Essentially nothing happens in this; I got carried away with writing banter. Nothing better than adding bits of personality to the characters I know from the comics and completely making up a personality for those I don't.
"Right, I think everybody should just calm down –" Rick tried, but his compatriots looked a little far from calm.
"Do you know what we do to traitors on Almerac?" Mongal said quietly, still not putting the blades away.
"Almond-y whatsit?" Dick managed.
"We pump them full of drugs so they can't pass out, before skinning them slowly, bottom-up. Then we hang the bodies from the pillars outside my palace."
"Uh…"
"You seem confused. Allow me to demonstrate."
"Oh no you don't, Empress Satsuma" Boomerang cut, elbowing her out of the way. "I'm wantin' to give him some of the old Korumburra stigmatism."
"Hey, share, will ya? There's enough for everyone!" Harley piped up, cracking her knuckles and grinning. Dick was pretty sure he preferred her glaring. At least the teeth wouldn't be blinding him whilst he died his painful death.
"Nobody's killing anybody!" Rick snapped, pushing his way in between them. "But to be frank, Blackguard, I'm amazed Waller hasn't sent your brains flying all over this forest yet."
Dick's earpiece screeched slightly as the she-devil's voice spoke once again.
"Not a word, Hertz."
"Uh…yeah, me too."
Why couldn't she just bully someone else for five minutes?
"You got any excuse as to why you shouldn't be tied up and left here while we complete the rest of the mission?" Flag asked, hands resting on his belt as he stoically glared.
"Well, you see, Commander – "
"Colonel."
"Colonel, I told you earlier, but you probably forgot, because of, y'know, everything that was going on… it was a distraction to – "
"Yeah, yeah, a distraction. I don't believe you. The Lego man over here –" he jerked a thumb at TDK, who looked slightly affronted, "- was a distraction. You just jumped up over the sand dune and announced that you'd betrayed us all."
"But I didn't mean any of it. Gotta be convincing."
"The little man is lying" Javelin nodded, twirling his weapon at the far back as he leaned against a tree.
"Little -? I'm twenty-five, asshole!"
"Basically a kid" Savant grumbled, hunched over and now slapping Weasel across the face in an attempt to wake it up. "War sure as hell isn't a game, son. You almost got everyone killed."
"Wh – hold on, why the fuck are we listening to this guy now?" Dick could only stammer in bewilderment. "You're asking what I can do, what about him? He throws a stick, for Christ's sake; he has to walk over and pick it back up! He's the boomerang guy, but worse!"
"You have guns" Javelin murmured, but Dick took some pleasure in noticing that his voice was a lot tighter. "You're the Colonel, except nobody likes you."
That shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.
"Fuck you, Goldilocks."
The kraut took a step forward and Dick stumbled back slightly.
"This is getting us nowhere" Flag snapped, checking his watch. It was either to check how long they had to get to their next destination, or how little time had passed before he'd been forced to take up the role of team mother. "We need to get at least halfway through this jungle before settling down for the night. I haven't had any further word from Waller, so Blackguard will be staying with us. That means no flaying, stabbing, or… violence of any kind, got it?"
There was some mild grumbling as the rest of the group clearly tried to think up a loophole, but the wording was pretty solid.
"What about – "
"No, Harley. And would somebody wake that thing up!"
Savant's slapping hadn't gotten him anywhere; Weasel was just as unresponsive as ever. Dick saw this as his chance to shine.
"I know CPR!" he announced to no-one in general.
He didn't, really.
Savant fixed him with his default unimpressed look, but moved aside and let him kneel in his place.
Christ, it smelled even worse at this distance.
"You gotta press down on the chest to the beat of a song by some band. What were they called, the Heebie-jeebies or something?"
"Bee Gees" said TDK.
"That's it" Dick nodded, pressing both hands over where the heart should be and thanking God that he was wearing gloves. Then a thought struck him. "Wait, do weasels have their hearts in the same place as humans?"
Boomerang snorted, his gold tooth glinting in a sliver of moonlight. "Nah, I think it's some place between the legs, mate."
"…that doesn't sound right to me, but I don't know enough about weasels to dispute it."
"It's not" Flag cut across, now sounding thoroughly fed up. "He used to be a human once, it'll be where it always is."
"Human?" TDK repeated blankly.
Flag nodded. "Doctor John Monroe. A biologist transformed by a lab accident. Or maybe it was a success, I really don't know."
It was clear that no-one really knew how to respond to this revelation.
"Why is it" Savant ground out, "that we get two doctors on an eight-person team, but both of them turn out to be idiots?"
"Sorry, where's your psychology degree, then?" Harley grinned, fingering her pistol.
Flag slowly put his head in his hands and groaned into them. "This is gonna be a long week…"
"I don't need one" Savant growled, jaw clenched. "Anyone with half a brain can tell you've got nothing going on upstairs."
"Give me ten seconds with a baseball bat and I can make sure you don't either, smart guy" Harley retorted, the manic look in her eyes more than making up for her lack of height.
"I've blackmailed some of the most powerful people in America and worked as a hitman for some of Gotham's most notorious crime families. What have you done? Get beaten around by your ex and blow up a few buildings?"
"Ooh, burn" muttered TDK.
"I killed one of those notorious crime bosses you're so in love with. An' before that, I helped Flag and Boomer stop a real, spell-throwing, supernatural witch. Ask them, they'll tell you it's true. So do you want to double down on that statement? Or do you want to keep all your teeth in your mouth before I stuff 'em down your – "
"How deep is your love, how deep is your love, I really mean to learn…"
Dick stopped rhythmically pressing when he realised it had grown quiet again. Harley and Savant had frozen, just inches away from each other, Harley's finger still raised in warning.
"…what?"
"Wrong song" TDK supplied helpfully. After his powers turned out to be such a flop, it seemed his one remaining purpose was just to occasionally chip in with two-word remarks.
"Well, I was doing You Should Be Dancing just before, but I got bored and switched, so…"
"It's meant to be Staying Alive, I think. You know, from that film, what was it, Sunday Night Jazz?"
"Saturday Night Fever" said Javelin.
"Saturday Night Fever, yeah, that was it."
"Of course, you'd know, you wuss" Dick murmured, now feeling all tired and sweaty. Trying to restart a guy's heart really took it out of you.
"Should try and give 'im the kiss of life, mate" Boomerang sniggered.
"Yeah, that's an idea" Dick agreed, starting forward.
"No, Blackguard, he's just joking – " Flag started, but Dick had already clenched his nostrils shut and leaned forward, prizing open its mouth. "…hey, wait, hang on… I think…"
"Uh, Blackguard…" came TDK's voice.
Dick shook his head, eyes shut. "No, I'm in the zone now, don't try to stop me."
"Blondie…" said Savant.
"No, trust me, I know what I'm doing – oh Jesus, what's he been eating… "
"You really don't –" interjected Harley.
"Why's there always spinach in his teeth, I didn't know they even served that stuff back at the canteen – "
He sucked in his gut and prepared himself. This was it. If he survived this, he deserved fifteen years off his sentence, easy.
Alright, he could do this.
He opened his eyes.
Weasel's were staring right back.
It was unlikely any outside observer would know who screamed louder; him or Weasel. But he definitely jumped back the furthest, almost as if he'd been launched by rocket.
The jungle echoed with so much laughter it was surprising the Corto Maltese military hadn't started shooting at them again. Even Flag was shaking his head and chuckling.
"We tried to tell ya!" Harley managed between gasps for air.
Dick considered just staying on the ground: maybe if he waited long enough, it would eventually swallow him up.
He made sure to stay at the back of the congregation as they began to walk further into the jungle.
Harley and Boomerang had become engaged in a conversation about unicorns at one point, but it was clear that he wasn't allowed to be a part of it. He'd spoken up exactly once, mentioning this purple one with wings that he'd seen on TV before, but they just threw him a funny look that quite plainly said they didn't want him around for now. The others got to pitch in no problem, also occasionally making a snide remark about his intelligence or lack of spine.
Which was fair, he supposed. In their eyes, he was the snitch that they'd have to put up with for now. It just smarted that he'd been relegated to verbal punching bag when it was barely a day in.
That being said, one member did hover close to him for the whole trek; unfortunately, it was the only one who couldn't do much of anything besides make the odd squawking sound at every few trees they passed.
Weasel had taken to pattering along just a foot behind him, adjusting its pace and direction to match his. He'd even run a few small experiments every so often, shifting to the left or right, or speeding up and slowing down to see whether it would copy him. It did.
He sure hoped it was a sign of affection rather than it latching onto its newest prey.
It was probably somewhere in the early hours of the morning by the time they stopped in a small clearing full of dead leaves and a few bushes.
"We'll stop here for the remainder of the night." Flag said, kneeling down. "Get as much sleep as you can, this surface seems soft enough."
He threw a pointed look at Mongal. "Remember what I said earlier."
"Yes, Colonel" she said rather sullenly.
Dick made sure to lie as far away from her as possible, his back against a tree so no-one could stick a blade in it.
Savant turned around and let himself fall to the ground without a word. Harley plopped herself down on the ground, unfolding the empty bag she'd brought her rocket launcher in and using it a pillow. "'Night, guys!"
"'Night, Harls."
"Guten Nacht, Frau Quinn."
"Aw, you smooth talker, you!"
"Get to sleep, Javelin" Flag muttered, his face slightly visible amongst the shadows. If Dick didn't know any better, he'd have said he looked almost jealous about something. He had no clue as to what though; if his money hadn't been confiscated by the government long ago, he would have bet that the abs on the guy's costume were fake.
"Yeah…uh, night, fellas." Dick said blankly.
No response.
Oh, well.
At a guess, an hour passed before the heat, humidity and itchiness became too much for Dick to just lie still anymore.
Turning onto his side to face TDK's still form, he couldn't help but feel a little exposed. They were essentially in the middle of nowhere, true, but the military would likely be hot on their tail given the absence of any dead bodies back on the beach that weren't theirs.
Though, given his little stunt, it could have turned out quite differently.
Back in his enforcer days, the 1,000 only really paid him to rough people up; they had assassins for when it came to the killing. Not that he wouldn't take a human life if pressed, it was just that when he committed a crime, it tended to make everything a lot easier if you tried to avoid any casualties.
Did he feel guilty about what he'd done back there? Maybe a little. There'd been a lot of soldiers on that beach. If he'd been killed and the whole team went with him, whoever was out there in the great unknown would likely have a few choice words. But it wasn't like he could have disobeyed Waller.
…well, he could have, but he doubted he'd have been allowed to keep living for much longer afterwards. She'd probably just have someone else do him in, maybe Savant. Or get Harley to drizzle him in barbecue sauce and throw him into a pen with Weasel.
It would have been the nobler thing to do, yeah. But nobility didn't pay the bills and it wasn't like he knew there'd be half the population of a city ready to turn them into Swiss cheese.
He didn't have much time to dwell on his moral situation anyway, as something suddenly wrapped itself around his lower leg.
Shit, a snake.
He could deal with snakes, right? Just as long as it wasn't one of those ones that could eat sheep. Did Corto Maltese even have sheep?
Moving his head slowly so as not to startle it, he risked a look at the thin, winding… brown… fuzzy…
Aw, no.
Weasel was almost hugging him from behind, purring slightly. He turned to face it, just in time for it to lick the side of his face.
He sure was glad he wasn't a kid right about now.
He jerked his shoulder slightly and shook his affected leg. It didn't get the hint.
Did he dare ask his teammates for help and further embarrass himself? That was if he even got the chance to open his mouth before they finally snapped and killed him for waking them back up.
Except for Boomerang, it seemed, who was lying a few metres away and looking straight at him with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Help, Dick mouthed.
The Aussie simply leaned back, not losing the smile. A simple shake of his head and the closing of his eyes made it clear that Dick was on his own.
He briefly wondered whether the unspoken contract of owing someone your life could be rendered null and void if the aforementioned someone was a big enough asshole. Dick knew that in terms of honour, he should be the last one to judge, but leaving a comrade pinned down by an animal close enough to deliver an impromptu prostate exam definitely wasn't something a good squad mate did.
A fact yet undiscovered by Belle Reve psychiatrists is that once you're friends with Weasel, you're friends for life. Unless you happen to have a particularly edible head.
Boomerang is always a fun one to write.