With Morality Like a Polynomial

Could You Still Show Me Your Light?

trigger warning for implied/referenced rape/non-con/dub-con, nonconsensual drug use, swearing, depictions of violence, torture and unreliable narration

"this shouldn't hurt, but it may feel uncomfortable."

"let's just get it over with."

Martian Manhunter nodded mutely, sitting straight in the chair across from Red Arrow. The two chairs were a few steps from Red Arrow's hospital bed, which he wouldn't be returning to once this conversation was over now that he was cleared by the doctors.

Around them stood Batman, Black Canary, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow and Superman. Waiting patiently but still as on edge as they had been since Red Arrow had stated that the mercenary he'd fought was Deathstroke the second.

Manhunter relaxed his shoulders and widened his mental presence, carefully and gently entering Red Arrow's open mind. He pushed past the surface thoughts and emotions flitting around and delved into his memories.

As he exhaled the world around him seemed to desaturate, paling and greying at the edges. His head became filled with images of a rooftop at night in the middle of Happy Harbour. Red Arrow's memories were skewed slightly by the injuries (see: head trauma) achieved in the night but after some attention on Manhunter's part he could piece it all together well enough.

The world tilted slightly as Roy rose up the side of the building, scaling with precision and skill. He made nigh on no sound as he climbed to the top.

The shadows were thick and long, cascading around the site with a heavy weight to them that covered up nigh on every detail. However after some searching across the several roofs on the block he managed to discover the assassin hiding in the shadows of one of the rooftop staircase exits, wedged between the wall and some kind of machinery that was rumbling lowly. Roy could spy the slightest glint of a screen somewhere in the shadows but other than that he could only decipher a vaguely human shaped figure in the darkness.

No matter. He pulled his bow and aimed an arrow, notching it squarely as he had thousands, millions, of times before.

Manhunter flitted past the words Red Arrow spoke, paying little attention to them as he watched the assassin tense ever so slightly and turn his head just a millimetre as Roy drew closer, having noticed the vigilante's presence before he'd even spoken.

And then he raised his arms and stood and turned, standing so effortlessly relaxed.

Manhunter catalogued the appearance of this new Deathstroke. The armour was akin to Slade Wilson's had been with a few structural changes and personal additions or subtractions. The suit Wilson had been running around in the past few years was different to what he'd worn when-

Manhunter cut the thought off and pushed on, forcing himself to ignore the flare-up of emotion in his chest. He pushed it down, where it belonged, and once more made sure his expression was schooled.

"oh no," the assassin said, stepping into the light, "I'm completely at your mercy."

Manhunter grabbed onto the words and tugged them into his mind and ran them through against every memory in his head, as well as Red Arrow's, trying to draw a comparison to someone else's voice.

Nothing. No one.

"wouldn't you like to know?" Deathstroke asked in reaction to Roy's attempt at conversation. He'd learned from almost every hero who'd fought against the mercenary- don't try to beat him, especially not alone. Distract him from the job until he can't complete it and then he'll leave- he doesn't care past the pay check. Distract him till then or till back up can arrive.