For merfilly!
Title: The Cruelest Cut of All
Characters: Dinah Lance, Slade Wilson, Oliver Queen, JLA
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1952
Disclaimer: DC owns.
AN: For merfilly! Happy belated Birthday! Inspired by coldfiredragon’s Summer of Clichés Fic-a-thon, prompt #13- amnesia
He watched them like he sometimes did during and after their battles. He liked to keep tabs on the various incarnations of the team to see which improved, or in this case, worsened. He wasn’t surprised that Darkseid and his minions had been stopped, but he was surprised that he had nearly decimating the entire League. Now they all lay motionless beneath the rubble of the various buildings their fight destroyed. Black smoke filled the sky but the fires had stopped burning. Or been stopped, he couldn’t be sure because once he saw her lying among the injured, he stopped paying attention to everyone and everything else.
The speedster, hurt and limping, could only carry one of his fallen teammates at a time. He had just taken Batman and in a few minutes, would be back to carry another one off to safer surroundings. Deathstroke moved fast and came out of his hiding place. He lifted the petite blond, who he thought, looked almost peaceful if you ignored the blood and dirt on her face.
…
“Where is she?!” Ollie slammed his hands down rattling the table.
“J’onn, Bruce, and Ralph are looking into it,” Clark replied as soothingly as possible.
Ollie shook his head, he looked about ready to tear his hair out, “That’s not good enough!”
Diana placed her hand on the archer’s shoulder, “We will find her.”
…
She looked out over the valley and mountain tops. The trees were lush with leaves and buds about to blossom. The small river below snaking through the valley was where she was heading. It was beautiful, but as unfamiliar as everything else. She remembered nothing of her life before waking up in the small cottage, and though she felt she should be doing something, the urge diminished with each passing day. Her mind wasn’t in the turmoil she’d expect from someone in her condition. It was as though her memories were sleeping, resting, gathering strength for when she’d really need them.
She knew things, average everyday things. She knew that the clear, blue space above her was the sky. She knew the colorful objects flying in the sky were birds. She knew there was something about the bow and arrow she was supposed to train with that bothered her for some reason, but she could not figure out why. She did have a lot of scars she couldn’t explain. Maybe an arrow had pierced her flesh once, ripping through, shredding, hurting her. Maybe that was why she handled it with such care at first. One thing she was certain of, it would never harm her again.
Her injuries had nearly healed. She moved almost entirely without pain. Her days were spent training, reading, and walking through the hills. She wasn’t sure what her life had consisted of before but she had an odd sense of relief to finally have some time to herself. She experienced peace like she doesn’t think she ever had before, though, if she was completely honest with herself, she would admit there was a little voice whispering to her that she should flee, run and never look back, but she ignored it, pushed it further away until one day she couldn’t hear it anymore.
All the new memories she had were of things he had taught her. And the way her body responded to his movements, his attacks, she knew she’d been a warrior of some kind. And he must have known her, for he knew exactly what she was capable of and when and where to push. He wasn’t gentle or kind, like she vaguely felt many had been to her at one time. Her father. Maybe her mother. She couldn’t see them clearly, but she’d had many dreams where their faceless bodies laughed with her, talked with her, and hugged her like she was the most precious jewel in the world. She knew she had been loved by them, but she also knew they were no longer with her. Maybe that was why she didn’t try to remember. Maybe her previous lonely life was worth forgetting.
Regardless, the man she lived with now wasn’t cheerful and didn’t smile often, but there wasn’t any animosity or malice for her in his quick blue eye either. He watched her intently and spoke very little of her old life whenever she asked, which only happened twice.
The first time she asked why he was helping her. He simply answered that they had worked together before. He did not tell her that their working together now would not be as mutually beneficial as it had been back then. This time, it suited his purposes more than her own.
The second time she wondered about her past, she asked if she’d been married. She noticed the slight difference in skin color at the base of her ring finger. He replied she had for a short while, but her husband had failed her on more than one occasion. He didn’t specify that the foolish archer had been unfaithful many times before their marriage or that he had allowed his wife to get hurt during a battle while he remained safely elsewhere. Green Arrow, along with a few others, had not been summoned to the face Darkseid because everything happened so quickly and there had been no time to do so, but Slade didn’t care to consider this.
He told her to study, to concentrate, to focus and she did it all with ease, but not without arguing with him first. She didn’t like him trying to order her around. Who did he think he was? It didn’t matter that she couldn’t remember who she had been, she knew who she had become and no way in hell was he going to tell her what to do.
He was pleased that not all of who she had been vanished. The only time she saw him smile was when she fought him, with words or blows, and she secretly did both more often because of it.
…
The sun had set and it was snowing harshly outside. They sat close to the fire to stay warm.
“Think you’re ready?” he asked twirling a small knife in his hand. He watched her face for her reaction.
The reds and yellows of the fire reflected hypnotically off his knife and she nodded without looking away from it, “We both know it’s time.”
If she would have glanced at him then, the sinister looked that flashed across his face would have chilled her like the outside weather could never manage.
…
“It’s only an old warehouse break-in. I can take this one,” Green Lantern assured the other League member, “We’re only being sent because it’s-”
“Look,” Green Arrow warned his friend, “Just because it’s my first assignment back doesn’t mean you treat me with kid gloves, all right?”
Lantern took a deep breath, “All right.” He knew Ollie was still hurting. They all were. But it had been four months since Dinah’s disappearance and he didn’t look any better now than he did the day they found out about it.
“It’s Deathstroke!” Ollie growled with perverse satisfaction. Beating the mercenary senseless would sure make him feel better. He flew ahead eager for a fight. He jumped out of his plane landing next to the one eyed assassin, “You never learn do you?”
“Actually,” Slade replied, watching as a figure stepped out of the shadows aiming a sword at the back of Green Arrows head, “I do.”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Green Lantern’s ring encased the figure, lifting the large green hand that held Deathstroke’s new partner high above the ground.
In one swift move, the archer had an arrow pointed at Deathstroke’s head and his fingers had never itched more to release the fletching.
Lantern looked more closely at the individual he had in the ring’s grasp, “No. It can’t be. Dinah?”
“What?” Arrow looked up and was stunned to see the piercing blue eyes, flowing gold tresses, and her famed fishnets. “Put her down!” He ordered and watched as his wife landed softly beside him. His face lit up and he took a step towards her. All his sleepless nights and the nightmare filled ones didn’t matter now because she was standing before him. Alive. Breathing. She looked thinner and the colors of her costume were different. He didn’t like the blue and orange of her jacket, but… “It is you!”
She narrowed her eyes. The green…the beard…he looked familiar…
She knew him.
“Pretty bird?”
His voice…those words…triggered something and memories rushed through her, making her dizzy and left her feeling overwhelmed. She saw their arguments, broken promises, remembered feeling dejected, heartbroken when she discovered betrayal after betrayal, so much loss, so much pain…all at his hands. She looked up into his green eyes. He was her husband and he had failed her just like Slade said he had, “You don’t call me that ever!”
“Dinah, it’s me…”
With the sword still in hand, she attacked. She sliced, kicked, punched all with the intent to hurt him like he had hurt her.
Slade watched from a few feet away, incredibly pleased.
Green Lantern couldn’t believe what was happening below him. He had to stop Dinah or she would kill Ollie. He flew only a few yards when Deathstroke was suddenly on him having jumped off the building behind him. They fell to the ground with a painful, hard thud.
…
“What happened?” J’onn asked.
Ollie stood up without the aid of the offered hand. He ignored the inquiry and the curious looks of his teammates. It hurt to move, but he walked over to where Hal lay. He was bloodied and broken, but his chest still rose and fell with every breath. Ollie was sure he looked just as bad as his friend did, but that didn’t matter.
His Pretty Bird was gone, lost to him again. This time…possibly forever. He collapsed next to Hal and didn’t try to hide the tears that poured out.
…
“You did well,” Slade praised her as he watched the archer break and relished every second of it.
“I know,” the petite blond replied.
He finally turned away from the pitiful scene when the Martian carried them off. He watched her then. Her back was to him and her hands were still balled into fists at her sides. Her blond hair danced with each gust of wind that hit them.
“What is it?” he asked narrowing his eye.
“You lied.”
His arms crossed over his chest, but despite his casual demeanor, he was ready for anything she might attempt.
She looked at him over her shoulder, blue eyes colder and more distant than he’d ever seen before, “You said we worked together once…”
The tension in his muscles eased, “Your point?”
“…there was more, wasn’t there?”
He didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to; she knew his answer simply by the way he looked at her. She had known it since the first time they trained and his nostrils flared ever so slightly when she was close, pressed against him, her back to his front. He was savoring, reliving, anticipating more.
She’d give him more, she’d wanted to for a while, but not yet. No, not yet. He would have to earn it, prove he was worthy. And he could start by helping her get rid of everyone who had ever crossed her. Their first stop would be Metropolis.
The twist of her pretty lips could have been a smile or sneer, he couldn’t tell, the setting sun behind her was blinding. She turned away from him and watched the day end as a new night was born.