DCU: Blacklist

[FTR2017]

I'm sorry, what? I don't remember that.

Click to shrink...

This didn't happen in this Miles' canon life ... but it could've happened in a divergent version of him.

That's what I'm alluding to.

Multiversal Headaches: Now get some aspirin!

 

[LuckyRobert]

He took a long, slow breath to still his heart. "What I did should not constitute anything to be punished by him." He was not a wicked individual, unless throwing Vandal Savage to the sun counted as wicked.

"Not him directly. The fate you consigned the immortal to have changed too many events in the future. You have presumed to override fate. This was a mere warning for your hubris," the Phantom Stranger warned.

Click to shrink...

Fuck free will, am I right? I never understood how fate and destiny could have a role in DC when the biblical God is around with their whole "free will" thing. I mean I guess I can see how it would work out as a "you have free will, but your actions have consequences" kind of thing, but it feels like a cheap way for the writers to maintain the status quo. I get that the big G isn't against this kind of thing and only his minions are throwing a hissy fit, but it still rubs me wrong.

 

[Shinja]

Fuck free will, am I right? I never understood how fate and destiny could have a role in DC when the biblical God is around with their whole "free will" thing. I mean I guess I can see how it would work out as a "you have free will, but your actions have consequences" kind of thing, but it feels like a cheap way for the writers to maintain the status quo. I get that the big G isn't against this kind of thing and only his minions are throwing a hissy fit, but it still rubs me wrong.

Click to shrink...

Because comic writers are hacks that try to do something 'creative' at the cost of basically blue-balling themselves in the future, or screwing with stuff already in place since 40 years ago, which is why DC and Marvel have had so many 'restarts'.

 

[G1 Convoy]

TFTC.

The safest option was Constantine. He had dealings with higher cosmic entities, and the risk of drawing in further divine punishment was negligible. Unless they made a mess of things.

Click to shrink...

I was going to make a joke about how down bad you are, if John Constantine is your safest bet, but since he was using Phantom Stranger as an intermediary, I guess there's less of a chance for him to piss off someone.

 

[Samael61]

Hello there,

If you enjoy my stories, you can read up to 15 chapters in advance per story on my Patreon page / patreon.com/Samael61.

To the attention of the readers who enjoy reading an intelligent main character like Miles will definitely like my original story, Arrival : Ruptures. Comments, likes and reviews are appreciated. Here are the links for : AO3, Spacebattles, Royal Road and Webnovel.

—
​

Metropolis

Beckett Residence

"I thought your mother was dead," Claire stated. Her inquisitive gaze was only tempered by her respect for privacy.

"This one is from an alternate reality. Her looks don't exactly match my mother's, but the little rat by her side does," he said. It was a poor excuse, and he had to work overtime to modify all the images he had put into circulation.

"I don't know about you two," Raven said, turning to the siblings, "but the rest of us do have family issues. I can't bring myself to meddle."

"Thank you."

"But," Claire jumped in, dragging the vowel out, "We definitely would like to hear more if you want to speak."

"There really isn't much to say. My father and mother were high school sweethearts. At least on my mother's part. My father always cared more about his success and career. She was blind to it, assuming he was just aloof and shy."

Baraka's face soured. He turned to the window where the woman had kept tapping on the glass. "I guess you got your brains from your father."

"Their marriage was cold. My father worked long hours and didn't have much time for us, while my mother tried to drown her depression in alcohol."

"When I was sixteen, he died in a car accident. A truck with busted brakes crushed him to a paste," he explained. His voice was even, unaffected by the tragedy.

The offers of "sorrys" and "my condolences" died on their lips.

"Two weeks after the funeral, my mother disappeared. She barely left me enough money to finish high school. It didn't take long for me to figure out it was with a young lover. He saw a depressed, drunken older woman loaded with more money than she could spend on drinks. She saw a man who paid her attention."

He did not see the need to mention the two were already lovers before his father's demise, a fact he had come to learn after her disappearance.

"They fell afoul of organized crime in the Caribbean. The rest is history."

"And how exactly is she back?" Zalika asked. She had seen mind-blowing acts and events while working for Miles, but the dead returning to life was not one.

"Because of Vandal Savage. He influenced human history for thousands of years. I have no doubt he would do so for thousands more," he explained for Raven's sake. Of all, she was the least in the know.

"Not for the better, though."

"As mundane methods could not kill him, I decided to throw him to the sun."

"That's… smart," Raven said. If only the same could be done to her father too.

"Yes. Unfortunately, some, shall we say, higher beings, are disgruntled with my decision."

Baraka whistled. "They sent her as punishment?"

How cool was it that his boss screwed over higher beings enough to warrant a punishment?

"It could have been worse. I at least respected my father to a degree."

"What are you going to do now?" Claire asked. Miles wasn't above killing, but this was family, even if horrible ones.

"I suppose a confrontation is inevitable."

—
​

He truly enjoyed the privileges provided by the capitalist system, even if it had to go eventually. A warehouse in the docks, owned by his company, discrete, out of the way, the prime choice to decide what to do with his mother and her boy toy.

His men had already brought them in.

"Wait here," he said, handing his hat to Claire while Baraka took the jacket off.

He had so many sensitive questions to ask. Questions that could not be asked in front of witnesses.

"Miles," his mother tried to get up. The man behind pushed her down.

"At ease, gentlemen; you may step out."

"Yes sir."

He took the seat in front of the two, waiting for the door to close. "The last few days have been quite interesting. I never thought I'd see you again."

She crossed her arms. "So you finally decided to stop ignoring me."

"Should I have been delighted?" He opened his arms to the side. "Hugged you like a good, dutiful son? Shed tears that you had returned?"

Her silence was all the answer he needed.

"I did not think so. Tell me, how exactly did you come by my house?"

"I don't know," she said, raising and dropping her left shoulder. "We were in Hong Kong, watching the news of Superman fighting someone. I blinked for a second, and we were all the way back in Metropolis."

"Who was he fighting?" he asked. That tidbit of information was exactly what he wanted to know.

"A monster, tall, dark, dangerous. Fired lasers out of his eyes."

Miles almost smiled. The Spectre had the guts to bring his mother to this dimension but not enough to let her keep her original memories. That is, provided she wasn't actually from a dimension where the Justice League existed.

Anything was possible at this stage.

"You two are dead here." He pushed an expertly crafted newspaper clipping towards her. "Gangsters liked how you flaunted father's wealth around. A gunman shot you both and took all your valuables."

Her lips parted and she snatched the old paper. A face similar yet different to hers, along with her husband's, was at the edge of the clipping. It was not about her death, but how she had abandoned her son and his subsequent refusal to pick up the body.

She wavered on her chair, eyes glassy.

"That explains why the credit cards weren't working," she muttered, pushing the clipping away.

He pocketed it. "Now, I have an acquaintance who knows you are my mother, or at least a version of her. With how sensitive my work is, I am going to ask you two to pretend you don't know me."

Her throat bobbed. "Fine. But there is a problem. We spent the cash on hand. We need money."

"I worked in a couple of odd jobs while going through high school. It was tiring, but I learned much about human interactions. Perhaps the most important one was when I worked in a small bakery."

"One of my coworkers, an eighteen-year-old recent graduate, Peter, had a fight with the boss over how he cut corners. You wouldn't believe half of the ingredients used in the US food industry," he said, shaking his head.

"The insults and profanities ended with Peter screaming out a last fuck you before stomping off."

"Seconds later, a gunman entered inside, demanding the cash in the register. Our aging cashier, Miss Wilkoff, was terrified. She did as instructed with the rest of the staff."

"Peter returned moments later. He apparently forgot his phone. He hovered outside the door, waiting. He could have intervened and saved the hard-earned profit of the bakery. Instead, he simply walked away. Can you guess what he said when overeager reporters asked why he did nothing?"

"Touching story. Get to the point," Lenny snapped at him.

Miles raised his index finger. "This is between us. Don't interrupt again." His voice was even, and the hollow smile on the young man's face disturbed him.

"What did he say?" she asked, waiting.

His smile reached his eyes now. "What I am about to say to you: it is not my problem."

"Okay. Can we go now?" She took her husband's hand, pushing the chair back.

The doors opened, and his guest of honor entered.

The purple-haired man glanced at the couple. "He is planning to sell what he knows about you if someone actually pays for it."

He laid his hands on their shoulders. "What do you want me to do with them?"

"Simple, erase every memory they have about me."

"Wait, he can do that?" His mother's boytoy tried to leap out of his chair. He fell back down, grasping his head.

His mother's eyes widened, but she too felt the effects of the mental intrusion.

"Mate, you have no idea what I can do."

—
​

Manchester's work took an hour. Leonard did not know much about him, but his mother had sixteen years worth of memories that had to be modified.

She believed herself to be a childless widow who was blowing all her late husband's money with her new lover.

Zalika handled the digital trail. A new identity was created for her, one that did not include any mention of the Beckett name. He had given up a couple of millions to complete the illusion.

A small price to pay.

They were abandoned in an alleyway. He had left subdermal trackers should it be necessary to find them once more.

Not that he wanted to see either for any reason.

He had a new life here. One he refused to let his mother be a part of. He had made his peace with her actions long ago. She did not concern him, and he had no desire to open any emotional wounds. The money he spent was a pittance, going against his previous words, something she would never remember.

All that he wished to say was said.

What happened to her now, he did not care about in the slightest.

—
​

He had wasted two days due to the Spectre's little interference. He had considered a small payback, but with the problem of his sole living family member solved, further tangling with the physical embodiment of God's vengeance would only draw attention.

There were more important matters to take care of.

Such as the crystal of the Ophidians.

He preferred the sun the way it was, yellow, shiny, and bringing life to the planet. His work was not easy this time. Not only was the location of the crystal not mentioned in the show, all he had to go off was a name.

Hassan.

A criminal with no details, no origin, and no information on what illicit business he dealt in. Which is where Uncle Sam came into play. The Global Criminal Justice Rewards program has not yet been created, but the Rewards for Justice Program existed.

Among the countless fugitives, criminals, dictators, and villains on the list, two Hassans existed.

One in the Middle East, one in Africa.

Another clue was "cave"; beware in Latin. Unfortunately, both locations of the two Hassans were within the borders of the lands conquered by Rome.

Hassan al-Fayrouz operated as an arms smuggler in Egypt, believed to be hiding somewhere outside Siwa Oasis, and known to be responsible for smuggling weapons to the Taliban. His exact location had never been pinned down by the Egyptian authorities, leaving the US to place a three million dollar reward on him.

Hassan Rashidi was the head of a network selling drugs to every organization interested in the business across the Middle East. Tens of millions of dollars worth of drugs were in circulation because of him. Information assisting his capture or death had a ceiling of six million dollars. His suspected location was the Sinjar Mountains in Iraq.

The rewards were not what he was after, but the location of the cave containing the crystal was. If Hassan in the show had run to such a remote location, he either had a backup plan or was desperate.

Desperate men did not escape for that long.

With the lack of digitalization in either region and plenty of insurgent groups in Iraq after the end of the major combat operations, he had his work cut out for him.

Both Hassans had pros and cons to being the target. US forces wouldn't conduct a unilateral raid on Egyptian soil, a US ally. Though, seeing how illogical some of the acts conducted by the armed forces were, it wasn't out of the boundaries of probability.

Unlike in Sinjar, Roman control over the Siwa Oasis was more prevalent, reaching over four centuries.

Serpentine imagery existed in both regions. Reaching a decision was rendered difficult.

As such, he chose the safer option. If Fayrouz were the target, he would not need to put himself in danger. Otherwise, he would have to go into an active combat zone.

More muscle would not hurt.

"Karen, how are you?" He could hear the clinking of the plates in the background. Calling her in rush hours would have been in bad taste had he not made arrangements.

"Good. Busy with work. How did it go?"

"As good as one can expect. I was about to visit Egypt for business. The help of a Kryptonian would be much appreciated."

"Unless you can get my boss to give me paid leave, I'll pass."

Miles chuckled.

"Wait a second," she said, muting the phone. He waited while reading the profit charts of his new restaurant.

"Huh," her voice returned, dry as the deserts of Egypt. "How interesting. He just gave me two weeks of paid leave because the new owner was grateful for how I saved his mother. Do you happen to know anything about this?"

He chuckled again.

"We are after a fugitive, possibly two. If you agree to help, the reward will be split three ways."

She hummed. "How much do I get?"

"Guaranteed one million dollars. Three if we have to chase the remaining target." He had no need of the reward. It would be left to Claire, Baraka, and, if she agreed to join, Karen.

"That's…"

"More than enough for you to go big," he finished her sentence.

"Heck, why not? Are we taking a plane?"

"I'll send you the location tomorrow. Pack light."

—
​

"Why are we bringing her with us?" Baraka asked, packing his bag.

"Connections, Baraka. It always helps to have friends like her."

"Isn't she already a friend?"

"More like an acquaintance that you come across every now and then," Claire said.

"In addition, she is from a technologically superior planet. What she knows can help Earth."

Starrware Industries in the comics shared the vision of EnviroCorps, creating innovative solutions to the planet's growing ecological and environmental issues. Cooperation would only further their goals.

"Are we taking Neumann and his men?" she asked, zipping her duffel bag.

"No. We are going to keep this small." Chasing two criminals gunblazing across Egypt and Iraq would draw too much attention. Three of them, with their adaptive nanotech armors, and a Kryptonian in the mix would be more than enough to hunt either of the criminals.

A chase should reveal possible hideouts. All he had to do was to discover the general location of the mountainous area. The cave holding the crystal would be far simpler after that.

He estimated that the entire operation would take less than a week. He had made arrangements for it. Men would be stationed around the house should there be more surprises of the family kind.

—
​

He left the house the following day. He would meet Karen in the same warehouse he had talked to his mother, his current base.

"You know dates are supposed to be between two people, right?" Karen asked as the men escorted her inside. She was wearing blue jeans, a white t-shirt, boots, a sunhat, and boots. With her backpack, she looked like a tourist.

His retort was instant. "Let's take it slow, my dear; this is just the second time we are meeting face-to-face."

"If you two are going to keep flirting, we can step out," Claire said, grinning from ear to ear. Baraka was trying to hide his smile to no effect.

"No need."

"Since we are not taking a plane, how are we going to Egypt?" she asked, scanning the mostly empty warehouse.

"Teleportation."

He snapped his fingers, and with a flash of light, they were gone.

—
​

In the next chapter:


Tourists drew attention.

Wealthy ones, even more so.

All the vendors wanted to sell something. Herbs, trinkets, souvenirs, and food were thrust in their faces. He purchased a little bit of everything, waiting. The chief of police would no doubt be interested in rubbing elbows with such generous guests.



Curious about the next chapter? Please consider supporting me on Patreon.

 

[vader634]

TFTC

 

[FTR2017]

Well, that's one way to deal with unwanted familial relations. I approve!

Now, on to the next quest to irritate said higher powers!

 

[Harbinger98]

Somehow, I doubt the next divine punishment, if any, will be as easy to deal with. I also find it funny that the divine beings aren't willing to bring Savage back, as they likely don't want to be responsible for his continued existence, but they are willing to punish the guy who permanently took care of him so he either doesn't commit anymore drastic changes or undoes what he originally did. Definitely something higher powers would do for roundabout results.

 

[MasterDarkElf]

Huh, that was more anticlimactic than I thought. I mean, I didn't expect this big thing to happen, but figured there might be a little more questioning and such. Oh well. And nice to see Karen getting closer to the gang, and especially Miles, haha. Looking forward to more.

 

[Lillie Jones]

thanks for the chapter