Chapter Text
Dick looked up at the sky again; the sun was beating down hard, and he had hesitated to come dressed only in his blue chiton, now he had no regrets about adding a chlamys draped over his shoulders and around his head to protect him from the sun. He could see the large vulture-like Skydrivers circling about two hundred yards away, likely waiting to swoop down on some unfortunate creature on the parched ground below. Skydrivers were massive fire-breathing birds with wingspans of two meters. Fortunately, they tended to steer clear of the kingdom. Still, the unrelenting sun was making the wait feel unbearable for Dick and his men. They were getting impatient - Slade was never late, but Dick had already been waiting for seventeen minutes already. Dick could hear Damian’s voice in his head, telling him that one day King Jason of Outlaws would betray them; maybe that day had come, maybe Slade was plotting a coup, and by now war had been declared against Gotham while Dick and his men waited less and less patiently in the desert under the dry heat. But there was no strategic logic to this; Dick was not a warrior, and he was accompanied by only a few men, so there would be little point in launching an attack now, after getting rid of Dick only. Unless Slade wanted to protect him and had arranged with Jason that Dick would not be present during the massacre of his kingdom...
Dick shook his head. He couldn't think about that. Not about Slade betraying him, not about a possible war. He tried to calm his heart; he turned and gave his men a warm, sympathetic smile; twenty minutes under this blazing sun, if Slade wasn't here in five minutes then Dick would have to postpone the meeting, he didn't want to weaken his men unnecessarily. Bruce would be disappointed; they desperately needed the medicine Jason provided, but the postponement would be short-lived, for Jason needed Bruce's rare commodity even more: water. Unless he was being set up, it was clearly not in Jason's, or in this case Slade's, best interest to be late.
Finally, Dick heard the engine in the distance, a recognizable sound typical of the mechanics used in Outlaws. He heard his men sigh with relief. When Slade's car finally reached them and Slade got out of the passenger seat, he paid no attention to the rest of his men who were beginning to unload the cargo, and went straight for Dick. Slade was not expressive by nature, never wishing to betray his moods or give clues to his adversaries, but for some years now he had been much more transparent in front of Dick, letting the features of his face show his concern.
Dick rolled his eyes, still grinning. "That's okay, it wasn't that long, but you better have a good excuse."
Slade was only about ten centimeters away, far too close for casual conversation, but the men around him had long since gotten used to it, and he paid them no mind. Slade grabbed Dick's hand and squeezed it, seemingly with no intention of letting go. "Sorry, a Skydriver attacked the Citadel, some fool stole one of his eggs and brought it back to Outlaws."
Dick's gaze shifted directly to concern. "My God, are you all right? Not too much damage? Were you able to kill it?"
Slade grinned and answered Dick in a dismissive tone. "Oh yeah, we killed it. The Skydriver and the thieving idiot who got us into this mess."
Dick frowned; Slade knew he would react that way, Dick always believed in second chances and forgiveness. Slade would like to say that in these times of need, there was no time to deal with incompetents who endangered the Citadel, but in his time with Dick he had learned to appreciate that. He knew that many of the men who had worked or are still working with Dick on the Exportation had been people who had made mistakes in the past, people who would have been killed in Outlaws already, but not in Gotham. Dick had helped and rehabilitated as part of his team. They were all very devoted to Dick, and the young man's heart was part of his charm; without it, he would have been a different person, and Slade may never have fallen for him.
Before Dick could speak, one of his men approached. "The cargo is loaded, we'd better not be late, before your brothers worry."
"Alright. Yes, let's not delay our return even more, they get worried so easily..." Dick turned back to Slade. "We haven't had much time together today... I was so looking forward to seeing you. I... I miss you."
Dick stood on tiptoe and hugged Slade, putting his face in the hollow of his neck. Slade closed his eyes and hugged him tightly. Neither of them wanted to let go, but they knew it couldn't last. Slade stroked his hair and kissed his temple. "I miss you too."
They parted and Dick began to turn, ready to leave, and again Slade couldn't help but grab his hand at the last second. "I love you. Take care of yourself, don’t get in danger."
Even the reflection of the moon and stars in the ocean would be jealous of Dick's eyes. For Slade, there was nothing more beautiful than seeing Dick's eyes shine and crinkle with happiness. "I love you too." But in a second, a more mischievous grin appeared on his face. "Oh, and I lied: the waiting got a bit long, so the guys and I ended up needing to hydrate and we may have dipped into your water supply a little bit; hope you don’t mind."
Dick chuckled and Slade couldn't help but smile. He watched as Dick got into the car and drove off into the distance.
"Sir, it's time to go. Our King was upset enough about the accident earlier, we'd better get back quickly, it will appease him to know our water supplies have arrived safely."
***
Damian paced. It would take twenty-five minutes to reach the rendezvous point, only a few minutes to load the cargo, and twenty-five minutes to return. It had never taken more than an hour. Had Dick been ambushed? Was he in danger, had he been captured? They'd spotted a suspicious group of bandits hanging around for a few weeks, probably interested in their water source, one of the few water holes more than a hundred kilometers away. Or did King Jason have something to do with it? Damian turned to see his brother, King Bruce, deep in discussion with one of his right-hand men, Alfred. A disease had recently struck some of their crops; they had reacted in time to prevent the disease from spreading, thus saving a large part of their future harvest, but now they had to consider how to compensate for this lack of food, or rather, rationalize it. Bruce didn't like asking his people to tighten their belts, and Damian knew Alfred was doing his best to find an alternative.
Bruce was distracted, and both Alfred and Damian could see it. Dick still hadn't returned.
From an early age, Damian had been passionate about weapons and combat in general. He had spent the week taking stock of the new group of bandits’ weaponry in preparation for the attack that was sure to come. His biggest concern was that this new group would side with King Jason. They were well aware of Jason's methods of fighting and Damian knew he could fight back and defend Gotham from Outlaws. But who knew what those new strangers could be hiding? Damian felt confident fighting Outlaws, but if the two became allies, it could be dangerous for them.
Dick, for his part, had always preferred to escape his responsibilities when he was younger. He would run away at the slightest inattention from the tutors Bruce employed, preferring to roam outside the kingdom's walls, much to Bruce's dismay. When Dick was twelve, the previous king's brother, Bruce's uncle, convinced their parents to let Dick go with him outside Gotham for a few years. Damian still had no idea how he'd managed to convince them, but Dick didn’t come back until he was eighteen. Bruce knew his brother needed to be out and about, and upon his return, the King and Queen had agreed that Dick would handle the Exportation, mostly between their kingdom and Jason's, as well as longer trips to more distant lands to gather food that didn't grow locally. Dick knew the area well by now. Bruce had learned very quickly that if he forbade Dick to go out, he would do so in secret, and that would be the most dangerous thing of all. At least by giving him the opportunity to do this job, Dick would be accompanied, and that was more reassuring to him.
Even if Bruce would have preferred that Dick never set foot outside the walls again.
The door opened. "My king, they're back!"
A sigh of relief escaped Bruce's lips and the tension in the room vanished. Damian had already begun planning all the different strategies he would have to use against Jason if he had pulled a fast one on them. Bruce was trying to keep the peace between the two kingdoms, but Damian wasn't fooled; he was expecting the worst, and unlike Bruce, he wasn't blind. He knew it was coming.
The crates full of vials were being unloaded when Bruce and Damian arrived in front of the main doors of the Citadel. Dick turned to them as he saw his men bowing to their King and gave them a big wave.
"Sorry for the wait! Timothy's been doing wonders! Thanks to the samples of the new disease we gave him, he's been able to research different strategies to get rid of it, and he's provided us with a cure. Here’s his report."
Dick handed Bruce a file. Damian was still skeptical about giving Outlaws evidence of a weakness in Gotham, but Bruce never seemed to mind. They'd managed to eradicate this disease on their own; they could do it again if they had to. Dick turned to him and ruffled his hair. "I know what you're thinking; baby bro. Don't forget that it's very kind of them to do this; if Timothy makes a mistake, they risk contaminating their own crops."
Damian rolled his eyes. He knew that, but it was his job to be suspicious. Bruce looked up from the file. "We'll have to thank them next time. I'll take this to our farmers, Timothy found what caused the disease to appear."
"Another new disgusting bug? I hope not."
"No, not this time."
"Thank God, I'd rather fight a thousand men armed to the teeth than insects; men can't hide in microscopic crevices. At least not if they're in one piece."
Dick smiled, half disgusted, half amused; the last pandemic had indeed been a real ordeal. Damian turned to him. "Any suspicious behavior? Why were they late?”
"No, little brother, no suspicious behavior. They had a problem with a Skydriver."
"Do you have any proof that this isn't a lie?"
"None. Do you want me to ask them for the carcass next time, so we can analyze it and confirm that it died today?"
"Yes, that would be - Wait. You're messing with me, aren't you?"
Dick couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Damian, I'm not going to ask them to bring me back a stinky Skydriver carcass, ew. Everything was fine, don't worry."
Damian crossed his arms, his face threatening. "Don't let your guard down, you're too close to this Slade guy and that's not a good idea. If anything, it's to manipulate us better. Dick, be serious-"
Dick cut him off. "I'm serious, none of Slade's men showed any signs of stress, no shifty looks, no change in attitude. There was no hint that something was fishy. And Slade-"
"You can't trust him."
Dick sighed. "Slade was no different either."
"Are you sure? He's good at hiding his game."
"Yes. Come on, let's go home, I've been out in the sun for too much time, I was so bored, I’m hungry now."
***
Tim rummaged through his box for the third time in his lab. It was in there somewhere, but where? He couldn't keep losing his concoctions just because he was too tired to remember where he put them. Ah. There it was.
"Tim!"
Tim gasped, almost dropping the vial on the floor. He turned sharply, trying to hide his panic. "Yes?"
Roy was standing in front of him, a large egg in his arms. "You were running out of material, weren't you? Here's the egg, they'll finish slaughtering the Skydriver and you'll be able to fill your pots again with whatever is left of it."
Tim had heard what was happening outside. He hadn't gone out to see, but the news had spread within minutes. Skydrivers were a hassle to kill because of their fire breath, so Outlaws rarely went out of their way to cause them trouble, but when supplies were low, they had to go hunting one of them anyway. With this one coming directly to the kingdom, Tim could get the materials he needed from the big bird today.
His only passion in life was to mix, to understand, to create. Every new disease, every new discovery was a new challenge, and Tim loved it. They were fortunate to live in a kingdom that had many useful herbs and minerals underground for his concoctions. With what became of Earth, evolution had wiped out almost all living things, but life always found its way, and new plants were born; the Ancients had not chosen this place to establish their kingdom for no reason. Water was further away, in Gotham, but without the plants native to Outlaws to save the day, the two kingdoms would have probably died long ago. It took about a hundred years for the two kingdoms to finally join forces and share their resources. One would have thought that the presence of water in the other kingdom would have been more conducive to vegetation, but there were only weeds in Gotham, and none of the plants around Outlaws were able to grow there. They had tried for generations.
Even if they were at peace, that didn't stop Tim from creating all kinds of concoctions; if a flower could save, another one could kill. They had a considerable supply of all kinds of poisons that King Jason had asked for. Even if the King hadn't ordered him to create them, Tim would have made them anyway, to satisfy his need to know everything about the possibilities and opportunities around him. But the quantities asked by the King were big; you'd think he was preparing for war.
"Thank you. This is for King Jason, it’s what he asked for." Tim handed Roy a vial. "It’s a new recipe, I made a bit of modification. He has to let me know if it works better than the previous ones, or if I need to make any changes or not. At the slightest negative sign, you come to me right away. And above all, as always, tell him to use it sparingly. No excess. Here’s the instruction he has to follow."
Roy laughed. "Yes, because the King and moderation are best friends, we all know that."
"I'm not kidding. His pain will get worse if he doesn't follow my prescriptions. If I have to get out of here and scold him, I will, King or not."
"Don't worry, I'll be watching him."
So, back to work, where had Tim put this damn jar again...?
***
Jason moved away from the ramparts where the Skydriver had finally died. They had found the egg thief, the culprit behind all the trouble, and Jason had ordered him to be burned at the stake right away. They'd lost several dwellings that would take a long time to rebuild; fortunately, nothing major had been destroyed. A small section of the Citadel’s protective wall fell under the weight of the beast, but nothing serious. It would have been an absolute disaster if Tim's laboratory and supplies were destroyed.
Jason chuckled; he was sure that Tim hadn't flinched at all during the attack, not knowing how close he had come to losing his lab.
As a King, he and his fighters had participated in the fall of the Skydriver. A bad landing had injured his right heel, but nothing serious, he'd just fallen a little too quickly onto a surface that hadn't allowed him to stabilize and control his fall. That was why he preferred Sandeaters; at least they didn't fly nor breathe fire. They were charming creatures, resembling large, bald, emaciated wolves, with long fangs and sharp claws. Charming only according to Jason, of course.
His headache was getting worse; he just wanted to go home.
He could hear the egg thief's pleas in the distance, but he didn't care, and neither did his people. The man would be dead within minutes. It was a fitting end for a man guilty of burning down several dwellings. Jason felt generous; he even allowed those who had lost their homes to light the murderous flame. With the safety of his people at stake, he could not allow a thief to roam the streets of the Citadel.
When he finally returned to his palace, Roy was waiting for him, stamping his feet. "My King! I have what you asked for."
Thank God. When Jason was fifteen, his parents were murdered by Gotham King and Queen’s orders, Bruce’s parents, and Jason had suffered a blow that should have been fatal; but he survived, and from this day a throbbing pain pierced his head from time to time, lasting between a few days to a few weeks. Before Tim's medication, during the first years, the pain sometimes lasted several months. It wasn't a time Jason wanted to remember, but there had been many times when he'd almost given up, just wanting to end his life and finally be free of pain. In a way, Tim had saved his life; thanks to him, the headaches never lasted that long anymore and the pain had diminished considerably. A week ago the pain reappeared, and because of the fight with the Skydriver this morning, he had failed to take his medicine on time a few hours ago.
Jason took the vial from his hand. "Thank you, Roy."
"New recipe, here’s the paper Tim gave me. Be careful with the dosage-"
"I know."
Roy watched as Jason took a glass and poured a few drops of the stuff into some water, eyeing the instructions; Roy'd never tasted the stuff, but from the look on Jason's face every time, it must have been absolutely disgusting. Jason had tried to take it straight once without water, thinking it would work faster like that, but that was against Tim's instructions, and Jason had ended up throwing up all night. Since then, Roy knew that Jason followed Tim's instructions to the letter.
It would take another half hour for the product to take full effect. The pain was still bearable, but without Tim's remedy, Jason would have been prostrate in bed, crying his eyes out for the pain to stop. You never got used to it, and you always forgot how much it hurt until it came back.
The King's condition was known to only a few people, namely Tim, Roy, and Slade. Jason always made sure that his people, or worse, the people of Gotham and their King, never knew about his condition. Because of the pain, he was known to throw tantrums and be very moody, but no one seemed to suspect anything. He often regretted the rash decisions he'd made during his bouts of pain, but it was so hard to stay in control and be level-headed when he felt like his head was about to explode. His men knew his anger and mood swings weren't personal and they never held it against him; Jason fought at their side and for them, even if his sanity was questionable at times.
There was never any proof that his parents had died because of the kingdom of Gotham, but Jason was sure of it. The disappearance of the King of Gotham's right-hand man a few days after their death couldn’t be plain coincidence, and it was no secret that Gotham wanted to take control of Outlaws at the time. They'd made it look like an accident, but Jason wasn't fooled. Sadly, Bruce's parents died of a disease a few years later, but Jason vowed that one day he'd get his revenge. He stockpiled the poisons created by Tim, intending to use them to grind Gotham to a pulp. Everything had been calculated in the design and selection of the poisons; smooth, odorless, slow to be detected. They can be easily confused with the original healthy drugs, and undetectable to the untrained eye. When the symptoms appear, which would take several weeks, there would be no vaccine. One hundred percent mortality. And the poisons were to be delivered to Gotham today if all went well. Jason was just waiting for Slade’s return.
***
Slade entered the kingdom grounds, ordered his men to deliver the water barrels, and headed for the palace. After a few minutes, he reached it and climbed the few steps. He could see Jason and Roy a few steps away. "My king, the delivery went off without a hitch."
"Perfect." There was a sly smile on Jason's face but his eyes seemed to be filled with doubt, and Slade sensed danger. He kept his tone as neutral as possible.
"Something seems to be bothering you. Any news?"
"No, no. Maybe we’ll get some good news soon, who knows."
Slade didn't insist so as not to arouse suspicion. He didn't usually get involved in conflicts between the two kingdoms, and to want to know more would be far too suspicious.
Slade sat with Jason and Roy for a few dozen minutes, chatting. It was hard for him to concentrate; he was not going to sit back and do nothing when Jason still looked full of obvious inner turmoil. His King was hiding something. Did something change with the drugs they were delivering to Gotham? Slade knew Jason still wanted revenge on Bruce. Poison was a typical Outlaws weapon, but until now, Slade had thought that Jason's revenge was only against Bruce, not the whole kingdom. Was it possible that by not worrying about the rift between Gotham and the Outlaws, he'd overlooked the fact that Jason was planning something against all of Gotham? Or maybe Bruce had simply ordered something specifically for himself, and Jason had jumped at the chance to finally kill him.
Slade had no doubt that Tim was capable of creating a poison so undetectable that Gotham would never be able to pin the crime on Outlaws. Slade had to get to Tim. He didn't care if Bruce died, but he was Dick's brother, and if Bruce died, Dick would have to take the throne.
Slade knew that Dick had absolutely no desire to do that; he preferred to walk in the Citadel’s streets, in contact with the people, or outside the walls, putting himself in danger. Slade also knew that if something happened to Bruce, he wouldn't want to leave Dick mourning alone; he'd want to be there for him, but because he was from Outlaws, he was not allowed to stay and live in Gotham. Those were the rules.
Most importantly, once Bruce was dead, Slade had to make sure Jason didn't continue his vendetta against Bruce's brothers. He could kill all of Gotham if he wanted to, but Slade would not let his bird die.
Once outside, a young girl leaped into his arms. "Daddy! Did you bring me a souvenir?"
"Not this time, Rosie. You know, if I brought you a souvenir from Gotham every time, we wouldn't even be able to open the front door of the house. Your room is messy enough as it is."
Rose pouted. "But I love those clay figurines they make, you know that! It sucks we can't make them with our grounds. Yes, I know, we have flowers and plants, and minerals… But I like their figurines more!"
Slade smiled. When Dick had found out he had a daughter, he'd brought her a Gotham specialty the following week: those famous terra-cotta figures and Rose had fallen in love with them. Since then, Rose's collection has grown year by year, and she now owned nearly thirty of them, all different. It's a good thing they were small, or Slade would have had to put an end to her obsession much sooner.
"Did Grant find what he was looking for?"
"Yes, at least I think so: he seemed to be in a good mood, which is rare enough to be a good sign, I think. He doesn't want to play with me anymore, he says he's too big for that. You adults are boring."
"And to think that last time you accused me of treating you like a child. Being a teenager suits you. I have to go to Tim-"
"What, already?"
"Yes. It's very important."
"But you promised me that we could get Joey’s birthday today!"
"I know, Rosie. But I really have to take care of this problem first."
Rose was angry; her father always had excuses to do something else. "I hope I never grow up to be like you." She stuck her tongue out at him and walked away.
Slade knew that her anger would pass. He would try his best to be with her later in the afternoon, but for now, he really needed to calm his fears; Dick's life was at stake.
When he had first met Dick, he had never thought that he would become such an important person to him. To Slade, only his children mattered; it had been that way ever since his wife had run away from Outlaws with a traveling group and never looked back. He'd sworn never to let anyone into his heart again, especially not someone from Gotham. Least of all the King’s brother. They'd met when Dick began leading the Exportation sector between the two Citadels after returning from the outside world. In those days, Slade was rarely the one to accompany and oversee deliveries, but the ray of sunshine that had greeted him that day, with his gentle smile and personality, and sparkling eyes even brighter than the burning sun above their heads, had charmed him enough to decide, in time, to take over the Exportation and became its headman. Dick was actually much more serious than his demeanor suggested, but he had that ease and kindness with people that had touched Slade.
It took Slade about a year to learn that he was the King's brother. He knew Dick spent time outside the walls in the Wastelands for a few years and had returned when his uncle fell ill and died shortly after their return to Gotham, but Dick had never implied anything else about his family. Official meetings between the two Citadels were rare, occurring only once a year, and Slade had no recollection of Bruce having two brothers; he only vaguely remembered the younger one. It was during a meeting that happened after Dick’s return that he saw the young man from Exportation at the King's side. Slade almost turned back at that point; he had no intention of starting a war between the two kingdoms just because he was interested in the King's brother. That would have put his children in danger, and who knew what King Bruce might do to an unworthy suitor like Slade? Kings were fools, Slade had learned over time. After that, he took a step back from his Exportation work for a few months, letting his men handle it.
It was only when Joey told him he looked wretched and that his children were growing worried for him that he finally took action. The following week, he regained control of the Exportation and found himself face-to-face with Dick in the middle of the desert. In his defense, Dick looked sheepish; he was much more shy, with a hint of guilt in his eyes. It wasn't that he was trying to hide who he was – well, just a bit, but mostly, he didn't care about being a Prince. It held no value in his eyes. But from Slade's reaction when he'd seen him at the meeting, from the way Slade had ignored him the whole time, and from the way he'd disappeared from his job right after that, Dick knew he'd made a big mistake. He learned about Slade's worry for his family and admitted that he hadn't realized how much Slade had panicked. But Dick couldn't imagine Bruce trying to kill Slade for courting Dick, let alone killing children. But in the opposite situation, Dick would have been afraid of reprisals, too, so he could understand.
No more secrets, that was their rule.
***
Tim had finally fallen asleep, his head on his research paper. It took him several minutes to realize that the sound he heard disturbing his sleep was actually coming from the door; someone was knocking. He rubbed his face to wake up; what time was it?
"Yes, come in!"
Slade walked through the door. He was still in his outdoor gear, which meant he'd just returned from the Exchange; Tim must have fallen asleep just minutes after Roy left, and for a short time at that. It was very rare for him to have Slade's company, and that tipped Tim off. If Slade was there, something was wrong.
"Is the King all right?" Tim was sure he'd given the right vial. He hadn't made a mistake either, he was certain of it. Was the new dose not strong enough? Strictly speaking, Jason's situation had never gotten worse, but they were not immune to major crises. Had there been a problem with the cargo and the medicine? Tim began to panic; Slade's face seemed impassive, but his presence didn't bode well. Tim just hoped he wouldn't have his head cut off before the end of the day, or worse, burned at the stake. If he'd made a mistake, he hoped his knowledge was important enough to the Citadel to warrant a pardon.
"Sorry to disturb you, Timothy. It's about that research you've been doing for a while."
Tim narrowed his eyes; he was doing so much different research that he had no idea what Slade was talking about, but at least he didn't seem to be in any danger, and the tension eased from his shoulders. "Which ones?"
"Poisons. I know it's your job to figure out all the ways we can use our resources, and you've created a lot of different ones, but I was wondering how it's going, or where the supplies are kept."
Outlaws was famous for defending itself with poisons, but it wasn’t worldwide known how many of them they made. The question was, if Tim answered, would he reveal too much information to Slade and betray Jason, or was Slade interested in the toxins on a personal level? Tim couldn't imagine him deciding to poison someone of his own free will, but he could see it as a possibility if something had happened to one of his children. But Roy would have told him if one of the kids got hurt, wouldn't he? Nobody wanted to mess with Slade.
Tim was confused, he was taking a big risk by bringing it up, but this was Slade. Slade had always been devoted to Jason and the Citadel, and Tim had never witnessed any misplaced animosity from him. But Tim preferred his lab to people, and if Slade had decided to betray them, Tim was sure no one would have noticed it in time. On the other hand, if Slade was planning to just poison someone out of revenge, he wouldn't have come straight to Tim, it was too suspicious and Tim would be a witness, and for a simple revenge, Tim didn't think Slade would be willing to kill Tim because he knew too much and was too valuable to Outlaws. Maybe Slade was sure that Tim would keep his mouth shut, and maybe Slade was right. Unless it was poisoning the King himself? Tim blinked. Focus. "What exactly is your question?"
Slade's lips curled into a thin line, and it was probably the most expressive Tim had ever seen him make, except when he was with his kids and Jason. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. If you know, I'll find out quickly. How much poison do we have in reserve, is there something planned with it? Did the King tell you about any illness Bruce has had or anything that would indicate to you that he's fomenting a plan to poison Gotham?"
Tim was stunned, he hadn't expected this. He also knew that since it seemed important to Slade, if he really wanted the answers, Tim was in for a rough time. Tim weighed the pros and cons and made a quick decision. Slade seemed to think Jason was planning a coup against Gotham, and that wouldn't do Tim any good; he needed his lab and his plants, and he certainly didn't need to be a prisoner if Jason's plan went awry. He'd rather keep his peace with the Exchange between the two Citadels than risk losing everything.
"I have about fifteen different poisons, some are only against crops, others only affect animals, others are lethal to humans, some work at the speed of light, and others kill you slowly over several weeks. Some have antidotes, some don't. For several years now, the King has asked me to make a list of them and to collect several crates of each. He said it was to prevent an attack, so we could defend ourselves. I found this strange because very few people have access to plants. Most of our enemies are nomadic and wouldn't be able to defend themselves against our poisons or find antidotes quickly enough if we didn't supply them, so I thought the quantities the King asked were a bit large."
Slade closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Can I see the crates?"
Tim grimaced. "I'm not sure I'm allowed to–"
"Please."
If being polite was enough to get what you wanted, you'd know it. But again, Tim was anxious, not about what Slade was up to, but about what made Slade worry. Tim stared at him for a few seconds, then relented.
The poisons were kept in a different room than the other products. "Very well. Follow me. I'm going to ask you to close your eyes, I change the password regularly and I've just gotten used to this one, no way I'm changing it again so soon."
Slade chuckled and obeyed. Incredible things were happening today.
When Tim entered the room, he noticed that something was wrong; he might have looked like a messy boy at first glance, but everything was organized. Somehow. And some boxes were missing. That was obvious. When did this happen? Tim thought quickly; he'd changed the password a week ago and everything was still there. Tim spent the week on Jason’s new treatment and didn’t enter the room at all. Boxes were missing, either someone had gotten in without breaking the security system, or the person knew the password. Tim never kept any written proof of the password, and only two people knew it, him and King Jason.
Tim turned to Slade, unable to hide his surprise, and Slade swore. Slade had never entered the room before, but Tim's expression clearly indicated that something was wrong. "Tim, this is very important, who else knows about the poisons, has Jason been acting strange lately? Did you really know nothing?"
"No! I... Crap... I almost never leave this place, I would have seen someone walking by with boxes in their arms! But a week ago I had to leave for a few hours, the King wasn't feeling well and I went to the palace, that’s why I’ve been working on a new treatment until today. But it was only for two hours and the King was with me, only the two of us know the password–"
"Not anymore. A week ago, you said? Could it be that the King is substituting poisons for the medicines normally sent to Gotham? Which ones are missing?"
Tim looked around the room, but it was no use, he knew exactly which ones he was missing, and he knew Slade did too. "The ones without antidotes that take several weeks to kill. And I’m missing more than a few crates…"
Slade swore again, and Tim had never seen him so panicked. "Damn it, Jason. What the hell are you doing?!" He started to run for the exit, but Tim stopped him.
"Wait! What are you doing? What's the plan?"
"I'm going to see if Roy knows anything about it. Jason couldn't have transported the drugs while he was with you. Someone did it for him, and I need to find that person to get the proof out of them. Without proof, I risk escalating things drastically if this is all just a misunderstanding."
"I doubt it’s a misunderstanding..."
"Me too, but I need proof. After how long does the poison become one hundred percent lethal? You said it was slow-acting. I think Jason wants to kill Gotham slowly so there won't be any revolt. I’m also certain he doesn’t want our people to learn the truth, and that’s why he’s doing it slyly. Like Gotham dying was not because of Outlaws."
"If the poisons were in the cargo that arrived today, it should be okay. Gotham always has some supplies in advance, so they won't use the new crates for a few days. But the crates should last them several weeks, and by then it would be fatal for all of them. It's not just medicine; some of them are, or should have been, pills that everyone takes every day to make up for deficiencies, just like we do. If we’re unlucky and it begins spreading today, it would be harmful to the body but it doesn't leave any after-effects if you take it in any form for only a day or two, and then stops. Basically, the body can't get rid of the poison fast enough, and it builds up over the days if you keep taking it. After a week of accumulation, the dose in the body becomes lethal for children, you add a few more days for adults, but there are still no symptoms, and you have to wait another week before you see the first symptoms, but by then you're already doomed, there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. It's a very insidious poison."
Slade rubbed his temples. If he had paid more attention to Tim's research earlier, he would have realized that what Jason wanted wasn't defensive at all. If you want to poison a wandering enemy who's attacking you, you throw something directly lethal at them, you don’t go for discretion and slowness.
Tim bit his lip. "I should have... Sorry, I obeyed, and even though it looked suspicious, I never questioned the orders. I've been working on this for several years now, so I guess I was just fooling myself that it would never be used."
"What's done is done, I have my faults too, I should have been more careful. I didn't think Jason would act, and maybe out of ego, I didn't think he would do it without warning me first.”
Slade had always considered himself close to Jason. Slade knew that if Roy had anything to do with this, it would be written all over his face; he wasn't the kind of person who could send over two hundred people to their deaths without blinking an eye. Slade knew that, and so did Jason; someone else had to be involved. But why hadn't Jason told Slade? Slade had never been more lenient with their enemies than Jason, and he was sure that Jason trusted him.
Slade thought of Dick. Even if Jason knew of Slade's affection for the Prince, no one would think Slade would refuse an order from his King to protect a Gothamite. The traitors Slade'd had in his ranks were no longer to be spoken of; they'd been comrades-in-arms, fighters at his side, men with whom Slade had shared drinks during their hunts out of the Citadel. And Slade hadn't hesitated a second to kill them when they became problems. Even if those in the know had prattled on his relationship with Dick, Jason wouldn't have paid it much attention, unable to see Dick as an obstacle between Slade and his loyalty to Outlaws.
And yet Slade had been in the dark about Jason's deathly plan.
***
Roy was tired. He had planned to start his day with a nap in one of his hideaways in the Citadel, pretend to work a little, go to the market, and then work quietly on a new type of arrow he was making; he had had an inspiration and was eager to put it into practice. But instead, his day started with a Skydriver, continued with a detour to Tim's, a meal, and now he was on duty to repair the damage to the wall and houses. Not that he was really complaining; most of the Citadel had already taken up the task. But he had other plans for the day.
As Slade approached, Roy realized that his day wasn't over yet. He was about to make a joke, but Slade's graded expression was all wrong. "Slade, what's going on?"
"Has the king been in contact with anyone lately? You're at the palace a lot these days, has anyone in particular been here a few times lately? Anyone new?"
Roy thought; far too many people came to the palace. With a population of just over two hundred, most people had been to the Palace at least once for one reason or another. Has anyone come more than once recently? Yes, several.
"Artemis has been here a few times, I think they're trying to find out more about the group of bandits we've seen several times near our borders this month. Artemis traveled a lot before settling in with Outlaws, so she's the best at spotting traveling bands. As far as I know, they're going to give us trouble, I heard they keep Sandeaters and Skydrivers on leashes! Let me tell you that, even though King Jason said it was madness to keep unruly beasts so close, I know he was jealous."
Maybe Slade had gone too far in his speculations, maybe Jason was planning an attack on these bandits. Roy continued his monologue. "I hate them, hunting birds is my style, but the skin of these Sandeaters is so tough, and they are so quick! There's no room for error when I shoot them, it's frustrating. But I've come up with a new idea to improve my arrow-"
"Roy. This is important."
"Yes, sorry. Then... Kory's been here a few times too. That's nothing new, but the weird thing was that she was looking kinda upset recently, so maybe they had a disagreement or something."
Kory might know something, she'd be next on Slade's visit list if Roy had no helpful information, Jason had great faith in her.
"And there's Black Mask."
"Sionis? What did he want with Jason?"
Roman Sionis was one of the few people in the Citadel that Slade didn't really trust; not that he trusted people in general, but Sionis seemed to hate Gotham as much as Jason did, and the two of them together couldn't be a good sign. Sionis always tried to push Jason into war, and luckily Kory was there to prevent him from doing anything he would regret. But maybe Kory wasn't enough this time.
"I don't know, I could hear muffled voices but couldn’t make out what they were saying. I've seen him come by a couple of times this week... I think he's trying to get our King back on board with his war. I know he blames Gotham for what happened to his face, but I'd rather he didn't come into contact with our King: every time Sionis leaves, King Jason's in a bad mood for several hours..."
Roy had no clue about what was happening, and that somehow comforted Slade; Roy was innocent, and so was Tim. Well, for Tim, the law could go either way, after all, he was the creator of the poisons. He turned a blind eye but he wasn't a fool. Not that Slade minded, considering the number of people he'd killed himself. Ditto for Roy, really. But since he'd created poisons that were going to be used to murder an entire Citadel, rather than simply defending Outlaws, he wasn't sure Tim would be very happy to live with it on his conscience.
"Are you going to see Black Mask?"
"Yes. I think he’s scheming something with King Jason, and I'd rather be safe than sorry."
"Then I'll come. I'm tired of him getting into our King's head."
Slade sighed, but his voice was warm. "Admit it: you mostly want to avoid chores."
Roy chuckled. "Yes, that too! But seeing you worry worries me, okay? I don't want our King to do something he'll regret for the rest of his life."
Slade remained thoughtful. Maybe he already had.
***
Roman sat quietly and sipped his drink. Everything had gone according to plan, and no one was the wiser. It had taken him some time to convince Jason, but his determination had finally paid off. The die had been cast and now all he had to do was wait. He would have preferred something more radical and faster, but he'd waited so many years, he could wait another month.
It hadn't been easy to get rid of Drake, the little brat never left his lab. It was lucky that Jason had thrown one of his Roman-don't-know-what tantrums; it had given Sionis time to act. Or maybe this wasn’t an act, but Roman didn’t care about Jason’s health. First, he would get rid of Gotham.
He'd taken all the poisons home and stored them in his basement. All that remained was to wait for the day of the Exchange, and that was that. The goods for the Exchange came out of the laboratory the day of the delivery in the morning, so once again Roman's window was short. He'd paid the egg thief a pittance to divert attention; he knew the mother vulture would track the egg back here and give him time to exchange the goods. Sionis' house was on the other side of the main doors, close to the vehicles used for the Exchange. Each fake vial had been renamed, each color calculated to match the corresponding medicine it replaced; nothing was looking out of place. Even Drake would have been fooled.
Soon Gotham would be nothing but a pile of corpses, just like he'd always wanted. Jason couldn't be in two kingdoms at once, and Roman had every intention of climbing the ladder.
His door shattered and Roman dropped his glass, which shattered on the floor. There, in the frame, were Slade and Roy staring at him. Roman was no fool; he prioritized survival and knew when to retreat. How Slade knew about it, Roman had no idea. Surely Jason’s fault, he was too young to be in power, too emotional, if Roman had–
"Sionis. Good to see you." But Sionis bolted for the window. Roy drew his bow, and the arrow grazed Sionis and lodged in the window frame, right on the latch, preventing Sionis from opening it.
Slade's icy voice cut through the room, bouncing off the walls as time seemed to stand still. "I see we're feeling guilty about something, am I right?"
Sionis gritted his teeth. So close..." Couldn't you just mind your own business? It has nothing to do with you. You’re all a bunch of incompetents who'd rather be at Gotham's mercy, dependent on its water, than take up arms. You're just a bunch of cowards with no ambition!"
Roy chuckled. "Says the guy who runs away at the first opportunity... I guess that makes you a coward too, doesn't it? I don't like people who think they're above the rest... You bleed like us, man. You bleed and you die like the rest of us. Stop thinking you're a God."
Sionis put an evil grin on his face and burst out laughing. "You obey a child’s orders, do you think your King doesn’t think of himself as a God, with all of you stupid people at his feet? Power should go to the people who deserve it, not to the insane son of a King incapable of defending his kingdom."
Slade waved his hand briefly. "Yeah, I understand you. This whole hierarchy stuff doesn't make sense to me, everyone has their qualities, and forcing a job on them has never been a good idea in my opinion, it's better to choose people who are efficient at their job. Which you wouldn't be. Ruling a kingdom is not about being a King, it's about doing things for your people, and fighting for their welfare. King Jason is not perfect, no one is, but he has a lot more humanity than you will ever have, and he is a good ruler, by my standards. Well, he could do better in the alliance sector, his current approach – giving him the cold shoulder, that is, to King Bruce is not optimal, but as far as Outlaws is concerned, he has sacrificed a lot and done a lot for us. If one day I find it useful to start a revolution, I'll do it if it's worth it, why not."
Sionis scoffed. "Don't make me laugh. You're head over heels with an enemy Prince, and you come here to lecture me? How much is Gotham paying you to protect them? What are you really after, to become King too? Do you think Bruce will open his arms to you if you betray Outlaws? He will behead you for ever coming near his brother, that is all you will get. Your Prince is using you."
Slade was sure of it now; Jason would never have doubted Slade, but if Sionis had started to grow ideas in Jason's head that Slade was about to betray him for Gotham, it might explain why Jason hadn't taken him into the confidence. Of course, Sionis always knew everything, he always talked about how Gotham must have a lot of spies in Outlaws, but the reality was that most of the spies in Outlaws had to be working for Sionis himself. You always blame others when you're to blame.
Slade's heart beat a little too fast since Sionis talked about Dick. If Sionis knew, and considering how shady he always was, then he was a threat, and Slade would get rid of him, no matter what happened to the kingdoms in the future. He tried his best to control his murderous mood. "Well. I don't have all day, where did you hide the crates?”
Slade had seen the crates being moved from the lab to the vehicles, and Tim had been present in his lab at the time, Slade was sure that meant the crates of harmless vials were waiting patiently somewhere right now. The easiest time to switch places between the good and the dangerous ones had been during the Skydriver's attack on Outlaws. Tim always prepared the exchange on the day of its departure, it would have been too risky for Sionis to switch the crates before then.
The real cargo had to be somewhere, and that was the proof Slade needed. Sionis's word was worthless if he denied everything later, even with Roy as a witness. Anyone could lie. But the original crates, along with Tim's expertise in comparing the original product to what was sent, could prove to Bruce that Slade was telling the truth and force Jason to admit what he did.
Slade just wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. If he took the risk of talking to Jason about it, and Jason decided to take him out, it would complicate matters, and warning Bruce would start a war. But he wasn’t going to let Dick die, and he couldn’t steal him away either.
Could he?
"Who knows?" Maybe Sionis didn't have that much of a sense of self-preservation after all, because he lunged at Slade, grabbing a knife that was lying on the table. With luck, the surprise might be enough to give him time to escape; he had nothing left to lose, the crates were a few feet down, and Sionis was a goner. Slade narrowly dodged the knife by spinning to the side, grabbing Sionis' hand and twisting his wrist. Sionis screamed and instinctively let go of the knife, swinging his body in the direction Slade wanted to keep his wrist from breaking. Slade threw him to the ground, this time turning him face down and pinning his legs and arms.
Meanwhile, Roy had ventured into the house and discovered a small trapdoor. Without missing a beat, he opened it, and despite the darkness, light shone through the wooden floorboards and he could make out the boxes. "They're here!"
Slade grinned. "You're making it easy for us, I thought you'd have gotten rid of them by now. Thank you very much."
Sionis continued to fight. This was his goal, but he had wanted to wait until nightfall. He'd negotiated a deal with traveling bandits, and the rendezvous was set for three o'clock that night.
Roy turned to Slade. "What are we going to do? Do you think our King knows...?" Slade heard the despair in Roy's voice. It hurt him; he knew Roy trusted their King, and to see him do something like this... Roy must have felt betrayed in some way.
"Keep Sionis locked up here and go get Tim. Take the crates to a safe place. I'll be back in two hours tops."
"What? Where are you going? What are you gonna do?"
"What I have to do. Then we'll go to King Jason."
***
"We should send a message to Outlaws, warn them about the bandits, tell them to be careful when they go out."
Damian rolled his eyes with exhaustion. The three brothers had been told that the bandits were back once again and now, sitting around the table, Bruce was worried about Outlaws. "For the tenth time, brother, there's no way they don't know about this."
"But Jason-"
"The King of Outlaws will know how to take care of himself, believe me. And if they get robbed, too bad for them. Serves them right for not accepting your demand for total pacification all these years. Which, by the way, wasn't such a good idea, but whatever."
Dick scolded him, eyebrows furrowed, but Damian didn’t care. "With the Exchange, we already have everything we need. We're already at peace, supposedly. If King Jason wants to betray us, he will, official papers of unification or not. On the contrary, the fact that he's never wanted to negotiate on the subject proves that he has no intention of allying with us. I'm sure that if we were attacked and asked for help, Outlaws wouldn't lift a finger, only too happy to be rid of us for good. Oh, Dick, don't look at me like that, you know I'm right."
Bruce sighed. Before all of that, Jason and he had always gotten along; he'd never understood why his parents' death had chilled their bond so much. The day Jason got crowned, a few days after his parents' death, Jason had ignored him, and the only time they saw each other again was when Bruce was crowned a few years later, the same day of his parents' funeral. Otherwise, Jason had always managed to send someone else to their annual reunions, usually Kory, sometimes accompanied by Slade. The only time Jason deigned to show his nose was when Bruce couldn't make it, and Dick and Damian acted as his representatives.
Bruce had always portrayed Jason as a warm, mischievous child; Damian was sure they weren't talking about the same person. The Jason Dick and he knew was cold, very impatient, and very un-magnanimous.
A bit like Damian, in fact, except that Damian was younger, more professional, more strategic, more responsi–
"Slade–"
And Damian jumped when he heard the name come out of his brother's mouth.
"–had once told me that they'd been investigating who was to blame for the death of his parents. That was when our two kingdoms fell apart, wasn't it? It must have been very hard for him to lose his parents so young... It changes a person."
"We know very well who killed them, it was a gang of wanderers who attacked their car to steal their belongings, as happens regularly."
"No, Dami, King Jason is convinced that it wasn't a coincidence. I... Slade never confirmed it, but I'm convinced the King believes the order came from Gotham." Dick looked at Bruce doubtfully, hoping to read some clues on his face. Bruce remained unmoved, and Damian shrugged.
"We never did that."
"You were eight, Dami, what do you know?"
"And you were seventeen, and you weren't even there during that time, you were out of the kingdom. You don't know any more than I do, all I hear is unfounded speculation."
Bruce remained calm and unperturbed. Dick insisted. "Brother, do you know anything?"
Bruce looked up at his brother with remorseful eyes and opened his mouth, but was cut off.
"Brother, please do not lie..."
Bruce shook his head and looked defeated. "I had no idea. I promise you I didn't. I... When it happened, I didn't know. I didn't find out until a few years ago. Jason's accusations were well-founded, Gotham wanted to regain full control of both kingdoms, and our parents' former right-hand man, Jonathan Crane, convinced them... The goal wasn't to kill them, just to bring them to their senses. Our parents ignored Crane’s true intentions."
"Crane disappeared right after the King and Queen died, right? I'd heard he had left Gotham, so I didn't think much of it, I barely remember him. But then Slade told me, and that's what tipped me off. Brother... King Jason doesn't know, does he? About the conspiracy against his parents."
Bruce stood up abruptly, almost knocking over his chair. "And he'll never know. End of discussion. Enough, I shouldn't have brought it up."
"How did you find out?" Damian asked.
"With Alfred, we found the letters that proved his intentions. Crane was exchanging information with someone in Outlaws. I never found out who, it was signed B M."
"What did you do with the letters?"
"I wanted to burn them. I wanted to forget. But... Alfred still has them. He said it was better to keep them in case it became necessary one day."
"Even without proof, our kingdoms are at odds. Perhaps it would have been better to accept retaliation by proving that mom and dad were manipulated by Crane–"
Damian sighed. "Dick. It was absolutely not in our interest to do something so silly. Jason was crowned at fifteen, can you see yourself trying to explain to a child that yes, it's our fault, but we didn't do it on purpose? Can you see him responding okay, no problem, let's be allies?"
Dick grimaced. "No, of course not. But maybe now would be a good time to come clean. Spill the beans, start over a relationship based on trust–"
"We'll never regain his trust. We don't have it now when he has no proof, we'll have it even less when he has proof that he was right. It will just be the start of a war and the ruin of everything we have worked for."
Bruce remained silent. He clasped his face in his hands, and never before had he looked so distressed in Dick's eyes. Tired and dejected, Bruce left the room, not answering his brothers' calls.
Dick didn't know what to make of the new information. He spent the afternoon walking the streets. Should he tell Outlaws? No, that would be a mistake. Some things were better buried and never brought up again. But Slade and he had promised each other no more secrets; if it was a secret that didn't concern them, did it count? Of course, it counted. But Slade was probably hiding things too, no?
Dick stepped aside to avoid a ball coming quickly at his feet from his left.
"Oh! Prince Dick, will you play with us?!"
Dick was about to say no - his mood was too low for that, but he changed his mind. He wanted to clear his head, and the smiles of these happy children were contagious. If only we could all keep our childlike souls. King Jason had lost his too soon.
Dick began to move around with the ball, dodging the children's feet as best he could, before firing a beautiful but purposely slow shot in the direction of the goal. The girl stopped the shot, looking very proud. It was heartwarming, and this time when Dick got the ball back, he tried his best to get everyone else involved so that everyone could have their moment of joy. Dick was torn, he still didn't know what to do. He wouldn't see Slade for another week, so he would sleep on it, hoping to get a clear answer until then, but something told him he still wouldn't know what to do in a week. He silenced that little voice.
He passed the ball to another child before seeing someone further back in the crowd who caught his eye. Was it… Slade? How had he gotten in, and more importantly, what was he doing there? Dick wasn't hallucinating. His heart swelled with joy at the thought of seeing him, then froze. He didn't have a week to think anymore, and if Slade was coming to Gotham unannounced for the first time, it wasn't just because he missed Dick. Something was going on; did Outlaws have spies who had overheard their conversation with Bruce? Was Slade coming to warn him of some impending disaster because Jason learned the truth?
With a fluttering heart, he excused himself from the children and followed the hooded figure to a quieter corner. Hidden between a house and the ramparts, Slade stopped and lowered his chlamys to face Dick. Dick threw himself into his arms; whatever the outcome of the conversation, if for some reason this was to be the last time they saw each other– No, Dick didn’t want to think about that.
Slade caught him, kissed his hair, and let his face rest on his head, breathing in his scent. But time was running out, and he stepped back. Dick had no intention of letting go and gripped Slade's clothes tightly. Slade lowered his eyes to meet Dick's despair-filled ones, and Dick's stomach lurched, afraid that Slade was going to give him bad news.
"My bird, I have news for you. You mustn't touch the new cargo; it's poisoned."
Dick's eyes widened even more and he let go of Slade, this time being the one to step aside, but Slade put a hand on his cheek. "Listen to me. We can stop this. We have to arrange a meeting between King Bruce and King Jason. This has gone on for too long."
Dick frowned. "Your King wants to kill us all and you want us to arrange a meeting?! Have you lost your mind?"
"Roy, Tim, and I caught the culprit."
"Ah. So it wasn't coming from King Jason?" Slade's silence confirmed to Dick that his first guess had been correct. It was indeed Jason's work.
"I have to tell my broth– "
"Richard, wait. Please promise me that you'll try to convince your brother."
"Slade, he made an attempt on the lives of everyone in Gotham."
"I know. But he's not feeling well."
Dick grumbled in exasperation. "That's no excuse, if every time we weren't well, we destroyed the lives of hundreds of people–"
"I know. I know. Please. Just trust me. I know him well, this isn't what he wants, he just doesn't know how to handle his emotions anymore. Please promise me that you'll try to convince your brother not to go to war with Outlaws and that you'll meet with him first. They need to talk, and Jason refuses, but it's the only way to avoid the loss of both kingdoms. Jason's not always in his right mind, that can make him quite angry and excessive, he may have done something unforgivable, but the remorse will eat him up in the years to come, and I don't think he'll be able to survive it. Just one meeting, please."
Dick grimaced and gave up. "I don't have to convince him, he's wanted this meeting for ten years, which your King keeps avoiding. Even if he finds out about the poison, my brother feels so guilty that he'll probably forgive King Jason, I'm sure..."
"Guilty? Of what?"
Dick wanted to slap himself; no secrets, right? Slade had just betrayed his kingdom, if it meant that both kingdoms could finally be at peace, Dick could do the same. "The death of Jason's parents... It was our former right-hand man, Crane, who caused it. Our parents didn't want them dead, they thought they could convince them to let Gotham run Outlaws. King Jason... We have no excuse, he was right. It's all our fault. But my brother would never do that, he didn't know, he found out much later, he doesn't want to rule Outlaws, Slade, please believe me!"
"I believe you, my bird. I'm going back to Outlaws and I'm going to do everything I can to get King Jason here tomorrow morning. Tell your brother. Just don't destroy the crates, we'll get them back tomorrow, and Tim will know what to do. I don't trust all that stuff spreading in the air, who knows what might happen." Dick nodded and laid his head in the crook of Slade's neck. "Thanks for the warning. I promise you everything will be fine, the affair won't get out, I'm sure we can come to an agreement."
Slade lifted Dick's face with his fingertips and planted a tender kiss on his lips. "If you believe that, I have no reason to doubt."
A few minutes later, Slade disappeared into the desert. He was on his way to face Jason.
***
Bruce lay in bed, his eyes glued to the ceiling. He'd thought about telling Jason the truth, trying to rebuild the bond between them that had been broken when Jason's parents died. When he was younger, Bruce had always told himself that when he and Jason ruled, they would finally have the opportunity to put the two kingdoms on the same path.
A decade earlier, Jason was young and still in his rebellious phase against authority, but even beyond that, Bruce could see in the young man a desire to prove himself, to follow his own path and not the one set by his parents. Bruce thought that maybe things were finally about to change. He was aware that Gotham regularly backed Outlaws into a corner, and he saw that Gotham's higher-ups were devaluing Outlaws, believing that they were better suited to rule the two kingdoms than to leave it to the current King and Queen. He knew his parents shared that view, but he knew they would never have wanted Jason's parents dead.
Bruce had seen all his dreams shattered that day. All his affection for Jason hadn't seemed to be mutual, because as soon as Jason became King, he cut all ties with Bruce. Bruce had told himself that it would pass, that Jason was trying to learn how to run a kingdom and that he would soon return to Bruce. Months passed and began to turn into years, and Jason always ignored him as best he could, never came to see Bruce, and when Bruce did want to come, he was always given excuses not to. Bruce had never dared to insist. The tenderness he'd felt for Jason all these years had gradually turned into a devotion mixed with a certain self-sacrifice for him, without Bruce even realizing it. It wasn't until that fateful day when Jason needed him most that Bruce realized that what he was beginning to feel was no longer simple devotion, but something much more transcendent than that: he felt a visceral need to be there for him in his moment of absolute need. Something that Jason had never granted him. Jason hadn't turned to him for comfort, Jason had turned his back on him, and Bruce had left Jason feeling miserable, alone, and far away.
With the years and all of Bruce's rejected attempts, and despite his unwillingness to give up, Bruce had come to his senses. When he was twenty-nine, the second tragedy struck with the death of his own parents, and he saw Jason again at Bruce's parents' funeral and his coronation. Bruce was torn between the deep sadness of losing them and an unknown feeling that crawled inside him, seeming to strip him of everything he had left. Jason was nothing but an empty shell before his eyes, and Bruce understood that in addition to losing his parents, he had also lost Jason; not just through distance, as he thought, but through the fact that Jason was no longer there to support him and help him overcome his grief. He was there, but he hadn't even looked at Bruce.
Jason no longer looked like the teenager Bruce had known, and he wasn't one anymore anyway. He had the look of an adult too tired to live even though he was still so young, and Bruce, thinking it couldn't get any worse, felt his heart break all over again.
Two years later, he learned the truth about what Jonathan Crane did, and once again his world fell apart. Bruce no longer felt worthy of even trying to get Jason’s friendship back.
Now, lying on his bed, he felt tired. He wished Jason would never know the truth, but the young man deserved to know the truth, deserved to know what Gotham had planned.
There was a noise at the door and Bruce heard someone knocking. "Come in."
It was Dick, looking pale, almost sick. Bruce rose quickly. "Dick? Are you all right?"
Dick closed the door behind him and approached, his eyes lowered to the floor. He looked mortified, and Bruce could see him open his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, then he caught his breath and started again, but still nothing.
"Sit down, Dick. Tell me what's wrong."
Dick obeyed and sat down on his brother's bed, then hid his face in his hands. I..." He tried to keep his voice steady, but it broke at the first syllable. Despite what he'd told Slade, he was afraid of his brother's reaction. He obviously had to warn him about the cargo to save Gotham, but he was afraid it would start a war, and he didn't know if he should lie about why it was poisoned. In so many years of coexistence, Outlaws had never made an attempt on Gotham's life; to say it would be a mistake might be plausible. But it wasn't, and Dick knew it. He had to say it.
He took a deep breath and raised his head, his voice still shaking but his tone firm. "We need to quarantine the crates that just arrived. The whole cargo is poisoned."
Bruce froze. There must have been a misunderstanding, Jason wouldn't have...
"Brother... King Jason knew about it. I don't think he's feeling well. I mean, I'm not sure... Hmm... We were warned before the damage was done. I know it's an act of treason, we can't trust them anymore, but... Actually, I don't even know why I'm arguing in their favor... Could the two of you meet tomorrow? You and him. I think there's too much left unsaid, it'll destroy us all. You told me about a child full of ideas, you told me about a Prince Jason who looked for every opportunity to create something even better. It's a Prince we never met, Dami and I; Dami was too young, he has almost no memory of it, and I wasn't there. Slade thinks that this Jason still exists deep inside him, but he doesn't think the King is capable of getting better alone."
Bruce took a deep breath. As King, he couldn't let this go. As Bruce, on the other hand... He didn't want to be the cause of the destruction of both kingdoms and he would never miss the chance to talk to Jason again, to explain himself, to move on, even if it wasn't in the same direction. At least have a chance to try to pick up the pieces.
"Who else knows about this?"
"No one. In Gotham, anyway."
"Very well, then. Set up the meeting tomorrow, and put the crates in a safe place. If anyone asks, just say that Outlaws informed us that they may have made a mistake in the packages and want to make sure we have the right products. No need to worry people any further than that."
"What are you going to do tomorrow?"
"I didn't want it to come to this. By putting off our meeting, the inevitable happened. With Jason living in fear that we want to own Outlaws, and hating our kingdom for killing his parents, I don't see why I expected everything to remain peaceful. I failed to rebuild bridges, but I won't fail again."
***
TBC