#but then i realized first joker has to know about the lazarus project

[rubydubydoo122]

Jason gets de-aged because I've seen fics of Tim or Dick being de-aged, and Bruce losing his memory, but no one has realized the potential for angst if you de-age Jason.

Jason was surrounded by green. Green that felt thick like jello, yet lucid like air. Green that bit at his skin like frostbite, yet burned like explosions on his back. 

Explosions. Bomb. Joker. Mom. Dad. 

Jason bolted up, gasping for air. That was the Lazarus Pit, wasn’t it? But what about the explosions? Why the Joker?

As if thinking the name summoned the demon, Jason could hear the laughs echo around the room. He threw the blankets off and checked the time. 

6:13 am. 

Weird time for a house filled with vigilantes. Even if he went to the library to get a book, Bruce would probably be asleep. Or by the time he woke up, he would have to get ready for work. 

“If you need me for anything, it doesn't matter if I’m busy, come get me. I want to help you. You don’t need to figure things out on your own anymore.”

But his Bruce said that. Not this raisined version of him. Not that he was thinking of asking this fake version of Bruce for help. He was a big boob. 

Though, if he got ready on the slower side, he could probably find Alfred. 

Jason soon realized that he probably hasn’t been in this room in a long time, because all of the clothes in his closet were the same. 

Wait. Something was missing though. 

His runaway bag was gone. Why did he run away? The journal said coming about going to Ethiopia to find Sheila Haywood, but Jason would’ve assumed he’d go with Bruce. Not on his own. 

Jason will figure it out once he sees the case report. There’s no need to draw conclusions when the facts are within reach. 

He decided against changing just yet, because his clothes were really dusty, and he’d rather not be sneezing all day. 

So he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Jason and Dick shared a bathroom. It’s like, one of those bathrooms that connect to two different rooms. And if Jason remembers correctly, Damian probably shares the bathroom with them too. There were two toothbrushes in the cup in the center of the vanity, but considering that Jason probably hasn’t used his room in years, he took a new toothbrush from the cabinet under the sink. 

Hey! Dick no longer uses bubblegum toothpaste. Is it possible to be proud of someone for that?

“I got eight hours of sleep, why am I hallucinating Jason?”

And Jason did what any reasonable human would do, and punched the person, because he did not sound like Dick, or Bruce, or Alfred, or any of the people he met last night. 

“Ow! Ok! Fine! Not a hallucination.” the dude who looked to have permanent eyebags like a racoon rubbed his arm.

Jason suddenly realized he had a fifth sibling he hadn’t met yet, and punching them was probably the worst first impression “I’m sorry! Sorry. I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t thinking-“ 

And Jason and him just stood in the bathroom staring at each other. This racoon dude also looked really familiar. 

“Who revoked puberty from you?”

“A lady with a magic stick.” 

The dude just nodded. And then a smirk formed on his face, “How spooked is everyone?”

“Bruce won’t even look at me.” 

Maybe Jason should get the dude's name, but also, if this dude thinks that Jason already knows everything, then maybe he can get some information. 

“You’re gonna use this to guilt trip him, aren’t you?”

Jason thought about it, he didn’t really want to guilt trip Bruce, but, information . “Obviously. I’m just trying to figure out the best way to go about it. Have any suggestions?”

The dude grabbed his toothbrush from the cup, “You could get your Robin suit out of the mem-“

The door opened behind Jason, “It is too early to be listening to your irritating voice. I thought you would be at your apartment.”

Nonono, Damian would maybe ruin Jason’s plan to gather information, “Hush, child, the adults are speaking.” Jason turned back to the mystery sibling, “you were saying.”

“Don’t tell him anything about the past five years. Todd does not remember. He Probably doesn’t even remember your name.”

“Damian’s lying. Of course I remember.”

Damian crossed his arms“Then what’s his name?” 

Jason squinted at the man hoping the faint trickle of familiarity would turn into recognition. And then it hit him like a car iron. “Tim Drake. Camera kid.”

Tim stopped brushing his teeth for a moment and tilted his head to the side, “I never told you about that.” Tim spat into the sink, “if you had to go out on patrol with the rest of us, would you be Robin again?”

“Drake what—“

“The adults are speaking.”

Jason spit into the sink, “I wouldn’t wear the emo Robin getup Damian has going on right now, but if my old uniform is somewhere in storage, I’d put it back on.”

Tim seemed to smirk at the Emo Robin comment, though he flicked Jason’s forehead,  “If you had your adult brain in there, that would not have been your answer.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to be Robin anymore? Robin is magic.” 

A look of pity crossed Tim’s face, though it didn’t feel patronizing. It honestly felt like it was masking another emotion from showing on his face. “You just, kinda out grew Robin.” Then he winced, “Trust me, a ripped 6 foot tall Robin is not a pretty sight.”

Jason suddenly had a mental image of a man in a Walmart Robin suit that was ripping at the seams burned in his head, “Why would you give me that mental image? I need to bleach my brain. ”

Tim just shrugged, “payback.” He turned around to leave and visibly shuddered, “In a shake, garter snake.” he waved his fingers over his shoulder.

“See you soon, fat racoon.” Jason grinned, because he very much feels like as an older brother, he would teach his younger brothers corny goodbyes. Though maybe he didn’t. Who knows

Tim had been out of the bathroom, but peeked his head back in and grabbed a comb from the counter, “Gotta run, skeleton .”

“ Drake ! You can’t say that!”

Tim walked away again, “What I say is fine, spiky porcupine!”

There was definitely a growl that came from Damian, but Jason couldn’t say he wasn’t laughing.

Alfred was cutting up some fruit by the time he made his way down to the kitchen. 

“Ah, young Master Jason. I didn’t expect you to be up this early, considering how much adventure you had last night.” Though Jason didn’t see the way Alfred’s knife faltered momentarily. 

Jason shrugged, “And more adventure awaits. I gotta figure out what happened in the past five years. Need any help?”

A wave of nostalgia hit Alfred. Not many other people in the house could be trusted to cook without burning the house down, and even though maybe Cassandra or Damian could be, cooking with Jason felt special in a way that would hurt if he tried to teach another one of his grandchildren. “Would you mind preparing the pancake batter?”

And Jason gave Alfred that smile that was brighter than the sun, before they fell into their rhythm, working side by side. 

As usual, Duke and Damian were the first downstairs in their Gotham Academy uniforms. Alfred placed a bowl of fruit in front of Duke and a cup of chai in front of Damian. “How come Todd is allowed in the kitchen?”

Jason frowned, “Wait, am I not usually allowed in the kitchen anymore? Or is it because I’m not in the manor often anymore?”

“What makes you think that, Master Jason?”

“My room looks pretty much the same. There’s nothing to show that I’ve grown up in it.” he stopped mixing the batter, “Did Sheila Haywood get custody of me? Is that why I stopped being Robin?” Why must Bruce raise all his children to be detectives?

There was a clatter that came from right outside the kitchen, followed by a, “I didn’t tell him anything, Bruce, I swear.”

And then there was a mischievous smile that formed on Jason’s face, “Yeah, he didn’t. He didn’t even tell me why I was dunked in the Lazarus Pit.”

Bruce came into the kitchen and leveled Jason with a look, “If Dick didn’t tell you either of those things, how do you know them? Did you remember something?”

Jason went back to mixing, “You’re forgetting you’re not the only detective in the house, old man.”

Dick snagged a chocolate chip from the container Jason had gotten out, “He found an old notebook and eavesdropped on me and Damian’s conversation.”

“Though Todd does remember some things. He remembered my mother and I. And I suppose Drake.”

Then Tim came in making a beeline for the coffee maker, “I don’t think I count, gremlin, I was the boy next door.”

“No, you were the camera kid. Bruce, I was right . How many times did I tell you there was a kid following us? How many times did you say, hrf.” Jason put down the bowl to emphasize his point.

Bruce sighed, but there was a slight smile on his face, “Fine, Jason, you were right—“

“Exactly. Now, since I proved to be more observant than you, you have to give me something?” Jason was obviously trying for the teasing tone that Dick usually uses, but it came out less certain. Like Jason didn’t know where he stood with Bruce. Which was fair considering last night. 

Bruce picked up on it too, and reached a hand across the counter, “Jason, I’m sorry for acting really distant last night, I just– it’s a lot different seeing you like this again. Though, that doesn’t change the fact that I would give you the world if you asked for it. You don’t have to prove anything to me.” Bruce looked around the room, and then glanced at the floor, “That goes for all of you.”

And all the boys just stood there, gaping at Bruce. 

Though Jason was frowning and looking down. He shook his head, “But not… older me, right?”

“Doesn’t matter if you’re old and wrinkly, or too little to walk, I would give any version of you the world.” he had a hand on his heart, “but I- I can’t kill for–”

“No!” Jason had taken a couple steps back and had his hands up like he’d been caught, “I would never want you to kill someone. I would never want anyone to kill someone. Not for me.”

Bruce stood there frozen for a second. Everyone was frozen. Because the youngest three were suddenly given the knowledge that their older brother, the one who always seemed to be out for blood, was a pacifist. And the three people in the room who knew Jason, were hit with the fact that death and all the hardships Jason had to go through had changed him so much.

Though Bruce nodded, “Ok. ok, Jason.” Bruce cleared his throat, “What did you need?”

“I’m just… really confused. And no one’s telling me anything, and I-I know something bad happened, I just don’t know what and I don’t want to draw any wrong conclusions, so can I ask? What happened?”

The grief looked like it was about to tear Bruce apart. How are you supposed to tell your son that he went through hell and back. That he’s lost almost everything he’d gained in the three short years he had lived with them. How are you supposed to tell your son that he died ?

“A lot. A lot happened in the past couple years, Jason. Zatanna is coming over tomorrow to hopefully get you back to your normal age and all your memories back. Going over what happened during that time would just be…”

“Like digging up old graves?” Jason supplied. He must have noticed everyone flinch, “Sorry, that was probably a bad choice of words. Can’t I be given one piece of knowledge? I’m just trying to figure out how everything fits together, and the one piece I can’t seem to let go of is…Sheila Haywood? Did I really get a mom back? Are we close? Can… Can I see her?” 

And the hopeful look in Jason’s eyes was an exact mirror of the look he had in his eyes days before he disappeared. “No, Jason.”

The hope in his eyes flattered, because maybe just couldn’t see her. Right now. “To which one?”

Bruce didn’t say anything,

“Oh. I lost another mami .” And even though Jason was looking at the ground, it wasn’t hard to tell there were tears pooled up in his eyes, “How?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and looked to Alfred. He would not be able to make it through any more of this conversation.

Alfred wiped his hands on a towel and brought out a handkerchief to wipe away the tears that had fallen from Jason’s face, “Your mother, she was being held hostage. And you tried very hard, you tried so hard to save her, but in the end… there just wasn’t enough time.” 

“But, I-I could’ve been faster– I could’ve–”

Bruce rounded the counter and kneeled so he was eye level with Jason, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Jason bit his lip to keep it from wobbling, before burying his head into Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce immediately wrapped his arms around Jason.

“It was the Joker , wasn’t it?” Jason mumbled into Bruce’s shirt.

Bruce held onto Jason much tighter.

[volixia669]

Sure Bioware, I totally believe that Joker, the guy calling Cerberus assholes back in Mass Effect 1, and probably read the report where Shepherd shot the Cerberus scientist behind Akuze, joined Cerberus because "The Alliance wouldn't let me fly."

ESPECIALLY since I refuse to believe an Earth military would ACTUALLY ground one of their best pilots (particularly given the whole LOSING A CHUNK OF THE ALLIANCE FLEET bit) as well as just LET him go awol.

See, I read a theory on here that Chakwas is actually an Alliance plant via Hackett and yknow what I believe that.

But I think Anderson did some finangling behind the scenes as well. (Maybe in league with Hackett...) Council position or no, he DOES still have plenty of weight, and I BET one of the first things Joker did was report all the oddities of the attack. Add to that no body found? Anderson is going to go digging, contact some spies, and discover Project Lazarus.

But of course getting close, and finding specifics would be difficult. Gonna need someone in Cerberus that Shepherd, if they're really them, is going to trust on the spot.

And oh look at that, Joker is temporarily grounded for psych evals. Perfect.

Tl;dr: Anderson pulled strings to get Joker permenantly grounded so his "turn" to Cerberus looked more legit. Joker played his part as, well, a snarky pilot that had quite a few gripes with the Alliance. (Hey, easier to lie when part of its true.) All the pieces came together just as Anderson hoped.

Bonus: Between Joker, Chakwas, and Tali all sending Anderson and Hackett WTF SHEPHERD IS ALIVE messages, it explains how those two find out fast enough to send you emails when you first check your terminal.

[zet-sway]

Spiritual Shrios Summer Fill: Godless

This is a prompt fill for @rosenkow's Spiritual Shrios Summer! Prompts | release | oasis | moan | delirium | pray | sweat | whisper | afterlife | contaminated | skin | worship | incense | godless | petals | taste | nectar | caress | mirage | ripe | sundown | hallucinate | salt | intoxicated | soul | embrace | hunger | wet | adrenaline | breathe |

PROMPT WORD: GODLESS | WORDS: ~1800

Rated: "G" - General Audiences AO3 Link: "The Frozen Sea" Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: The ocean licks at her knees - not to claim her, but to mark her. 'One foot in the grave,' as the human adage goes.

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

Shepard looks forward to being the first one up and awake.

Her cabin is suffocating. There are nights when she appreciates the privacy, but the silence of her isolated quarters makes her insides itch in an uncomfortable way. Just before the common area lighting begins to grow from the dim cadence of the night cycle, she leaves her room and greets the morning, intangible as only time on a starship can be. First she checks on the night crew, then starts coffee for Gardener. Finally, she makes her way down to the shuttle bay for PT. Alone.

It's unexpected when she has a visitor one quiet morning.

"Sere Krios," she says, rising from a deep stretch on the mat.

He smiles warmly, equally as surprised to see another soul at this hour. "Commander, good morning. And please, just Thane if you wouldn't mind."

Thane is the newest member of her crew and they've only spoken twice before. Maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise that he has his daily rituals as well, given his condition. He's dressed simply. Black pants, a sleeveless shirt, his defined, green chest exposed for all the world. Drell and humans share some attractive qualities. He's easy on the eyes.

She's staring, she realizes, and looks away. Thane takes his place on the mat and begins his own warm-up.

Day after day, he joins her, and they build a routine. Together, they begin with stiff, groggy stretches; then there's cardio, sweat, and strength training. Their conversations are light and technical. He respects her silence. She respects his discipline. On leg day, they limp back into the elevator in tandem. If she's lucky, she has time to join him and the crew for breakfast after her shower.

When she's alone, she quietly recalls how the light bends around the contours of his body.

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

He's there as usual when she steps off the elevator and into the shuttle bay. Fully armored, helmet under one arm, weapons holstered, but ready.

"Shepard. No training today?" He rises from his place on the mat where he's been exploring the human practice of yoga, per her suggestion. It suits him. Yoga is all about breathing.

"I was beginning to think you tired of my company."

She gives him a weary smile and shakes her head.

There's a new, abnormal tension between them and by his gaze she knows he feels it too. She likes Thane. She knows hardly a damn thing about him, but he's a comfortable presence, follows orders... doesn't ask intrusive questions. However, she's breaking their routine unexpectedly, and in the moment, his gaze is almost painful.

"Is there something I should know about Alchera?"

Okay, maybe he does ask intrusive questions.

His voice is a hot knife through her muddy thoughts. The detour to Alchera hadn't been on their flight plan, but somehow, he knows. Times like this, his eidetic memory puts her on edge. She asks herself how many other kernels of obscure knowledge are locked away in his mind.

Stepping up to prep the shuttle, she weighs the consequences of lying to his face. Only six people on the ship know where she's going and why, and she doesn't want to talk about it with any of them. The words are too hard to say out loud. This is where I died.

"Alliance HR," she says finally. A partial truth.

His brows rise and his posture straightens just a bit. "Human remains." Fuck if he isn't perceptive, but if he has questions, he keeps them to himself.

She nods once, happy to have stopped this conversation in its tracks. Then she changes the subject.

"PT tomorrow," she offers with a smile. "I can't be lifting without my spotter."

"Of course, Shepard. The pleasure is mine," he responds with an acknowledging nod. She feels bad for interrupting his training as he leaves on the elevator, but she doesn't want to face her team until her task is done.

Let's just get this over with.

Alone with her thoughts, she exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding and starts her pre-flight checklist.

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

It's well past dinner when she comes to him. The doors at his back swish open and she stands quietly inside the threshold. A fistful of clinking metal dangles from her hand and he knows she's come to have the conversation she avoided earlier.

"Did I catch you at a good time?"

"You did," he says smoothly. "Was there something you wanted to discuss?"

She sits across from him and the metal spills from her fist. Dog tags. Twenty of them. Her gaze is fixed on them and she appears shrouded in a fog of thoughts.

"Did you know them?" The question is gentle, he's almost afraid to know the answer.

Shepard takes a deep breath and blinks slowly. "Yeah. They were my crew."

Thane can feel a chill, as though the icy surface of the planet is still clinging to her long after she's left it. "Your ship went down on Alchera?"

She nods.

"...and you were among them."

"Yes."

He realizes now why she brushed off his words earlier. It strikes him as odd that she would bring this to him instead of Garrus, Tali, Joker, or Chakwas. All of them served on that ship with her, although he isn't sure if they were on board during the attack. She chose him for this, maybe because he'd asked, unknowingly, down in the shuttle bay. Regardless, she's here now and he struggles to understand her needs.

Thane refocuses. There's a pile of dog tags before him and each one represents a human life, now in the arms of Kalahira.

"May I read them?"

She glances up at him then, surprised. "Won't you remember them forever?"

"I'd like to."

Her lips twitch just slightly in the most cautious of smiles, and she nods. "Knock yourself out," a quietly uttered and somehow charming human expression.

Thane picks up each tag one by one and passes his eyes over them. Every name, a life extinguished. Stories unfinished. Loved ones mourning for years without closure or a body to bury. Memories percolate in his mind and he pushes them back because now is not the time. For each name, he offers a silent prayer to the goddess for their eternal peace. When he finishes, the tags are a neat horizontal stack before them.

Hands folded, he looks at her. "I don't see your name."

It's less of a question and more of an observation, but she dips one hand into her shirt collar and produces a pair of clinking metal tags. They dangle from a new chain but the metal scorched and scuffed almost to a state of illegibility. One from the Alliance, the other from the Spectres. Her name is heavily embossed into each one.

SHEPARD DECEMBER HUMAN SYSTEMS ALLIANCE

His expression lifts and he smiles, hopeful. "You survived."

Shepard shakes her head. "I was spaced."

"But you must have-"

"No, Thane." Her tone is firm, unwavering. "I was spaced."

Her intense green eyes pierce through him. There's a twinge in her voice that makes his insides clench. "I read the data on Project Lazarus. I died."

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Thane tries to control his features but her assertion shakes the very foundations of his faith. Many had said she died, but he'd always understood it as a metaphor - a near death experience.

He reaches into himself for calm and a memory rises, unbidden. "Jesus and Lazarus, from the Christian bible. '...I am the resurrection and the life.'"

"Kalahira..." he breathes. "Shepard, I didn't know."

She grunts out an ugly, short laugh and tears her eyes from his. "I can't believe you read the bible."

Her words fly past him without acknowledgement. He sees her as though through fogged glass, thoughts spinning. "Kalahira released you from the sea." When the words leave his mouth, they sound like irrefutable truth.

There's silence while she fidgets across from him, and then she asks, "Do humans go to the sea too?"

"We believe all life does."

He has a thought, then. "What do you believe, Shepard?

Her expression is mildly uncomfortable. "Before or after I died?" But then she shakes her head, reconsidering. "The universe is grand enough that maybe it is god's design. But I don't think god gives a damn about us. Agnostic, I guess." Shepard pauses and looks at him, but her eyes are distant. "Maybe I'd like to believe in your sea. Right now it feels easier to accept."

"To bring comfort in dark places is the purpose of spirituality. It does not matter what you believe as long as it brings you peace."

"Some humans would disagree with you."

Aware of the myriad of human religions and their conflicts, he brushes off her statement. "This is my truth. Their opinions don't concern me."

Shepard's gaze is searching, revealing the cracks in her armor, slivers of well-hidden vulnerability. "So I went to the sea. And now I'm back."

"If I am to accept what you say, I can offer no other conclusion." He doesn't ask what she remembers, he knows he might not like the answer.

"Then what am I now? Besides a soggy, undead cyborg?"

Her voice is laced with sarcasm but Thane thinks over her question carefully, aware he will be turning it over in his mind for days to come. Kalahira, Irikah, Siha, the gods and their angels, his lover and confidant, memories and oaths... regrets and comforts.

A heavy veil of epiphany descends on him, awestruck, painfully aware of his mortality, and prickling with a primal, deeply buried fear. Once human and now something in between, she is Commander Shepard, avatar of the Sea, chosen of Kalahira. The ocean licks at her knees not to claim her, but to mark her. 'One foot in the grave,' as the human adage goes.

The fist of tension in his gut calls to mind the image of Irikah's eyes in his scope all those years ago. I thought she was the goddess Arashu. But it's not Arashu who sits before him now, but Kalahira. Her icy breath howls across the inhospitable surface of Alchera, her unfathomable currents gathering those courageous enough to follow her into the abyss. How appropriate that she appeared just as he sought his demise in the Dantius Towers. She will be the one to ferry him into the unknown when they finally breach the relay. He prays she will be merciful.

Placing one hand over hers, Thane squeezes reassuringly. He doesn't linger, the gesture is as much for him as it is for her; he wants to know that she is real, as he finally answers her question.

'Then what am I now?'

"A woman with a purpose so great, the goddess herself answered the galaxy's cry for your return."

[krispydefendorpolice]

The Demon’s Bride (4)

Call out to @vitaliciouscreations for their “Drop of Paradise” story. I’m using the same name Tiān but they came up with it (to best of my knowledge). Another fun read. Anyone interested in me putting up a random maribat recomendation in this part?

On to the story

Beginning Previous Next Masterpost

_________________

Chapter 4

After dropping Mari in front of the hotel she was staying at, where the teacher definitely had not noticed she was missing he fumed, Damian returned to the Bat cave. His father, all three of his brothers, his sister, Alfred and the rest of the extended Bat Clan were waiting.

“You never turned your comm back on,” Bruce commented.

“I needed to speak with Mari before talking to you,” Damian said, passing his father and pulling up files on the Bat computer.

“We had noticed. It would have been nice to know you were alright after she took down Jason the way she did.”

“Hence the reason I left my tracker on instead of disabling it. You knew where I was.”

“Who is this mystery girl the boys are talking about?” Barbara, aka Oracle, asked.

Damian ignored the question while he filtered through the files of the Wayne conference attendees for the school group staying at Mari’s hotel and down to the students on the trip. He pulled up the school picture of Mari and the information they had on her.

“She is a friend from my childhood,” he finally said looking at the information. He saw that her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, her parents on file were listed as Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. So they hadn’t changed it, he thought, disappointed in himself because he never looked.

Damian turned when no one said anything after his declaration. Leaning against the console he waited for their responses.

“Bull shit Demon Spawn. You’ve never mentioned friends other than Jon and the Titans before,” Jason said, “and even then it’s because they are not your friends.”

“I assure you she is,” Damian said.

“Then why is this the first time any of us have ever heard about her?” Dick asked.

“None of you have ever shown a particular interest in my childhood with the League of Assassins before now, so why would I have talked about her to you?” Damian answered with a question of his own.

“Because you bit off our heads every time we asked anything,” Tim argued.

Damian narrowed his eyes, “The last time anyone asked me anything about the League I was 11 years old, had just moved in with a bunch of strangers, and had witnessed my family and my whole life destroyed by a madman. Of course I fucking yelled at you. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t cry, yell or rage about the unfairness of watching my family, my family,” he emphasized, “die because I was with strangers and emotions make you vulnerable and I could not afford any more vulnerabilities with the unknown situation I was in.”

The entire clan was silent during his tirade, and a bit ashamed at what he was revealing to them years afterwards.

“I’m sorry Damian. We should have realized that and asked you how you were handling the changes at the time,” Bruce was the first to apologize.

“So you weren’t just rabid from Mom’s Tender Loving Care?” Jason asked.

“Master Jason,” Alfred chided while the rest of the clan just gave Jason a Really? look.

“In the 10 years I lived with her I probably spent less than two in her actual company,” Damian said. “I don’t think I would have responded well at the time even if you had realized,” he acknowledged Bruce’s apology.

“Can you tell us about her?” Bruce asked.

“I can but there’s a lot to talk about to really understand everything. I’m meeting her tomorrow for her free day, we can come here for dinner. I can give you some of that background information now and she can answer any of the questions about herself that I can’t answer.”

“Alright. So tell us what we need to know.”

“Might I suggest we move this discussion out of the cave and to the parlor where we might be more comfortable while we talk,” Alfred interrupted.

“That sounds like a good idea Alfred,” Dick said.

**************************

They did as Alfred suggested and moved to the sitting room so they could sit comfortably while talking about Damian’s past. They were all aware that before he came to them at the age of 10 he had lived with his mother and grandfather and with the League of Assassins. He had been volatile and reckless even while he was taking up the mantle of Robin and began following the others into the vigilante lifestyle.

But apparently there was more to his actions as a kid than just being a snobbish brat raised to believe he was better than everyone else.

Damian sipped at his cup of Black tea while settling his mind around what he was going to discuss. He had spent the last 7 years trying not to think of the other half of his biological family and believing the rest were dead so that he hadn’t had any other reason to reflect on his youth in the League. But that had obviously been a mistake. If Mari survived did anyone else? Can I get my family back? He wondered to himself while the rest of the clan settled down with their drinks of choice.

Finally everyone was settled. Bruce was the one to set the ball rolling.

“So what should we know?”

“Before I start about what I know,” Damian began turning to Jason, “I need to know more about what you know of the League, Todd.”

Jason raised an eyebrow and looked at him stonily. If Damian was quiet about the League as a kid (lies, he really wasn’t because he was an Al Ghul dammit) then Todd was a monk who had taken a vow of silence (slightly less a lie, he didn’t talk about it but he did rant about what a bitch Talia was). None of the Bats knew much about his time with the League other than he met Talia before returning to Gotham to seek vengeance on the Joker.

“Like what, Demon Spawn?” Jason asked.

“Well, first, did you have a designation?”

“A what?”

“That’s a no then. Consider yourself lucky, or not, since you were one of mother’s various pet projects then.”

“Damian,” Dick warned as Damian still had a tendency to be very blunt, to the point of being abrasive, when talking about other’s trauma’s.

Damian frowned before nodding in acknowledgement of the warning and in apology for his tone.

“I suppose the first thing you should know is that the League of Assassins is only about two hundred years old, while Tiān the city from which it was established is thousand of years old. Grandfather found it years ago and started to recruit certain prized and influential citizens and families into following him. Eventually the majority of the city were members of his cult and doing his bidding. We can get more into why the League as its own city is important tomorrow.

“Now, since the League is a cult and it was born out of an independent city how has it maintained it’s membership for so long? And I assure you it wasn’t because grandfather shared the secret of the Lazarus Pits with anyone” he asked.

“They recruited new members,” Dick answered with a shrug.

Damian gave him his own Really? look. “Recruits only account for about 25% of the new trainees and they are usually older teens and young adults. The people that are disenfranchised from the society outside of the League. Individuals with knowledge of the world outside shaped by influences from outside and not by Ras Al Ghul,” Damian said. “I was one of 79 children born in my year group. I was not raised by Talia no matter how she spins it. Despite having a personal bodyguard, private tutors and a nursemaid because I was an Al Ghul heir, I was raised with the other children my age in the al’akadimia*.”

“Talia didn’t raise you?” Barbara asked.

“She oversaw my training, instruction and education which seems to be her impression of parenting, but no, she was not involved in the day to day of my life growing up. I got more of that with Father in the first few months than I did from her in the entirety of my time with her,” Damian answered.

The Bats were silent as they digested this new piece of information from their youngest.

“In the cave you mentioned losing your family. It sounded like it happened in Slade’s attack. If not Talia, who were you thinking of? The girl?” Tim asked.

*academy- Arabic via Google translate

_________________

So, this chapter f*cked with my head. I was just writing and playing with the story and had to come up with a reason for Damian being such a little shit as a kid. And I threw in the line about him losing his family and moving in with strangers when I had an oh shit moment of enlightenment.

In the Son of Batman, Damian witnessed his grandfathers death. His mother brought him to strangers and essentially dropped him on their doorstep. Then we get into the fact that most likely he was essentially abused growing up (how else do you get a kid that wont show emotions) but they were still his family and yeah...

I try throwing in a flippant reason but really it kinda sounds like a canon reason too.

I had never thought about why canon Damian was the way he was especially in that first movie and now my head hurts. I’m curious if anyone else has ever given that a thought or if you’re just now having that oh shit reaction?

Taglist: I’m so happy so many are enjoying it. I’m trying to get everyone but if I miss you I’m sorry but it’s not intentional. Also, I appreciate the comments but unless you ask I won’t tag you so if you’ve commented and not been tagged it’s cuz you didn’t ask or because I overlooked it trying to find everyone who’s asking to be tagged. And I’m going to ask that you message me since I’m having trouble finding all the asks in the comments. Thank you.

And thank you all!

@ozmav @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @inevitableenquere @zebrabaker @poshplumcot @tog84 @luciferge @sonif50 @ravennightingaleandavatempus @northernbluetongue @actual-human-disaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @aarushi-03 @bluerosette23 @g-arya @moonyloonyx @fertileleaf @shreky-boi @thanks-captain-obvious @panda3506 @hinata3487 @thequestionablyhuman @dontgiveaflyinflip @dast218 @chocolatecatstheron @asianfrustration13 @slytherinsheashire @weird-pale-blonde-person @yin-390 @mycupisbroken @vixen-uchiha @kuroko26 @autisticlinx @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mariae2900 @zalladane @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @tbehartoo @novicevoice @violatiger8 @thebookish3lf @fandomkitty8 @redscarlet95 @gingersnapnoir @chewbaccaatemythoughts

[actuallykiwi]

Phoenix

Fan-written Mass Effect 3 Epilogue

The Reapers are destroyed. The galaxy knows peace once more. Mostly. Amid the crashed ruins of the Citadel, the “Hero of the Galaxy”, Jane Shepard, lies barely alive. It takes a keen eye from one team of paramedics to find her broken body. The galaxy was saved, but now it’s Shepard’s turn once more. 

So many bodies. So much debris. The next four or five generations would be seeing the scars of the Reaper War. Clean-up had only been going on for about 48 hours. Most of the Citadel ended up in the ocean, but that still left a lot of it on the shore. “Shore” being 1/3 of Manhattan. The rest of it was reported flying back down on London.

Evening was falling. Dawson and his team of paramedics were part of the New York Search & Rescue (NYSR) squad, scouring any and every part of the Citadel debris that landed in New York. They were looking for anything or anyone they could salvage, but so far, no signs of life had been detected. And the damage the explosion had done, the damage the Reapers did to the citizens of the Citadel... they would all have mental scars for the rest of their lives. Dawson’s team only had 45 minutes left until they had to call it a day. The hardest part of the job was finding and identifying every single body they found. And today they found... less than yesterday, but a staggering, heart-wrenching number nonetheless. 

Dawson, stone-faced as usual, helped his teammate load another poor asari onto the shuttle before climbing over the debris back to where he was. He wanted to leave so bad. But someone had to do this job. He sighed as he turned off his flashlight and sat on jagged metal slab, head in his hands. 

It was only when he sat completely still that he heard it. 

He couldn’t be imagining it. He shot up and stood quietly. There, ever-so-quietly to his left, he could hear it. 

Breathing. 

Raspy, soft, labored breathing. Someone was still alive. 

Dawson almost dropped his flashlight to turn it on, but quickly and carefully tread to the source. “I’ve got a live one over here!” His heart was racing as he reached the dark figure and his teammates began to trek over to him. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the N7 tag, bloody and crumpled, but there. The flashlight glided over their hardly-moving torso, over the various scars and broken bones, the bloody, singed black hair, and to the nearly-mangled face of none other than... 

“OH MY GOD! IT’S COMMANDER SHEPARD!!!!”

And then chaos. Every team that was close enough to hear him immediately rushed to his position. Dawson and a few other men began clearing the rubble around her body as carefully as possible. At least a dozen paramedics stood by ready for action. 

“We need as much medi-gel as we can spare over here, NOW!” 

“Oh my God, Shepard’s still alive?!” 

“Get anyone that worked on the Lazarus project in an OR!”

“Has anyone been able to reach the Normandy crew yet?!” 

Shepard’s unconscious body was delicately placed on a gurney, and a dozen or more tubes were now sticking out of her every which way. They had to move through the debris to the nearest landing zone for the chopper to receive her. From there, it was a short ride to the hospital. 

“You’ll be alright, Commander. Just hang in there!” 

*******************************************

I need more medi-gel in here! That rubble was keeping her from bleeding out!

Voices. They were faint, but she could still hear them clearly. All she could see was white. Then black once more. 

Keep that IV in. She’s gonna be in a hell of a lot of pain whenever she comes to. You mean if she comes to. She will. She’s Commander Shepard, after all, this wouldn’t be the first time she’s beat death. 

She could smell this time. It certainly smelled like a hospital. Then black again. 

Shepard, I’m almost certain you’re immortal at this point. 

That voice. Miranda? It had to be. 

I’m not sure if you can hear me, but you’ve done it again. You’ve cheated death. Though this was a bit different than last time. We don’t have the tools we did in Cerberus, during Lazarus. And I’ll be honest, you’re in... much worse condition this time. You’re an actual miracle if you wake up... But I know you. You will. 

She felt slight pressure on her head. A gentle rub. 

You lucky bastard. 

Blackness. 

This time was a whole host of voices. She could recognize each one distinctly, but still didn’t have the strength to respond.

“-and yet here we are. Here you are. Somehow still kicking. I’m honestly a little scared of you now.” Joker. 

“Now? I always have been! To come back from death once was scary enough, but now? To still be alive after all that?? Shepard, I could almost worship you.” Laughter from sweet Tali. 

“I don’t know about worship, but I definitely believe you’re immortal, or close to it.” Kaiden. 

“I’m just glad you are still alive, even though you’re not with us.” Liara. 

“Alright, her pulse is rising, give her her space.” Dr. Chakwas. And from the distance, she must have been standing right outside the door. A few more people said things, complained, pats on the shoulder, but began to fade away. 

But someone was missing. Whose voice was she missing? She wanted to hear it, to- 

And then a hand was around hers. Gently on her cheek. And that voice, right above her... 

“Come back to us, soon. We miss you. I miss you... It’s empty without you here.” Garrus. Garrus Vakarian. Her pulse slowed back down to normal and she could feel herself breathe with relief. She heard him chuckle. “That’s my girl. Keep breathing, and open those pretty eyes soon.” She felt him kiss her forehead. 

She was beginning to fade out again, but she could just make out him asking Chakwas if he could stay. She argued, stating “if he did, they would all want to”, but she begrudgingly accepted. She felt his hand around hers again, and then everything went quiet. 

**************************************

It was silent, minus the beeping of the heart monitor. Steady. That’s good. It took effort, but she moved. A twitch of the hand. A nudge of the shoulder. Face squinting. And hoo-boy, she was sore. A little grunt came from inside her, and for the first time in God knows how long, her blue eyes welcomed the pale ceiling. She could feel the cold nightgown across her torso, which was also strangely freezing. It was a slow process to move anything. At first it was just her eyes, which glimpsed the ceiling, window to her left, monitor to her right, and monitor on the wall, displaying her name, condition, date, etc. 

Then, her head, moving to fully look at everything, including her turian boyfriend sleeping soundly on the chair. She grunted again, trying to move her arms and legs, and found it more difficult to move her whole left side. She swallowed, painfully, and mustered what little strength she had to call his name. 

“G-Garrus...” 

Her voice was raspy and quiet, but audible. He snorted and slowly woke up. He looked over at her. She stared sleepily back, and smiled as big as she could manage. “Hi...” 

“JANE!” With his height, he was over to her in one bound, hugging her as gently yet as tightly as he could. She grunted and laughed, groaning from pain. “I knew you’d be back, nothing can keep you down. God, I missed you!” 

“I.. missed you too.” She whispered, forcing her right arm to hug him back. He released her and held her hand as he sat by her. It was only when his other hand wiped her cheek did she realize she cried a little. From joy or pain, she couldn’t tell, but she was happy to see him, too. 

“I know it’s probably difficult to talk, so I’ll answer your questions before you ask. Yes, the galaxy is safe. You did it. The Reapers are destroyed. But also so is most synthetic life. I say most because, it was all, but the quarians managed to bring the geth back online, which the quarians are doing great by the way, and we’re working on bringing EDI back. She’s a bit... different from the geth, a bit more complicated, but we got some experts to look at her and she’ll be back soon. Like you.” He smiled at her. “The Citadel was destroyed though, as well as all those who didn’t evacuate in time. A good percentage did, but there’s still so many casualties... Most of it landed in the ocean, then some in London, and the rest here, in New York. You’re in a hospital in New York, by the way. Miranda, Chakwas, and a few other professionals and people from the Lazarus project we could find fixed you up as best as they could. Which, by the way, uh... was... most, of you.” 

Garrus reached for her left arm and lifted it up for her. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to be looking at metal. She flexed her new metal fingers, testing it out, and found that it only felt a little heavier than normal, but otherwise fine. “Your whole left body was... in bad shape. Well, you had no arm or leg, and a chunk of your side was chiseled, but the best smiths on this side of the universe got you replacements real quick. I didn’t even have to use my bad boy charm to convince them to give them to you.” They both chuckled. 

Shepard shuffled her left leg a bit. Sure enough, it was slightly heavier too. That would also explain why her side was freezing; it was metal. “You also have several broken bones, but I’ll let Chakwas explain all that.” 

He cupped her cheek again and sighed. “I’m glad you’re back. I’m buying you a whole bar worth of drinks once we get out of here.” She grinned. “I’ll take you up on that...” He laughed, and leaned down to kiss her. Her metal arm draped around his shoulders and their hands tightened together. 

A moment after pulling apart, Dr. Chakwas softly knocked on the wall and approached. “Glad to see you’re awake, Commander. We missed you.” Chakwas gave her a quick, soft hug. After their greeting, she gave her a rundown of all her injuries. Thankfully, most injuries were on the outside, including: a new arm, leg, and a few new ribs, multiple permanent scars on her face and torso, skull fractures, and her other leg broken. Inside, slight internal bleeding, which surprisingly was already healed. 

“You were found about 2 months ago, and I suppose you just awoke today. In terms of your new synthetic attachments, your entire left side of your body...” She cleared her throat and read from a tablet. “Your omni-tool is hardwired into your arm, so you can now even activate it without it your armor. It also comes with a hidden blade in both your arm and leg, so the omni-blade is no longer necessary, but there just in case. Your middle finger has a laser now, though I’m sure you can guess who chose that location in design.” She rolled her eyes. Garrus chuckled. “There’s also a long list of other goodies in your synthetic attachments that I’m sure you’re just dying to have me read off to you, but I’ll send it to your omni-tool because I have no desire to do so, and I need to do a quick physical before-” 

“SHEPARD!!!!”

“-that.” 

The entire Normandy crew had their commander surrounded, and were showering her in tears and welcomes and hugs and jabs and... you get the picture. It was emotional. 

The whole next month was like that. Garrus and Shepard had a movie night that ended as... passionately as it could. Joker compared notes about the usefulness of Shepard’s legs to his now. Liara, Tali, and Miranda had something like a tea party with her, only it was wine. So, a wine party. Samantha had a heart-to-heart with her. Joker brought a newly-revived EDI with him, and they agreed to go on a double date soon. Jack played with Shepard’s middle finger laser and discovered the arm came with minor biotic capabilities. She broke the monitor on the wall. 

Eventually, Shepard started taking physical therapy, but to be safe, they kept her in a wheelchair. 

She rolled out to the hospital balcony overlooking the city, and took a deep breath. It was her first time seeing the destruction herself. It was covered in bulldozers and other cleaning machines by this point, and several hundred people were packing up for the day. Even from here she could see the more massive pieces of the Citadel sticking out of the ocean. How she survived that, she would never know. 

“Gonna miss that place, for sure. Especially my favorite spot.” Garrus walked up beside her, arm draped behind her. 

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” “Nope.” They both laughed. 

She sighed. “...Honestly, I’ll miss it, too. But I’m just glad this is all over. What was it you said? You wanted to retire someplace tropical, or something?” He nodded. “Yep. With you, of course. We’ll still adopt a little krogan, if you want.” 

“We could adopt Grunt.” She suggested. There was a pause. Then they both burst out laughing. 

“I know I’ve said it a million times by now, but God, I missed you, Shepard.” 

“Oh, you’re back to calling me Shepard, now? I was convinced you didn’t know my first name for the longest time.” 

He shrugged. “I know what it is, but I figured I’d call you that a bit longer before i change it.” 

“Change it?” 

“Yeah. I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Jane Vakarian’.” He looked at her and smiled warmly. “What do you think?” 

Jane reached for his hand and returned the smile. “Y’know, I really like the sound of that.” 

The End

[miceenscene]

N7 Month - Day 6

Reunion

G- If your face is feeling up to it, meet me in Afterlife. I’ll buy you a drink. -S

The overwhelming irony of what he was doing was not lost on Garrus as he walked into Afterlife (the bar) to meet up with Shepard (somehow alive… again). His face still dully throbbed with pain, understandable given it met a rocket within the last week. The pain wasn’t unmanageable, but it was certainly unpleasant. The loud music pulsing through the club seemed to be in time with the beats in his head.

Shepard was sitting at the far end of the bar. She’d even saved him a seat just like he always thought she would if he got the chance to meet her in the actual afterlife. He sat down next to her; his knee accidentally brushed hers in the process.

He ordered and as the bartender walked away she asked, “Chakwas say how long till your face heals?”

“She said it’ll be a couple months, maybe even over a year before I can take the bandage off.”

Shepard gave a low whistle.

“But she cleared me for active duty starting next week.”

Shepard nodded. She shot back the rest of her glass, making Garrus’ throat burn in sympathy. But she didn’t react. She obviously had something on her mind. Some purpose to drag the two of them off the ship.

The bartender returned with his drink and another for Shepard. Garrus sipped and looked around. In all his time on Omega, he’d never managed to get into the upper room of Afterlife. Not that it was that much different or really any better than the lower room. He blinked in surprise when he realized that he could see Aria from where they were sitting. She was standing in a booth on the level above, surveying her kingdom and looking very pleased with herself. She looked down to Shepard and then she nodded at Garrus. He ducked his head. No sense drawing extra attention.

Shepard, however, hadn’t appeared to notice. She was idly twirling the straw from her drink between finger and thumb with a far away look.

“Shepard?” Garrus asked. 

She blinked a few times and her eyes focused on him. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a bit.”

He couldn’t say he was the biggest fan of that phrase, but he pushed past it.

“So not that I don’t enjoy coming to a club where I’m a wanted man, but was there a reason we needed to come here? Joker said there’s a bar on the Normandy now.”

“The Normandy is bugged.”

“What? Where?”

She shook her head and shrugged. “There’s a few places I know for certain, but honestly, it could be everywhere. I wanted to talk with you where I knew the Illusive Man couldn’t hear.”

Garrus nodded and made a mental note to sweep the battery as soon as they returned to the Normandy.

“Out of curiosity, what was your plan back on the balcony?” she asked, taking a sip. “Not that I don’t admire the guts it took to goad the gangs into a stand off… but what was your exit strategy?”

“Ah.” He swirled the green liquid in the glass and considered how to answer. “It was… It was this. I was going to meet you for a drink.”

She frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. Then it clicked. He expected to get some sort of disapproving glare, but instead she chuckled once.

“You know there are other tactical options besides Blaze of Glory sometimes?” 

A hollow laugh rumbled through his chest. “If you have suggestions, I’m open. I’d love to know what the great Commander Shepard would do if she was up in a balcony for five days.” 

She shook her head. “Commander Shepard wouldn’t have gotten stuck up there in the first place.” She grinned sarcastically. “She’s very smart, I’m told. Courageous.”

“Hmm. And humble.”

“That too.” 

This was good. This felt like it should, like he remembered. The banter flowed back and forth between them as natural as the tides, rehashing stories of missions gone almost wrong.

“Thank the Spirits Wrex was there to carry your almost corpse back to the Mako.”

“How was I supposed to know that you can’t fight a Thresher Maw on foot?”

“From the size of it, Shepard.”

But little things were out of place. Her laugh was harsher. Her quips were sharper. Her eyes never seemed to be engaged with the conversation. He didn’t want to notice. It’d be so much easier to just pretend that everything was the same, to just settle into this unexpected reunion and be grateful that the old times were back again. But after a few drinks he finally worked up the courage to ask, “So how has it been working for Cerberus?” 

She didn’t answer right away. Her jaw moved side to side.

“It’s…” She huffed a sigh. “We’ve barely begun this Collector fight and everything’s already more complicated. When we took down Sovereign I was technically juggling the Alliance and the Council, but I felt like I could at least trust them both.

“With Cerberus… I know there’s an ulterior motive. There has to be. He and Miranda can spout their lines about elevating humanity all they want, but I know that they want me for something. Something useful for them. They wouldn’t have spent all the money on rebuilding me and the Normandy without some sort of point. I just haven’t figured out what yet.”

“How did they rebuild you?” Garrus asked.

“You’d have to ask Miranda for specifics. Most I know is it took two years and several billion credits, but in their eyes The Lazarus Project was a success.” She finished her drink and pushed it forward on the bar. “I guess in a way it was.”

 He noticed that there were dark half-circles under her eyes. He wasn’t sure if they were significant, but they gave him another reason for concern anyway.

“Listen,” she continued, “I know we saved you from almost certain death and then patched you back up, but things aren’t like they used to be. Are you still interested in joining my team again?”

“I’m almost insulted that you feel you have to ask.” He smiled a little at her, hoping to see it returned. But she just nodded.

“Then I have a favor to ask you,” she said, solemnly.

“Anything.”

“I need you to be honest with me.” He almost made a joke, but the look on her face made him keep his mouth shut. “I need to know that there is someone on my team that I can trust implicitly. You’ve been that person before, but I need to know explicitly that I can now.”

Her eyes were focused on him with burning intensity. 

He nodded. “Of course. ...Anything I should watch out for?”

She hesitated for a second. “Miranda says that they put me back together without making any changes. She says there’s not a control chip in my head…” she trailed off, her jaw clenched, the muscles in her arms tightened.

“You don’t believe them,” he finished for her.

“Would you?” He had to shake his head no. “I hope that time will prove me wrong. But if I’m not…” She didn’t finish her sentence. He could practically see the weight of the galaxy’s expectations settled on her. “I need you to watch my back, even from myself.”

“I will, Shepard. I promise.”

She relaxed and turned back to look at the bar top. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. The loud thumping base of the music filling the lack of conversation.

He looked down at her after a minute. “Can I ask a favor in return?”  

She looked up at him. “Anything.”

“I’d like you to be honest with me too.”

She sat up a little straighter. But then nodded. “Of course.”

Permission granted, he leaned in closer and covered her hand with his. The question that had been burning on his tongue since the moment he first saw her on the balcony could finally be asked. “Shepard, are you okay?” 

From the way she looked at him, he’d obviously caught her off guard. 

“You can tell?” He barely heard her above the noise of the club and the expression on her face--like an animal that knew it’d been caught.

“It’s not obvious, if that’s what’s worrying you,” he assured her. He just knew her too well to not see all the small signs pointing to something much bigger. Her apprehension eased off a bit, but she didn’t fully relax. “But are you okay?”

He studied her face. She looked from him down to his hand. He almost removed it but, surprisingly, she turned her arm and took his hand in hers. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Her eyes glanced up to meet his. It took him a moment to recognize the expression, he had seen it so few times from her. It was fear. “They woke me up early because the station was under attack. But I… I don’t think I was done. I don’t think I’m all the way here.”

As near as he could tell, Shepard had always been honest with the team, with him. As honest as any military leader could be. But this was more than just honesty. This was a vulnerability that he never expected to see. A reminder that she was just as mortal as he. He wondered just how few people got to see the cracks in her armor like this. It took his breath away.

“It’s not that I just look a little different, I feel different,” she continued in the same small voice. “I feel… numb. It’s like I’m trying to fight through a fog just to care about the simplest things. 

“Cerberus did what they set out to do. They raised a Shepard from the dead. One that can walk and talk and shoot a gun. Would they even care if they didn’t raise Jane?” She lowered her head and sighed. “Would anyone?”

“I would,” he breathed. 

She looked up at him with an unfathomable expression for a minute. 

“I would care,” he repeated in a stronger voice.

“You would,” she echoed quietly, looking down at their hands.

She brought her other hand over and covered his. Her thumb idly ran over the tough skin on the back of his hand. Everything else around him besides her dimmed. For a few minutes neither of them spoke, just remained in a quiet reminder that the other was still beside them. He would have lingered in that thought for the rest of the night if she’d let him.

She then exhaled and looked back up at him. “Thank you, Garrus.” She smiled gently and he was gratified to see that it reached her eyes. 

Unfortunately, the delicate moment between them was smashed when the bartender approached and set two drinks down in front of them.

“We didn’t order anything,” Garrus growled, his subvocals betraying his annoyance at being interrupted. Shepard pulled her hands back and frowned down at the drinks.

“What are these?” She asked.

“Dextro and levo Angel’s Delights.” The bartender gestured to the two glasses. “Compliments of Aria.” 

They both turned to her balcony and saw Aria. She raised her glass to them. Shepard looked quickly down at the glasses then back to Garrus. Angel’s Delights… very subtle, Aria. He suddenly didn’t feel quite as safe as he had moments ago.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” Shepard said, standing up quickly. Garrus glanced back up at the balcony. A grin spread across Aria’s face, exposing too many teeth for comfort. He managed to toss a scowl in her direction before he followed Shepard out of Afterlife.

Later that night, he was back in the battery. Shepard had been right, of course. Garrus found several bugs in this small room alone. Hopefully he’d gotten them all. He wasn’t sure whether he should destroy them or not so they sat in a neat little pile on the crate in the corner, underneath a folded blanket.

But of all the things they’d talked about, he hoped that her instincts were wrong about at least a few. If she was compromised--he stopped himself dead in his tracks. There was no need to go down that road until it was necessary. Until then, he’d follow Shepard into the abyss if she asked him to. 

Though, he quietly admitted to himself, he would rather just see her smile a real smile again. Make her face turn pink with laughter. Hold her hand and talk of old times.

He stopped. He harshly rubbed the back of his hand and forced himself to stop thinking. Things were already complicated enough in their lives. There was no need to bring any of that into what they had. He would have her six and she would have his. And that would be enough. It would have to be.

Ao3 Version

[littlewatty]

MERweek Day 6

Break My Heart

// sorry about the melodramatic attitude of the last A/N. Yesterday was a bad day, and I wasn’t feeling the writing. Trying again with Day 6. Better mood, better writing. Plus, its angst. It’s a lot longer than my prompts have been lately.

AO3 link

No matter the strength of the firepower utilized by the Alliance, as hard as they may hit, it didn’t seem like any damage was being done to the collector ship. The heaviest artillery on any backwater planet, and it was useless. Balls of fire rained down from the exterior, pitting the colony with small craters as the ship prepared to leave, metal rings rotating and shifting.

“They’re pulling out!”

The engine fired, heat from its exhaust washing over the colony and all that were nearby. Acres of land below the ship burned to ash. Any who would have been in the immediate zone would have been reduced to smoldering piles. All Rita could do was watch. Horizon was lost.

Rita vented her frustration, throwing her spent clip into the dirt. Another failure on her record. The things that would be done to those colonists made her stomach turn. Garrus put a hand on her shoulder, doing what he could, but knowing it wasn’t much. “There’s no reason to stay, Shepard. Most of the colonists are on board. They got what they came for.”

“No! Don’t let them get away!” The mechanic came sprinting out from behind the crates, chasing after the ship as it left atmosphere. A futile effort.

“Moreau, track that ship’s trajectory, I want to know where it’s going.” It wouldn’t make any difference, she knew that, they all knew that, but it was better than nothing. There was a chance Ashley was on that ship, someone she knew, someone she promised would never meet a fate like so many others. “Believe it or not, I’m just as invested in this colony as you. There was nothing we could do, but we will change that.”

It wasn’t enough of a promise. The anger he expressed towards the collectors turned on her. “Half the colony’s in there! They took Egan, and Sam, and... and Lilith! Do something!”

“We did what we could,” Garrus stepped up, taking some of the heat. “Our fight doesn’t stop here. Right, Shepard?”

The name drop seemed to pull a response from the mechanic. And not a good one. His eyes narrowed and he spat at the ground. The hate he held for the Alliance now extended to her and her team. “Shepard… Wait. I know that name. Sure, I remember you. Some kind of big Alliance hero.”

“Commander Shepard,” a familiar voice came from another part of the courtyard from behind the crates. “Captain of the Normandy. First human Spectre. Savior of the Citadel.” Ash. Rita could barely believe it. It had been so long since they’d seen each other - even longer for Ashley while Shepard had been either dead or in a medically induced coma during the Lazarus project. “You’re in the presence of a God, Delan. Back from the dead.”

“All the good people we lost, and you get left behind. Figures.”

Enough of this. The first time she’s seen Ashley since the SR1 was destroyed, and she was being insulted. “Can it, mechanic,” Rita snapped at him.

“Screw this, I’m done with you Alliance types.”

She didn’t even bother to watch as he left, but Garrus and Grunt did. Her attention was focused on Ash, a friend lost, now found. But she wasn’t Alliance anymore, not like Ash was, making this reunion sour. Rita extended a hand, relieved when the other shook it civilly.

“I thought you were dead, Commander. We all did.” Her tone hurt. There was a lot yet unsaid. Better to get it out in the open. Hash it out now. Don’t let it fester.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, something’s wrong. I spent the past two years believing you were dead. I would have followed you anywhere, Commander! I thought you were gone, I…” Ashley’s voice cracked, stepping back as she looked away. Hard as it was to listen to, as much as Rita would have wanted to explain herself, she knew that Ash had to get it all out. They both needed to hear what she had to say. “You were more than our Commander, you were a friend. Why didn’t you try to contact me? Why… didn’t you let me know you were alive?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Ash. I was dead. The last two years I was basically in a coma while I was… rebuilt by Cerberus.”

And then it all fell apart. Ashley’s face hardened. Her form was stiff as she backed away. Suddenly that look she recognized from the first days on the SR1, when Ash looked at the aliens with such disgust and distrust, was now turned on her. A friend. Or rather… someone who used to be. “You’re… with Cerberus now? Garrus too? I can’t believe the reports were right...”

Rita took half a step towards her, meaning to say something, but thought better of it.

“Reports? You mean, you already knew?”

“Alliance intel said that Cerberus could be behind our missing colonies. Got a tip that this one could be the next one to get hit. I went to Anderson, but he wouldn’t talk. But there were rumors that you weren’t dead. Worse… that you were working with the enemy.”

“Listen, Ash…”

The other woman’s hand went to the pistol on her hip. She didn’t draw it against her, but she fingered the release. Rita realized they were standing on opposite sides of the fence now. There was a good chance this could come to blows. Even if it didn’t, things between her and Ashley were different now. She was losing a friend. One of the only friends she thought she had left.

“Ash. I am my own person. You know that. Cerberus is a means to an end. They gave me back the Normandy. I don’t answer to them.”

Disdain colored her features, anger tinted her voice, and she pointed a finger in Rita’s face. “Do you really believe that, or is that what Cerberus wants you to think? I wanted to believe that you were alive, I just… I never expected anything like this. You’ve turned your back on everything we stood for.” Her lips curled in the kind of anger that punched holes through ablative ceramic easier than a Black Widow.

“You know who I am, Ash, please just believe me.” It was a desperate attempt. All Rita wanted right now was to have her old team back together. The people she cared about fighting by her side. There was no one she trusted more than her team; Joker, Garrus, Ashley, Tali, Wrex. Kaidan. She’d already lost one, now she was losing the other. The team she had from the start. The team that started everything. “The Collectors are targeting our colonies. I am trying to stop them. If not for Cerberus, I wouldn’t be here to stop them!”

“I’d like to believe you Shepard, but I don’t trust Cerberus. If you trust them, then I can’t trust you. What did they do to the Commander Shepard I knew? What if they’re behind it? What if they’re working with the Collector’s?”

Garrus stepped in the middle of the two women before Rita snapped, the movement making Ashley draw her gun and point it at them both. People she used to trust. People she used to fight side by side with. Her past distrust of aliens, and her deep seated hatred for Cerberus (not that she could blame her), had pit their once ally against them. Garrus’ hands went up, but he didn’t step away. “Damnit, Williams, you’re so focused on Cerberus that you’re ignoring the real threat.”

“Or maybe you feel like you owe Cerberus because they saved you. Maybe it’s you. I still know where my loyalties lie. I’m an Alliance soldier. It’s in my blood.” Every word wounded Rita. Each syllable laced with hatred tore a little bit more of her away. Without even trying, she had failed Ashley. This was almost worse than seeing her friend die. This was a personal death. This was a choice to leave Shepard, and everything she was trying to do, behind.

Before she could walk away, Rita stepped forward. “Please, Ash. Give it a chance. Give me a chance to show you that I haven’t changed. It will be like old times.”

“No, it won’t. I’m no friend of aliens, but Cerberus has a history of being extremist. I’ll never work for a group like that.” A step backwards punctuated each word. She was walking away from their past, their friendship, the chance to rebuild the team they used to have.

After everything they’d been through, she couldn’t settle with this. Ashley wasn’t listening. She wasn’t believing in her friend. “Damnit, Ash!” Rita snapped, “stop being so goddamn hard headed! Our colonies are being taken by these monsters while you sit here and argue with me over who is right or wrong! The Council isn’t doing anything, so I am! What about you? What about the Alliance? Are you just going to sit on your hands while someone behind a desk decides who to try and save?”

Her words stopped Ash from leaving, but they didn’t have a kind response either. “Look who’s talking! You’re just a puppet for Cerberus. They’ve got their slimy claws in your head, telling you where to go, and you can’t even see it. It’s disappointing, really.”

“Shepard-” Garrus tried to intervene, but she shoved him aside.

“And so you’re going to let the politicians decide what life is worth saving? That is the disappointment here. Where is the Gunnery Chief Williams that said ‘screw it’ to the Alliance when they grounded the Normandy before Ilos, huh?”

“Because Saren was a threat!”

“The Collectors are a threat!”

“Yeah, they are, and so is Cerberus. Don’t you remember the things we stopped them from doing? They lured Alliance soldiers into Thresher Maw nests. Repeatedly. They experimented on the colonists of Feros! An experiment you stopped!”

Rita nearly pulled her hair out in frustration. Bringing these old memories back, remembering the good they once did together, only made this situation all the more trying. “I know that, Ash! I remember every single one of those missions. But right now, Cerberus are the only ones willing to tackle the Collectors and the Reapers. They’re the only ones acknowledging what’s going on!”

Ashley shook her head, lip twisted in anger, and her hand still grasping her pistol tightly. Behind Rita, Grunt was tense, ready to charge if the other woman lifted her gun again. All she could o was pray that it wouldn’t come to a head.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not the Rita Shepard I knew. She never would have stood by and defended Cerberus. I’m reporting back to the Citadel. I’ll let them decide if they believe your story, because I sure as hell don’t.” Ashley spit at the ground as she turned to leave, holstering her pistol with such seething anger that the team could feel it even as she walked away.

Garrus turned around, looking at Rita with such pain, it almost bordered on pity. They had all been friends once. A long time ago. Not it was all gone, turned to dust, wasted breath and wasted effort. “It’ll be okay, Rita,” he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

It was cold, but she shrugged off his hand, and turned to call the Normandy in. “Moreau, send down a shuttle to pick us up. I’m sick of this planet.”

[meboysinblue]

One of my Mass Effect Headcanon

My Shepard did not take only one family photo in ME3. My headcanon is that throughout the series she adimately found a moment’s time to take individual and group photos. Shepard wasn’t an overly sentimental person, but when it came to her crew she had no illusion just how much she considered them family, especially after Akuze. This is gonna be long. But I have no regrets.

Mass Effect 1: 3 pictures. 

The first is after Noveria. They stop for shore leave, drinks and time to unwind while the Normandy receives some maintenance. They hit the town, Shepard paying for drinks and dinner as she watches them all bond. They’re lounging at a rather laidback bar, crowding themselves onto multiple chairs and couches. The human crew talking with Tali and Garrus. Questions geared towards their two dextro-companions. Wrex leans against the wall, talking to Ashley about weaponry, Kaiden chiming in with a question here or their about battle stories. Before any of them notice Shepard’s roped in a bar tender and flops herself down onto Tali and Garrus’s lap, throwing her arms around their necks as the human crew laugh.

The second is taken before Virmire. Something in Shepard’s gut urges her to get the crew together, to let loose before reaching Virmire. A game of poker, mediocre rations, a few drinks and multi-cultural party games later they’re crowding themselves in the mess. More than a little tipsy and leaning on each other to keep those a little too wobbly on their feet. Shepard is in the center practically crushed between Wrex and Garrus.

The third is taken after the Citadel. They’re all finally out of the med bay, repairs are steadily making progress on the Citadel and everyone is getting ready to ship off in the morning. They get together for one last farewell before Tali goes back to the flotilla and Garrus returns to C-sec. Holed up on the Normandy, they’re stocked up on liquor and food. Taking a moment to honor Kaiden and gather together once more for a group photo before the festivities. Shepard squashes herself in between Garrus and Tali again, a suspicious shine in her eyes when the shutter clicks.

Mass Effect 2: 4 pictures

The first picture is after getting back from recruiting Thane. Deciding her old crew, new crew, and cerberus affiliates need to let loose and get along, Shepard takes them all out on Illium for drinks. Much like in ME1 she finds the perfect moment to take a picture. Liara has joined them for the night, sitting near the end of the couch with Miranda and Jacob they chat about the lazarus project and a few other things.  Tali is sitting with the engineers in a cluster of chairs, talking about the Normandy, EDI, and specs. Garrus, Zaeed, and Thane sit near the middle talking about omega, the gangs, and rifles from what Shepard has heard so far. Everyone is beginning to get into the swing of it after more than a few drinks. It’s perfect. Shepard wrangles a server and flops herself in between Garrus and Thane, grinning up at Garrus when he looks down at her with a knowing smile (flair of the mandibles).

The second and third pictures are after the derelict reaper. Shepard has taken them back to Illium, fuming at the Illusive Man’s betrayal. While EDI scans the IFF she takes the rest of the crew out on the town once more. Their bond closer than the Illusive Man anticipated after Shepard jumped around the Milky Way for her crew. A few of the crew a little irritated with Shepard herself as she recklessly laid cover fire while the ground team ran to the Normandy. But after a few drinks, a quick round of rough housing, and full bellies chased with more drinks they find themselves back in the bar from before. This time the picture is a little more composed than the previous pics. Shepard snags a bartender as the crew gets settled. A few too many drinks leads to closer pressed bodies and familiar talons catching her waist and pulling her into a certain Turian’s lap. The rest of the crew laughs, Shepard awkwardly seated on Garrus’s knee while steadying herself on Thane’s. The bartender snaps one then, a moment of lightheartedness. But Shepard insists on one more, cheeks and ears flushed with embarrassment and liquor. She settles herself  upfront between Tali and Jack this time, ears and cheeks still flushed.

The fourth picture is taken on the Citadel after the jump through the Omega-4 relay. Shepard drags the team and most of the crew who survived. Shepard herself is nursing some wounds still however most of her crew is patched up and better off than her. She watches as they drink, dance, and cement the fact that they did it, that they survived and are alive. Shepard’s eyes for the most part are on Garrus as he and Tali dance. Their eyes meet for a moment and before Shepard realizes it, everyone is crowding together on the couch with her, Garrus pressed into her side, Kasumi on her other side. Thane comes over with a server in tow and stands behind her with Tali, Jack, and Grunt.

Mass Effect 3: 3 pictures

Shepard only has one photo op, the chaos of the war leaves everything too tense and difficult to get everyone together before or afterwards. However when she first reunites with everyone she manages to snap a picture of just her and them. Something she does because she needs proof. Proof they were here with her. She has them playing on loop, all the pictures she’s taken up until now with even one of them in it. The crew drunkenly reminisce over the photos, telling stories from the original normandy crew to their newer friends. They mourn Thane and celebrate their time with him, they call Shepard out on her driving and dancing. On how she rarely drank when they went out or how she constantly was the last one on the ship because she was too busy staring at someone’s ass. They joke about her and Garrus, about their collective time on the Normandy as a crew. It’s a warm and nostalgic party but tinged with the very real thought hovering in their minds that this could be the last time they’re together. When it comes time to the picture they take two, one that is serious, one for the books. All of them neatly seated, accepting their roles, and duties. 

The second is of them crammed together on Shepard’s couch like the family they are. Drunk and obnoxious they hanging onto one another, laying ontop of each other, or spilling onto the floor. EDI is holding Joker in her lap with care, minding those around her so no one jostles him too roughly. Grunt and Wrex stand behind the back mid headbutt. In the center is Garrus and Shepard, Shepard sitting in his lap as they press their foreheads together. Tali leans drunkenly against Garrus’s should watching them with a hand on her chest and another on Shepard’s knee. Kasumi is leaning against her, smiling at Shepard and Garrus with a hint of wetness on her cheek.

The third picture is one they never thought they would be alive to take. As one of their few sober photos, this one holds an air of seriousness. They’re crowded around Shepard as she sits in a wheelchair. Garrus stands behind her, a hand on her shoulder and her hand on top. Tali stands next to her, holding Shepard’s free hand, her mask seemingly brighter. Shepard has a few fading bruises, but is alive, an N7 patch on her jacket and a “Normandy” tank on. In similar fashion, each of them has some sort of shirt or coat with “Normandy” on the chest. A strip of N7 red and Archangel blue run down their sleeve/side. Colors of the Normandy’s heart. 

[elfyourmother]

i've always wondered what Imani's relationship was like with Ashley. did they get along? would something have developed between them if Ash survived Virmire? how did she and Kaidan cope after she died? how do they feel about it post-Reaper War?

oh man that is a huge and sad can of worms

Imani and Ash were real close. Ash was hesitant to open up to her at first and a bit skittish and standoffish just because her guard is always up on new assignments due to her name. She’s always scared that no one will respect her once they find out she’s one of THOSE Williams. But Imani made it clear in their very first conversation back on the Normandy that she didn’t gaf about what her Grandfather did, and that she considered him a hero for surrendering, that she believes he saved the lives of those colonists by doing so. (I’ve mentioned it once or twice before but being a Mindoiran really really influences Imani’s way of thinking about Shanxi, because she grew up living under a certain amount of fear of attacks that no Earthborn human would ever have, fears which obviously and sadly were vindicated when the batarians hit).

That made Ash relax some and broke down the wall and that was the start of their friendship. Once they got to know each other they realized they had a lot in common. Imani wasn’t super religious before the Lazarus Project (she kept an altar but it was really about maintaining that connection with her lost family), and although I do hc that Ash was a Christian she wasn’t super fundie about it and always treated Imani with respect in their conversations about faith. They had the same taste in crappy action movies and worse beer. They shared a lot of stories about their respective childhoods, growing up in big families with sisters, and bonded a LOT over being colony kids. I mean they did butt heads over Ash’s general attitude of pragmatism/suspicion toward aliens, since Imani was always always about cooperation and humanity not going it alone or only looking out for themselves. But they always disagreed respectfully and tbh Ash began to soften a little and came around to Imani’s way of thinking by the end, if not in totality than to understand that she wasn’t just some naive pollyanna and had good points.

Also there was UST between them from the very beginning, thick enough to cut with a knife. Like I mean serious visceral attraction in a way Imani usually doesn’t experience (Thane is another time it happened). And Imani tried to ignore it for a long while, for the same reasons she tried to ignore her attraction to Kaidan. Imani’s fraternized a fair bit in her time but never with subordinates, that’s just No Good.

I once wrote a drabble for a prompt where they were being hot and heavy and literally got interrupted by Joker on the comm telling them that they were almost to Virmire. Even though that was intentionally ARGH on my part for the dramaz I think it’s fairly close to reality. They most definitely would have ended up together had Ash lived.

Naturally, Imani took her death really, really hard. She keeps Ash’s tags on her altar, in the hands of her statue of Nephthys. When she speaks prayers for the dead, Ash is always the first one she mentions after her family. when her ptsd nightmares go into overdrive during the war, Ash is part and parcel of them. there’s a part of her, the irrational part, that will never ever forgive herself for leaving Ash behind on Virmire. despite her rational mind knowing that there was no way, and that Kaidan had to be the one she aided because he was the tech on the bomb and that bomb’s detonation was the paramount objective. the lab had to be destroyed or else everything was for naught. but she still blames herself for not saving Ash too, deep down.

Imani considered that her greatest failure until the Alpha Relay incident. she’s her own worst critic and has impossibly high standards for herself. she feels that she should have found another way, there’s ALWAYS another way. and Ash’s death on Virmire and the resultant guilt she still feels about it is a huge motivator later on as they’re prepping for the Suicide Mission. Imani was determined more than anything not to leave a single person on her team or the crew behind, that she was going to make damn well sure that EVERYONE got out alive, even if it meant sacrificing her own life in the process. (Thankfully, she didn’t have to, and everyone did make it out.)

tbh ever since I realized I couldn’t deal with L*ara I seriously thought of revising that whole part of Imani’s story so that the source of conflict between her and Kaidan wasn’t a silly love triangle with L*ara but their dealing with the aftermath of Ash’s death and the attendant survivor’s guilt instead (i low key ot3 imani/ash/kaidan)

the only real reason I haven’t is because the entirely coincidental symbolism of L*ara getting Imani’s body back in terms of the Egyptian mythology angle is too good to throw out. but i think about it still, sometimes

[rubydubydoo122]

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason) and overdose

Bruce seemed to have that look on his face. The one where he was about to tell Jason something he didn’t want to hear in that tone that made him feel like he was 12 again.

12, like the little lamb who the Joker had Gutted alive, eaten alive.

Jason had to swallow the bile that was rising up in his throat, and turned to Bruce, “I’m sorry I killed the Joker, but not really. You can yell at me later for it. Ok?” Jason wasn’t taking any of Bruce’s ‘Holier than thou’ attitude. He know. He knows he’ll never be good enough for Bruce. He’s known since the moment his brain was sewn back together by the Lazarus waters. Jason knew he could never be good enough for Bruce. If Jason knows that, Bruce has to know that.

Dick was leaning against a wall head clutched in his hands and with his eyes squeezed shut shut. Then he took a deep breath, and it was almost instantaneous the way Dick collected himself.

Just another way Jason wasn’t Dick and would never be him. 

Though, Jason felt like he was missing something when he realized both Bruce and Dick were plastering on their gala smiles.

Though Dick’s voice was tight, barely masking the venom when he spoke, “Ms. Haywood.”

Jason doesn’t think he’s ever turned around so fast, “ Mom?”

Sheila’s eyes lit up in a way Jason couldn’t explain, “Willis,” She swatted Jason’s chest, but let her hand linger, “I thought you were the one who told me to stop calling you papi. ”

Oh. oh. Ew. Ew. Ew. This was some “Back to the Future” type buffoonery. He took a step back, but then noticed how eyes were red and pupils were dialated, “Sheila, are you high?”

She giggled, “It’s just a little coke.” she moved closer and ran a hand up and down Jason’s chest, “You look nice. Almost like the day we met.”

Dick swatted Sheila’s hand away and slightly stepped inbetween the two.

Jason could feel his shoulders creep down a little, now that Dick was acting as a wall “Where’s Jason?”

Sheila pouted, “but Willy, it’s my weekend with him.”

“You’re as high as Icarus right now, and outside, without him. I think I have every right to see my son. Can I borrow your keys?” He held a hand out.

She hummed, “Alright, butcha gotta gimmie something first.”

“Ok…”

She put a finger to her chin and looked up, “A romantic old kiss.”

Jason was about to die from discomfort and cringe into hell, “How about… I promise you one for later.”

She sidestepped Dick and gripped Jason’s collar, “nuh, uh uh,”

Jason was dead. He was dead, and this was hell, “Sheila, please, not–not in front of my Dad.” Jason glanced at Bruce who seemed to be rebooting. The words kinda slipped out, but they seemed to make her falter, “And you’re making a really bad first impression.” Hopefully this wouldn’t be much of an issue. He was pretty sure Papi’s parents died years before he was born, because this was Gotham. No one lived long.

“Oh.” Sheila immediately let go, and smoothed her hair, “It’s nice to meet you sir. I- uh, Willis didn’t tell me he was bringing you. I’m Dr. Sheila Haywood.” She held out a hand

Bruce raised an eyebrow, but didn’t shake it back. It was a power play that Bruce uses with superheroes he didn’t trust. 

“Sheila, why don’t you go on a little walk. Sober up. Then we can all talk together.”

“Yeah. Ok.” She dug her keys out of her pocket, handed them to Jason, and headed down the block.

He ignored Bruce and Dick’s looks as he headed towards the apartment listed on the keychain. It wasn’t too far, a couple buildings down, but something about this Gotham made him feel… off kilter. He didn’t really recognize it as well as the other ones. It seemed… better somehow. Not that there wasn’t crime happening around them, it’s just, compared to their Gotham, the crime seemed juvinile.

The opened the door to the building and went to the third story. Only to realize the door to the apartment wasn’t even locked.

It’s because she was high.

But then why didn’t Jason lock the door? By the time he was five he knew locking the doors were important.

“Mama?”

That was a baby.

He heard scrambling, and the sound of small footsteps making their way to see who had just come in. Baby Jay laid eyes on Jason and his face lit up, “Papi!” and the toddler was barrelling towards him. 

Jason squatted down to embrace the Baby Jay, and stood up while bringing the kid with him. Jason was very skilled at the art of picking up kids. The Alley Kids don’t call him Tio Rojo for no reason. 

He planted a kiss in Baby Jay’s curls, “What have you been up to, Mi alma.”

Baby Jay leaned into Jason’s shoulder an shook his head. Though, it was a bit aggressive, so Jason was 90% certain he was wiping his face on Jason’s shirt, “Nothin’...” Jay looked up and held Jason’s face with both hands, “Papi, your eyes hold the whole earth.”

Jason gave Jay a little laugh, “Is that so?” Though he held Jay’s eye contact. Something… something was off.

“They’re brown like the dirt, green like the trees, and blue like the oceans.”

There was a soft chuckle, that definitely did not come from Dick. Except, Bruce doesn’t chuckle. At least not anymore.

Jason turned around to look at Bruce, who was looking reverently fondly longingly warmly at the two of them, “It’s nice to know you’ve always had a way with words.”

Honestly, Jason might’ve stool there gaping like a fish for years if Baby Jay didn’t start making grabby hands towards Bruce. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed and reached a hand out to wipe Jason’s face. Baby Jay began to flop towards Bruce, and Bruce immediately caught him, “Hey there, Jay. What’s on your hands?”

“Nothin’!” Jay stuffed his hands in his tiny pockets, “I don’t even have hands.”

If Bruce didn’t look so worried serious, Jason would’ve laughed. Except he didn’t, because now that he thought about it, it did feel like something was on his face. 

Dick made his way deeper into the apartment, very obviously looking for something.

He wiped it with his sleeve, and when he looked at it, there was a white chalky substance clinging to the brown leather. 

“Shit!” Dick swore from the kitchen, “There’s cocaine spilled on the dining table. And a spoon.”

“Call 911.” Jason immediately bent down to grab the Narcan from the pocket by his ankle. Except the packet he had was empty. He used it to help a man who was overdosing during patrol, before their stakeout with Black Mask.

And Bruce keeps Narcan in the vehicles he drives, not his utility belt. Because the parts of Gotham Batman patrols ‘doesn’t have much of a drug problem.’ “Dick, do you carry Narcan with you?”

“I ran out a couple days ago, and only had time to restock for my uniform.” Meaning Officer Grayson would have Narcan, not Nightwing.

Jason looked back to Bruce and Baby Jay. Bruce who’s eyebrows were furrowing more and more, and Baby Jay who was looking at Bruce like he was an angel.

Jason stood up, “Sheila’s a doctor. Maybe… Maybe there’s some in the bathroom? Or the kitchen. Or somewhere.”

He made his way to the bathroom. It was where Mami kept the Narcan when her opiates had been messed around with. There was a first aid kit, but only the with the basic bandaids, antibiotics and painkillers.

“There…There isn’t a home phone.” 

What?

Jason remembers using the homephone to call 911 when– right. Sheila’s his mom, not Catherine.

Still, why, why in the world would she leave a four year old at home alone ? Why in tarnation would she leave her cocaine in reach for a toddler ? She was a doctor , she should know better.

Even when Mami had doctors appointments and Papi was busy working, because chemotherapy is expensive, she would leave him with their neighbor, not all alone. And when the neighbors were too busy she would take Jason with her. Even when Mami had switched to opiates after they couldn’t pay for chemo, even when she was so tired she could barely walk, she made sure to keep the meds sealed and out of reach from Jason. And now, because Sheila was too careless, because Sheila didn’t care, because she didn’t want–

There was crying like the lamb like Tiny Tim. Right, Bruce was alone with a baby. He probably barely knew what to do.

He went into the living room and sat down next to Bruce, who was holding a wriggling Jay. Jason took Jay from Bruce and started rubbing his back. He was warmer than before, “What’s wrong?”

Jay grabbed at his chest, and pulled his shirt, “ Hurts .” Jason rested his hand on Jay’s chest. His heart was beating rapidly. 

Jason– Jason didn’t want to tell Baby Jay a poem to distract him. Because a poem would mean the end and– It can’t be the end. Not when, not when Baby Jay had never lived. Not when he had a whole lifetime ahead of him.

Bruce stood up, and went over to where the CD player was sitting on the windowsill.

“Bruce, what are you doing?”

Jason could tell what Bruce was doing. He was searching through the CD basket. He really meant why he was doing it.

“You, um, you said you used to listen to Billy Joel with your… Dad.” Bruce found the CD he was looking for, “This doesn’t say what song it is.”

“Billy never disappoints for any occasion.”

Bruce put the CD into the player, and the quick stacattos of the piano chords began to play. Maybe ‘Only the Good Die Young’ was a bad song to play when a toddler what fighting for his life.

Though Jay’s crying pettered out when he heard the music.

“ Come out, Virginia, don't let me wait; You Catholic girls start much too late; Aw, but sooner or later it comes down to fate; I might as well will be the one,” Jason stood up, and started swaying to the beat with Jay in his arms, as they listened to the song, “Well, they showed you a statue, told you to pray; They built you a temple and locked you away; Aw, but they never told you the price that you pay; For things that you might have done. Well, only the good die young; That's what I said; Only the good die young; Only the good die young.”

Jason started singing, because he didn’t want Jay wondering why they were just swaying in silence, “ You mighta heard I run with a dangerous crowd; We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud; We might be laughing a bit too loud; Aw, but that never hurt no one; So come on, Virginia, show me a sign; Send up a signal, I'll throw you the line;” Jason covered Jay’s eyes, and earned a giggle, “ The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind; Never let's in the sun,” Jason felt his heart swell as Jay softly sang along. 

He was aware that Bruce and Dick were just watching. He was aware that Jay’s heartbeat was still getting faster and faster. He was aware when Jay stopped singing along. He was aware when Jay went into cardiac arrest. He was aware when Dick started doing chest compressions on the doll on the couch. He just couldn’t seem to move his arms, or legs. He couldn’t seem to blink and he couldn’t hear anything. Weren’t they just listening to Billy Joel? What were they listening to again? Vienna? My Life?

There would soon be a child buried in the ground. In a coffin that was too small. There were now seven coffins in the ground that were too small. There was going to be more. With each universe the went to, they brought the death of a Jason like an inescapable prophacy.

Everything lurched around him. The sun engulfed the earth, though it goosebumps dotted his skiin like there was six feet of snow on the ground and he was buried in it. He was buried in white.

A child was gone.