#Doc seeing his son's dead body and having to rebuild him?

[lightningmcqueeniloveyou]

Sometimes my day is going fine then I think about the theory for Mater's tall tales series where everything Mater said was real and Lightning didnt remember it because in the first tale, where Mater did the stunt thing by the cliff, Lightning did fall down the cliff and kinda died and Doc had to rebuild him completely so now he has holes in his memories.

[spartanbunjase]

Yesterday was Evil Author Day but I wasn’t in any state to participate. So, have some of my WIP today!! They are all Jason Todd centric and I can tell you now that only one of these is guaranteed to be completed as it’s a christmas gift for my little sister (Belfire on A03). 

Cantains: domestic violence, soulmates, bad parenting, different pairings, angst, fluff, good parenting, drug addiciton and recovery, LGBT+ couples, straight couples, trans characters, torture, good siblings, happy, character death (only mentioned).

1: As Catherine lay on the floor in a small pool of her own blood she could only feel utterly helpless watching Willis’ belt land on her son again and again. She wanted to get to him, to curl protectively around Jason and keep him safe, but she was too injured and knew she could end up dead if she intervened. Being dead would just put Jason at Willis’ mercy more often. The man wasn’t the same as the one she’d fallen in love with during her time at Gotham Academy. He’d been funny, carefree, adventurous, and handsome. Now, consumed by alcohol and drugs, he was a monster. He ran with criminals and regularly used Catherine to pay off his debts. Their current argument had resulted from her coming home and finding Willis about to use Jason’s body as payment. It was something he’d never done before, she knew from the utter terror radiating off her son as she’d stepped into the room. It was something she refused to let Willis ever put her son through. To Catherine, he’d thrown away any claim to their sweet six year old boy the second he laid a hand on him when the boy was four. Eventually Willis grew tired and stormed out the flat, probably to apologise to the dealer and convince them to return once Catherine was out of the flat. She wasn’t going to give him that chance. She was done letting him hurt her or her son. Jason was her world, he was the reason she’d cleaned up her drug habit and gotten a job as a bus boy at their local diner. Dragging herself up so she was standing, Catherine carefully made her way over to her son. He was bleeding from the welts and wounds across his back while she could already see a black eye forming. Catherine bent down slowly and gave Jason’s shoulder a gentle shake. He gave a pained whimper but didn’t move until he could clearly see it was Catherine and not Willis. “Come on baby, we’re getting out of here.” Catherine’s heart broke further as she saw the resigned look on her son. She’d promised him they’d leave so often but they’d gone back, he was clearly unwilling to believe her any more now than all the times before. She helped him onto his feet and led him to the door. It was only once they were out on the street that he spoke, “where we going Mama?” Catherine hadn’t thought that far ahead but as she watched Sparky their dog helping support some of Jason’s weight it hit her like a bolt of lightning. “We’re going to your grandparents. They’ve never actually gotten to meet you and they can keep us safe.” She saw Jason’s hand hold tighter to Sparky’s fur as he kept his gaze on the pavement. “Don’t worry baby, they’ll take Sparky in too.” The odd trio eventually arrived at Doc Thompkins clinic. Catherine knew she couldn’t walk Jason all the way across the city to the affluent neighbourhoods and Leslie had been trying to convince her to leave Willis for years. She had no doubt that the woman would help her and her family escape him. Catherine pushed open the door and ushered her son and their dog through to the waiting room. A nurse looked like she was about to refuse the dog until she caught sight of Jason and Catherine. The kind woman immediately moved the trio to a clinic room and went to get Leslie. “Jason, Catherine, what can I do for you today?” The Todd family had known Leslie since his birth. Her free clinic had helped them through when they’d been unable to treat Jason during a multitude of childhood injuries and illnesses. More recent years had led to the clinic treating the results of Willis’ temper and Leslie trying to help the woman and young boy escape. Catherine let her eyes travel over the room, constantly vigilant and fearful of Willis finding them. Finally sure they were safe she let her gaze lock onto Leslie’s. She’d never met the woman’s eye before, always too afraid of what she’d see reflected back at her. “We need help. My parents live in Bristol and I’m hoping they’ll take us in. They never liked Willis so hopefully they’ll let me back home now they see I’m done with him for good. At the very least, I hope they take Jay.” She was met with a calm patience that was pure Leslie once the woman got what she wanted from a situation; and in this case she had. “Auntie L, Mama said I’m going to meet my abuelos but I’m scared.” He had moved slightly closer to Leslie as Catherine had spoken and gave her sleeve a gentle tug. “They won’t be like Willis will they?” His voice was so quiet that Leslie knew Catherine would have missed the question due to the distance between her and her son. She felt a sudden urge to wrap the small, undernourished boy up in her arms and never let harm come to him again.

**** 

2: There isn’t much Jason can remember from his time as Robin. He can remember being friends with a handful of the younger heroes; most of them have since kept their distance. Returning from thirteen months of torture (and being declared dead) with different morals than your mentor and arguing with them in the Halls of Justice will strain some friendships…even if it has been over a decade since he was found in the abandoned wing of Arkham by the kid who’d replaced him. A few however had stuck around, stayed by his side, and aided his journey through the turbulent recovery of PTSD. Billy Batson had been overjoyed to have his friend back, to have back the one person who understood the Gotham foster care system and how fucking backwards it all is. He’d been one of the first people to visit the manor on hearing of Jason’s rescue; cheating his way past Bruce and Alfred with his magic just to see his friend. He’d remained; understanding the argument for what it was, a damaged boy begging his father to save him from his nightmares. During those early months Jason hadn’t remembered him, but Billy never held it against him. He used it as a chance to rebuild, to start fresh. They’d both changed in those months and he understood what violence could do to even the best of people; and to Billy, Jason had always been one of the best. His brother, Dick, fell into that selection of memories for Jason where he knew they’d had good times together but only the feelings remained. Only the lingering scent of happiness, childish wonder, and excitement remained. The memories themselves had been burned, beaten, starved, and just generally tortured away. The man was seen as the perfect older brother by the other members of the caped community (and even by Gotham’s press). For Jason, in the past decade, he’d been anything but. He’d only ever tried to push the family’s moral standpoint onto a person who quickly (and easily) reverted into that same terrified, scarred boy they found under the asylum just from mentions of his captor. Dick focused on keeping the other new siblings safe and happy. If that meant ignoring the second oldest of the Wayne children; well then, all the better as far as he was concerned. The oldest of the Wayne children understood, and had even studied, PTSD. That meant shit all when it came to applying it in practice. When it came to applying all he’d learnt for his roles as Robin and Nightwing he fell short of the legacy he created. Within a year of Jason’s release from Joker, Dick had certainly lived up to his name. The relationship between the two was frostier than any suit Victor Fries required. For the teenager the family got back, got into the safety of his old room, it was as it had been when he’d first been given Robin. As he didn’t have the visual memories to go with the positive feelings he’d attached to his older brother during those first couple of week it became increasingly easy for Dick to trigger a panic attack, or as was more common between the two, an all-out violent attack. Jason’s dreams, even during his time under the old asylum, occasionally give him flashes of green light, of shapes seemingly made out of thin air glowing in neon green. He’s been told that Kyle Rayner used to be a friend. Two young heroes finding themselves in roles with previous occupants helping them to forge a friendship. He’d kept his distance when he’d heard his friend was back. He’d pushed him further away once he saw the lack of recognition in those bright blue eyes. In the end he went so far as to cut contact with the teen completely once he saw the drastic changes during the nearly explosive argument with Batman. For where one had risen up to become an Honour Guard within the Corps, the other had fallen to a murdering anti-hero. One person however, had never slipped his memories. One person had always managed to keep an steel grip on his limbic system. While the Joker had tried desperately, along with help from the other Arkham inmates, to wipe every ounce of hope from Jason he failed to realise one thing. He failed to realise just how far, just how deeply, hope ran for the second Robin. The one person who the clown never managed to taint or use against him, was the one person that only a few of the hero community knew he knew. When the lights in his cell would go out, Jason would dream of flowing blonde hair. When Harley would try to convince him that she and the clown were all he had left, Jason would let his heart fill with a snorting laugh never letting the sound past his lips. When each of Batman’s main enemies took turns on the six month anniversary, Jason drew from the strength sun-warmed hands that used to clasp his with while running through the fareground. When Joker finally showed Jason the photos to prove he’d been replaced, the teen filled his mind with blues and reds of the one person who’d never replace him. Who, as it turns out, was the only person who didn’t replace him. With everything the Joker did, with everything the Joker had left him to deal with upon his release, it was Kara Zor-El who gave everything and reminded him that his faith in her was justified. For months the Wayne family had struggled. They’d struggled to fit their second child back into the family. There was the unconscious violence that accompanied trying to wake him from his night terrors. Often resulting in wounds ranging from a simple punch to a stab. The deep-seated fear and hatred of most of Gotham’s Rogues made them tiptoe around him when talking about the family business. They refused to ask, to understand, just why he resented the middle son of the Wayne house but could tolerate Duke, Cassandra, and Damian. In the end, the only solution to be found actually found them. Kara had heard Jason’s night terror start one evening not long after returning from a space mission with the Titans and hearing the news of the second Robin being found. Relief had flooded through her to her very soul. For ten months she’d searched, scanned all of Gotham multiple times with her x-ray vision and listening for any sign of him. Unfortunately there was just too much lead in the city. Too much interference for her to find him before being summoned for a three month off-world mission. She’d never forgotten the sound of his heartbeat though; of the changes it would make when he was happy, nervous, or just itching for a good fight. That first night back on Earth; when she heard the sudden changes, the increase in pace, she tuned into the almost silent whimpers he was letting out. Kara flew the fastest she ever had, abandoning the mission de-brief she’d been ordered to, and tore through the Manor like a Bat out of Hell (or an Alien invading). The alarms had been blaring. Batman and the kids were pulled away from patrol, all racing home with worry clogging their chests for the elderly butler and damaged boy left alone. Each of them had expected great hordes of people intent on harming the two members of the Wayne family who were seen as the weakest. Instead they returned home to a grandfather silencing them all and making them watch the scene he had been taking in peacefully prior to their outlandish entrance. Kara had made it up to Jason’s room just as he’d started to scream and thrash about. His limbs were still in casts, much of his body still in bandages or dressings of some form as he’d only been free a handful of days. The shock of black hair and familiar heartbeat moved her faster still. Within the blink of an eye one scared but joyous teen had pulled the other distressed teen into her arms. Almost as soon as her overly warm hands came into contact with his sweat-damp skin, Jason’s eyes flew open. He cut off a scream as blazing ocean blue eyes met overjoyed sky blue. Sun golden blonde hair framing the face like a halo. The hope. The strength. The only love that he’d managed to hold onto for thirteen months was finally back in his reach and so he allowed his body to sink into the warm embrace. It was the first night that the family discovered just how close the two sixteen year olds really were. Dick had long suspected that they were friends. Bruce had always avoided commenting, refusing to admit that both of his children were close with Kryptonians (even if one was a clone). As they stood watching they saw how quickly Kara calmed their wayward bird. Her fingers never stopped carding through his hair as her other hand was clasped as tightly as he could manage due to the bulky cast and pain. She was rocking him slightly, quietly singing a Kryptonian nursery rhyme.

**** 

3: Everyone was born with a mark, a mark that matched in design and placement with the person you were meant to have a deep relationship with. Be that platonic or romantic. Everyone that is except Jason. His mother had always told him it just made him special, that he would form deep relationships with anyone special enough to be in his life. Instead he spent his life forging relationships only to have them ripped away. There was his mother losing her battle with cancer. His best friend getting caught up in one of Mad Hatter’s schemes and never making it out. Then there was the father he’d found one cold night in Crime Alley. Jason thought he’d finally found what his mother meant all those years ago. He now had a grandfather, who he spent countless hours cooking and debating literature with. He had a father who taught him how to fight beyond that of street fighting but also helped him laugh again. Best of all he now had a brother who would take him skiing and help him prank their adopted father. Alas it wasn’t to last. Each of those relationships was destroyed by the one who wished his soul mark matched Jason’s father. The Joker took Jason away from Bruce, from the family he’d found. A crowbar here. An explosion there. It all came crumbling down in the Magdala Valley. One quick resurrection, a few years training, and one failed attempt at revenge later found Jason finally managing to rebuild those bonds lost to him at fifteen. It was what led to him chasing a behemoth of a man through Gotham trying to save Deula Dent. She was the daughter of the Joker from another Earth and, although she was related to a version of the man who’d killed him, he wasn’t about to let her die. Unfortunately, he wasn’t successful but it did lead to a very interesting set of circumstances for the twenty-two year old. With Donna Troy, a woman he’d once considered a sister, and Kyle Rayner at his side he found himself travelling through the multi-verse. They’d been to countless versions of their own planet. They’d met evil versions of themselves and their mentors. They’d gotten caught in Victorian Gotham. They’d even ended up on multiple Earths where they were the opposite gender to how they presented. It had been a tiring journey. Jason had found himself having a small crush on the Green Lantern accompanying them. Flirty banter was met with fierce resistance. Kyle, for reasons Jason still didn’t understand, seemed convinced that he wanted Donna instead. Now Jason wasn’t picky. He was attracted to a person regardless of their gender, or even if they were human. To Kyle it just meant that Jason was even better placed to scoop Donna out from under him. As the trio, along with their Monitor Bob, landed on Earth-11 it became apparent that they’d ended up on another Earth where the genders were reversed. A fight was clearly happening and so they set off to help in the hopes that Ray Palmer may have been somewhere nearby. Jason’s combat boots pounded through the streets. His breath was coming harsher than usual as an unexpected pain was shooting up his left arm. It had started as soon as they’d breached the atmosphere. The only way he could describe it was as if someone was stabbing him between the radius and ulna over and over again. His arm was held protectively to his chest as nothing he’d done had relieved the pain. He’d twisted his wrist and shoulder around. Simple stretches had turned more and more complex. Nothing was working. A green construct lit up the sky, quickly being followed by the Lantern creating it. Jason’s gaze lingered on the woman in question and the pain subsided slightly. Kicking his body into action his legs pulled him towards the battle faster. “If you’re going to act like children then you’ll be treated as such.” The female Green Lantern said while scooping up some of the Amazon warriors. Jason will deny it to his dying day but that was the moment he felt his heart skip a beat and love start to bloom in his heart.

**** 

4: When the news of the massacre at Sanctuary broke throughout the hero community Jason felt horrifically guilty because he felt such relief. A few weeks before it all happened Roy had been speaking with Waylon about entering rehab. He’d been intending to go to Sanctuary as it was set up by the Trinity for all those in the community that needed help. However, the archer didn’t want to be in the middle of nowhere or too far away from Jason. The ginger archer had raced into Gotham two months prior to save the stupidly impulsive ass of a crime lord. As soon as he and Jason were back together they had a massive talk about how their relationship parted last time. It soon became clear that Jason’s own insecurities had wiggled their way so far into his brain that he pushed Roy away. Once they’d finished their talk they quickly fell into their old routine. The relationship was moving as if they’d never been apart for over a year. They were able to support each other but Jason was able to see that Roy needed more help than he could provide. As the case with Suzie Sue was drawing to a close they started to talk about Roy’s options. Sanctuary had been top of the list, until Roy realised just where it was located and more importantly how little was located around it. In the end, with the help of Oliver, they were able to get Roy into AtoT Centre in San Diego. When Oliver heard that Roy was struggling again he managed to step up and help. He knew that the level of help Roy would need was clearly above what he could provide if Jason was struggling to help him. With this in mind Oliver offered to foot the bill for any length of stay Roy needed, along with helping Jason rent a flat nearby. The AToT Centre were able to fit Roy into one of their San Diego drug rehab homes that house six patients. He agreed to a ninety day stay so long as Oliver refused to tell him the price. Jason agreed with Roy’s instance as he knew that if Roy found out that it was $65,000 for the initial thirty days and then $2,000 for every thirty after that he would have refused to go to such a highly rated place. They allowed Roy to keep his phone so he could be in contact with both Jason and Oliver, which settled all three men. Roy had been at the centre for fifteen days when the news of Sanctuary broke. He had received a text from Wally telling him that he was okay and had made it out. Unsure of what the text had meant he’d immediately phoned his ex-mentor and (trying again) father figure. The blonde archer had gently told his son how the patients at Sanctuary had been attacked and that the current suspects were Booster Gold and Harley Quinn. He also reassured Roy that Wally had managed to get away fast enough, running straight to his Aunt Iris in Central City. 

**** 

5: There were a few things people could expect to find on the streets of Gotham. Bristol had people who spewed money and corruption all in the same breath. If you wanted to get your rocks off, or buy some, you’d head to the East End. Joker goons could be found roaming around Amusement Mile while a couple of the buildings around the Solomon Wayne courthouse were decorated in two halves both on the inside and the outside. One of the things that you wouldn’t expect to come across is a literal goldmine. Jason learnt all of this while he still had a home near Crime Alley. It’s something that has been drilled into him even more during his six years on the streets. So, it comes as a massive surprise to the fifteen-year-old when he finds The Batmobile parked in the alley. He had three tyres off when two shadows fell over him. Glancing up a jolt of freezing cold fear shot through the underweight teen. He’d slipped into a fighting stance naturally, his tyre iron held tightly in a white knuckled grip. When you grow up in the Narrows you have no choice but to always choose fight over flight. He’s shocked out of his fear by a deep throaty laugh. “The fuck?” Slips out before Jason can clamp his mouth shut. Of all the reactions to someone booting your tyres he’d never heard of someone laughing. “You’re a spunky one aren’t you.” Robin, now Jason’s had a chance to take in the recognisable costume, said with the same level of amusement in his tone as Batman’s laugh. He glanced over at his mentor and Jason took in the silent conversation they had. The Bat crouched in front of the small, dirty street kid. “You want hot food and a warm bed? If so, we know someone who owes us one.” Throwing up an eyebrow, Jason takes a step back. His stomach is desperately empty. His mind is fuzzy. His adrenaline from the theft is waning and he knows he can’t hold the tyre iron up much longer. “Ya wouldn’ wanna help some’n’ like me. I ain’t normal.” His thick accent makes them pause. If you weren’t raised in the area, then there is always a slight difficulty in translation. It’s made a bit more difficult for people to understand Jason as his Narrows accent is also intermingled with a Latinx twist from his Mámá. It was something he’d heard his whole life. Don’t mind Jason, he’s not all there. Don’t worry about the kid, he ain’t normal. Fucker, all I do for you and you can’t act like all the other boys. Jason knew, after hanging around with the same group of lads since he could walk, that most young boys dreamed of being Robin. They talked animatedly about how cool it must be to wear the red, yellow, and green while kicking the shit out of people. They all lusted after Batman and Robin’s sometimes partner Batgirl. None of the other teenage boys Jason grew up with wanted to be Batgirl. None of them dreamed about how empowering it must feel to pull on those four-inch, purple boots and not have them holding you back from doing the same things as Batman and Robin. “Well we’re not normal either.” Robin chuckles. “No normal people dress up like we do and fight crime.” Jason had to admit that the sidekick has a point. In the end his overwhelming need for sustenance crowds out any other nervousness he could be feeling, so he reluctantly agreed. Jason helped them put the wheels back on as best he could with his hands shaking. He could blame the cold. He could blame the hunger. He could blame the two heroes of Gotham helping him more than he was helping them. In actuality, the reason his hands were shaking was the knot of Narrows fuelled anxiety over the chance of them finding out just how abnormal he was. It takes Jason a week to figure out that Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are Batman and Robin. He spends a few days coming up with a plan to get them both to admit it. Both men are underestimating how sneaky and clever the street kid can be so don’t see everything coming together until it’s at its conclusion. They both try to play it off. Try to pretend that Jason hasn’t guessed it all correctly. Try to pretend that Jason hadn’t caught them in the lie. In the end they tell him everything because Alfred cuffs them both upside the head. The trust both men show Jason in opening up about their pain. The very events that triggered their need for the mission, cements something in him. It solidifies the tentative strands of trust that was between them. The fact Dick was so willing to come to him when he woke up a few nights later with nightmares of falling so he had someone to sit and watch crappy 80’s movies with. The fact Bruce tells him exactly why the Batmobile was parked in Crime Alley that night, the significance of the date. It all goes towards helping Jason realise that maybe these three people are the very people he needs to talk to, to trust in. Even with all that swirling around his mind. Even with all the little ways they’re showing him they want to be his family. The fear engrained in him from years of his father and the other men around the Narrows keeps his mouth shut. He fights through each day, just as he always has; only now the fight is different. Whereas before his fight was for the basics needed to survive. The hunger. The cold. The general desperate need to make it to the next day. Now his fight is different. He has food. Warmth. Safety. He has people who check in on how he’s doing, how he’s feeling or settling in. He has people who care. Now the fight is to keep how he feels about his own body, mind, and soul from spilling over and corrupting one of the first good things this city ever gave him. The dark of night, when Jason knows for sure both Dick and Bruce are out and Alfred is in the cave, is the only time he lets his mind wander into the Fort Knox style vault he keeps his dreams of being more like Batgirl and less like Robin. It’s the only time he lets out the complicated rubber band ball of thoughts and anxieties to try and sift through them all. It’s the only time he willingly thinks about the two people who had started trying to help him untangle all he was feeling.

**** 

6: 

.It had been ten years since Jason returned to Gotham, ten years since Ra’s had dunked his lifeless body into the Lazarus pit to bring Jason screaming and clawing back into existence. In that time things had changed greatly, but not Gotham, Gotham remained the seething hub for all criminality in the country. Jason had long ago given up on ever thinking that Gotham could change, it just seemed to attract the worst of humanity or ever worse, spawn it. Still Jason vowed to continue fighting just on the off chance that Gotham might one day see the light.Jason flicked the butt of his cigarette into the fading light, a singular point of dulling light against the encroaching black of Gotham’s night. The almost permanent blare of police sirens echoed through the streets and up into the skies, only serving to remind Jason just how far they hadn’t come since he pulled on his first pair of green pixie boots. He clambered to his feet, resting his arm on the head of his favourite gargoyle and looked out over the city, wondering where the night would take him. Suddenly his com sparked into life. “Batgirl are you receiving?” Batman was a staple of Gotham now, one of its defining characteristics, even if his mission had failed on every aspect.Still Jason found it difficult to hear Batman speak, knowing that Bruce no longer held the mantle. Batman had fallen to Damian a few years back once Damian had aged into the role, filling the shoes of his father had left empty when he died. There had been a time before Bruce’s death that he and Jason stood apart from each other, separated by their moral compasses, but ultimately in Bruce’s final moments he had made up for all the bad blood between the two of them. Captured once again by the Joker, Jason had found himself in a similar situation to his first death, only this time the Batman arrived early.Bruce had beaten the joker to the ground whilst the bomb counted down, seconds remained when Bruce attached the grapnel line from the Batwing to Jason’s harness point and sent the Batwing soaring off into the sky. Fire and death consumed Bruce and the Joker, the more powerful nature of the bomb vaporising any trace of the hero and villain. When Jason came to in the Batcave he remembered Bruce attaching the cable to his waist and the words he spoke to him. “I’m sorry Jason but I won’t let him take you again. I know we’ve had our troubles, mostly because of my stubbornness, but know this now. I love you.” The family had accepted him back with open arms but Jason struggled to come to terms with his father’s death for quite some time.“I’m receiving Batspawn, I’ll be operational in twenty, see you at RV foxtrot.” Stephanie Brown may not be the first or the strongest Batgirl, but in Jason’s opinion she was the best. They had both come from similar backgrounds and had bonded over their shared life experience, add in to the mix that Jason aged differently that other humans thanks to his dip in the pit and they were roughly the same physical age now so they had unofficially made themselves siblings. Steph’s voice sounded different to Jason, he wasn’t hearing it over his com unit. He craned his neck round and sure enough there she was, stood silently behind him.“Why’d you always have to sneak up on me like that?” Jason mumbled grumpily. “Holy shit someone’s in a bad mood!” Jason had caught her off guard, their relationship a lot more playful that this current interaction. “Ahh fuck, it’s the eighteenth ain’t it?” Steph asked to which Jason simply nodded his head. Bruce’s anniversary always sucked for Jason but for some reason this year, their seventh without Bruce, was hitting Jason harder than before. Steph sidled up behind Jason and wrapped her arms around his chest, he rested his spare arm on top of hers, enjoying the warmth coming from her. “You wanna talk about it?” Steph asked gently as she released her arms and climbed around the other side of the gargoyle.Jason pulled out another cigarette and lit it in rapid succession. “Naa. Don’t even know what to say really.” As Jason exhaled a stream of smoke shot into the night air, the sky now more black than it was red. “Well why don’t you come with us on patrol tonight, we think we’ve got a lead on Pyg.” Jason simply pointed to a rooftop that was several stories lower than their current position, on top of it was the partially strung up body of a failed dollatron and next to it in a pool of his own blood and brain matter was Pyg. “Jason, did you?” Steph looked over at Jason and saw him waving around a sniper rifle that she hadn’t noticed before. “Okay then, well that throws my night wide open. Wanna go get something to eat, ya know, after getting changed?”Jason took a long drag on his cigarette, considering Steph’s idea. “Yeah alright, let’s just wait until Gordon’s boys turn up to collect the bodies.” Jason said flatly. “Cool, I’ll let Bats know we’re offline tonight.” Steph activated her com. “Batgirl to Batman, you receiving?” There was a moments silence before the channel sparked to life again. “Receiving.” Damian replied tersely. “No need to go ahead with the sting tonight, I’ve got eyes on Pyg and I don’t think he’d going to be hurting anyone else ever again.” Steph tried not to giggle but she knew how much Damian hated vague reports.“Goddamn it Batgirl, was this Red Hood again? He’s there with you now isn’t he? Hood what have you done; you know that isn’t how we do things. How many times did father have to tell you!” Jason pulled his helmet fully off and hit the power switch. “Fuck he sounds worse than Bruce did sometimes.” Jason quipped before taking a long drag on his cigarette then flicking it once more into the night. “Hey at least you don’t have to work directly with him, I’m stuck with the little brat!” Steph laughed but Jason knew she was serious. After Bruce’s death Damian had become even more zealot in his quest to become his father and claim his blood right, the cowl.“I’ve told you before, you’d be more than welcome on the Outlaws. Personally, I think Artemis would like it more than I would, she’s crushing on you hard dude.” Steph smiled and laughed, it was good to hear a more upbeat and jovial tone to her brother’s voice. “As tempting as working with my brother and finally getting myself a girlfriend is, I belong in Gotham. Besides, someone’s got to keep Damian in check since Alfred quit; although I don’t blame him.” Steph sighed then snapped into another chain of thought. “Oh Alfred sent me a message the other day, asked me to ask you about Dick?” Jason looked curiously at Steph, throw off by the bizarre question.“Why doesn’t he ask Dick himself, his number hasn’t changed?” Jason asked but Steph gave him that look that only younger sisters can give their older siblings. “You know you’re the only one from the family that he speaks to anymore. He even stopped sending birthday cards to Alfred last year. We’re all worried about him, this self-isolating behaviour can’t be good for him.” Steph now looked worried and Jason supposed he could understand why. Bruce’s death had hit Dick hard too and he’d left America all-together not long after the funeral. He now lived in Europe with Wally and their six adopted kids. He was happy but done with the lifestyle, shutting out all aspects and now, apparently, all the family bar Jason.“He’s okay, spoke to him today for an hour or so. He’s feeling pretty shit like me, but Wally’s got Iris looking after the kids and they’ve gone for a holiday out of the country together.” Steph smiled at hearing Dick was okay but was then distracted by movement on the other rooftop. Gordon, and handful of unis and the CSIs had arrived to cordon off and catalogue the scene. “Come on then.” Steph said to Jason, trying to be as upbeat as possible. “Let’s go eat!”

[evilsnowswan]

Summary: [Rumbelle Mermaid!AU] based on this prompt by repeatinglitanies: “In a world where people are aware of the existence of mermaids, Belle is a mermaid who lives in the world’s largest aquarium along with other sea creatures. She enjoys looking at the little humans who come to visit, especially a floofy haired boy who comes every week with his father….” An injured Belle is captured and brought to Gold and Milah’s aquarium. Gold is a marine biologist dedicated to protecting the creatures there, Milah wants to turn a profit, and their son has his own ideas about how to befriend a mermaid.

Rating: G/Teen Link to full story: [Read on AO3] Previous Chapters: [Coverart][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11]

Current Chapter: 12/? Chapter Summary: A new development

This is a short one, but it needed to stand on its own. ;)

Chapter 12

Dolphin Assisted Therapy proved to be a great success. Not only did her sessions with Chipper improve Indigo’s strength and agility, they also helped buoy her mood and lifted her spirits. She was more alert and cooperative, eagerly awaiting her daily trip to the outside pool each morning.

Gold had exchanged her stretcher for a wheelbarrow. It made the ride easier, and he didn’t need Miss Lucas or anyone else to assist them to get going. Indigo could easily lower herself down into the barrow from the pool hoist, and, as the barrow provided enough support for his bad ankle when he walked as well, he could push her the entire way to the pool without his cane.

Ever since therapy sessions had started, they had adapted Indigo’s schedule and her wardrobe accordingly. Her pale skin was sensitive, so she always wore a bathrobe when in transit and, after initial protest, would allow sunscreen to be applied to her face, ears, neck, torso, and arms. He used the strongest lotion - suitable for surfers and swimmers - that didn’t come off the second skin met water, and always applied copious amounts - which left a white sticky film on her, but sufficiently protected Indigo from getting sunburn for about at least half an hour.

After the first few trips, their gear had grown to not only include sunscreen, Indigo’s cup, and the flashcards, but also a selection of pool toys and a pair of orange floaties, and Gold wondered if, at the rate they were going, he might need a changing bag soon.

Today, he and Indigo had spent a wonderfully cool and calm morning in the medical wing, eating breakfast and doing physio, before he decided it was time to head out into the late summer heat of the grounds again.

Just when he was about to get the dolphin card, however, and put it up on the board, the phone rang; and when he returned to Indigo in her holding pool a little while later, Gold’s mood had shifted.

“That, sweetheart, was the nice doctor,” he told her, picking up her empty cup from the side of the pool and carrying it over to the sink to rinse. “Apparently, you need swimming lessons.”

She looked at him quizzically.

He took a brush to the inside of the cup, shook his head, and scrubbed. “And there I was thinking… never mind.”

A loud splashing noise had him turn, and he couldn’t help but laugh at Indigo, who, seemingly tired of waiting, fussed with the pool ladder, trying to figure out a way to use it.

“And what, little Miss Impatient, are you doing? Hmm? If you don’t mind me asking.”

She didn’t mind. In fact, she minded so little that she completely ignored him.

Pink tongue peeping out between her lips and brows furrowed in concentration, she used her arms to hoist herself up and climbed the narrow steps one by one, travelling up and out of the water backwards on her bum; nearly losing her balance and toppling over in the attempt to maneuver her heavy tail.

Again, she reminded him of Bae; Bae as a wee one, tackling a flight of stairs on his nappy-padded backside; but Indigo was neither a child - nor was she supposed to leave the holding pool on her own. What if she got stuck somewhere in the lab with no one around to help? What if she hurt herself or didn't make it back into the water on time? He couldn’t risk any more injuries. Or the life threatening dehydration.

“Now, wait just one minute!”

Lying on her back on the slippery tiles, Indigo grinned up at him as he leaned over her, droplets of water clinging to her dark eyelashes and glossy lips. Winded after the unsuitable exercise, her cheeks were colored and her chest rose and fell rapidly. Even so, she managed to look rather pleased with herself.

“And what’s this supposed to be, hmm?” He put his hands on his hips; told her ‘no’ in sign language, using the fingers on his right hand.

But fixing her with his sternest, most disapproving gaze had absolutely no effect. Indigo just laughed her charming quiet little laugh. It made him ridiculously aware of how pretty her face was: a hint of dimples, a cute buttoned nose - even when scrunched in amusement - and big round eyes so deep, for the first time in his life, he felt a fear of drowning.

Indigo stuck her tongue out at him, the moment passed, and the knot in his belly unravelled. He followed her outstretched arm and pointing finger to the magnet board.

There was no laminated picture card there, but Indigo made an unmistakable flowing motion in the air with her hands - mermaid and dolphin? - huffed soundlessly, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Ah, I see.” Gold chortled. “Your Grace deems it high time for her lunchtime stroll in the dolphin pool, is that it? Well, I’m sorry, but that will have to wait just a little bit longer….”

He nodded towards the holding pool, waited.

She narrowed her eyes, glared back unblinking, and shook her head once but with decision.

“Please, sweetheart. Be a good little merm-”

Indigo rolled over onto her belly and, wriggling her tail from side to side on the floor like a snake or lizard might, propelled herself forward with such an unexpected swiftness that it caught him completely off guard.

Gold sucked his teeth and cussed under his breath. “No. No, no. Absolutely not.” Hurrying to block her path, he crouched down with a grimace and held her back by the shoulders. “That’s exactly what the doctor said not to do.”

He scrambled to sign his concern and disapproval - somehow, clumsily, and also, unnecessarily, as Indigo seemed to understand just fine. She just didn't agree with him.

“I’m sorry. Argh… look. How do I… let me try and explain, at least?”

She blinked up at him. Pouted.

The thing was, he had no idea how to explain anything to her; how to get her on the same page.

Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he had grasped the issue in its entirety himself just yet, the unpleasant conversation with the veterinarian still fresh in his mind and swirling around his brain in never ending circles without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind.

Until this morning; until only a matter of maybe twenty minutes ago, in fact, everything had seemed to be going perfectly fine; seemed to be going according to plan. He had felt hopeful. Indigo was recovering, rebuilding and regaining strength and confidence. Looking at her now, on the floor of the med wing, her tail swishing cat-like across the white tiles, all he could do was to avert his eyes and give a sigh, pulling a plastic chair closer and sitting down on it.

He put his palms together and copied her movements with his hands, shaking his head firmly. “You need to stop doing that,” he told her. “It feels easier… ay? I get it.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “But it’s going to hurt you, sweetheart.”

Had there been any chance of helping them both understand better, he would have pulled up her latest x-rays and shown them to her on the large projector screen on the wall.

According to Dr Whale, there was a bulge now where there shouldn’t have been; enlarged muscles in the wrong places pulling on her vertebrae and causing damage to it, endangering her spinal cord - and thus, her life.

What exactly had he said on the phone again?

“See this bulge right there? It’s from swimming. She’s just like a dolphin, man. Spinal cord's exactly like ours, right? It's controlling everything. It's controlling her breathing, her heartbeat, movement. You get the picture. Irreversible damage to that and-”

At this point, the man had made an obscene noise and the corresponding gesture had entered Gold’s mind unbidden, so he had turned his face and held the receiver away from his ear in disgust, but it had already been burned into his memory; and the message was crystal clear. He could still hear it ringing in his ears.

“So you're saying swimming like that's gonna kill her?” he had asked, already knowing the answer but hoping for a different one.

“That’s exactly right.” The weird glee in Whale’s voice had made Gold shudder. Slightly unorthodox, but brilliant vet that he was, Dr Whale had always had a rather morbid outlook on, and attitude towards, life, which - given his excellent work performance - they generously overlooked and usually put down to professional curiosity. The man just liked to cut things open and study them. That was all.

But, for as long as Gold lived, he would not get his hands on a mermaid corpse to dissect. Not in this lifetime or the next. Whale would get to Indigo over Gold’s own dead body only.

“Sorry, boss,” Whale had added after an uncomfortable pause. “Her… anatomy… it’s… well, fascinating.”

“Anything we can do, doc?”

They had ended the call on a less than enthusiastic suggestion from Whale to give Indigo some exercises to try to improve her swimming; to correct her posture mistakes before the pattern got fixed in her body and became permanent. Only, he had seemed at a loss about how to best go about doing it, claiming that, with all due respect, live fish training and studies was more of Golds domain than his. He would, however, ask around his circles, though. See if any of his many acquaintances would come up with something to help them. Until then, Gold and Indigo were on their own.

Gold pointed at Indigo’s twitching tail. “Up and down. It is meant to flex up and down. It's not supposed to go side to side.”

Indigo cocked her head and knitted her brow. Studying his hands, her eyes darted back and forth between them and his lips while he spoke and gestured.

“You know that, right? Oh… what do we do, love? What do we do?”

Indigo at least seemed to have an answer to that. Her face set and lips pursed, she pointed first at the board, then made her hands swim again, and then nodded towards the large wall clock.

She couldn’t tell the time, could she? Yes, she knew how to count, but surely, her concept of time was nothing like a human’s?

“Outside, yes.” Dismayed, Gold dragged a hand across his face. “You want to see Chipper. Aye. I understand.”

He sat and thought for a moment.

No use burying one's head in the sand, was there? He was no marine-life vet, no college-certified marine biologist, and he didn’t have a trainer’s eye, but Gold had one thing going for him: his gut feeling. When push came to shove, his instincts had yet to fail him, and right now, they were telling him to get some air and a clearer picture to tackle the problem from the best possible angle.

“Okay.” He got up and walked around her to get the wheelbarrow out of parking - they ‘parked’ it beneath one of the long desks. “Outside it is then.” He gestured toward the holding pool and pool hoist. “M’lady, if you please?”

Indigo’s face lit up.

[svu-stories]

.78

For: Myself? I finally wrote, right? Prompt: from @otpprompting Characters: Rafael Barba/Olivia Benson Warnings: None Word Count: 1,953

"You don't have to do this."

"I do," Olivia insisted, reaching for the scarf that was draped over the chair next to her. Her fingers dug into the soft yarn before she wrapped it around her neck not once, not twice, but three times. It was still cold outside - an unusually long winter, she reasoned, caused by the stupid groundhog seeing his shadow or whatever on groundhog's day. It was a fitting cold. A cold that chilled to the bone and beyond. A wet cold, with rain and a dreariness that kept most people inside with a cup of tea and good book. It had been five years, though. Five years of fighting, of clawing, of digging her way out of hole after hole.

Five years of rebuilding her life from the ground up. First the foundation, a new family - Noah, Barba, her squad, even Lindstrom. Then the walls and roof, the structure that kept her steady - her job, therapy, kickboxing, yoga. And finally, the decorations that made the moments shine in the moonlight - a good glass of red wine, laughter at her favorite television show, late night talks and lovemaking that left her floating on cloud nine.

Rebuilding had started to make her whole again, but to truly close the wounds that had been left gaping, she had to do this.

"Then at least let me come with you," Barba pleaded quietly, kissing Noah's cheek before he walked over to Olivia, a hand taking hers into his own and lacing fingers together. "Please don't do this alone."

Olivia's eyes drifted to their hands, her perfectly painted fingernails stark against his soft skin, the feel of palm against palm. She squeezed gently, a sad smile lifting the corners of her mouth, "I don't think you should see me in...well, in the condition I may be in after. Besides, who will watch Noah?"

"That's exactly why I should come," Barba argued effortlessly, ignoring the more pressing matter of a babysitter. Carisi or Rollins could fill in at a moment's notice. "You know that I've seen you close to your worst, I can handle it."

"You shouldn't have to," she insisted, her voice holding a quiet firmness that left no room for argument as she adjusted the scarf so the tassels were even. "I'm a big girl, Barba. I can handle this."

A low hiss left him in the form a sigh and he nodded. Olivia squeezed his hand again, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, "But I love you for the gesture."

Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, Barba nodded, pulling back his hands and returning the living room to assume his playing position with Noah. His eyes looked up at the backside of her coat as she shut the door behind her, not even bothering to bid farewell to her son. Rafael's frown intensified as he reached for his cell phone, begging Rollins to bring Jesse over for a playdate.

It was one thing to push away her own spouse, but to be too despondent to think of Noah in the wake of her fear and desperation for closure meant that she wasn't all right.

She may not be ready to admit it, but Olivia needed him now more than ever.

Noah paused, his tiny hand gripping the red coal car of the train he was moving around the track playfully. He glanced between the door and Barba, shaking his head, "Mama go?"

Barba smiled, his eyes as reassuring as he could muster as he, too, glanced toward the door, "Just for a little bit, amigo. She'll be back before it's even bath time."

"Love Mama," Noah insisted, letting go of the train car before pulling himself to his feet and toddling toward the door. His hand pressed against it for a moment before looking back at Barba again. Noah frowned. "Mama love Noah, too."

"Very much," he whispered in bewildered agreement.

Rafael's phone dinged as Amanda insisted she'd be over shortly. He let out a heavy breath before tempting Noah with chocolate chip cookies. Noah's attention to the closed door quickly dissipated as he toddled to the table and excitedly munched on the homemade treat. Rafael settled next to him, compulsively looking at his phone to see if Olivia had requested his presence yet.

Request or not, he had already decided that he wasn't going to leave her alone.

He just had a feeling. And his feelings? They were usually right.

Only twenty minutes later, just as Amanda had promised, Rafael had slipped into his own coat and shoes to follow in the path tread by the woman he loved. Noah, however, seemed oddly uncomfortable with the newest development. He normally loved playing with Jesse - teaching her new skills or sharing in episodes of Doc McStuffins were some of his favorite pasttimes. Yet, today, he couldn't let go of Rafael's hand.

Barba sighed, leaning down to kiss his cheek again and promise Noah a prompt return. Amanda even offered him some of Jesse's Goldfish Crackers, but the pre-schooler was having none of their suggestions.

Barba's hand cupped Noah's tiny, chubby cheek, "Buddy, I promise to come home, okay?"

"With Mama?" he asked quietly, his lip trembling slightly.

"Yes," the older man nodded. "Very soon."

"Noah come."

Barba shook his head, lips once again pressed into Noah's hairline as his eyes drifted shut. He breathed in the scent - the scent that reminded him of Olivia. He smelled of a mix of baby shampoo and her favorite cinnamon candles.

"Mama is scared today," Barba started to explain quietly. "I'm going to go help her be brave and then we'll both come home to you. I promise. But it will help us if you can be brave, too. Play with Jesse and Aunt Amanda for just a little while, okay? Maybe you can order dinner for us all. Your pick, yeah?"

"Mama's favorite?" Noah asked quietly.

Barba smiled, pulling away and edging himself toward the door, "That would be perfect."

He watched Noah walk to Jesse, helping her pick out a book that they could look at together. Letting out a deep breath, he nodded to Amanda before sneaking out the door and rushing down the steps to the Uber that had already arrived. He slipped in the backseat, confirming the address with the driver and watching as buildings disappeared around him. Images of Olivia drifted through his mind - moments when her brokenness had shone through the tough exterior she managed to uphold.

He had to physically shake away the thought, unable to picture her hurting when he knew he was walking into more pain than he could even fathom. They both faced a number of monsters in the closet, neither one having a life that would be replayed in a fairytale, but they had seemingly come through stronger than before. In some ways, unbreakable even.

Unless this was the last straw.

Unless this was the moment he feared above all else.

As the small sedan he rode in rolled by a field, he looked up, seeing her frame in the distance. Olivia's body hunched over, her hair covering her face, the scarf haphazardly flapping in the wind. He knew, in that moment, that the world would stop for them. In this moment, all that mattered was finding safety in the midst of a storm.

"This is good," he said quietly, holding out a hand so the driver would stop. He uttered a thank you that could barely be heard as he flung his body from the car and into the breezy outdoors, slamming the door shut behind him. Olivia didn't seem to notice, though, her eyes trained on the ground in front of her.

Licking his lips, Rafael hurriedly put one foot in front of the other, hard ground offering some sort of comfort as he tread through gravestones and weaved around scattered flowers. He still wasn't sure who had paid for the plot that Olivia stood in front of. He didn't know where the money came from for the headstone. He wasn't sure he ever wanted the answers. The digging he'd had to do just to find out its location - the digging he regretted as soon as he realized why she asked - had left him with enough disdain to last for twenty lifetimes.

He stopped several feet back, not wanting to invade in the moment. The silence was eery, sending chills down his spine almost more forcefully the New York wind that cut through his spring jacket. He should have worn a scarf as Olivia did.

"I know you're there," she said, just loud enough for her voice to be heard over the rustling of grass beneath their feet. He couldn't help but hear the somber melody in her voice and its crack on the last word. "You don't have to avoid me."

Barba knew that was the closest sentence he would receive to an invitation into her personal memorial service. He sighed as he stepped forward, his arm instinctively wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. He tilted his chin up, lips brushing her cheek before he looked at the headstone before them.

William Lewis.

The spot where he laid for eternity was beneath their feet, and he could almost feel the fear seeping off of his wife. He felt her lean into him and knew he had made the right choice, even if she wouldn't admit it. She said she needed closure, but he knew it was more.

She needed to face the one person who had truly broken her.

There were days since Lewis that she still couldn't get out of bed. There were moments on the streets and around perps when she thought she deserved every bit of the pain she had been dealt. There was still shame in who he had caused her to be - the way she fought him, hurt him, was ready to kill.

There were still nightmares and flashbacks, fight or flight, and she needed to see, once again, that he was truly gone.

"I told you not to come," she whispered.

"I told you many years ago that you never had to face anything alone," Barba answered easily. "Even this."

He watched as a single tear trailed down her cheek. Neither of them made any effort to wipe it away.

"He's dead," Olivia murmured, kicking out her foot to run the toe along the edge of the headstone.

"He is," Barba nodded. "You can never be hurt by him again; he didn't change you."

"Yes, he did."

Rafael shook his head, looking at Olivia intently, "No, he didn't. You're still the woman I fell in love with, the one who fights hard for what she believes in and fiercely protects those she loves."

Olivia shrugged, her eyes still trained forward. His gaze reluctantly joined hers.

"He did," she paused. "Change me, that is. But he didn't win."

Barba knew better than to fight. She was going to believe what she wanted, and perhaps she was correct. An act of control so powerful was bound to leave scars that never fully faded - both visible and not. Yet, she did believe that she came out on the other side, and for that he was grateful.

"C'mon," he urged. "It's chilly. We should get you home. Noah's worried about you. He needs his mom."

Olivia nodded, reaching to take his hand as she took a step backwards. She swallowed hard, finally ripping her eyes away from the name that still haunted her.

"I'm glad you came," she whispered.

Barba nodded, spotting her car in the distance and slowly leading her through the cemetery.

There was no place he would rather be.