#The green poison remembered Jason to the Lazarus pits

[nelkcats]

Poison

Two new types of poison started being sold in Gotham's underworld; one is bright pink and the other a toxic green, both of which have caused the Batfamily a major headache because no one can find a cure or a reason why it suddenly started being sold.

Unfortunately, many of their Rogues have been using it for their attacks and this product has proven to be deadly.

It tends to act immediately on contact with an individual and cause extreme pain (some have commented that they feel like dying), as well as being effective on everyone it comes in contact with (including mutants, metas, and aliens) and not possessing an antidote. Bruce has tried to analyze it on many occasions but the batcomputer never comes up with results, as if the product is corrupted.

Strangely, it was recently discovered that Jason has immunity, and contrary to expectations, the poison seems to make him stronger? it even affects the influence of the pits!

This, of course, did not please the vigilante, the color of one of the poisons was too familiar for him to pass up so he decided to seek its source directly. Unlike Bruce, who was dedicated to the search for an antidote, Jason felt there was something darker about the whole situation, so he decided to track down the vendors and follow them.

Elsewhere, two halfas look at each other wearily as needles pierced their skin, it's a bit ironic that they let their guard down when the Fenton's declared they liked ghosts and forgot they had other enemies.

[alg1905]

2 Demons 1 Angel Ch6 Damian: Similar yet Different

Damian (possibly triggering to some people. All there is a suicide type cut but nothing life threating)

Obviously, this girl Abigail didn’t tell her entire story.  I wanted to question her further last night, but Todd refused.  Saying that she needed to rest.  I tried to question Todd as well. He shut me down.  

The two walked into the kitchen, Abigail supporting Respaw- Daniel due to his injuries.  She did appear similar to my mother, however none of mother’s typical emotions were in this girl. I assume she is a defective clone, why did grandfather allow her to survive?  This girl seems almost heartbroken.  Over what? She had saved the other clone in the room, and he was already up.  

Also, the story she recounted last night… I remember that night, when mother dragged me along to witness what would happen to Jason. I remember seeing a girl, about three years younger than myself, skin and bones, covered in scars. She was shaking. When we took Jason away, I recall asking my mother, “Mother, who was that girl?” “Her name was Atalanta. You shall know her one day in the future.” I haven’t thought about that incident in years. That name meant ‘as good as a man’ in Greek. Why was that her name?  Grandfather obviously had made her forget her original name. He had replaced it with ‘child’, she didn’t like the name I saw, she flinched at the word.

I didn’t realize I was staring at her, lost in my thoughts until Todd waved his hand in my face. “Earth to Demon.”

“TT, don’t call me that.”

She was blushing and biting her lip, why?

“So, how did you meet ... Daniel?” I questioned Abigail. I really didn’t want to defend myself this early in the day from a girl who hates alter egos.

“I would say around ten or eleven months ago, Ab’s found me. Patched me up, drugged me to a Lazarus pit, and she drugged me up to the mountains where we hid in a cave.” Respa- Daniel explained. He was eating cereal put before him.  The girl was playing with her toast, not looking at him.

“Tt, you must have not received the memo.”

“And that memo would be?” Res- Daniel questioned me.

“That the pits have been poisoned for the last year. Since we took care of the demon. So I am going to ask you again how-“

“He didn’t come back because of the pit.” The girl mumbled.

“Wait. If you didn’t use the pits, how did you bring me back? Also, what do you mean the pits are poisoned?” The second question was directed at me.

“Since the death of the demon, anyone who enters the waters becomes … “

“You have heard of the effect of the pit rage?” Todd questions. Resp- Daniel nods. “Well, it is like that, but it won’t go away. It also won’t heal your wounds anymore.”

“Clearly you didn’t enter the pit. So how are you alive?”

Resp- Daniel stares at Abigail. Again, it hits me how similar yet different this clone is from my mother.

She sighs, “I.. I took a risk, and it worked, ok?”

“No. Definitely need more than that. How did you bring me back?” Resp- Daniel questioned with venom in his voice.

The girl brought out a knife. It was a simple pocketknife engraved with Arabic on the hilt. She drew back her left sleeve to show a cut across it like a suicide person who was stopped. The scar was directly underneath raw skin on her wrist, as if she had worn manacles for more than half of her life. She cut there again on the old scar.

“What are you doing!?” Re- Daniel yells.

I was expecting red, but green came out of the wound. Lazarus green.

“You have been to the pits that many times?” I questioned. She’s wrapping her wound with some gazes she took out of her pocket.

“Yes” in a small voice. “I have… have no clue how many times I’ve been in there. Or why. All I know that it has made me look younger by at least a year.”

“Two years Abby.” Res- Daniel said softly.

There was a silence that hung in the air. This girl had been into the pit enough to make her blood as green as the Lazarus water.

Todd broke the silence, “So are there any other abilities we should be aware of. Due to the pit?”

She glanced at Resp- Daniel. Sighing he said, “Fine I’ll tell them for you.”

She gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

“After you found her Jason, the rescue mission failed. Ras decided to force a different type of punishment on her.”

“What type of punishment?” I questioned.

“Two types. First was letting her meet two other clones of you, Damian, and a clone of Abby herself. Dean and David. Dean had red hair, David brown. Ruby had blonde hair, green eyes. Other than that, exactly the same in looks to Abby.”

Todd commented, “Why do all of the guy’s names start with D?”

Resp- Daniel ignored Todd’s comment. “He allowed a relationship to be bonded with the four. Then he … tore them apart. Seeing how strong they were growing together.  Next, he … left Abby chained in a cave in pure darkness. It caused her to go blind.”

Todd intervened, “You are saying that she is blind? Yet she can perfectly stitch you up?”

“You didn’t let me finish. Once he was sure she was completely blind, he injected her with something. She sees through echolocation. Also, that scream of Abby’s you heard earlier, came from that. Using it like a screech owl I suppose.”

Todd and I just stared at her.  She is literally a human bat.

“After some time, Dean, David, Abby, and Ruby made it to the mountains. She brought me to the same cave they called home. At some point he came after them. Dean, David, and Ruby were killed, and Abby captured. “

Now I understand her heartbreak. Both Respawn and I look exactly the same to the other clones. This also explains why she saved Respawn. Her hair was covering her face, tears hit her jeans.

I finally spoke, “If you can’t see color how could you keep them straight? Especially as they looked the same physically?”

Her head rose. I saw her blue eyes.  Mother has green eyes. Perhaps she is not a clone. Those blue eyes looked very familiar. Almost like…

“I could tell them apart by their rhythms.”

Res- Daniel cut her off. “Heartbeats Abby.”

“Right heartbeats. Just like I can tell you two apart from your heartbeat, how they act, and .. um what’s the word?” She looked over at Res- Daniel for help.

“Demeanor.”

Abigail motioned to Resp – Daniel. “That word, however, you say it.”

Clearly, she is not well educated if at all. It seems that studies were not grandfather’s priority with her. I decided to ask her simple questions from now on. “Who are your parents? Or are you a clone of my mother?”

Her face went to confusion, head tilting sideways. “What are pare- parents? What is a mother?”

Todd choked on his coffee. Daniel was shaking his head at the ground, a slight smile on his face. I just stared. I understand she may not comprehend what the word parents means. But mother? How does she not know what a mother is?

“Todd, I believe we should take these two to father.”

“Agreed. I will grab some coats for them first, and call the others in. We will go in two hours.”

[consouling]

This is to reverse the current hurt/no comfort by adding a different one instead!

Everyone is dead.

He is, too.

This is the afterlife.

He didn't think the pearly gate would be so... green.

It reminds him of a lot of the shitter things in his life.

The Lazarus pits, Ra's eyes, the rough patches with his family, Damien's eyes, his own smart mouth, Jason's eyes, heartbreak, Danny's... everything.

It's been ages since then. It shouldn't hurt as much now. It still does.

Like a good little Robin, Tim takes note of his body. He's in his stuffy gala suit, the one he died in.

He's paler. There's is no heartbeat. No lungs to breathe from. No connection to the ground.

He's floating.

Wrong sounds, wrong sights, wrong feelings.

Upon further study, an intricate lichtenberg figure stretched across his left arm. He traced it past his shoulders, feeling it spread upwards towards the edges of his face.

He has no way of knowing if the scar reaches his eyes or not.

Right then, there is a voice.

One Tim remembers.

Through love or through hate, one he'll never forget.

"You're new here, aren't you."

Tim turns to him, silent and defensive.

It was Danny.

That sickly neon green in his eyes is still present, the shape-shifting limbs still dangle carelessly.

But there is no snear or malice in his posture. It's just Danny... but ghostly.

That makes Tim feel exponentially more like shit.

He's got funking consurn in his eyes.

"Hey, you okay?"

Before he could say a word in response, bursts of cough erupt out of him.

The feeling of being pulled downwards doesn't overshadow the gravelly pains in his chest.

At the end of it, Tim's feet are firmly planted on the ground, head in the crook of his potentially evil ex boyfriends neck, heaving away the horrible feeling of dust and soot from his throat.

Steady hands support his weight from his elbows while Tim desperately tries to get a better stand.

"Do you want to see a doctor?"

Despite the pain, he vehemently shakes his head. He doesn't know who, where, or what doctor. It's easier to stick with what he knows.

That being Danny himself.

They stay that way for a bit, intimacy growing ths more time passes.

"May I have your name?"

Such a simple question, but...

That's where his mind vision hearing all sensation splits.

Poisoned in truth, Danny, his beloved blackened angel, is crying, laughing, kneeling, breaking breaking breaking. Tim doesn't know what's happening, but he knows by the end of it he'll never see Danny ever ever again.

But also, drowned in ignorance, everything is fine, Danny is curious, cautious, helpful, happy happy happy. Tim is lead around and taught how to be dead, a ghost. And at the end of it, he is held in Danny's warm embrace.

An easy choice.

Lower and more shaky than intended, "Alvin, Alvin Draper."

"Why?"

That one word sent a shock through Danny's system, like he was back in the portal being electrocuted all over again. Still, he knew what was at stake, so even though that look on Tim's face made him want to fall to his knees and explain everything, he knew he couldn't.

Instead, he raised his gun as the portals filling the sky multipled and merged together as the ghost zone tried to absorb their reality. Channeling his inner Dan, he gave Tim a mocking smirk, What? You didn't think all that was real, did you?"

"You...you're lying!"

Danny tilted his head at an angle he knew would look as smug and condescending as possible, and judging by the burst of rage he felt coming from Nightwing a few rooftops over, it worked. "Tim, you know better." He said in Bruce's voice, It was the exact thing Bruce had told them when they were starting thier relationship.

Everyone had disapproved when he had brought his new boyfriend home a few months after meeting at the skatepark. Bruce hated Danny from the get-go, more suspicious of him than he had been with any of the batkids' previous partners.

Danny opened his mouth to mock him more but was quickly cut off by a punch to the face, not by Nightwing, or by Robin, who was still racing towards him at seemingly Mach speeds. Nope. It was Hood, who looked madder than Danny had ever seen him, surprising both Tim and Danny alike.

"You did all of this just to steal our souls and trap us in some weird afterlife dimension as your slaves?!"

Danny had no idea where the slaves thing came from, but it sounds villainous, so Danny's gonna go with it, "Of course!"

[kyberphilosopher]

Hiss

[Part ii. of Bite] Jason’s been resurrected, only to find he’s been replaced as Robin. Luckily, an old enemy of the Batman has the attributes to help. Word Count: 6465

Warning[s]: guns, crime, language, crude humor, Mitski, non vegetarian reader, age gap, glorified taskmaster ally. Following part i the readers official gender is not disclosed. 

“Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

☈ - ✮ ✭ ✮

Six months. That’s how long it took for Jason to die. Six. Whole. Months. In an abandoned warehouse, in some foreign country that he couldn’t even remember. He’d been fifteen, small for his age but fifteen nonetheless, when that clown had beat him. And what had Batman done? Nothing. He’d let him sit in that warehouse, in that foreign country, with that clown at age fifteen- for six months. And he had done nothing.

Not that it really matters now. It had, at one point, to Jason. He’s in denial that it still does. But to Batman? Oh, it never mattered at all. How long had it taken Bruce to replace his son? A week? A month? No, it had been six months. Barely. And the clown? He was safe and sound, very much alive and loose as he usually was. Batman had put him in Arkham, after a while, but of course it hadn’t lasted for very long. Jason’s death? That was permanent. At least until there was a new and improved and very much replaced Jason running with Batman, six months later. That was permanent too.

So one can imagine the confusion you felt when you opened the door to find a very much alive ex-Robin on your apartment doorstep. 

201 Arkham Street, apartment 317 Gotham City, Gotham County, New Jersey

That’s the address given to him by the Riddler. Putting him in Arkham seemed to be one thing that the Batman had got done during Jason’s little time away. Clearly it had ended up well enough for at least one person. Jason hadn’t even needed to threaten the Riddler out of riddling. In less than ten minutes, Edward Nygma had revealed the Mockingbird’s address, who they like and don’t like, what their suit was made of, and finally their name. Batman had always assumed Riddler and Mockingbird were best friends, birds of a feather with all the times the they’d seemed to make some kind of appearance by the others side. Some friend Riddler was now. 

Jason had snuck into the Batcave recently, and while going through files, decided to take a glimpse into Mockingbird’s just for the sake of curiosity. He wasn’t expecting much. When he was fifteen, it had been near empty. But sure enough, the file had been expanded upon relatively greatly in the past- what? Four years? That sounded right. But one thing that hadn’t changed was your seemingly long standing friendship with Edward Nygma, the Riddler. Still, so much for it. 

Batman had seemingly made a note of allies of theirs, then crossed out multiple names. Poison Ivy, Bane, Deadshot- and yes- the Riddler, stayed. Scarecrow, Black Mask, and Catwoman were all shockingly crossed out. Jason hadn’t expected the last one. Below the allies were the list of crimes. That had changed too. They’d gotten more violent towards the end of the list, straying away from the Mockingbird that the ex-Robin had known. Mockingbird had picked a fight with Dick’s Nightwing enough times for Batman to make a note of too. Before Jason could get to the new pictures of Mockingbird, he quickly closed the file. Didn’t need to see anymore. 

So based on what he had gathered, you should’ve looked different. He’d memorized your face when he was fifteen. Was expecting it to have changed compared to then. But when you open the door and Jason’s face to face with you, Mockingbird, it’s like the first time. Only your eyebrows have gotten slightly darker, and your eyes have rung with dark circles. 

✮ ✭ ✮

The same can’t be said for Jason Todd, however, who you let into your apartment rather quickly. 

You’d done your research on him, too, but only after you’d heard about his death. A death which was confirmed. After locking the door and beginning to turn around, he answers the question before you can ask. 

“Superboy and Lazarus Pits.”

“Ah,” you respond, crossing your arms. The man stands tall in your living room, though it’s not forced. You’ve got no idea what a Lazarus Pit is, but it seems to have changed the Robin you knew before. He was scrawny before. He puffed his chest out before. He had something to prove before. Now his broad shoulders make him look bigger naturally. He could reach up and touch your ceiling with no effort. His face and jaw are masculine and strong, eyes bright green and blue and cyan like you remember. That’s how you know it’s Jason Todd.

“It’s because of the power struggle, isn’t it?” says Harley beside you as you both look over the side of the roof, her flat on her belly and you crouched on the ledge in watch. 

“Hm?” you’d tossed back through your voice changer, not even looking away from the busy street below. 

“Jay killed the Robin,” Harley chirps. “You know- Batman’s little boyfriend? In the shorts and the tights with the flips and the kicks? Oh, that kid went bing, bang, boom. Jay’s been real pumped about it.”

This had made you turn to Harley Quinn. You looked at her over your shoulder, still in position. Though you hadn’t thought about it at the time, it was a good thing she couldn’t see through your mask right about now. 

“The kid?” you say at last. 

“Yeah! Jason Todd! Ya’ know him?”

Harley doesn’t look at you, bubbly as ever in her own world. But you watch her for a moment. Then you turn back around to the direction of the street. “No.”

“Well I’m sayin I bet that’s why there’s so much crime goin’ on now. Old Batty’s got it...”

“I heard,” you tell Jason, before he can go into further detail. He nods once in understanding, in line with a breath, and then looks around the room. Your apartment is small, seemingly in decay, and looks like a shithole. Just like the rest of the building. 

“Mockingbird, I presume,” he offers finally. “Y/N L/N was it?”

You nod once, holding your gaze at the ground in thought before taking a step toward your kitchen. It’s close by to the living room. So close, in fact, that your island counter practically touches the back of your couch. “Robin,” you greet in turn. 

“My name’s Ja-”

“I know what your name is.”

Just then a sprinkle of dust falls from your ceiling, mixing with dirt and shit and pollen. “Nice place,” Jason condescends. 

“I’m sorry,” you put your hands on your counter as you lean in to look at him. “Weren’t you under the ground not too long ago?”

“Weren’t you in jail not too long ago?”

“I never went to jail.”

“But your buddy Ed did didn’t he?”

Your eyebrows crease, and Jason notices you lean forward a fraction of an inch more. He got to you. “How do you know about Edward?”

Jason Todd gives a small smile. His right hand reaches up until it’s poking the side of his head a few times. “Bat knowledge.”

You frown tightly. “Don’t do that. I didn’t like that.”

“You like beating up Dick Grayson?”

You shift. “Yeah. I did.”

“And Catwoman? Huh?”

“Yeah,” you say a little louder. “I did. What wonder boy? You wanna see the scar to prove it?”

“Okay,” Jason huffs. He closes his eyes, his jaw clenching, and then he speaks softer to control himself. “Okay. I’m not Boy Wonder anymore, or wonder boy. Don’t call me that.”

You look him up and down. His eyes, his jaw, his brows. The Robin you knew those years ago. He’d been beaten and blown up. He must’ve cried for help. 

“Okay,” you say, equally as soft. “But just for the record, I haven’t been the Mockingbird for years. Can’t really call me that either.”

“Why not?” Jason Todd questions, turning around so his back faces you while he observes your apartment. You can see his muscles through his shirt. 

Because you were just a kid. Because I liked you. Because you didn’t deserve it. Because Batman didn’t help. Because you were replaced. Because most of my friends laughed it off. Because I couldn’t go after Joker myself. Because I got angry. 

“Just grew out of it,” you shrug instead, turning around. You open your dirty fridge and pull out a bottle of lemonade and two glasses. “What are you doing here, Jason?” you say as you pour the drink, your back now turned to him. 

“I need your help.”

“Whatever with?”

“I’m thinking of getting a little...” Jason’s voice goes low into something like a masculine purr, “...revenge on Batman.”

“You came back from the dead,” you turn around with two glasses of lemonade, “to get revenge on the Batman? That’s your great plan?”

“No,” Jason says simply. He’s since turned around so he’s facing you. “Screwing with the Batman is just a piece of the fun. He’s nothing.”

Jason accepts the glass that you hand to him. You sit down on your couch in front of his figure. That simple motion is enough to bring out some more dust from your walls. “So what’s the revenge?” you take a sip of the sweet, gritty liquid. It coats your teeth strangely in seconds. 

“New Robin. Ever heard of Tim Drake?”

You stop your sip, looking up at the big, broad Jason. You can already tell where this is going. “Uh, Jason? We might wanna let god fix it, because if we fix it, we’re going to jail.”

His brows shoot up. “You hit me in the face with a pipe.”

“I didn’t hit you. You walked into my swing. But you wanna go after the kid, Jason? Really?”

“Yeah.” He crosses his arms so his forearms flex. 

“Tim Drake?”

“Yeah.”

You roll your eyes in thought. On one hand, you hadn’t been Mockingbird for years. You stopped when you were eighteen, and you’re twenty one now. Not that it’s helped you very much. You’re still struggling in a shithole, broke and unhappy and no longer able to afford school. And Tim Drake hasn’t really done anything wrong. But on the other hand, Batman is a dick, and you really stopped liking him after what happened to the former Robin. You’d wanted to go after him and the Joker for it, but you’re not far enough in the Gotham food chain for that. Trading swings with Selina was as close as you got. 

“Alright.” You stand. You’re not even close to Jason’s height. “Lay out the deal. You got a suit?”

✮ ✭ ✮

And that’s how you and Jason Todd ended up on a roof that night. You, at the crisp age of twenty one, and he at what you suppose is his version of nineteen. Still working on wrapping your head around that one. 

You’ve pulled out your Mockingbird suit from under the bed. It was a bit dusty, but not hard to slip into. Everything seems in place. It’s just old. Your voice scrambler is still working okay and all the eyes light up efficiently. Jason’s got a suit too. 

“I don’t,” Jason answers, his face suspicious. His eyes are twinkling as he looks down at you. It’s so hard to believe he’s just a boy- or was, last you saw him. 

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I got you.”

You lead Jason to your room, into your closet, and into a space even farther back where an illuminated glass case the size of several yard sticks stands. It must cost more than your whole apartment. Inside of it is a metal suit like a military uniform, similar to Bruce’s Batsuit but with an Arkham emblem over the chest. 

“Call it the Arkham Knight. You like it?”

“Where did you get this?” Jason steps forward, raking his eyes up and down the design. Bruce would hate it. 

“I stole it from the Batcave.”

“The whole display case?” Jason snaps to you. Then his brows shoot up and he takes a step closer. “How do you know where the Batcave is?”

“How did you know where my apartment is? And yes, I took the whole case. It was just sitting there.”

Jason turns back around to the suit. It’s growing on him. He admires it. It’s perfect. The Arkham symbol will put the Batman into a state of despair. “Hard to believe you and Selina aren’t friends anymore.”

“We never were,” you mutter back. It’s really not his business that you ended so many partnerships because of his death.

“You’re sure this is the place?” you question. It sends Jason into a state of euphoria, hearing the distorted villainy of your voice again. It feels like the first time too, just like when he saw your face again. It feels how it did when he was fifteen and infatuated with the Mockingbird. It’s almost dizzying. It’s just strange to hear it knowing that now you’re on the same side. 

“Yeah,” he answers through his helmet. His voice is distorted too. “This is the place.”

You’re overlooking a Gotham street at night, something you’ve both discovered vigilantes, heroes, and villains do a lot of. Smoke fills the air along with police sirens and building lights. You’re positioned in one of the outer districts though, away from most of the commotion. 

“I can’t remember the last time I was here,” you say, half to yourself. 

“I can,” Jason says back. “When I ran with Batman. Last year. I was fifteen.” Jason's voice drops. “Or was I...”

You frown behind your own mask. Of course. Jason died four years ago, and he was fifteen when that happened. He came back- you’re not sure when- older and stronger and behind on the changes of the world. He must not know about social media, or the latest television crazes, or the new roads in Gotham. It makes you sad. 

All Jason sees when he meets your eyes through his visor is several red slanted lines. You’re both unreadable through your helmets. 

“There’s a good restaurant down on this corner,” you both turn back to the street, crouching in wait. “Maybe B-Man likes it.”

“He never eats,” says the ex-Robin. “Never sleeps. Never does anything.”

“You know he broke my buddy Scarecrow’s bones last Halloween?” you scoff. “Literally for not knowing where Black Mask is. Your old boss is weird as hell.”

Jason cocks an eyebrow you can’t see. “Thought you weren’t friends with Scarecrow anymore?”

“Anymore? B-Man keeping tabs on me?”

“He keeps tabs on everyone,” Jason shakes his head. “You’re just a file.”

“Hm,” he hears you say. Contemplate, more like. You speak again after a moment of silence. “Well Scarecrow and me are fine, thank you for asking.”

Jason scoffs. “He your boyfriend or something?”

“My boyfriend’s over in Metropolis.”

Oh. 

“How’s your girl?” Your head snaps to Jason at once, hands twitching around. “Or guy.”

He tosses a look to you that you can’t see, but you can guess at. Somewhere between ‘what the hell’ and ‘why the hell’ and an eye roll with furrowed brows. 

“Come on. Rose Wilson seems your type. Ooh, Artemis?” You suddenly nudge his arm with your elbow. “Batgirl? Is it Dick?”

Another look is thrown your way. This time it feels more angry. “Whatever, Robin,” you offer lightly. 

It dawns on you that perhaps Jason has never had a partner before. That seems more likely, especially after thinking about his situation, and suddenly you feel bad. It’s too late to vocalize an apology now though.

“Fine,” you say at last. “Let’s just stop talking.”

“Let’s do.”

✮ ✭ ✮

It starts raining not long after that. 

The drops bounce off your suits harmlessly. There’s still no sign of this Tim Drake and Batman. 

“Hey,” you break the silence. “Has anyone ever told you you look exactly like a statue?”

“Must be a resurrection thing.”

“Yep.”

The rain falls harsher.

“So,” Jason begins. “I have to ask. How do you do the- the…” he spins his pointer fingers around rapidly.

“What the fuck are you doing? What is that? No- what is that right there?”

“The thing that you do.”

“I’ve never done that in my life, Jason. What is that? Finger jiu jitsu?”

You hear Jason suck in a breath as he turns away. “You think you’re so funny.”

“You asked me for help. And between the two of us- who has died here? Not me. I’m hilarious.”

“Oh,” he scoffs. “So hilarious.”

“You seemed to think so. When…” your voice trails off. You almost wanted to mention that night in the warehouse to him. A memory of him looking up at you, his hands bound behind his back as he stares in wonder flashes in your mind. But it doesn’t linger for long. Movement in the street catches your eye. “Jason.”

Both your heads snap down to the place below. Sure enough, after a few seconds, a figure steps into view of the moonlight. A skinny kid with dark hair and a bright red and yellow costume. He looks younger than Dick or Jason.

“That’s him,” your partner says. He reaches behind his back and pulls out a long rod. It unfolds with a click that you recognize- the click of a gun.

“What?” you furrow your brows. “Woah- what?”

“I’m gonna shoot him,” Jason tells you casually, fiddling around with the weapon. It’s coming into shape more and more as a sniper rifle.

“That is a child,” you whisper hiss. “He’s like ten!”

“I don’t think he’s ten,” Jason puts his eye over the scope. “This is revenge.”

“Please, do not shoot a child for replacing you in your job of tightie whities vigilante.”

Jason huffs through his mask and looks over at you. “What did you think this was, bird?”

“I thought we were just like, gonna kick him in the balls or something! This is exactly what I meant by ‘we are going to jail’! I told you we should’ve let god fix it!”

“He’ll be fine.”

You knock the rifle out of the Arkham Knights hands with a bang. It clambers across the roof top until it’s nearly over the edge, half on half off.

Jason and you go down at once, shoulder to shoulder in a tackle. Thunder booms overhead. Through his visor, Jason sees you raise a white, gauntleted fist back in a punch, aimed right for his face. Luckily, he manages to catch you by the torso and neck and throw you off.

When he pushes himself to his knee and foot in a kneel, he looks up to find an exact replica of himself. Not literally, of course, but looking at you is like looking into a mirror. Your hand is placed on the rooftop the same way his is. Your knees are bent at the exact same angle as his own. When Jason cocks his head to the side slowly, yours follows him at the same time. So this is what it means to fight the Mockingbird.

He decides to reach for the gun at the side of his leg. He manages to fire once- and miss- a bang going off that he’ll be lucky Drake doesn’t hear over the storm. You knock the gun out of his hands easily, dodging a punch to the stomach before countering with one of your own to his face. It hits the exact same way Jason’s do. He sees your knuckles coming closer to him and almost thinks they’re his own.

Next idea is toss you off the building. Key word: you. Not him.

Jason grips the back of your head through your hood, reaching around. He carries you with him while he stands, tensing his abs as he feels you hammer your elbow away at them. It’s the knee to his crotch that makes him let go and let out a strangled groan.

But before anything else can happen, you spring forward at him in a pounce. Your palms latch onto his shoulders. His feet disconnect from the surface of the roof and the both of you go backwards until neither one of you are on the building at all, over the side.

Jason gets tangled in the emergency stair well. His metal suit clangs against it as he falls and tumbles down, either causing or saving some head injuries. You hit your back on an old street light before landing in a trash bin.

This is it, you manage to think to yourself. Lying in a garbage bin in Gotham at night. And in the rain. This is rock bottom.

I am going to kill everyone on the block for this, thinks Jason.

✮ ✭ ✮

You do eventually get up and remove yourself from the garbage bin. Jason sits at the bottom of the stairs, watching you. You do not exchange words. He does, however, follow you down the street as you essentially stomp.

“Ma’am,” he offers quietly to a gawking older woman.

You enter a small restaurant. More of a diner, really. The door jingles as it opens, and Jason watches you walk to the side until you find a table by the window. You sit down with a huff, tapping one of your helmets red eyes. He shuffles into the space ahead of you, nearly skirting the table across the floor with the bulk of his own muscle and suit. He can feel your judgy eyes on him as he clambers into the seat like a large, run down father.

“Hi there,” a chirpy waitress bounds. She’s a large, redheaded woman in a bright yellow uniform and a hat with a spring connected to a plastic burger on top. It is ridiculous, funny, and you are sadly not in the mood. “My, aren’t you two some interesting looking people! We don’t get a lot of men of metal around here!”

You both look at her silently, masks on but hatred seeping through boredly.

“What can I get you tonight?”

“A gun,” you drawl tiredly, rubbing your palms over your mask.

“We’re not sellin’ those right now, my dear. Something else?”

“Two cheeseburgers would be fine,” Jason speaks up for you.

“Two burgers,” the waitress repeats with a smile, writing it down in her burger notepad. Her cheeks are rosy as she beams happily. “And should I be expecting Superman?”

“Die,” you snap to her, watching her hurry off to the kitchen. Then you put your head down in your folded arms on the table.

Jason glanced around. It’s empty except for the two of you and some dumpy guy in a trucker hat with wide eyes. “What’re you staring at?” Jason all but barks. Normally, he tries to make himself as unnoticeable as possible in public. Not very confident or secure, it seems. But now he’s tired. He just fell down about a million floors worth of metal stairs. It’s late and he lost two of his guns.

“What?” you raise your head, also looking at the trucker hat man. “You’ve never seen two people in superhero suits before?”

“Beat it,” Jason orders.

The man is quick to stand and speed walk away. Still you egg on, “get out of here, bozo!”

“What a fuckin’ prick,” Jason grumbles as he watches the man trip down the street through his view from the window, the door still ringing to signal it’s been opened.

“Yeah,” you agree tiredly.

Your nimble fingers reach up and back to push your white hood from your head. Then they click against the sides of your face and pull the helmet away, revealing your face. You inhale as if you couldn’t get enough air before. Jason watches you, still as a statue, his visor giving him the luxury of being able to monitor your breathing.

“Now what?” you gripe, rubbing your eyes. It can’t be comfortable with all the armor on your hands, but you don’t seem bothered. You must’ve gotten used to it by now.

The Arkham Knight ahead of you only cocks his head to the side slightly. Silent with his helmet. “I’ll help you punch Tim but that’s as far as I’ll go.”

“Why are you defending this kid?” you hear Jason breathe in return. For a split second, electricity runs through you at the sound of his distorted voice, the way his body looks in his suit of armor and how unreadable he is through the helmet. It shocks you all the the way down to your crotch.

“You know,” you begin, eyes widening and voice quieting with a sudden nervousness. “He’s just a kid. Younger than you were.”

Jason scoffs and turns his head away from you, now looking out the window. Gotham is dark and damp outside. “Bullshit,” he scoffs. Then after a few seconds and continues. “Tim Drake and I are the same age.” His head pulls back slightly, fingers giving a strange, sudden twitch. “Or were. We’re-”

You’ll never know what Tim Drake and Jason Todd were. Jason never finishes his sentence, and only his suit flashes with little codes and details to let you know he’s still alive in there. Besides that, he’s as still, lost in sudden thought. You frown and lean in a bit, tapping your elbow with your fingers while you shift uncomfortably. “You’re nineteen, Jason.”

His head twitches again. Now you know he’s heard you. “I’m two years older than you,” you reason. “You’re nineteen.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Why did you let me go?”

Your eyebrows scrunch and unscrunch. Another wave of electricity shocks down your body, but this time it’s because his voice sounded more like his own. You could hear it under the layers of metal and distortion. But option one is to respond to his question by pretending you don’t know what he’s talking about. That seems like it’s for the best.

“You were just a kid,” you tell him honestly. He silently presses you on. “And I just- I looked at you and I…” I really liked you, kid. Best night I had in years. Made me smile. God, you had to stop working with so many other Gotham city villains just for making jokes about the kid. “You were fifteen,” you say, looking away. “Just a kid.”

Jason watches you. Again, your head turns so you look out the window. He would’ve expected that to be the end of it, but you continue. “Why didn’t you turn me in?”

Jason’s about to pretend to not know what you’re talking about, because it seems like it’s for the best that way. But then he remembers you can’t see anything through his helmet. “What’re you talking about?” he gruffs.

“You saw my face in that warehouse,” you press. “If you had told Batman, I would’ve been to jail. Maybe Arkham. But that never happened. So why didn’t you tell him?”

I was obsessed with you, Jason’s mind screams. In love with you! It hisses, which makes Jason cringe. “Guess you were a kid too.” That’s right. You were seventeen back then. What is that? Last year of high school? You balanced a criminal career and the required education for a minor at the same time. Where were your parents during this?

Jason bites down on his lip hard. Parents. Should shut up about that, probably.

“I’m uh,” you bite your lip and then lick it. “I’m sorry for pushing you. On the roof.”

He shifts. “It’s nothing.”

You turn back to the window. Your arms uncross from atop the table and go to rest in your lap. This close and this still, Jason can make out all the details in your suit. It’s impressive. Kevlar and rubber and plastic, the Riddler had told him. Not the gloves. That’s metal and plastic. 

“So,” Jason decides. “How do you that?” Your brows crease in confusion. He tries to do the finger motions he’d down before, which makes you cringe. “The mirroring. And the fighting and the…” he goes through the motions again. “It in your helmet?”

Your confusion sinks away. A new expression washes over your face as you lean in. One finger reaches up, poking your temple and you smile softly. “Bat knowledge.”

Just then, the waitress saves the day. “Two cheeseburgers for the scary suit people!” she beams, setting the plates down. For a second, her breasts are pressed into each of your faces. Jason first, who does not move and you can’t see under the helmet. You bite back a snicker but instead seep a childish look. Then you’re next, and you can feel Jason’s silent laugh under his Arkham Knight suit as your eyes go wide. “Enjoy, dears!”

“Boobs,” you shiver. “Just got boobs in my face.” And then Jason watches you carefully pick up the burger in your dangerous gloves, and take a bite.

Indeed, for the first time that night, the man in front of you reaches up and pulls off his own helmet with a click. You watch it be taken into his large, veiny hands and passed to the edge of the table, against the wall of the window. Then your eyes wander up to his face, which makes you chew slower.

A strong face. Sharp jaw, perfectly in line nose. Lips always pulled into a scowl. Bright eyes with tired circles and scars across his skin. There’s a streak of white in his dark hair you hadn’t noticed at all before, though now it’s practically blaring you in the face. Jason Todd is very handsome. 

“What?” he says behind his burger, raising it to his lips but freezing before he can bite into it.

You shrug and focus again on your burger. You hear Jason bite into his own.

“I don’t have any money,” you tell him after a moment, swallowing down a bite.

“Me neither,” Jason answers. He nudges his head towards the window. “There’s an ATM across the street.” You nod in response.

A few bites in you speak again. The minutes have been filled with the noises of chewing and swallowing and yummy meat and cheese. “You ever heard of Mitski?”

Jason swallows his bite, which are bigger than yours. “What?”

“Mitski,” you repeat. “The singer?” Jason shakes his head. “You seem like you’d like her. My boyfriend hates her.”

Jason’s brows twitch.

“Why aren’t you with him?” he questions, taking another bite.

You roll your eyes. “Too expensive. He’s-”

“But he lives there.”

“He just didn’t offer,” you shrug. “I don’t have the money anyway. It’s fine.”

Jason cocks a brow. Your own boyfriend didn’t offer to get you out of this shithole?

You roll your eyes. “We haven’t talked in a long time okay? He’s busy. I’m busy.”

Both of Jason’s brows raise now, almost playfully. “Busy with what?”

You’d be offended if you weren’t busy trying to answer. What were you busy with? After you graduated, money went dry with university. It became less frequent after retiring from the Mockingbird mantle. Most of your jobs were minimum wage and short lived. You’re a bartender now, but not somewhere that’ll keep you going probably. Most days you sit around the apartment or run errands, sometimes hosting Ivy. Last time she’d been over, she’d given you a plant that had quickly died and spoke about Harley quite a bit. And Riddler obviously doesn’t come over anymore. Scarecrow had once but he’s off doing god only knows now. 

“Shut up,” you hiss. “What are you busy with?”

“Controlling crime in Gotham,” Jason takes a bite.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Well.”

“You know you didn’t have to ask me to do this,” you say. “You could’ve just asked someone else. There’s a lot of people in Gotham okay with child killing.”

“I wanted you,” Jason explains. He’s quick to speak again to keep you from thinking about his words. “You were the first person I thought of.”

You’re nearing the end of your burger. “How did you find me?”

Jason shrugs mid-chew. He’s almost done as well. “Riddler.”

“Gave me away that easy?”

“Yep.”

You chew your last bite. It was a good and hearty burger, the cheese melting perfectly against the patty and your tongue.

“You want anything else?” Jason asks.

You watch the street outside, eyes squinting on the ATM. “Jason,” you mutter. “Jason.”

✮ ✭ ✮

Three men snicker as they load up dark blue duffel bags. They’re slimey and smelly, like an old sewer. Money falls from the machine like a waterfall.

Their success doesn’t last long.

One of them comes in contact with the Mockingbird’s elbow and slams his head into a brick building. The other two are just inexplicably on the ground, incapacitated while the Arkham Knight stands overhead.

“Fuck,” you breathe through your helmet. “I missed this.”

Jason’s just picked up the duffel bag when the sudden sound of sirens blare through the air. It’s close. Too close.

“Well that’s no good,” you mutter. You turn to Jason, taking a sharp step forward. “Give it to me.”

His brows furrow under the mask.

“I’ll pay the waitress,” you say. “You run.”

Jason reaches behind his belt and shifts the weight of the bag into one hand. A gun appears- a small handgun. You duck down as he raises it at you, holding your head down as the BANG! rings through the air.

You stand back to your feet, bracing yourself at the sudden sight. The Arkham Knight charges you, but only to pick you up like you’re nothing and jump through the glass window he previously shot at. The adrenaline makes things hazy, but you can see the blue and red lights now. It doesn’t matter. The two of you fly across what turns out to be a pawn shop, burst through the back door and back room until you hit the cold outside air of Gotham again. Multiple doors slam shut behind you. You’re both out of breath and panting, and it’s raining again. This time in an alleyway.

But the cops won’t follow you out here.

It’s quiet besides the panting from you two. Jason has more endurance, you’re sure, but you can hear his breathing inside his helmet. He lets the duffel bag slip out of his grasp as you double over. “I did miss that,” you offer. “Running from the police.” The Arkham Knight just continues his breathing.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

✮ ✭ ✮

Two days after the incident, you enter your apartment lazily. Your keys are tossed onto the island counter before you wander through your mail. One of your letters is from Ed in Arkham, warning you about “some big guy asking about you”. A bit late for that now. You haven’t heard from Jason since that night.

It isn’t until you go to sit on your couch that you notice a large, nearly bursting open envelope. Your fingers stretch to reach it, examining it. No return address, but written in pen in sloppy letters is the word “Bird”. Luckily, it doesn’t feel like a bomb. It feels more soft but firm.

You open the envelope. Your breathing hitches, breath slowing when you see what’s inside. Then a smirk comes over your face.

Just then, dust falls from your shitty apartment ceiling.

✮ ✭ ✮

A week after the failed Tim Drake incident, a young man decides to pay a visit to your building. He is tall and strong, with raven hair laced with a white streak at the front. He frowns at everything, ducking his head to make himself smaller and less noticeable. He cares not for being perceived by other people. He’s well aware of how he looks.

The man’s knuckles tap against apartment 317. He shifts, looking back and forth. The man is quite attractive in is casual red hoodie and jeans, but he wants to be out of the open as soon as he can. After a moment, there is no response from inside.

He scrunches his brows and knocks again. When he takes a step closer, he can hear something from the inside. Music. A piano and drums and maybe an organ?

Jason twists the door knob with ease and steps ahead and inside. The apartment is completely and totally empty. The music becomes louder and more clear. It’s a female singer he doesn’t recognize.

Only the bones of the kitchen remain. Counters, cabinets, a sink, and an old fridge. There’s mold in the corner of the space. But in the middle of the floor where the couch and living room used to be is a cluster of things. Things meant for Jason Todd. 

The man eyes the pile for a few seconds. Then he sets towards it. The first thing he recognizes is a CD player with the volume turned all the way up. He still doesn’t know the song.

Besides the player is a suit he’s quite familiar with. It’s clunky, but folded as neatly as it can be given that it’s made of metal. On the top is the helmet that gives it away. The Arkham Knight suit. It sits on a dark duffel bag in front of a small white piece of paper with the promise of ink inside. Jason decides to open that first.

You’re coming back… and it’s the end of the world…

Haha! I knew you’d show up!

Jason nearly rolls his eyes at the first sentence.

Thanks for the money. I know it was you. Thanks for the fun night too. Sorry about hitting your balls. They felt really big if that makes you feel better.

It didn’t.

I was thinking of Metropolis, but what do you know, me and the boy toy decided it might be better to hold off on it. I got a bit of dirt on the kid by the way. You’ll find it on the back of this paper. Oh and I hope you like the Mitski soundtrack. I bet Drake’s the kind too. I’m going to keep the Mockingbird suit if you don’t mind. I guess our night of fun kinda reignited an old flame. Don’t even think about coming after me.

Son of a bitch, Jason internally screams.

I have a gift for you though. You get the Arkham Knight. You look good in it. And a little something extra in the bag by the way. 

Love, Mockingbird.

I just need a quiet place… where I can scream, how I love you…

Indeed, inside the duffel bag Jason Todd finds some cash and red fabric with an R emblem over the chest. He doesn’t need to pull the rest out to understand what it is. He decides not to question how you got his old Robin suit or when, but lets himself smile a bit, his chest expanding with his breath. It’s a real smile too. 

You’ve given Jason everything he needs to go after Tim Drake himself.

✮ ✭ ✮

I hope I’ve ruined everyone’s day. You think I would let the reader and Jason be happy together? You absolute baffoon. Maybe I’ll make a part three for gits and shiggles though. I’m not sure about this one. Definitely more based around their interactions than the drama unlike the first one. It was fun though. I hit the paragraph limit. I think I did a good job with the chemistry. I do apologize for giving the reader a real set in stone age though. I don’t like to to that because I think it takes away the point of having a ‘reader’. Also if you’re vegetarian please just eat a cheeseburger it’s so good y’all are weird. Oh and fun fact I just got a Red Hood tattoo on Saturday! Look at me go!

Tagging everyone who asked for a part ii: @yunho-leeknow @fyowyn-writes @martianmilfhunter @beardedfandiplomatprofessor

[akela-nakamura]

See, the thing with a last ditch, we-have-nothing-left-to-lose plan, is when it works, you remember that consequences are a thing.

Jason’s remembering that now.

Now, as his grave burns green. Now, as that same burn rises in his blood, bubbles in his throat. He swears he can feel his eyes glowing.

Like calling to like.

Dead calling to dead.

Ah, fuck, this might’ve been a bad idea, he thinks as everything turns green.

He jerks back, as the green coalesces into a mesmerizing swirl. He can’t look away, can’t tear his eyes from the fucking portal that his grave has become. He can feel a tugging, deep inside. Beyond the rage of the Pit, below the acrid burn he’s long grown used to, something settles. Something Calls.

For Tim. For Tim. For Tim.

He has to do this. If his brother never wakes up--if his family has to watch Tim wither away, alive but asleep, helpless to do anything, to wake him, they will shatter into pieces. Jason’s death broke them, broke them in ways he still can’t understand, and that was just Bruce, Dick and Barbara. Now, with so many people, Jason doesn’t even want to think of where the fault lines would land.

He’s not sure they would ever recover.

For Tim, he thinks again, as the tugging turns into pulling, as he stands up without making the conscious decision to.

As something, someone, steps out of the portal.

For a second, Jason can’t comprehend what he’s looking at. Everything is green--And god how he hates that color. The poison green of the Pit haunts him, he sees it in his dreams, he sees it when he lets the anger win, when he’s too fucking tired to fight back the rage, and he hates it.--and swirling and it feels like home, and it feels like death. Then it’s like his vision clears, or he rubbed sleep out of them, or he switched to night vision on his mask when darkness suddenly fell.

Or he just knows what stands before him is like him. Dead but not. Alive but not. Between. Halfa.

Whatever the case, Jason got his wish. He Called, and something answered. Someone who looks just younger than Jason himself. His hair is pure white, his eyes are Lazarus green. Or not quite. The Lazarus is poisonous, toxic and wrong. It’s acidic and distinct. This is...warmer. Bright green, neon, for sure, but calmer.

Jason realizes he’s shaking. Beneath the Pit, the toxic vice grip, something hums.

It feels nice.

“Oh, dude,” The kid says. It sounds like English but not. He understands it, even thought he feels like he shouldn’t. “What happened to you?” The kid’s looking at him with horrified sympathy on his face.

It’s really hard to breathe, right now. There’s something happening inside him, and he hasn’t felt this unstable since he first came out of the Pit. He’s made of rage, and he’s made of peace, he’s alive but he’s dead. His heart is beating but it’s not. It’s so goddamn loud.

It’s so quiet.

“I died,” Jason says, his voice a wreck. He’s shaking, head to toes, and he can’t catch his breath. “I died, and I didn’t, but that’s not--I Called for something else.” He can’t forget. This isn’t for him. He isn’t doing this for him. Whatever sacrifice he has to make here, whatever price there is for Calling something so obviously not of this world, he’ll pay it. But he will make sure that he saves Tim first.

No war can be won without young men dying. He thinks. He breathes. Those things which are precious are saved only by sacrifice.

It’s an appropriate quote, and it makes him want to laugh. It’s a reminder, it’s a grounding thought. Books have always welcome him, and he uses the words he finds within them to try and put words to his feelings.

“For--for something else?” The kid says, aghast. “Dude, what else could you have Called for? You need some help.”

���No,” Jason snarls, body jerking forward in the start of a lunge. He holds himself back by the faintest thread of control. The kid looks startled, but unafraid. Good, good. Jason’s not sure what has control right now. The Pit, or him, or the something that’s building in him. “No, I didn’t Call for me. I Called for my brother.”

Something like sadness crosses the boy’s face. “I can’t bring back the dead, if--”

“He’s not dead,” Jason says. He won’t let it happen. Tim will fucking live. “He--the whole city’s been falling into comas. It got him. And--it felt like this. It felt like something dead.” Jason’s pretty sure he’s not making sense, but he doesn’t know how to explain it. How to put into words what he felt holding his brother’s limp form. How something in him just knew.

“Okay.” The kid holds up his hands, like he’s asking for a pause. “How about we start this from the beginning?” He holds out a hand. “My name is Phantom.”

Jason stares at the kid’s hand, wrapped in a white hazmat glove. Okay. Start from the beginning. Jason can do that, he can be sane. Even though it feels like he’s shredding apart, even though every second that passes with Tim still asleep feels like an eternity. He holds his hand out to shake Phantoms, but he can’t quite make his hand grasp. It’s like something is physically preventing the contact.

Like magnets, repelling.

“I’m Jason,” He says after several seconds of trying to make contact. The rage is building in him again, so he puts his down down before it forms a fist. “And I need your help. My brother,” he pauses, breathes, tries to gather thoughts that have scattered like water on a hot pan. “fell into a coma. It’s been happening all over the city. No one knows why. When I touched him, it felt like--it felt familiar. I remembered...stuff. About death. And I Called you. I don’t care what it costs. If you can help him, I will owe you anything you ask of me. Only of me. My family is off limits.”

The portal has closed by now. It being gone has done nothing to calm the storm in Jason’s chest, to stop him shaking. It’s hard to think. It’s hard to breathe. In fact, it might be even worse. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll rip himself to shreds if it helps Tim.

The kid--Phantom, lands on the ground. Somewhere in the back of his head, Jason realizes he’s been floating the entire time. Phantom looks concerned. He doesn’t look like he’s planning on asking Jason for his immortal soul, or control of his body every other Thursday or something.

“Alright, not quite the beginning, but I can work with this.” Phantom says, mostly to himself. Jason’s not sure he can form more words right now. “So, just to make something clear, there’s no price. I’m not here for your first born or whatever. You Called, and I answered. I’m here to help. And I’ll help your brother. But, dude, you’re not exactly in the greatest shape right now. How long have you been like this?”

Like what? Jason thinks, rage roaring. Alive but wrong? Alive but dead, dead but alive, a horrifying shell of the kid he was? How long has he been choking on the Pit waters? How long he’s been made of rage and the screaming, driving need for blood? How long has his control over his own body been a fight between his own will and the shifting riptide of the water he can’t get rid of?

Jason stares for a moment, a war tearing in his chest. He throws his head back and laughs. It’s not nice. It sounds like a scream. It’s sounds as insane as he’s always feared he was.

“I’m going to take that as a while.” Phantom says, sounding slightly faint. Oh, good, Jason’s scaring other dimensional dead kids now. Perfect. Check that off the bucket list. “I can help you. I want to help you. And then we can help your brother. There’s no price, please, let me help.”

Jason wants to believe him. The calm below the Pit does. But the Pit is a wild storm in his head right now. It’s gleefully ripping at his memories, reminding him of all the times he trusted and it backfired. Reminding him of betrayals and the consequences of them. It’s poking it’s cruel fingers into every part of him, building fury and distrust and the blinding rage he lived on when he first came back to Gotham. It’s getting hard to see past of the wall of water climbing in his vision.

But god, if he’s telling the truth, if he can quiet the Pit, if he can stop this conflict in his chest, the constant vigilance he has to keep up, if even by a little bit.

If it could be calm in his head, for once. If it wasn’t a constant war.

He might actually feel alive.

But Tim.

“Tim.” He gasps out, and oh, wow, it’s getting kind of dark. Or hard to see. he doesn’t think he should be shaking this hard. He doesn’t think he should be breathing this hard. He can’t calm himself. Can’t find his control. It kind of feels like he’s dying again. Like he’s falling off a waterfall and there’s nothing to catch him.

“I’ll help him, I swear, but I have to help you first. Please.” Phantom says, his hand out again. There’s something honest in his gaze. The promise feels like it has weight. Like it’s not just words. It’s words written on paper, bound and titled. It’s words with binding. An oath.

It feels like salvation. It feels like if he can just grab that hand, he’ll finally be able to breath again. He’s drowning. He’s been drowning and it’s only now, with the surface so close, that he realizes he’s been under water. He wonders if he ever truly left the Pit.

He’s doing this for Tim. He did this for Tim. But he can’t help Tim if he falls into Pit rage. He can’t help Tim if the tearing in his chest kills him again.

The Pit is screaming at him not to trust Phantom. To kill, to tear through Gotham and find who hurt his brother, his way.

The calm beneath merely hums, content.

Jason lifts his hand, reaches for the surface. Just this once, he’ll trust on blind faith. Just this once, he’ll throw aside every instinct, every hard lesson beat into his bones, and trust.

“Okay,” He says, his throat a wreck. “Help me.”

His hand connects.

Short DPXDC Prompts #364

Nocturn makes a pact with Professor Hugo Strange to advance both their power and skill. Gotham residents are falling into comas. The Bats don’t know what’s happening. One of their own has fallen and the amount of comatose Gothamites exponentially increases each day. If only they had a connection to someone from the GZ or liminal person that could help them.

[witchsblackfox]

Escape to The Circus

Chapter 25 (couldn't think of a title)

--------------------------

Damian was in the study reading through his father's books. The grand father clock chimed it was only seven thirty but it felt like midnight. With a sigh he decided to go check on his little sister. She looked pretty upset with herself if she's awake I'll take her do the bat cave to practice. He thought closing the book setting it down on the table and head toward the stairs. A thump was heard just in the hallway above.

"Cass." He ran upstairs hearing a sound of whimpers and finding a bluenette curled up into her knees breathing heavily. Damian gently touched her shoulder feeling her body freeze in place no longer shaking or breathing. "Are you okay?" Her eyes were glazed over tears welled up clearing the dazed look. She uncurled herself and pushed herself into him crying into his chest. Damian was a little confused by the small woman. This woman who is a mute circus performer, or was. This woman who is attractive and confident that she has all of them crazy for her. This woman who can switch to evil in a second if something Malcore is around. Now she is just crying apologizing into his chest holding onto his shirt as tight as possible. Defeated he softly stroke her back sitting on his toes to rock her.

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize. It's alright Mari." This continued for a little bit longer until he heard footsteps coming up the steps. Swiftly he slipped his arms underneath her legs, lifted her up as a princess, then took her to his room for some privacy. He set her down on the bed and grabbed his desk chair to sit in. "Want to talk about it?" She wiped her eyes off with the sleeve of the jacket then curled up under it almost disappearing. He expected her to close herself off but she moved her arms out of the jacket to talk.

'I keep hearing things. Voices all over the manor. not your family, but others. My head hurts when I try to remember anything. I feel like I'm stuck in a dream and I just can't wake up. When you said the circus disappeared, I remembered. I thought it was all a dream I was watching through a mirror. I'm sorry." She was looked so tired as she spoke. Damian began to get annoyed with her apologies but he got up and just hugged her.

"I'm not good with this, but we are trying to help you. Dick, Tim, Jason, and even Alfred are trying to help Selina find a cure for what that Asshole Malcore did to you. There is no reason to apologize besides, we all became monsters at some point in our pasts. So we don't blame you at all." The words escaped him but it seemed to help her. She relaxed into his body and pressed closer to him. "Can you tell me what you heard before I found you?"

'I don't remember much, just people fighting, a doctors voice, then a pain in my chest.' She signed giving Damian a pinch on his arm to explain the pain. The man gasped yanking his arm away.

"Ouch. Okay. Well your okay now right? Alfred he left yours and Cass's dinner wrapped and in the kitchen if your hungry. Her eyes shimmered excitedly and climbed off the bed with a wiggle. Damian smiled watching and watched her run out of his room down to the kitchen. "Geez, how do I keep getting the weird girls."

                                         øøøø

Down in the batcave, Batman decided he and Red Hood should go out to patrol leaving Dick, Tim and Alfred to work. Selina walked in from the mouth of the cave before the batmobile runs her over.

"In a hurry much?" She meowed walking toward the boys.

"He's in a mood since Marinette and Cass came back." Tim said focused into the beakers.

"Marinette is back? When?! Can I go see her?" Selina jumped all over the boys hoping for a yes.

"She might be asleep already. Her and Cass didn't come down for dinner. Tim and Jason came up with a way we might be able to save to Mari." Dick said as the skinny woman hugged him. She was so full of energy.

"What is it? Don't keep me waiting." Selina let go and hovered around Alfred. He moved over to let her see what was happening. Next to Tim were two vials of blood, the pills (separated from poisoned and regular pain killer) from Marinette's medication, and the serum from Ivy. Tim took two drops of the blood on a clear circular dish. Crushed the poisoned pills into fine powder. He then sprinkled a little of it onto her blood watching as her blood suddenly multiplied? How could it multiply? Suddenly the blood turned green and evaporated. "Well....that is not right. She'd be dead by now."

"But remember she has the Lazarus water in her, so even so she can't die from blood loss." Alfred said. Tim took a drop of blood onto a slide now and slid it into the Bat computer.

"Computer, analysis the substance." Tim ordered, The screen flipped to a microscope view showing what is on the slide and added notes and circles to the screen telling the team what was there.

"This is a blood sample. In the blood holds the Lazarus pit, Erythroxylum Coca, Hoodia Gordonii, and Cubozoa venom." The computer said.

"Yes we know that already. What else is there that is effecting the blood?" Tim and Selina both said.

"Unidentified Source. could be magic." Oh Bruce wasn't going to like that. "Not Metahuman." The computer said once more then turned off ejecting the glass disk for Tim to take. Tim was close to ripping his hair out.

"So, we are back to square one." Dick said falling into the chair.

"Maybe we just need fresh blood." Selina looked back and forth between the three men and waited for a response. "Did you try Ivy's serum on the old blood?"

"Yes and it just got rid of maybe one or two of the bad cells which just multiplies back." Tim said.

"What we need to focus on is getting her off the meds. The blood we have turned brown like they should but they haven't shown any oddities until we added the meds." Dick said rubbing his eyes They were down stairs for hours.

"Maybe Ms. Kyle is correct. Why not get fresh blood and see how it looks, reacts to the poison, and the cure completely. then maybe find a way to break the control on her mind." Alfred said bringing the sad woman to a smile. She pulled her right arm down and mouthed yes then wrapped her arm around Alfred's heading upstairs. Tim and Dick just blinked and followed to make sure Selina doesn't wake up the girls.

"Speak of the devil! Mari." Selina ran to the woman at the counter with a fork in her mouth. Mari quickly removed the fork and hugged Selina. "I missed you. let me look you over." She did. She stripped the jacket off of Marinette's body, finding new bruises along her neck and arms. The old bruises on her shoulder and left arm are no longer there a relief to the men to see. Marinette quickly covered herself back up with the jacket and faced Selina.

"You look good. Marinette I need a favor." Marinette watched waiting. "I need a little bit of your blood. Can we get some?"

"Not a lot, just a small vial full. This will help us find a cure for you." Tim said stepping over and laid his hands on her shoulders. Marinette looked hesitant then opened her mouth.

"Will it help me remember?" Her voice was soft yet rough sounding. Selina covered her mouth about to cry from the sound. Tim spoke to answer.

"It may not but our friend Harley might be able to help." Marinette nodded then turned on the stool to face the marble top.

"Okay." She sighed slid her arm out from the jacket sleeve and held it in the air. Alfred grabbed a towel to place under her arm along a needle and small vial for Tim. Dick stood beside Alfred as Tim and Selina stayed beside Mari and watched Alfred prick her finger giving it a gentle squeeze to pour into the vial.

                                         øøøø

Mari pulled out her right arm so Mr. Pennyworth can draw blood from her. When she looked at her arm however, she found two unknown bruises sat on her right wrist and in the crook of her elbow with little prick holes. She eyed her arm curiously but turned her attention to the man's hand coming close to hers with a needle and prick it. It didn't hurt again which always unsettled Mari, but she was getting use to it. This should make it easier to be Ladybug I won't have to worry about hurting when I fight. The thought startled her making her flinch while Mr. Pennyworth squeezed her finger. Where did that thought come from? Ow... my head. Once He was finished he placed a bandage on her finger and she yanked it back to rub her head.

"I bet you want to know what is going on. They are not going to cure you, they are looking for a way to kill you. Your immortal now Marinette." The dark voice spoke. As Mari opened and closed her eyes a dark shadow stood behind Mr. Pennyworth moving his hands around the mans neck and just smiled with its bright red eyes.

No your wrong. Stop it leave him alone. They are not trying to kill me. They are trying to destroy you. Now go away! Marinette was upset and she didn't realize she moved her feelings to her face until everyone were backed away from her. The shadow moved away from the elder man and chuckled disappearing back into the shadows. She turned blinked then looked around finding everyone with a concerned face. Frick...

'I'm sorry.' Marinette hopped of the stool and left the kitchen walking outside toward the garden for fresh air. The night was peaceful there at the Manor. She walked through it finding a stone bench with a gargoyle sitting beside it. 'Mind if I join you?' She asked the statue and smiled sitting beside it on the stone bench looking up at the semi starry sky. I just want everything to just stop. This shouldn't even be happening.

"Honey come back to me. Come on baby I love you." Marinette looked around hearing the same female voice from Selina's apartment.

"Hey there Bugaboo." A black cat stepped out from under the bench stretching with a yawn then turned to look at Marinette. She got up petting the gargoyle then walked down the path following the cat. "This way my lady." She stopped in front of a wall of roses. The roses were housing several butterflies and moths. The black cat walked up to Mari purring and rubbing at her ankle. She leaned down picking him up, staring at his bright green eyes a familiar sense almost made her cry. He raised his paw up to her mouth earning a soft smile and a kiss on his pad. Marinette gave him a small hug then walked closer to the flowers looking at the solid white moth almost as big as the moon.

"Bye bye little butterfly." Marinette backed up looking around for the sweet voice then back to the moth it flapped its wings flying away toward the moon. She remained staring at the moon for a bit longer then decided to lay on the grass with the cat and watch the sky fill with butterflies.

--------------------------

@starry-bi-sky @zebrabaker @wuvpancakes @18-fandoms-unite-08 @weird-pale-blonde-person @vivilakitty @novicevoice @northernbluetongue @luciferge @krispydefendorpolice @nomiegnome @persephonebutkore @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @magicalfirebird @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @dorkus-minimus @dur55 @disneyfoxuniverse @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @shamefullove @yuulxd @moonlightstar64