"We got caught jumping roofs two miles from here. Walked right into a trap. I told her to take to the sky, but something caught her by the ankle. He slammed me into the brick, told me this wasn't about me, and literally kicked me off the building into the mercenaries below." Jason exhaled slowly, drinking water and using the pause to look at the others. "There were six of them. Four are dead."

Batman clenched his jaw, resisting his better nature to say that death, that murder, was wrong. Jason wouldn't listen anyway. He had given up on that part of his son, maybe all of him.

Jason saw that he had given up and couldn't help but feel incomplete and alone. "It was self-defense," he mumbled sadly. "You're allowed to kill in self-defense."

"What?" Roy asked. Even sitting next to Jason he couldn't hear him.

"Nothing."

"Okay, moving on, how do we find him now?"

The bedroom door tentatively swung open, and both Dick and Roy stood and turned to the princess. "I believe I can help you with that," she said, and she held onto the door for support. "How are you feeling, Jason?"

"Why?" asked Jason sharply, and he also stood. "I wasn't the target. You were. I walked you right into that trap."

"That's not your fault," she said, moving over to the couch and pressing a hand to his face. "There is great unrest in you, Jason. More than usual. What's wrong?"

Jason leaned into her touch. Damn drugs making it hard to suppress who he really was. "The first time I woke up, you were dead. Then I had to shoot myself to wake up again. But somewhere through that I passed out again, and shot myself again, and passed out, and shot myself, and now I'm here wondering if it's real. I feel like I'm going insane."

She frowned and pulled him to her in an embrace. Everyone else's eyes widened. Jason hugging? Obviously the end times. Dick couldn't help but smile, though. If someone could help his wayward brother, it was Koriand'r. "You are awake now," she said. "And I am fine. We will find Deathstroke and end this."

Jason closed his eyes and took in her scent. How long ago was it that he had thought that sweet and unique smell was gone forever? "Yeah, about that. We can't kill him. Not that I don't want to, because I really want to, but if we pursue it that way, we'll have two fights on our hands, and we can't fight a war on two fronts right now. We'll have to play by our guests' rules for the time being."

Kori smiled softly. Dick wondered quietly if it was a smile of pride at his decision. If that was what she had wanted all along. "That's fine. I am not bothered by your decision. You saved me and now you wish to protect us once again. That is enough."

Yeah, Dick would really have to talk to her about it, once their little reunion took place. "Hey, Koriand'r? Before we find Deathstroke, can we talk?" Dick shuffled his feet awkwardly.

Kori looked at him, and lived a thousand memories in those few seconds of silence. She felt confusion and anger and overwhelming love, and she wanted desperately to let the emotions knock her down, wash over her. But, she was still holding onto Jason; fragile Jason, who was always a step away from becoming the most cunning villain she had ever met, and a step away from crawling back to his own coffin.

"There will be a time for that later. I promise," she said. Dick frowned a bit, but nodded in agreement. Jason slipped out of her arms and felt the cool air settle on his chest. His cheeks felt hot with embarrassment.

Jason cleared his throat and relaxed his shoulders. His stance screamed what they thought of him before: cool, unattached, a complete mystery. Now, though, the spell had been broken, and they saw him for what he really was: an orphan twice over, a kid barely at drinking age who had lost all his innocence a few lifetimes before this date. "Starfire, you said you could find our prime suspect?"

Kori nodded. "I found this when I woke up. They seem to be coordinates." She handed the paper to him, and Jason took only a glance before gaping wide-eyed at the tiny slip.

"What?" Dick asked, but Jason couldn't speak. Everything clicked into place. It was exactly what he would do if he was still targeting the family. Target the ex, draw Dick out. With the favorite child in crisis, the father follows. Leaving the home front unprotected.

"Gotham," he said, and the paper dropped from his hand. "It's Gotham."