Chapter Text
“What… happened?”
Roy’s lip curled without his consent. This turned out to be a mistake. Slade turned on him with cold fire in his visible eye, stalking across the roof that separated them like a man on a mission. The darkness couldn’t hide the flash of teeth.
“I lost him,” Roy answered levelly, standing his ground. His hands tightened around his bow as Slade invaded his personal space, but he did not draw an arrow, and he did not step back. He had to crane his neck to meet the alpha’s furious gaze. The overpowering feral-enraged-frantic-dangerous-hunting scent cloying the air did not make Roy want to submit. It only made him mad.
“You lost him,” Slade repeated slowly, chewing on every syllable before spitting it out. His breath ghosted uncomfortably across Roy’s forehead. “You left your position on the roof… lead him into enemy territory… and ran away.”
Roy’s fingertips quivered. He visualized bringing his bow up in a vicious uppercut. He imagined Slade’s head snapping back, maybe even a couple of bones breaking. He saw the ensuing maneuver off the AC unit behind him that would offer enough height for his iron grip to wrap around the alpha’s shoulders, whipping around, throwing his own body back, and using the alpha’s weight to bring him down.
He did none of those things. Instead… he breathed. He grabbed two handfuls of his own feral instincts, the impulses that were running wild with the need to fix this, to find the two bonds that were shut down and haul them out of the fire and hurt anyone who got in his fucking way. He pulled down, settling those instincts on the floor of his mind, and held them there. He was in charge of this fucking train wreck. He’d wrestled his shadow into submission before. He could do it again. “Do not pretend to know how we work, Deathstroke. You’re not a part of this damn team, not yet. I made a mistake, yes. Hood covered my back on the way in. When he started chasing down another presence, I circled around to cover the exit. Hunt, route, dead end. We’ve done it a million times.”
“Then WHY,” Slade enunciated carefully, a low growl vibrating at the bottom of his words. “didn’t it WORK?”
Roy’s mouth was so dry. “We underestimated them.”
Slade punched the wall next to Roy’s head, roaring. Roy did not flinch as his nerves snapped in two. He dropped into a split, spun his legs out to force Slade back, and rolled to his feet with two knives in hand. His teeth really were bared now. He wished they were bigger.
Slade slowly straightened, a truly grotesque grin sliding across his face. “Is that a challenge, pup?”
“Please,” Roy murmured calmly as he began to circle. “underestimate me, Slade. Your ego will make fucking up your day soooooo much sweeter.”
“You have no clue what you’re dealing with.”
“I studied you.” Roy matched Slade’s grin as his chest began to heave, wired instincts preparing his body for an all-or-nothing brawl. Survival was a familiar taste on the back of his tongue. “No fucking way I wasn’t gonna learn from your attacks on the Tower. I don’t know what I’m dealing with? What about you? Do you know what you’re dealing with?”
Slade’s grin gave way to a classic snarl. His pupil was a mere slit. Roy knew his looked no better, but he had a feeling that self-control would offer the upper hand. Slade’s was slipping. “You don’t deserve the bow you carry. You don’t deserve your name.”
The anger popped, snapped like bubble wrap, and Roy had to take another steady breath. He pressed down on his bucking instincts, wrapping them around his shaking hands, and twisted. They came to heel under his steady pressure, and the memories of rejection as old as the feather in his yellow cap slunk to the back of his mind where they belonged. “I made a mistake. Going over that mistake won’t fix it.”
“Neither will working together on my lead.” Slade slapped his chest with a snarl. “I don’t need an impulsive whelp watching my back. You stay here. I will find them.”
“They are OUR pups!!!” Roy snapped back, accidentally losing slack on the reins. He scrambled to pull taut. His palms were getting sweaty against the cold metal of familiar hilts. (He refused to draw his bow. He refused to give in. He refused to let his instincts shove this asshole into that category of danger.) “If you think I’m staying on the sidelines while a feral alpha tracks my daughter, you--- Oh, that’s right, what’s your track record for rescuing pups again? Oh for three, wasn’t it?”
Slade’s dark chuckle sent a shiver down the length of Roy’s spine. That was a prey mentality he did not want to go back to. His fingers tightened around the knives. He settled into his weight…
The alpha’s anger settled into something rock hard. Roy’s nose twitched, but he didn’t have a chance to identify it before Slade was straightening, leaning casually aside, and spreading his hands. His voice was still a growl, but something had shifted, something… fragile. “I would love to take you to task, but we cannot afford to fight. Our enemies have a head start. Arguing will give them the advantage.”
Roy opened his mouth to retaliate, but his com beeped before he managed to misstep. He spun the knives back into their hidden holsters, sucked in through his nose, and allowed Slade’s irritating scent to sharpen his senses. Then, holding up a hand to stall, he answered his com. “What?”
“Where are you?”
Roy turned away just enough to offer his facial expression some privacy, keeping Slade in his line of sight. Not that he would be able to hide anything now with a combination of meta powers, feral alpha senses, and a fucking bond all giving him their full attention. “Do not pursue. I am safe.”
“Your bond is like a livewire,” Dick’s voice snapped. “Give me a lead or give me context. The last time you felt like this---”
“Hood is missing.”
A sharp silence. Then--- “Let me help.”
“No.” Roy turned his face away, giving Slade his back, and lowered his voice to mask the desperate edge creeping in. “You have to keep your distance. I can’t protect you from him. Not by myself.”
“You think I care about that? Jay is my BROTHER---”
“We have a couple of leads.” Roy glanced over his shoulder, sensing the movement before seeing it, and glared until Slade stopped approaching. “Deathstroke’s lead takes us out of the city, but Hood’s been having a lot of trouble with his mask problem. The front line on related cases has been quiet for a while. I’d bet my bottom dollar something’s up.”
“You think Mask has something to do with this?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s peripherally involved. I don’t think he has the manpower to pull this off, but…” Roy huffed impatiently. He could practically feel Slade’s instincts vibrating with dangerous anger across their stilted bond. “Look… We’re a loose canon here. We have to pick a direction or we’re both gonna go fucking insane. Slade’s lead is the most promising; I need you to investigate on the home front. Don’t go alone, and don’t spread word. We don’t need Crime Alley knowing their protector is MIA.”
“Roy… are you sure?”
“Am I sure I can work with Deathstroke, find my daughter, or get your brother back in one piece?” Roy’s nerves sparked. He ignored the looming presence over his shoulder. “Stay in Gotham, stay buddied up, and stay whelmed. I’ll keep you posted, I promise.”
“Fine. Let me know the second you need help. I’ll bring backup.” Dick’s voice lowered. “You’re not alone, Roy.”
His throat ached. Roy signed off, turned on the alpha two inches from his face, and snarled. The sound reverberated through his bones, playing off of purring mechanics to create vibrations too soft, too sharp to be heard. It wasn’t as loud as a rumble… but it was just as dangerous. “Back… the fuck… up.”
Slade took a single step away, growling in return. The combination of sounds had the gravel bouncing under Roy’s feet. “This is your last chance to stay behind, pup. You will only slow me down.”
It was painful, the hold he had to keep on his impulses to fight. That was all he amounted to at the end of the day, wasn’t it? A stumbling block; an obstacle; a hindrance to every more powerful teammate around. Slade was only repeating what---
Roy closed his eyes as his senses went haywire, breathing out. His patience allowed understanding to click twofold. Slade was scared… and Roy was his own most powerful asset. “There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t said to myself.”
Slade’s overwhelming scent wrapped around Roy’s instincts, closing in on all sides, and their bond flooded with angry dominance. The bounty hunter was not used to controlling his instincts instead of the other way around, and it showed. He was pressing back against Roy’s will, challenging, daring him to react.
He was scared. Scared for Jason… like Roy was scared for his pup.
Roy opened his bond wide, letting Slade tumble in without a hint of resistance. Instead of coming up against a wall of spiky attacks like the alpha had been expecting, he was suddenly tangled in Roy’s every emotion, every impulse, every color-saturated thought that rippled with alarm and fear and determination born only in those who had torn their nails off fighting to survive.
Slade’s growl fell to a surprised halt. Roy tipped his chin back, letting the alpha sit in his head, in the noise, in the emotion, and drew his own mental space into a single point of focus. Find my packmates.
“Put on scent blockers or control your scent,” Roy purred into stunned silence. He spread his hands to mimic his open bond, offering himself completely vulnerable to feral instincts ready for a fight. “Three fucking strikes, Slade.”
Slade’s eye flashed. Slowly… deliberately… he rolled his shoulders back, leaning out of Roy’s personal space. As his joints pressed toward his spine, his scent retracted, disappearing with dizzying speed, and his presence across Roy’s bond backtracked just as fast. Then--- they were gone. The only trace that Slade Wilson had been on this roof was whatever hadn’t been swept away on the chilly night air.
Roy held his hand out, careful to keep all disrespect from his tone. “Truce?”
Slade slapped their palms together, squeezing only a bit too tight. “Truce.”
“I have no idea who they’re working for… even the man I interrogated didn’t seem to know… but they’re a third party. Someone I am… unfamiliar with.”
Arsenal forced himself not to smile. Smiling would be a misstep. “You don’t sound too pleased about that.”
Deathstroke took a knee for the third time in as many minutes, checking the faint tracks Roy could see perfectly from here. They had only abandoned their bikes when it had become obvious via closing trees around what was probably a country property that they were getting close. To what they weren’t sure of. Not the end. Just another clue. “I know everyone, pup. That I wouldn’t know an organization operating in such a stealthy capacity does not bode well. Either they are very new… or very covert.”
“They’re meeting here?” Arsenal grabbed onto a low tree branch. “I’ll head topside. Maybe---”
Deathstroke’s emotion shifted, slotting across the length of their bond; an edge of pure hunter instinct. Arsenal pinned himself to the tree, blending in with the shadows, and stopped breathing. He barely registered the arrow in his hand as he started scanning the trees.
Deathstroke finally moved, stepping back onto the trail with an irritated growl. “Nothing.”
“No, it was definitely something.” Arsenal tried to shake off the way he’d tuned in so immediately to his alpha’s cues, pointing to the right. “This place is privately owned; a lakeside house that isn’t currently occupied. They wouldn’t use the building itself to perform an exchange… Just the property. The docks are that way; the hills are east. Whatcha wanna bet they’re shipping out?”
Deathstroke rested his masked chin in his hand, quiet. He narrowed his eyes at the tracks, then at the direction they had come from. His eye narrowed. “It could be a false trail.”
“I think it---” Arsenal shifted uncomfortably, glancing left. Deathstroke’s presence went completely silent. The alpha turned, brushing against Arsenal’s back, to stare in the opposite direction. His feral anger sharpened across their bond, focusing on a single point--- The vibrating bowstring of Arsenal’s instincts.
Arsenal breathed out. “Nothing.”
“We are not both sensing nothing.” Deathstroke drew his rifle with a heavy hand, crouching to peer back toward the road. “They are here.”
“So do we split up or do we make a decision?”
“This trail smells the strongest.”
“We can’t trust our noses alone; we’re not animals.” Arsenal tugged his simmering annoyance back down. “I don’t think they were prepared to get the drop on Hood. Call me crazy, but whoever this is doesn’t know you’re on their trail. They’ll be prepared for me an’ maybe other Arrows, not you.”
Deathstroke’s helmet cocked in Arsenal’s direction, hiding his good eye in shadow. “Meaning?”
Arsenal pointed at the tracks. “They left too many clues. They weren’t this sloppy before. That means they want us to go this way, to follow the obvious scent. It leads away from the docks on the lake. I say we head there.”
“Do you now?”
Arsenal’s hackles raised--- They were not about to fight this close to their goal--- but his head snapped up as something else caught his attention. “D’you hear that?”
Deathstroke looked to the sky. “Helicopter.”
“Three miles out?”
“Five. We are feral.”
Arsenal folded his bow up with a flick of his wrist, anchoring it to the special magnet at his hip before booking it through the trees. Fortunately, it seemed Deathstroke agreed with him on this point. The alpha darted through the forest to his right, faster, but louder. Arsenal put distance between them. If they needed to kick ass at the docks, it would give them an advantage to emerge from different---
A gun cocked several yards to the left. Arsenal rolled at the last second, whipped his bow into his hand, and pulled an arrow back before the metal had fully unfolded. The rounds peppered the dirt where he’d been two seconds previous, then stopped when his arrow found its mark. He spun around to the east, aiming at the second one. He couldn’t see them even with heightened night vision--- he could only hear. He heard them aim at him as he shot off--- and heard them hit the ground as they fell from their perches in the trees. Then Deathstroke was breathing down his neck, covering his back, and Arsenal settled into a more careful sweep as his alpha’s rifle took care of anyone approaching from the northwest.
“We don’t have time for this,” he growled over the sound of gunfire. “The copter has already landed. If we don’t---”
Arsenal tagged one of the fleeing men with a tracker arrow that bounced off after making its mark. “They’re trying to kill us? I thought they wanted---”
“Oh, they do want you.” Deathstroke held up a stun round, shooting the last of the snipers from the trees, and flicked it at Arsenal’s head as he sprinted through the shadows. “They’re loading up.”
Arsenal followed with his heart in his throat, keeping an arrow drawn. He barely felt the branches whipping at his skin or the roots tripping up his feet. His focus was the approaching clearing--- and the rising helicopter. “Shit!!!”
Deathstroke froze at the treeline, every muscle tensed, and stared at the copter like his glare alone could bring it back down. Arsenal didn’t waste time on fruitless questions; he pulled back an arrow, took a second to aim between the downdraft, and let loose. The draw weight wasn’t enough; it fell short by three or four feet, spinning back down to earth. He drew another as his throat closed up, ignoring the armed men on the beach. No no no no no---
“STOP,” his alpha shouted. Arsenal hit one knee as the command reached around his spine, through his ribs, and out the other side. His heartbeat stuttered at he tried to resist; his bow quivered in one hand. The sheer force of will was too strong, too visceral, too much--- “Wha’ the fuck?”
Deathstroke stalked past him with heavy steps, deliberately weighted, and Arsenal realized for the first time--- He was not the target. The men at the docks had frozen, too. Five of them, all on their knees; all disarmed. Deathstroke leaned into one’s face, growling so loudly that Arsenal’s knees could feel it from here, and asked a question he couldn’t hear. The man whimpered some sort of answer. Deathstroke, apparently, was not pleased with this. His bond shifted in Arsenal’s mental peripheral, lashing out at something he couldn’t see. The man lost control of his tears, snot, and bladder all at once. Then he slumped, completely still.
Arsenal struggled to his feet, swallowing bile. It wasn’t fear, it was… foreboding. He hadn’t realized this whole time just how thoroughly Slade Wilson had been playing by the rules. “Didju kill him?”
“With my scent?” Deathstroke stood up, peering after the disappearing copter. “No. He’s only fainted. He did tell me where they were going, and I don’t think it was a lie.”
“Can we get there first?”
“To the Gila Wilderness? In a very fast plane.”
“You never told me how you managed it.”
Roy squinted at the forest beneath them. It was long past dawn, but thankfully, the ride had been stilted, uneventful, and silent until now. His eyes burned even in the gray light filtering through the heavy winter clouds. “I manage a lot of things.”
Slade flicked a few switches. “Stealing the Batplane?”
“I had inside help.”
“You don’t think he won’t follow you?”
“I trust my friends,” Roy muttered sullenly, but he checked his bond with Dick anyway. It was steady, but distant. He was nowhere near New Mexico. “There’s the Gila River. We should touch down before we get any further.”
“Why? This is faster; we still have no idea where in the wilderness they are.”
“Then we’ll track them from below. You should know better than anyone that prey will hide if they can see you coming. We’ll never get close enough to make them from up here.”
Slade’s rumble was a sharp one as he began to take them down. It wasn’t personal--- Roy could feel it in himself, too. The edge of fear slowly eroding his reserves of sanity. Going feral this badly was a very slippery slope, and try as he might, he was barely slowing it down by clawing at the ledge. Sooner or later… one of them was going to snap.
“You really do dislike my presence.”
Roy almost groaned something about not starting a fight, especially not in the fucking air, but something about Slade’s tone caught him flatfooted. He gave the sulking alpha a side eye. “You seem surprised about that.”
Slade chuckled darkly. It did nothing to mask his sour mood, but his scent, as wordlessly promised, stayed under wraps. “You said during your heat that you’d always known I was trustworthy.”
“I’m not responsible for what I say in heat.” Roy crossed his arms grouchily, but something nervous niggled at his instincts, and he couldn’t tell why. “The fun drugs make me truthful. The heats make me lie.”
“I don’t think you’re capable of telling a lie.”
“Then you obviously don’t know me very well.”
Slade ran his tongue over his teeth. Roy knew what that meant, so he fell into a surly silence, allowing the mutual frustration to simmer down. He didn’t think Slade would actually try to bite him by force, not since they were bonded now. Still… Hadn’t he tried that with Jason?
“I knew something was off about that,” Slade finally growled, avoiding Roy’s gaze as he finally set them down in a relative clearing between the trees. “I did have to put on a show for a claim. I suppose I thought even the trust I tricked out of you would have lasted longer.”
“Why are you so hung up on this?” Roy stood quickly, putting distance between them, and slung on some extra gear. Just… for the road. Bitter ego curdled in the back of his throat despite his best efforts. “You wish that claim was your doing.”
“I convinced you over instead of forcing submission,” Slade argued with a steady edge. “I don’t suppose that counts.”
Roy stalked down the ramp, smirking. “I let you.”
“What?”
He spun around, arching his neck to grin in the alpha’s face. “I let you claim me, Slade. How do you feel about that?”
Slade took half a step back, a million emotions flitting across his eye before shuttering under a mask of stoic professionalism. “You gave in against your better judgment.”
“Yeah, I did, and y’know why else? To keep a fucking eye on you.” Roy jabbed a finger at Slade’s armored chest, fully aware that he risked losing it. “I couldn’t protect Jason from the outside. I am in control.”
“You,” Slade spit out, visibly wrestling for control over every muscle in his body. “needed a father.”
Roy stepped back, too, trying his hardest to ignore the aching pressure in his chest. Father, Slade had said. Not an alpha, not leader, not even mentor, but father. Slade knew more than Roy had ever wanted him to. “Fuckoff.”
“No, please explain why you letting me makes sense when all I felt in here---” Slade jabbed at their bond, causing Roy to draw back reflexively, guard slamming up. “was the bitter sting of abandonment. Please explain to me how you have the power now.”
“Fuck… off.” Roy bit out, louder this time, and his fists curled around nothing, nothing because he refused to draw a weapon--- “I don’t like you, I don’t trust you, but I let you claim me anyway. The rest is none of your fucking business. Do NOT try me, old man.”
“Or you’ll what?” Slade’s grin was positively dangerous, but something else was there, too… Something Roy couldn’t pick up on, not this feral, not this mad. “Break our bond?”
Quiet satisfaction invaded the spinning mess of emotion in Roy’s mind. His shoulders stilled. “You don’t think I’ll do it.”
“Of course you---”
“I am not Jason, Slade. I can--- and have--- survived breaking my own fucking bonds.” Roy’s jaw locked. He felt solid all of a sudden. Grounded. Zoned completely in. “I will do it again.”
“Who…” Slade’s eye narrowed. “Your… mate.”
Roy pushed his shoulders back, crossed his arms, and glared. “Initiating that was the second hardest thing I have ever done. I am not afraid of you, Slade; not after her. Make no mistake about where you stand.”
“Tsk,” a familiar voice purred, injecting icy dread down Roy’s spine. Quiet, cunning alpha scent, the kind with an edge that made the scar on his shoulder start to burn, slunk into the clearing. She appeared in the shadows not long after, her mask’s signature grin standing out against the trees. “If you speak of the devil…”
Slade’s lip lifted as cold, furious realization washed across their bond. “Cheshire.”