Not As It Seems

punishment

Jason got off the helicopter with Jade in tow, the two assassins making their way up to the headquarters. Jason stopped Jade before they could enter. "Let me talk to Deathstroke first. It is my fault we failed the mission."

Jade nodded, knowing better than to argue. And after all, it technically was his fault.

Jason watched as Jade walked down to her room, sighing as he made his way through the complex. He stopped outside the door to Deathstroke's quarters, knocking once.

"Come in." Deathstroke called, looking up from where he was sharpening his sword when Jason entered. "Ah, Red. Here to give me your mission report?"

Jason immediately bowed his head and dropped to his knees. "Forgive me, master, it was all my f-"

He stopped talking when a burning sensation filled his brain and his veins. He bit back a groan as his body stilled. He fell forward, paralyzed, looking up as Deathstroke made his way over. "Are you telling me you failed this mission, Red? A simple information extraction, and you failed?"

Jason felt his throat constrict. "It was the team of brats...they were prepared."

Deathstroke grabbed Jason by the throat and lifted him off the ground, completely blocking his airways. "And now you are making excuses? Tsk tsk, I taught you better than that Red." He growled out Jason's moniker, tightening his grip on Jason's throat as he spoke. "I do not handle failures well, you know this, Red."

He dropped Jason to the floor, watching as the teenager gasped for air through his mask. He knelt down next to Jason, pulling the katana off of Jason's back and placing it in his hand. "I am far too busy to be bothered punishing you, so you will be doing it yourself. You better follow my orders, or else."

Yeah, not like I have a choice in the matter. Jason thought bitterly, finally regaining control over his body. He sat up, holding the katana in his hand and waiting for the orders to enter his brain so he could be forced to mindlessly follow it.

Right arm.

Jason lifted the sword and slashed it down on his arm, not letting out a sound as pain flooded his body.

Again.

Jason did as he was commanded, gasping lowly when he got his next order.

Now, your throat.

Jason lifted the blade and held it to his throat, eyes never leaving Deathstroke's as the older man watched through his helmet. Jason began to put pressure, slowly dragging the blade across his neck.

"Master, p-please."

Deathstroke narrowed his eyes at Jason. "Do I hear disobedience?" Jason whimpered, shaking his head subtly as to not aggravate the blade any further. Deathstroke stared on as Jason continued to drag the blade across his throat, only stopping when he was commanded to. Deathstroke knelt next to the trembling teen, applying pressure to the neck wound. Jason looked up at him in shock. "You are still useful to me, Red. Can't have you dying, yet."

Jason nodded, eyes rolling back in his head as Deathstroke applied more pressure than was necessary.

He woke up in his chambers, bandages on his arm and neck. His mask was off, so Jason stumbled to the mirror, taking a look at his reflection. He had bags under his eyes from too many sleepless nights, nights being forced to train until he perfected the move.

And if he didn't perfect it quick enough, well, he has the scars to remind him to do better. Be faster, more agile, more deadly.

Jason lifted a hand up to his neck bandages and winced.

So much for a perfect complexion...

Jason sighed, looking over at the mask that sat on his bedside table. He went to go examine it, curiosity getting the better of him.

I wonder if I can still contact Bruce...

He was glad that Control did not allow Deathstroke to read his thoughts as well, otherwise he would be a goner by now.

Jason sat down on the bed, bringing the mask onto his lap as he tried to remember how to turn the feed back on. He was glad he turned it off before Deathstroke got his hands on the master coding for the virus swimming in his veins.

That definitely wouldn't have gone over well with Strokey Boi. I mean, imagining the look on his face when he finds out I am a double agent for Batman is hilarious.

But then again, am I now? I haven't been able to contact Bruce since this virus took over me and I am doing exactly what Deathstroke wants me to...so, what am I really? A double agent or just a plain assassin?

Jason shook the thought from his head as he tinkered with the mask, jumping in shock when he heard a faint voice coming through the comm unit in the mask.

"Jason...?"

Jason slipped the mask on and turned away from the mirror, knowing Bruce had installed cameras in his mask. "Hey...yeah...sorry its been awhile."

He heard a chuckle on the other side of the line. "I'm just glad to hear from you. Are you okay?"

Jason glanced at the mirror, looking away quickly. "Yeah...yeah, I'm good. Well, despite the fact that I have Deathstroke in my head controlling my life, I'm dandy."

Jason heard Bruce sigh from the other end. "You were the one to-"

"Put Control in me, I know. Still thought I would get it to you before anyone could get their hands on it." Jason crossed his arms, glaring at the ground. "How are things back home?"

"Well, Dick is team leader now and Tim also joined the team."

"I know all that, I meant...never mind." Jason sighed. "How's Alfie?"

"He...he misses you."

Jason smiled at that, about to respond when he felt the burning sensation fill his body once more. He let out a small groan, alarming Bruce.

"Jason? Jason, what is happening?"

"Deathstroke...taking control...gotta go." He heard Bruce call out to him but quickly turned the call off as he heard Deathstroke's voice in his head.

Red, I have a mission for you. Report to my quarters.

Jason rolled his eyes, suiting up before exiting his room, one thought on his mind.

Deathstroke is worse than Miss M when it comes to talking telepathically.