT THERE! I COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING!"
Wally was pacing frantically around the cave, angrily gesturing around the room.
"LITERALLY RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! ARGH, STUPID, STUPID-!"
"CALM DOWN!" Artemis shouted, standing directly in front of the panting speedster. "Wally, you've got to stop, you're upsetting Miss M..."
M'gann was silently crying in the corner, and Connor's arms were wrapped protectively around her waist. Wolf lay at their feet, whimpering.
"It is no one's fault," Kaldur stated firmly, although his expression said otherwise. The Helmet of Fate lay on a table besides him, no one having time to return it to it's spot in the trophy room yet. "I doubt there is anything anyone could have done, with Deathstroke-"
"Deathstroke? DEATHSTROKE! OH, what I wouldn't give to stick a sword through his gut! We should have DONE SOMETHING!" Wally shouted, attempting to resume his pacing and again being blocked by Artemis.
"We DID! We stopped the Injustice League, and saved our cities, Kid Insane! You need to calm down, too! You don't think Kaldur and I are upset? Actually, all I want to do right now is hunt that man down and put an arrow through his eye, but do you know what's stopping me? Robin! Do you know what he use to say? Get traught or get dead. Get traught, Wally!"
Wally froze at her words, his eyes wide with a wild combination of emotions that were too complicated to identify.
"Batman, 02."
"Black Canary, 13."
"Red Arrow, 21."
The team turned as one towards the zeta tubes as the three Leaguers arrived. Batman strode in first, followed closely by Black Canary, who had a look of frantic concern on her face. The last to enter was Roy, radiating such anger that Artemis even stepped back as he passed her.
"Computer, pull up all known locations of the mercenary Deathstroke's hideouts," Batman snarled, somehow sounding more frightening than usual. Artemis bit her lip nervously and exchanged a glance with the team (except M'gann, who was still sobbing in Black Canary's arms). They gathered behind Batman and Red Arrow as the computer began to search.
A tiny beep reached their ears, and a map pulled up- about fifteen red dots covered the screen six continents.
Batman turned to Roy.
"Theses are only his known haunts- he has many more, and it's unlikely that he'll actually be at-"
"It doesn't matter," Red Arrow growled (proving just how angry he was because seriously, no one in their right mind interrupts the Batman), "I have to do something."
He whirled around and stomped towards the Zeta beam.
"Recognized, Red Arrow, 21."
"Roy, wait!" Black Canary called after him, but the archer was already gone.
Batman slowly turned back to the team.
"What happened?" the Dark Knight demanded.
Artemis frowned- he wasn't asking about the mission, he was asking about Ro- Renegade. She stepped forwards, putting a carefully neutral look onto her face.
"He didn't recognize us," she said quietly, cutting through the silence. "He attacked us without any mercy. And... he called Deathstroke 'master'."
"Something wasn't right," a timid voice continued. For the first time since they had returned from the mission, Miss Martian had spoken. "I couldn't get into his head, something else was blocking it from me. But... I could gather that his memories were changed. Someone... Someone was messing with his mind." She lifted her head from Black Canary's shoulder, her eyes wide and shining in the light from unshed tears.
"Mind control?" Batman asked, and M'gann shook her head.
"No, he was making the choices of his free will," she continued quietly, hesitantly, "but he didn't recognize us at all. Memory altering is the only explanation."
Batman nodded curtly.
Wally suddenly gasped beside Artemis, and she shot a glare at him. The speedster ignored it, and moved forward.
"I-I think your wrong. He was seconds away from killing me... I know he was. And then... something different happened. It was like... he was acting like he had just gotten a major headache or something. He didn't kill me."
Miss Martian looked up, surprise and hope on her face.
"Really? But how is that possible?"
"I believe I- or, that is, Dr. Fate- have an answer to that," Aqualad said, glancing at the helmet behind them. The team turned to look at him, confused. The Atlantian sucked in a nervous breath.
"I was... hesitant to share this information before- ashamed that I resorted to putting on the helmet- but that was an illogical thought. While I was under Nabu's control, I- he caused time to freeze momentarily, so that he could converse with Renegade himself."
Artemis gasped along with the rest of the team, but Kaldur didn't give them any time to comment.
"Renegade expressed wish to be released, and said that it was Fate that left him with Luthor and Deathstroke. He believed that it was his fate to be an assassin, and demanded that Nabu let him go. I asked Dr. Fate not to comply, and Nabu agreed with me. He told Renegade that 'this was not his fate'."
"Not his fate?" Wally interrupted. "What the heck does that mean?"
Aqualad shook his head.
"I do not know. But Nabu continued to speak, and told Renegade that it wasn't his job to repair him. He said all he could do was allow him hope, and then casted spell... I cannot speak backwards, seeing as English is not my native tounge, so I could not tell what he said. But I do believe that it may have something to do with his memories."
There was silence for a moment, and everyone's gaze went towards the golden helmet behind them.
"The only way to find out exactly what happened... would be to-" Connor began, but he was cut off.
"No!"
"No!"
Wally and Kaldur had shouted at the same time, and everyone turned to them in surprise.
Wally shifted under their gazes.
"Guys, the helmet should only be used if the world's about to end. I..." he clenched his fists. "As much as I want to find Robin... we can't put on the helmet just to ask a question! Fate barely let Kaldur and I go last time. We can't risk any more members of the team." He looked physically pained to say that, and Artemis sighed.
"So we can't use the helmet. But what else are we going to do?"
"We wait," Batman said gruffly, turning back to the computer. "Deathstroke has covered his tracks too well, and Luthor won't give us any answers. All we can do is wait until one of them shows up on our radar."
Connor growled in frustration and punched the wall, then stormed off towards his room. Wally zipped out with an outraged cry before anyone could stop him. Miss Martian buried her face back into Black Canary's arms.
"Team, please..." Black Canary tried, but she was too late- they were gone.
Artemis shared a glance with Kaldur, struggling to keep it together.
Come on, Artemis, stay traught, stay traught...
She closed her eyes and allowed her shoulders to slump in defeat. Waiting was one of her worst enemies... and now it was back to haunt her again.
They needed their little bird back... and fast, before it tore the team apart.
_Line Break_
Dick gasped in pain as he was tossed into the room. Slade towered above him, radiating anger.
"You failed."
He obviously wasn't willing to hear an excuse.
"What am I going to do with you, apprentice..."
Dick shivered at his tone- that was the voice that promised punishment.
"I gave you one simple task, and you couldn't even kill one of the sidekicks. I'm ashamed of you, boy."
Dick kept his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, and Slade snarled, grabbing his chin and tilting it upwards.
"Look at me when I am speaking to you."
Dick flinched at his touch and raised his gaze to look Deathstroke in his single eye.
"Yes, master," he whispered quietly. Slade sighed dramatically.
"Tell me, apprentice... when was the last time you failed me?"
Dick thought back frantically for an answer, sorting through his missions in his head.
"Wayne," he blurted out. "The Wayne contract."
Slade nodded.
"And, Renegade... do you remember what happened after you failed?"
Oh yeah, Dick remembered... the fiery pain of the whip, the blood dripping down his back, the cold, harsh floor...
He still had the scars.
Scars...?
"Renegade... where did you get those scars?"
"I... I am sorry, my friend."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Renegade!"
Dick flinched as the unknown voices entered his head- what was that? Who were those people? Why did he keep hearing voices in his head?
Was he going insane?
Suddenly Dick realized that Slade was no longer in his sight, and he jerked in surprise as Slade came back into view... with the whip in his hand.
No...
"Shirt, boy."
No, he didn't want to!
"Slade," he gasped out, almost scooting backwards but catching himself just in time. "Master, wait, let me-"
"Shirt."
Dick clamped his jaw shut and wordlessly (but hesitantly) removed his shirt. The second the cloth was gone, the whip came whistling down, cracking against his bare back. He clenched his teeth as a second lash fell, sending waves of agonizing, firey pain through his nerves.
"You have done well up until now, Renegade," Slade said, letting the whip fall once more before stopping for a moment. "I'm surprised at this slip-up. But then again, you've never been able to kill any of the sidekicks before..."
Another blow fell, and Dick made the mistake of opening his mouth. A cry of pain managed to escape him.
"And then of course, Dr. Fate was there, too... I didn't expect that, but I even took care of him while you were suppose to kill the little heroes."
Dick jerked his head up.
"Fate put a spell on me!" he hissed before another blow could fall. "He did something!"
"Making excuses, are we, apprentice?" Slade accused, but the whip fell silent, and Dick assumed that he was being given a chance to speak.
He trapped me in a bubble of magic, and slowed time to speak with me- he casted a spell, too, and ever since then I've been hearing voices in my head! Voices that aren't mine... I don't know who they belong to!"
Silence. Then-
"Voices..."
Slade sounded genuinely confused, but not disbelieving. "Tell me, boy, when was the first time you heard these voices?"
Dick exhaled in relief as the whip was lowered- he could hear it dragging against the floor.
"I shot the speedster boy through the leg, and I was a second away from killing him... and then I heard his voice, talking to me." A sudden thought made him blink in fear- what if Slade thought he was truly going insane?
The mercenary dropped the whip onto the ground.
"Psimon, get in here. Bring Luthor as well."
It took Dick a second to realize that he was speaking through a communicator. A few seconds later, footsteps could be heard outside, and then the automatic door wooshed open.
"Deathstroke. May I ask what... oh." Lex stopped when he saw Dick kneeling on the ground, and the abandoned whip on the floor. He frowned.
"Well then... I'm assuming the mission didn't go as planned."
Dick almost glared at him, but realized that it was probably a bad idea with the whip still in the room.
For the first time, Dick noticed a hooded figure standing behind Luthor. Slade gestured to him.
"Psimon. Renegade says that Dr. Fate cast a spell on him... and now he's hearing voices in his head."
There was a double meaning in his words, and Dick frowned- he hated not knowing what was going on. But Lex and the hooded figure both seemed to understand.
"Impossible," Luthor said. "Psimon was very thorough..."
The hooded figure, Psimon, stepped forwards and lowered his hood, revealing a large brain beneath.
"We shall see," he said, staring Dick directly in the eyes. "Psimon says... let me into your mind."
Dick gasped as something forced its way into his head- and for some reason the agonizing feeling was familiar, in a horrible way- like he'd felt it before-
And then suddenly the pain was gone, replaced with an overwhelming golden light. Dick gasped as sudden, uncontrollable power emerged from deep inside his mind. It reared up, and suddenly the light was so bright that he was forced to squeeze his eyes shut. Then, as quickly as it had happened, the power disappeared, and Dick was left weak without it. The floor rushed up to meet him, and then he knew no more.
_Line Break_
The second Psimon tried to get into Renegade's head to figure out why he was remembering things, everything went wrong. Lex could tell by the horrible, pained expression on the telepath's face.
Gold light erupted in the air around their assassin-in-training, nearly blinding Lex with it's brilliance. Beside him he heard Deathstroke growl, and then the bright light shifted, forming a blazing ankh in the air above the boy. Lex couldn't keep the surprise from showing on his face... especially when the ankh suddenly brightened, and he, Psimon, and Deathstroke were thrown backwards, flying across the room. All three of them hit the back wall with impressive thuds.
For a moment, none of them dared to move.
Slowly, hesitantly, Lex raised his head and looked at the assassin.
Golden energy still swarmed around the boy, but it was fading, and suddenly Renegade looked absolutely exhausted. As the last of the light faded away, the boy crumpled to the ground. It took a few more seconds for Lex to find the courage to rise to his feet.
Deathstroke was first to make it to the boy, his single eye narrowed at the limp figure. Lex approached them and watched as the mercenary carefully inspected the boy- he was strangely uninjured, unlike the rest of them- Lex could already feel the massive bruise on his back from hitting the wall.
A groan from behind them made him turn around. Psimon was clambering to his feet, his hands clamped around his head almost protectively. He seemed to be in pain, but Lex didn't particularly care about the telepath- right now he needed answers.
"What was that?" he demanded harshly as Psimon finally stood, leaning against the wall unsteadily. "What happened?"
Psimon blinked and looked up at him.
"I-it... Dr. Fate... I don't..."
Deathstroke growled.
"What. Happened."
Psimon frowned.
"I tried to get into the boy's head... but the second I did, the spell threw me out! I cannot access his mind."
"What?" Lex growled, clenching his fists. "What do you mean? Explain!"
The telepath looked visibly shaken.
"Dr. Fate did place a spell on him... one that is preventing me from going back into his mind. A mental shield."
Lex rubbed his face with his hands in frustration.
"So... you can't fix him."
Psimon glared at him in answer.
Deathstroke growled.
"You've got to be kidding me. So these... flashbacks he's been having... they won't go away. You can't fix it."
Psimon shook his head.
"The flashbacks are also a result of Fate's meddling. They're very small... almost unimportant fragments of memories. I doubt his full memories will ever come back- he'll probably only get snippets. Voices, a brief image."
"So, in other words... he'll think he's insane," Luthor added in.
Psimon glanced at him nervously and didn't answer.
"Or... we could simply tell him that Fate put a spell on him," Deathstroke hissed.
"Fine," Lex said, waving his hand. "That's fine. It's not like he has his memories back now, is it? And there's nothing we can do about it anyway with Fate's spell protecting his mind."
Before Deathstroke could respond, a small groan caught their attention, and they all glanced down towards the boy on the floor. He was beginning to regain consciousness, and Lex and Psimon shared a panicked look- what the heck were they going to tell him- but Deathstroke already seemed to know what they were thinking. He knelt next to Renegade.
"Renegade."
The boy's eyes slowly fluttered open.
"Ugh... master?" he said hoarsely, struggling to rise to his feet. Deathstroke held up a hand, though, signalling for him to stop.
"Stay down, apprentice. You took a nasty hit to the head. Hold still."
The mercenary began to systematically check the boy over. Renegade shifted uncomfortably.
"What... what happened?" he asked, his eyes darting around, taking in the destroyed room. The blast from Fate's spell had left nothing unscathed... except the boy himself.
"The spell that Dr. Fate put on you activated once Psimon attempted to find out what was wrong," Deathstroke explained smoothly. "It attempted to kill us."
Renegade frowned.
"I... sorry, Master," he said quietly. "I didn't know-"
"Apprentice. You had no way of knowing. You won't be punished."
Renegade visibly relaxed at his words, and with an approving nod from Deathstroke, finally stood.
"Where are we?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. Lex stepped forward.
"One of Deathstroke's safehouses in Chicago... one the League isn't aware of," he answered. "This will be your new base until the League finally stops searching for us. We can't- well, you can't- return to Lexcorp until then."
The boy frowned, but nodded in acceptance.
"What, exactly, did Fate's spell do to me?"
"Fate tried to plant fake memories into your head," Deathstroke lied, and if Lex hadn't known that it was a lie to begin with he wouldn't have suspected a thing. "He mostly failed. You said that you've been hearing voices in your head, apprentice? Just a trick of Fate."
Renegade glanced at the floor.
"Of course, Master," he said, but the young assassin didn't sound very convinced. Deathstroke let it go, however.
"Now then," Lex said, "we have some other business to deal with." He turned and sent a very, very angry glare towards Psimon.
"You are of no more use to us, Psimon. You failed. Leave."
The telepath didn't need him to say it twice. Without a word he pulled the hood of his cloak up and disappeared out the door. Lex scowled after him. He had failed to keep Renegade from getting any of his memories back... disregarding the fact that Psimon probably didn't stand a chance against a Lord of Order. He couldn't help them now.
"Come, apprentice," Deathstroke purred, motioning for the boy to follow. "We need to prepare you for future missions... and dye your hair blond."
Lex almost chuckled at the boy's stunned expression.
"Blond? Why blond?" he complained, a horrified look on his face.
"The police seem to be under the impression that your hair is blond for some reason, Renegade," Deathstroke explained. "I see no reason to correct them... and Richard Grayson doesn't have blond hair, so it should protect your identity more..."
As they left the room, Lex couldn't stop a grin from sliding into place.
Renegade may have failed, and he may have a slight problem with his memory now... but now they had their assassin back.
The Light would be pleased.
_Line Break_
Inhale.
Exhale.
Pull back.
Inhale.
Aim.
Exhale.
And... Release.
His arrow soared through the air and slammed into the control panel. Roy watched as it began to spark, his arrow pumping volts of electricity into the system.
It was late at night, and Roy was grateful for that- it covered him as he fired a second arrow, this time with a line attatched. Quietly, he hooked his bow over the line and grappled over to the building.
He was at one of Deathstroke's haunts in Bludhaven, and he was searching for Dick. Roy wasn't going to rest until he found him.
(Logic was screaming at him in the back of his head- he isn't here! Dick isn't here, and neither is Deathstroke, you idiot! They wouldn't go back to a place that they knew the League was aware of!), but he truly didn't care at this point.)
Silent as a shadow, Roy began moving around the side of the building, searching for an entrance point. The windows were locked, and he didn't want to attract attention to himself quite yet. He still had some snooping to do.
Roy used a small mirror to glance around a corner, and nearly swore when he spotted someone approaching. Thinking fast, he fired his wrist-grappling hook up onto the roof and flew up into the night- just in time, too. The second he was out of site, a man appeared, with a machine gun slung over his shoulder. Roy watched in silence as he glanced around and then pulled a radio from his belt.
"East side, all clear," he reported gruffly.
"We read you, East side. Continue your patrol," a second voice answered. The man clipped the radio back onto his belt.
Perfect. There wasn't a better time to strike.
Below him, the man had lit a cigarette and was leaning against the wall. Roy leaped down from his perch on the roof, landing in front of the man.
"Don't you know that smoking is bad for you?" he hissed, and before the man could shout out in alarm, Roy grabbed him in a choke hold and slapped a hand over his mouth. The man struggled briefly, but Roy applied just a tiny bit more pressure, and he froze. The machine gun clattered to the ground, and in the silence of the night it almost sounded like a thunderclap. For a split second, Roy just stood there, frozen, but then he returned to his senses.
"Where is Deathstroke?" Roy snarled quietly into the man's ear. "Tell me! Is he here?"
The man nodded frantically, trembling in Roy's grip.
"Good," Roy said, and then he landed a solid punch to the side of the man's head, effectively knocking him out. Glancing down, Roy stomped out the cigarette on the ground before continuing around the building.
There were two guards by the front door- but Roy would have to be insane to even consider going in that way. The man had said that Deathstroke was there, and the mercenary was probably expecting company. He'd have to be patient a little longer.
He traveled to the third side of the building and was pleased to find a small, unguarded door near the end of the building. It was locked, but luckily Roy had come prepared... with an explosive arrow. He already knew Deathstroke was here... now it was time for him to make his move.
Roy backed up from the door and reached into his quiver, fingering through the arrows until his hands found the right one. He gently placed it on the string and pulled back, aiming at the door.
Inhale.
Exhale.
This was it.
Inhale.
For some reason, he was strangely apprehensive of firing the arrow. Maybe it was because he would finally be breaking the silence? Maybe it was because he didn't have any backup at all, not even Green Arrow this time? Maybe it was because he was worried about Deathstroke and Dick, and what he would find if he entered the building?
Roy didn't know. He couldn't decide... or possibly it was all of them.
Exhale.
But he didn't care.
Release.
BOOM!
The explosion seemed incredibly loud in the silence, hurting Roy's eardrums. He sprinted forwards without hesitation, cutting through the smoke and passing through the twisted remains of the metal door.
Alarms began to blare, and as he ran through the dimly lit corridor bright red lights began to flash overhead. Shouts filled the air. It sounded like there were a lot more guards...
For the first time, Roy suddenly realized that attacking one of Deathstroke's haunts had definitely not been one of his best ideas. He really should have taken more time to figure out how many guards there were, what they were armed with, exactly where Deathstroke was, etc... He had been so desperate to find his friend, and so excited that the man had said that Deathstroke was actually there...
But there was nothing he could do about it, now.
There were footsteps in front of him, and Roy nocked an arrow as two men rounded the corner. He released it, and it flew straight, disarming the first man. Roy continued forwards, barreling into them. As the second one raised his gun, Roy knocked it aside with his bow and threw a fist into his face. He fell to the floor, out cold.
The other man that Roy had already disarmed swiped at him with a knife, and Roy twisted to avoid it just in time. He slammed the tip of his bow into the man's gut, effectively knocking the wind out of him, and then followed up with a swift elbow to the side of the head. His opponent dropped to the floor like a stone.
More footsteps were approaching, and Roy growled under his breath. He had to find Deathstroke- he didn't have time to deal with all these grunts!
As three more men rounded the corner, shouting, Roy sent two arrows at them- the first one landing directly between the first two men and spraying knockout gas into their faces, and the second arrow slamming into the last man's chest and sending electricity through his body. They fell as well.
More thudding feet. Roy sighed, this really wasn't working. He needed to find a better way to navigate through the building- one that preferably didn't include knocking out every single man he came across. He glanced up- there.
Air vents.
But they were so small...
Roy grit his teeth as more men rounded the corner, and bullets began to fly. He had to make a decision, and fast. There wasn't any cover for him to hide behind here, and he'd be shot if he held still any longer.
He swore under his breath and fired one final arrow at the ground. It exploded on impact and sent clouds of smoke billowing into the air. Confused shouts from the men reached his ears, and Roy took the opportunity to reach up and gently lower the vent covering to the ground. He sent a doubtful look at the tiny airshaft- there was no way he was going to fit in there...
The smoke was beginning to clear, and Roy noticed a door to his left. Gritting his teeth, he left the vent and slipped inside the door as quietly as possible, shutting and locking it behind him. Holding his breath, he waited for the smoke to clear outside.
He could hear the guards yelling as they tried to figure out where he had gone. He heard the clatter of the vent covering being kicked around, and then he heard one of them shout, "He's in the vents!" Roy snorted as they began to move away from his position. They hadn't even bothered to check the room right next to the vents... sure he had left the covering off, but that didn't mean he was in there! And he was too big to fit!
The men didn't seem to follow his logic, however.
Roy shook his head. These were pretty crappy guards...
Turning, he took in the room behind him and growled in frustration.
Nothing! There was literally nothing that could be of any use to him at all in the room. There were two round tables, a vending machine, a fridge, several chairs, and a plate of cookies.
Seriously?
The footsteps had faded outside, and Roy opened the door a crack and peered outside (he considered taking a cookie for a second, but eventually decided against it- he didn't want any of Deathstroke's evil cookies). He could still hear a commotion in other hallways, but for the moment the hallway in front of him was empty.
Perfect.
Quietly exiting the break room (he assumed that was what it was...), Roy began swiftly moving through the fortress again, this time without the explosive arrow introduction.
He frowned, mentally scolding himself. He really should have thought his plan through more...
After several tense minutes of avoiding guards and sneaking around, Roy decided that this had to be it.
In front of him were two double doors- not particularly grand, but nothing else in this place had looked like that... If Deathstroke really was here, Roy was certain this was where he'd be. There was a single, unfortunate guard by the door, and Roy fired a foam arrow at him, effectively immersing him in the red substance. As it hardened and the man struggled, Roy emerged from around the corner.
"Where is Deathstroke?" he snarled, just to be sure, and the man stared at him with terrified eyes.
"In there!" he gasped, motioning towards the door with his eyes. Roy walked up to him.
"Thank you," he said, and then he punched the man in the face.
He opened the door with his foot, since he needed both hands to hold his bow ready to fire. It slammed shut behind him, and Roy shivered. Something... something wasn't right here.
"Deathstroke!" he called, glancing around the dimly lit room. "Show yourself!"
It was a fairly large room, actually, and the edges of the room were blanketed in shadows.
"Well... it seems I was correct."
Roy tensed, looking around for the owner of the cold, smooth voice.
"I knew someone would show up."
From the other side of the room, Deathstroke appeared, walking out of the shadows. Roy growled at him- those grunts had been telling the truth, after all.
"Where is Robin?" he demanded, aiming an explosive arrow directly at the villain's head. Deathstroke chuckled.
"Who?"
"You know who I mean!" Roy roared, and Deathstroke tilted his head slightly.
"You mean my apprentice, Renegade? I'm afraid I didn't bring him along..."
Roy released the arrow, but Deathstroke dodged aside and raced forwards. Roy shot another arrow (a sharp one this time, he wasn't going to pull back his punches for the terrible man that had hurt Dick so much!), but Deathstroke dodged that one, too, and suddenly he was directly on top of Roy. Roy saw a foot rocketing towards his face and just managed to move out of the way in time. He backed up as Deathstroke attacked again.
The mercenary sent punch after punch after him, and Roy was only barely able to keep up with the powerful blows, struggling to block them. Suddenly Deathstroke landed a hit on his stomach, and it felt like a sledgehammer had been slammed into his gut. He staggered backwards, gasping in pain.
It was time for a new strategy.
Roy drew an arrow from his quiver- one that he rarely used- and threw it down onto the ground, not even bothering to use his bow. On impact, the tip burst, and ice began to spread along the ground. Deathstroke staggered for a moment, caught off guard, and Roy took the opportunity to disappear into the shadows, just like the mercenary had done earlier.
Watching the orange-and-black armored figure recover, Roy frowned. Something was off here... and he couldn't tell what. As Deathstroke turned, searching the room for him, Roy quietly prepared to fire another arrow.
"You won't find safety in the shadows, archer," Deathstroke said, his voice somehow filling the entire room. Roy's eyes widened, but before he could say anything Deathstroke was charging at him. Roy released the arrow, but it missed it's mark (he had been caught by surprise), and he dove aside, falling into a combat roll to evade the mercenary.
Deathstroke was still coming after him, and Roy knew he would never be able to stand in time to dodge again- so instead, he threw his hand backwards and grabbed a razor-tipped arrow from his quiver. Deathstroke was nearly on top of him and Roy lunged across the floor, stabbing the arrow into his opponent's left ankle.
Nothing happened.
Deathstroke made no sound of pain, didn't flinch or recoil at all! Roy scrambled to his feet, staring in horror as the mercenary continued to advance, perfectly fine... with and arrow sticking out of his ankle- wait. He wasn't bleeding... not at all!
A spark flew up from the wound, and Roy couldn't stop the gasp of disbelief from escaping him.
"Surprised, archer?" Deathstroke asked, suddenly stopping, and Roy felt a surge of anger.
"Who... what are you?" he growled, nocking an arrow and firing it towards Deathstroke's face. The mercenary didn't even try to avoid it- he simply stood there as the arrow knocked the mask off of his face, to reveal...
A computer screen?
It buzzed to life a second later, as Roy was still trying to comprehend what was going on.
"Well... I see you've discovered my little scheme."
Roy stared at the new masked face.
"I... I was fighting a robot," he stated, and Deathstroke- the real Deathstroke on the screen- nodded once.
"Yes. Yes, you were. You didn't think you'd stand a chance of hitting me at all if I was really there, do you?" he purred, gesturing off screen towards the robot's sparking ankle.
"But the guards... they..."
"The men you fought were hired goons from the street. Do you believe that I would require guards to defend myself? I told them to tell you what you wanted to hear... that I was in the building. They were paid extremely well."
"What was the purpose of this?" Roy snarled.
"I simply wanted to see what hero would be foolish enough to search for me... at a base that the League already knows exists. Did you truly think I would be that dense as to stay somewhere that you know where it is?"
Roy shifted uneasily.
"Where's Robin?" he hissed, avoiding the question, and Deathstroke looked at him with a narrowed eye.
"And do you really think I'll tell you that?
Roy scowled at him and didn't answer that, either.
"Foolish boy. I have a message for the League."
"I won't deliver it," Roy growled (yes, it was somewhat childish, but he didn't care).
Deathstroke waved a hand in the air dismissively.
"You will. You simply surviving will be the message."
Roy blinked.
What...?
"Tell the League to stop searching for us," Deathstroke said, glaring at Roy dangerously. "They won't find us, and if anyone continues to try... some accidents might have to be arranged..."
Roy felt his blood freeze at the man's tone.
"I hope you survive."
Roy stiffened at his words- survive what?
And suddenly, the screen went dark, and the robot Deathstroke crumpled to the ground- Roy stared at it, and then red numbers appeared on the screen.
0:30...
0:29...
0:28...
A row of explosives at the very back of the room became visible as tiny red lights on the tops of them started to blink.
Roy turned around and ran.
He counted the seconds as he sprinted through the now empty hallways- it looked like the hired goons had already evacuated.
0:19...
0:18...
0:17...
He skidded around a corner... come on, come on... he was so close-!
0:10...
0:09...
0:08...
There it was, the exit! Roy willed his legs to go faster, racing for the open doorway-
0:03...
0:02...
0:01...
BOOM!
He felt a searing heat against his back, and then suddenly he was propelled across the ground by the shock wave and blasted out into open air. He hit the ground with a thud and saw his bow fly out of his hand at the impact.
For a moment, he couldn't move. And then he felt something trickling across his stomach- something hot, and wet. Gingerly, he reached down and touched it- a surge of pain shot through his entire body. He raised his hand back up and observed his hand- it was stained red.
He lifted his other hand to his ear and activated his communicator, but the second he sucked in a breath to speak, he nearly screamed in pain.
"Hello? Is anyone there? This is Black Canary, what's going on?"
"D-Dinah," Roy gasped as his vision flickered. "D-D..." It hurt to talk, and Roy could feel himself bleeding out- what had happened? Why was he even bleeding in the first place? He tried to look down at his stomach, but that only sent more waves of unbearable pain shooting through his nerves.
There was a pause on the communicator.
"Red Arrow? Roy, is that you?"
"Y-yeah..."
"Roy, what's wrong? Roy!" she sounded worried at his tone, and Roy gasped as a fresh wave of agony erupted from his abdomen.
"U-ugh... I-I..."
"Where are you? Roy, what's going on?"
"Deathstroke's... h-haunt... Blud... Bludhaven... e-explosion..."
"Stay awake, Roy! You've got to stay awake! I'm sending a team down, hang on Roy-"
Roy let his hand fall from his ear. He was so, sooo tired...
He let the darkness take him away.
A/N: I'M ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!
Wow, I really love the last section of this chapter! Roy was super fun to write... I hope he's alive... :) heh heh
And, yeah, Slade was using a Sladebot to mess with people. I would, too, if I had a robot that looked exactly like myself...
So, with a little luck, my updates should speed back up a little. I'll shoot for next weekend for the next chapter.
Huh, strangely I have nothing else to say about this chapter... okay then! Hope y'all enjoyed it! And thank you all so much for the reviews! You guys are AMAZING!
