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((The following attacks on the Butcher have been approved by Epic Irony, so I am not god-modding.))

Every word that came from the Butcher’s mouth made the gun shake more and more at Aaron’s side. He couldn't even bring himself to speak. To say that he did have the balls to fight him; that he was eighteen and not afraid of a brawl; that he wasn't a blood-drunk, psychopathic killer who seemed like he had to say or do something violent every few minutes. But Aaron's lips were quivering in fear, like a small child being scolded. What the heck was he thinking, getting involved the way he did? Why didn’t he try to talk some sense into Robbie instead of commanding and threatening him to do something? He was asking to be killed! And now, not only was the Butcher pissed, but he had grown six foot seven and was looming right over Aaron. Terrifying was a massive understatement to describe the situation now. But Aaron wasn’t going to back down. If he let the Butcher know he could intimidate anyone into backing off…..he might kill another child. As the Butcher moved closer, Termite raised his gun at Robby’s stomach, and with his free hand managed to reach into his belt and slip out a few explosives that look like small metal marbles. He held them clutched in his hand, activating them. He would have to drop them soon. The explosions wouldn’t kill him, but they would do some serious damage to him. They weren’t meant for combat: they were meant for the environment. And the timing could not have been better.

The Butcher was a freak of nature and could easily cut down anyone in his path, but he had a major flaw: he had a tendency to overindulge. It doesn’t matter how many times you can regenerate yourself. Rushing into things and showing off was sloppy, plain and simple. And now that he was six foot seven and standing on a part of the floor that Aaron knew had the potential to trap him…..well…..good things happen to those who wait. And the mechanic knew now was the time to act, especially when the claws were swiping at his gun. Instinctively, Termite jumped back, dropping the small balls onto the ground at Butcher’s feet. And just in time too. The balls exploded a second later. They were small explosions, but they managed to cause the small part of the floor to cave in under the Butcher’s feet, causing him to fall about four feet into a hole. They would also cause some pretty nasty damage to his feet and shins, but they would grow back. And he would still be standing, but he would have to take a moment to climb out. This would give Aaron some time.

His mind was screaming at him to do something. He still had his pistol, so he could take some shots. It would be alright. Butcher would regenerate no problem. Aaron wouldn’t lose any sleep over it, and it may just keep him alive by doing so. Using the upper-hand he had now would buy him some time for Deadshot to arrive and save his butt. Or until Cynder or Red X decide to jump in and break it up. Blackfire definitely wouldn’t though. If Aaron could afford to take his eyes away from the Butcher, he would probably find her laughing and cheering the maniac on. Termite would just have to take care of himself for the moment. So he did just that. He backed away with his gun aimed at his opponent. He gave the Butcher a round in each shoulder, followed by three to the stomach. Each shot was on the lethal setting for more damage. And now for part two of the brilliant idea to start a fight with the Butcher: run like hell. Aaron rolled backward into the base panel of the computer monitor he had used earlier that day to leave the room. In under a minute he had made his way into the vents and halfway to his room on the far side of the mansion.

How the hell did things get so messed up all in one day? For months Aaron had managed to make through each day in the Brotherhood without conflict with any of the other members. But in less than one day he had managed to piss someone off so bad that he had been marked for death. He scurried through the vents, scared out of his mind. Aaron had always believed the Justice League, the Teen Titans, somebody would pull him out of the Brotherhood if his life was in danger. Even though there was no communication between him and any of the heroes, and the fact that he had never told them his plan face-to-face, he had managed to live without any doubt for his safety. But now the saboteur was beginning to realize just how dangerous and stupid his plan for redemption truly was. Alone and surrounded by people a dozen times more powerful than him. And with the possibility that his back-up didn’t even know they were back-up? What the hell had he been thinking?

No. The League must have known he was doing. After the events of Watchtower II and his sudden departure, they must have been able to put two and two together. They must have considered how loyal and determined Aaron was to joining the League as an official member, even as just a worker. They must have known he would try to redeem himself for the Watchtower II incident. And the way to redeem himself, in Aaron’s mind, was to sabotage the bad guys. As far as Aaron knew, Deathstroke had not yet officially made his return to Jump City public knowledge, but surely the heroes would know that there were teams of villains out there. And after the battle earlier, the Titans must now have more than an idea that there is an organized group of villains active in Jump City. So even if the League didn’t know before which team Aaron had gone to, they would know now. So the mission wasn’t over yet. Termite could survive this day and every other day until either he, the League or the Titans stormed the base or whatever they had planned. If they even had anything planned at all. They would soon. Now that the Titans from earlier had been ‘informed’ of the gas, the heroes could prepare. Or at least some could get free of the gas. Then contact with him could be established, a plan could be made and the day could be saved! It would just take some time. Aaron would also have to stay alive until then. All he had to do now was to wait for Deathstroke to return and put the Butcher back on his leash. But then…..

Butcher’s voice sounded in Termite’s head. It was the earpiece, and now the psychopath was threatening Cynder. The mech suit could keep her safe, but Aaron wasn’t a coward and this was his mess after all. Sure he had fled, but for some reason he had expected Robby to follow him. Well, the saboteur was wrong and now he had to stop another murder, just in case the killer could find a way past the mech suit. Termite slipped out of the vent and into his room. ”I’m in my room, a*****e,” he taunted through the earpiece. ”Come and get me. I’m gonna go Home Alone on your a**.”

((to Termite’s room))

The confidence Aaron once had was not running dangerously low when he heard more tapping outside the door. He was unsure if it was the same tapping as before, because now it seemed to be from one place. It was the Butcher, obviously taunting him. Before the mechanic knew it the wall was obliterated with pieces of wood flying across the room. Through the dust he could see a large, inhuman figure lugging something over its shoulder. He couldn’t see Robby’s new look, but he could see his room get completely trashed and his traps foiled. He stayed where he was, hoping that Robby would get closer to the fire-extinguisher, but it didn’t look like it was going to happen. I should go now, he thought as he hugged the end of the air vent. I can slip out and he won’t hear me over all my crap he’s breaking.

Then the most terrifying thing that could happen at the moment did: Butcher stopped. He stood still, thinking about something. And you know it’s something awful if it requires the Butcher to stop and think. But what Aaron was more frightened of was Robby’s look. The praying mantis arms, his abnormally stretched body and the organs he had slung over his shoulder made the saboteur throw up a little in his mask. He sat deep in the air vent, now putting his detonator back in his belt in case he needed to make a quick escape. And a quick escape sounded like a good idea right now, especially now that his fear had been confirmed by Robby eyeing the crate to the air vent. It was time to go. Aaron couldn’t do anything fancy like throw smoke pellets to cover himself. It would fill the vent and he probably couldn’t out-climb that. Fleeing was the best—if not only option he had right now. The mechanic slowly put his feet underneath himself as quietly as he could and prepared to jump. That was when the worst had happened.

As Aaron began to rise, Butcher sped to the wall and stabbed his arms into the wall. Termite began to climb, but the wall being torn out shook the vent, causing him to fall back into his spot, staring at the Devil himself. The wannabe hero screamed as Robby hoisted himself into the vent and began swiping at him with what at first were stubs, but quickly became those claws of his. Aaron brought his knees to his chest to keep clear of the attacks and decided now was definitely the time to go. He would have to come back for his clothes later. Right now he had to lure this guy away from him.

Termite jumped up and shimmied up the vertical vent as fast as he could. It was as far as the vent went vertically since his room was on one of the higher levels of the mansion. There were two ways he could go now: left and right. The vent on the left went straight for a while before dropping diagonally. He would have to crawl for a while, but he would eventually find a shaft that went straight down to the basement. It was a quick path downward through the mansion and it was the path he favored to get to a number of places in the mansion from his room. If he could get to the meeting room without being gutted, perhaps one of the villains could break this fight up. Hell, maybe Slade was there. If anyone could stop a dispute it was him. But then again…..Aaron wasn’t a coward. He may not be the most skilled in the Brotherhood, but he wasn’t one to hide behind others. So he took the vent to his right.

Unlike the vent on his left, the one on the right went straight with turns at the end. But Aaron wasn’t going to make any turns. As soon as he pulled himself up into this vent he pulled out a flashbang and dropped it where it would get Robby as soon as he climbed up. Termite then went to the end of the vent, kicked open the crate and climbed out and over. Moving on the outside of the vent Aaron hurried to the opposite end, dropping an explosive disk on the spot he remembered where the vent went down to his room. He got to a safe distance and detonated it. The explosion caused the half of the vent Robby was in to break off and tilt. Now the Butcher was trapped in the vent that was doing a nosedive down a rather large space in the wall. It would crash, but the angle would make Robby would slide out and fall down the opening, later landing somewhere behind one of the walls deep in the room of the meeting room.

With the Butcher taken care of Aaron entered the other half of the vent and traveled to the meeting room, laughing as he did so. That fight went remarkably well for him! Upon arrival he kicked open the vent and jumped out. He walked to the center of the room where he stood there, seemingly meditating. He looked drunk, standing there in his boxer briefs and a tank-top with his eyes closed and his hands slowly waving in the air as if he were conducting a symphony. He was mentally going over the blueprints of the mansion he had drilled into his head and after a moment he had pin-pointed the exact location the Butcher would be in. Aaron went to the far end of the room, moved some monitors and other equipment out of the way and planted an explosive that blew a noticeably large hole in the wall, revealing Robby. Termite stood there with his arms folded across his chest. ”Congratulations. Now we both look ridiculous,” he said in a snarky tone. ”Are we done now?”

Location: Base of Operation
Thoughts: This went surprisingly well. I look rediculous, but I think I won.


((The fight is not over yet. I'm waiting for Epic to post))

Aaron spat a glob of blood and spit at the psychopath who was hovering over him, just to show he didn’t give two shits about what the freak thought. It wasn’t to uphold the Termite persona, but rather because he just didn’t have any respect for the guy. Aaron was naturally empathetic to just about anyone, but Robby was the exception. The young Dillingham was generally a peaceful guy, but he believed people who murdered children in cold blood deserved no mercy, so he couldn’t give a damn about Robby’s feelings. But Aaron’s attempt to show this failed because he still had his mask on. The glob of blood didn’t go anywhere. He laid his head back on the cold tiled floor and sighed. Maybe if he laid there long enough the hostile villain would just leave him alone. But that didn’t seem to be working because now the guy was standing over him as if he wanted something. Aaron would give him something. ”If I,” he began, only to stop when it came out as an incoherent mumble due to the blood sticking his mask to his mouth. He rolled his mask up to his nose and spat out a huge glob of blood at the Butcher, following up with a bloody smirk. ”For the record, I didn’t exactly let the guy leave. You’re the one who decided to chase me around instead, genius.” he challenged. He climbed to his feet, not even caring if Robby were to try to push him back down. He looked the devil in the eye, blood pouring out of his smashed nose and staining his white tank top. He began to chuckle at that, but winced in pain at his sore ribs. He spat out more blood, but to the side this time and turned back to his enemy. ”And if I’m so pathetic, what the ******** took you so long to kick my a**?” He chuckled again, only to wince yet again. But this was worth it. Aaron discovered he was surprisingly good at comebacks. But then again, Robby did sort of set himself up for it. ”And at least I can do more than just one thing. All you do is kill people. b***h, I can do a dozen things. That’s why Slade keeps me around.” He gently rubbed his ribs, grateful that nothing was broken. His nose probably was though, but he figured he could just put a pencil in his nostril and snap his nose back into place like in a movie he saw. ”I’m not even going to say anything about that little girl. What good would that do? You wouldn’t care, you freak,” he said with more venom in his voice.