Chapter Text
“I am here to tell you the truth.” Amanda Waller says. Her tone drips with honeyed impassivity.
Her eyes are like diamonds, Jason Todd thinks half deliriously as he realized just how horribly he’s fucked, like black diamonds.
One thing that Jason had learned a long time ago was that although black diamonds were rare, they did exist. They occurred naturally, much like white diamonds. But unlike white diamonds, black diamonds don't shine by reflecting light. Instead, they absorb light; giving them a unique, marble-like allure. Black diamonds are as hard as white diamonds, and graphite inclusions tend to make them more brittle. They were also known as carbonaros: and despite their rarity compared to white diamonds, black diamonds were traditionally less valuable because they are in many ways imperfect with their inclusions and their generally uneven coloration.
Black diamonds absorbed color as naturally as Amanda Waller tended to slowly leech the life force and the fight out of Ghost; and consequently out of Jason Todd.
On the topic of diamonds and imperfections, Jason had helped Dana pick out an engagement ring intended for Molly only a few months ago. It was embellished with a beautifully imperfect black diamond. Molly had at one point in the past told Jason and Dana offhandedly how much she preferred black diamonds over white diamonds, and Dana had been so smug with herself for now knowing just the right kind of ring to pick and choose as Molly’s soon-to-be engagement ring. Jason had thought it was funny and endearing that Molly had unintentionally told them this information so soon before they had gone ring-shopping, and he had shared a smile with Dana from behind Molly’s back as they grinned at each other in excitement.
Dana hadn’t proposed though, not yet, because she had wanted Jason to help her set everything up and be there to help her surprise her girlfriend.
It’s something Jason had promised her when they were still little snot-nosed brats, hopeful of a bright future and the prospect of loving someone so much that you’d want to spend your whole life with them. Back then, seeing as they were children, Dana hadn’t had Molly in mind as a future spouse, of course. It was typical for kids to play pretend and dream of marrying when they got older, just like their parents and other adults had talked about. Jason had never understood the appeal, seeing as how his parents always screamed and shouted at one another despite being married, but he hadn’t wanted to let down one of his best friends, either. So he’d hooked his pinky around her’s, pressed their thumbs together, and grinned childishly back as he made a promise to make Dana’s future wedding the best wedding ever.
And then he’d died, and he’d come back, and now Jason doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him with his fate resting entirely in the hands of Amanda Waller.
When Jason, Molly, and Dana were little kids running around the Alley together, they spent any last bit of free time far from home without any parental supervision and learned how to take care of themselves and one another. In Dana’s case, her parents were busy working at the Diner. In the case of Jason and Molly, their parents were either too busy working for whichever Kingpin had wrestled control of the Alley, or they were actively abusing substances until they couldn’t even recognize the face of their own child.
The three of them were all one another had for a long, long time.
Jason stares hard into Waller’s glittering gaze, at the harsh frown on her lips, and silently wishes he’d had time to apologize for leaving again, no matter how unwillingly he was taken nearly every time he’d left Molly and Dana and everyone else behind.
The first time had been at the fault of the Joker. The second time he’d been too broken inside to seek out his childhood friends and had forcefully put distance between himself and anyone who had cared about him in the past. The third time, this time, they’d found him first.
And yet again he’d left them.
(He had been stolen away.)
Amanda Waller wants to tell Jason the truth now? After all of these years?
Jason doesn’t want to give in, and so he curls his lips, snarking back at Amanda Waller despite knowing how helpless he was within her grasp. “And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” He says mockingly. “John, 8:32. We quotin’ scripture, now?”
Despite herself, Waller seems distantly amused. Jason had noticed that odd detail sparsely throughout the more recent years. Waller seemed oddly…. entertained by her favorite pet soldier’s quips and teases. The more time passed, the more that Jason had noticed her…. Softening up to him, almost. It reminded him of Talia, more than a lifetime ago, while he was being trained to kill by her League soldiers at her father’s behest. There was a distance that the women were forcefully trying to insert in between themselves and Jason, only to somehow realize that this person they were training was no more than a child who’d already lost so much. It didn’t appear often, the softness that is, and Jason typically brushed it off. But whenever he noticed it and was unable to convince himself that it wasn’t a fallacy, it always left him unsettled.
It hadn’t stopped them from continuing to tear him apart, though. Not in the case of Talia al Ghul, and certainly not now in the case of Amanda Waller.
And Jason doesn’t understand. How is it that they could continue to hurt him, hurt anyone, seeing as it pained them to watch it happen? When had this switch even happened?
“This is no time for jokes, Jason.” Waller says, something just a tad…. Warm? Amused? slithering into her tone, cold and yet strikingly and distantly fond. It makes Jason feel sick, because it wasn’t right. Waller was rarely ever anything but distant and apathetic with him. This was…. It felt wrong.
Amanda Waller didn’t sound like that. Not with him. Not with anyone.
A pit opens in his stomach as he realizes there’s far more to this than he has previously figured. Jason swallows roughly, still watching Waller stare down at him where he’s pinned to the table with medical-grade restraints. It’s times like these he misses the boost in strength that the Lazarus Pit had granted him in the past.
“What the fuck are you playing at, Amanda-”
“Do not call me that.” Waller’s eyes harden into the brittle diamonds of before, losing that slight tint of warmth. To Jason, it’s a relief rather than something that frightens him. He knows her anger and her disappointment. It’s predictable. It’s safe.
Waller straightens her suit jacket, standing up taller, seeming to pull herself back together as Jason watches apprehensively. Once composed, she speaks again. “You are to address me as General Waller, Jason, when has that ever been any different?”
Jason merely blinks in shock, because none of this was making any sense. He knows he’d used her name in the past, many times over. She hadn’t commented on it before now. Waller, though, had always called him “Ghost” when she was angry. Always. She used his title as her weapon to distance them and provide an extra barrier between any empathy that could possibly arise in their working relationship.
(Yeah right, when could Amanda Waller ever be empathetic towards anyone?)
And yet now she kept using his name.
“Does this have to do with the so-called “truth,” General Waller?” Jason asks instead of what he’s really wondering. He tugs again at his restraints, swallowing down his blooming surge of claustrophobia.
Waller stares him down, and Jason can’t read anything in her gaze. Once again, he begins to question if these oddities that he’d heard in her voice or saw in her expression were merely a trick of the mind. Jason hates questioning his reality.
“You are unaware of what exactly led to your resurrection.” Waller observes, still watching him.
“That’s old news.” Jason bites back, swallowing, fingers curling with the remembered feeling of mud caking beneath splintered nails. The feeling of immobility presses down around him, the restraints reminding him of what it felt like to be trapped in a small space six feet below ground. “You’ve been asking me the same question for fuckin’ eight years. I don’t fuckin’ know why I’m alive.”
“And I believe that to be the truth.” Amanda Waller responds evenly.
Jason feels uncertainty strike him, then. He narrows his eyes at the woman. “Then why do you still ask me the same god damn questions? You know, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, General Waller.”
“Hmm. You have far too much attitude considering the position you are in, Ghost.” Waller says, her tone turning icy.
Jason sees her eyes harden, and his own blood feels as if it freezes in his veins. Because he knows that look- he has always recognized it when he pushed his limits, but Jason was too fucking stubborn to let off the gas. He’s always been one to want to get in the last word, no matter how many times it’s gotten him into trouble. It seems this is yet another example.
Waller surprises him however when, rather than triggering the nanite to silence him, she merely tightens her lips and then continues to speak in an icy tone.
“I had received permission from my superiors upon your retrieval to investigate further into whatever anomaly allowed you to return from the grave. This blanket authorization also allowed me to consent to any testing and experimentation my team thought necessary on your behalf, and I was given full custody of you, considering you were a minor at the time ARGUS took you in.”
“Well, what the fuck-” Jason snarls, anger slowly building within. He had never consented to being picked up by ARGUS in the first place. Jason had figured that, as his main handler, Waller had some sort of custody over him. But with him knowing of the nanite he’d awoken to having surgically placed into his body and the blackmail she’d then held over his head, Jason hadn’t even considered the fact that the actual fucking government had essentially tossed Amanda Waller full rights to do with him what she pleased.
Was that really something that Waller had been able to do in his last lifetime, as well? Had ARGUS and its affiliates dealt in this kind of illegal ownership of citizens that extended further than the Suicide Squad then, too? Jason can remember, vaguely, that the Task Force X of his past had been all that he and the Bats were able to tag Waller with in relation to illegal extortion of criminals. He had even done some digging with the Outlaws on his own time, but hadn’t found anything more, and in present day it was one of the things he regretted most about his past.
Back then, he would have had the opportunity to ruin ARGUS.
This time, he was caught in the middle of it all in the same position that the Suicide Squad had been trapped in. He was the first to be put into the position, nonetheless.
Was it karma, or just his bad fucking luck?
Jason tries to slow his heart rate and his breathing, because now that Waller is willing to elaborate on these things, he wants to know. Even if it sent his heart pounding and had his palms breaking into a cold sweat. “What was so interesting about me, exactly? What the fuck aren’t you telling me?”
He needs to know, now that everything had fallen apart.
(Was Mia okay? Steph? Duke? What about Ruby?)
Waller gives Jason a look that has his brain stuttering to a halt; a tight twist to her lips. He knows what’s coming next. His airways squeeze shut as fire ignites throughout his body and he would have screamed if he had any oxygen left to exhale. It starts at his neck and spreads throughout his whole body; electricity sizzles within his blood and causes his muscles to cramp up and curl. This was realistically only thirty seconds of electrocution, but it has Jason utterly down for the count. Even when it ends and he feels the full body restraints Waller’s lackeys had strapped him into being released, he can do no more than pant as he puts all of his energy into simply breathing.
Waller watches him; utterly apathetic.
“That…” Jason heaves and gags, limbs twitching occasionally. He swallows convulsively, eyelids fluttering, and manages to roll off of the suffocating table and onto the floor in a graceless, clumsy sprawl. The clean white tiles are freezing and feel amazing on his aching muscles, even though goosebumps break out across his uncovered arms. From his new spot on the ground, looking even further up at the woman who essentially owns him, Jason had never been more aware of his lack of authority over his own life than he was at this very moment.
“That was your warning to hold your tongue should you feel the need to disrespect me throughout this conversation.” Waller tells him in response. Jason could recognize the look in her eyes as something close to satisfaction. She had always enjoyed demonstrating to Ghost and the Task Force exactly how much power she had over them.
And then he looks closer and sees the exact moment that her expression changes; it’s only a flicker, there and gone. Waller had tried to hide it from him. But Jason saw it.
And Jason…. Well.
He chokes on what could be considered a manic chuckle, trapped just behind his teeth. Amanda is gazing down at him with a look in her eyes that Jason can remember seeing only once in his own eyes many, many years ago despite everything that had happened since. It was a look that had been immortalized in his mind as something he never wanted to see again on anyone’s face; not even if that person who bore it now was General Amanda Waller. Especially if it was displayed in the gaze of a woman such as her; because, well, what would it mean for the rest of the world if one of its most merciless soldiers couldn’t disguise a look such as this? The eyes would always be the window to the soul; and even the best actors couldn’t entirely wipe away this particular emotion.
Devastation.
Jason can’t help it anymore; he laughs. He laughs and laughs and he thinks he can taste blood in the back of his throat. He laughs so hard his breathing turns into wheezes and he has to clutch at his chest as he tries to stop. Tears of mirth and disbelief well up in his eyes as he snorts, trying to swallow down this sudden hysteria that is slowly bleeding into resignation. Amanda Waller remains silent and watchful, allowing Jason to come to his own realization, and she gives him plenty of time to attempt to pull himself together when he finally manages to stop laughing.
Jason wipes at the tears rolling down his cheeks, swallowing harshly, and leans back almost lazily against the side of the table he had been restrained to just moments earlier. He must look young, dressed in only a drab gray t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his bare feet pressed against the icy flooring. Amanda Waller gazes back evenly as he meets her eyes and clears his throat. When Jason finally speaks, his voice reveals the weight of all of his past experiences. It directly contrasts with his youthful appearance. His voice…. It’s rough, and rasps painfully against his throat. It’s the tone of a veteran soldier that knows he’s going to be walking himself into a battle that may very well be his last, as much as it is the voice of what many would claim to be a hero offered the rare opportunity to decide their own ending.
“So, General Waller.” Jason swallows, a bitter grin pulling his lips upwards. “What is it that’s going to end the world this time?”
Amanda Waller’s gaze twinkles with something like desperation. “Tell me, Ghost,” She says, sounding far more intense and pleading than Jason had ever heard from the unshakable woman in any lifetime. ”Have you ever heard about an entity referred to as The Sleep?”
The Sleep.
The Sleep.
He knows that title.
Something flares to life in Jason’s naval, a tug that feels both as natural as breathing and yet as unfamiliar as holding within his grasp a new copy of a book he’d read countless times before. Static curls along his arms and something changes in the air. Jason’s eyes widen in shock as he feels something snap in his mind; thoughts flooding in with a cacophony of colors and sounds and memories he hadn’t even known were missing. His vision waivers for a moment and his hands begin to tremble at the overload of information. And then-
It
All
Slips
Away
Jason tastes blood on his tongue, coppery and thick. Spots fill his vision as he begins to float away from himself; away from the cold, damp bricks and the shackles tightly wrapped around his limbs. Away from the sharp bite of darkness eating away at his very soul while he’s still conscious. Away from knowing he is being forced to remain awake and unable to move while shadowed fingers peel the layers of his soul back like the pages of a book.
He’s alone in a manner of speaking. A fallen soldier surrounded only by enemies in the dystopian remnants of their destroyed homeland.
It’s like nothing he’d experienced before. It’s personal. It’s meant to inflict as much agony as possible. A disembodied voice cackles in his ears, the tone as grating as the shifting of tectonic plates. How could he have ever thought he could win this? Against this being more ancient than time itself?
(Jason hurts from the broken bones, and the bruises, and the blood. And yet nothing hurts worse than his paralysis as this… this Being rips and tears at his soul; the most vulnerable parts of who and what he is. It’s seeking for a way to tear out the part of his soul that has bound the All Blades to him for eternity; the same parts of his soul that were awoken and honed by the All Caste so long ago.)
To this Entity, he is nothing more than an interesting blip on the radar. He has no voice. No name. A single purpose. He is nothing but a living cadaver conveniently able to withstand their torture. A threat relevant enough to notice, at least until sufficiently neutralized. And so they take him apart, bleed him dry, dissect him piece. By. Piece. Again. And again. And again.
Jason finds himself slowly fading into the comfort of the nothingness that never failed to welcome him back with a fond embrace. The nearly senseless grasp of this otherness increases in its intensity as Jason fades out with frightening frequency. This presence remains there to catch him every time he falters in his fight; with his life force slipping through his fingers like sand draining inside of an hourglass. He can feel this presence even now, crowding his dimming senses, brushing invisible hands through his hair as Jason’s breath begins to catch in his throat and blood bubbles along his lips. This more familiar presence evokes a strangely protective sense of warmth whenever it arrives. It envelopes him in something ethereal and cool, smooth and slow, and begins to melt away the agony of that of which this primordial being was inflicting.
He knows It had arrived to walk him along a well-trodden path that invokes an unrelenting, familiar sense of deja vu. To take him away from this being that had ruined everything Jason had hoped to gain in his future.
Jason breathes out once more; eyelids fluttering closed as his struggling lungs fail to draw in oxygen. He feels cold fingers brush along the goosebumps on his arms, but the sheer nostalgia in this mysterious, gentle touch allows him to simply. Fade away.
This place, where nothing seemed to hurt and walking down the winding path felt as comforting as sitting on his mother’s lap as a child whilst she read to him in hushed tones, was as familiar to Jason as the blue in his eyes. It was a reprieve; a constant that helped him to ground himself as this Entity continued their soul-cracking efforts to break him. (They are ruining him over and over again in ways that not even the Joker had managed.) Jason blinks as he feels fingers intertwine with his, a second hand coming up to gently lift his chin and direct his gaze into a sad, affectionate smile that allows his lungs to finally expand once more and fills him with a sense of deep reminiscence. He knows, without asking, that the presence had accompanied him here along the winding path. It knew that he wouldn’t stay long, he never did, but it never failed to remain at his side in the moments in which he had never felt more alone.
Death had always welcomed his visits with her, after all.
“As soon as you leave here, they will take you, and they will attempt to destroy you. They will never find what they’re searching for within you. Not if you continue to resist them.”
“What the fuck are they searchin’ for? I ain’t nothin’ special. Look what the fuck happened last time I thought that. And who the fuck are they?”
“That was not your fault, Jason Todd. None of this is. It is so far beyond you and that world entirely.”
“That’s what you said before. I don’t fuckin’ believe you.”
“It is not your fault, my champion.” The unknown voice turns fond and almost amused. “I do not understand how we can have this conversation every time we meet despite you having no memory of the previous exchange. You remain stubborn and self-loathing in the face of Death no matter how many times you encounter it face to face.”
“So that’s what this shit is? What you are? Why the fuck would I keep comin’ back?”
A somber sigh. “If it were up to me, you would have been granted your peace after your first death. Despite your young age, you had already experienced so much hurt and done so much good that you had earned that right.”
“Not even Death itself can save me from being Fate’s punching bag, then, huh?”
“No, I cannot.” A deep breath. “But I can aid you in your fight. I can offer you something that may give you a chance to win. I was too late to reach you in your first life. I will not fail you this time.”
A disbelieving snort sounds from the younger voice. “I failed the last time. Not you.”
“You nearly won the last time, at great cost to yourself. Your near win may have meant the end of your original universe, and that timeline as well, and yet you had nearly defeated your destined foe without ever having reached your true potential. You snagged Fate’s attention with your deeds. And so they replaced the Jason Todd of this universe with this version of your soul. They desire to see what you are truly capable of; enough so that they granted you another opportunity to unleash the bindings locking away your potential. Do you know what that could mean for this world? For you?”
“I never had a choice, now, did I?” Fire crackled around them, and shadows seemed to grow within the eternal space they resided within. The silence reigns for a stretch of time before Jason’s young voice breaks it; tone hardened with resolve. “What do I have to do?”
“I will discuss this topic with you at length.” Death says, tone almost motherly. “But first; what do you remember of Ducra of the Mist’s lessons on heinous magic?”
“I haven’t thought about that in a while. Hey, is this going to be a universe where the All Caste survives too? Because that would be fuckin’ awesome if I am goin’ against that fuckin’ beast again.” There’s a confused scoff to his tone, but Jason answers. “Heinous magic is a near-forgotten bloodline, even among the ranks ‘a the All Caste. Ducra said they were called The Umbras and that they were wiped out ages ago. That they’re humans born with magical abilities more powerful than any other sorcerer, even among the likes of elementals.”
Death sounds pleased. “They are also known as Champions of Death; my dearest warriors. Born and fated to protect the universe itself from a being the likes of which even I am hard-pressed to fight alone. They are the only creature whose blood can seal away this Being. I had thought I would watch every universe fall due to the extinction of my warriors, until I felt your soul enter my realm the very first time and your spirit signature reached out.”
“I am not a fucking Umbra. I’m just me. I’m a fuckin’ useless ex-street rat, without any special or magical abilities, just so ya know.”
“Because you’ve denied your true nature, but seeing as you are also the bearer of the All-Blades in a way that transcends death and time itself, you are merely lying to yourself.” Death snaps back. “You are an Umbra, a champion of mine, and you cannot hide from your blood forever. This universe shall fall like the others in which you died too soon in. But you have the power to stop it. To lock away The Untitled for good by sealing away their Creator.”
“I thought this universe was a chance for me to never have to see that fucking thing ever again.” Jason admits after another long stretch of silence, sounding almost pained. “It took away everything. And now I have to do it all over again?”
“You are not alone in this universe, my Champion. I will personally see to it that The All Caste lives on. I admit that I had been… caught off guard, the last time. I should have been watching them far more closely. You shall have ample opportunity and my assistance in swaying Essence back onto the path of loyalty to her kind. You will have many trusted allies that you have made during this lifetime at your side. You may be too young now, and it may be too soon to tell you all that you will need to know…. But I can train you, in this realm. You will grow familiar with your bloodline and what it means for you to be my Champion. I will use my own abilities to hide your magic and conceal the truth until the time is right. And when the day comes that you need to draw upon your power, it will come to you as naturally as breathing. You will remember everything.”
There was silence once more. And then, “Are you sayin’ you’re goin’ to take my memories of this shit until the time is right, too, or am I readin’ too much into this.”
“I must, or there is the potential that you stray from the most linear path to victory. Knowing too much of the future and acting upon the desire to change things so drastically is harmful to the world of mortals.”
A sharp exhale whistles between teeth. “The Butterfly Effect.”
“Yes.”
“So I won’t remember any of our encounters? Not until, “The time is right?”
“Exactly.”
“Can I… ask one question before agreeing?” Jason’s voice hardens. “And it has to be answered with the truth. This is my only condition before I agree to become your “Champion” or whatever.”
“Of course, Jason Todd.” Death answers, their voice measured and weighed down by the depths of their honesty. “I swear it.” Thunder booms outside of the log cabin they sat within; binding Death to this Oath.
Jason’s voice trembles with vestiges of desperation when he finally gathers up the courage to voice his thoughts. “Do I…. In this lifetime, this one that I’m agreeing to be your soldier in… Do I get my family back?”
“You get back both the family you think of and so many more, Jason Todd.” Death says evenly. “Hmmm. The Umbras did always have troubles realizing how loved they could be, and you are no different. Do not ever doubt the worth of your sheer presence in the lives of those around you, for you are capable of great change even without bearing knowledge of this final altercation. Your existence in your new universe is destined to make a lasting impact, and that does not even include your journey to becoming a true Champion.”
Death gazes at the boy and strips his soul bare. It sighs in agitation. “You have a Hero’s heart, Jason Todd, like your kin before you. They believed they did not need assistance to defeat their enemies, for they wished to spare their allies by withstanding these trials alone. However, carrying this weight on their own meant that they lost faith when it mattered most. It led to their imminent downfall. If I ever were to gift you a warning, it would be this: When you need it most, lean on your allies. Do not go about this alone. Your magic is much stronger when it comes to the faith others hold in you, but for you to truly triumph you must fight alongside them.”
“That’s why I failed last time, huh?” Jason’s voice turns cynical as he chokes on a bitter laugh. “I was alone.”
“You were bitter, and hurting. The world did you no favors in failing to dissuade you of this, and that is how They worked to defeat you.”
“I really am my own worst enemy. Fuck.”
Rain begins to patter on the rooftop of the cabin. Death speaks as their surroundings begin to blur and lose physicality; distorting into shadows and smoke. “Become the man you had always wished you could be, Jason Todd. Become the embodiment of, “having a little faith,” as the mortals say. See the world with new eyes, and learn to love even the darkest parts of it. You just might be surprised about all of the good to be found within the bad.”
“Only then, will you triumph.”
When Jason Todd opens his eyes and takes in his first gasp of stale, rotten air, it’s to the sight of an experience he had never wished to relive. His hands and body feel smaller and weaker than he remembers. Panic begins to choke him and his nails bleed and crack as he desperately fights to tear off the belt buckle he knew could help him escape his grave. His mind flits between the present and the past, torn between two worlds, without any concrete memories lying in between his death at the hands of a shadowy figure and his current situation. All he can cling onto are the echoes of the moment Gotham had fallen and the feeling of dirt and bugs between his fingers.
Jason thinks he passes out once or twice during his escape from his coffin; suffocating in the mud.
And then finally, finally. His hands break through the surface. He can feel rain pelting the earth as he heaves himself out of the ground, coughing and choking and gagging. He cannot even hold himself up once he’s out, arms trembling before he collapses onto his face. He’s weak and shaky and panic slithers thick through his veins and turns his blood solid.
“Why? Why is this happening to me again? What is this? A parallel universe? A time anomaly? Wouldn’t be the fuckin’ first, and would explain this place, because… fuck… My Gotham was gone." Jason mumbles incoherently, tears mixing with the rain. The inside of his throat feels raw and bloody. “What the fuck. What the fuck.”
He doesn’t know how long he lays there, unable to muster up the strength to so much as twitch. The rain does its best to wash off the dirt and blood caking the suit he had been buried in.
It is night time. The sky is dark with rain clouds and pollution. There are no stars. Jason’s mind…. Fades out and back in, over and over and over again. Reality becomes incorporeal.
And then there are voices.
“General Waller, there’s a boy here. This is the source of the disturbance we detected.”
General Waller. Fuck. Jason tenses aching muscles because he recognizes that name. And it would not be good for him to be found in such a vulnerable position by that snake of a woman. He scrabbles for purchase on the dirt and grass, gritting his teeth against the pain and exhaustion and the shivers wracking his entire body, but only manages to flop onto his side. Jason’s eyes widen in panic and fury at his own body failing him at this moment.
The wet earth squelches as footsteps approach him, and stop mere feet away. Jason’s bleeding fingers curl into the mud, and baleful blue eyes glare upwards at the woman who stands at the head of a team of soldiers. Amanda Waller stares back evenly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, before it’s covered up by something like satisfaction.
“You are supposed to be dead, Jason Todd.” Her gaze trails over to the ruined grave site and the pathetic sight Jason must make.
Jason growls deep in his chest, knowing that he couldn’t physically talk back. He had screamed too much under the dirt where no one could hear him, after all, choked by tears and fury and panic. Why is she here? Did this happen before? He wonders absently.
And then, he sees the very moment that Amanda Waller comes to a decision.
“We must investigate this quietly. I will alert my superiors of my decision, but we must act with haste. This boy has clearly been returned to life in a manner unknown to us, meaning that this no longer falls under the jurisdiction of the standard police force, but rather a meta task force. This boy was found directly at the source of the anomaly. We will be detaining you in order to investigate, Mr. Todd.” Is what the woman says, voice icy cold despite the clear interest sparking in her eyes. She turns back to her men. “Leave no sign that… this, whatever it may be, ever happened. Do not let any word of this get back to Mr. Wayne.”
“Yes, General Waller.”
Jason is never given an opportunity to tell Waller just what he thinks of that idea, because then someone is approaching him with a syringe. Jason does his best to try and escape, but his body fails him once more. He barely puts up a fight as the contents of the syringe are emptied into his neck with a sharp spike of pain. Spots begin to fill his vision, Jason’s body going boneless, and the last thing that Jason Todd sees as his consciousness slips away is the expressionless face of Amanda Waller as he fucking hallucinates the echoes of a familiar-forgotten voice.
“Find your family, my Champion, find those of whom you can lean on. Only then, will you triumph. You will save this Gotham where you failed to save the last.”
A feeling of comfort washes over him, and Jason Todd finally allows himself to slip away, clinging tightly to the words.
Somewhere, in a location that has been left untouched by mortals for centuries, a great entity feared even by Death herself stirs in its slumber. Markings of all kinds cover the walls and ceilings confining it and turn the ordinary stone floors to art. The Earth rumbles with its exhale, and the Entity shifts, revealing a small crack tracing along the floor. The movement creates a tiny spider-web effect as the crack grows ever so slightly before the being settles once more.
It is not yet time for it to awaken.
Years later, deep in the belly of a government base, something cracks within the matured Jason Todd. Amanda Waller’s eyes widen in shock and disbelief as the air between them begins to hum with a feeling of otherness, and she sucks in a startled gasp as a wave of sheer power seems to flicker into life around her charge. Jason’s eyes snap open, glowing golden, and the shadows grow and dance into life around them. The shadows look as if they wish to lash out, however they remain wild and contained around the boy she had stolen and claimed as her own.
“Oh, Ghost.” Waller breathes, something like awe in her expression. She had never quite expected the true powers of the boy she had always felt would be the eventual key to her victory. Already, she could taste the desire to explore his hidden abilities on her tongue. The creatures that had begun to awaken from the depths of the Earth had always cringed at the mention of this boy’s name, and maybe now she could finally discover why. The white-haired woman who called herself Essence, confined even deeper in the bowels of this very facility, did not even hold a candle to Jason Todd’s uncanny presence in this very moment.
Innate power rippled along his very skin.
As she watches, Ghost hauls himself unsteadily to his feet. His eyes flicker; the molten gold is speckled with onyx that would come and go. Amanda Waller straightens, brushing off her blazer. Excitement softens her cold exterior, and a scheming glint enters her gaze. Ghost stands at attention, his gaze sharper and his focus more intense than it had been in years.
Finally, he speaks. “How do you know that title?”
Waller feels triumph pull her lips into a twitching grin. From the way Todd’s eyes flicker uncertainly, she is certain she must look deranged to the younger man, but he does not mention it. Waller does not answer his question, rather, she continues with her cool statements. “It threatens to wake. The Untitled have grown active enough that government entities across the board have begun to take action; entities all involving meta task forces. We have been unsuccesful in killing these creatures, and containing them proves to be a challenge. Despite intel stating that the Untitled were once numbered at nine, there is reason to believe that they are increasing in ranks. Even magical consults with the Justice League Dark have led us to a brick wall when it comes to the origins of these creatures. These creatures are far more ancient than any studies even they have come across. ARGUS remains at an impasse.”
Ghost’s eyes glint dangerously, and the shadows seem to pull in around him. They curl around his skin like silken cloth. Despite these unique new abilities he now displayed and had managed to somehow conceal from both herself and ARGUS for the past eight years, he does not lash out. Realization sparks something satisfied in Waller’s stomach. I still hold power over the boy, even now. Is the nanite truly capable of keeping him under my thumb?
“How do you know about the Untitled?” Ghost asks, voice tight with resentment.
Waller smiles, and it’s cruel. “I have reason to believe that ARGUS has been compromised, and the US Government as a whole.”
Ghost’s eyes widen, and the gold melts away, leaving his irises their original blue color. The shadows also melt into the ink on his skin as if they had never been there. Ghost’s laugh is incredulous. “Did you fuckin… Don’t tell me Amanda fucking Waller went rogue.” He truly looks to be in disbelief.
“I had noticed things changing mere days before discovering you near your grave following an anomaly- an occurrence that seemed to be a rift in time and space itself.” Waller responds, succinct. “Something told me that your existence would be the key to uncovering what had led to these changes. I have always had a particular… inkling when it came to feeling the presence of something inhuman residing near me. I have a distinct distaste for anything or anyone that is a little more than mortal, you see.” Waller admits, that same distaste curdling her words.
“I felt something off about my superiors, and took action. I have been trying to drag that magic from you for years, Ghost, but no matter how many times we killed you, you would simply come back as if nothing had happened.” She curls her lip in resentment. “You die, and you come back. And that is all. That is what my men have told me for years.” Waller gestures to Jason, who had begun to hold onto the table for support, clearly still affected by the nanite. “But I knew there was more to it. More to you. That your appearance in the graveyard just as things had begun to take a turn was no coincidence. If only I had discovered the title of that Entity sooner… If I had known that is all it would take to awaken this latent magic in you…”
Ghost’s expression had grown more closed off and wary as Waller continued to speak. He had always had good instincts, that one. His eyes dart to the door, looking for escape, and Waller’s smile turns scolding. “We are on this base with only the most loyal of my men, and subjects just like you that will aid in this mission. You are the key, Jason Todd, and I am determined to find out exactly what makes you so special.”
“Shit.” Ghost mutters, stiffening, and Waller presses the icon on her watch that would halt any chances for escape. Her charge drops like a stone at the increased voltage she had introduced with this punishment, leaving his body seizing on the floor, his head cracking into the sharp edge of the metal table as he went down. Waller’s heels click along the tile as she approaches the writhing form, mouth twisting with distaste. She holds down on her watch, pressing, pressing, pressing. Waller watches until the life bleeds out of Jason Todd, and keeps pressing for another minute after. It’s only when burns begin to stretch across his skin that she finally lets go, toeing over the listless body with a polished heel. Glazed blue eyes stare back, pulling a smirk from the woman.
“Fatal electrocution takes him how long to recover, now?” She asks the empty room, and a com clicks on to answer.
“Two minutes and fifty-three seconds, General Waller.” Says a feminine voice over the intercom.
Waller tsks, eyeing the body in disgust. If things were her way, she would eradicate any being that was more than human from the Earth, however some sacrifices would have to be made in order to protect the people of the United States. If it meant that she had to continue to keep Ghost around, and his little squad mates too until their usefulness wore off, that is what she would do.
“Then you better hurry and strap him back onto the table to begin the next trial.” Waller orders briskly. “And use the magic-inhibiting cuffs, now that he has shown his true colors.”
“Yes, boss.” The soldier responds loyally as her men spill into the room and do what their General has ordered. It is only when Ghost has been secured that her second turns back back to her with impassive eyes. “The Bats have begun their retaliation against us for stealing away Ghost, General Waller. What is our next step?”
Amanda pins the blonde woman with a gaze so sharp, it could physically cut. “Let them expose ARGUS and our deeds, it matters not in the grand scheme of things. We must find out why Ghost appears to be one of our only leads thus far in exposing the Untitled who are in positions of power. They are using this authority to expand their ranks, and we are still unaware of what exactly is supposed to happen when The Sleep truly awakens. The exposure of my treatment of Jason Todd will be a mere distraction to the Council whilst we will use this time to make headway with the Untitled. Let them handle the public fallout; they were the ones to allow the boy to be placed in my care in the first place.”
Her second looks thoughtful, and clearly works up the courage to speak up once more. “They may plan to use you as a scapegoat, General. You have done plenty of immoral things at the behest of the council, but your treatment of Jason Todd was by no choice but your own.”
“We will simply turn it back around on them, after we have exposed the Untitled.” Amanda Waller scowls at her lieutenant. “Do not question me, Lieutenant Miller. If we expose that the government has been under the discretion of beings such as them, public favor will fall to humans. I will utilize the inevitable fallout and loss of trust in the government to twist things in our favor and frame our team as the underdog. I have planned for this outcome; for Batman is no fool. The Bats will be playing right into our hands and delivering the perfect diversion. I would have to step away to attend those proceedings should it come to it, of course, and you will take the lead with things here. Can I trust you to handle that?”
“Of course, General Waller.” The Lieutenant nods, her hair unmoving from the impeccable bun she had tied it into. Waller nods in satisfaction and exits the room, leaving her Second in command in a space full of scientists and soldiers assigned to do everything they possibly could to pull apart Jason Todd in an effort to discover just what made him tick. She frowns, annoyed, as she stares at the spot the General had recently vacated. She speaks, no more than a mere whisper, frowning to herself. “My name isn’t Miller, anymore. Waller knows I’m divorced. It’s Campbell.” Shaking off her irritation, the now-named Lieutenant Campbell rested her gaze upon Waller’s prized soldier.
Ghost stares back, now fully revived and conscious. His dark gaze is uninhibited by the magic he’d displayed earlier, but it’s nonetheless intelligent and angry as the two of them lock eyes. Lieutenant Campbell returns the soldier’s searching look. She too is satisfied with what she sees in Ghost, although the man in question doesn’t seem to have found what he was looking for. Campbell fights down her ecstatic grin as she pivots on her heel and exits the room.
My brother may have been an absolute idiot, but the one thing he was good at was picking out the diamonds in the rough. You’re a very special man, Jason Todd. As expected of a soldier of your caliber. And how funny it is… You are humanity’s final hope, and yet you have not known freedom since you were a child. Always destined to play a role in someone else’s game.
The door slides closed behind the Lieutenant, hissing angrily as it locks.
A tragedy, indeed.