AN: I'm warning you. This chapter might be more than a bit depressing. We are catching up with Artemis so that was sadly to be expected.
17. Snake
Ever since Wally's death, Artemis felt like she could barely breathe. There was constant rage cursing through her body, clouding her head. Wally's funeral was small as only his closest circle came together on a Central City graveyard. His parents, the original Team and the Leaguers who had been closest to Wally.
No other friends. Artemis noted with sadness. Wally had poured most of his life into the team after school. Probably to an extent that it had become unhealthy. Wally must have recognized that factoring into his decision to retire.
The rage filled Artemis' head even now when the pastor read his last rites next to what would be Wally's grave. Wally should have been safe. He had been out. He had only come back to save Nightwing – or Talon or Dick or whatever his stupid name was. Artemis was pretty sure now that he had taken the name inspired by the Kryptonian legend to suck up to Superman.
It would fit this deceiver. This traitor. This snake who had slithered into their lives and left devastation in his wake.
Artemis watched as the casket was lowered into the ground. Closed to spare them the view of Wally's mutilated body. She looked around. M'Gann was crying. Conner looked like he could barely hold back tears himself. Kaldur looked numb, his face not betraying any emotion.
Artemis recognized that he was putting on a brave face. It was like Kaldur. He always put on a brave face because he was under the assumption that leaders couldn't show emotion. Artemis wished he would allow himself to break for once – which might be hypocritical because Artemis didn't allow herself to break either. She had to keep it together.
Artemis froze when she heard a loud sob. Even louder than M'Gann's. They all knew who it was. Barry Allen had covered his face in his hands as he broke down into tears. Iris held his arm trying her best to console him while tears streamed down her own face.
"It's my fault", Barry muttered, "I brought him into this world."
"That's not true", Iris said, "You kept him as safe as you could have. It wasn't this world that killed Wally but someone he loved."
Barry's sobs only became louder: "I should have known that there was something wrong with Nightwing."
"We both should have", Iris said, "We invited him into our home."
"We did", Barry's voice sounded hollow.
Artemis couldn't stand this anymore. The rage was overwhelming her, and Artemis suspected that the others saw it. M'Gann looked at Artemis, her gaze turning wistful. Artemis could feel a faint presence at the edge of her mind.
Artemis couldn't do this. She didn't want to see Wally's grave. She didn't want to witness her family breaking apart. She was sick of mourning. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to take action.
So, Artemis swung around and left the funeral. The priest hitched in his speech, but he continued when it became clear that Artemis wouldn't turn back.
Good. This stupid funeral wasn't doing Wally justice anyway.
'Artemis, please don't go', M'Gann's voice said in Artemis' head, 'I- I understand you are angry but I've been sensing that you are on a bad path-'
'Get out of my fucking head, M'Gann.'
'What is your plan, Artie?'
'Not your problem.'
'With all the rage you are feeling I'm worried that you want to kill him.'
'Would you stop me if I wanted to?'
M'Gann hesitated. Artemis could feel M'Gann's worry in her head as she passed the gates of the graveyard to the street.
'I think I would tear his mind apart if I saw him now', M'Gann's voice was quiet, simmering with barely restrained anger.
Artemis halted. M'Gann – sweet M'Gann – was hiding quite the rage. The telepath had torn a mind apart before. Psimon was still in a mental coma after M'Gann had been done with him.
'It's the least he deserves', Artemis said.
'I can't stop you. It's not my place. But you worked so hard for your redemption, Artemis. You can't throw it away for this traitor. He wins if you let him get to you.'
'Too late for that, M'Gann. He got to me the moment he killed my best friend. There was a time when Wally and I were together - when I assumed that we would spend a life together. It didn't work out, but I was sure we would still share a life as friends. I wish it had worked out now.'
'It's not your fault, Artemis.'
Artemis felt rage rise within her: 'I broke up with him. I told him he was still too immature for me. I gave that little snake the opening to slither into Wally's life.'
'It's not your fault', M'Gann reiterated, 'You know Wally better than anyone. You know that when Wally wants to love, he does with his whole being. He was happy this way.'
Artemis walked along the streets towards the Zeta-tube.
'Artemis, come back.'
'No. That snake took something that wasn't meant for him. He has to pay.'
'Art-'
Artemis entered the Zeta-tube, breaking off telepathic contact. She came out at the Mountain and beelined for Nightwing's room. No one had dared to enter it after he had betrayed them.
Artemis stomped inside. The room was bare. Just a bed, a wardrobe, and an almost-empty desk. Nothing on the walls. The bed untouched and neatly made. Of course. The traitor had spent most of his time in the training room or – Artemis shuddered – in Wally's room pretending to be some sweet, tortured soul. Wally had fallen for it so hard. They all had.
Artemis opened the wardrobe. Not much except a few spare Nightwing-costumes.
"You don't need them anymore, do you?", Artemis muttered to herself.
The traitor wore his true colour now – Deathstroke's orange. He had always worn orange on the inside. They just hadn't seen it.
A few shirts. Artemis frowned when she recognized them as Wally's. She scoffed and shoved the door shut again. The desk was next. It was bare except for a photo of the team. A day they had spent on the beach. Artemis felt sick when she recognized herself smiling and having an arm thrown around Nightwing's shoulder.
They had been so close. Artemis had let Nightwing see parts of herself she hadn't shown anyone else. Artemis didn't trust easily and having someone take her trust and spit it back into her face, it-
Artemis threw the photo onto the floor. She stomped on it, feeling satisfaction as the glass of the picture frame crunched under her boot.
Artemis ripped a drawer open. A single paper was in it. Something large and neatly folded. Artemis took it out and unfolded it. Her breath hitched when she saw that the paper was the size of a poster – a poster full of tally marks. One side was crowded, the tally marks tiny. The other had dozens of marks but was still clearly outnumbered. Nightwing's killed vs. saved count.
If Nightwing was still her friend, Artemis would be worried now. She would confront him and tell him that it wasn't healthy to be so obsessive about mapping out his past sins. She would ask him what was going on with him. She would encourage him to burn this paper and just keep saving people without the obsessive need to keep score.
But she knew now that Nightwing wasn't her friend. That his paper spoke of obsession – but not of the kind of obsession Artemis had assumed. Artemis had assumed him to be obsessed with guilt but, in reality, he had been obsessed with deceiving them. This room was perfectly staged like that of a remorseful killer. No sign of Nightwing's true intentions.
No. Artemis couldn't blame the Team, the League, herself for falling for this masterful manipulator. She would blame herself though if she let him get away with this.
Artemis continued searching the room. She found something taped to the underside of the bed. Court knives. Three of them. Artemis took them. Nightwing had hidden some in Wally's room. She wondered if there were more in Mount Justice. All hidden from Batman. For what purpose? To stab them in the back if the opportunity presented itself?
Artemis searched the whole Mountain, combing through all places where a killer would hide things. She ended up finding 10 Court knives.
Artemis glowered at the knives. They truly were perfectly balanced. Lethal. The perfect weapons to kill a Talon. Artemis pocketed them.
Then, she left a note on the kitchen counter. Her resignation from the Team. Conner and M'Gann were on their own now. It was an open question whether they would ascend to the League, effectively disbanding the Team or whether they would find new members. Artemis didn't care anymore. She was out on a new mission.
Artemis, Green Arrow's sidekick, was over now. It was her old persona. A name connected to the League, the Team - to being a hero. Artemis would keep this part of her life compartmentalized. It was a precious memory for her. Something she would cherish and leave behind as to not taint it with her new mission.
No. Tigress was on the hunt now. She would be independent and make her own calls outside of the rigid rules of the League. It was also a way for Artemis to honour her mother.
Paula had been active under many names – most prominently Huntress during her time with Sportsmaster. But there had been a time before Lawrence Crock when Paula had gone by another name: Tigress. Artemis would carry on her mother's legacy. Honour that part of Paula's life before Lawrence Crock had destroyed it.
Artemis left the Mountain. It was time for Nightwing to taste his own poison.
Jason gritted his teeth when another blow rained down on his back. The instructor screamed at Jason in Arabic probably telling Jason in not so nice terms to improve his shoddy katana-work. Jason suppressed a sigh. He attempted to attack Themis again. She easily dodged Jason's weak strike.
They were on the courtyard again – as they were every day. Jason's body wanted to fold in on itself after seven hours of training that had started before sunrise. Still, he knew that he would be dead if he showed this kind of weakness.
Jason was sure that they would be sent to the kitchen soon. He hoped so. His body couldn't take it anymore. Any move burned. Jason's garb stuck to his back probably because of the sweat and blood clinging to Jason's back. The beating had only bruised in the first few days. But after hundreds of brutal strikes, Jason's body had protested, and his bruises had broken open. They were re-opened every time the stick rained down on his back.
The instructor didn't seem to care. No. Jason could see the sadistic glint in his eyes as he rained the stick down. That glint was absent when he struck Themis or any of the other apprentices. With them, he was all business.
With Jason, it was something more. Jason didn't know what it was, but he was pretty sure that the instructor wanted Jason to die. Any excuse to slit Jason's throat, that bastard would take it.
A small voice in his head told Jason to just give up. Maybe contact Batman somehow- No not Batman. He wouldn't be able to take this humiliation. He could call Nightwing instead. The former assassin would drop everything to get Jason out of here. Big brother to the rescue.
The thought was enticing, especially after the instructor scolded Jason and rained down another blow. Not on his back this time. On his arm.
Jason couldn't withhold a groan as the wooden katana fell out of his hand. The other apprentices kept fighting with their partners. Pretending not to pay attention when they very much were. Jason knew what they were thinking. Jason was the next on the chopping block. It was nothing unusual. Jason had seen three apprentices killed ever since he had arrived here.
The first one who had been unable to keep up his yoga pose. The second one for collapsing from dehydration in the burning sun. The third one for peeling potatoes too slowly. The writing was on the wall for Jason if he didn't pick up that katana now. That sadistic glint was burning from the eyes of the instructor.
Jason gritted his teeth and leaned forward. His back screamed at the motion, nerves crying as Jason forced them to bend with his movement. Jason's hand was shaking, and black spots danced in front of his eyes. The sun was burning down on him. Jason would keel over if he didn't get back up now. Something that would get him killed. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad…
Jason shook his head, clearing it. What was he thinking? He had to make it out of here. Batman – his Dad – would be heartbroken. They fought but, ultimately, they would always love each other.
And Nightwing- No. Jason was impressed by Nightwing's ability to pick himself back up again. It was nothing short of astonishing. Still, in quiet moments Jason wondered if there was a point where a person's mind just couldn't withstand any more trauma. Where it would break without any chance of recovery. If anything in the world could make Nightwing lose it, Jason's death would do the job.
Jason wouldn't do this to his brother.
So, he righted himself again, blinking away the black spots on his eyes. Themis jumped at him, attacking him with her katana. Her movements showed no hesitation. Hesitation would have gotten her killed. Still, Jason noted the worry in her eyes.
The instructor's gaze was glued on Jason, looking for any mistake. Jason wouldn't give him any.
He used some of that fancy footwork the League had thought them. Go to the right, make it seem like he was striking there. Themis moved to block when Jason sprang to the left in the last moment. Themis' left was open. He struck and Themis went down. Jason kicked her right hand, making her lose her katana and put the wooden blade to her throat.
"Themis dead", Jason said.
Themis frowned, but she didn't say anything. She seemed slightly rattled. Jason wondered if he had hit her too hard. But Themis picked up her katana, righted her garb and went into another fighting stance. Her knees were shaking. She was just as exhausted as Jason was.
The instructor gave them another order, but a voice cut him off. A woman speaking in Arabic.
Jason turned around. He hadn't noticed Talia al Ghul approaching. Upon Talia's order, the apprentices stopped fighting. The instructor's look turned sour, but Talia barely spared him a glance.
"The Demon's Daughter ordered him to stop", Themis muttered, "We are already over time and are needed in the kitchens."
Jason frowned. Interesting. He wondered if the instructor had stretched the training out in order to have Jason make a mistake. Well not today bastard. Jason had shown him.
Themis followed the other apprentices to the kitchen. Jason looked at Talia. She was still standing there, graceful like a stature. Her face was as blank as one.
"Daughter of the Demon", Jason said, "May I speak with you?"
Themis froze at Jason's words. Her posture screamed something akin to: 'What the hell are you doing?'
The instructor's face turned even more sour as his hand twitched towards the stick.
"Cease", Talia ordered him and barely spared Jason a glance, "You may follow me."
She was already walking towards the edge of the courtyard into a direction that was off bounds for anyone below the status of an al Ghul.
Jason frowned. He hadn't expected for this to work. But he couldn't let this opportunity pass. He needed to know what was going on here. So, he hurried to catch up to Talia.
She went through an archway into what Jason recognized were lavish gardens. The slim paths were neatly raked. Palms and exotic plants framed the paths.
"The private al Ghul-gardens", Talia said.
"They are beautiful", Jason attempted to make conversation.
He couldn't read Talia. Her intentions for any of this were completely in the dark.
Talia ignored Jason's attempts at pleasant conversation and walked along the path. The plants broke open to reveal a small pond. It was more secluded as a stone bench stood next to a cherry tree.
Talia sat down on the bench looking at the pond. Jason halted, unsure what to do. The scene seemed surreal. Talia – with all her graceful elegance and the beautiful gardens around her – looked like she was sitting in a painting. It was more than a bit intimidating.
"Sit down", Talia's voice stayed cold – no sign of emotion.
Jason hadn't expected her to show any. He followed the order, keeping a respectful distance between them on the bench.
"You wished to speak to me?", Talia gaze stayed focused onto the water.
"Yes, Daughter of the Demon."
"I am tired of this title", disdain sneaked into Talia's voice, "You shall call me Talia in private. This shall not be our last conversation – if you prove yourself worthy."
Jason frowned. Utterly confused by Talia's behaviour.
"I never thanked you for saving my life."
"I did not do it for you."
Talia was talking in riddles. Any answer she gave made more questions pop up in Jason's mind.
"Still, thank you."
"I do not understand what he sees in you. Your technique is lacking. You act rashly. You are insolent and without manners just like your pathetic upbringing would imply."
Jason ignored the slide against his whole existence: "He?"
"Batman", Talia said.
"You saved my life for him?"
"As I have already stated."
Jason's thought raced. The signs had been there. Talia had been interested in Jason's connection to Batman.
"So, what are you? Friends?"
Talia scoffed as if the sheer notion was insulting: "The bond I share with my Beloved goes far beyond mere friendship."
Beloved?
Nope. Jason's mind was short-circuiting at that. What the fuck, Bruce? Bruce – the biggest moralist around – had gotten it on with a supervillain.
The same Bruce who kept lecturing Jason about not killing people and the sanctity of life. The same Bruce who kept glowering at Wally behind Nightwing's back whenever the speedster was around. As if the speedster didn't treat Nightwing with the utmost care.
Do as I say, not as I do. Jason scoffed. Maybe Jason should get it on with a supervillain just to spite Bruce. Or even better: Get N to do it to really make Bruce's blood boil.
"He did not mention that you were lovers", Jason said once he got his thoughts back together.
"The memory must be too painful for him. I broke up with him when I realized that his loyalty to his city and my loyalty to the League were too strong. I saw that it pained him."
Jason grinned to himself. Bruce Wayne – Gotham's playboy - had gotten dumped? That was too delicious to pass up.
"I do not understand why he developed such a sentimentality towards you and the Talon", Talia frowned, her icy façade showing cracks, "I have been watching you, Jason Todd. There is nothing remarkable about you."
Damn. Talia really had to rub it in.
"I'm a Crime Alley-kid. We are tenacious. Maybe I'll prove you wrong."
"I doubt it."
Jason shook his head: "I can't believe you saved me for him."
"I saved you once for him. From now on, you are on your own, Jason Todd – until you prove yourself strong enough for my plans."
"Plans?"
"You are not disciplined enough for them", Talia raised her nose, "I would have preferred the Talon if I had the choice between Bruce's… protegees, but you are the one destiny send me. Despite its simple mind, I would have been sure that it had the strength to fulfil the mission."
"He", Jason corrected her.
Talia waved dismissively: "The Court's barbaric methods did nothing but create mindless soldiers. Disgraceful. The Owls sought to extinguish the minds of their Talons. We sharpen the minds of our Shadows. It is the reason we are thriving while the Court is history."
"You knew about the Court's methods?"
"Of course, I did", Talia said, "I saw their conditioning myself. If you believe your training to be harsh, you have not seen half of it. The Court took its Talons apart."
Jason frowned. Talia seemed to disapprove of the Court's brutality. She hid it behind her usual derision, but Jason wondered if Talia felt even a tiny sliver of compassion for the Talons.
"Don't you think it's a bit hypocritical?", Jason said, "I've already seen three apprentices die in less than a week."
"How did they die?"
"A cut to the throat."
"A swift and merciful death", Talia said, "A death with dignity. An unworthy Talon gets disgraced, beheaded and its body discarded in the sewers. There is no dignity in that."
Disgraced. Jason shuddered just at the word. Cobb had declared Nightwing as disgraced and ripped out his claws. It had been one of the most painful things Jason had ever seen. Pure sadism. Maybe he understood what Talia meant.
"You prepare us for the world", Jason said, "The Court breaks its Talons apart until they can't navigate the world anymore without orders."
Jason remembered Nightwing's empty eyes and the motionless body when he had first found him. Nightwing had been helpless these first months. He had barely twitched without Jason telling him that he was allowed to.
"That is correct", Talia said, "A number of apprentices come to us in search for tools to navigate this brutal world. As did you. As did Bruce Wayne, my Beloved. I train my son with the same philosophy. My training is harsh, but it is needed to prepare Damian for the world."
"Bruce trained here?"
Talia nodded: "It is here where I first met him. He was arrogant and rash, but he was determined."
"Didn't you call me rash, too?", Jason said.
"You have the first two qualities, but I don't see enough determination yet."
Jason smiled. He started to see behind Talia's arrogant and cold façade. He suspected that there was more to her than initially seemed. Talia's mercy may be stronger than Ra's had presented it.
"Maybe I can prove you wrong", Jason smiled.
"We shall see", Talia said.
She stood up. Jason followed suit.
"You are needed in the kitchen", Talia said, "I shall send a servant to your room tonight to treat those wounds on your back."
"Thank you", Jason said.
"Another service to my Beloved", Talia said, "He is in my debt."
They walked towards the archway again.
Talia's gaze turned cold again: "Do not dare to disappoint my efforts, Jason Todd."
"I'll try my best."
Talia waved dismissively.
"Demon's Daughter", Jason bowed before her and left.
He turned around and moved towards the kitchen.
Talia turned to the building. Damian stepped out behind a pillar. He was accompanied by guards.
"I was searching for you, Mother", Damian said, "The time for our daily sparring lesson has already begun."
"Very well", Talia dismissed the guards with a gesture.
She apparently liked to do that a lot. The guards left.
Once they were gone, Talia put a hand on Damian's shoulder. Squeezing it before she let go again and walked towards what must be the training room. It wouldn't be a particularly remarkable gesture, but Jason could see the sentimentality in it. Talia loved her son.
The brat stayed back for a moment. His eyes met Jason's. They were green just like his mother's.
"Get to your duties before I call the guards", Damian sneered.
"Excuse me, Heir to the Demon", Jason bowed and finally went on his way to the kitchens.
His thoughts were racing. Talia's influence was undeniable in Damian. His brown skin and the green eyes. The way he carried himself. Still, Damian was slightly lighter than Talia. His features were still softened by baby fat but they had a sharpness to them that reminded Jason of Bruce. It wouldn't be impossible for- No. Bruce would have mentioned that right?
The timing could fit though. Damian must be around ten. Young enough for Bruce to have a liaison with Talia in his mid-twenties. And there was no father in sight. Not even a mention or even whispers of one.
Still, Bruce wouldn't have abandoned his son. Not to the Shadows. Bruce wasn't one to run away from responsibility. He had his faults, but he wasn't a deadbeat Dad. Bruce cared too much to be like that.
This meant that either, Bruce didn't know about Damian or Jason's train of thought was absurd. Maybe the brat's father was some ninja who would turn up here tomorrow. Jason hoped it was because if Bruce had a biological son – a real son – then he didn't need Jason and Nightwing anymore.
Maybe Bruce would keep Nightwing. His loyal son. His golden boy. But he wouldn't keep Jason. Not when Jason was the black sheep who made Bruce's life so much harder. The one who spit into the face of Batman's teachings.
Bruce had taken care of them because he was lonely. He wouldn't be that anymore. Not with a real family instead of the fucked-up bunch that they were now. Jason was amazed that Bruce had even cared for him in the first place. Most people wouldn't have wanted Willis' sloppy seconds in the first place.
He felt tears well up in his eyes. His situation felt increasingly hopeless. Jason felt tempted to find a way to contact Nightwing. Even if Jason couldn't be sure about Bruce anymore, Nightwing would always be there for him.
He wondered how Nightwing would react to Damian. Would he try to befriend the little brat? Be a good big brother? Or would he be as frightened as Jason was? Probably the first one – which was the reason why Nightwing was the son to keep and Jason the son to discard.
Jason froze, taking a deep breath. He had taken up Talia's challenge. He had to keep it together. He would show her that he was strong enough to do whatever mission she had in mind.
Jason's worries about Damian were not unfounded but still unconfirmed. There was still a high chance the brat wasn't Bruce's. And Jason's worries would look stupid in hindsight then.
Jason wouldn't call Nightwing. His brother had his own mission. He was out there on an undercover mission with Deathstroke as his only back-up. Infiltrating the most dangerous group of villains on the planet. All to find that Amazon and save the Talons.
Nightwing – his hero of a brother – didn't have time to bail Jason out of the hell he had chosen. And Jason wouldn't be selfish enough to damn hundreds of Talons to their hopeless fate because he was sad and needed an extraction.
Jason reached the kitchen. Themis looked at him questioningly. Jason didn't grace her with an answer. Instead, he went to the cutting board and peeled his pile of potatoes. Jason's back flared up in pain, every time he moved his arms.
Themis snuck a few of Jason's potatoes once she had finished her pile. Returning Jason's favour from last time.
Victor Stone hadn't been whole for months now. He had run away from home to get away from his overbearing father. Silas had been insufferable ever since the accident. He had barely let Victor out of his sight. So, Victor had disabled Sillas' ability to track him and had taken a bus to Metropolis.
The city of Tomorrow had seemed appealing at the time. Victor had hoped that he could live a quiet life here – a normal one away from the stares he got when he crossed the street. Metropolis was the city of Superman after all. They should be used to a boy who was half-robot, right?
Victor's hopes had been too optimistic. The inhabitants of Metropolis had stared at Victor like the people in Star City had. He would be a freak everywhere on the planet.
So, Victor had spent most of his days secluded in his dingy apartment, only leaving at night when he could shroud his face in darkness under the hood of his jacket. Victor hadn't even looked for a job.
He had only survived because he had done some hacking. Victor would have felt bad about it, but he suspected that the Wall Street brokers whose accounts Victor had hacked, wouldn't miss a few hundred dollars.
It had been a quiet life. A lonely life. But at least Victor had lived on his own terms. Then, Victor had made the mistake of attempting to hack Lex Luthor's account. Just another billionaire to get a few hundred dollars from, right? Biggest mistake of his life because this billionaire wouldn't let such a slight go.
Luthor's people must have tracked Victor to his dingy apartment. He didn't know how but he supposed that if anyone could find a way it was Lex Luthor.
One day, a guy in orange had sat on Victor's sorry excuse for a sofa, looking smug. Victor had tried to fight but he wasn't a superhero. Before he had even thrown a punch, the guy in orange had knocked Victor out. Then, he had woken up in this pod, half-dismantled.
The alien had already been there when Victor had arrived. As fiery then as she still was. Victor felt bad for not knowing her name even after months together in this hell. Garfield had been next and Donna Troy was their newest addition.
She had given Victor hope for just a moment. An Amazon – that was a big deal. Amazon meant Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman meant Justice League – the only ones who could conceivably stop Luthor. Still, Victor's hope had vanished as the weeks had gone by and no Wonder Woman had stormed into this facility to free them.
Victor didn't know what it was like to be whole again. He had hated his mechanic parts, but he really wanted them back now. Taking most of them from him – leaving only the ones he needed to survive – had been cruel. It had taken the little control Victor had left after the accident.
Maybe he would never regain control again if Luthor got his way. And Victor had learned in the last few months that Luthor always got his way.
It was night now. Most of the scientists had left with only one staying to watch them. He was slumped over his desk snoring away. The Talon would come in the morning to take care of them. Victor scoffed. This was so fucking humiliating. Victor couldn't even take a piss anymore without someone to carry his dismantled body to the toilet.
The alien was quiet for a change. Her head was slumped forward in exhaustion. It was bad when even the Tamaranean showed weakness.
"Are you awake?", Donna whispered.
"For you always, Sweetheart", Garfield said.
At least, Gar could still flirt. That was something. It was truly hopeless once he stopped that.
"Wish I was asleep", Victor muttered.
Sleep was the only state he had some peace of mind in nowadays. Victor just wanted this to be over. He didn't care how it happened at this point. Victor had nothing left.
The Tamaranean was watching them.
Donna said: "I know we are all exhausted-"
"Exhausted is a nice way to phrase it", Victor scoffed.
"Fine", Donna said, "We are at the end of our wits, but we can't give up now. We have a new opening."
"I'm excited for that explanation", Victor looked at the tables with his machine parts.
He wanted his prosthetics back. He despised that he needed them so badly.
"You got a plan?", a slight tinge of hope creeped into Garfield's voice.
"Not really a plan. Just a thing we should do."
Great. So, nothing. They were screwed.
Victor stayed quiet though.
Donna continued: "The Talon is our opening. We need to get him on our side."
"Did you see that thing?", Victor said, "I'm half robot but that thing is a complete machine."
"He's not", Donna said.
"I gotta agree with Vic here", Gar said, "My mentor Steve Dayton-"
"The leader of the Doom Patrol?", Donna asked.
Gar hadn't told her the story yet.
"Yeah", Gar said, "I was with them, but I ran away."
"Why?"
Gar tried to sound tough: "I wanted to be independent. Be my own man, Beautiful."
It was ridiculous coming from what? A 16-year-old?
"What did Dayton say?", Victor wanted this conversation to be over quickly, maybe get some sleep in.
"He told me about the Court. They take their Talons young. They kill them and then they train and condition them until there is nothing left. Dayton knows how minds work. He said no one can survive that with their mind intact."
"No", Donna said, "Dayton is wrong. The Talon I knew-"
Victor cut her off. He was so tired of this.
"You told us the story. You are convinced that all these Talons are just poor misunderstood souls. Maybe they aren't that. Maybe they are just murder machines now. The one from yesterday certainly looks like one. If anyone knows, it should be Mento."
Donna's face turned angry: "You aren't a machine, Victor – no matter what anyone tries to tell you. You are a human being and the Talons are, too."
Victor scoffed. He just wanted all of this to be over.
"So, what do you want us to do?", Gar asked, "Get it to sing songs with us? Use the power of friendship?"
"Maybe addressing him like a human being would be a good start. We are not like Luthor. We don't treat people like objects."
"It's a zombie killer. I'm sorry to tell you but zombies aren't sentient anymore", Gar said.
"We have to try and connect with him", Donna said, "He's in the same hell we are in."
"He's not in a pod", Gar said.
"You said it yourself", Donna said, "The Court takes them young – as children. It kills them and revives them. It puts these kids through unbearable torture and to cope, they do what they are ordered to do: Kill people. They have no power in any of this. The Talon is a prisoner – just like we are."
Victor felt sick at Donna's elaborations.
Gar's face dropped: "You can't convince me that these things are still in any way human. No one can go through all of this and keep their humanity. Dayton is right."
"Victor?", Donna asked for back-up.
Victor shook his head. Donna wasn't completely unreasonable, but Victor couldn't get himself to hope. He had been beaten down too many times to allow himself that luxury.
"Sorry, Troy", Victor said.
Donna sighed: "I wish the Tamaranean could talk to us. We don't even know her name."
Victor doubted that the Tamaranean would back Donna on this even if she could understand them. Not the way she had spat into the Talon's face.
"She could soak in our language if she touched one of us", Gar said, "Preferably me – and with lip contact."
Victor intervened: "The scientists only touched her with gloves. And we are in these stupid pods so it's irrelevant anyway."
Donna frowned: "If she touched the Talon-"
"Can she even soak in language from a Talon?", Gar asked.
"Why not?"
"Well, if they are as mindless as Dayton says-"
"They aren't", Donna said, "I'll show you."
Victor sighed: "Excited to see it, Wondie."
AN: Aaah. Everyone is so sad and lonely. Artemis is Tigress now though. I like the idea of her taking the name to honour her mother. I did some research and apparently, Paula did go by Tigress at one point in the comics. So, I tweaked a bit to make it fit. Canon is my friend. We like to have fun together.
And Jasoooon. No, Jason, stop that train of thought right now. Bruce loves you. He has space for all his kids in his heart. You aren't "Willis' sloppy seconds". Jason, my boy. We need to talk about your self-esteem.
Victor suffering as well. Please Victor. Listen to Donna. She has the right intuition.
Also, everyone truly hates Nightwing now – confirmed. His plan worked. Yay? (Put a giant question mark behind that.) Artemis completely reinterpreting Nightwing's room :,(.