Roy was certain, especially considering the events of the past few years, that there were many people out there who considered the Rogues evil.
He could understand it, he supposed, in an abstract sort of way. Even before they were blamed for a terrorist attack, they were criminals. And there were a good many, fine upstanding people who considered all criminals evil.
Break the law in any way, from stealing a candy bar to killing a man. Somehow, both crimes were the same. Both people beyond redemption.
Which, and this was based on only the vaguest of memories from when he was a child, wasn't exactly what he remembered being taught in church.
True he had only gone four or five times, and only on Christmas. So maybe he didn't have the firmest grasp on Christianity.
His only real education on the subject was in art school. When they would study the masters and see how they were inspired by angels and demons alike.
Bosch's paintings on the subject were always particularly disturbing.
So maybe he was wrong. Maybe those who called all criminals evil were just following the good book to the letter.
He knew he wasn't evil though. Nor were any of the rest of the Rogues.
And this he only knew because he had met evil men. James Jesse, the Reverse Flash. Those were evil men.
You could see it in their eyes. You could hear it in their voices. Something lurking just beneath the surface.
Lex Luthor was a different type of evil.
Mainly because, even standing only a few feet from him, Roy didn't feel that same certainty.
Luthor didn't have the madness of Jesse.
Or the righteous cruelty of the Reverse Flash.
Luthor seemed like the type of man who would try to get a barista fired for misspelling his name on his Starbucks cup.
Not the type of man who plotted massive terrorist attacks, and could have you killed with the snap of his fingers.
His suit was impeccably cut and probably cost more than every apartment Roy had ever owned put together. There were no paintings or large pieces of furniture. No rare plants or antiquities lined the room. Nothing that Luthor could point to that would start a monologue about an ancient civilization and how it related to their current situation.
There was no sense of personality to the space. No indication that the man in front of him was anything other than some business mogul who just happened to own the entire building.
Roy had never met anyone who seemed so…indifferent.
And not just about the entirety of the Rogues suddenly appearing around his desk, inside of his highly secured office, all with clear murderous intent.
Waller had been the same way. But in her case, it had been a practiced look. The head of an organization like ARGUS couldn't be surprised by every little thing.
With Luthor, it was though he would have reacted the same way if they had all appeared naked, holding a birthday cake, and dancing a jig.
Luthor didn't have to practice at his disinterest.
The man was born indifferent to those around him.
To those beneath him.
"I must say Mr. Snart, I was expecting you sooner."
"You'll forgive us busting in like this. We would have made an appointment but I swear, I think your secretary is avoiding our calls."
"I don't have a secretary. I have an advanced AI that…"
"Well that explains it. I thought the voice sounded a bit robotic, but who can tell these days. Not to mention our schedule has been a bit hectic as of late. What with Saks' auction next month, and Axel's birthday is coming up, he is oddly hard to shop for, and oh yes, the attempted destruction of Central City."
"Yes. A terrible tragedy. It's lucky that many more weren't killed. I've already prepared a statement and will be giving it this afternoon."
"That's gotta be one hell of a speech. Tell me do you have minions who are going to be standing beside you holding weapons. A Luthor flag prominently displayed behind you? I know how you terrorists like to show strength in these things."
Luthor barely glanced up from the paperwork on his desk.
"No such fanfare will be necessary. It is a fairly straightforward press conference, simply laying out the facts of what occurred. Would you like me to read it to you?"
"Not really in the mood for another super villain monologue. Dillon already had her moment."
"Yes. I saw that on the news. Poor woman. It is…quite the story, what you have all endured because of her."
Snart narrowed his eyes but didn't move from his perch on the edge of Luthor's desk. Roy didn't like the way this was going. The way Luthor was so calm, especially considering the way Mick was glaring at the man. The fire from his gauntlets wrapping around his arms, rippling up and down in an odd rhythm. Digger was standing by the entrance. Casually sharpening a boomerang, but ready in case anyone tried to bust in.
Shawna was standing on one side of Roy, Mark on the other. No doubt both of them wanting to simply kill the man and be done with it. Snart's orders the only thing keeping them in place.
Axel was only a few steps from Digger. Keeping surveillance off of them, while simultaneously trying to hack into Luthor's system. Steal anything they could to bury Luthor with.
Figuratively of course.
Lisa was no doubt thinking literally. She was a step to her brother's left. While Cold had let go of his gun, portraying a casualness to the conversation. Lisa's hand never left hers. It was in her holster, but barely.
Snart hadn't tried to convince them that someone needed to stay behind. That if this was a trap then someone had to be on the outside in case they were caught.
No one was going to miss the opportunity to finally get this bastard and make him pay.
Luthor started to stand and Mick raised his hands. The fire around them heating up the room instantly.
"Don't move asshole."
"Don't worry Mr. Rory, I haven't got any weapons hidden up my sleeve." Luthor pulled a small notecard out of his jacket pocket. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I…"
"You really think we are just going to sit here an listen to you talk you sick…" Snart put a hand on Mick's arm. Stopping the pyro's forward momentum. Snart raised an eyebrow at Luthor, then waved a hand for him to continue. Luthor gave a gracious nod.
"I am certain by now, most of you have seen the footage coming out of Central City. The devastation caused by a collection of metahumans with powers similar to the serial killer Kyle Nimbus. It is with a heavy heart that I must state that these metas were created by LuthorCorp."
"Damn son, if we had known you were just going to like straight up confess to everything we would have bum rushed you ages ago."
"He isn't confessing." Axel turned at Cold's words. Looking up from his tablet with confusion.
"But he's telling them it's his fault. I mean, like, that's pretty much a slam dunk for us."
"Dillon. She influenced all of us, and confessed to influencing Luthor as well. Kid Flash heard her, and can corroborate our story. Has already started telling everyone he knows. And since he is exactly the type of do-gooder who wouldn't lie to the cops, she will take the fall for everything."
"I must admit Mr. Snart. For a high school drop out, you can be unexpectedly clever."
"How the hell is he going to blame it on Dillon? She didn't build a whole bunch of freaks in a basement."
"No, Mr. Walker. However, I met with Ms. Dillon, while she was still in custody. I met with all of the metahumans that my company was going to de-power. Part of my public outreach, I wanted to make sure they understood the procedure, the risks associated with it. There are many visitor logs and videos that can corroborate that this was a normal occurrence for me. My meeting with her was three days before the prison break that released her and Mr. Scudder. Her powers must not have been fully contained when I went to visit. And since no one, not even the Flash, knew her powers could work like that. Well, it's all very unfortunate.…"
Luthor didn't smile, Roy wasn't certain the man even could. But there was something in his eyes. A glint of some sort of emotion. Not happiness. Just…satisfaction at a job well done.
"My story will add credence to yours. Yours will no longer be the last grasp of desperate criminals, it will be backed by a reputable business man, one of your greatest detractors. As I have led the push for your capture, my corroboration of your claims will give them the greatest weight. And since you already told the cops and the Flash about Dillon, and I had no prior knowledge of that, when I go to the press it will confirm it in the police's mind that Dillon is completely to blame. It's called synergy."
"It's calling being a worthless piece of shit."
"Of course Mr. Rory, I could always say that I don't believe your story. That I don't believe Ms. Dillon is capable of causing people to become paranoid and turn on one another. I would take some…inconvenient harassing by the police and the federal government. Might cost me a great deal of money. I might even spend a few months in jail. But I would come through it, just as wealthy and influential as ever. Tell me, Mr. Snart, how do you think your little group would fair under police protection?"
"You think we aren't going to kill you? That you're going to walk away from this. You killed all those people in Metropolis, you…"
"Shawna."
Shawna stopped talking, but the anger was still burning through her. Roy put a hand on her arm. Not to restrain her, but to remind her. They all wanted a piece of Luthor. It wouldn't be fair for her to just drop him out a window and leave nothing for the rest of them. She glanced back at him for a moment, then stepped back slightly.
Luthor kept his focus solely on Snart.
"That's my offer Mr. Snart. I'll tell the world that Ms. Dillon caused me to turn my altruism into horrific experiments. And you and your little group will get that absolution that the cops will no doubt offer you. In light of all these now false charges, not to mention how many times they tried to kill you outside the realm of proper police procedure, they won't have much of a choice. If you need a good civil rights attorney, I can recommend a few. You could sue them for a hefty sum if you play your cards right."
"How are you going to explain Metropolis? That was months before you supposedly met with Dillon."
"Well, that's up to you. It can go one of two ways. You can either go with Option A and say that you met Dillon and Scudder prior to Metropolis and she managed to influence you all then. Though that would be difficult to explain, as to why it took so long for you all to figure out what she had done. Or why you didn't turn on one another sooner. Not to mention you would then still be responsible ultimately for what happened. At least in the minds of the public. No matter how much she manipulated you. Or. Option B."
"And what, pray tell is option B?"
"Simple. I wasn't influenced by Dillon at that time. But she was in constant interaction with prison guards and doctors. Mandatory shrink visits. Even janitors and other members of the prison. I can have doctored paperwork created showing that a few of the psychiatrists were also Cadmus employees. That they created this trap for the Rogues as a sort of experiment influenced by Ms. Dillon. She was manipulating all of them from the beginning. Her hatred of you in particular Mr. Snart will lead credence to this. It was revenge that motivated her. And seeing as she just tried to do it again in Central, well that's a pattern isn't it. Easy enough for the unwashed masses to understand."
"Dillon's the scapegoat for all of it."
"Yes, and with her recent insanity, well it isn't likely she will be able to tell her side of the story now is it?"
Jesus.
Dillon was a piece of shit, sure. But Roy wasn't sure she deserved this.
"Got it all figured out, all nicely wrapped up just waiting for the public to swallow it all whole."
"The truth is what I tell people it is. I have that kind of money. I own enough newspapers and tv conglomerates that they will hear only what I think they need to."
"What about Scudder?"
"What about him?"
"How does he factor into this?"
"He's of no consequence. Once I have located him and Ms. Dillon, their powers will be removed. Then they will both be sent back to prison. Though I can't imagine the other prisoners will allow the two of them much peace. All things considered."
Luthor would remove their powers, then pay someone to kill them in prison so no one would ever be able to refute his story.
How long would Luthor wait until he sent someone to kill the Rogues to keep them from talking?
If Roy was thinking that, Snart had to be.
"So what's it going to be Mr. Snart? Your pride, some ridiculous need for revenge, or your so-called family?"
The rest of the Rogues watched as Snart continued to glare at Luthor. Snart was no longer lounging by Luthor's desk. His nonchalance now replaced with a familiar stance. His hand on his gun, his back rigid. It was the one he adopted moments before battle.
"Screw this…"
Surprisingly, it wasn't Cold that grabbed Mick's hand. It was Axel. Thought the kid looked just as surprised by his action as Mick was.
"Let go of my hand punk."
"Easy man, it's cool. I'm cool, we're cool. It's just, you know, I'm like…not wanting to die of acrid smoke inhalation you know?"
"What?"
"Like don't get me wrong. Seeing an android's face melt off is definitely on my list of top ten things I want to see in real life before I die. I really, really want it to be exactly like the end scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark where the Nazis are all…"
"Android."
"Yea." Axel looks around at all of them. "What, seriously? Dudes. Guys. Gals. Buddies. Friends. Compadres…"
"Axel…"
"That's not a person. Like it's super convincing and shit and I want to rip it open and play with its insides for the rest of my life. Sort like I did with my first Furby before I realized Furbys were really demons sent to kill all of humanity. And there was nothing inside of them but black ichor and the screams of the innocent. But that's totally not really Luthor. Come on, I can't be the only one who can tell."
Luthor actually looked surprised for a moment. And perhaps more disturbingly, suddenly very interested in Axel.
"Well done Mr. Walker. Tell me, what gives it away? I've used this vessel in meetings with some of the most brilliant minds in the industry and even under body scanners they haven't been able to tell it wasn't truly me."
"Like I'm going to tell you bro."
Lisa was standing only a foot or so from Luthor. Staring at the man intently.
"That's why we never saw you do anything interesting in Scudder's mirrors. You were using this just in case anyone was watching."
"I've found that decoys are a remarkable way to get things done without people asking too many questions. Always good to have a solid alibi on camera. And it makes surviving surprise attacks a bit easier."
"So even if we had just destroyed the entire building..."
"I'm not even in the same country as you Mr. Mardon. Though I would hope even you aren't so foolish as to try and prove you aren't terrorist, by destroying a building. Though considering your track record, that wouldn't be much of a surprise. Now. I'm a businessman Mr. Snart, and I don't have the time to make proposals twice. What is your answer?"
Snart hadn't moved from his stance. His hand still firmly on his gun. His glance hadn't changed, but the way Lisa was looking at him made Roy think he had missed something.
"Len …"
"We accept. You create the scapegoats. All the paperwork showing that Cadmus scientists were behind what happened in Metropolis."
"And…"
"And the Rogues agree to never directly attack or contradict your statements."
"All of the Rogues?"
Roy remembers the fight it was to keep Mark from attacking the cops. Knows Lisa still intends to kill the Flash if she gets the chance.
Roy even feels himself have to control the burning in his eyes.
Forgive and forget wasn't in their nature. How the hell did Snart think he was going to keep them away?
"All of us."
"Perfect. I'll have it done by the end of the day."
It was a dismissal. As though Luthor was just conducting another business meeting. As if he didn't put the Rogues through hell for months. Like he hadn't killed hundreds of people in the last year. Hadn't tried to destroy all of Central City just so no one would question his power.
Maybe this wasn't anything other than an ordinary day for him. He was a billionaire. Destroying people's lives was basically the job description.
Roy's eyes were burning behind his shades. He wondered if his powers would even work on an android. If he could get to Luthor through…
"Shawna. Let's go."
"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Snart."
By the time they were back in the safe house, Roy's powers were still active. He could feel the black veins around his eyes pulsing.
Mark put a hand on his shoulder.
If Mark was being more reasonable than he was, Roy really needed to calm down.
He focused on taking a few breaths. Digger already had a bottle of whiskey out and was passing it around. Lisa was looking at her brother, not with confusion but with slight disapproval. The fact that she wasn't angrier helped to calm him a bit as well. There must be something he missed. There had to be a plan, something more than…than whatever the hell that was.
The tension in the room was thick.
Mark took his hand off of Roy's shoulder and grabbed the whiskey from Digger. He took a swig then focused on Snart.
"I like to think I've gotten calmer over the past few years…"
"Debatable Mardon."
"You'll notice I didn't just open a tornado in the middle of that asshole's office."
"I did notice that. I'm thinking of giving you Rogue of the Month for it. It includes a ten dollar bonus in your next paycheck, and a nice parking spot right by the door to the safe house."
"What the hell was that Snart? We're just going to shake hands and walk away? That's the big plan?"
"Of course not. But, I had been thinking about what Digger said."
Digger started paying attention to the conversation at the mention of his name. He was the only one who hadn't seemed that disturbed by Snart's choice.
"Me? Since when does anyone listen to me?"
Shawna took the whiskey from Mark, then pulled on Roy's arm until he followed her to the couch. She was smiling, but Roy could see the tension in her eyes. Roy felt his powers finally dissipate.
"Yea boss man, listening to Digger is a surefire way to get arrested or injured. Sometimes both."
"Harkness said that even the esteemed Ms. Waller would know when she couldn't beat someone with more power than her. And it made me realize, that the only way to beat Luthor was to let him win."
"Feels like the opposite of winning here boss."
"Precisely. What Luthor doesn't know is that while we were all distracting him. Rathaway was uploading a Trojan Horse into LuthorCorp servers. One that will track anything he does for the foreseeable future, including recording that little conversation." Lisa took the whiskey from Shawna, then handed it to her brother.
"So when he changes all those documents…"
"We will have concrete proof that he was responsible. Or at the very least, culpable in what happened in Metropolis. And when Ms. West adds that information to her article, well..."
"You agreed that the Rogues wouldn't go against him. And since Hartley isn't technically a Rogue, and neither is Iris…"
"We are keeping up our end of the deal."
"Still want to roast him."
Mick growled from the corner, his gauntlets were off. Something that Roy found himself grateful for.
Mick hadn't said anything to him about what happened when Roy used his powers on him. But then again, Roy had been steadfastly avoiding the man as much as possible. Mick didn't seem inclined to want to talk about it. So Roy was going to let it go. The tried and true method of dealing with tension amongst the Rogues.
Ignoring it.
"A promise is a promise Mick. And I swore that you would get to light that man on fire. But in order to do that, we need to find him first." Snart looked towards Axel. The kid was pulling some kind of flash drive out of one of his many pockets.
"Which I am totes going to do. I mean, maybe not this exact second, because like I mean, I was just doing all kinds of stuff and hacking takes a lot of effort and I don't feel like people appreciate how hungry you get…"
"Take your time kid. Just make it sweeter when I finally watch him burn."
Axel flopped down into a nearby chair. He took the whiskey Snart handed him, poured a bit into an open Mountain Dew can mixed in some pop rocks, then handed the bottle to Mick.
"Cool. Cause I've got some ideas on how to track him but I gotta figure out how many of those androids he's got and how he's controlling them."
"His use of those as an alibi can be how we get to him. If he's giving a speech in New York, then there's no way we could be torturing him to death in Paris."
"I love it when you talk devious, boss. Really gets me going."
"Keep it in your pants Harkness." Lisa barely spared Digger a glance, turning instead towards her brother. Shawna nudged Roy in the side and raised her eyebrows, nodding towards Lisa and Digger. Roy was certain from her look of exasperation, that his face portrayed his confusion. He had no idea what she was trying to say.
"So…just to be certain brother dear. Your plan is to play nice with the cops, the Flash, Rathaway, and Luthor."
"That is the plan sis."
"Then when everyone's back to thinking of us like a couple of idiot bank robbers who got caught up in the master plan of an evil genius, we hunt him down and make him suffer slowly until he is begging for Mick to set him on fire."
"That is the Cliff Notes version. Yes."
Lisa held her brother's eyes for a moment longer.
"Sounds like a plan. I'm going to go take a shower, try to wash the last of this hair dye out. Blondes don't have nearly as much fun as people think in my experience."
Lisa sauntered out of the room, ignoring her brother's bemused look. He glanced back towards the rest of the Rogues. Focusing on Mick first.
"Mick."
"You keep your promises Snart. You say I'll get to burn him, then I'll get to burn him. Can wait a little longer for it."
"Mardon."
"Going to need something else to keep myself occupied Snart. I hope you don't intend for us to sit around and do nothing until Axel locates him."
"Of course not. There's still Scudder to contend with. Not to mention there are a few of Luthor's facilities that I think could stand to be…damaged by some natural occurrences. Nothing too overt. A bit more flooding than was predicted. Slightly stronger winds. I want him to suspect it's us, but not be able to prove it. We need to keep him distracted. He already thinks you will go against me and attack him. Let's make him think this is your way of getting back at him without breaking our deal."
"Any facilities you got in mind?"
Snart spent the next hour or so outlining the next steps in his plan. Stealing things from Luthor he would notice were gone, but wouldn't understand why the Rogues were taking. Make him think they were building up towards an attack on him.
At one point, Roy found his mind drifting. He was staring at Snart's cold gun. The man had taken to carrying it around with him again. Training with it, instead of his powers. Was it fear of his powers? Did he think that something like what happened in Metropolis could happen again?
Or was it simply another way for Captain Cold to throw his enemies off balance. Make them think his powers had been removed, focus on his gun, then freeze them when they thought they had the upper hand.
Maybe it was a combination of both.
Maybe he just liked the damn thing.
Roy realized he hadn't heard a word of what anyone was saying for the past ten minutes. He stood up from the couch swaying only slightly. He noticed there were five or six empty whiskey bottles on the ground. When did that happen? Shawna gave him an amused smile, patting him lightly on the arm as he started to walk away. She would fill him in on what he missed later. He walked out of the living room and headed towards his bedroom. He closed the door slightly, only being able to barely hear Digger and Mick argue over…something.
He didn't have any paintings sitting on the easel currently. He had finally taken the scenery of the Italian village down and placed it against the wall. It was by no means finished of course, but he had been sick of staring at it. He did need to finish that at some point, he was certain now he would be able to see what he had missed before.
He left the landscape where it was. He didn't want to paint the past.
He put a blank canvas on the easel and picked up his paints.
The scene didn't come to him at first. He added a brush stroke here or there, with no real thought to what he was creating. Then his hands began to move more quickly. Focused.
He could see it now.
The buildings began to take shape, the familiar heights providing a fullness to an oddly blank space in the foreground.
Central City.
But it was not the focus. It was only the backdrop. The thing by which the size and scope of the real subject could be judged. Such a thing was needed to establish lines and angles. Proportion and scale.
It was a monster. Rising up from the depths. Long tentacles breaking through the concrete.
Or was it roots? Branching out from a tree growing downwards instead of up. Thriving on the darkness, it's leaves like eyes in the sewers.
He stepped back for a moment. It looked a bit like both. And neither. There was no malevolence if it was a monster. But there was nothing natural if it was a tree.
A tree monster.
He really stares at it for at least another minute. What the hell was that thing? Why was he painting a tree monster?
He had just painted a B-Movie poster, which wasn't what he had intended. It was…it was supposed to be something else. Something important or…profound or something.
How the hell much had he had to drink?
He rubbed his eyes and went to sit on his bed only to find it occupied.
Mark was smirking, he tipped his almost empty bottle of whiskey towards the painting.
"I like it."
"Shut up."
Roy sat down on the bed, Mark barely moving to make room for him. He did have the decency to offer him a drink. Which Roy gladly took. He eyed the painting again.
"They can't all be masterpieces."
"What? Are you kidding? That's probably the only one I actually like."
"I don't know why it turned out like that."
"Seriously?"
"What?"
"You don't see it?"
"You're an art critic now?"
"Spent the last four years or so around you, something must be rubbing off. See the way that branch is like by that building? That's symbolism and shit."
Roy rolled his eyes. The room continued to move a few moments after he completed that action and thought it would be best if he didn't do that again for a little while.
"Symbolism and shit."
"I'm serious."
"You're drunk."
"Can be both."
Roy leaned back against the wall, mimicking Mark's relaxed position. Their shoulders brushing against one another.
"Enlighten me then. How can something that looks like it belongs on the cover of an HP Lovecraft novel have…symbolism that even the artist doesn't see?"
"Because the artist, can be a pretentious douche bag from time to time."
"That's a big word for you. And you pronounced it correctly too."
"And I'm even a little drunk!"
That elicited a small laugh from Roy. Guess they were all a little drunk tonight. Not quite a celebration. Not a victory, not yet.
More like…they weren't getting beaten to death any more. Sure they're still lying on the ground, bleeding all over the place.
But the blows weren't coming. The unending, relentless attacks. They'd stopped, of course they could start back up any second. But for a moment, they could just breathe.
"I'm going to throw up on your bed."
"I will kill you."
"No you won't."
"I would feel bad about it afterwards. But I would do it."
"If mind control or whatever the shit Dillon's powers were couldn't make us do it, don't think it's ever going to happen now."
"Hm."
Mark bumped against Roy's shoulder.
"Ever think it'd end up like this?"
Mark wasn't talking about the painting. Or the situation with Dillon and Scudder. Or even Luthor.
He was talking about something much more important.
Something more…permanent.
"No."
Mark smiled slightly. A slight hint of disbelief in his features.
"Yea. Me neither."
Roy felt a smile spread across his face. He leaned his head back against the wall and let his shoulder rest against Mark's.
Whatever they were now, criminals, ex-terrorists, villains. Super-villains. Whatever they were called, it wasn't just some random group. Some job they'd move on from some day. Some temporary point in their lives that they would one day look back on fondly.
They were the Rogues.
And now they all knew. There was no longer any doubt.
That was what they would always be.
So, that's the end. Not just of the story, but of the series. I think I put off writing this chapter for so long because I knew it would be the last.
The only other vague, nebulous idea I had for another one was to send them all to the prison planet from the Salvation Run comic. But if horror movies have taught me anything it's that when you are at the fifth in a series and your only idea is to send all the characters to space, you have to ask yourself if you've jumped the shark. Not to mention I would have to include every single villain from the Arrowverse into the story, and I just don't think I have the time to figure all that out.
Thanks to everyone who read it all.