Chapter Text
Deathstroke – real name Slade Wilson, was one of the most dangerous men on a planet housing the Super Family, Bat Family, Flash Family, Martians, metas, Atlanteans, sorcerers, demons, a few New Gods, clones, robotic armies, intelligent ape empires and so much more. This man worked with the League of Assassins, trained many of them, and at one point, took it over from Ra’s Al Ghul, another one of the most dangerous men alive. He personally made Damian’s eldest brother’s life hell.
Needless to say, Wilson was not to be underestimated. Anyone who could bring down Wilson was dangerous.
Which is why it shocked the collective hero community (and many underground villain ones) when a hapless farmer woman reported a body in a random field, bearing the weapons and mask of the infamous Deathstroke.
Immediately, a Justice League response was issued, and the body was immediately placed into heavy security. The DNA tests came through, then the magical tests, and then the telepathic checks. Damian stared at the copy of the results sheet he’d procured from his Father. The verdict was clear.
The body was real, neither clone or illusion. It was also clean. There were no wounds, no marks or bruises suggesting a fight, no injection sites or any other form of physical trauma. Father had lead the investigation of the area in which Wilson had been found himself, and found absolutely nothing. Not even tracks, suggesting the man had either been dropped there by a flying party or teleported. There were no substances within his system either, and extensive scans found no other internal injuries or disorders. Even if there were, his extensive healing factor would have saved him.
Slade Wilson would have had a clean bill of health, were it not for the fact that he was utterly, irrevocably braindead. There was much debate and discussion within the Justice League. Should they attempt to revive the man? Deathstroke could provide intel on his attacker, an entity dangerous enough to take him down without any trace of any kind, something no hero could attest to. On the other hand, the world was probably safer with a man like Deathstroke gone.
Eventually, it didn’t matter. Martian Manhunter reported that whatever was done to Deathstroke, it was like his brain was replaced with a blank copy. J’onn could not restore Deathstroke’s mind for the simple reason that there was nothing left to restore. A physical brain still existed, but nothing remained beneath the surface.
It was disturbing. The Justice League was put into unease. Nobody was allowed to patrol alone. As Captain Marvel so cheerfully stated. “Patrolling buddies! If you don’t have one, get one!”
While Father contacted the umpteenth ally to request their expertise, Damian had an itch. Of all the people he knew, one Talia Al Ghul, his mother, had the most recent bone to pick with the former super soldier, seeing as how Slade had once taken her father’s position. If anyone knew anything, she did.
Drake and Todd had insisted on coming too, which Damian found insulting. He could easily have handled the rabble that his mother trained in his absence alone, but nothing could dissuade them, and he did not have time to kill.
They failed to locate his mother, but while rifling through some reports, Drake noted some files of interest. They left Grandfather’s bases and his mother’s as smoldering ruins, their primary missioned failed, but with something to show for it at least.
Upon arriving home, Alfred immediately shooed them into the showers, and then upstairs. “You have all had a long flight. Come now. The files will be there in the morning.” And would not accept another word in protest.
That would not be true for Todd and Drake, that is, for Damian was the first to get to them in the morning, and what he found there shook him to his core.
The reports were dated to around several years prior. Mother had sent various teams of assassins to a random town in the Midwest. The first team had come up braindead, just like Slade did. Damian cheered. A lead at last!
He kept reading. More squads were sent. More were rendered braindead. Whatever it was that Mother was sending so many subordinates to their deaths for, it had to have been incredibly valuable. However, if it were that valuable, there was nothing stopping her from taking over the job personally.
Time to look up what was it about this Amity Park that Mother cared so much about.
A ghost infestation? A portal to an alternate dimension maintained in the basement of a scientist couple’s family home? And-
A newspaper clipping stared back at him like a kick to the throat. ‘Danny Fenton Discovers He was a She!’ dating back only a few months ago. A tear pricked at his eye, for the smiling face that looked back from the screen was his own, or rather, his twin’s.
So that’s where he’d been hiding.
Damian made preparations to go immediately.