Fruition Of Lies

Like A Puppet

"And whosoever shed man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." -The Boondock Saints

"Does Jason know what?" He rasped, sitting up slowly, the movement tugging slightly at his new stitches.

Nightwing and Deathstroke were staring at each other, weapons partially drawn and ready to attack. Deathstroke looked calm, but angry, and Nightwing was looking rather terrified.

Jason stood, but not fully, and placed a hand over his side, "What's going on?" He growled, looking between his two friends.

Nightwing shook his head, shuffling the clothing in his hands, its bright gold ornaments briefly catching Jason's eye, before he focused on Slade. Deathstroke, it seems, moved, finally drawing his sword, and pointed towards the hero, "Well, Nightwing, now that Jason's awake, why don't you tell him what you really are," He said, eyeing the young man carefully. This thing was not to be trifled with.

Confused, Jason asked, "What's he talking about Wing?" Jason studied the cloth in Nightwing's hands a bit more, looking for answers, but receiving none. It looked like it was a uniform of some kind, but it was too bunched up to tell. "What's that you're holding?"

Nightwing shook his head rapidly, glancing from Jason to the tip of Slade's sword, nervous, and took a step back. He drew a small throwing knife from his gauntlet, and held it in front of himself, defensively.

"Birdie?"

Deathstroke suddenly lunged at Nightwing, catching his move to escape before Jason had even seen it. Snagging Nightwing and knocking the blade from his hand, Slade held him tightly and placed the sword against Wing's neck, making sure he didn't apply to much pressure, yet.

"Slade, fucking stop! What the hell are doing? Let him go!" Jason roared, conveniently grabbing a gun from the coffee table as he moved towards the duo. He kept the gun aimed at the floor, hoping he could talk Slade down before it came to shots. What the fuck was going on? What had he missed?

Slade huffed, "No. I can't do that. You don't know what this Monster is capable of," He spat, a sneer spreading across his lips, "I'd be doing you a favor by killing it now," He added, slicing a thin strip along Wing's neck. Blood started to well up around the blade, but it wasn't red. It was more of a faint blue. "I've tangled with his kind before," He gestured at Wing with his head, "It never ends well."

Jason brought up his gun,finally, pointing it as Slade. He wasn't going to be able to talk him out of this one. "What do you mean? He's not a monster and I trust him with my life! Let him go or I will shoot you Slade." This was not going well, Jason thought. One wrong move and Wing was dead, "What do you mean 'his kind'?

"He's not your friend," Slade reached his hand up and gripped the edge of Nightwing's mask, causing him to thrash wildly in his hold, "He's not human, and I'll show you," He spoke, ripping the mask of Nightwing's face, revealing his eerie yellow eyes, now filling with tears. Nightwing made whining noises and slammed his eyes shut, not willing to let Jason see them any longer.

Jason didn't react right away, too busy taking in his friends strange features. Why were his eyes like that? What happened to him? Why was he so scared to let Jason see?

"Let him go Slade. Now," Jason spoke again, and Nightwing dropped the fabric to the floor with a 'clank,' trembling lightly in Slade's grasp.

"I'm sorry Jason, but I can't do that," Slade shook his head sadly, "He's a Talon, and I will not allow it to run around unchained any longer," Slade -no, Deathstroke said, "It must be put down, like the dog it is," and with that, he dragged his blade across Wing's throat, slowly -brutality- efficiently slicing through the skin, leaving a deep gash as blood began to coat the blade. Wing started choking and coughing blood out of his mouth, staining his white skin dark.