#jason wasn’t being held captive or forced to kill!

[a-short-alien]

JASON!!!!! I love him oh so much it’s actually incredible he looks a little funky in the doodles but it’s okay don’t look at that

In this AU, there was actually no plan to kill Jason. The Joker had decided that the reason his original plan of “getting his own Robin” didn’t work because he just picked some random kid. He decided this time, he needed to get a real Robin to fill the roll. So he kidnapped Jason during one his and Batman’s more heated fights and essentially convinced him that the Batman had left him for dead while Bruce was entirely convinced Jason had been killed. Jason, similar to Clown was put into intensive near daily training, but Jason being… Jason, he resisted quite a bit, causing the Joker to be much harder on him. Clown tried his best to look out for Jason (not fully understanding why he was there) for those months. Whenever he wasn’t busy with training, Clown was usually there to distract him from their current situation. Jason, though young and full of rage, seemed to understand why Clown didn’t fight back, he didn’t feel like he should have to pay for a fight their fathers were having, so they got along well. Some nights they’d talk for hours about really anything but Batman and the Joker. After around six months of this though, Bruce found out Jason was still alive and being held captive. In a moment of desperation, he rushed over to collect Jason but Joker found out. This led to him moving him to a warehouse, trying to threaten the Batman away with harming Jason, but Batman kept pursuit, leading the the Joker simply “giving up” on the operation and blowing the warehouse up with Jason inside. This would become the main driving force that motivated Clown to leave home. After Jason died some of the pieces began to fall together and though, he knew his father was bad he only fully realized in that moment. After leaving, Clown visited Jason’s grave often, at least once or twice a month, apologizing for not doing more, having the conversations they used to have, ect. Once the timeline changed and Jason was back, the two met and became great friends again, especially after Clown detailed the whole “leaving his entire life behind for Jason’s sake” thing. They now hang out every so often, even working together on taking down some drug trades together on rare occasion.

Jason sees “clown” as an insult so he prefers to call him Jackie

Kept their friendship kind of secret for quite a bit so when Dick introduced the two you can only imagine how shocked he was when they got along so well

Though he never asked him to, Clown usually takes off the makeup around Jason just out of respect

The two refuse to tell anyone but Dick how they met and even he’s left in the dark about most of the details of their friendship

Jason loves to flirt with strangers but when they reciprocate he’s disgusted and runs off (aroace Jason is my fav)

They never really tell anyone when they hang out, they just sort of both disappear for 6-8 hours every so often

They actually met back up one of the days Clown had been visiting Jay’s grave and nearly had a heart attack when he just popped out

Bond over the fact that neither of them can use a phone for any reason because Clown was either in the clutches of the Joker or too poor and Jason was Dead so now that they have these little computers at their disposal they’re both completely at a loss

[alltheshadesofamber]

I need people to understand that Jason doesn’t kill because he was trained by assassins to do so, Jason was trained by assassins because he wanted to kill

[butwhyduh]

Jumping

Tim drake x reader

This is during the time that Dick has to fake his own death. I’m also ignoring most of canon tbh. Mentions suicide ideals.

You worried about Tim. I mean, you always had since you met him in a coffee shop and they gave him your order instead of his and all he did was ask for a shot of espresso to go with it. But tonight you were terribly concerned because Tim was so sad that he was dull. His shiny black hair hang limp and his bright blue eyes looked dull and blood shot.

You couldn’t exactly blame him. It was only 2 week before that his brother Dick had died. He hadn’t touched his computer all day but instead sat staring at various places around his apartment. You forced him to eat a very late meal and he took all of 3 bite from his food.

You washed up and went back in the living room for him to be gone.

“Tim? Tim?” You asked. You noticed the window to the fire escape was open. You walked over and shivered at the cold breeze.

He was standing on the edge of the roof and you froze. Your first thought was ‘is he going to jump?’ Your heart pounded as you gently called him and it scared you even more when he didn’t respond.

“Tim? Timothy? Tim, what are you doing?” You said with fear creeping in your voice. There was no way that you could climb the stairs up a level to stop him if he jumped right now. He looked down at you disoriented.

“What?”

“Please step back. You’re- you’re scaring me. Tim, please,” you said and he took a step back but looked bewildered. You quickly climbed the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a daze. You pulled him into a hug and farther from the edge. Your body was shaking and he confusingly pat your back reassuringly.

“Don’t scare me like that,” you chided him before mentally kicking yourself. If he was that bad, he needed support not anger. He really didn’t seem to get it.

“What are you talking about? What’s got you so scared?” He finally said clearly.

“I thought- I thought you were going to jump,” you said burying your head in crook of his neck. Your fingers gripped the back of his shirt tightly and you listened to his heartbeat. You might never let go of him.

“Oh shit. I wasn’t- no. I just needed to think,” he said rubbing your hair gently. “Sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. I’m just worried. It’s a lot to lose your brother. Maybe you should talk to someone,” you said gently. He looked at you guiltily.

“I’ve been a little too lost in it, hu? Sorry. It’s just that.... I never expected this to happen. He always seemed invincible. He’d jump off the roof with no hooks or nets and swing on light poles before landing on the ground and wouldn’t hurt a thing. He’d take on metas and come out unscathed. That was just Dick, you know?” Tim said after a minute. “Nobody knew how he did it.”

Tim pulled you both to sit on a lawn chair on the roof. Your fingers played with the back of his hair and you couldn’t stop looking at him because you had never been so worried to lose Tim before. He flinched at the sight of how you looked at him. You were genuinely terrified earlier.

“I wouldn’t jump. I wouldn’t do that. Especially not to you,” Tim said and it scared you that you weren’t sure if he meant that he’d never do it or not where you’d possibly see. “Don’t worry. I’m right here.”

You let yourself believe that and you leaned into him, pressing your ear against his chest. His heartbeat calmed you and you listened to it as he rubbed your back. He stared out at the sky and Tim didn’t know how long you were both out there before he noticed that you had fallen asleep. He smiled a little.

Then his next thought was the logistics of getting you down to your bed without waking you. The fire escape wasn’t exactly built for carrying people through. Soft goosebumps were on your arms in the cold and Tim carefully picked you up and miraculously made it back into your apartment. After a few hair raising seconds where he almost smacked your head and feet on a door frame, he managed to get you in bed.

You hands had a death grip on his shirt and Tim was pulled into bed. It wasn’t the worst idea to get some sleep. And he certainly felt that he owed you some peace of mind after he scared you so bad. When was the last time he fell asleep? He laid back and you clung to him tightly.

The next morning you woke up warm. Far too warm. And arm was thrown over your face that you wiggled out from under and another held your back. You stretched your fingers that felt like they had been gripping something all night. The sun was out and Tim was still in bed. You put the pieces from the night before together and looked up at his face.

There was no scowl or wrinkle in his brow. He looked peaceful. His lips had a slight pout in sleep. His face had a light smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks and his hair had fallen over his eyes. You gently brushed it back to get a better look at his beautiful face. You held the back of his head as light as you could while staring at him. You almost never got this view and you just watched him sleep for a few minutes.

“Isn’t it rude to stare,” he said after a while. You jumped a little and laughed.

“Did I wake you?” You asked.

“No. I think I actually got a full night sleep,” Tim said and he still hadn’t opened his eyes.

“Yeah, we should probably get breakfast,” you said moving to get up. Tim wrapped his arms around you tighter and squished you to his chest. You squeaked.

“Not yet. A few more minutes,” he mumbled almost back asleep. You chuckled and booped his nose. Tim’s eyes flew open. “What was that?”

“Waking you up,” you said and he gave you a fake glare before his arms slowly moved. Then Tim attacked your sides with a tickle. You shrieked and jumped back before he stopped. He smiled at you almost ruefully before gently kissing you chastely. His smile fell when he pulled back.

“I’ve got to go to Bludhaven today. Take care of some of his stuff that he’d want to keep,” Tim said and you frowned.

“Do you need me to go?” You were still worried about him.

“No, Jason is going. Don’t worry about me, okay,” Tim said seriously. “I need to get up because he’ll be here in 30 minutes? Maybe?”

The knock on the door said that his timing was a little off. Tim got up to go answer it. Jason stood there and he frowned as he looked Tim over.

“That’s your clothes from yesterday.”

“I’ve got to change,” Tim said, letting him in. You came out of the room with a sweater over your clothes and smiled at Jason who nodded his head at you. Tim went in the bedroom to change.

“Hey,” you whispered, barely audible. Jason looked at you confused. You hadn’t really interacted much before. “Watch out for him. He’s not okay. Alright?”

Jadon just nodded. “Anything I should know?”

“No. Not really. He scared me last night,” you admitted as you put on a pot of coffee. Jason gave you a look that clearly read ‘do I need to kick his ass?’

“What did he do?”

“He just stood on the roof edge. I thought- I thought he was going to jump,” you whispered and Jason’s face dropped. Tim hadn’t exactly had the most self preservation in his history.

“Shit, seriously?” He said with a sigh. You nodded.

“But he just seemed confused when I found him. I’m worried. Just watch out for him, okay?” You said.

“What are you two talking about?” Tim said walking in the room, throwing on a tie.

“Really? A full suit?” Jason said rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, one of us needs to look like a functional adult in case someone stops by. I can’t exactly wear sweats everywhere as WE’s CEO,” Tim said. You straightened the tie and collar.

“... and then there is you,” Tim said looking at Jason after you were done. “You look like you tattoo out of the back parking lot of a Denny’s.”

“Maybe I do,” he said dryly with a little curl to his lip. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

Tim nodded and gave you a kiss and Jason groaned by the door. He gave the ‘come on’ hand gesture. Tim rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know when I’m going to be back. See you later.”

“Bye.”

Half ways down the highway, with Tim as a captive audience, Jason starts to talk.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

“Cut the shit. For real,” Jason said, violently passing a slow car on the highway in his truck. Tim grips the dash and is sure he’s going to die.

“I’m fine. Why do you think I’m lying?” Tim said through gritted teeth. Jason keeps driving roughly.

“Well, your girlfriend thought you were going to kill yourself last night and that isn’t exactly the first thought I’d have if I saw you on the roof. So either she’s being dramatic or you’re acting really off. Which is it, Timbo?” Jason said. Tim never missed Dick more. Jason had the subtly of a butter knife to the gut.

“I might be a little sadder, sure. I mean, my brother died,” Tim said. “Can you drive without trying to kill us?”

“I’m driving fine. Go on,” Jason said, crossing 3 lanes. The squeals of car horns behind them tell Tim he isn’t the only one that doesn’t like his driving.

“I’m gonna die in this car,” Tim muttered. Jason glared at him. “Watch the road! Okay. Fine. I feel numb. Okay? Like I don’t feel happy or sad about anything. And I’m fucking guilty because I should be over the moon because I just moved in with my girlfriend and then...”

“Then your brother died. It’s normal to feel like shit Tim. But to be numb.... you ever think you’re depressed?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know. I have anxiety,” Tim answered.

“You can have both. Is it this exit or the next?” Jason asked two second before the ramp comes up.

“This!” Tim yelped and Jason turned them off to a side road going at least 70 mph. Tim held the dash and considered praying despite being an atheist. Jason finally slowed down enough to not look like he’s driving a getaway car.

“I think you should see a therapist. I can give you mine’s number,” Jason said and Tim quickly turned to look at him.

“I didn’t know you went to therapy.”

“I was tortured, beat to death, and had to dig myself out of my own coffin. Does that seem mentally okay in anyway?”

“I mean, no. But I don’t know,” Tim said with a shrug. He just hadn’t thought about it.

“Anyways that’s not the point. The point is that she’s used to Gotham’s brand of bullshit and will help you. Okay?” Jason said driving into a parking lot and skidding into a space. “If you scare your girl like that again, I’ll knock you out.”

“Yeah. I won’t scare her again. It was an accident. And I’ll talk to your therapist,” Tim agreed. Jason nodded.

“Let’s go do something I’ve been dreading all week. Clean out golden boy’s apartment,” he said with a grimace. And they did. Anything of value was personally taken by the pair. Anything of Nightwing or Robin. Any Flying Grayson stuff. Anything that his brothers had gotten him. A moving service was moving the rest to a storage unit later that day.

Jason sat on the concrete steps outside the apartment and tossed Tim a beer. Tim barely caught it before sitting down himself. Jason pulled out his own.

“Jason, I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars to not drink that before we leave. Can we have this moment at the manor after we survive the drive home?” Tim asked and Jason sighed.

“Sure kid. Dickhead wouldn’t have liked me getting you drunk anyways. Let’s get this stuff back,” Jason said and they both went to the truck.

After dropping off the stuff and talking to Alfred, Tim and Jason were back in the truck. The beers were mercifully forgotten. Jason passed him a paper with a name and number.

“My therapist. You better call them. If not for you, for your girlfriend. You can just talk and shit,” he said not looking off the road. Jason knew better than to think that this kind of thing could be done for someone else. But he also knew it probably only took a tiny push for Tim to get help.

“Yeah, thanks.”

A few hours later Tim sat on his bed with his phone in hand. Yeah, he needed to call them.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 9 – Making it Official

Chapter 1     Chapter 8

“What the fuck is with all the stunts?” Red Hood griped, landing his punch on the fourth of Scarecrow’s henchmen in the last minute.  Luckily, this area of the hospital gave them enough room to maneuver.  Unluckily, the pharmacy where the rest of Scarecrow’s henchmen were barricaded had entirely glass walls.  Good to get in.  Bad for stealth.  The henchmen inside knew they were coming, but then again so did the hostages.

“What do you mean?” Nightwing asked innocently landing his triple flip on top of a henchman and using his momentum to swing into the man next to him, knocking him out as well.  He bounced from that to spin into a punch, the velocity from the spin adding force behind the punch, making it powerful enough to break the henchman’s jaw. He surreptitiously glanced at the hostages before ducking the haymaker thrown by another henchman.

“He means you’re being extremely extra right now.  Wait… oh my God!  Which one is she?” Signal exclaimed, excitedly searching the hostages while he kicked one henchman in the chest hard enough to send them into a far wall, dodging another’s punch to punch him back in his unprotected side.

“The baby mama is in there?” Red Hood cut in.  “Which one is she?”

“Hood!  Not having this conversation right now,” Nightwing reprimanded sternly.

“Oh, calm down.  All these guys are out,” Hood dismissed him.

“But the extensive amounts of surveillance cameras are not,” Nightwing hissed out.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Oracle?”

“On it.  Five seconds of video gone,” Oracle’s voice sounded over the coms.

“Thank you,” Nightwing sighed.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, let’s go save your baby mama,” Signal responded with a grin before jumping through the window at the far side of the room, as far away from the hostages as possible, tackling two of the henchmen in the process.

“Back away or I start shooting with this one,” the lead henchman growled, holding a gun to Marinette’s head.

Nightwing froze.  His eyes widened in panic.  Red Hood and Signal took note of Nightwing’s response and quickly turned from laidback to tense.  “Alright, calm down.  Think about this.  You shoot her, I shoot you,” Red Hood snarled.  “Only I won’t kill you right away.  I’ll do it slow and painfully.  One shot at a time in the most pain inducing spots possible.  Believe me when I say I know all of them.”  The henchman looked over to the other vigilantes discretely. “They won’t stop me.  I promise you.”

Signal nodded slightly to show his agreement without taking his eyes off the other five henchmen in the room.  Three of which were standing in front of the other hostages.  The other two were shoveling the last of the drugs they came for in their bags.

The lead henchman narrowed his eyes and pushed the gun harder against Marinette’s temple.  She swallowed a whimper of pain, refusing to give him that satisfaction.  “Sounds like she’s important to you then.  So it seems like as long as I have her, I have my escape,” he jeered back at Hood.

Hood growled in response, but made no move to get closer.  Marinette’s mind was reeling.  This was now a standoff and she was the keystone.  Someone had to do something.  Maybe if they could get away from the other hostages she could do something… she just needed to figure out a plan, which would be significantly easier if she was familiar with the bats and how they usually thought and acted.  She would use her nausea to throw up on him if she didn’t think he would just shoot her for it.

“Boys, grab a hostage and let’s go,” the lead hostage commanded.

Damn it!  She no longer had time.  She needed to act.  Some of those hostages wouldn’t be able to move and there were children in the group. She stuffed down her fear.  She felt nothing.  She was empty.  Except she wasn’t she had a baby now, she wasn’t just risking herself, she was risking the baby too so she couldn’t just fight and take the attention all onto herself. She needed a diversion.  She sent a furtive look to her purse on the far side of the pharmacy and made eye contact with Tikki.  She gave a slow nod and watched Tikki fly off to one of the racks of drugs.  She tensed in anticipation.  

She waited for the sound of whatever she was going to do and acted as soon as she heard it.  She only spared a second to note a rack of drugs falling over taking out one of the henchmen.  Having expected it, she recovered considerably quicker than the rest of the people in the room.  She used the lead henchman’s momentary lack of attention to grab the hand holding the gun against her head and push it past her head while twisting under his arm to shove him toward the vigilantes.  She yanked the gun out of his hand as she shoved him.

She took a second to take stock of the situation.  Four henchmen left.  All had dropped their bags of drugs to focus on getting out alive.  Two headed for the vigilantes.  One headed for the henchman under the rack, must be a friend or relative, she thought vaguely.  It was the fourth that concerned her though.  He was heading for the little girl tucked into her father’s side, probably still seeking a hostage to get away safely.  She turned the safety on the gun, or at least that’s what she hoped she did, and threw it at his head as hard as she could.  

The gun made contact, offsetting his balance.  He struggled to recover and Marinette slid into his legs in a heroically miscalculated gesture.  He fell back instead of forward and landing with his legs on Marinette.  She had enough time to curl into a ball protecting her stomach before he kicked her in anger, the impact pushed all the air out of her lungs.  She felt the pain radiate throughout her back.

“You fucking bitc…” he never got the chance to finish his insult.  Nightwing’s hand was on his throat lifting him up and away from her in an instant.  Marinette looked up in awe for a moment and scrambled back over to the other hostages to make sure they were okay.  Within a few minutes, the room was flooded with police and the henchmen had been hauled away and were getting put into police transports while the hostages were brought out into the atrium of the hospital to wait to give their statements.

Red Hood helped Marinette up gently and personally guided her out to the atrium after all the other hostages had been led out.  “Thanks for the help back there.  Impressive job keeping calm and taking advantage of the distraction.”

Marinette hummed. “Thank you guys for saving us. You were very intimidating.”

Jason hummed back. “Yeah, I’m good for that.  I’m the bad boy of the bat boy band.  Now, interesting use of a gun and all, and I’m really glad it worked, but why, and I can’t stress this enough, the fuck didn’t you just shoot him?” Hood asked bemused.

“I’ve never fired a gun. He was between me and the hostages.  If I missed, I might have hit one of the hostages.  I’m better at throwing.  I knew I wouldn’t miss if I threw it,” she shrugged, still catching her breath.  “If I couldn’t get to him after the hit, I knew one of you would.”

Red Hood nodded in contemplation.  “Solid reasoning.  I’ll go with that.  Remind me to teach you to shoot someday.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.  Next time I see you, we’ll set it up,” she said dismissively and let out a strained chuckle.  

Red Hood grinned.  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Marinette nodded slightly, her face took on a look of concentration and she started breathing deeply again.

“Woah, wait.  That’s her?” Duke exclaimed, peeking around the corner to take a look.  “Damn, you did good.”  He repositioned so he could properly size her up without being too obvious.  At which point, she promptly turned to a trash can and threw up.  He wrinkled his nose in disgust.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“She has really bad morning sickness.  Shut it.” Nightwing growled, handing off the last henchman to the police.  

“And that’s why I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see that,” Signal explained like he was explaining to a child.

Nightwing huffed at him and quickly moved over to check on Marinette.  He reached out to rub her back like he would normally, but pulled his arms back at the last second.  That was too familiar for him right now and she might not appreciate a stranger touching her.  Plus he didn’t know how hard the guy had hit her.  Her back might be bruised for a while.  He would have to check it out later.  “Are you alright, miss?”

“Miss,” Red Hood mocked him quietly, but made sure the coms could catch it as he followed the police cars taking the henchmen they had captured to prison.

Nightwing looked up to glare in his direction but didn’t respond.  “It’s okay.  I’m not contagious.  I’m just pregnant.”  She waved his concern away before moving toward a bench to sit.  

Nightwing helped her sit with a charming smile.  “Congratulations.  I’m sure you and your boyfriend are very excited.  But, are you alright after being held captive?  How is your back?”  His voice got nervous seeing her react by cocking her head to the side for a second before frowning and turning away.  “…Are you not?” he asked carefully.

“Hm?” she hummed in question. She looked back up at him with a confused scowl before the realization spread across her face.  “Oh!  No, yes. Yes I’m fine, or will be and I think I’ll just have bruises, nothing broken and we’re very excited.”  She gently laid her hand on her belly.  “I just realized I don’t know what we are.  We haven’t had that discussion.  Ugh.  I need to lay down for a second.  Excuse me.” She walked herself back down until she was lying flat on the bench with her eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“Of course, sorry miss,” Nightwing responded awkwardly.  He just realized he thought of her as his girlfriend, but they hadn’t discussed their relationship at all.  They knew they wanted to parent together, but not how they wanted their relationship to go or where they were.  He was fine with letting the relationship progress naturally without titles, but she might want something more concrete.

“It’s okay.  At least this suffering is productive.  I’m going to get something amazing out of it.” She offered him a weak smile without opening her eyes and returned to breathing deeply.  

He smiled gently and answered quietly.  “That’s a good way to think about it.”  He wanted to brush her hair out of her eyes and kiss her, but he reminded himself he couldn’t.  He backed off to check on the other victims, glancing back to her every few minutes. She had finally sat back up and her eyes were now open, but that hurt more.  Instead of the bright, hopeful eyes he was used to, they now looked pained.

He wanted to hold her so badly it physically hurt to hold back.  But he couldn’t do anything, not right now, not like this.  He wasn’t her boyfriend right now.  He wasn’t Dick Grayson, he was Nightwing, who she’d only just met.  The distance grated on him.  It burned his chest.  He needed to leave.  He wouldn’t be able to stay this close to her for much longer without hugging her and comforting her.  If his eyes caught on her unsettled, worried eyes one more time, he was going to slip.

He clenched his fists and set his jaw.  He had to act now.  He looked over to Signal, catching his eye and nodding to him.  Signal nodded back in understanding.  Nightwing snuck out past the police and grappled a few buildings away.  He tucked himself behind a half wall and changed back into his civilian clothes. “Hood can you please grab my stuff on your way back?” he called over the coms.

“What am I?  Your errand boy?” He groused.

“Please, Hood.”  The vulnerability in his voice was so potent, Hood felt guilty teasing him any further.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” he called as he ran back to the hospital.  “Marinette!” Dick yelled pushing his way through the people standing around waiting for the police to take their statements and let them leave.

“Dick!” Marinette leapt up from her seat and ran to him, jumping into his arms.

Dick held her tightly, cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair.  He’d known she was fine.  He had just been there not a few minutes before speaking with her about her and the baby.  He knew she was fine, but holding her in his arms was different.  He hadn’t realized how fast his heart had been pounding until it started returning to a normal pace with her in his arms.

“How did you know?” she mumbled into his neck.

“You had an appointment here a little bit ago and weren’t answering your phone,” Dick explained, pulling away to check her over.  He needed to see for himself she was okay.  He patted down her arms and legs and ran his hands over her chest and belly, reassuring himself she was fine before he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

“If you wanted to feel me up, I’m sure we could find an empty office,” she smirked at him.  

He spluttered a bit and blushed.  “I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”  He pulled her back into his arms and buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent.  He kept her in his arms for a few minutes before speaking again.  “I’m going to have to give a new answer for my favorite hero from now on,” he chuckled.

Marinette froze and pulled away, fear evident in her eyes.  “What?”

“After your heroics earlier. I have a new hero.”  He looked at her with mock awe.  She rolled her eyes and pushed his face away, but stayed firmly in his arms, still too dazed to think about what he had said.  “You’ve met the Gotham heroes now.  Ready to change your favorite?”

“I did mention the very many times Chat saved my life, right?” She reminded him with a strained voice, playing along with the attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but only just.

“But Nightwing saved your baby.  Chat can’t say that,” Dick pointed out with a grin, playing up the joke, but it had the opposite effect.  Both of their faces went slack at the comment.  She launched herself deeper into his arms as tears started falling.  He tightened his arms around her.  “I was so worried about you.”  He pulled away just far enough to cup her face and stare in her eyes.  “I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again or you’d get hurt or lose the baby.  What were you thinking?”  

“I… I was thinking once they took them hostage, someone was going to die, maybe all of us.  I was thinking there were people who couldn’t move well no matter how much they were threatened or hit.  The henchmen weren’t going to put up with that.  And there were kids that could be easy hostages.  I couldn’t let them take them.  I had to do something.  There was an opportunity to do something and I could.  Someone had to.  The bats couldn’t without me getting hurt so it had to be me.”

Dick’s heart clenched tighter.  He understood that motivation.  They all did. That was one of the reasons they did what they did.  They couldn’t just not help if they had the ability to do so.  And he understood why it had to be her.  But at the same time, he couldn’t watch her in danger like that. His heart stopped when the henchman she hit turned to attack her.  And when the man had a gun to her head…  He laid his forehead on hers and squeezed his eyes shut.  All the panic and fear he had pushed down in order to function came to the surface and the tears started falling.  “Please don’t… please don’t do that again.  I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, either one of you.”

“Hey, hey,” she wiped away her tears to gently bring his face up to hers and give him a hopefully convincing calm look.  “It’s okay. I’m okay.  Nightwing and Signal and Red Hood were here to protect me.  I mean, how could things go wrong?”

Dick’s face fell and he held her closer because he knew exactly how it could have gone wrong. All the many ways it could have gone wrong.  He’d already envisioned all of them, every unlikely, preposterous, ridiculous way it could have gone wrong, he’d pictured it.  “Marinette, stay with me tonight.  Just to cuddle.  Just so I can know you’re okay.” He rushed to add anticipating her reaction.  “I just… I want to know you’re okay.  Just so I can feel you in my arms.  If it’s too much…”

“Okay,” she interrupted, brushing his face with gentle fingers.

“Okay?”

The hopeful look in his eyes just about broke her heart.  She didn’t think she could deny him anything when he looked at her like that.  “Okay,” she confirmed.  “I’m still a bit shaken too.  I’d like to spend the night knowing you were right there with me, protecting me.”

He crashed his lips into hers and God, he wanted to deepen it.  He wanted to taste her, but he knew he couldn’t yet, not with her nausea as bad as it was.  He settled for gently biting her bottom lip and pulling on it.  She groaned into it.  He could feel her falter like she was holding herself back from more as well. He broke the kiss instead before either of them could do something that would make her sick.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Okay, let’s get you home then.  Maybe we can pick up a snack for you on the way.  You hungry?”  When she nodded, he stood up and guided her out of the hospital.  “Commissioner Gordon?”  He waited for the man to respond before continuing.  “I’m going to take my girlfriend home now.  She’s in no state to give a statement right now.”

Commissioner Gordon raised an eyebrow.  “She looks fine to me.”

“She just threw up and she’s getting weaker.”  Dick motioned to the trash can she had used earlier.

“Sounds like she should stay in the hospital then and get checked out,” he commented critically.

“They can’t really do much more for morning sickness than we can at home,” Dick answered quietly.

Commissioner Gordon’s eyes bulged out and he looked down to her stomach and back up.  “Ah.  Okay. Make sure my officers have your information before you leave.  And congratulations to both of you.”

Marinette smiled weakly at him but Dick gave him a wide grin.  “Thank you.  We greatly appreciate it.  And we aren’t telling people yet, for obvious reasons so if you can keep it under wraps, I’d appreciate it.”  Commissioner Gordon nodded and waved them away.

They stopped to speak with an officer on their way out to make their way to a bakery nearby before heading to Dick’s car.  As soon as they were out of earshot of the people around Marinette finally spoke up. “So… girlfriend?”

Dick grinned down at her. “I was hoping so anyway.”  He stopped and cupped her face again so their eyes could meet.  “Marinette, I’m already picturing my life with you.  I already know I want you there in my life, which I realize is crazy because it’s so fast.  At the same time I know girlfriend doesn’t sound like much considering… everything…”

“Yes!”  Marinette kissed him again.  “That sounds perfect for where we are.  And… I’m already picturing my future with you and the baby too. I like those daydreams.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck with a tired look.  “Now how far exactly is this bakery?  I’d really like to just get back to your place and curl up on the couch with my boyfriend and some delivery and watch a terrible movie.”

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to cuddle into his side and led her into the bakery they were standing outside of.  “That sounds like a perfect night with my girlfriend.”

“Hey, Marinette’s boyfriend, next time you’re going to be disgustingly cutesy, turn your coms off,” Jason grumbled into the coms.  “We don’t need more people in the family throwing up.”

Chapter 10

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

[bushidraw]

Task Force Z Issue #6 - Alternate Ending

Jason was held captive by another task force, another suicide squad. This whole operation had been a mess. The moment he found out Two-Face had been the one being in charge, he had wanted to walk out right there and then. In one of his numerous past, the man had been responsible for his father’s death. He didn’t care at the time, but all these crisis had made his feelings about Willis complicated. There was a time when he wasn’t a bad father, until the universe decided to change him for the worse.

But right now, he couldn’t think about that. KGBeast had put Floyd to rest, and his team just made a dramatic entrance. He lifted himself up, and chocked the Russian mercenary with his legs. Not so long ago, he would have break his neck, but he swore to never kill again. Even though he was choking for air, KGBeast started to laugh.

« Going to break my neck like your father ? »

It made Jason loosen his grip just a little, so he would explain himself. Under his mask, the villain smiled. He was aiming a gun at his adversary, but not the one behind him. At the bat who killed him, using his son.

« When I shoot Nightwing, the Batman came for me… He broke my spine, just under the neck, and left me to die in the snow. He refused to finish me, let me agonizing. Waller came for me… Just a bit too late. But death isn’t really an issue anymore, isn’t it ? The infamous Red Hood ! The Robin who died at the hand of The Joker. »

All Jason could see when he finished his rant was green. He stayed quiet, before letting go.

« You’re an idiot. » He said. « Don’t you think I know what you’re doing ? You’re trying to uses me. You’re trying to uses me like everyone before. Ma Gunn. Batman. The Joker. The league of assassin. It’ll not work. Batman is an hypocrite ? Oh, goodness gracious, what a surprise ! » He smiled. « Watch your back. »

Bane grabbed KGBeast by the leg and slammed him to the ground. He then promptly break Jason’s chain.

It didn’t change anything. Or maybe it did, for one thing.

« Harvey, give me your gun. I know you always have two. »

———————————————————————————

Later, when confronting Bruce, Jason has a bit more to say, and Bruce leaves, ashamed

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

I am looking forward to reading the continuation of the alternative ending of satisfied! Can’t wait! 😜

Happy Easter lmao here’s your monthly dose of depression ig

Though this one is slightly more lighthearted than usual

first part

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@solangelo252

The life of a captive of Bruce Wayne was surprisingly posh.

Maybe her standards were just really low because the last place she’d been held had been a lab where fear gas was tested on her almost daily(? her concept of time was fuzzy)... or maybe the Waynes just knew how to treat a kidnapee. Who knew.

But, hey, she’d been given a phone!

It was hacked, of course. Anything on the internet that even vaguely mentioned Bruce Wayne, the bats, or the Rogues was impossible to access. This had been a little annoying, but not necessarily unexpected. She was more surprised that they were giving her a phone at all.

She sat on the end of the bed, legs swinging like a toddler’s as she looked through twitter.

Gotham twitter just wasn’t the same, though. Where were the people joking about how they’d been praying for a Scarecrow attack so they wouldn’t have to take their finals? The underpaid cafe workers talking about how Batman had come in at 5am for coffee to get through the last leg of patrols and they had to turn him down because they weren’t open yet? Even the usual jokes about the Next Wayne(TM) were hidden from her! No, the internet almost seemed empty.

This left her with very few things to do. It wasn’t like she could request people to talk to her -- not that she’d wanted to, she didn’t want to bother them -- so… she was pretty much always working out or sleeping.

Working out was nice. She hadn’t been allowed to do it much while with Harley and it felt weird to be so out of shape. Who knew it could happen so fast? Certainly not her, and she was going to rectify her newfound lack of athletic ability. Dick even came by daily to help, so she was quickly getting back into the swing of things.

But as for sleeping...

Kwami, she missed caffeine.

Her subconscious was apparently determined to torture her.

(She supposed someone had to do it, since Joker hadn’t followed through on his intentions.)

Most dreams were haunted with memories of the stupid fear gas-induced hallucinations. The bats, now accompanied by Harley, would tell her exactly how much of a screw up she was. They’d give her disgusted looks and admit that they regretted ever talking to her or taking her in. And then they’d leave her, alone, surrounded by the corpses of she hadn’t been able to help.

She’d wake up crying and alone. She’d put on a random podcast and then wrap herself up in her blankets to try and trick her mind into thinking someone was with her.

And, when it wasn’t that dream, she found herself drowning in acid again. For such a short part of a series of unfortunate events, it sure did have an effect on her. She’d scream as the acid touched her skin, burned her lungs, tried to seep into her ear canals… and then she’d get pulled out to look at Joker’s smug face and she’d almost want to be pushed back under because she hated to see him looking so satisfied.

Those ones hurt. She’d wake up, her throat screamed raw, her lungs aching. Even hours later, she’d find herself running her hands over every bit of exposed skin to try and get rid of the feeling of the acid gnawing away at her.

The worst dreams, though, were the ones where she’d be visited by Bruce. Everything would go to plan. She’d stab him in the jugular and then pull the pen out, watching as blood spurted from the wound. He’d fall to the ground at her feet, unable to speak above the blood gurgling in his throat, and she’d just watch him. He didn’t even look betrayed, he just looked… he looked like he accepted it, like he accepted her and what she’d done and that he still cared for her after all that she’d done.

And then she’d wake up, but she never really felt awake when those dreams came. She felt like she was still half asleep, her body more limp than Bruce’s had been at the end of her dream, and any emotion she should have seemed impossible.

She hated the numb. At least she could do something with the screaming and the crying, at least she could bring herself down from those. How do you bring yourself down when you aren’t up in the first place?

But, maybe it was a good thing she was numb. It boded well for her. At least she wouldn’t be hurting if -- WHEN -- she managed to do it for real.

~

She turned off her phone, disappointed as always by how little content interested her, and almost cringed when she caught her appearance in the black screen.

Her skin was bleached from her time in the chemicals. The blood vessels under her eyes had burst when she’d been forced to go without coffee for too long. One of her cheeks were sucked in seemingly permanently from how often she’d been biting it. Her lips were stained cherry-red and stretched thinner than she remembered. Where her ears should have been were large holes in the sides of her head...

But nevermind that! The door slid open with a metallic hiss.

She didn’t know why she’d hoped it would be Bruce, she’d known perfectly well that that wouldn’t be happening for quite some time -- if ever -- but there she was, hoping it would be him. That this would end quickly.

Nope.

She looked up at Cass and Duke and her heart twinged painfully when she saw them.

She had missed them. So much.

(She’d almost been disappointed when she’d found out that they wouldn’t be home when she was going to try and kill Bruce, but then again she wanted them to continue liking her so maybe it was for the best she didn’t attempt to kill their father right in front of them...)

It was nice to see them again. Honestly, she’d missed them more than anyone else. They were her favorites.

(She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about that. They were pretty much everyone’s favorites.)

She practically threw herself into Duke’s arms. He laughed and, though he struggled a little, he managed to catch her. She buried her face in his chest.

“Wow. I see how it is,” Cass said, but Marinette could hear the smile in her voice so she didn’t bother pulling away. Instead, she reached an arm in the direction of her voice and, once she’d managed to catch the sleeve of her shirt, dragged her into the hug.

The three Diversity Adoptees stayed like that for a long time.

And then she pulled back. “You guys better not have gone ahead in the show without me.”

Duke’s face twitched into a frown momentarily before he smiled again, ruffling her hair. “We didn’t. Scout’s honor.”

“You were a scout?”

He snorted. “God no.”

“Then --?”

“Shhhhhh,” he said, using the hand already in her hair to pull her into a noogie.

“Fuck offfffff,” she whined, trying to peel his knuckles away from her scalp.

Cass pulled her away from Duke. Strong arms wrapped her in a new hug and she blinked before returning it.

“Little sister. Leave her alone,” said Cass.

Marinette shot him a nasty grin from between her arms and Duke sputtered. “But I --.”

“Little sister,” she said again, like that explained anything. Maybe it did. Marinette didn’t particularly care because Cass was smoothing out her hair and it really did feel much better than the noogie she’d been getting…

She closed her eyes and leaned into her, relaxing.

Or, at least, she’d tried to relax. Until Duke sighed dramatically and said “Oh well, I guess I have five months of episodes to go through alone…”

“Wait --!”

~

She barely managed to lift her head up when she heard the door slide open, and then she bolted upright when she saw who it was.

Jason.

Her hand slid into her pocket, to the pen resting there, and she slowly pulled off the cap.

No. She couldn’t do that. If she tried to kill him then her pen would be confiscated and she couldn’t even imagine being able to kill Bruce with her bare hands.

(Granted, she didn’t really think she had a good chance of killing him with a pen -- it was a PEN -- but it the chances were more than 0% so it was overall way better than just trying to choke him out or something.)

She closed the pen and settled for glaring at him.

This fucker was the reason that she was there in the first place, and he hadn’t even given her an honorable battle that would have felt satisfying, what a --!

He held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering.

What an amazing person. Literally an angel. She loved him. Her favorite member of the batfamily.

If she’d had any less pride, she would have ran to get the coffee. As it was, she still speedwalked to take it off his hands.

The moment the drink touched her tongue, tension she hadn’t even noticed seemed to dissipate. The calm was quickly taken over by desperation, though. She had to fight herself not to chug it down.

(She also had to fight a wave of nausea, her body was not at all used to taking in any food or drinks anymore, but damn it she was going to get this coffee down if it killed her... again.)

Even with her super amazing self-restraint, the drink was gone within seconds. She swirled the remaining dregs, considering the pros and cons of trying to drink it because she remembered someone telling her that the last sip of drinks are always backwash…

But it was backwash that might have had caffeine in it, so she drank it.

She smiled brightly at him. Kwami, she’d missed caffeine so much. The only person who had given her coffee was Riddler the few times he had come to visit. Apparently Harley didn’t approve of it, though, because he had only brought her coffee three times before he’d suddenly stopped appearing.

… she hoped Riddler was still alive. She’d liked Riddler.

But she knew that asking about any of the Rogues would make the bats think that she wasn’t ‘healing’ up properly. So, instead of asking about him, she said “You know, B is gonna kill you for giving me coffee. I just got unaddicted.”

Jason groaned. “Great. Thanks for telling me AFTER you drank it all.”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to let you take it away from me,” she chirped.

He rolled his eyes. “Rude. Fine, I guess you won’t be addicted since it was only one cup. Can’t get in much trouble if I don’t give you more.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait --.”

“Yeah. I’d really prefer if the bats weren’t annoyed at me, so I guess that’s all you’re going to be getting.”

“Jay, wait, I didn’t mean it --.”

“Oh well,” he sighed. He brought a hand to his forehead like he was feeling faint. “If only I had an amazing little sister who would give me a hug --.”

She was wrapped around him before he’d even finished his sentence. Sure, it was blatant manipulation, but there was no way in hell that she was losing her one chance at caffeine.

(Besides, it was a hug. Hugs were nice.)

She’d spent the rest of the day with him, exchanging jokes about death.

The others didn’t really like them. Even Dick, who always liked a good pun, would only get sad when she joked about how she wasn’t alive anymore.

Jason, though… Jason understood.

And his death had been years ago. So he had a lot more jokes than she did.

“Ohohoh one time someone tried to flirt with me by saying they were a necrophiliac and I said ‘deadass?’ and…” He snickered. “And they said ‘yeah, exactly’.”

She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile. “Oh my kwami, really?”

“I’m dead serious.”

She rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’d say they were going to hell, but they’d probably like it there.”

He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“It’s nice having someone to make jokes with. Damian doesn’t like joking about it.”

“I know. He’s always all…” He screwed up his face and raised his voice to a whine “‘It is not a joking matter, Todd’.”

She gasped. “It’s almost like he’s here with us.”

“Uncanny, right?”

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax.

“... I missed you. We all did,” he said quietly.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Not really. She ended up just giving a tiny laugh and shrugging her shoulders.

His phone beeped in his pocket and she heard him shift to check it. He groaned. “Sorry, kid, I’ve got patrols.”

She nodded slightly and fell back on the bed with a yawn. “You’re coming back tomorrow, right?”

There was a beat.

She cracked her eyes open to see him considering the idea.

“Please?” She tried.

Another beat.

He broke into a grin. “You just want more coffee.”

“Guilty as charged,” she said, not even a little sheepish. “But I don’t mind the fact that you’re coming either.”

“I feel so loved.”

“You are,” she said, with a little pout thrown in for good measure.

He ended up agreeing to bring her coffee daily. She smirked after him. He wasn’t the only one that could manipulate people for things he wants.

Her smirk dropped the moment her hand slipped into her pockets and she realized he’d taken the pen from her when she’d given him a hug.

Bastard.

~

Her eyes flicked past her visitor briefly and she was met with a nondescript, white wall. She was pretty sure that this wasn’t Wayne manor, with it’s dark reds and browns, but she was almost willing to ignore that logic so she could believe that it was. At least if it was Wayne manor she might have been able to guess her coordinates by making portals appear in rooms at random until she found it. But if she was just… in a place then how was she supposed to ever get out?

She didn’t let this show on her face, because of all of them Dick was the most emotionally intelligent and would definitely notice. Instead, she beamed at him.

“Ready for our workout session?”

It was kinda weird, because it was so much like their old routine. They would stretch and talk and practice new moves… but it didn’t feel at all the same. Before everything had happened they had talked about meaningful things; list off their emotions and talk shit about the other bats (they loved them, sure, but they were a handful).

Now, though, neither of them were actually talking much. There was very little going on in her life, so she didn’t know what to say and he… he seemed to think she was weak or something, like she couldn’t take it. One time he’d almost slipped up and told her about how Tim was worrying him because he was getting borderline obsessive and then, when she’d politely pressed for more, he’d clammed up and told her that she didn’t need to worry about that.

She kind of didn’t like the sessions with Dick. They felt wrong.

But she really missed him and his octopus hugs that she could melt into. So she never told him and they kept doing them.

“Jason gave you coffee,” said Dick instead of greeting her.

“... I managed to do a triple backflip!”

He raised his eyebrows at her and she chose to interpret this as him being disbelieving of her ability to do a triple backflip from the ground (which was fair, she’d taken ages to manage it even once and she had nothing but free time) and not him noticing her feeble attempt at changing the subject.

“I did! Look!”

She tried and landed flat on her face. She could hear his strained breathing as he tried his hardest not to laugh. She wished the floor would just swallow her whole.

At least he wasn’t concerned about the coffee thing anymore?

He took a seat in front of her and she slowly raised her head to look at him despite the fact that she very much wanted to burrow into the floor and never emerge ever again.

“We have footage of it, so I’ve seen it, don’t worry. Tim was pretty proud of you so he showed everyone… and I’m proud of you, too, obviously. That took me years.”

She smiled brightly. Tim was apparently proud of her. She didn’t see much of him, so it was kind of nice to know that he was watching over her... even if it was a little creepy that there were people watching her pretty much every moment of every day to make sure she didn’t escape or kill herself.

“Seriously, though, I’m not letting Jason back if he keeps bringing you coffee.”

The smile on her face dropped and she bit the inside of her cheek. Part of her was kind of mad that Jason had taken the pen from her -- really, she should have figured out that that was what was going on, though, he was never the most cuddly -- and the other part was desperate for coffee.

The coffee addiction won out.

“But…” She sniffled a little and pulled tears to her eyes. She tried not to think about how easily they came. “But I need…”

Dick groaned quietly and she felt arms hook under hers and pull her into a hug.

“This isn’t going to work.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and let the tears fall.

“I know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t. Please.”

Ah. That was a little more genuinely vulnerable than she’d intended on being.

But, hey, it was working. She heard Dick’s breath catch at the admission.

“Why not?” He said softly, running a hand up and down her back.

Why he even bothered to ask, she didn’t know. The bats knew about her nightmares. They knew about everything she did, why would they stop when she fell asleep? But she hadn’t mentioned it up until that point and they hadn’t brought it up either.

Still, she mumbled “Nightmares.” She hesitated only slightly before adding that it was “Ironic that NightMare has nightmares, but...”

Dick gave a laugh and she felt herself smile at the sound. He always did like bad puns. Her smile dropped a little when he told her “You still need sleep.”

She laughed bitterly. “It’s not like I’m getting much of it when I wake up every ten minutes anyways.”

He sighed and she felt his head rest on top of hers. “I guess one cup a day isn’t that bad…”

She gave a halfhearted cheer.

“Would you like to talk about your dreams? Sometimes that helps...”

She didn’t even hesitate to shake her head no. She did, however, hesitate to pull away from the hug. She liked Dick’s hugs far more than she’d ever admit, and ever since she’d come back she’d liked them even more. He was just about the right size and just squishy enough for her to pretend she was getting a hug from Harley.

But, eventually, she managed to pull herself together and she pushed him off as gently as she could.

“Ready to workout?”

Dick was wearing a particularly sad look that she decided didn’t look right on his face.

But then he brought a smile to his face and nodded. “Bet you I’m still more flexible.”

“Probably, but don’t get used to it. Your days as the world’s best gymnast are numbered.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

~

 Damian.

She blinked at him. She really hadn’t expected him to… come by at all, honestly. Sure, they’d been getting along better than they’d used to and they were partners before she’d disappeared, but they weren’t partners anymore. He had no reason to come talk to her.

She smiled at him nonetheless. Company was company, and she wasn’t about to be picky when she was locked in a room for the foreseeable future.

“Dami!” She said brightly, crossing her legs criss-cross applesauce and then -- after thinking about it for a moment -- smoothed her dress out to make sure everything was hidden. (Damian was only a few months younger than her, she knew that logically, but some dumb part of her kept saying ‘child’.)

He regarded her for a moment before taking a seat beside her.

“Marinette,” he greeted carefully.

“Are you here for something?” She asked.

He hesitated, just slightly, and then nodded.

Ah. She wasn’t sure how she could be of help, compromised as she was, but she was certainly ready to try.

“I would like to know about my miraculous. Plagg has been… behaving oddly recently.”

Her smile slipped off her face at that. “Oddly how?” She said, eyeing his pockets like she believed the kwami would pop out at any moment and show her himself (which, granted, was entirely possible, but apparently not going to happen).

“He’s been more energetic. Less hungry. It doesn’t make sense.”

She thought about this for a few minutes, resting her head on her hand. Damian was right, that didn’t make sense… if anything, Plagg had been getting more laidback and mellow as time has stretched on...

Unless…

“Have you been using him?”

“... no. Is he just hyper from not being used, then?”

She stared at him, her head tipping to the side slightly as she considered him. Why wasn’t he using the miraculous? She would understand if it was a tactical decision to keep Catw -- was she called something else now that she was using the ladybug miraculous? -- Selina from using the miraculous as often, but it seemed he didn’t really know about that… so why…?

She pushed the thought from her mind. Maybe Damian just didn’t like the smell of Camambert. She wouldn’t blame him.

“It’s a balance thing. If the ladybug is used without the cat, the ladybug gets weaker and the cat gets stronger. Opposite thing happens when you use the cat without the ladybug. They’re meant to be used as a pair.” She clicked her tongue. “It probably doesn’t help that you’re on different sides.”

He nodded his understanding.

There was a beat as they just stood there (well, technically they were sitting, but whatever). She was kind of wondering why he was still there when he apparently didn’t need anything else from her, but what was she going to do? Tell him to leave? No. She was kind of desperate for the company of someone that wasn’t Jason or Dick (Cass and Duke only came by weekly so she didn’t mind them as much… also, they were Cass and Duke, so...).

He cleared his throat awkwardly, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Drake has informed me of your state.”

“I’m dead, yeah,” she confirmed.

He winced and his eyes fell to his lap. “I have also died before, if you would like to talk about it.”

She stared at him. She really hadn’t taken him for the kind of person who would offer moral support…

She pulled a smile to her face and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. Her smile became a little more real as she watched him scowl and wipe away the kiss.

“Thanks for the offer, Dami, but I’m fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“Really. I’ll tell you guys as much as I need to for you to believe it: nothing much happened while I was there. Honestly, it was more boring than scary. So relax, I’m fine. I’ll live.”

And then, because she couldn’t help it, she added: “Well, that ship sailed long ago, but you know what I mean.”

He clicked his tongue. “Now I have to deal with terrible death jokes from you AND Todd? I wish I were dead.”

“You wish you were STILL dead, you mean?” She teased, reaching out to pinch his cheeks and breaking out into laughter when he swatted her hands away.

He rolled his eyes at her and then, with a short ‘Goodbye’, he left. She watched him leave, and the smile slid from her face in time with the door sliding shut behind him.

She fell back on the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t get why people were so concerned about her. They’d faced worse. Hell, even SHE’D faced worse. Why were they making such a big deal about it?

Nothing had happened! Did they believe her when she told them that? She’d had no reason to lie, and she hadn’t been lying... and even if they’d thought she had they had Cass to prove she wasn’t. Hell, that was probably why Cass had come by at all, to check on her mental state! So why were they all so worried? They should know it was fine!

And even if she wasn’t fine (which she was!) it wasn’t like she didn’t have the same training as them. She could spot the victim questions from a mile away and she could even ask them to herself. She knew the answers, and she knew which ones she should be avoiding because she knew that they sounded way worse than they actually were.

Some vague part of her whispered that if anything sounded at all bad to the victim questions then she was, in fact, a victim. She buried her face in her pillow and gave a strangled scream of frustration. Now she had their stupid voices in her head telling her something was wrong, too.

~

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she heard the door slide open. Partially because she was kind of addicted to Geometry Dash and she wouldn’t win if she was looking up and partially because she could smell coffee so she knew who it was anyways.

“Thank fuck you’re here, Jay, I was --.”

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to wait a little longer for him, bean.”

Her eyes snapped to the door and her little box thingy on her screen died but she could hardly bring herself to care.

Tim!

Her face lit up. She hadn’t seen him in a while and she had really been missing him. Also, she noted vaguely, he was apparently healed from all of his injuries. Nice!

Except, as she scrutinized his face, she noticed he looked even more tired than usual. His skin was deathly pale, the bags under his eyes made him look like a raccoon, his hair hung limply around his face…

“Damn, and I thought I looked dead on my feet,” she teased softly to hide her concern.

He managed a smile and she waved him over to lay down with her. He hesitated before coming to sit beside her on the bed.

“When’s the last time you got some proper sleep?” She asked, tugging on the sleeve of his turtleneck to try and get him to lay down and cuddle with her. If she could get him to he might accidentally drift off.

He must have known what she was trying, because he resisted her attempts. “I’m fine. It’s been a while, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. What’s wrong?”

He stared at her confusedly.

“You only get this bad when something is going on. What is it?”

He just kept staring at her and she shifted awkwardly.

“... bean…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s you. I’m worried about you.”

She groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Obviously I’m --.” He cut himself off and then mulled over his words for a bit. He decided on: “I don’t want to keep you here forever. I don’t want you to get ‘better’ because we Stockholm syndrome-ed you. Or re-Stockholm syndrome-ed you, since Harley already did it.”

“She didn’t --,” Marinette started, but she gave up on that. She knew they all didn’t understand it and arguing would probably only solidify their belief that Harley had messed her up in some way. Instead, she settled to address the rest of the statement:  “I mean… I already liked you all beforehand so… it’s not like caring about you would be exactly NEW...”

“It’s still wrong.”

She gave a tiny shrug. “It’s not like you have any other options. I’d probably be doing the same thing if everything was reversed.”

“That doesn’t really make me feel better,” said Tim with a tiny shake of his head.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep the frown off of her face. “Then I don’t know what you want from me, Tim.”

He sighed. “I want you to get better.”

“Hard to do when I’m already fine.”

“But you’re not! You’re literally dead! How is that at all fine?!”

She rolled her eyes. She was getting a headache, though she wasn’t sure whether or not it was because of caffeine withdrawal (she was pretty sure Jason was supposed to have come in a few hours ago) or annoyance at repeating herself so many times. She pressed her cold hand to her forehead to try and alleviate it somewhat.

“It’s not even that bad, honestly. I can still drink coffee and sleep and that’s all I really care about. I can even feel pain! It’s pretty much the same except I don’t have to go to the bathroom and I can’t change clothes!”

Tim stared at her for a few moments before slamming his palm against his forehead. “That’s what it is!”

“Huh?”

“I thought something was weird about you being dead,” he explained, though it didn’t really explain anything. “Give me a minute, I’ll be back.”

She watched him practically run out the door and frowned confusedly. Sure, it was a little weird that she could still do most stuff, but that didn’t really warrant getting up in such a rush. Maybe the dead thing creeped him out more than he let on and he needed a breather?

So she picked up her phone and started playing Geometry Dash again while she waited for him to come back.

About an hour later she heard the door slide open and she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Tim holding a thermos and a plastic tray of food from Red Robin (the restaurant; anything he cooked was straight poison and if she tried it she might just die for real).

She watched him sit down with them. “You hungry?”

He shook his head and shoved them towards her. “They’re for you.”

Her confusion only seemed to grow.

“Sweetie, I don’t eat,” she reminded him, though she did take the thermos in case… nice! Coffee!

“Except you can if you want to, which is weird, right?”

She shrugged a little, not bothering to tear her lips away from her drink to give him a proper ‘I guess’.

“But where’s it going? Because you don’t go to the bathroom so it has to be used up in some way otherwise you would have probably exploded by now.”

She finished the drink and then set down the empty thermos beside herself. “Magic, probably…”

“Maybe,” he gave her, but that didn’t seem to put him out. “But then there’s the pain thing. Sure, it’s muted, but it’s definitely still there. Why should a dead person feel pain?”

“Because I’m not fully dead…?”

“Exactly!”

She shrugged again. “I really don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“What if you just need food or something to come back? Because you clearly had a headache, and it seems like it’s caffeine-related because you’ve relaxed a little since you had your coffee, which means we know that your digestive, nervous, and circulatory system are still working on some level...”

She stared at the food he’d given her.

“You think that if I eat enough I can come back.”

He nodded. “I know it’s a longshot, but we should at least try it, right?”

[bowlingshirts]

Visiting America was a lonely event.

He knew it would be, but Tim hadn't planned for the clinging ache of something deeply wrong settling in him, hadn’t thought of being kept up by a lack of paranoia that made a scream claw at his throat. It manifested in a far different way than he imagined; feeling for the first time in years truly separated from everything that had held him captive, and together, for years.

His days spent doing nothing but reading statements that otherwise would have filled him with a mixture of dread, disgust, and deep curiosity; soiled by the already provided answers to his question. Pretending he was fine, chatting up the employees at the sister institute that kept a canvas covering between him and them.

Nothing felt right, real.

Like a puppeted station of people keeping their secrets tucked just behind a wall, shadows guffawing answers before he could sink a claw into solid ground to find what he needed, and he needed.

His bones ached with a need.

   Canada had been worse, the ichor dripping sweetly from an elderly mouth (how is she so old? In this business? What has she done?), the light buzzing a discordant tune that made his back itch and his head ache, underlying thoughts of how they should have replaced that decrepit old thing years ago. Stood in what could charitably called a shack, he could feel his skin crawling at the reek of wood that tainted the pages he knew were behind hidden from him by a thin wall. Little more than a double sided bit of board, easy to break through if he tried. He could imagine a puppets plastic drawing sagging skin taught in a faux smile to dead eyes of the too old to work there woman politely telling him where to find what he was looking for. Her too sweet smile dragged claws down his back, and he moved a rhythm that wasn't his own, that made his fingers fat and clumsy. His mind numb as he failed to take in what he was reading, and the feeling of being watched by something that watched wrong pried.

The eyes hadn't been on him since he left England, replaced by something else.

He felt like he was choking.

He felt like he needed--

Something.

Something.

He couldn't figure it out.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't-

Stay.

He needed to be home.

He needed to go home, and see his cat, and bathe in the maddening feeling of work peeling him apart to show his deepest seething layers, to boil him. To burn every inch of web out of his stagnating mind, and to wander the hallways he finds, to be alone, and never alone. Never without the ever present eyes of something not Elias watching over his shoulder while he fisted unhealthy hair into a mess.

While he pretended this was all normal and okay, until he heard the others showing up. Forcing himself to be himself. The messy, mismanaged stack of humanity he felt lost in. 

Driving him out of --

This.

He needed to go.

His back hurt.

  This was... What he needed. He felt in on the plane.

He felt the relaxing terror that had dictated him sinking soothingly into his bones the very second he was on the plane.

The feeling he was going to puke subsiding for stress that bundled like it was supposed to, unlike the animal that America brought, or the rancid pantomime of manners of Canada, both laughing at him, squeezing his fingers around something-

A text dragged him to a stop. 

His phone buzzed (he thought he had turned it to airplane mode?) and it was some gross, familiar picture. Soothing his burning mind for a second, just the tip of a foot peeking into the camera, white and stiff in a way Tim had gotten used to. Jason, brilliant hair and a blooming smile, freckles disrupted by where he had wiped blood on his face to remove sweat. A face of excitement, and an old woman behind him looking cross.

Asking if he was sure he HAD to be chaste, if he had to wait for Tim, what with the lot he's got. A bit suggestive, a bit cute, and fully not expecting him home for another day. Just randy and unnecessarily gross.

Tim laughed, and promised if he went to her without him he'd be unstoppably cross.

And then turned on his airplane mode, laid his chair back a step and closed his eyes to let himself think freely for the first time in a week. Let his thoughts be the method of consumption for a minute.

  What happened.

Standing in the doorway to Jason's flat, Tim felt bile hot on his throat. His body burned in cold terror at the blood-- everywhere. Oh Christ it was everywhere. Jason was, he was splattered down the island they had cooked at, drooling a hot puddle at the thing huddled over him’s feet. He could see an arm, this one hot. So so different from Jason's cadavers, still maleable and twitching errantly as the creature goes deeper, snapping a bone as he hunches deeper into him.

Tim was going to puke.

What did he do.

What did he do what did he do what did he, fuck.

Fuck.

He killed him, he ruined him, he can smell it from here, hear it, see how he killed him. His normal little friend.

He croaked out what he knew was a mistake "Jason?"

He'd read this statement actually.

The thing turns, and barrels at him.

It rips his arm first, slams him to the door, and he can't think past the ringing in his head that throbs. It would be his arm, he hates that damned thing. It would hurt. When this beast rips into him, and that is all this thing could be called, he looks up to see Jason, hot, dead, crying, in pain.

And he did it.

He did it to him and fuck, he knew he was doing it. He was selfish, and searching his fucking cult, and knew Jason had something on him, and being around him would just bring it and he didn't care. He was too  consumed being fucked up and a little over his head with the excitement of being normal again. 

And the thing still hadn't come.

It was just staring at him in ravenous confusion.

Until the jaw that tore through skin pulled tight, sick and wet, popped back into place over living cartilage. A dripping maw of a mouth that refused to look like one through the shredded flesh exposing all of it to Tim, so easily healed into something he recognized.

Hair red in blood, tamed itself a bit to be drenched cur-

Curls.

Hungry furious eyes turned warm, wet, inviting.

Affectionate.

Familiar.

"Tim!"

His back hurt.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming!"

His head hurt.

"Christ mate you'll catch your death, close the door."

He needed to leave.

"You scared me."

He was running. The door clipped his ankle in his hurry and he fell, mangling his chin as he scrambled to the step leading him down, away, running, to get lost.

He was sick later.

His head hurt.

[lovelydayintheneighborhood]

Hanahaki Disease (Jason Todd x FemReader)

Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. It can be cured without side effects only when the feelings are returned.

Warnings: none

Rating: G

A/N: “you made flowers grow in my lungs, and although they are beautiful I can’t breathe.”

This is the first work I ever posted, so I think it’s fitting that it’s the first one to bring back!

It started two years ago, after patrol one night. You were the newest addition to Batman’s unending stock of adopted orphans, and had taken up the mantle of Oracle after Babs went back to being Batgirl. You were listening to comm’s when you overheard voices in the cave. That was odd; it was too early for anyone to be back yet.

As the voices got louder, you recognized them as Bruce and Jason’s. It wasn’t uncommon for them to argue, so you just continued with what you were doing until they reached the cave.

“You’re staying here tonight,” Bruce said. His face was blank but his voice had a hint of the earlier anger behind it.

“The hell I am!” Jason was not so held back. He let his outrage show on his face and in his voice, and reached to put his helmet back on his head.

Instead of fighting back, Bruce let out an exasperated sigh and turned to face the computer screens you were sitting in front of.

“It’s too dangerous.” He entered a code into the keyboard before either you or Jason could move, and 2 inches thick of unbreakable glass sprung up that kept Jason from moving more than 10 feet in any direction. Your jaw dropped. You were astonished that Bruce would go that far, even as stubborn as he is. He turned to you.

“Under no circumstances are you to let him out until I get back.” He sounded like a dad lecturing his children. You guessed that in a sense, he kind of was, but you and Jason couldn’t be further from siblings.

With that, he left a seething Jason in your hands.

“I do dangerous things all the damn time! That’s the way it’s been since the very beginning!” He yelled after the Dark Knight. You felt a twinge of guilt, even though you didn’t show it.

You went back to doing what you were supposed to and ignored his presence. Eventually, he spoke up.

“Let me out.” You turned your head to face him and raised an eyebrow. His arms were crossed and his shoulders were set.

“I will do no such thing,” you countered. “If Batman thinks it’s too dangerous for you to be out there, then he’s probably right.” You weren’t entirely sure why Bruce was keeping him captive, but you didn’t want him hurt. Or worse, dead again.

“I can handle myself. Neither of you get to decide what I’m going to do!” He threw his hands down to his sides in frustration and started pacing the 10 foot radius.

You sighed, and turned around in your wheelie chair. It sucked being in the cave all night while everyone else was a part of the action; you knew.

“I know you think he doesn’t trust you, but he just doesn’t want your temper to get the best of you. He’s afraid you’ll lash out at the wrong moment and get yourself killed.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“That’s not his place. Or yours. And since when can’t I keep my head, Princess?” Your nostrils flared at the nickname. You whipped around in your chair.

“Since you go after the Joker every damn time he shows up. Since you kill every thug you come across. You’re so damn selfish that you can’t put your own vengeance behind the lives at risk!” You said frustratedly. You hadn’t meant to say that, it had come out unexpectedly.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You really think that, y/n?” He finally said, and looked up. “You think that I do it for the vengeance? For myself?” His stare was intense, and you felt the urge to look away but forced yourself not to.

“I do it for the kids who have to stay on the streets with those bastards at night; for the women who look over their shoulders constantly for rapists; for all the people who have been terrorized by these assholes and can’t sleep at night, wondering when they’ll be back. And no, I don’t kill all of them. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. But the big guns, the ones like Joker who’ve killed hundreds, probably thousands and aren’t about to stop? Hell yeah.” He continued his pacing after that.

That’s when it became hard to breathe.

You were stunned speechless. Jason Todd wasn’t vulnerable ever, and now you were ashamed you had said anything in the first place.

The comm’s buzzed to life a moment later, and you could practically feel him stop and stare at the back of your head.

“I need backup on Crime Alley. The Joker hired the thugs that were at the shooting as a distraction. He’s planted a bomb somewhere in Gotham and the others are working to find it.”

Everyone else was busy or out of town on other business. You bit your lip and braced yourself for what you were going to do. You could probably get one of the others to go, but he was right; he should be allowed to decide what to do for himself. And you’d forced him to open up, so you felt like you owed him somehow.

“Red Hood will be at your location in approximately 7 minutes.”

“Roger that.”

You lowered the glass shield and turned around in your chair to face his surprised figure.

“Don’t make me regret this, Todd.”

He winked at you with a smirk on his face. “Later, Princess.”

After everyone got back from patrol that night and Bruce had finished lecturing you, you were alone in your room and started having bad chest pains. You blew it off, until you started coughing and blood came up. It could’ve been nearly anything else, but something in your mind told you it wasn’t.

No no no, you thought. Not this. Tears welled up in your eyes, and soon enough petals were coming up with the blood.

————————

Now, it was two years later and the disease had just gotten worse and worse. You made sure to leave no sign of the blood or flowers, and even moved out of Wayne Manor when the episodes became more frequent. You didn’t know how long people usually took, but you didn’t think it would be much longer.

You couldn’t complain too much though, because you and Jason had gotten closer. That was a bonus. By now you considered him your best friend, even if he didn’t in return.

You hadn’t told anybody, and as observant as your family of detectives were, you were sure none of them knew. You were trained by the best, after all.

It was the night before Christmas, and you came over to help Alfred bake cookies. The rest of the family would be arriving soon as well. You felt the familiar rise of pain in your chest, and excused yourself to the bathroom.

The doorbell rang, and you jumped, thinking it was someone near the bathroom at first. You quickly attempted to clean up the blood and shoved the petals in a vase that was on a small table in the bathroom.

You breathed in quickly, the whoosh of air weaving through the flowers in your lungs audible, and then you went back to meet the newest guests.

Cass and Steph had apparently finished their last-minute shopping spree, judging by the bags littering the kitchen table, and Dick was attempting to steal bits of cookie dough behind Alfred’s back, albeit unsuccessfully. When you tried to take a look into one of the many bags, Steph swatted your hand away.

“Hey, no peeking!” She exclaimed. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you said with a smile playing at your lips. You enjoyed how even though the entire family had all probably tried to kill each other at some point, they really loved each other and valued the things that mattered. You only wished that the one who mattered the most to you valued you just as much.

“Ahem.” Speak of the devil. Jason stood in the doorway, his face oddly blank for Christmas Eve. Even though he was a bit of a grinch, he didn’t scowl quite as much during the holidays.

“Y/n, can we talk?” You raised an eyebrow and followed him out into the hall. He kept going though, and you were even more confused but followed him anyways.

He turned the corner into the bathroom, pulled you in quickly and shut the door.

“Jason, wh-“

“What is this?” His stare was intense, and he was pointing at a flower-filled vase. Your heart dropped. You did your best to keep your face neutral, and looked him in the eye.

“I don’t know wha-“

“Don’t lie to me.” He cut you off again. “The petals in this vase are covered in blood.”

“That could’ve been anyone,” You countered, but you both knew it was absolute bullshit. His brow furrowed, and he was quiet for a moment. You could see the worry in his eyes, and God, did you feel guilty when he looked at you like that.

“Y/n,” he spoke in a soft tone with pleading eyes.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just can’t-“ suddenly you broke down coughing with tears trailing from your eyes, and grabbed the sink to brace yourself. Your head started spinning, and the sounds around you became muted, but you thought you heard Jason calling your name.

“Y/n!” His hands searched your body, looking for the small words that would tell him who had done this to you, and maybe even save your life.

“Y/n- talk to me dammit!” Seconds later, you felt his hands stop roaming and his fingers tilted your face to his. You knew he was speaking but you couldn’t register his words, they weaved in and out of focus.

“I love you, I love you so much, so much y/n,” you heard him say loudly. “Please don’t go, please...”

Suddenly everything stopped. The world stopped spinning, your ears stopped ringing, you stopped hacking up blood and petals.

You could finally breathe again.

Jason’s eyes were wide and he was staring at you in disbelief. Out of nowhere his arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Y/n..” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “I thought..” You looked up at him, and your eyes widened as your jaw dropped. Tears were streaming down his face.

“Jason.. I’m so sorry,” you said and leaned into his touch. Your brow furrowed as you went over the events of the past few minutes. How in the hell..?

“Jay?”

“Hm?” His eyes opened to look at you, though you don’t know when he closed them. His breathing had thankfully evened out.

“What.. what did you say? I wasn’t- I’m not sure if I heard you correctly.” You searched his face for signs of something, anything. He took you by surprise by cupping your cheek and pulling you closer, so that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“I love you, y/n.” Then he leaned forward and pulled you into a slow, lingering kiss. You pulled back with tears in your eyes, and rested your forehead against his with a goofy smile on your face. You finally had the man that you had loved for so very long.

“I love you too, Jason.” With that, you pulled him back into a kiss.

[dumbkiri]

Fate Changes Two

Parts: [ 1, Here, 3, 4, 5 ]

Summary: [Name] is stuffed in the same car as Barbara. Both Batgirls reunited after a long night of fighting and struggling in their own way. The Arkham Knight finds himself fighting [Name] again and it leads him being kicked and possibly with a concussion. Barbara witnesses [Name] do an unspeakable act and distracting each other leads to them a deadly accident. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female! Reader

Genre: Action

Word Count: 3k// 7 pages

Warning: Blood, guns, etc

Tagged Fated Changers: @anotherfan07​ @greyxdaze​ @laggyphone​

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Bruce walked over to [Name] with a smile on his face. The teen shrugged her shoulders. She was eating a chocolate bar that she stole from Jason’s secret stash of snacks. “Jason is going to catch you in the act one day.” Bruce finished and began getting ready for a meeting at Wayne Enterprises. It was his first meeting out of twenty he has already had and missed. 

“Once he gets his head out of the books, I don’t think he’ll notice,” [Name] took another bite from the delicious chocolate bar. She was savoring the taste. Oh how it melted in her mouth. Bruce walked toward her and held two ties up in front of him. He gave [Name] a knowing look and she set her chocolate bar down in her lap. She tilted her head, “Good question. Hold the blue closer to your neck,” She instructed and watched as Bruce did. “Okay, now, hold up the red tie above your head. Oh, wait! Hold the blue tie up with the red tie. Then wiggle them side to side.”

Bruce, with a very confused look in his eyes, wiggled the ties above his head. He said, “I don’t see how this helps me pick out a tie.” [Name] laughed and shook her head with her hands wrapped around her stomach. “She’s playing with you, old man.” Jason had popped into the common room with a very distinct look on his face. His arms crossed over his chest. [Name] laid her hand on the chocolate bar trying to hide it before Jason’s blue eyes caught onto it. “Playing or not, blue looks better,” [Name] admitted with a cheeky smile and slipped the chocolate bar behind her. "I disagree," Jason took a seat next to [Name]. He draped his left arm around her shoulder loosely. She knew what he was playing at, so why not keep going?

 "The blue brings out your eyes."

"Red catches the ladies attention."

"Batman's color scheme is blue and black."

 "Nothing is wrong with adding red to your day."

 Bruce sighed and set the ties on the coffee table. Then he turned his back on them, "I'm going rogue." 

Barbara watched [Name] with careful eyes. The [h.color] haired girl was actually sleeping. Usually she would start sweating as she entered REM sleep, but there was no sign of heavy breathing. Barbara brought her green eyes to the Arkham Knight. His attention was on the seat in front of him. It was like he was in deep thought. 

"Chocolate…" [Name] mumbled in her sleep and moved her head off of Barbara's shoulder. [Name] instead leaned to her left where her head met with the rough exterior of the Knight's suit. Barbara and the Knight didn't move too shock in their own way. "I'm sorry," The [h.color] haired girl said with her eyes still closed. Barbara furrowed her eyebrows. She remembered that Tim mentioned [Name] sleep talking a couple of times. The red haired never knew it was true. Usually, [Name] was a quiet sleeper. No snoring. No mumbling. No moving.

 "So you want to tell me what's behind your back?" Jason asked looking down at [Name] with blue eyes staring deeply into her [e.color] ones. She shrugged her shoulders and leaned away from him. Then she scooted at least two inches from him. Their legs no longer touching each other. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jaybird." 

He chuckled and closed the space between them again. Their knees knocked and their hips locked. "Come on, babe," Jason called out to her with a smirk on his face, "you aren't that slick especially when there's chocolate right there." His index finger pointed at the corner of her lips. Quickly, [Name] wiped at her lips and looked down at her hand. She saw no residue of the chocolate bar and declared shamefully, "You made me look like a fool! There isn't any chocolate on my face."

 Jason leaned close to her. Before he closed his eyes, he whispered, "Wrong corner." Then he leaned in for a kiss. [Name] would have allowed for it until Bruce's footsteps were heard again. She stood up from the couch and threw the chocolate bar at Jason's chest, "Alright! I took it!" Then she ran out of the common room to the kitchen where the smell of cookies wafted from. 

"You couldn't wait for at least two more minutes?" Jason asked picking up the chocolate bar from the couch where it had landed. Bruce chuckled and placed his hand on Jason's head gently, "It's called 'getting a room'." 

 [Name] groaned and felt her head leaning on something hard; something uncomfortable. It definitely wasn’t her pillow. She opened her eyes and blinked several times before seeing what was in front of her. It was a car radio and-

"[Name], oh thank god," Barbara popped into her view and grabbed her face gently into her hands. Green eyes met [e.color] and [Name] never felt so relieved to see her best friend. "B-barbara? Where- What's going on?" She questioned and tried to hold Barbara's hands but the cuffs on her stopped her hands from separating more than three inches. Barbara looked behind her and [Name] followed her line of sight. Suddenly, her heart started racing, she felt so enraged by looking at his mask. His suit. His symbol.

"You bastard!" [Name] yelled and Barbara didn't know why her friend was yelling at the Arkham Knight so loudly. With so much hate. Then she thought about it more. The Knight stopped [Name] from taking her own life. [Name] lifted her hands and grabbed the Knight’s mask and slammed it onto the car window. The window cracked and she went to slam his head again, but he roughly grabbed her cuffed hands. The driver began to slow down, but the Knight ordered him otherwise, “Keep driving!”

 Then he directed his attention on Batgirl and headbutted her. [Name] cowered in pain wanting to hold her aching nose, but her hands were still in the Knight’s. Held captive, she resorted to her legs and pushed the bottom of her shoes on his chest. She pushed her legs against him while she pulled her hands away from him. He groaned out from the pressure of her shoes and released her hands. Barbara nearly missed [Name]’s swinging hands and ducked just in time. Her green eyes watched as [Name] fought against the Knight in a small car.

 “Sir, do you need-”

“I said keep driving!” The Knight repeated the order with more of an angry tone used. This didn’t phase [Name] as she was just as mad as he was. He reached for his gun on his thigh and [Name] wouldn’t let him pull the trigger on her. Oh no. That was her job. She reached for his gun as well, but that was only to distract him. Instead she opened the car door and elbowed him in the face. He wasn’t all that much affected by the hit, but it still caught him off guard. The door swung back and forth never fully opening or closing.

[Name] with one last cry forced the Knight out of the car. She saw his body hit the floor and roll before coming to a stop. The driver immediately notice that his boss was thrown out of the car and stepped on his breaks. [Name], without a second thought, went behind the driver and snapped his neck. Barbara gasped and watched on as she closed the back door then kicked the dead driver out of the car.

A bullet whizzed passed Barbara’s head and into the passenger seat. [Name] cursed under her breath and got into the driver's seat. She gripped the steering wheel and slammed her foot onto the gas pedal. Barbara shrieked in surprise and held the car door with her right hand and the seat next to her in her left. “[Name],” She called out still surprised by her actions. She didn’t know how she should feel. She just saw [Name] kill someone then kick them out of the car.

 [Name] took a sharp turn near Chinatown dodging the rogue civilians. “What is it, Barbara?” She questioned, her eyes still on the road. Her nose was bleeding and Barbara knew that her previous bullets wounds were aching. The redhead shifted in her seat, “You just killed someone. Why would you do that?” [Name] wiped her nose with her left hand then wiped the blood on her uniform. “What was I supposed to do? It was either him or us. I won’t die in the hands of a psychopath. I won’t go out like Jason did.” 

Barbara’s breath hitched. “Is that why you tried to kill yourself?” 

[Name] nodded her head, not denying the fact, “I won’t be used as bait. I won’t be a psychotic motivation to get Batman’s attention. I won’t suffer pain I don’t deserve because I’m a sidekick.”

 Barbara didn’t like her behavior. Not one bit. [Name] was happy, strong. She had spirit no one could diminish. Although the tattered uniform, bloody nose, bullet wounds and cuffed hands proved otherwise. [Name] was a broken girl now. Before she was a girl with potential. She knows how to fight. She knows how to care and love. She knows how to cheer people up. But when Joker took the one person that made her world turn, everything stopped. [Name] no longer lived in the manor and she rarely talked to the Batfamily unless Bruce really needed her help. Tonight, he needed her help. Which is why she killed that guy.

 [Name] knew that Barbara was kidnapped by the Arkham Knight. She received a call from Bruce in the bathroom. She couldn’t tell Tim because Bruce needed him to focus on the cure. “I only saw one way out of this mess. I only saw one way to save you, Barbara. I got lucky that the Arkham Knight put us in the same car.” She began explaining herself. Her cruel actions. Even still, it was wrong to justify a murder. [Name] knew that, but she had to get the guilt out. That man was the first person she killed. And it just happened. 

“You’re still wrong,” Barbara told her.

[Name] snapped back, “You don’t think I know that? Batman goes on and on about how we shouldn’t kill. That our morals are supposed to keep us in line. Well guess what? I had no choice.” 

“There was an alternative,” Barbara kept her eyes on [Name], “You could have knocked him out.”

 [Name] scoffed and held her hands up for a few seconds before setting them back on the wheel, “Yeah let me slam his head against the steering wheel 20 times or more until he passes out. Let me give the Arkham Knight a chance to reach us.”

“Batman won’t accept your choice, [Name],” Barbara whispered.

 “When has he ever accepted my choices? I’ve been a trouble since I was born, Bruce has always wanted to fix me. Yet the only person who could have fixed me is dead. He was tortured and killed by the Joker.” [Name]’s breathing started getting heavy and her eyesight was beginning to blur. Every time. This happened every time she thought of Jason. 

She was pulled out of her sadness when Barbara yelled out her name and a car slammed itself into them. [Name] swerved to the right, but straightened out the wheel in time to avoid a street light. She looked to her left and saw the Knight in a car with a new person driving. “Why can’t he ever give up?” She pressed on the breaks and put the car in reverse. Then she turned the wheel swiftly going back in the direction she came from. 

Looking down at the passenger seat, she found a pistol on the seat. She tossed it in the back onto Barbara’s lap. “I’m not saying you have to kill them with that. Although it would help,” [Name] sarcastically said.

 Barbara shook her head and grabbed the gun. The feeling of the weapon was familiar. Her dad taught her how to shoot a gun just in case. She rolled down her window and peeked her head out just a tiny bit. While [Name] was focused on losing the car, Barbara was focused on blowing the tires out. She shot a few rounds and was unsuccessful. 

“Can you drive any less...I don’t know...bumpier?” Barbara asked bringing her head and arms back into the car. She was looking for more magazines and [Name] came into clutch tossing her two more. “I’m sorry these roads are torn up by the Batmobile. Batman drives like a blind lady,” [Name] joked in light of the situation. 

Barbara reloaded the gun, but the weapon flew out of her hand. Then she felt her body lift off her seat, her glasses slipping off and her arms hitting the roof of the car. On the other hand, [Name]’s chest collided with the steering wheel and her hands had hit the windshield. They both heard a terrible crunch of metal against metal. Immediately, the car was in mid air and everything felt like things were going in slow motion. [Name] saw the tank that she had hit with full speed and the Knight’s car not too far behind it. 

Her cuffed hands then hit the roof of the car and like Barbara floated off her seat before slamming back into the cushion when the car came crashing back to the floor. Then as time came back to normal speed, the car rolled onto its side with the girls’ body swinging side to side. [Name]’s head connected with the window and she quickly went into a daze.  Barbara had her shoulder roughly hit the car door. 

The car came to a stop when it landed upside down and slid across the street with a screech hitting a building. Barbara was uncomfortably laying against the roof of the car and she slowly unbuckled herself. Her body collide heavily onto the roof and she coughed out. Her whole body ached and she looked over to [Name], but her vision was blurry. She didn’t notice that her glasses came off. She still hasn't processed that she was in a car accident. The shock was proof of that. 

“B-barbara…” She heard [Name] weakly call out and she pulled her arms so she could crawl over to her friend. “My s-seat belt...it’s s-stuck.”

 “I’ll help you out,” Barbara said and she reached out to her friend, but someone pulled her backwards. She was pulled out from the window and her body was dragged over pieces of glass. Her legs didn’t feel the pain, but her upper body did. “We got one out, sir! She is conscious and alive. I repeat Barbara Gordon is alive.”

 A man carried Barbara over his shoulders and she banged her fists against his back, “Wait! [Name] is still in the car!” 

The man shifted her body on his shoulder and scoffed, “Scarecrow is just going to have to deal with having one of you.” 

Barbara shook her head and looked over at the car. Her blurry vision allowed her to see an orange flicker then it became a large flame. The car was going to explode and if [Name] doesn’t get out...she’ll die. “No!” Barbara screamed, “You can’t leave her like that!”

 Unexpectedly, Barbara saw a blur of red and blue from her right side run toward the car with haste. It was the Arkham Knight. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Sir, it’s too dangerous!” She heard another man yell. Those words proved her right. The Knight was going to save [Name]. But why? Even the man who was carrying her said that Scarecrow could deal with at least one of them being alive. Why was he sacrificing himself to save one of Batman’s sidekicks. Did Scarecrow have a bigger plan for [Name]? 

Meanwhile, [Name] wondered what was taking Barbara so long to help her, Then she heard her friend shout out her name. Barbara was far away from her meaning that she was no longer in the car. How could [Name] not notice that Barbara was no longer in the car. [Name] closed her eyes and wished for the pain she felt to go away. Her limbs ached so much, but when her eyes caught sight of orange flames on her windshield, she panicked. In a frenzy, [Name] looked around for something sharp to cut the seat belt.

 “No! You can’t leave her like that!” Barbara’s voice reached her ears. Tears escaped her eyes as she thought about dying in a burning car. It started to get hot when she heard someone crawling into the back seat of the car. “No, no, no,” She heard the familiar masked voice of the Arkham Knight. 

She turned her head to look at him and she coughed out. The smoke was finally in the car. She saw him crawling to her and he flipped onto his back when he got closer to her. Next move he made, he pulled a knife out and began to cut through the seat belt. His hands moved fast and [Name] spoke with a croak, “What do you think you’re doing?”

The Arkham Knight didn’t stop moving, “I’m saving your life.”

 “But why?” She asked feeling the blood leak from her head. The red substance dripping onto his Arkham symbol. The seat belt was successfully cut and he backed away from her fallen body. Knowing that she was far too weak, the Knight placed his knees under her arms and began using his arms to pull them backwards out of the car. She held onto his legs tightly and when they were out of the car, he carried her bridal style.

 Both fell back onto the ground a few feet from the car when it exploded. His body hovered over hers and with his fingers he moved a stray strand from her face. Her body was littered with bruises and cuts. Her nose had dried blood, dirt and tear tracks were evident.  

 “Because like you Juliet, Romeo never died.” 

[khionesdaughter13]

Riordanverse at Hogwarts

1993

Nico is at the platform 9 3/4 with Bianca again, but this year is his own first-year

And he couldn't be more excited

Will Solace is there with his older brother Lester (* Obviously Apollo is Will's dad, but since I added Lester at his mortal age, this is my way of connecting them)

Carter's whole family is there, even his 9 years old sister, who almost managed to sneak onto the Hogwarts Express

But she was caught by Annabeth, who considered letting her stay, but eventually brought her back onto the platform

Carter and his parents were extremely relieved and thanked Annabeth for finding her a thousand times

Zia is at the platform with her adoptive dad Iskandar

She was a muggleborn, but was adopted by onto Iskandar's pureblood family three years ago

She and her parents had lived in a small village in England

A crazy death eater, who didn't believe that Voldemort was truly gone, went on a killing spree in her village, killing everyone there

But Zia's mother hid her when they saw the death eater kill the first muggles

Zia was the only survivor and found by the Ministry of Magic who were covering up the incident for the muggle world

They thought she was just a lucky muggle, but when they approached her, but Zia unwillingly unlashed a burst of magic, in her fear

They took her to the ministry instead unsure of what to do with her

That's where she met Iskandar

He was working at the ministry and when he saw the young frightened girl just sitting around, while no one really knew what to do with her, he approached her

Zia thought he was just another wizard asking the same interrogation questions as the other five before

But Iskandar started to ask unrelated questions like "What is your favourite colour?" or "What is your favourite magical creature?"

When he realized that Zia couldn't answer the magical related questions due to being a muggleborn he decided to take her to different departments

Zia learned a lot about the magical world and for one afternoon she was almost able to forget the horrible incident

And Zia had wrapped Iskandar around her little finger in no time

He knew his wife loved children and they had thought about having children of their own

He offered the Ministry to take her in and as Zia herself didn't know where else to go and had grown fond of Iskandar, she agreed

Zia fit right in with her adoptive family

She was eager to learn and Iskandar liked to teach

She wanted to learn how to fight, so she could stop the remaining death eaters

And Iskandar began to teach her the essentials of the wizarding world

Now it was time for her to go to Hogwarts

The Dementor's presence caused quite some talk between students

When the train stopped especially the younger student's were scared

Bianca was able to calm down Will, as well as Lester, who said he wasn't scared, but was shaking more than Will

Nico wasn't as scared as he probably should have been, but instead spouted every fact that he knew about Dementors

Finally arriving at Hogwarts the sorting ceremony started

Nico was sorted into Slytherin

He was sad to be seperated from Bianca, but he sat next to a second-year, who held up some friendly chatter with him

Next up was Carter who was sorted into Ravenclaw and walked past all the other first- and second-years to sit down next to Annabeth

Next came Zia who was also sorted into Slytherin

She sat next to Nico

And both excitingly exchanged all sort of facts that they learned

Last up came Will who was sorted into Hufflepuff and happily sat next to Lester

Lupin being the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was taken very well

In a short span Defence Against The Dark Arts became Percy's, Jason's, Reyna's and Zia's favourite subject

And even if it wasn't their favourite subject, everyone loved Professor Lupin

Especially Reyna seemed to stay behind after his class

But she seemed different this school year anyway

During the summer holidays Reyna had an accident

Her father forbid Jason or Frank from seeing her and for the entire train ride she only exchanged a few words with them

She also spent a significant time in Dumbledore's office on the first evening and returned to the common room after curfew

Jason was determined to not let Reyna push him away

But he didn't force her to tell him what was going on with her either

He kept walking to their shared classes together, sat next to her, gave her his notes when she missed classes once per month and visited her in the infirmary

Reyna soon realized that she could trust Jason and told him

During their summer holidays Reyna was attacked by Fenrir Grayback and even though Hylla found her she was too late

She managed to chase Grayback away, but Reyna had already been bitten

She talked to Dumbledore on how to handle the situation on her first day back

Snape brewed her wolfsbane every month, but she still felt bad enough to sometimes miss classes and end up in the infirmary

She told Jason she talked to Lupin so much was because he, as a Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, knew so much about werewolves

It was not her right to tell Jason about Lupin's secret

After Reyna told Jason he went to ask Lupin how he could help Reyna

Lupin was a little weary, but remembering his own school time and how his friends became Animagi for him, he suggested that Jason could read up on it a little

Jason didn't hesitate at all and pulled an all nighter reading every book in the library about Animagi that he could find

With Lupin's help he became an animagus in no time

His animagus form was an eagle

Grover and Juniper both took Care of Magical Creatures together

They saw each other regularly in class and helped Madam Sprout in the greenhouse after hours

Now they spent even more time together taking care of Magical Creatures in their free time as well

They can't even tell when their relationship went from friends to couple

Percy finds out, when Grover and Juniper come into the Great Hall holding hands

And he almost drops

How feels so oblivious for not noticing his best friends feelings

But he is happy for Grover

When it was rumored that Sirius Black broke into Hogwarts the students were forced to sleep in the Great Hall

Blitzen, Hearthstone and Magnus all slept next to each other and Blitzen and Hearthstone kept talking with Magnus to keep him distracted

Annabeth, Percy, Rachel, Grover and Juniper weren't far away

Annabeth wanted to keep an eye on Magnus and her friends just joined her

Frank used this night to reunite with Jason and Reyna who he had unintentionally distanced himself from

Calypso also stayed with him and both Frank and Calypso met Leo who had decided to stick with Jason

Piper joined Leo a little later when the Slytherins arrived and met the others

She already knew Jason and Reyna from their shared classes, but this was the first time she actually talked to them

Sam used to opportunity to spent the night talking to Alex

And Alex was happy to finally see Sam and Mallory again outside of class

Bianca sat next to Nico and when Lester and Will saw them they also sat close to them

Nico asked Bianca to sing that song their mom always sang to them

And when she did she caught the attention of quite a few students

Some started to gather around her listening to her singing

And when she stopped she was embarrassed by the attention

But this time Nico asked her to tell one of their mother's stories

And Sam, who had heard some of Bianca's stories herself assured her to go on

So when she started Alex sat down next to her

He had never demonstrated his metamorphmagus abilities in public before, but he felt like this was a good time

Along with Bianca's story he morphed into all sorts of different character's, visualizing it and captivating every student listening to them

Even the older students couldn't resist

The night that started as an absolute nightmare ended better than most expected

And when it ended friendships had been formed that had seemed unlikely before

Disclaimer: I was unsure what time period to put our characters in and after trying to write different headcanons I decided to go with putting Percy in the exact time period, that Harry Potter went to school, because it's the time period we know the best. While I know that characters would therefore actually would interfere with the Harry Potter dorms that were established (e.g. Percy would end up in the same dorm as Harry and his friends), I decided to not write my headcanons as a crossover of that art. Harry and his friends are still present at Hogwarts and all of their adventures are taking place at the same time, but I decided to exclude Percy and co. from these adventures. If there are school wide events (like the Triwizard Tournament) I will obviously mention them and include them in my headcanons, but there will be no direct interaction between HP characters and Riordanverse characters, to keep it a little more simple.

[jinmukangwrites]

Gunpoint

Whumptopber Day 5. Yes I know, I’m late. I’ll catch up.

Summary: Dick’s been missing for a week.

Warnings: idiot bad guys. Hostage situations.

-o-o-o-o-

Nightwing’s on his knees, his hands locked behind his back. Cuts decorate his suit, showing injured skin below, all over his body. His mask is torn, hanging on by will power alone, one white leans shattered and showing off a single electric blue eye narrowed in pain and anger. His hair is tussled, knotted, completely out of whatever style it’s supposed to be in. Batman isn’t quite sure if it’s because of the seven days of captivity or if its the meaty hand grasping onto the side of his head by the roots. Could be both. All Batman knows for sure is that his lips are chapped, his cheeks are bruised, and that there’s a handgun loaded with a deadly 9mm bullet pressed against his jugular.

“Don’t get any smart ideas,” a man says, and Batman levels his steady glare on him. Kirk Nerling: a new big bad in Blüdhaven, someone Batman didn’t even know existed until Barbara informed him that Nightwing’s been silent for, at the time, 72 hours. It isn’t entirely new information that Nightwing sometimes isolates himself when he’s stressed or emotionally compromised. Bruce was fully prepared to tell Barbara to simply listen out for him and not to worry, but that day was Cassandra’s birthday (to the best of their knowledge) and Nightwing didn’t even bother to leave a happy message for the young woman. It’s entirely unlike him to forget a birthday, let alone a sibling’s birthday.

After some research, they found that gang activity has been on a steady uprise for quite a few days in Blüdhaven, and after some more research Bruce found that Nerling was the leader of that activity, attempting to fill in the shoes of Blockbuster. 

It took a few days, but he eventually found evidence of Nightwing’s abduction, and a few more days to pinpoint the location of his imprisonment. 

All in all, it took Batman seven days to realize his eldest was missing, captured, and being held in a panic room hidden behind a bookcase just next to Nerling’s grand office desk.

Turns out, a man who captures Nightwing earns himself a reputation of steel. He has many supporters now, many gunmen and mercenaries and gangsters to protect and serve him. It took several minutes for Batman alone to make it to the top story of the corporate skyscraper; Robin, Black Bat, and Signal are still in the lower levels of the building, fighting the hired guns. Red Hood, Red Robin, and Spoiler are back at Gotham taking care of a rather large drug bust which actually turned out to be connected to Nerling in of itself.

Seven days. Seven days. This man has taken over an entire city and is extending his reach across the bay all within a week, going almost entirely unnoticed by the bats who protect these cities. 

Bruce would almost be impressed if his son isn’t currently being held at gunpoint. 

And if he weren’t Batman.

“It’s over,” Batman growls, “let him go and give up.”

“Nah,” Nerling says, sighing and clasping his hands behind his back. He leans back against his mahogany desk, the expanse of Blüdhaven’s skyline encompassing him from behind thanks to the floor to ceiling windows. Bullet proof, Batman’s already checked. “If it was over, you wouldn’t be asking me to let our friend go.”

Nightwing makes a grunting noise, probably made as a result from the hired chunk of muscle holding him hostage trying to make a point that he has Nightwing’s still in his grasp. But Bruce keeps his gaze locked on Nerling. “My team will be up here soon, you have no chance of escaping. There’s only two of you.”

“Yes, yes,” Nerling says, waving his hand in the air as if shooing a pesky fly away. He stands from the desk and Batman carefully hides his tensing. He strides over to Nightwing and bends down, one hand falls onto Nightwing’s shoulder. Nightwing visibly tenses, but with the handgun pressing into his flesh, right between his jaw and neck, there is nothing he can do. “There’s only two of us, but… there’s only one of him.”

Batman scowls, knowing that this is where it would lead. A man like Nerling, with his charisma and business like way of leading and conquering, he would have no need of keeping Nightwing alive once Nightwing fell into his hands.

Taking Nightwing prisoner not only got rid of Blüdhaven’s persistent protector, but it also gave him a very good bargaining chip to use against the rest of the bats. Keeping Nightwing alive gave him an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. 

A very effective stone to say the least. Though, it’s nothing Batman hasn’t dealt with before. Nothing Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Damian, and Duke hasn’t dealt with before. Though, he must also remain careful. Getting confident just because he and his partners have made it out of hundreds of similar situations can make it so that this time it simply won’t be the case. 

“What do you want?” Batman growls. 

Nerling smiles and stands straight, but he keeps his hand mockingly on Nightwing’s shoulder. “It’s simple really. You and your friends return to our sister city, and Egior here doesn’t pull the trigger. You stay out of my way, and he’ll stay breathin’”

Egior grunts at the sound of his name, grins at the idea of pressing the trigger. 

“B, no,” Nightwing whispers, his voice soft and raspy from misuse. It sends Batman’s toes curling in barely contained anger.

“I’m not leaving here without him,” he says, making his voice forceful enough to leave no room for arguments. “You let him go, and we’ll leave you alone.”

Nerling scoffs. “Do you really think I’m that stupid, B-”

He cuts himself off with a scream, a metal bat shaped shuriken—or batarang as Nightwing lovingly calls them—sticking out of his shoulder, just next to his collarbone. He stumbles backwards and before Egior can do much, another batarang is thrown at his hand. Metal pierces flesh, and the weapon drops to the ground with a startled cry. Batman grins as a body lands next to him, a flick of a yellow cape.

“Yes, we do,” Robin says, grinning but his whole body shaking with an eagerness to fight.

The fight does begin, and it doesn’t last long, if anything it’s anticlimactic. It begins with Nightwing kicking out his legs and tripping up Egior. Batman throws a smoke bomb, and Robin rushes forward while he pulls out his sword. Only a couple punches are thrown, most of them are spent trying to knock down the brick wall called Egior, but within a minute and smoke clears, two unconscious bodies lay on the ground with their wrists and ankles zip tied. Batman stands up from Egior and Robin rushes over towards Nightwing who’s struggling to his feet, his hands still cuffed but moved during the confusion to the front of his body.

Batman’s heart flutters when he sees how Robin doesn’t even hesitate to wrap his arms around Nightwing’s waist in support. Nightwing smiles, it not quite reaching his eyes but enough so it could be considered genuine. “Took you long enough,” he wheezes. Batman doesn’t say anything, just strides forward and take Nightwing’s bruised hands in his own so he can work the locks. Once the cuffs fall to the ground, Nightwing lurches forward even with the support of Robin. Batman catches him by the shoulders and steadies him.

“It took us time to realize you were missing,” Batman says, lowering Nightwing to the floor. Robin backs away and mumbles that he’s going to check the restraints of “those heathens” as Batman attempts to get Nightwing in a comfortable position on the thinly carpeted floor. 

“S’alright,” Nightwing murmurs. “S’not your fault…”

“Awe man, did we miss the fun?” A new voice says and Nightwing’s smile widens. He looks past Batman’s shoulder to see Signal clad in yellow standing in the doorway with Black Bat a little behind him.

“Nah,” Nightwing says as Signal and Black Bat make their way into the room. Both look a little roughed up, but otherwise fine. Bat… Bruce wasn’t worried. Cass is here, after all.

Speaking of Cass, Dick weakly lifts a hand up and she reacts accordingly, their hands wrap in a sturdy hold around each other’s wrists. A catcher’s hold.

“Sorry I missed it,” he whispers and Bruce’s heart tightens. Dick would never forget a birthday, even while he was held hostage by a wanna be crime lord.

It’s hard to make out Cass’s expression with her mask, but her cheeks appear to sharpen and lift in what can definitely be considered a genuine smile. “Make up for it,” she says simply, and Dick chuckles in response. Duke joins in with his own laugh, Damian scoffs, and Bruce cant hide the small tugging of his lips.

Dick passes out on the way back to Gotham, though it’s because of exhaustion instead of any injury or fever, so Bruce let’s him sleep the entire way. Thankfully, Jason is there in the cave with Tim and Steph to assist in hefting Dick's dead weight out of the batmobile and into the med bay where Alfred’s already waiting with painkillers and band aids.

It’s amazing how the simple notion of Dick being in danger is enough to get everyone to the manor. Jason isn’t even complaining about being around Bruce, in fact he’s happily telling embarrassing stories about Dick from his early Nightwing days to the rest of the kids; Damian interrupts every so often to voice his outrage that Dick would grow a mullet or something similar. Bruce remains in the med bay, his hand carding through Dick’s tangled out hair.

Amazing.

Simply, incredible. 

[livsinpjs]

Believe in the Green Light (pt 2) the pursuing

“There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.” - F. Scott. Fitzgerald

The BAU team is called into Pasadena, California after the deaths of three lead to an investigation revolving around Gatsby, a new drug that hit the market at a dead sprint. When a raid on a house reveals the creator of the drug, a young man no one even knew was missing, Jason Gideon and co. find themselves involved in a case bigger than they originally thought.

It was cold. It was always cold though, so that was no surprise. His arms ached in their position raised above his head. His wrists were rubbed raw from his attempts at freedom from his shackles he had long since abandoned, his forearms crusted with old blood. If he closed his eyes, he could picture he was in a dungeon from one of the books his mother had read to him as a child. But the not so pleasant fantasy fell away every time his eyes settled on the lab equipment strewn throughout his concrete prison.

He had long since figured out Their intentions with him. He was a student at CalTech with a doctorate in chemistry already tucked under his belt among other degrees. He had no family to look for him and he was an easy target when it came to physically apprehending victims, so there was no use wallowing and questioning ‘why me?’ He knew why. They wanted drugs. More specifically, they wanted him to make drugs. Obviously, he knew right away when he awoke and his eyes first landed on the lab equipment 6 weeks 2 days and 14 hours ago. That didn’t mean he was eager to cooperate.

The first time he refused, They denied him food and water. After a couple days, he relented. Desperate to survive, he caved and created the first batch of Gatsby. After that, every time he refused, two big and  burly men came down into his prison to beat him within an inch of his life, leaving him bruised and bleeding with a “We’ll let you rethink your answer.” A few more days with no food and water and he would relent yet again. After going through that cycle a few times, he stopped refusing. He felt sick with himself for giving in so easily. He wanted to become an FBI agent, yet here he was, aiding Them.

He wondered, dejectedly, what the Academy thought when he didn’t show up. Probably that he had chickened out. He was sure he wasn’t the first person to enroll and then never show. He thought about Agent Gideon. He and Agent Gideon had become close in a fairly brief time. He had encouraged him and his ambitions. What did he think about him now? Was he worried? Disappointed? If only he knew where he was...

He shifted his position on the cold, hard floor trying to sit comfortably even though he knew it was useless. His chains clinked against the wall, his head throbbed and spun along with the little movement that he made. He knew he was in a dangerous position. Being this uncoordinated and forced to make drugs without proper care spelled loads of trouble. Mostly for himself.

One wrong move and he could kill himself in the process. Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. On several occasions the dark thoughts he naively assumed he had gotten rid of long ago would pop up again while he was working. He never let himself dwell on them for long though, he would push the thoughts to the back of his mind like he used to and think of his mother. Who would be there for her if he was gone? (Though he couldn’t be of much help to her from where he was currently.) He thought of the stories he and his mother would read together, and then his mind would helpfully wander through the many things his eidetic memory stored for him. Before he knew it They would thrust a cup of water and food at him, (which he would devour quickly and greedily) and he would be roughly escorted back to the wall and chained up yet again. They would leave him in the cold while they did who knows what with the monster he created.

Another thing to add to the ever growing list of awfulness that was his current circumstance, would be the fact that ever since he had been brought here, he had been on the verge of a meltdown. It’s not easy to calm yourself when you’re being held against your will, or stim when you’re chained to a wall. Everything was either too much or too little. He could do nothing to ease the ache in his chest. Even the stimming he could do was quickly shut down by Them. The frantic tapping of his foot or the insistent keen that would every once in a while escape his lips was deemed annoying by Them. He found himself forcing everything down; It was exhausting. He was surprised that he had been able to keep masking for so long.

In his haze, though, he had been hit with an idea so abruptly that he inhaled and choked on his own saliva. Yet once he was finished hacking and had caught his breath, a smile had been drawn to his face. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have quickly deduced that the idea was a stupid one. So many things could go wrong, or innocent people could get hurt, and really, if it did work, it wouldn’t help him in the slightest. But all he was focused on was the fact that he was in control of making the drug, and he was the only one there to make it for Them.

It was during this time, when he was rethinking what he had done, that They walked in.

He referred to them as Them because, well, he knew absolutely nothing about them. Well, that wasn’t true. He knew Maria from his philosophy class. He didn’t know if she was the reason he was here or if it was just a coincidence that her family was a part of some kind of drug cartel. But he also didn’t know Maria that well. The only thing he knew was that she went to the same school as him and they shared a class together. So he just found himself referring to them as, well, Them.

Two men, Maria’s father and brother, (he presumed by the similarities in their features) and Maria entered the room. The father gave him a disappointed look and for a brief moment, he felt ashamed of himself for disappointing the man. He quickly shoved the feeling off though. The brother looked like he wanted to rip his throat out, and he shrunk in on himself a bit at the glare he received. Maria’s face was expressionless.

“Ya got guts, I’ll grant you that much.” The father spoke to him as if reprimanding a child, instead of a captive. “Poisonin’ the latest batch of Gatsby like that.” He shook his head. “What I don’t get is how you thought doin’ so would help. You have no idea what we’re doin’ with it, or if we’re takin’ it ourselves. Even still, if we had taken it and had died, how would you escape? You would more quickly die of dehydration than be found by the athourites. And what would you accomplish by killin’ our clientele, eh? Other than puttin’ an even bigger target on your back for my men to aim at as they teach you once again, what happens when you defy us. Luckily for us, we have, erhm.. drug testers, if you will, who make sure the batch is clean before sending it out. Unluckily for you, my son’s friend happened to be testing the drug this time and has, unfortunately, passed away.”

The brother seemed to grow even angrier at the mention of his friend and stepped forward menacingly. The only thing keeping him from carrying out his wishes was Maria, holding his arm.

“So,” The father bent down to get on his level. “Would you care to explain to me just what exactly you thought you were goin’ to accomplish?”

He was terrified. He mentally cursed himself for making such an error in judgment. He registered, vaguely, that he had actually killed one of them. He couldn’t identify the feeling that engulfed him. The only thing on his mind at the time had been revenge. How stupid did he have to be to go through with something so idiotic? His eyes immediately snapped to the side, avoiding the man’s powerful gaze. He gulped painfully. The father sighed after a moment of silence, the only thing he could think of as his head spun was that the man’s breath smelled horrible; garlic and tobacco.

“Very well” The man stood, and his knees gave audible pops, “Go ahead and bring ‘em in.” The brother quickly exited the room and was soon being accompanied by two familiar men. They looked at him a little too eagerly as Maria and her father went for the door. “Make sure you keep him alive, we still need him after all.”

With that, Spencer Reid was left alone with three men who had only one thing on their minds. To cause him unimaginable pain.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

The team was gathered together on the jet; even Penelope Garcia was on their video feed, streaming from Quantico, Virginia. The technical analyst and the rest of their team had just finished going through their files one last time together before their Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner gave them their assignments.

“All right, once we land, Gideon and Morgan, you go to the crime scene and see if they’ve turned up any new information, then meet up with the M.E. Garcia, look into McCarthy’s background and criminal record, see if our Unsub could be someone he has bad blood with, and JJ, you’re with me at the precinct. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us, so go ahead and get comfortable.”

The team split off from one another, Garcia logging out and the rest going to separate areas of the jet.

Gideon sat alone, gazing out the window before pulling out his PDA. No recent emails. He returned the device to his pocket and shut his eyes, wanting to relax as much as possible before this case inevitably took up all of their time.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

Agents Gideon and Morgan arrived at the crime scene at around 5:00 p.m. There, they were greeted by local LEOs; Gideon went straight to analyzing the scene, leaving Derek to speak with them.

“I’m SSA Derek Morgan, and, that over there,” He pauses, indicating to the older man, “Is SSA Jason Gideon.”

“Detective Sanders, glad you could make it out here.” The men shook hands before Sanders continued. “My men and I received the call early this morning ‘round 7:00 a.m. CSI should be finished processing the crime scene by tomorrow.” Derek nodded, turning to see Gideon talk absently to an agent as his eyes expertly scanned the abandoned playground.

“What happened with the mugging four years ago? It says that they caught the guy, Gillian Murphy, and he’s still serving time."

“Well, the Arnold’s were visitin’ the park after Mr. Arnold had gotten off of work, Murphy attempted to mug the family and, after not getting the reaction he wanted, shot and killed them. He fled the scene and was found shortly after trying to sell the victims’ belongings at a local pawn shop.”

“What makes you think the two crimes are related?”

“Honestly, I don’t see any connection, but the mayor’s sister lives ‘round here and he insisted that we bring in the FBI ‘cause the crimes were both committed at this here park.”

Morgan nodded, shifting his stance to look over the detective’s shoulder to see that Gideon had moved to talk with CSI agents. “All right, let us know if you uncover any connections.”

Gideon had begun to walk back the way they had come, so Morgan matched his stride beside him as they moved towards their FBI sanctioned SUV.

“Find out anything new?” Morgan asked the older man as they stepped up to the car, Morgan taking the driver’s seat with Gideon in the passenger seat.

Gideon shook his head, “CSI found nothing out of the ordinary, a few beer cans and marijuana by the play structure. Looks like the victims were confronted by our Unsub. McCarthy met the Unsub a few feet away, leaving the Nooks next to the structure. What about you?”

“Nothing that points in the direction of these cases being linked. Sounds to me like it was more of an excuse to get us down here in the first place.” Morgan spoke dryly as he drove toward the Coronors’ office.

“Well, we’re here now, no use in gripping about it.” Gideon said wisely. Derek watched Gideon pull out his PDA, look at it, and then put it away, from the corner of his eye.

“You expecting something?”

“..Hmm? Ah.. no I was just checking my email..” Gideon said vaguely as he watched the road in front of him as they made their way to the Coroner's Office.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

At the precinct, Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner sat in front of his third possible witness since he had arrived at the precinct with JJ.

While JJ set up the room Pasadena P.D. had indicated to her, (setting up their evidence board and attempting to start a preliminary profile) Aaron got to work on interviewing people who had been in contact with Gatsby. The witness in front of him, Abigail Cooper, a disgruntled teenager with blonde hair and an obvious distaste for law enforcement, leaned back in her chair, arms across her chest and an attempt at an intimidating glare strewn across her face.  

Aaron quickly profiled the young girl. A look of distrust in her eyes and a defensive posture hidden by an attempt at nonchalance. A negative past with law enforcement, or men, or both. Her eyes glanced quickly over to the window and she had sat herself closest to the door. Aaron had to show this girl that he meant her no harm and that she would not be punished anymore than the charges she faced for possession of drugs and alcohol underage.

“My name is Aaron Hotchner, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” He began in a calm voice, looking her in the eye.

“FBI? Why’s the FBI here? I didn’t do anything that serious!” Abigail spoke incredulously, sitting up slightly with a questioning look on her face.

“I am here to ask you a few questions. Nothing more.” Aaron assured her, “Last night, there was a murder. Three men were killed and it seems that the crime may have a connection to a drug. A drug that you were found in possession of. Gatsby.”

“So? I didn’t kill nobody! Just because I had some with me doesn’t mean I’m a killer.” She tightened her crossed arms, which had been slowly falling due to the shock of being in the presence of an agent of the FBI.

“I never said you were.” Aaron said placating, “I am here because you may be able to help us find the person who did kill them.” He watched her shoulders relax slightly at that, her eyes softening slightly.

“Uh.. well.. all right..” She sat up, letting her arms fall to her sides. “What do you want to know?”

“I need to know any information you have on the person who sold Gatsby to you. A name, a phone number, an address that you met at, anything could be of help.”

A look of disappointment flashed across Abigail’s face. “I don’t know. No one does, really. People say that they find you. I was.. Uh.. drinking with some friends.. when he came up to us. Told us about this cool new drug. We’d heard about it around school and thought ‘why not’ Ya know? We paid him and he left and that was it.”

Aaron frowned but didn’t voice his disappointment. “Where was this?”

“Oh! Uh.. we were behind the Denny’s downtown, lots of people go there to dick around.”

Aaron nodded at her. “Thank you for your time.” He got up and went to leave the room to inform JJ when Abigail spoke up.

“Agent Hotchner?” Aaron turned around to face her, giving her his attention once more. “I.. um.. I hope you get the guy..” She said hesitantly.

“You were a big help Abigail.” He said, then he left to find JJ.

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

Hotchner had just finished filling Jennifer in when the phone on the table in their conference room went off.

“It’s Garcia. Hotchner, you’ve got me and JJ. What do you have?”

“Hello my pretties! All right, so, James McCarthy, 21, single and lives alone. He was arrested and sent to a juvenile detention center when he was 16 for shoplifting and possession of drugs and alcohol.” Garcia reported.

“Did he have any grievances with any of the other kids?” JJ asked, looking at the evidence board.

“No, actually he was very well behaved. He didn’t get into any trouble and it looks like he was even helpful when others were upset or angry. The workers there were really proud with the progress he made.”

“All right, thanks Garcia.” Hotch said with his arms crossed, looking down at the receiver.

“Of course! Garcia Out!” The line cut out.

A few minutes later, Gideon and Morgan walked in from the Coroners’ Office looking glum.

“Looks like all our victims had ingested Gatsby in the last 24 hours.” Gideon began, “Other than that, nothing new. All the victims died from their gunshot wounds and then were shot again post-mortem, some more than once.”

Morgan continued. “Also, there doesn’t look to be any correlation to these murders and the murders from four years ago.”

JJ sighed, still looking over the board. “It looks like we’ve got less to work with than we started with.”

“But it seems that this drug, Gatsby, is in the center of it.” Morgan said. “Multiple Gatsby related deaths, and now three murders involving the drug? Doesn’t sound like much of a coincidence to me.”

“It seems that the people dealing these drugs go out of their way to find people to sell it to, instead of having people go to them.” Hotch informed the rest of the team on his interview with Abigail Cooper.

“All right, so how do we find them?” JJ asked.

The team sat in thought for a moment. Hotch looked at JJ and she could see the idea pop into his head.

“I know exactly how.”

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

He was enraged.

He stood by the corner store, shoulders hunched and arms crossed. His foot tapping erratically. Her funeral was tomorrow. Her funeral . He stood and he tapped his foot. And he waited. And he waited..

~CRIMINAL MINDS~

That night, a man walked up to another, jittery man. He proposed something to him and beckoned him into the alley next to where they were standing.

Later, 10 shots rang out loud into the night.

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3| pt 4|

[xthefandomequestrianx]

Psycho - Chapter 1

I have no idea where to post this but I want to get it out of my folder!

A/N: Yes, I am aware that this is not quite how things happened chronologically. For the sake of the fic, we’re going to pretend that Elle went to Allie and begged to be arrested pretty soon after Dewey’s execution. Kay? Kay. Also I’m not a huge Will fan so he’ll be meh in this. Sorry.

Trigger warnings: injuries, torture, abuse, Campbell is a jerk, swearing because they swear like every line, slight mention of rape

Ship(s): Allie and pretty much everyone (platonically), Allie x Harry, Allie & Grizz (as a brotp)

Chapter 1

Allie winced as she felt a large chunk of her thumb nail rip off, before the stinging sensation of air hitting an open wound filled her senses. She’d been trying to wear through the rope tightly binding her wrists behind her back, but obviously had no such luck.

The day had started out normal, as any other day. She skipped breakfast in favor of a quick check up on Harry, whom anyone had yet to manage to drag out of his depressive state. After her doling out her tough love, he did start working again, though very reluctantly and lacking any effort. Then she’d gone back home and talked extensively with Will and Gordy about the issues of water and electricity - namely, how they would check if they were in danger of running out. Then lunch, where she had a nice conversation with Helena that for once did not revolve around politics. She’d only slipped away for a second to use the bathroom when suddenly he was there, knocking her out with a crowbar and stuffing her in his car.

And that was the quickly-escalating, climactic story of how she’d wound up in Campbell Eliot’s basement.

She knew why she was here, of course. He wanted to force Elle back home, where he could continue to control and abuse her. How he figured he would accomplish this by kidnapping her was uncertain, but she knew his end goal.

“Hey there, princess,” he traipsed down the steps into the basement. “Enjoying your stay?”

She glared at him. “I’m not your house guest, Campbell. You kidnapped me. Get to the point.”

“Feisty. Strong,” he smirked. “Every bit the leader. Except for this time, you get to be my captive. How does it feel?”

“What do you want?” she restated, biting out the words. Perhaps she was being dumb, speaking to him in such a tone while he clearly held the upper hand in this scenario. God, she wished for the Guard to notice her absence. But she’d only been awake for about fifteen minutes, plus about half an hour of being unconscious, she’d guess. Unfortunately, the former West Ham football team didn’t have enough experience in detective work to solve that one in forty five minutes.

“I am asking the questions, here!” He growled. “Tell me, Allie. How. Does. It. Feel?”

She caught a glint of something under his jacket sleeve. Brass knuckles. Fuck.

“Cold,” she said simply. He’d taken most of her outerwear, leaving her in leggings and a t-shirt.

“Not the answer I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. Was that so hard?” His smirk widened - the sick bastard was clearly enjoying this.

She’d been told he was a psychopath, heard the things he had done to Elle, and seen him be an asshole on more occasions than she could count. But this was an entirely new side to him that she had yet to see. It truly scared her, rattled her insides. The word psychopath gained a whole new meaning. “What do you want?” she repeated. Her voice trembled, but she pretended not to notice. The hot tears threatening to fall also went ignored.

“Fair enough - you answer one of mine, and I’ll answer one of yours.” He stepped towards where she was sitting on the ground. “I was going to tell you, anyways. I want a lot of things from you, Allie Pressman. You’re a whiny little bitch who only gets to lead us because of your dead sister. You’ve taken so much from me.”

She couldn’t believe that he actually had the nerve to play the victim card. Here, while she was tied up in his basement.

He continued. “But for now - all that I want right now - is my girlfriend back. You better return her to me.”

She glared up at him, trying to appear strong. “Never,” she spat.

The brass knuckles flew at her before she could even blink, crashing into her cheek and causing her head to snap to the side. It took her a moment to reorient herself, and she felt a trail of blood trickling down her face.

“You will do as I say,” he warned in a deadly tone.

She nodded. If she were a fighter, she would deny him, taking what she got and always standing strong. However she was a survivor, and while someone else might say that they were one in the same, that was simply untrue. A fighter fought until the end, while a survivor didn’t come to an end. Some called it intelligence and some called it cowardice, but she was a survivor. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked. She needed to keep getting information out of him - it was her best shot.

“You see, I need to send a message. Campbell Eliot is not someone to be messed with. You have taken from me the girl I love, who I swore to protect, and that’s not going to fly. I’m not going to kill you, Allie. You’ll only wish you were dead.”

She didn’t have time to respond as he kicked her hard in the side. She screamed as she felt something crack.

He tutted. “I thought you would be stronger than that. I guess you’re really just soft behind your big, bad Guard.”

“Fuck you,” she said, though her voice lacked gusto.

“Fuck you, too.” He kicked her again, this time in the back. “Sit up.”

She remained on the ground.

He stomped on her leg. “I said sit up!”

Doing her best to ignore the pain she felt, she slid herself back into a sitting position against the wall.

“You all need to know just how wrong you were.” The fist bearing the brass knuckles crashed into her jaw. “All of you.” He drove them into her stomach, so far that his fist was probably an inch from the wall she was sitting against.

She spat blood, praying for it to be due to the hit to her jaw rather than something internal.

He laughed, like he found all of this extremely funny. “You’re fucking useless, Allie. Do something! Sam’s fucking pet bird had more fight than you!”

She didn’t answer.

“Make this more fun,” he demanded.

She stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. What in the hell did he mean by that? She had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like it.

He groaned, as if she were causing him an inconvenience. “Jesus christ.” He roughly grabbed her forearm, hauling her to her feet and causing her to scream in pain. “You’ve got five seconds to run to that door at the top of the steps. If you make it, you can go. If you don’t, then we get to keep playing. How does that sound? Fair?”

She stared at him stonily. “Fuck. You. None of this is fair and you know it, even in your sick, psychotic brain.”

“Ready, set, go.” He released her arm, causing her to stumble forwards.

Luckily, she stayed on her feet. She didn’t want to play his stupid torture games. But if she had even a small chance of getting out… She ran.

“Four.”

She quickly found that her right leg didn’t work very well. She pushed herself on and from the amount of effort it took she felt like she should be running. She knew that it probably looked more like a drunken speed walk.

“Three.”

Halfway there, but she still had to tackle the stairs. She urged herself on.

“Two.”

Her heart pumped faster every time his voice echoed. The countdown was terrifying, as she raced to the door knowing what was to come if she didn’t make it.

“One.”

She was halfway up the stairs when he charged for her, grabbing her and throwing her back down them like a ragdoll.

Through her blurry vision, she longingly stared at the door. The tears flowed freely down her face now.

His form, towering over her, filled her vision. She tried to turn away, but he leant down over her, holding her face in his hand. His thumb wiped some of the blood off of her lip. His face got close to hers, far too close, and he whispered, “My plan doesn’t need for you to die, Allie. It just doesn’t depend on you being alive, either.”

Her breath hitched as she understood his meaning. He didn’t care if she survived this. In fact, he might just kill her for the fun of it. “They’ll hunt you down,” she whispered. “If you kill me.”

“Without you, the town would descend into chaos. They might come looking for me, but I have a backup plan. I thrive in chaos. Eventually, it would be me leading. But I’m not looking for that… just yet, at least. I. Just. Want. My. Girlfriend. Back.”

It took her foggy brain a few seconds longer than it should have to realize that he was undoing her pants.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Grizz says. “Fucking hell. How did we lose her? I thought at least one of us was supposed to be with her at all times!”

“We were,” Jason defended.

“Well she didn’t just vanish into thin air!” Grizz growled back.

Gordy groaned. “And no one has seen her?”

Luke shook his head, confirming. “Helena was with Allie last. She said that she had excused herself to the restroom and then never came back. After that, no one has seen her.”

“She should know better than to slip away without one of us,” Clark sighed, though he was more frustrated with themselves for not paying closer attention than with Allie for wanting to use the freaking bathroom by herself.

Gordy groaned. “This is bad. Why would she just disappear?”

Luke shrugged. “Helena said she was fine while they were talking. Even seemed happy.”

“What do we do?” Grizz asked, arms crossed.

They quieted. As they were only in the very beginning of forming a functioning government, they had neglected to come up with any sort of protocol for missing people. It had simply not been in their minds primarily due to the fact that no one had actually gone missing yet. Even back in West Ham, the old one, due to the upper class families residing there rarely had to deal with such matters.

“What do they do, like, on tv?” Clark suggested.

“They call the cops,” Grizz said.

“Dude,” Luke groaned. “We are the cops.”

Grizz nodded, realizing. “Well, fuck.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Jason said.

“Guys!” Clark said, sharply. “They usually have posters, bring in witnesses…”

Gordy’s eyes widened, a light bulb going off in his head. “A search party.”

The others nodded in approval.

“Okay,” Gordy breathed. “So we’ll assemble a search party and meet in the church. Okay?”

“Let’s go,” Luke agreed. They got to work.

Allie laid on the cold, hard basement floor. She wanted to think about how she would escape and get away from him. She wanted to think about running up the basement steps and sneaking through the house, successfully avoiding her captor and making it through the front door and then down the street before he went to check on her and noticed she was gone.

If she were the strong, smart leader she pretended to be then that’s exactly what she would be doing. If she were her sister.

But she wasn’t her sister. She wasn’t the brave leader guiding the town through their mysterious misfortunes. She was a young girl, doing her best to help people because she was told that it had to be her. So she lay still on the floor, pain filling her senses from inside out, the only thing she could feel. This was certainly a step up from when she broke her ankle as a kid, she thought humorlessly.

It must have been another twenty, thirty minutes before he came back down into the basement. She didn’t dread his return as much as she thought she should. Anything other than sitting alone with her pain and fear.

“Get up,” he ordered.

She whimpered in response. How did he expect her to do so, exactly? She’d inventoried the damage done to her body while she was alone. The pain in her side probably meant a broken rib or three, confirmed by the snap she’d heard when he kicked her. Her right ankle was broken, or at least sprained, and further down she registered pain in her toes. Her head still hurt, probably from the initial assault with the crowbar. Her face hurt, her stomach, and she could feel the bruises littered all over the rest of her body every time she breathed too hard.

“Get up!” he screamed. She winced for the blow, but it never came. Apparently he was satisfied with the injuries he had already caused her.

Against the protest coming from her body, she held her breath as she moved to a sitting position.

“Wow, Allie.” He smirked. “You look like shit.”

“Go to hell,” she inhaled sharply as her ribs moved.

He watched her struggle, and she disturbingly remembered the bird story Sam had shared from their childhood. She was the bird, and he was watching in amusement as her stubs where there used to be wings refused to fly her away. She hated playing the role in his twisted, sick game but was fearful of what he would do if she disobeyed.

She tried to stand, but was sent crashing back to the ground. “Up,” he demanded.

She tried again, this time with more success. But with a laugh and a kick to her left shin - the one bearing her weight - she was back on the ground. A sob rose in her throat.

“Get. Up!” He looked angry now, and she hurried to get back on her feet. It wasn’t working so well.

Impatient, he grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. He dragged her as she stumbled up the steps and out of the basement. He roughly caught her every time her body gave out and she nearly fell, shoving her back upright and continuing on. To her surprise, they exited the horrid house she hoped to never see again and he pulled her over to his car. The one he’d kidnapped her in.

“In,” he said. She did as she was told, with only a little reluctant assistance from him. He got in the driver's’ seat, starting the car.

“Wh-where are we going?” she asked.

He leaned across the center console, grinning. “To deliver my message, princess. You all have twenty four hours to return Elle to me, or I will come back. And I will kill you.”

The threat should have been terrifying, sending shivers down her spine. However the only thing she felt was relief. He was bringing her back home.

The search party met in the church, Gordy briefing everyone on the little bit that they knew. He looked around the room from where he stood in the front. Obviously, the Guard - Luke, Jason, Clark, and Grizz - were there in their matching jackets. Standing next to Luke was Helena, and behind her Kelly.

“Is that everyone coming?” Gordy asked.

“Everyone joining in the search,” Luke shrugged. “Everyone else knows that she’s missing and to keep an eye out.”

Gordy rolled his eyes. He knew that his hometown was filled with unmotivated, emotionally stunted slackers raised in the lap of luxury, however it had never been more apparent to him than it did in that moment. Maybe this New Ham thing was the universe’s way of giving them some much-needed character growth. It was certainly an idea he’d toyed with in the past, and he would’ve considered it longer if he actually believed in a higher power.

Another person slipped in the back, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and looking out of place.

“Come to help?” Gordy asked. All heads turned to see who he was addressing.

Harry nodded. “Kelly told me she was missing.”

Will stood up from where he was sitting. “I don’t trust him,” he glared at Harry. “How do we know that he hasn’t done something to her?”

Harry put his hands up. “I haven’t done anything. Really - I’m here to help.”

Will still looked skeptical, but Kelly ended the issue by saying, “Look, Harry’s barely been pulling himself out of bed long enough to work his shifts. I don’t think he has it in him to plan a kidnapping or whatever this is. No offense, Harry.”

Harry shrugged, “Slight offense, but not undeserved.”

Gordy snapped his fingers, directing their attention back to the issue at hand. “Okay, so here’s the plan…”

The sound of an engine revving outside drowned out the rest of that sentence, effectively drawing their attention away from the meeting. The sound was soon accompanied by a blaring horn.

“What the-” Helena stood from her seat, walking quickly to the door to see what was going on. The others followed, Luke jogging ahead to be with her at the front.

In the church parking lot was the familiar black jeep belonging to Campbell. And in the passenger seat sat the very girl they were searching for.

“Allie!” Grizz yelled.

Before they could react, the passenger door was opened and Allie was roughly shoved out onto the street, Campbell speeding away like a madman (which was actually very in character for him).

The group all sprinted over to Allie, who still hadn’t gotten up.

[awhitehead17]

Promise Me.

Kingdom AU, Batbros, Angst, Fights, Teen Rating, No Capes AU. 

Summary: The sacrifice Tim made so his brothers could get away.

A/n: So this is a continuation of my Kingdom AU. This one is more of a prequal to the last bit I wrote and it deals with what happened when the boys were on the run and how Tim came to be Ra’s slave. 

Enjoy! :D

They each tense up as the sheet they’ve hung up gets pulled back. A figure steps through and once they realise who it was they relax. It was just their brother, back from his little hunting trip.

“I only managed to get a few little bits and pieces guys. It got to a point where people were looking at me funny like they recognised who I was, I had to get away before they came to any conclusions.”

Their brother closes the sheet behind him and settles down on the floor in front of them as he opens up his side bag to show the goods he’s been able to get. The oldest of their group brings out one small loaf of bread, a couple fresh apples and pears, a few strips of bacon and a couple bottles of water.

It wasn’t a lot considering there’s four mouths to feed but between them they make it work. It certainly wasn’t the high quality of food they were used to but at least they weren’t starving. At least not yet. 

Tim pays his brothers no attention as he stares at the closed sheet behind the oldest. They had taken refuge in a small cave they had found and was using a bed sheet to cover up the entrance, it was there to give them some space and privacy. They were just on the outskirts of the kingdom now, so they were still in the danger zone of being discovered and taken back to the palace which means they still need to be careful.

They were on the run, hiding from the new king who had taken over the Wayne Kingdom. Their father, who once ruled the kingdom, was now dead thanks to this new ruler. His death was heavy on their hearts and chests, none of them taking it well to what had happened a few weeks prior to their situation now. Since then they’ve all become close as brothers and as a family.

The four of them, as princes to the throne, were forced to go on the run. It was either to run, to be held as captives and treated like slaves or be killed. They took their chances in running. They made their way through the kingdom, avoiding everyone like they had a plague simply because no one could be trusted. There was a bounty placed on each of their heads and none of them were risking it to seek help and shelter.

After the first couple nights on the run they came up with the plan of traveling south to the El Kingdom. They were good friends with the king and his family, some more than others, and going there to seek help and shelter seemed like the best idea. The El’s could be trusted and the four of them had hope that the El’s would be willing to fight for them in order to get control of the Wayne Kingdom back, to help kill the bastard who killed their father and who now calls himself king.

“Hey Timmy,” the calls gets his attention. Blinking he looks away from the sheet and over to his brother. “You gotta eat. Stop using that brain of yours and eat up. You need the strength.”

Tim frowns but looks down at the small pile that’s been placed by his feet. He picks up a slice of bread and starts to nibble on it. Silence settles over them as they eat, food was becoming a more precious thing each day. Before the attack on their kingdom they could eat whatever they wanted, they had all the wealth in the country but now they merely had scraps, having to go scavenging for food and water. The sad thing was that they all know that it’s only going to get worse from here onwards.

“So,” Jason starts looking at each of them, “How long do we think it’s going to take from here to get to the El’s?”

Dick shrugs, “It’s hard to tell, though from here it’s pretty much straight forward to there. While that sounds nice and easy, we’ve got to think about hiding, food and water. It’s not going to be an easy journey but we need to get there, the kingdom’s future is depending on it.”

Jason snorts, “This is ridiculous. This whole situation is just ridiculous. It’s not fair, what have we done to deserve this? We aren’t bad people. We cared for every single fucker in this kingdom, we did what we could for the homeless, tried to make the streets a safer place for the people to live and this is what we get!”

Tim feels the weight of his brother’s words rest heavy in his heart, knowing that he isn’t wrong. Dick sighs, “I know, but there’s not a lot we can do right now. What we can do is get to the El’s and ask for help. By now they’ve probably head about what’s happened, we just need to get there and make a plan.”

Jason shakes his head and mutters something unintelligible but otherwise remains silent this time. After that particular conversation there’s a heavy silence around them now. Tim looks away from Jason to the other two, Dick looks like he’s in deep thought and Damian was looking back at him. They make eye contact but don’t say anything. After a moment they look away from one another and Tim decides to focus back on the food in front of him.

“Guys! Guys! GUYS! WAKE UP!”

Tim shoots upright into a sitting position as the shout wakes him up. He blinks and looks around trying to get his bearings together. Next to him another a body moves into a sitting position.

“Jason? What’s wrong?” Dick’s voice was groggy from where he hasn’t woken up yet.

Tim, watches as Jason lunges forward and grabs Dick by the arm to hull him up onto his feet. He then proceeds to drag Dick out of the cave without any explanation.

“What’s going on? Where are they going?”

Tim turns to his younger brother and shrugs, “I have no idea. Somethings wrong because Jason’s panicking, he must have spotted something while on watch.”

Between the two of them they pack up their belongings (which wasn’t a lot at this point) and anxiously wait for their older brothers to come back. It’s a good five minutes before they appear again, both of them bursting into the cave wearing expressions of fear on their faces.

“We gotta go! Like right now. Let’s go.”

Tim shares a concerned look with Damian but quickly rises to his feet. Apparently he wasn’t quick enough because Jason surges forward, grabbing his own bag from Tim’s arm before grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the cave. Dick was right behind them doing the same to Damian. Once clear of the cave Dick rolls up the sheet and stuffs it into his own bag before grabbing Damian’s hand and leading them away.

Tim stumbles behind Jason, it takes a while but eventually he’s able to free his wrist from his brothers grasp and speeds walk to keep up with him. “Guys what’s going on, what’s with the sudden need to leave?”

“There are guards nearby. A lot of them. We need to get out of the area before they find us and trap us like birds in a cage.”

Tim doesn’t say anymore as Dick leads the four of them into the surrounding woods. Tim makes a mental note that they were in fact going in the direction they needed to go in to get to the El Kingdom however they don’t have enough supplies with them to last very long in the woods. That’s why they were hanging around the outskirts of their kingdom to begin with, it was just so they could have a chance to build up supplies before they enter the surrounding forest but obviously they don’t have that chance anymore. They’ll just have to make do.

“They’ve gone into the woods! Spread out and find them!”

The booming voice could be heard from somewhere close behind them. The four of them freeze in place as the order was shouted. They each share a wide eyed look because that wasn’t good.

“Someone must have seen us enter the forest.” Jason snaps at them, Tim knows that the real anger wasn’t actually at them but rather at the situation they’re now in. “There’s no way the guards would be this close to us already.”

“We need to keep going.” Dick tells them with a serious look. “We just need to keep moving, maybe we can out run them, find another place to hide until they give up.”

Jason opens his mouth to protest, before he could however another shout from behind them could be heard. “This way!”

After that the four of them waste no more time and carry on in the direction they were originally going, all of them hoping to make some space between them and the guards chasing them.

They run between trees, around bushes and even jumping over roots as they go, all of it in desperation to get away. They couldn’t allow themselves to be captured because who knows what fate is in store for them if they caught, it’d be anything from being forced into a slave or instantly killed.

They run for what seems like hours and when it seems like that they may have some leeway it turns out that they really didn’t, the guards weren’t far behind them at all. They could hear them shouting and orders being called, at times they could even hear footsteps right behind them and that alone showing how close they really were.

The four of them risk a break in order to catch their breaths. They hide behind a thick tree trunk and crouch down next to a large root that’s sprung up from underneath the ground. While they were all physically fit, running for countless of hours was really starting to catch up to them and in result they pass around one of their precious water bottles as they get control of their breathing.  

“This isn’t working.” Jason growls out between deep breaths. “We aren’t losing them at all, they’ve been on our tails from the very start! We need to do something, come up with a plan to try and get rid of them, or at least something that’ll give us a chance to get a head start. Maybe we could set a trap?”

Dick shakes his head, “There isn’t enough time Jason, as much as I would love to trap them and get away we just don’t have the time to set a trap up. They’d catch us before we even finish it.”

“Well we have to do something!” Jason exclaims getting in Dick’s face.

At that point Tim blocks his older brothers out as they start bickering about what they should do in this situation. Of course arguing isn’t helping them at all right now but Tim just lets them do it because it seems like the eldest two need to release some anger and tension.

Tim turns his attention to their surroundings. The woods were like any other woods, tall trees around them, thick roots erupting from the ground and a mixture of green, yellow and brown leaves were everywhere. The weather was surprisingly alright, it was dry and warm so at least they weren’t traveling (running) in the rain and getting drenched.

Another shout from the guards chasing them gets his attention. He turns desperately to his brothers to find them now glaring at one another.

This wasn’t good. At this rate they would all be captured and all the running they have done would have been all for nothing. Jason was right, they did need a plan of action or at least something! They could keep running but with the way things are looking they’ll be closed in on within an hour or so.

In that moment Tim gets an idea. It’s one that he certainly isn’t fond of, one that he knows his brothers will protest greatly against but it’s one that may work for what they need it to.

“I’ve got an idea.” He blurts out, successfully gaining the attention of his brothers. They all stare at him wide eyed, both in confusion and in question. Tim stands up and takes off his bag, he shoves it in Damian’s arms before making serious eye contact with them all. “It should work as long as you three stay hidden and make a run for it when the time is right.”

“Wait what?”

“What on earth are you on about?

“Us three? Tim?”

Tim glances around the forest yet again, this time the yelling and footsteps were getting louder, they’re getting closer and time was running out.

“Just promise me…” he starts, his voice almost breaking as he speaks, “Just promise me that you’ll make it to the El Kingdom.”

That’s when it finally clicks in his brothers about his idea. As predicted they weren’t happy. “Aw hell no. That is not happening Tim. There is no way you’re sacrificing yourself so we can make a getaway. No way in hell.”  

Tim shakes his head, making eye contact with Jason, “There is no other option! We’re running out of time!”

Jason stands up and grabs his arm, his grip is unforgiving and his glare is actually frightening. “Not a chance in hell.” His brother growls out at him. “There’s always another option, we are not losing you too.”

Tim could feels the tears building up behind his eyes from the overwhelming emotions of the situation at hand. He looks away from Jason to Dick and Damian who were staring up at him with conflicted expressions. He turns back to Jason and rests his hand against Jason’s on his arm.

“Please Jason, you gotta let me go. This is the only option, just promise me, promise me, that you’ll get to the El Kingdom, convince Kal-El to fight with us and then come for me and save our kingdom.” Tim’s voice was shaking from where he’s keeping his emotions at bay, he wouldn’t let himself break, not now. He needs to be strong, strong for his brothers, strong for the Wayne Kingdom.

Jason shakes his head in protest, however when he speaks his voice has lost its bite that it was laced with just moments ago, his voice was now begging him. “Please Timmy, don’t do this. We can find another way…”

Tim works Jason’s fingers off of his arm before giving his brother a hug, knowing this could be the very last one he’ll ever get from him. Jason immediately clings onto him. It’s too soon when they break apart but time was short, a lot shorter than Tim would like it to be.

Moving away from Jason, Tim goes over to Damian, he gives his younger brother a quick squeeze, whispering “Please be safe, keep those two in check for me and I’ll see you on the other side,” into his ear before letting go. Damian doesn’t say anything back to him, instead his younger brother gives him a firm nod. Tim certainly doesn’t miss the way Damian wipes his eyes as he moves away from him.

Lastly he goes over to Dick, like with the others he wraps his arms around his eldest brother and clings on tightly. Tears were threatening to fall down his face but Tim doesn’t let them, he will not cry, not in front of his brothers. Not at a time like this. As he clings onto Dick he says, “I’ve got to do this. It’s the only way. I hate it but it’s the only option.”

“I know, Timmy, I know. I hate it too.” Dick’s voice was horse, like he was just barely keeping himself together in these last desperate moments together. “I love you little brother don’t forget that.”

“Promise me Dick, promise me you’ll get there.”

“I promise.”

Finally hearing those two words Tim moves away from Dick, letting the older man go and before any more could be said Tim turns around and jumps over the tree root they had been hiding behind and runs out into the open space of the forest.

The footsteps he had been hearing were even closer now than before, making a quick decision Tim moves behind a different tree several feet away from where his brothers were hiding. He hopefully can make a big enough distraction for them to use so they could get away.

Tim anxiously waits behind the tree, waiting for the right moment to strike, the plan he has in mind is to simply attack the set of guards that walk past him. As he waits he decides to grab a nearby branch and holds it up like a bat. He’s going to need all the help he can get while pulling this stunt, he just hopes that his brothers do what they promised him and make a break for it instead of jumping in and attacking the guards themselves.

Soon enough Tim’s first victim passes by the tree he was using as cover. Jumping out from behind it Tim swings the branch and clocks the guard in the head, he falls limp to the ground unconscious. Having the advantage of a surprise attack Tim’s able to get three more guards down by the time they get their wits about them and start fighting back.

“We’ve found one! He’s here, get the Master!”

Tim ignores the shout as he launches his own punches and kicks to the guards now surrounding him. Thank god for the self-defence training Bruce had made him take because it’s actually being useful right now.

Unfortunately this small victory he was having doesn’t last very long because moments later a kick to his stomach winds him, causing him to double over. After that a punch to the side of the head causes him to collapse onto the floor. From there hands were instantly on him, manhandling him around until he’s pinned on his stomach on the cold, leaf covered floor of the forest. His arms were pinned above his head, multiple hands pin his legs down to the ground and there was one set of hands pinning his hips down.

He struggles against their holds and at one point he does manage to break one arm free and sucker punch a guard in the eye but he was quickly overpowered and that arm was pinned back down to the floor, this time even harder. Despite how useless it is he continues to squirm and fight against them. He’s not giving up so easily.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

The voice makes Tim freeze on the spot, the voice that was speaking sends chills down through his body which causes goose bumps to appear over his arms. Tim knows that nothing good will come from the person whom is speaking to him.

He’s completely unprepared for fingers to tightly grip his hair and yank his head up in a ruthless manor that he lets out a hiss of pain. Clenching his teeth together Tim glares at the face that appears in front of him. The man who has a hold on him is glaring back through one eye in a calculating manor, the other was covered with an eye patch and his lips were curled in a sinister smile

Tim swallows thickly as he looks at the man in front of him. He doesn’t know him and doesn’t even recognise him.

“So we’ve manged to capture Prince Timothy. Ra’s will be happy that we’ve managed to catch at least one of them.”

Tim carries on glaring at him, instantly hating him. He squirms against the hold, trying to once again break free but the hand in his hair somehow tightens its grip and suddenly his face was being slammed against the ground. The collision makes him stop moving as pain explodes in his skull, unable to help it he lets out an agonized sound.

The hand in his hair finally lets go and Tim allows his head fall to the ground, no longer bothering to try and escape. His head was now pounding which makes it hard to focus and his body was starting to ache from where he’s being held down.

“Let’s get something straight Timothy,” the man in front of him says, “You now belong to the king and any attempts at escape will be dealt with in punishment.” Tim’s vaguely aware of the man turning away from him and as he addresses the guards he’s with. “Now then, we’ve wasted enough time as it is so I will take him back to the palace while most of you carry on hunting the others. I will join you as soon as I have claimed some of my reward.”

There’s more commotion going on around him but Tim doesn’t pay it much attention as the pounding inside his skull was taking away all of his focus. He does however notice when all of the restraining hands let his limbs go but before he could even move, his arms were being forced down behind his back and he feels cold metal brushing against his wrists before it suddenly becomes painfully tight around them. Handcuffs, his pain addled mind supplies.

Tim is then being dragged up onto his feet. The sensation of suddenly being up straight causes a wave of vertigo to go through him and he would have fallen over if it weren’t for the hands holding tightly onto him. Just as he was getting his head around that there was as piece of fabric being forced over his mouth and between his teeth. He lets out a sound of protest when it’s tightened and is made into a gag. He bites into the fabric hard and glares at the eye patch man still in front of him.

“Unfortunately, I can’t restrain your legs as I need you to walk, but…” the man then pulls out a knife and holds it up menacingly to Tim’s face, he could feel the sharp point of it being traced lightly over his skin. The touch of the knife makes him nervous but he doesn’t let it show, instead he continues to glare at the man as he continues to taunt Tim with the weapon.

“I’m sure that you’re not going to try and run away because if you do there will be consequences and it’s safe to say that I’m not afraid of getting messy. The king wants you alive but he didn’t say anything about not harming you during the process.”

The knife disappears but Tim doesn’t relax as Eye Patch was still glaring and sneering at him.

“Now lets go before we waste any more time.” He barks at the guards around him. The hands on Tim disappear and he’s roughly shoved forwards in the silent message of get moving. Tim does as he’s told to knowing that there wasn’t a way out of this. Eye Patch was clearly happy about using force in order to get him to co-operate and Tim really didn’t fancy testing those waters.

As he walks forwards with a gag tied around his mouth and his hands handcuffed behind his back all Tim can think about is his brothers and their safety. Hopefully they’ve made use of Tim’s distraction and have made enough of a gap to give them a good chance of getting to the El Kingdom without getting caught. Hopefully they’ll pull through with their promise and in the future they’ll come with the El Kingdom and fight back so they could reclaim the Wayne Kingdom as their own.

Tim has faith in his brothers and what they’re capable of, all it is now is a matter of time in how long it’ll take them to get to the neighbouring kingdom and how long it’ll take them to come to his rescue.

[cookieswriting]

Can’t Be Happening Pt. 2 (SEAL Team)

So yeah...this is gonna be a few more chapters than just the 2 I originally anticipated.  Kinda got away from me *shrugs* ooooh darn. Bit of language and violence in this chapter.

“Why the hell are we not going after these sons of bitches right fucking now?! Did we not all just watch the same fucking video?! Clay doesn’t have time for us to twiddle our thumbs and wait for the cake-eaters to weigh the costs of going after one of our own!” Sonny paced restlessly, images of his brother being manhandled by Doza’s men replaying across his mind.

Jason stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder and steady stare.  “We can’t just go in guns blazing and expect him to still be alive when we make it to him, Son...we need to figure out exactly where he is and what we are going to do before we can get him back.  Let’s focus on that in the meantime, deal with the red tape if it’s still there when we have a plan, yeah?”  Sonny held his gaze for a long moment before relenting.  Jason nodded and turned back to the computer screen with a steadying breath. “We need to watch it again.  Captain, I need your men to identify anything that can help us determine where they are.”  He turned to Davis and Mandy.  “You don’t need to stay in here for this…”

Despite the tears in their eyes, both women stood firm.  “Not going anywhere, Bravo One,” Davis murmured.  Sonny found himself wanting to reach out to take her hand, both to give and take comfort as the hostage video featuring their youngest teammate began to play from the beginning.  Even before they pulled the hood off, the Texan could read the tension in Clay’s posture, could hear the hitch in his breathing.  Not to mention the blood staining his white Mexico shirt meant to cast him as a tourist.  Even before the bastards started filming, they’d done a number on the kid.  

And yet, once the hood was removed and he was forced to his knees, he refused to give any sign of faltering. Even when they punched him multiple times and yanked his head back by his sweat-matted curls, Clay refused to cower or beg for help.  When the video first came to their attention, the Mexican Marine captain had translated for them, relating Doza’s demands for money, release of cartel leaders, and their immediate departure from the country.  Watching it again, seeing the abuse his brother was suffering for him, spiked Sonny’s rage once again, and he turned and punched the nearest wall.  Trent pulled his arm back before he could strike again, and restrained him against his own chest.

“Easy, brother, this isn’t going to help Clay.  We’ll get the chance to make these assholes pay for this, we’ll bring our boy home, but if you break your hand you’re not going to be able to do much good for him.  Hold off on letting out that anger til we’re face to face with Doza and his men.”  After a few steadying breaths, Sonny backed down and forced himself to sit down.  Brock squeezed his shoulder, and they all turned to the local force as the video ended.

“This is a building in the center of Doza’s territory.  It will be very difficult to get to your man without him being alerted to your presence, and then your man will be killed anyway.”

“That’s not gonna cut it,” Jason replied, anger simmering just under the surface.  “How do we get to this son of a bitch and get my man out?”

“He has eyes everywhere, Master Chief. I’m sorry, I do not believe that it will be possible.”

“The brass Stateside isn’t going to green-light the rescue if we don’t have some kind of plan, Captain. We don’t need much of a chance...we just need something.  Please,” Mandy implored as the men grew more agitated and restless.  She took a slow breath, knowing her next words would not go over well with them.  “He deserves for his brothers to bring him home, whether this is going to be a rescue or a recovery.”  At that, Davis ducked out of the command center.  No one could deny her statement, though...they’d all seen the blood on Clay’s face, the tension and awkwardness in his posture that only they would recognize as signs of agony.  If they didn’t get to him fast, Clay Spenser would not survive his captivity, no matter how stubborn he was mentally.

The young SEAL in question was dragged from unconsciousness by the persistent stabbing pain of his abused muscles being strained, chained overhead until his now-bare feet barely touched the ground.  They’d used him for a ransom video for the American government, which he knew would have the guys up in arms.  As he hung...wherever they were, Doza’s men shouted demands at him in Spanish; questions about Naval intelligence, border protection weaknesses...the ususal.  

“Please,” he whimpered, emphasising his pain and exaggerating his desperation.  “I don’t know what you’re saying...I don’t know what you want.  I...I’m just a tourist…”

One of the men was suddenly in his face, and reached around to grab his hair roughly when the blonde flinched away.  “You were awfully calm during our little message for just a tourist.”

“I-I couldn’t understand a word you were saying, and it hurt to even breathe, man...I didn’t want to make it worse! I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want from me...please just let me go!” Fresh pain erupted across his cheek as his captor punched him again, and it took everything in Clay not to bite out a sarcastic comment.

“I don’t believe you.  My friends here don’t believe you.”  The man stepped back and drew a long serrated-edged knife.  “If you don’t give us answers, you are going to die a very painful death.  Do you understand me?”

Clay summoned as much fear as he could, and tears burned his eyes.  Well shit, this is gonna hurt…“Please!  Please, no, I don’t know what I could possibly tell you!”

“You were with US military agents working with the Marinas.  Tell me where there are weaknesses at your borders!”

“I wasn’t, I swear! I’m just on vacation from grad school! Nonono please-” The blade didn’t hurt so much as it sank into his right flank just under his ribcage.  No...it was the catching of the serrated edge as it was drawn back out that had Clay crying out and ready to sink into oblivion again.  

“Oh no, my friend, you do not get to escape just yet.  Tell me where your team is and I will end your suffering quickly.”  Clay sobbed through the pain, grateful for his ‘innocence’ cover giving him the excuse not to play tough.  Hopefully my team is getting your sorry sonofabitch boss Doza and this isn’t for nothing…

Jason looked up when Blackburn slammed the phone down, anger and frustration evident on his face before the Lieutenant Commander dragged his hand over it.  “There is no way in hell they denied us going after Clay,” Hayes growled.  All eyes turned to the officer, who sighed heavily.  

“They are saying the usual...we do not negotiate with terrorists and our team is too close to get him out without letting things get personal.”

“Any team they send would make it personal,” Brock muttered, petting Cerberus to calm himself down.  “Friggin’ cake-eaters don’t understand the concept of brotherhood.”  He looked up around the room.  “So how are we going to do this?”  Sonny and Trent nodded, and Ray leaned against the desk with forced calm.

“Blackburn, if you need to leave for plausible deniability-”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere,” Eric snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “By the time they would send another team down, if they even plan to, Spenser would probably be dead.  We are going after him now, and we will deal with repercussions later.  Captain.”  He turned, surprising his Mexican counterpart.  “What do we have?”

“You are going to disobey your superiors?” Garcia questioned.  

“As I said, there is not time to wait for a new team to arrive, and my men are considered the best for a reason.  We do not leave any teammate behind under any circumstance.” The Mexican Captain looked to each of the Americans for a long moment before nodding with a grim smile.

“You know the guys would never leave you behind.  They’ll come for you soon, baby...you’ve just got to hold on a little bit longer, okay?  Stay with me.  I’m right here.”  The comforting, familiar scent of Stella’s shampoo filled Clay’s nostrils, and he wanted nothing more than to nuzzle into her hand, warm and comforting on his cheek.  

The second he shifted his head, though, agony seized his entire body, and the young SEAL was jarred back to reality.  Stella...Stella wasn’t with him.  Thank God for that, Clay thought to himself.  Even though it hurt to remember that Stella had broken things off with him before they’d shipped out to Mexico, the thought of her being with him in this hell-hole made him nauseous.

Or maybe that was the hole in his gut, the probable concussion, the fact that his arms were screaming at him as his feet began to cramp trying to hold his weight on his toes.  He knew without a doubt that his brothers would come for him, but found himself beginning to doubt that they’d make it in time for a rescue.  The blood soaking his side was enough for him to worry about, and explained how lightheaded he was.  If he was hallucinating, though...must be closer to the end than I thought.  

“Oh, our blue-eyed friend is back in the world of the living!” Clay tried to lift his head, suddenly feeling like it weight two hundred pounds, and clenched his jaw to fight back the bile rising in his throat as the room spun.  “Well, mas o menos...hey! We’re not done with you yet, man! You can tell me all you want that you’re just a tourist, but I am calling bullshit, so wake your ass up!”

No matter how hard he tried to comply, Clay couldn’t gather the strength to move more than his eyes.  The cartel thug in front of him became increasingly annoyed and started ranting in Spanish, but the blonde’s mind was too sluggish to translate.  A sudden crack accompanied an explosion of agony in his left leg, which no longer bore his weight.  His already-strained shoulder gave out with the lurch of added weight, and Clay lost his battle against throwing up.  

Time stopped making sense after that.  Any moment of awareness was overshadowed with black dots dancing across his vision, and anything that they might’ve been saying to him was completely lost.  Every inch of his body was pain...his wrists, chafing from the shackles. His left shoulder, at least dislocated.  His face, beat to hell. His abdomen, still leaking.  His left leg, probably broken, right cramping from bearing his weight.  It was a miracle that he was still conscious, let alone breathing.  

The distorted sound of gunfire erupted around Clay, and lights flashed in his eyes.  Shouts were abruptly cut off, and Mexican Marina camo filled the room.  Sonny’s face filled his field of vision, and Clay was sure he’d started to hallucinate again.  “We’ve got you, brother...just hold on a little bit longer...gonna get you home...take you down first...gonna hurt…” His brother’s voice kept cutting in and out, probably along with Clay’s consciousness.  Did that mean they were really there?

“So...Sonny...please...don’t let Stella...blame herself,” Clay breathed, breath catching as they moved him.  Not a hallucination then...his brothers had really come for him.  He knew they were bracing him to bring him down from the chains, but couldn’t work up the strength to warn them about his potentially broken leg, so when they did ease him down and his foot touched the ground, the stab of pain sent him back into oblivion.

[sasspiria]

Twin Devils - Chapter 5

Tags: Kidnapping,Isolation,Blackmail,Brainwashing,Drug Use,Burnplay,Stockholm SyndromeDubious Consent,Canon-Typical Violence,Slavery,Power Imbalance,Sex for Favors,Captivity,Fingerfucking,Forced Orgasm,Forced Relationship,Threats of Violence,Dark,Rimming,Rough Sex,Human Trafficking,Drug Addiction,Drugged Sex,Minor Character Death,Mental Breakdown

Summary: In which, instead of deciding to have Jason killed, Hoyt decides that he's worth more alive to him than he is dead. With a proverbial knife at his brother's throat as well as the throats of all of his friends, Jason agrees and he becomes little more than Vaas and Hoyts' pet killer.

Pairings: Jason/Vaas, Jason/Hoyt

(Read here or below the cut)

Ethan Wexler was having the worst vacation of his life. He had been strong-armed by his girlfriend and the rest of his friends into a skydiving trip, that he had never even wanted to go on in the first place and come to find that it was some sort of human trafficking scheme.

He had woken up with one of the men sitting outside of his cage, taunting the lot of them by sadistically telling them what would happen to them if their families didn’t come up with the money they wanted. Ethan was sure that even if they got the money, they would still be killed or sold. His outlook on the entire situation at hand was bleak but he tried to keep on a strong face on for the sake of his friends. It was getting harder and harder for him to do that every single day that he was tied down in these bamboo cages.

There was a man who would regularly torment them with a sadistic sort of sureness to it – a man with a mo-hawk wild look in his kohl stained eyes. He didn’t seem to care much about the state of the people that were in the process of being sold off into slavery, torturing all of them for the hell of it every single day. Just last night he had dragged Ethan and another prisoner out of their cages held them at gunpoint and forced them to fight each other until the other was unconscious. Ethan won the fight, but just barely. He was still bleeding in several places, and one of his eyes was so bruised and swollen that he could barely see out of it. Still. He had won. And that was all that counted right now, wasn’t it?

Lately, someone else had come to watch over them, a young man – similar in age, height and build to him, dressed in a dirty and worn out blue V-neck and khakis. He had the look of a tourist like he should have been on the other side of these cages – that watched over all of them with a detached sort of indifference. He didn’t say a word, didn’t bother to torment them, just watched until the maniac came back to torment them. He also seemed to have some sort of connection with this man. He would grope him and murmur things in his ear and he would smile back at the pirate seemingly in earnest until his back was turned a dour expression would take over his features.

Out of curiosity, he asked one of the other prisoners – an older man who seemed to be a native of the island – who had been sitting in that cage since he had been thrown in there with him if he knew who he was. The older man let out a derisive, hateful sort of scoff, “That’s Snow White.” He said, spitting out the derogatory sounding moniker like it was poison on his tongue. “He almost overturned Hoyt’s trafficking ring, a few months back, now he’s Vaas’ bitch.”

He could see that, he thought, but still found it odd and asked why someone would do that. The native prisoner did not take kindly to that and spat on the ground in his distaste. “Doesn’t matter why he did it. Don’t care why.” He shook his head, “He sold all of us out to Hoyt, killed our head priestess and put us all in chains.” His tone of voice was acidic, hateful. “He’s a traitor, he should burn for what he’s done.”

From there on out Ethan Wexler started watching him – more to quell his own boredom and the sense of impending doom that had been taking over him than anything else – and taking note of the routine that he seemed to keep. It was always the same, around midday, he would be led around the camp as the man he would soon find out was named Vaas would patrol around antagonizing and torturing all of the prisoners in their cells.

Usually, after Vaas would finish his “rounds,” he would go looking for Snow White and come back around – with an arm over the others’ waist, holding him in a possessive grip as they walked around the camp until they would eventually leave the prisoners on their own for the night. That was usually how it went until Jason had been given the trust to watch over them and only then would they be allowed some relief from the usual torments that Vaas and his cohorts put upon them.

The times that Jason was in charge of watching them, the prisoners finally felt like they could relax. He would usually keep some distance from the cages and not bother coming towards them for any other reason than to bring their daily meals, or in the case of some kind of emergency.

Like when one of the pirates had cut up the leg of one of the girls in the cage across from his own and he’d come in and made sure that it stayed uninfected, grumbling the entire time under his breath like he was loathe to be there in the first place. He didn’t seem to want to be in the camp at all, when he thought about it, but he never bothered to even try and leave and it made the prisoners wonder what he was even doing with the pirates, when he seemed to hate being associating with almost all of them except their leader, Vaas.

And even with Vaas, his affections towards the pirate king seemed like it was a put on more than anything else. Jason’s role in the camp was a mystery to them, and they had so little fodder to entertain themselves that it became their first and only source of entertainment to talk in hushed whispers about him. If Jason noticed this or was bothered by it, he didn’t look like it or make any mention of their seeming obsession with him.

After enough days of Jason taking shifts watching them – with only about a handful of pirates hanging around the camp as backup protection – that Ethan came up with a plan to escape the camp. Around the same time each day that Jason was made to watch the camp, he would disappear for quite some time. Usually, the rest of the camp would be sparse too, sparse enough that – if he could manage to get out of his cage in time – he would be able to make it out of the camp. But he would have to do it alone.

He couldn’t bring risk bringing any of his newly made friends in the cage – Nick and Sarah – or search out the rest of his friends that had been kidnapped along with him. No, he would have to get himself free first and then he could get help. Real, professional help. Capable people, that could do so much more for them than he would ever be able to.

As soon as Ethan finally got the perfect chance to make it out of the camp, he took it immediately, not caring if his failure meant death. He didn’t want to know what end that staying in the cage and passively waiting would mean for him. He managed to get himself untied and out of the cage just fine and he figured that the rest would be easy and it almost was. No one noticed that he was gone until he was at the very edge of the camp, it was just rotten luck that the hill facing where Ethan was running off to was just the place that Jason liked to sit and meditate to ground himself.

Jason sighed as he noticed the young man in torn clothes running down the hill, so close to the edge of the island that he could actually escape. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath, wondering if he could just pretend not to notice that he had run off. He really didn’t want to be in the business of hunting down escaped prisoners. It felt like it was below him, to be chasing them down, and in another way, it felt like it was wrong. That he was doing something horrible and wrong by actively reinforcing the oppressive system that Vaas and Hoyt had them all trapped and subjugated beneath.

Jason wondered if he could get away with pretending not to see him running off, let him try his luck in the jungle. Maybe he would even make it to what was left of Amanaki Village and start the cycle all over again with the smattering of oppressed natives that were still alive, struggling to keep themselves safe and huddled away from Hoyt’s malicious intentions and predatory attention.

He sighed and closed his eyes as he let out a shaky breath. Debating with himself about it – if he decided not to go after him, the pirates around the camp might find out about it and then Vaas would be angry with him. But if he did, he would be just that much more complicit in the human trafficking on Rook island. In the end, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the first place and he quickly armed himself and ran off in the escaped prisoners' direction.

Jason was a quick runner. He had always been incredibly athletic and his time on Rook had ensured that he had a lot of practice with it as well. So it was really no trouble for him to catch up with a prisoner that had been beaten and given very little food and water. Once he was within grabbing distance of Ethan, he snapped at the escaped prisoner to turn around and stop running.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t expect Ethan to put up any sort of fight, but he thought that it was fair to give him some sort of fighting chance. Ethan scrambled to get away and Jason fired off a warning shot, shooting right next to his foot. “I told you to stop running.” He said in a calm, authoritative tone of voice. “There isn’t any good end to this.” He added, hoping that he could convince him to come back quietly. He doubted that he would be successful, but it was the best option that he had. “I don’t think that anyone knows you ran off.” He explained, “You could just- look, no one has to know. No one would get hurt if you just come back.”

“If you think I’m coming back there, then you’re just as crazy as they are!” Ethan blurted out as he edged away, scooting back on his butt away from Jason’s purposeful stride towards him. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud – and he couldn’t have known how Jason would react to it – but he surely had not expected Jason to launch himself at Ethan, toppling the two of them over.

Ethan tried to fight back against the other and they wrestled around for some time until Jason was able to take his handgun out and shoot him in the left leg and the left arm, immobilizing him and leaving him in an incredibly pained state.

Jason huffed out in several staccato breaths, anger overtaking him as he noticed the way that the escapee was looking at him. Like he was dangerous, like he was a monster and worse like he was a crazy person. “Stop looking at me like that!” He snapped, before he fell into a rage, his hands wrapping around the younger man’s throat and squeezing tight until the wet, choking gasps of the escapee under him filled his senses.

“I am not crazy. I’m not.” He babbled, tone bordering right between righteous fury and desperate fear like he was afraid of himself, afraid of what he could be pushed to do in any given moment. He sounded both hysterical and out of breath like he was on the precipice between sanity and insanity.

It was terrifying and all Ethan could do was plead with his eyes for the man not to kill him right then and there. “Don’t- stop looking at me like that!” Jason snapped, pushing down tighter on his throat, compressing his air flow until the hostage was looking up at him with tear-filled, terrified looking eyes as his body went into fight or flight mode. Ethan desperately clawed at Jason’s hands – focusing all of his time and energy on pure survival. His heart caught in his throat and he began to hyperventilate, sobbing uncontrollably as the reality that he might die right now came to him.

Jason didn’t realize just what he was doing, he was so incensed at the idea that someone was looking at him like that. Like he was some kind of crazy person and he hated being judged like that. “I fucking told you to stop looking at me like that. You are…you’re nothing. Nothing.” He seethed in a deadly quiet tone of voice. “I could kill you right now, and it wouldn’t – it wouldn’t matter. You don’t matter.”

Moment by moment of silence had Jason gradually calming down. He took his hands from Ethan’s throat, as if he had been in a trance, and shallowly delighted in the fact that the escaped prisoner wasn’t saying anything back now. He was quiet as a mouse. Probably terrified of what Snow White could do when he was angry. Jason had no doubts that he would come back quietly now, he would be too afraid to do anything else, he thought grimly.

Jason shook the prisoner below him, “Get up.” He snapped, thinking that the young man was faking it. He growled in frustration, “You’re only making things worse for yourself.” He warned, some of his resolve crumbling down as he looked at his face, inspecting him. His skin was pale and sickly looking and his glassy eyes were left wide open and his tongue stuck out, flat against his chin like a dead fish.

It was disgusting and Jason jumped back as he took the image of him in. Disgusting. He stepped back once, twice and then a third time to try and distance himself from the corpse in front of him. “I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean that.” He muttered to himself, looking at in horror. It’s not the first time that he has ever killed before, but it’s definitely the first time that he’s killed someone and it wasn’t in – arguably – self-defense.

The corpse before him had been a prisoner, relatively innocent and he had slaughtered him before he had even realized what he had done. He had to get away, he thought, he needed to leave now. He turned on his heel, ready to run back to the camp and try to convince himself that nothing had happened. But he didn’t have the chance to do that when he felt his arm being wrenched back forcefully behind his back. He cried out in shock from both sensations of the dull pain of his body being manipulated like that against his will. It hurt. It hurt so damn bad and his instincts told him to fight back.

So he did. He twisted and writhed in his captor's grip, squirming around like a wild animal until he was free enough to elbow him in the stomach.

Once he was free from the others’ grasp, Jason stepped back a few feet, squeezing his eyes shut and centering himself for a few moments, having the abstract and instinctual feeling that he had done something terribly wrong. Once he opened his eyes again the gravity of how deeply he had fucked up hit him right in the face. As he looked into his attackers face to find out that it was Vaas and just as he recognized the face in front of him, the pirate slammed his head back against the thick wood of a tree behind him.

The impact dazed him and left him vulnerable enough for Vaas to hoist him up once again. He could barely hear a thing, like his ears were waterlogged, as Vaas snapped at him in an infuriated tone of voice. He could make a few words out, here and there, but he understood the message behind them more than anything else, “You’re gonna pay for that.” That was what Vaas’ very essence projected to him and he went decidedly limp as the pirate carried him off back to camp.

*** Jason was sitting, with his hands tied behind his back in a tiny room that was no larger than a utility closet while Vaas stood in front of him, an infuriated expression besetting his features. He sunk down, making himself smaller and smaller until he seemed tiny and insignificant.

He wasn’t afraid – not really, at least – of what Vaas might do to him. Jason was sure that if he did do something bad enough that Vaas would decide that he was done with Jason, that Jason had gone too far and he had royally screwed not only himself but everyone that was even minutely associated with him, then he would know it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Vaas asked him, his tone suddenly seeming less like a murderous screed against him. “You fucking killed some good product, you know that? Hoyt already had a buyer hooked up for him and now I gotta figure something out so he doesn’t try and kill both you and me.”

“I’m sorry.” He replied, head tilted downward in a show of shame and submission. He took to looking up at Vaas through his lashes, gauging the others’ expression and not really liking what he saw. “I don’t, I don’t know, he was-” Jason frowned, trying to come up with anything better than, ‘He was looking at me like I’m a crazy person.’ because saying that out loud wouldn’t do him very well, even if he had truly not meant to kill the prisoner.

“-I couldn’t get him to stop struggling, I was just trying to get him to calm down.” It wasn’t a total lie, Jason thought in a self-justifying way. In a sense, he was still being truthful. “I guess that I went too far with him. I’m sorry.” He said, trying to appeal to whatever sense of decency and forgiveness that he might have buried deep down inside of him.

Vaas came towards him and leaned down to his level and for a second Jason thought he might have actually won him over, against all the odds. Vaas pressed his lips against the underside of Jason’s jaw before he reared back and smacked him with what felt like a pistol. He passed out moments later.

Hours later, Jason woke up on the dirty cement floor of the room that Vaas had brought him to. He let out a soft, aggrieved sigh and curled in on himself, willing himself back to sleep. He knows, deep down, that he was not being punished for killing the hostage that had tried to run. Vaas wouldn’t care less if the hostages died and Hoyt’s profits stagnated a bit. No, he was being punished for not immediately falling in line with all of the things that Vaas wanted him to do. He felt a sob welling in his throat, terror at the realization of how deeply he had fucked up.

The worst thing about it is that he can’t help but feel that it’s his own fault that he’s in this mess. If he would have just sat down, shut up, calmed himself down and done everything that he was told to do then everything would have been fine. He would have been just fine. *** Jason has no idea how long he had been trapped, with his knees tucked against his chest, in that too small cage but he knows that it was much too long when Vaas pulled him out and commented on how filthy he was and the thought that it was Vaas’ fault that he was in this position did not even cross his mind. He was just so grateful that he wasn’t locked in there any more that he didn’t care.

None of that mattered to him, not anymore, so long as he wasn’t in there anymore he didn’t care about anything else. He felt like his entire world was spinning round and round as he was pulled to his feet and led into a bathroom with a large, aged claw foot bathtub sitting right in the middle of the room. He could barely comprehend anything that had happened to him as his clothes were peeled off of his body and he was pulled into the tub.

He faded in and out of consciousness, still too exhausted and overwhelmed to fully understand anything that was going on. So he just went with the motions. “Didn’t mean to leave you in there so long,” Vaas commented in a breezy sort of tone as he gently washed Jason with a somewhat coarse feeling washcloth all over. He went on to tell Jason how he had been caught up on the other side of the island with an emergency that Hoyt needed him to fix.

Jason wasn’t sure that he believed that – he had done this to him more than one time – but he didn’t have the emotional nor the physical energy to argue with Vaas about it. The truth didn’t really matter to him anyways and nothing good could come from arguing with Vaas about anything.

Eventually, he found himself pulled out of the makeshift tub and made to stand on his own. It was the first time in days that he had done that, and it was hard for him to keep himself afloat while Vaas took a few moments to hand him a long stretch of cloth to use to dry himself off.

The American was still a bit dazed, but he didn’t feel quite as empty and dull as he had moments before. He walked out of the bathroom, not thinking about whether or not the pirate would have approved of him running off. He made it as far as the bed that they usually shared and slammed himself down on the mattress. He let out a tiny whine as he settled himself down, the somewhat lumpy surface feeling like the softest thing that he had laid upon, after almost a week of stewing on a concrete floor.

He was on the verge of sleep when he felt someone squeeze his shoulders in a manner that was less than gentle, prodding him and quietly demanding his attention. “Jason, Jason. Get up, motherfucker, I got something for you.” The pirate cooed to him. Jason struggled to get himself back up from his melted status on the mattress. Eventually, he managed to pull himself up to sit flush against the wall.

“You have something for me?” He replied in a weak sounding tone of voice. He let out a light, amused scoff as he was presented with a heavily packed blunt, smoke billowing out of its embers leaving a not unpleasant smell in its wake. “Oh.” He exclaimed as he regarded it with a casual interest.

“You look like you need a fucking wind down, hermano.” Vaas told him, taking a few puffs off of the blunt before he handed it off to Jason. “This is some good shit.” He commented in a breezy tone, “And I’m feeling real generous right now.” He added as he eased himself down until he was laying flat on his back. Jason closed his eyes, drawing himself back to his happy place as he inhaled each drag slowly.

It didn’t take long until he was high enough to feel like he had no troubles in the world at all. Every sensation that Jason felt was both dulled down and incredibly intense as Vaas sat him down next to him. Jason was so touched starved that he almost immediately curled up into Vaas’ - grabbing onto the pirate’s singlet to pull him in even closer. “You’re warm…” He murmured, in a content and sleepy tone of voice. “But you aren’t, it feels like…it’s nice. So nice.”

He could hear the pirate laughing – probably at him – but he sounded so far away that Jason couldn’t really focus on the noise or parse what words he was saying and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about it in any case. He pressed his cheek against Vaas’ chest and hummed softly and contentedly.

All thoughts about everything that had happened in the past days had disappeared from his mind right then. All he felt right then was a hazy sort of contentedness. He just felt right, like he was right where he needed to be and doing exactly what he needed to be doing. Everything moved so slowly and so hazily that before he realized what was happening, he was flipped over on his back and Vaas was poised on his stomach in between his legs, gently stroking Jason’s cock.

Jason’s senses were so keyed up that everything that Vaas did to him had him moaning and whimpering helplessly from the stimulation of it all. He could hear the pirate laughing to himself about his partner’s excited responses right before he wrapped his lips around the head of Jason’s cock.

He doesn’t do this often for Jason, so he’s sure to make it good for him now that he’s given him the privilege. He easily takes Jason’s dick all the way down his throat and allows the slightly younger man to lazily thrust his hips against Vaas’ mouth. It doesn’t take him long to come as he was already overstimulated by the time that Vaas started blowing him and when he comes he collapses in on himself in a dramatic show of exhaustion.

Vaas pulled up and pressed his lips to Jason, passing the younger man���s own cum right back into his mouth as the two of them lazily kissed each other. When the two of them finally settled down and Jason finally got to sleep again, he had dreamed of home, of safety, of being back with his family.

** The next morning, when he walked through the camp on his own once again, he couldn’t help but notice the way that the prisoners were looking at him. They were scared of him, they thought he was a monster. The realization of what he had done sunk in for him at that moment, the realization that he was a monster. He had killed an innocent person, who had done nothing to him, for no good reason.

He had done a lot of terrible things while he was on Rook, he had left trails of dead bodies in his wake but none of them had been even remotely innocent – he had been able to rationalize it, to let himself enjoy it because he was technically just defending himself. But no matter how many mental gymnastics that he pulled, he couldn’t remotely justify what he had done and it made him feel sick with himself.

Jason was chock full of guilt and remorse for the awful, reprehensible thing that he had just done, and he couldn’t just hammer it out of his mind like it never happened, just like he had always been able to do in the past. His throat felt like it was full of cotton balls and a wave of nausea came over him. He had to get away he thought as he moved past the cages, brushing past whatever men in his way as he tried to get himself as far as possible away from any other free person in the camp.

He found his solitude in a small, empty clearing and sat himself down on the dewy grass below him. He tucked his knees close to his chest and let out a sob. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” He rambled curses to himself, repeating the word over and over again until it held no meaning for him anymore. In his anxiety, he took to running his fingers through his hair and pulling at the end of his overgrown locks, pulling a few strands straight out from his scalp as he did so.

He was dizzy and sick, all of the mixed emotions that he felt mixed together into a toxic bubble inside of his stomach. The most revolting thing about what he had done was that it was just too easy to go through with it, even if he felt awful about it now, even if he beat himself up about it over and over again, he couldn’t deny that it had just been so easy for him. And just what kind of person did that make him? Not the kind that he had ever thought he would be, that was for damn sure.