Chapter Text
The door of the studio banged against the wall, interrupting the conversations of the people in front and behind the glass had been partaking in. Jason trembled as he walked, the fury emanated from his frame as well as from his eyes. His breathing was heavy and his eyes flashed a toxic glowing green every few seconds. He looked like he could walk up to the reigning MMA champion and tear him limb from limb; like he could rip the walls of the building down with his bare hands.
The sudden peak of the views the live broadcast of Outlaws Studios had was crazy . The technicians went on to start with the commercials and get them off the air, but the Outlaws Manager stopped them. This was raw, and with their public and their branding, it had potential. Their audience would appreciate it. Manager just warned the techs to be fully at the ready with the beep button for all the cursing sure to follow.
“...JJ, you okay?” asked Eddie, fidgeting with the bass. Roy and Kori winced. It was unexpected to see Jason so angry before a performance, but he and all of them had their triggers. They were just grateful Jay had remembered to put on the modified domino mask, even if the lenses weren’t covering his eyes right now.
Jason’s grin was savage . The camera men shivered a little at the sight of it, even while they made a good close up.
“Oh, yeah! Fucking peachy . Same as the Golden Boy who just tried to convince me that I am overreacting at my father’s attempted murder. Because apparently, since I didn’t die, it doesn’t fucking count! ” he screamed.
“Oh, shit. He said that?” asked Roy, turning his trucker hat around nervously.
“Yeah, he fucking did.”
“You want to do this another day?” asked Manager, who was behind the glass, checking the ratings. He didn’t want to stop this, but he would if JJ needed to. Even if the numbers kept increasing, and the five phones available kept ringing non-stop, making the operators scramble to try and write down as many questions as possible.
“ Hell no . I need an outlet, and this will do just fucking fine .” With that, he finally stomped over to the platform in the studio and grabbed the mic. The rest of the band scrambled to follow him. “For those of you who don’t know, the Golden fuck Boy -pun very much intended- is Nightwing. First Robin and forever Batman’s asslicker of a pupil. The golden standar that inspired a trail of brightly colored sidekicks for the incredibly negligent “hero community”. Batman’s perfect soldier, willing to do anything and everything. Batman’s perfect little soldier, and biggest mistake. Because guess what, people!? Children aren’t soldiers! ” he yelled at the microphone. “Children are children, and should be protected! The fact that Batman managed to brainwash the entirety of the Justice League to use kids against adult super powered individuals is baffling to me. It should be baffling to everyone! If you want to “sacrifice” your life to fight evil with spandex and a superiority complex, be my fucking guest; but gaslighting kids into doing your sacrifices for you is repugnant and the fact that these are the leaders of morality in our planet is fucking laughable.”
Jason looked back to his band to see if they were ready and they nodded.
“I’d say sorry for the screaming, guys, but this song is exactly as loud as it has to be.” With that, a recording of different audio tracks filled the studio. They were fragments of well known interviews and press conferences with the Justice League and other governmental entities working with them.
“- Have you ever given any thought to the fate of your children-
-We've made good progress-
-Slowly but surely achieving our objective- “
Those phrases, repeated over and over again on their TV’s and radios, losing all meaning the more trite they became. When they faded out, Jason started. This song would drain him, as the hurt and rage poured out of him, but it was those sentiments this song needed.
“LIAR
Slipped from the tongue
Like the breath of a prophet
Cloaked in blood
Kissed with a bomb from the heart of flawless number one ”
Jason remembered when the faith he had in his father threatened to choke him, despite his best efforts. How wanting to believe that someone cared (about him, about his people, about his city) made him blind to all the flaws hidden just beneath the surface. How his love was nurtured just enough to make him desperate for recognition, praise, affection, obedience .
In a home that's broken and silent
The truth will not be heard
In the forceful roar of a tyrant
Freedom is a loaded word ”
Jason thought of all the times he swallowed his tongue, out of respect, out of faith , when he didn’t agree with the responses of Wayne, or the lack of involvement from the Justice League. When entire orphanages (filled with kids whose parents were victims of the same criminals that aimed at them now) were razed to the ground by the villain of the week and the only thing they did is what they continue to do: slap on the wrist and a cozy breakable cell and called it a good job.
“ Compliance
This morbid code
Leaves the carcass a feast for
The corrupt where power is love
Blind allegiance warmly smiled upon ”
Power is love, and nothing is more powerful than a child wanting their parents or hero's love. It’s a secret passage into someone’s heart, even years after. It's a crack set in stone, easily accessible to those that know how. And Wayne always knows how. How to reach inside and scoop the tender, bruised remains of his heart, and squish them again. Sending Dick was a low, low blow. Mainly because Jason was stupid enough to believe, for a single moment, that his not-brother-not-mentor might agree with him. Might actually see him, and not the smudged picture Batman painted out of him; mocking the years his little self had spent chipping away at his own soul on Batman’s command. And that single moment was all that was needed to pierce the fragile skin over the barely healed scar of betrayal and make it bleed again. Wayne would pay for that.
“When the meaning fails to be objectified
To be objectified
Their lies
Will stare back at you from the other side
From the other side
Beggars
Choose your fate”
The Outlaws had already decided their fate. Eddie, Roy, Kori, him…they made their informed, adult decision. To put under scrutiny the whole community they dedicated their childhoods to. To do it in a way they couldn’t be silenced: still under masks, not outing their identities but holding them hostage. The heroes could talk all they wanted about stopping them, but they couldn’t bring them down without shooting themselves in the face too. If they disappeared, people would notice , people would care . And they would start asking questions .
Any attempts at erasing their work from the collective memories of the population were in vain, with the rise of the Internet as it was. With their concerts and interviews (censored, of course) going around the news channels as well as the music ones at least once a day, the others had no way of hiding.
“ Liar! Liar!! Liar!!!! LIAR!!!! ”
At last, the spider web of lies had begun unweaving. And Jason couldn’t wait until its thread would choke them all.