(Sorry, I've been writing this on and off for months. It does get bloody in this chapter, from "The two guards watching the perimeter..." to "Stop stop stop stop" and from "NO! GET AWAY" to "What did I do?" and then mentions of someone getting shot, but it's not graphic. Just so you're forewarned.)
Jericho knew that symbol well. He had painted it himself, after all. It must have been several years ago, back when he was someone else. It had been the only time he brought the mute to this particular base, and he hadn't exactly been given a tour. Jericho could've kicked himself for not recognizing his style, but he supposed all criminal hideouts looked the same, and he had been a bit preoccupied for however long he'd been held here.
None of this stopped the feeling of air being crushed out of his lungs. It didn't stop his mind reeling, throat closing, heart beating impossibly loud in his ears. The ground stopped sliding beneath him; the guards must have realized he was awake and panicking.
Panicking because this was his base.
Slade's.
It didn't make sense. Why would Slade do something like this to him? How could he let it go this far? Why wouldn't he have shown himself by now? What happened to him?
It could all be an elaborate trap. Make Jericho desperate enough to bring in the Titans, and then he'd have them all at his mercy. Nothing about this seemed like the Slade he'd known, but, if what he'd gleaned from Robin's obsession with the man could be trusted, maybe he didn't really know Slade after all. For all he knew, this was punishment for associating himself with the Titans.
No, Jericho decided as he felt the prick of a needle in his neck, knowing where I am doesn't help at all.
Robin sighed, glaring at the street below from his perch on the corner of a rooftop. They'd been searching for hours with nothing to show for their efforts. At this rate, even if they found Jericho, they'd be too exhausted to help him.
"Starfire, Beast Boy, report."
"I have caught two of the snatchers of purses, but they knew nothing about friend Jericho," Starfire's disappointed voice responded.
"Nothing here either." Beast Boy whined, "Can we go home now? We've looked all over the city, and, uh, you may not remember, but we didn't even get to sleep last night! How do we know he's anywhere near here, anyway?"
"Raven says he's close, but you're right. We aren't going to find Jericho like this. Let's regroup and head back to the Tower. Maybe the others have something."
Robin closed his communicator and returned it to his belt. Starfire flew up to meet him shortly thereafter, and Robin let her pick him up under the arms and carry him, following Beast Boy-now a green pterodactyl-back to the Tower.
Cyborg was still in the main room, checking in with the other Honorary Titans, just to make sure everyone else was safe.
Beast Boy groaned and threw himself onto the couch. Cyborg raised an eyebrow at him before turning to Robin and Starfire.
"I guess you didn't find anything?"
Robin shook his head. "Not that I expected much, but with how Raven reacted I thought for sure there'd be something. At least a clue that there are new criminals around Jump."
"Y'all should check back with Raven. She's got the Herald in her room helping to set something up. I'll keep working here." Cyborg turned back to the monitor.
Starfire flew off down the hall. Robin followed. Beast Boy mumbled something into the couch before transforming into a turtle and dragging himself along the floor.
They cautiously entered Raven's domain to find the witch making sigils on the floor with a gray, powdery substance, while the Herald frantically placed white candles wherever Raven directed. He stumbled, looking close to collapsing from exhaustion and nerves. When the Herald noticed them, he almost dropped the candles.
"My sincerest apologies," Starfire said, "But we could not find any sign of friend Jericho."
"We won't stop looking," Robin added, noticing Herald deflating.
Beast Boy finally caught up and appeared, panting, in the doorway. "Cyborg said he'll be… umm… what are you doing?"
"A summoning ritual." Raven finished the overarching symbol with a flourish before taking the remaining candles from the Herald and setting them out herself. "It's a last resort, it's dangerous, and it might not help, but Jericho hasn't tried to contact us in a while. We're running out of options."
"So you could have just, like, teleported him here this entire time!?"
"It doesn't work quite like that, Beast Boy," Raven replied, smacking the shapeshifter's hand away when he curiously reached for the powder. "Jericho's physical form will remain wherever they're holding him, but his… consciousness, I guess, should be able to communicate with us more clearly. Maybe we can get an idea of Jericho's location from him directly."
Herald had turned away from them, fists clenched and shaking slightly.
Noticing this, Robin turned back to Raven. "So, what's the dangerous part?"
"You don't usually summon living people. I have no idea what this could do, to him or to us."
"We have to," Herald muttered. He turned to face them, and the Titans could feel his determined stare on each of them from behind the white and blue of his mask. "We can't leave him there. They'll kill him."
"Herald-"
"They're already killing him!" They'd never heard Herald raise his voice before. The musician took a few deep, heaving breaths, struggling to maintain his composure. "Whatever they're doing… whenever I hear him, he's so tired. So far away. He tried to comfort me, you know. They could be torturing him, for all we know, and he was trying to comfort me. I'm doing this. You in?"
Raven broke the silence that followed. "We'll need someone to stay out of this, in case something goes wrong."
"Beast Boy?" Robin turned to the youngest Titan present. "Go let Cyborg know what's going on. I trust you two can handle things if there's trouble."
"Good luck," Beast Boy said, mostly looking at Raven, before very reluctantly leaving the room.
The empath directed the remaining Titans to sit at certain points within the markings. With a wave of her hand, the candles were alight with small, black flames. As a finishing touch, she set Jericho's guitar in the center. Then, Raven sat down herself. She had them all link hands and closed her eyes to meditate. Almost immediately, the gray powder around Raven sparked into a dark violet flame, spreading along to the other markings, surrounding them and weaving their way towards the center. Upon hitting the guitar, the flames seemed to flow in reverse, radiating out as a burning gold overtook the cool purple. The flames flared, blindingly bright. By the time they had dwindled to a softer blue-green, a pale and slightly transparent figure had formed in the smoke.
He was little more than a terribly thin wisp, ragged and blurring at the edges. His eyes were shut tight as though in pain, and he kept his arms wrapped around his bare chest. They couldn't see much lower than that, with the smoke obscuring Jericho's legs and slowly creeping higher. Brighter white lines crossed his throat, accompanied by darker smudges of bruises. He gasped, and his eyes snapped open: a piercing, glowing green.
"Jericho," Herald whispered, as though terrified his friend would vanish again.
What are you doing to me? Even his "voice" was shaky.
"It's going to be okay, Jericho," Raven said, eyes still closed in concentration. "Just show me where you are."
No! You can't!
"What do you mean?" Robin asked.
Starfire leaned forward, her grip on Robin and Raven's hands bordering on painful. "Jericho, please help us find you!"
It's a trap! You have to stay away!
"I'm not leaving you there!"
Herald, listen, you don't know what he'll do to you-
Jericho's form appeared to be struggling.
Raven, let me go.
"Not until you show me."
N-no…
Raven pushed, and Jericho pushed back. A shudder ran through their circle, and they could see flashes. Bars on a window, Jericho's bruised face reflected off a strange sort of helmet, light shining on metal. They could hear someone sobbing. Soon, they weren't even sure if the images were from recent memory. There was a flash of a room that might have been a hospital, followed by the sound of shattering glass. So much cold and dark and fear. The last thing they saw was a horribly familiar one-eyed mask.
The teen heroes came to back in their circle, the flames died out and Jericho gone.
Jericho was back in his cell. He couldn't remember where in the base they'd had him before or how he got here. He remembered the Titans, though. Raven forcing her way into his head. What a stupid, dangerous thing to do. If he hadn't pushed her out before she reached the worst of it, she could've broken that dam inside of him. He could have hurt them all.
No more "talking" to the Titans, then.
The mute curled up into himself, gripping his arms to lessen the trembling of his hands. Though the aching loneliness and the realization that no one is coming for you threatened to crush him, he'd long since lost the energy for tears.
Overlooking the entrance to the bunker where he knew they were holding Joseph, Slade stopped to collect himself. For once in his long, blood-soaked career, he was anything but calm and collected. Wintergreen had called after Slade's chopper landed with some new information about the scum currently infesting his base, and it was taking all of Slade's self-control to hold off on blowing up the base and everything else within a fifty mile radius.
Self-loathing bubbled in his chest when he had to remind himself that saving Joseph comes first.
The two guards watching the perimeter never knew what hit them.
Far more than they deserve, a voice in Slade's head spat as he flicked droplets of blood from his blade. With no time to waste, he slammed a device with his signature "S" into the nearest control panel. A simple press of a button and the base went dark. He heard footsteps pounding down the hall toward him.
"Hey!" a voice shouted, followed by the familiar rustling of gunmetal against armor. Slade merely sighed and flicked a dagger over his shoulder without bothering to turn around. There was a sickening whump of the blade burying itself in its target, followed by choked gurgles and a final thump of the body hitting the ground.
Slade retrieved the dagger as he passed. A second guard stood further down the hall, stunned. Slade slammed the man's head into the wall and continued on, not caring whether he'd left his prey unconscious or dead. He carried on toward the cells, leaving more bodies in his wake.
Too easy.
The door to Joseph's cell was open. Another mercenary stood just inside with his back to the doorway. Slade hit him over the head and hurled him into the opposing wall. The two other men in the room didn't so much as twitch. One of them stood facing the same way as the first, and the other was standing over a huddled form in the corner, gun raised as though he were frozen in the middle of bringing the butt of it down onto the creature currently shaking on the floor.
Ah, so this is what unbridled rage feels like.
Slade snapped the closer merc's neck and kicked the body aside. Stepping between the final guard and his victim on the floor, Slade snatched the guard's gun from his hands and proceeded to drag him into the hall before bashing his face in with it. The part of Slade still clinging to a shred of self-control would rather Joseph not see that.
Once the merc's head was nothing but a pile of flesh and bloodied bits on the floor, Slade took off his mask and ripped the dead man's shirt to wipe the carnage from it. Clipping the mask to his hip for now, Slade returned to the cell. As he approached the corner, Slade looked at Joseph properly for the first time in years.
The boy had been left dangerously thin and ragged, with nothing but a tattered pair of leggings to protect him from the harsh cold of the cell. He looked far too bruised and sickly for Slade's liking, and he hadn't even seen the boy's face yet. Joseph had tucked himself as far into the corner as possible with shackles weighing him down, shaking hands raised defensively over his head. His curly blond hair was a mess, and- were strands of his hair glowing? Now that Slade wasn't focused on murdering everything in his path, he could see the energy shimmering off of the kid in small, uncontrolled bursts, a frantic whisper on the air.
Stop stop stop stop nonononono stop it stop it STOP-
"Joseph?" Slade called out quietly, kneeling down to the boy's level. The boy flinched and looked up. Slade was surprised to see his eyes completely black, except for the glowing green of his irises. A hint of anger crept into Joseph's panicked expression.
I was wondering when you'd show up. Tired of watching the show?
"What?" Slade tried his best to appear unphased by hearing Joseph "talking" to him in his own head.
I'm not stupid. This is your base. Or did you actually expect me to believe you were dead?
"That's… complicated. I don't have much time to explain. Yes, it's my base, but I'm not the one who's been keeping you here. I came to rescue you."
Liar! You're lying! I won't- I won't play your games! Slade could practically feel Joey trembling as he tried to drag himself further into his corner.
"I'll explain everything later, Joseph. Believe what you want, I don't have time for you to be acting like a child."
Why should I listen to anything you have to say.
"Well, to start, I just killed a lot of people and I'm about to kill a few more. And no one's even paying me to do it."
That is not even close to reassuring.
"I know. I know you're hurting, kiddo. I know you must be scared-"
You didn't care if I was scared before.
Joseph looked away, a hand over the scars on his throat. Slade sighed. He wasn't sure what he expected from their little reunion. That Joseph would run into his open arms, that all would be forgiven, and he could tell him everything was going to be okay? That he could scoop him up and walk out of here like none of this was his fault?
"Just… let me get those damn cuffs off you."
Joseph trembled through the entire process, flinching every so often as though he expected the pieces of metal to retaliate- which, Slade realized, they probably would have if he hadn't cut the power. The one on his throat was particularly difficult to remove. Joseph jolted so violently whenever the collar shifted to press against his throat that Slade eventually gave up and broke the thing off with his hands.
The moment the last of his restraints hit the floor, Joseph was running.
"Slade's alive! He's behind this!" Robin was torn between growling and shouting as he paced in front of the kitchenette. "Slade!"
"Robin," Raven spoke evenly over a cup of herbal tea, "We don't know that for sure. I pushed Jericho too hard-"
"But he's in Jericho's memories! Why would we see it if he isn't connected to this?"
"It doesn't matter," Herald cut in. "What matters is whether it helps us find Jericho."
"Agreed," Starfire said. She was hovering near Robin, arms slightly outstretched toward him in concern.
"No offense, dude." Beast Boy peered at the group over the back of the couch. "But we really don't have time for your freaky obsession with Slade right now."
"Actually," Cyborg cut in from his place at the computers, "That might be exactly what we need."
At the blank looks on the other teens' faced, he continued. "Think about it. Even if Slade's got nothin' to do with this, the guy had outposts all over the city."
Robin's eyes widened behind the mask as he caught on. "Why build a new base to hide him, when someone else left behind places that were already hidden and secure? And with Slade's systems, they'd be able to track our movements, just like Slade."
"Then they'll know if we get close," Raven warned darkly.
"Not if I can teleport us directly inside." Herald stepped forward to look at the map of Jump that Cyborg had pulled up on the screen. "We just need a location."
"It won't be somewhere we've been before-too obvious." Robin had a hand on his chin, brows furrowed, thinking hard. "His connection to the Titans is no secret, they'd at least pick somewhere we don't know about. Not in a well-populated sector, but somewhere where no one would look twice…"
He had no time to check if Slade was following him; he just knew he had to run. Through the meandering hallways, past doors that all looked the same no matter what was behind them, looking for exit signs even though he knew Slade never had them.
Why does everything have to be a maze with you?
Jericho told himself he didn't care if Slade heard that one.
He was beginning to regret running. Maybe he should have let Slade get him out of here, cleaned up and regained some strength before trying to escape. Played along with Slade's game until he found an opportunity to fight back. Instead, he bolted when he had no idea where anything was located, staggering along empty hallways on emaciated legs after being kept utterly helpless for who knows how long.
Of course the next door he tried opened into the last place he wanted to be.
The room was filled with scientists and guards, but all Jericho could see was The Machine. It loomed over him, freezing him with fear even though it sat dark and silent without a power supply. Phantom pain seared across Jericho's skin. He couldn't look away, couldn't keep his legs from collapsing under him. All he could think was not again. Someone behind him shut and locked the door.
He wasn't going back in that thing; they couldn't make him.
There was movement around him. Still, the mute failed to react. His knees were glued to the floor, ears ringing, hands trembling, thoughts a constant stream of no no no that he was probably projecting to everyone in the base.
Then, hands gripped him. A needle began to press into his skin.
NO! GET AWAY!
Jericho couldn't stop the flood of energy that burst from him in a moment of sheer terror. A crack in the dam followed by a shock pushing the needle and its bearers away. Jericho's eyes slammed shut as he tried to stop the power he felt breaking loose, but it was too late. All he could think was that he couldn't go back in The Machine, couldn't take another round of painful "testing."
The power surged out around him, and then there was yelling. Shouts of surprise and screams of agony. Something warm spattered his skin.
Jericho focused on the flood then, on containing the power. He didn't want to look, didn't want to see what it had caused. He almost had it shut down when thick fingers angrily gripped his hair. He could see a flash of green-blue from behind his eyelids, and the rough hands disappeared, followed by a heavy thud.
Cracking his eyes open, Jericho caught sight of a body in a black mercenary uniform beside him, a helmet a few yards away, and a lot of blood in between.
No… no, what did you make me-what did you make me do!?
There were so many bodies. The door burst open behind him, and then Slade was there, and then there were even more bodies. Logically, Jericho knew he should do something. Take his chance and run or perhaps try to help. Instead, he stared blankly at the blood he'd spilt as he dry heaved at the stench of fresh blood.
What did I do? The thought echoed faintly through Jericho's head, too faint for anyone else to hear.
"Joey."
He killed them. He was supposed to be a hero, supposed to help people, and he just… killed them.
"Joseph, I need you to look at me. It's going to be okay."
He killed them. He killed them. He killed them-
"Joseph!" Slade cupped Jericho's face gently in his hands, forcing his gaze away from the carnage around them. "Breathe, Joseph. I've got you. Everything's going to be okay."
Jericho gasped in a shuddering breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Then another, and another. Slade didn't let go until his breathing returned to normal.
We need to destroy that. Jericho nodded to The Machine without looking at it once Slade had moved away.
"I agree," Slade said, moving to the monitors and picking up a file. "But there's someone we need to have a little chat with first." He messed with something on his arm, and the base hummed to life. A few clicks on the monitor later, and the back of The Machine popped open.
Slade unholstered what Jericho could only describe as a very large handgun and Jericho moved to hide behind him. There was a groan from the center of the steam pouring out of The Machine. Cautiously, Jericho peered around Slade to find the mercenary aiming at… a shriveled old man.
Said old man groaned again, stretching himself out with a series of "pops" before turning a sickly green glowing gaze toward them.
A green exactly like the glow that had been radiating off of Jericho.
"Who dares disturb Odysseus?" the old man thundered.
Slade cocked the gun. "I don't know what you did to get out of hell, old man, but you're going right back."
"Ah, my poor, misguided son," Odysseus growled back. "And who is that you have with you? Come to me, child. Let Odysseus teach you to control that power of yours."
Slade took a step forward, planting himself more firmly between Jericho and Odysseus.
"Uh-uh. You don't get to speak to him, you don't even get to look at him. Your little stunt is over, you twisted old-"
"You dare-"
Slade cut Odysseus off with two shots to the chest, followed by a shot to the eye. He spat at the body before turning back to find Jericho swaying on his feet.
Jericho felt a shock of energy as Odysseus fell, leaving him lightheaded and nauseous. Slade caught him as he pitched forward, and the contact was enough to send a flash of energy radiating from the boy, rendering everyone unconscious.
The eerie silence hanging over the base was split by the sounding of a trumpet. A circular portal opened wide to admit six teenagers ready for a fight, only to find themselves in a large, still room filled with destroyed machinery and motionless bodies.
The portal slid closed behind them, leaving the room dimmer than before. The Titans spread out, searching for anyone left alive. Jericho was nowhere to be found.
Raven broke the silence. "Guys? You're going to want to see this."
Robin caught sight of a familiar flash of orange and rushed over. His hands clenched into fists as the Boy Wonder stood over the unconscious form of the one person left alive in this base.
"Slade."