Chapter Seven

"I never was a child, I was pulled right out of the sea and the salt, it never left my body."

On the corner of Paris and Waddell Street, in the Broadscares district of Athens Georgia, sat a warehouse. During the daylight hours it looked like any other warehouse; Arley, Superboy and Dubbilex though, weren't there because it was any other warehouse.

It was where the Light was pushing their earlier forms of the Blockbuster formula. By day the drug would be made, and by night— because it wasn't like coke, it wasn't something a dealer could just sell in some bar's bathroom —they would sell it.

It was also a warehouse where, apparently, dog fights would happen. Because as Lights escapees sat in the stolen carolya they all observed several men with snarling dogs enter the warehouse, and loads more follow them in.

Each of the dogs were bigger than the next and each of the men who entered the warehouse looked sleazier than the one before them.

"I've spotted two different gangs go in there," Arley said once people had stopped going in. She placed the binoculars she lifted from a Dicks Sporting Good down, between both herself and Superboy.

"Are we counting bikers?"

"Yes we are," Arley nodded. She had a knife in each of her boots, handguns strapped to each of her thighs— Sig Sauer P365's —a Glock G43 tucked into the back of her waistband and in the backseat, next to Dubbilex, a sawed off shotgun, and an M4 she had jimmied back in Rhode Island, so that it was full-auto instead of just semi.

"If we kill gang leaders we'll have more than just the Light after us," Dubbilex observed leaning forward so that he could stick his horned head between the seats.

"Out of the three of us I'm the only one that exists on paper," Arley shrugged in a way that told the other two occupants of the car that she didn't care. It wasn't like she had any civilian loved ones a gang could go after; after three years in the Lights captivity she didn't even have any superhero loved ones left.

"True but afterwards, once we defeat the Light—"

"—I'll be the girl that killed Vandal Savage, somehow I think that'll be enough to deter even the most stubborn of gangbangers," Arley cut Dubbilex off. She had her hand out and with a flash of his horns her guns were in her lap.

"Superboy you take out any Blockbusters, Dubbilex help him if there's more than one."

"If there's not?"

"You're with me on search and destroy." Search and destroy simply being the mission of what would probably be Athens, Georgia's largest mass murder. Massacre?

She and Dubbilex would search out any and all Blockbuster-lite on the premises and destroy it, and everyone in the warehouse. It wasn't just to cut off their supply chain but to make a statement; someone was coming after the Light and there was seldom they wouldn't on their mission to bring the Light down.

Arley blinked at the technicalities. Once upon a time she would have cared more; back when she'd been a Lantern— a real one, with a working ring and everything —she would have been hung up on killing someone, no matter how terrible they were.

She used to have nightmares about killing a warlord; a man who had let his people starve and who had been about to kill her and Guy and Hal. Ever since she woke up in the Lights clutches though, her nightmares were more centered around a man in a hockey mask and a billion year old Neanderthal.

Arley doubted after three years in captivity there was little else she could ever have a nightmare about. She'd only thought twice about the guards she'd killed in Boston, and not even once about the man Dubbilex had left in a coma.

And perhaps that was more because they worked for Cadmus— for the Light —but Arley doubted she'd have second thoughts about any of the men in the warehouse. She doubted their faces would haunt her the way they once would have, if only because she could still feel Sportsmaster's hot breath against her ear as he used his favorite hunting knife to cut into her.

Killing the men who helped fund the Light— helped pay Sportsmaster to torture her —only felt fair. Even if they didn't really know what exactly their money was going to it wasn't like they thought the money was being funneled into the education system. They knew who they were helping out. It also wasn't, after all, like they were upstanding citizens and everyone short of those— short of the people she was protecting by taking on the Light —were fair game.

Gangbangers, dealers, everyone from low level super villains to the accountants who handled Cadmus' and the Lights books, washing the money for them were fair game. At least, they were for as long as Arley could still feel her knee being broken over and over in the back of her mind.

At least until she could no longer hear Sportsmaster playing the Joker's incessant laughter on repeat as he cut her mouth open.

"Come on," Arley said, looping the M4's strap over her head and grabbing the shotgun with the other, "Let's do this."

Superboy was out of the car next, Dubbilex behind them. His hood was up and his dead was down, not that it mattered because the guards at the door saw Arley just as soon as she saw them. The pair went to raise their guns only for Dubbilex's horns to flow red and for the men's head to snap quickly and far enough to the right that they dropped like logs to the concrete ground.

"There's a man to the right of the door. He's the closest," Dubbilex said. "There's a slight problem though."

Arley felt ice roll through her veins; "What kind of problem?"

"There's only one human blockbuster. A woman; she'll be on the catwalk-the other's in there are animals."

"What-what do you mean animals?" Arley blinked.

"The dogs in there are fighting, they've been given the serum as well. It appears they're using the dog fights to show that the formula can do." Oh. That was a problem.

"How many dogs are left?" The last of the people had gone in a while ago; criminals— at least the seedy, surface level criminals who committed your everyday crimes —weren't masterminds. They seldom had the patience of saints.

"Four," Dubbilex said. "Two in cages, two in the ring." Well, Arley supposed, four genetically modified killer k-9s were better than the ten that had been dragged in there.

"Alright then. On three."

Arley could hear the EDM music blaring from the outside when she, Superboy and Dubbilex all got to it.

"One." Arley pumped the shotgun once.

"Two." She nodded.

"Three." Superboy kicked in the steel door; Arley stepped forward and turned; blood sprayed across her face as the man she shot flew back and hit the wall.

He'd bounced before he dropped; snarling dogs could be heard. Superboy sprung forward, he couldn't fly but he could leap buildings in a single bound so the jump to the catwalk where a red headed woman in a robe and tight jeans was, was nothing to him.

Arley reloaded the shotgun and Dubbilex's horns flashed. Two armed guards whose guns had been pointed at Arley heads snapped just like the ones outside the warehouse had; they too dropped. Arley fired at the crowd of bangers and dog fighters.

Most of them dove, hitting the ground in order to avoid the spray if buckshot.

Three weren't so lucky and the feral dogs that had been in the ring didn't pause as Arley used the sawed off shaft of the gun to beat a man who'd try to run up at her. Nor did they pause when Arley pulled the M4 around; it was almost like Capon and Saint Valentine's day.

Superboy threw the Blockbuster woman off the catwalk and jumped; he landed with both feet, hard on her abdomen.

No one was lined up but for the most part, people were on the ground; with so many different gangs being present and with the Light needing to keep a low profile, most of them must not have had weapons on themselves. Or at least, most of them must not have had any guns on them; Arley was sure they all had some kind of close range weaponry though.

But that didn't stop her; not like it would have three years ago. Dubbilex's horns glowed red once more and something exploded over the sound of automatic gunfire. Nothing large enough to shake the warehouse's foundation but the smell of smoke began to waft through the air.

The woman Superboy had been fighting rose into the air as Dubbilex's hand lifted. She screamed as Dubbilex invaded her mind. It was a loud shriek that'd come from the back of her throat. In all the years he'd been around Dubbilex had learned how to make rooting around someone's brain hurt.

"Her name is Shimmer. She's a lieutenant." Not exactly a leader but someone high enough to tell them they were on the right track.

"We need exact locations. The Light has a dozen and a half bases, we need the ones that matter." The ones where people like Sportsmaster would be found.

"She only knows of one."

"Oh?"

"It's in Ohio. It-it's where they got the material to bind the genomorph DNA." Arley blinked; men and women who were still alive groaned at her feet. The dogs in the ring had stopped fighting; one of them was dead and the smoke from the explosion Dubbilex had caused began to grow thicker.

"Arley!" Superboy called out, he'd ended up by the cages, "What do I do about the dogs in the crates!"

Correction, Arley wanted to point out, they weren't dogs. They were feral dogs . Once a dog tasted blood— whenever cops wound up on a dog fighting ring —the dog was usually put down because they were too dangerous to rehome. Perfectly good dogs that were abused and warped until they had to be put down. Until they were nothing more than mirrors of their monstrous owners.

The guns felt heavy around Arley's neck.

"Let them out," Arley said, "If they attack though, put them down." She then turned to Dubbilex, "Who's in charge of the faculty?" Why did the woman— who was all the way in Georgia —know about it?

"What?" Superboy's face fell. Arley paused and looked away from the Light memeber and Dubbilex.

"Superboy, there's families in this area a few blocks away, we're not staying to babysit super powered fighting dogs until animal control can get a handle on them-if we do that we're dead and you're back in a pod!" Superboy's face seemed to both crumble and harden at Arley's words. The truth tended to hurt and whilst Arley didn't want to hurt Superboy she couldn't coddle him.

Not with their lives at stake and while that sucked it was what had to be done. Lanterns always did what had to be done; even it wasn't the best option they always chose the right one, and Arley, even though she wasn't sure of she would ever be a Green Lantern again, knew she— that they —didn't have the time for niceties.

First resonders would show up quickly whenever someone reported about the smoke billowing out of the windows and soon the Light would follow when the alarms were raised about their warehouse.

She then turned back once more to the g-goblin.

"Do you have a name yet?"

"Simon?"

Arley felt her face smooth out and the simmering fury inside of herself ignite. That first day in captivity hadn't been the only time Psimon had tried to break through her mental defenses. There had been stretches of time— hours that melded into days and days that had turned to weeks —where Sportsmaster and Psimon would work in tandem in hopes of tearing down her mental defenses so that the Light could get a leg up on the Corps.

"She works under Psimon?" Superboy grunted. A dog yelped; Arley didn't look.

"Sort of. She belongs to the Cult of Cobra, her twin was used for testing. They keep him at the base Psimon is in control of, he was going to be a new genetic donner." Desmond's last words flashed through Arley's mind; the whole reason she was out and about and not in some seedy incinerator. "They want to see what his DNA can do when mixed with the base formula used to create genomorphs."

"Oh," Arley said. She licked her lips. The smoke was thicker now; it was begging to filter out of the windows, it wouldn't be long until someone called the emergency services. They had to move quickly; "Bring her down."

Dubbilex didn't hesitate to do what Arley said. The woman— Shimmer —eyed Arley wearily. Blood coated her lips. "She's indestructible right?"

"Nearly. She's like you; super-human." Arley had never been super-anything before; she'd been an intergalactic soldier before— not a superhero like Wally or Wonder Woman —and was nothing more than an enhanced Kill Bill character now.

To call her— or Shimmer —human didn't seem right. Shimmer wasn't human; no one who worked with the Light could call themselves that. It took a certain breed of monster to do that. To call Arley human didn't seem right either because she wasn't so sure what she was anymore.

She wasn't evil. Wasn't foaming at the mouth for blood— Arley knew she wouldn't hurt an innocent person —but human beings didn't shoot other people at point blank range when they were already on their stomachs.

Then again, the people she'd shot at point blank range thought genetically enhanced dog fighting was entertainment. So could they really be called people, themselves?

"You're only indestructible on the outside. Hey Shimmer," Arley said. She grabbed the knife that'd been in her left boot and stepped closer to the henchwoman. She grabbed the redhead's face the same way Sportsmaster had once done to her. "No hard feelings or anything, but I need you alive to send Light a message."

"And what's that?" Shimmer asked, her voice small and wavering with every word. The pain she'd felt when Dubbilex had ripped through her mind hadn't yet faded; that or she was truly terrified of Arley and what she was about to do.

Maybe it was both.

"When you're all fixed up and able to speak, I want you to tell Savage that I'm coming for him. And I'm not going to stop, I don't care how long it takes me or what I have to do to get to him. He's dead."

"You can't kill Vandal Savage, he's-he's a god amongst men."

"Call me the Godkiller than, because I'm going to have his fucking head on my wall." And then, the same way she'd been, Arley cut the henchwoman. She put the end of her blade in Shimmer's mouth and sliced; Shimmer let out a howl as Arley used the blade to tear into her face.

When she was done and her hands were bloody and Shimmer had passed out from the combination of pain she'd experienced in such a short amount of time Arley turned to see Superboy and one of the dogs standing by his side.

Superboy only looked slightly phased. Dubbilex didn't spare the woman a second glance, he simply raised his hairless brow bone at Superboy.

"Can we keep him?" The dog was huge; twice the size of any German Shepard Arley had ever seen and all white.

"He's not going to tear our throats out in our sleep, is he?" Superboy shook his head at the same time he shrugged.

"Right," Arley clicked, "Whatever, as long as he fits in the car, sure. We have to go-also," Arley paused and leveled Superboy with a look, "If he tries to kill us, you're putting him down. Got it?"

Superboy shot Arley a dry look, "He's not going to try to kill us."

"Right," she scoffed, speed walking out of the smoking wearhouse, "Just, Dubbilex, wipe everything except the message. We don't need the Light knowing our next move."

Dubbilex's horns glowed red; Shimmer, though passed out, twitched as Dubbilex once more entered her mind. When the job was done not even thirty seconds later, the g-goblins horns had died back down in color.

"Alright, now, come on."

…

Wally had puked outside the warehouse. He and the boys— and the League; Hal and Guy, Bats and Barry, Oliver and Aquaman along with —had shown up in Athens, Georgia after police had not only arrested Shimmer, a memeber of the terrorist organization, Cult of Kobra but had taken her to the hospital for extreme smoke inhalation and level three trauma to the face and brain.

Arley had done that.

Thirty one people were dead; four were in critical condition and Shimmer, though not in a vegetated state like the scientist in Boston, would never speak again; Arley had ended up mutilating the cultists tongue so badly when she'd cut her, it'd need to be surgically removed.

Nothing was off the table, not to Arley. Not after what she'd been through and as much as Wally hated it, he got it. And he hated that it got it because he knew it was wrong. What had been done was so far past okay it wasn't even in the realm of justifiable— thirty one people hadn't been armed, Shimmer could have been incapacitated not mutilated —and yet Wally got it.

Because every time he thought about finding Sportsmaster or Savage before Arley the only thing he thought about was how much time he'd have before everyone else came rushing through the door behind him. All he ever thought about since finding out what had happened to Arley was what he could do to them in those few moments.

What he would do.

"Are you okay?" Dick asked outside the Athens ICU; they were suited up and everyone both inside the hospital and outside, going into it, was looking at them. Back when they'd all been kids people would watch from afar, heroes weren't as known back then. They were something to marvel at, something to be kept an arms length away; now as Wally looked up at the sky, trying not to burst out into tears— sad, angry tears; tears of frustration —he could hear the whispers of passers by arguing between one another on if they should go up to them to get their autograph despite the heavy atmosphere that surrounded him and Dick.

All Wally could picture was Arley, dirty and strung up in some underground layer, her mouth in much worse shape than Shimmers.

"Oh god I'm going to be sick again," Wally bemoaned as pressed his fist against his lips. Arley could speak, Manhunter had told them that— how else would she have been able to pass her message onto the cultists —but her words slurred ever so slightly.

Her tongue had been damaged when Sportsmaster had cut her, just not to the extent Shimmers had. But that wasn't surprising; it wasn't like Arley had the same finesse Sportsmaster had when it came to torture. She didn't have the same experience as Sportsmaster. Arley was only doing all of this because she felt alone; she didn't know she could trust them.

It was why she hadn't come home; why she hadn't come back to him. The Light had convinced her that not even he could be trusted, but Wally knew— he could feel it in his bones —even if he was a clone— a sleeper agent —he'd love her enough to protect her no matter what.

Wally knew it was written in his genetic code; his love for Arley wasn't superficial, it was eternal. No matter where he went— no matter what life he lived or didn't —Wally knew his heart would always be hers.

She had known that too at one point, and the Light had convinced her otherwise.

"Kid," Dick said, "Just breathe okay? In through the nose, out through the mouth."

"I know. I know-I just, she's out there and we're here. Nightwing, what if we never catch up to her?" Wally wondered.

"Don't think like that, we're going to find her." Wally nodded. They had to find Arley; Wally wasn't sure what he'd do with himself if he spent the rest of his life with her constantly slipping through his fingers.

Go crazy probably.

"Hey," Dick said, his thumb rubbing Wally's shoulder, "Manhunter and the others are going to stay here, see everything they can get out of Shimmer and the others but Bats wants you, me, Red and Kal to search the area."

Wally blinked, "He thinks Arley's still in the area?"

"Canary's been going over CV footage and the cops managed to track down the car used to get to the warehouse but there hasn't been any reported car thefts yet. So unless Arley and the other two hitched a ride or got on public transport—" both very unlikely possibilities, "—She's in the area."

Wally felt his heart swell in his chest; Arley, she was so close. Wally felt his fingers tremble as he curled them into fists at his fists.

"Where do we start!"

…

Arley was tired. Both physically— because the short naps she'd been taking in order to avoid falling into a deep enough sleep for a nightmare to take hold weren't really helping her —and emotionally.

Arley was sound in her resolve; she didn't regret what she'd done to the Light lieutenant or the criminals back at the warehouse. At least, she didn't really regret it.

She knew the old her would have never. She knew the girl from years ago— the one who used to sling a ring; the one who had died in that D.C cell —would be disgusted in what she had done to the armless men on their stomachs and revolted in what she'd had done to Shimmer.

But she wasn't her anymore. She could never be; that girl again because that girl had always done what was right. Not what was good but right; this girl— the one she was now, the one she had become —was just concerned with surviving. With never again finding herself in a tiny cell, somewhere, hundreds of feet below ground.

With only ending the Light.

As she waited in line to be called next, Arley stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of the sweatshirt she and Superboy were sharing. He didn't get cold but liked the aesthetic of the black sweatshirt and Arley, a normal— abet, slightly enhanced —individual didn't seem to get cold anymore. At least not the way she used to.

The Glock was still tucked into the back of her pants, pressed up against the small of her back and her knives were still tucked into her boots.

"Next." Arley stepped forward, she nodded at the pimply faced Batburger employee. "Uh-um," the Cashier blinked. Arley lowered her head. "Sor-er. Hello, welcome to Batburger. How can I help you this evening?"

"Hi," Arley said. "Can I get two twenty piece nuggets, and three Two Face sandwiches? Extra cheese on one of them please."

"Vegan cheese or regular?"

"Regular. Please." Arley said, slightly confused on the question. The Two Face sandwich wasn't a vegan option so why ask for vegan cheese on it?

"Alright. That'll be twenty three fifty-five." The cashier said as he printed a receipt. Arley handed him over twenty six dollars and pocketed both the change the receipt quietly, only giving the teen a head nod in acknowledgement.

When she'd gone out for food both Superboy and Dubbilex had told her they'd trusted her judgment in what to get them; Superboy was only really concerned in what his new friend would eat.

Wolf.

Superboy had named the large all white dog Wolf; it was twice the size of a normal German shepherd and unlike the other dogs from the warehouse, had not yet been in any dog fights. That night was supposed to be its first time in the ring.

Or at least that's what Dubbilex had said; apparently his telepathic abilities didn't stop at humans and instead extended to nearly anything with a complex enough neurological system.

"Order zero-sixty." A heavy— obviously homeless —man in sweatpants and a superman t-shirt and a torn up puffer jacket approached the counter.

A group of you men— young college aged kids who reeked of their father's money —who had seated themselves in a booth that was too tiny for their group snickered loudly in the man's direction. The man was dirty, he walked with a limp and his shoulders were hunched forward. Like he was trying to make himself smaller than he actually was; like he was scared.

Arley tracked the man's movements, she watched as he went to sit in the corner of the fast food restaurant. He looked around the room and shrunk when he saw nearly all eyes that could be looking at him, were in fact watching him.

Though the young men jeered at one another too quietly for Arley to understand exactly what they were saying, Arley didn't need to hear their exact conversation to know none of them were up to any good.

One of the young men— the one with dark curls and a cleft chin —kept bouncing up and down in his seat, looking back at the homeless man.

Like he couldn't wait for something. He looked more like a lion in the colosseum than a someone in a Bat Burger.

"Order zero-six-one." Arley walked forward to the counter, the young man with the cleft chin got up.

"Thanks," Arley murmured to the overnight worker and paused as she turned. The curly haired man was standing over the homeless man.

"Don't you think you're a little too fat for this sandwich?" The young man asked snidely.

"M just trying to eat," the homeless man said, "Leave me alone. I ain't bothering no one."

"It's I'm not bothering anyone and I don't know, the smell that followed you in is fucking annoying." Arley looked back at the worker who started hard at the incident only to sigh and turn around, going back into the kitchen. He muttered something about not being paid enough.

"Man just let me eat." The homeless man begged; he sounded as tired as Arley felt.

"You mean this? You want to eat this?" And then the young man hit the foot out of the older man's hands; the sandwich ended up on the floor.

"YO!" The homeless man cried. He didn't stand though; he just looked at his food on the floor.

Arley however kept her eyes trained on the young man who was howling with just laughter.

His friends were no different; like him the group was cackling at the homeless man's misfortune.

The man moved to pick up his food off the floor only for the man with dark curls to step on the burger and the bottom bun.

"Shit sorry man," he snickered.

Arley moved. Without even thinking about she moved towards the young man; the same tightly wound ball in her chest that would beat feverishly against her rib cage back when she would sling a ring hammered inside of her with every step she took.

With her food in one hand Arley moved so that she was standing behind the young man. That was where grabbed the back of the dark haired mans head and brought it down onto the corner of the table, hard.

"Fuck! What the fuck!" The young man cried. His head went to jerk forward only for Arley to keep a vice on the tendrils.

The young man's friends got to their feet but didn't approach.

"Oops," she said in a monotone tone of voice, "Shit man. Sorry." She then used the toe of her foot to kick the back of the young man's knee, dropping him to his knees with a groan.

Arleys hand left his hair and her forearm wrapped around his throat. "You fucks are going to give this man your food. You're going to leave and you're never going to be dicks again because if you are, I'll find you and I'll shoot each and everyone one of you in the dicks with the gun I always keep on me. Like I originally wanted to do. Understand me?"

"What!" The young man cried.

Arley brought his face down against the table again, this time harder. Blood stained the edge of the plastic table; the young man let out a whimper.

The workers had begun to gather at the counter. All of them looked at Arley with wide eyes and shocked expressions; like they couldn't believe what was going on in front of them.

Aliens and immortal Neanderthals were fine. Killer clowns were commonplace. But God forbid someone stood up to a bully in a fast food place.

Arley rolled her eyes.

"Say sorry to the guy who's food you ruined."

"I—" the young man whose hair Arley had a vice grip on whimpered. "I'm sorry. I-I'm sorry I ruined your food man."

The homeless man looked at the young man and then at Arley. His eyes narrowed for half a second as he looked at her— a spark ignited behind them —before he looked back at the young man.

"It's fine man, just don't do it again."

"He won't!" One of the young man's friends said.

"Go buy him more food than. Anything he wants. You all look like you can afford it." The blonde of the group, a lanky straw haired young man, jumped away from the table nodding.

Slowly the homeless man got up and nodded at Arley, he shot grateful look— a nod —on his at her as he managed to his feet and moved to the Bat Burgers counter.

Arley released the young man who wilted at her feet and then looked at the wide eyed workers who still, all stood behind the counter.

"Don't call the fucking cops. Got it?"

"Alright!" A squeaky voiced woman— the manager; she wasn't dressed in the same five dollar Party City Batman cowl that the other employees were all donning —said.

Arley pressed her lips together. They'd call. She wasn't an idiot, but she wasn't going to shoot some underpaid employee in the face so that she could prove she wasn't messing around either.

She wasn't monstrous. At least— Shimmers mutilated face flashed through Arleys mind —not completely.

"Thanks for the food," she said to the storm of employees. Arley didn't look back as she rushed out of the chain restaurant; not when she had to get back to the motel and collect Superboy and Dubbilex— and Wolf —so that they could get the hell out of dodge.

Fuck, Arley swore to herself as she sucked into an alleyway. Fuckfuckfuck.

Dumbass .

…

They had a lead.

Arley— or at least who they all believed to be Arley; one of the witnesses was sure it had been the Girl Lanternas, apparently, Arley had saved their life once before—was last seen at a Bat Burger. She'd beaten a college student for messing with a homeless man but she hadn't killed anyone.

And, if he were being honest, Wally was proud of Arley. She'd stepped in for the little guy, she'd played the part of hero.

The girl he knew— the one he loved; the girl he had never stopped loving —was still in there.

"Okay," Dick said, several feet from the police who'd showed up to deal with the incident Arley had— technically —caused, "We know Arley and the clones have been using the sewers to get around the cities they stay in so Kal and Kid, I want you two down there."

"What? Wing I should be up here—"

"—Flash," Dick said in a no nonsense kind of voice, "You can clear the sewers faster than the rest of us can and like I said, Arley, Superboy, the goblin thing with them, they've been using the underground to get around. There's a strong possibility she's down there."

Wally pressed his lips together. "Fine, okay." Wally nodded.

"Red?" The archers back straightened; "You and I are going to travel via rooftop. If any of them aren't in the sewers we'll be able to spot them in the street. The cops say Arley took off south. She was alone so she's going to have to meet the others too."

"Got it," Roy nodded. His face was stony and behind his mask Wally couldn't see his eyes but he could assume they were bright and eager just like Kaldur's we're; just like Wally assumed Dicks were.

"Right," Kaldur said, a ghost of a smile on his face, "Let's bring our friend home." Wally could feel the excited vibrations roll through him.

Arley, he thought, I'm coming.

…

Neither Superboy nor Dubbilex were mad at her. She had explained she'd just acted, someone had needed help and she hadn't thought of them or herself— hadn't thought of the Light —but instead only of helping the poor man.

And somehow that made everything just a little worse because the Light had to have heard about Shimmer and their warehouse by now which meant they were in the city, which meant when the Bat Burger employees called the cops the Light would know they were still in Athens.

Arley had practically put Superboy back in that cryopod herself and he wasn't even mad because, "How could I be? You did what heroes are supposed to."

The three of them and Wolf were on the street looking for an old but reliable enough looking car to steal so they could get back to being on the move.

It also had to be big enough; Arley eyed the jeep at the end of the block. It was an early two-thousands model with rust by the wheels and no discernable markings. She knocked her elbow against Dubbilex's.

"One o'clock, white jeep." Superboy hummed his eyes flickered down the street as he turned his head down.

"I see it," the g-Goblin nodded. Arley went to open her mouth only for whatever she was going to say to get caught in her throat when she saw him.

Roy Harper.

He was on the roof of the building in front of her. He looked older than she could remember. His shoulders were broader and his hair had somewhat grown out but what really caught Arley's attention was the fact that Roy Harper was aiming his notched arrow right at her.

Arley lunged; Roy fired the arrow just as Arley pushed Dubbilex to the ground. The arrow narrowly missed where she had been standing and instead embedded itself into the cement that held the bricks of the apartment building they were outside of.

Arley's heart had leapt to her throat and hammered loudly in her ears.

"Dubbilex! Arley!" Superboy moved to shield them; Wolf let out a loud growl.

Roy had shot at them.

Roy, the boy she had always bickered with. The one who she had always gone to when Wally did something dumb and she had needed someone to vent to.

The boy who played big brother so well when they weren't arguing it was easy to forget he wasn't actually, Arleys older brother.

Roy was quick to temper, he was prideful and arrogant but he was also loyal. He wouldn't just shoot her because she'd started a war against the Light and she'd crossed a few lines; not even— and especially after their last day together —if Oliver had told him to do so.

Vandal Savage floated through the forefront of Arley's mind; she could practically hear gloating about how he had people in the League.

About why he had needed her. Why she was still alive.

Grief rocked through Arley. Anger that had been boiling deep in her stomach ever since getting free of Cadmus erupted from deep inside of her.

"Get the jeep ready, Dubbilex get me up there," Arley ordered as she got to her feet. She grabbed the Glock from the back of her pants.

"What?"

"You're not going alone!" Superboy snapped.

"This isn't up for debate Superboy," Roy notched another arrow, "Look we need a ride. Cover Dubbilex and trust me. Now get me up there!"

And before Superboy could continue to argue, Arley was flying.

She landed on the rooftop with a roll; Roy— the thing wearing Roy's face —was quick to swivel away from Superboy and Dubbilex so that he could keep her at the wrong end of his arrow.

So it was her; the Light had ordered her to be taken out first. Arley understood of course, Dubbilex and Superboy had never been out in the real world, she was their lifeline out here because for all the knowledge Cadmus poured into the two genomorphs it was Arley who knew how to pickpocket and survive under the radar on the streets.

Arley raised her arm; the gun pointed at not-Roy. He didn't notch another arrow and instead held his bow out in front of himself.

"I guess Shimmer delivered my message," Arley said. Not-Roy lunged; Canary had taught them to set the rules of battle and while usually that meant moving first— corralling your enemy to where you wanted —Arley had a plan.

It was why she allowed not-Roy to push her back. She kept the gun in her hands as she dodged every swing of not-Roy's bow and allowed the Light's sleeper agent to back her up to the edge of the building.

Fight smart— Arley when she felt her calves hit the rooftops edge, lunged forward —not hard.

With her free hand she grabbed the not-Roys suit collar and slid her left foot back, behind his. With her left leg, Arley spun them. Her gun pressed against his abdomen right above his heart.

They were face to face and though he was wearing a mask Arley knew there was no light in his eyes. That the young man she had a gun to wasn't her friend. He was just the Light's means to an end.

Her end.

And yet she couldn't pull the trigger.

Because it was still her friend's face. Not-Roy dropped his bow and struck Arley cross the face; she didn't let go though, and instead moved the muzzle of the Glock to rest under his chin.

His hand froze mid-air. He couldn't complete a mission dead.

"You won't do it," not-Roy whispered. "It's why Savage has sent us after you and those abominations."

"Us?"

"The Light reached everywhere. There is nowhere it doesn't touch." Wally. Her boy.

Arley pictured him in a pod much like the one Superboy had been in. She imagined him being pushed into an incinerator; had he hoped she'd come for him as much has she had imagined him coming for her?

Arley felt her lip quiver.

He hadn't abandoned her.

Us.

None of the boys had.

A fire— hotter than the one that had been burning inside of herself since escaping Cadmus —erupted inside Arley's chest.

Savage had them.

Fight smart not hard and you might live to see another day White Circle.

But smart hurt. Smart felt like her heart was in a vice grip as she stared at the cool face of a boy she knew. Didn't know?

Arley thought of the cell she'd unwelcomingly had made home over the past three years. She thought of the incinerator Cadmus Labs' had.

She thought of Wally's laughter.

"Maybe so." At the sound of a truck coming to life, Arley's gun dropped from not-Roy's chin to the left side of his abdomen. She pulled the trigger twice and not-Roy jolted against her. "But like I told Shimmer Savage's days are numbered. And so are yours clone-boy."

And then she threw him; not off the building but behind her so that she could— with Dubbilex hanging half out the window of the truck they were commandeering —leap off the side of it.

Notes: First and foremost: THANK YOU!!! To my favorite guest and GirlNextDoor, thank you two for the comments you left because they've really been making my day and helping me get through writing the next chapter!

Second off! What did we think? Roy is of course a clone and just Arleys luck he's the one to have first contact with her! Anyway, let me know all your thoughts in the comments down below!