Chapter Text
Dick shouldn’t be here.
He shouldn’t be settled in the Watchtower cafeteria, surrounded by younger heroes huddled together in lockdown, each of them silent and staring at the television screen calmly counting down to a life-changing announcement they knew even their superheroic mentors couldn’t protect them from.
Two minutes.
He should be out there, hunting down these sick bastards (he tried, failed, to avoid thinking about how the whole Justice League had spent three weeks trying to uncover these sadistic pricks, and found exactly nothing. If he thought about that, the urge to go scream at the World’s Greatest Detective again wouldn’t be so easily ignored). He should be doing something beyond muttering pointless platitudes at children and pacing the room in a way that reminded him of the panther he’d seen at a zoo as a child, striding back and forth and being driven slowly mad by the awareness of prey just slightly out of its reach.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
The younger vigilantes huddled together more tightly, a few reaching out to drag a friend into a hug or snatch at the nearest hand to hold. He couldn’t blame them for being scared, given the youngest Atlantean was still unconscious in the medbay after the previous ‘hero hunt’. He had barely survived.
For all the bluster about bravery and alpha-male bullshit, they were only targeting obvious minors. But Dick supposed ‘stalking and murdering literal children like fucking weak-ass bastards’ wasn’t as powerful and affirming for the rabidly voting, at least partially civilian, audience.
Only Damian seemed unbothered, looking around before offering a quiet sigh and a quick, almost amused, ‘calm yourselves. I can assure you, none of you will be chosen for this hunt.’ He shrugged at their horrified expressions. ‘My grandfather would love this sort of dramatic act of public humiliation for his failed heir, and would be aware this might be his last opportunity to orchestrate it. I have no doubt that it shall be my head on the chopping block this week.’
‘How are you not terrified right now?’ Dick couldn’t help but agree with Jon’s pronouncement.
‘Because I know that it means the hunt ends tonight. The General will not allow for anything less.’
The General? Dick made a mental note to talk to Damian – again – about withholding important information about the League. Besides, how could he be so confident in one person’s expertise when the entirety of the Justice League were unable to find even a trace of the cabal responsible for hosting these barbaric contests? The best and brightest of the world were left standing around uselessly staring at their screens, so why on earth would some renegade assassin be successful?
Before he could interrogate his wayward youngest brother, Dick’s gaze shifted to the screen at the sound of the host’s delighted, heavily modified, laughter. As ever, he stood in an otherwise darkened room, wearing a shiny silver mask and robes to hide any identifying features. In the background, if you paid careful attention, you could sometimes see movement, like there were guards patrolling the room during the transmissions. ‘It looks like the residents of Gotham are more than a little sick of their newest Robin.’ An image of Damian’s masked form filled the screen behind the host. ‘He’s the winner by a wide, wide margin.’ Another smarmy laugh. 'I'd tell him to think about his life choices to have so many people loathe you and work towards your death, but it won't exactly matter in a few days, will it?'
Damian laughed triumphantly.
Even heavily modified, the host’s voice sounded oily and smug. Dick wanted to shove his escrima down the guy’s throat and set the charge to lethal. ‘Let the hunt begin!’
‘It’s already begun, asshole.’ The host spun, even as the lights all suddenly flared to life, dragging the figures they’d seen shifting slightly in previous broadcasts into painful clarity against the unpainted cement walls of what was likely a basement. They were cocky, clearly, given the lack of masks, and Dick felt a surge of vengeful glee to know that Cyborg and Oracle were on the hunt, now.
So caught up in finally, finally having identifies to track, it took Dick far to long to realise that the sudden lights also revealed a man in tactical gear, a brown leather jacket, and a red, metallic helmet, who promptly murdered all of the heavily armed guards without even looking where to aim his guns.
Damian tsked, but there was a glint to his eyes that promised he was deeply unsurprised by what was happening. Clearly, the General had arrived.
‘Not the hunt you’d hoped for, though, Marvin.’ The man’s voice was gleefully mocking, despite the layers of masking protecting his identity. Moving too fast to counter, he lunged forward, ripping the host’s own mask off and grabbing him by the back of the neck so he could force his face into clearer view of the camera. ‘That’s your name, isn’t it? Marvin Jacobs, elementary school teacher and online sadist encourager.’ He shook the man so roughly his face smacked into the camera lens. ‘Spending your days shaping impressionable young minds, and then your nights profiteering while you try and get other impressionable young minds splattered over the pavement. That was your first mistake. Your second was believing that nobody would ever find out.’
Marvin’s face paled, his eyes tearing up. Before he could say anything, he began retching violently, the sound of vomit hitting concrete loud even with his gasping and wailing.
Dick couldn’t help but agree with Damian’s mumble of ‘pathetic.’ Clearly similarly minded, the General shook Marvin brutally hard until he choked and fell silent. ‘Now, now, Marvin. Don’t be like that. You were all big and brave ten minutes ago, when you were helping to hunt and terrorise children.’
‘It was a mistake, I’m really sorry. I’ll tell you everything you want to know!’ The General sighed, and somehow, it sounded disappointed.
‘Pathetic. I’m sure your two bosses would be very disappointed to see how quickly you caved and offered to sell them out. Well, if they were still alive, they would be. See, I may have issues with the Justice League’s ongoing use of child soldiers, but I also have a rule: you don’t target kids. You have a problem with heroes, man up and take it up with the actual hero who pissed you off, not their fuckin' child sidekick, you cowards. So you’re on my naughty list, Marvin. And you’re gonna end up just as dead as you’re bitch ass bosses the Joker and Black Mask.’
Damian stiffened at the mention of the Joker, suddenly eyeing the General as though seeking out injuries. Whoever this General was, he was clearly important to Damian. ‘Honestly, villains these days are underwhelming. You know, both of them snivelled in the end, just like you. The Joker was so proud about killing a kid with a crowbar, you'd think he'd be able to take a few hits from one, right? But instead it's all 'no, please don't kill me! I'll go to Arkham! Just stoooooop'. Black Mask boasts about killin' Spoiler, and let me tell you, he was graphic in his descriptions, and yet he didn't even last a whole minute of what he put that kid through for hours. That's what they don't tell you about working for the dark hats, Marvin - for all the talk of strength and power, they're all snivelling lil' dickbags when confronted. Even the great and terrifying Deathstroke the Terminator shed a tear in the end. He was the one who got the worst hits on the Atlantean, you know. You're welcome, Aquaman. And kid? I hope you get well soon.’
The General shook his head, the gesture almost theatrical. ‘Now, Marvin, stop distracting me. You’re here to serve a very important purpose tonight: you’re a warning. Because granted, it took a little longer than I'd like to crack the code and get it all, but I now have all the money from, and all the information on your little crime syndicate here. And everyone involved – financial backers, tech support, voters, hunters, everyone – has a week. One week to turn yourselves in to the nearest police station, to tell them everything you’ve done. Not just in relation to your bullshit child hunting safaris, but all of it. I’ll be watching, and I promise you, I will know. You do that, and I’ll let the courts decide your fate. Refuse, and a new game begins, only this time, you’re the prey. And your downfall will be brutal, and public. Now, I know there’s a lot of you who’ll assume I won’t waste time on the little nobodies, that a few votes aren’t enough to get you good and dead, so to show you all just how serious I am, my people are posting all the names, photos, aliases, and locations of every. Single. Fucker. Involved in this bullshit.’ On the screen behind them, a QR code and tinyurl link appeared. ‘It’s searchable by town, so if I were you, I’d fuck off to the cops before your friends and neighbours realise the sort of sick fuck they’ve been living around. You helped hunt children for sport, I don’t doubt there’ll be people around who want a less than verbal conversation about your life choices. Tick, tock assholes.’
It took a painfully long time for Marvin to die, long enough that he’d admitted to a string of attacks on his students that, if anything, only made the General more brutal. The younger heroes looked away, sickened and horrified. Damian simply watched, shrugging off the team’s disgust with a wry, ‘even were he not the League of Assassin’s most successful operative, and one capable of – and experienced in – toppling empires, he is my brother. He spent literal years teaching grandfather’s enemies – and grandfather himself – that attacks upon me would not be tolerated, let alone forgiven. Of course he is overprotective.’