Chapter Text
Icy winds cut through the air in turbulent swirls. Mercifully, it hadn’t started snowing yet, despite the heavy clouds above threatening to burst at any moment. For Danny, the cold was at least some kind of comfort, if not the only comfort he was likely to get. He’d started out flying as fast as he could. Bolting through the sky. Racing to escape the lab, the house, the town, the state. The first two hours were filled with the echoes of his own screams rushing with the wind through his ears. But after a while the panic began to fade and even the horrors of fresh memories were blunted by exhaustion. His wounds were becoming impossible for the remaining adrenaline to mask. Thick, glowing, green goo oozed from the lacerations across his torso, dripping off of him as he flew. One arm hung limp, torn and numb while the other held the torn shreds of his suit closed in a white knuckled grip, pressing against the cuts. Pressure on the wound, for all the good it was doing.
He needed to get to Vlad.
And fucking hell, if that sentence wasn’t a sign that everything had gone to utter shit, he didn’t know what was.
He’d flown in complete panic in the direction of Wisconsin. Or at least he thought he was heading in that direction. The storm plaguing the region was doing a damn good job of blocking out the stars and Danny was pretty sure he wasn’t seeing things right. Some landmarks he recognized, others he didn’t, and everything was blurry or fuzzy around the edges. Logic insisted blood loss was to blame, but he knew what ailed his human form didn’t effect his ghost form quite the same. Though… the loss of ectoplasm certainly had some effect on him. The further he went, the less familiar everything was. But he couldn’t circle back. He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t-
Just follow the core, he thought. Follow his senses. He was getting closer. He could feel the familiar ebb of a halfa’s core nearby. Ellie was still exploring Brazil with Wulf, which only left one other source close enough to follow. Vlad couldn’t be too much farther.
He pushed himself forward, trying his best not to breathe and thanking the Ancients that the cold wasn’t making him shiver. His powers were starting to wane though, the wind pushing him around more and more. He needed to reach Vlad soon. Madman or not, Vlad would at the very least help patch him up. He’d give him shelter for at least one night before making demands or deals. He just had to keep following that core signature. Like a distant magnet, drawing him in the closer he got.
Danny squinted against the biting wind and saw city lights ahead.
Okay… not the castle or the cabin… but the core he was following was definitely in the city. Maybe Vlad was on a business trip or something. If so, this was going to ruin his night, for sure.
Danny chuckled at that thought, then immediately regretted the act. Searing, cutting pain lanced through his ribs and he dropped a good thirty feet out of the air. Slowly, uncharacteristically slowly, he managed to recover and keep himself airborne, but the wind was pushing him downward. He couldn’t get any more altitude and he was barely ten feet above the apartment buildings at the edge of the city. He simply didn’t have the strength left to fight the weather.
The core was getting closer though, faster than before.
Vlad had noticed him then. Vlad was coming to get him. And for the first and hopefully only time, Danny was actually grateful for that.
The relief seemed to drain the last of his strength from him and he began drifting towards one of the rooftops. As he crossed over one of the streets, aiming for one of the buildings further down the block, a wave of fear and anger and panic crashed into him. The intense emotions of ghosts were nothing new, but this was a feral kind of rage. Something tangible that had seeped into the bricks of each building and been left to fester and build upon itself regularly.
The realization that he’d just passed into a very dangerous ghost’s Haunt hit him just before the gravel topped roof did. His cry of pain was cut short as he rolled and jostled every injury he’d acquired in the last six hours. The breath was pulled out of him in a rush, as if by a vengeful thief. By the time he came to a stop he was fighting back tears and shaking as all the hurts and cuts and brakes screamed their displeasure in his head. Tears burned at his eyes and his hands started to shake with the effort of forcing the rest of his body to stay still. He didn’t even care that Vlad was going to use this against him later. His inability to hide his pain and keep his composure didn’t matter anymore. After everything he’d been through… after the agonizing flight to get here… He just wanted it all to stop.
Just stop. Please… The pain. The memories. The fear.
No! Stop! Please, no! Stop!
“Stop… please…”
“Okay. Okay. I won’t move. But you don’t look so good, kid.”
It took Danny a moment to realize the voice wasn’t in his head. And it wasn’t Vlad either. The voice was too deep. Too gruff.
Danny cracked one eye open and squinted across the rooftop. A big, strong looking guy in combat gear and a glaring red helmet stood about teen feet from where Danny had fallen. He had his arms up in a placating gesture. He didn’t have an aura like a normal ghost, but there was definitely something of the Realms about him. Danny let his eyes slide closed and reached out with his senses.
The core. The one he’d been following.
It wasn’t Vlads…
“Shit.” Danny breathed, wincing as the action upset his ribs even further. This had to be the ghost, or halfa, who’s Haunt he’d just invaded. Of course, this would be how he found out there was another halfa somewhere in the world. Of course it couldn’t be casual or peaceful or a relaxing meet and greet. No. He had to be bleeding ectoplasm and trespassing and holding back the remnants of another panic attack. Fate was a bitch. “I swear… I’ll apologize later… for… encroaching on your turf.” He said, panting between the waves of pain that pulsed through him.
“Easy, kid, I ain’t gonna take it personal.” the guy said, taking a slow step closer. “You’re a meta, right? That was a pretty nasty fall.”
Danny’s brow furrowed. “Meta? What? No I-” Danny felt the warmth of his human half threatening to take over and panic raced through him. He held his breath as he fought back the morph, feeling himself flicker back and forth for a moment before he managed to stabilize his ghost form. “Look, I haven’t got much time… Do you have a portal nearby?”
“A portal? A portal to where?” The guy asked, his voice carrying a layer of frustration along with the confusion.
“Ghost portal.” Danny hissed. “Or- or some ecto. I lost too much. I just… I need…” A sharp, stinging pain jolted through his broken ribs. He flinched, curling in on himself and using his one good arm to hold the front of his suit, and by extension his skin, together. The whimpering sound that escaped his lips was embarrassingly loud. As if this night couldn’t get worse.
“Shit, kid. Look, let me get you some help. There’s a clinic-”
“No hospitals! No doctors!” Danny hissed.
“You’re not really in any shape to argue.” he insisted, stepping ever closer to Danny. “There’s doctors there who’ve worked on Metas before, I promise. But you can’t just-”
He stopped less than five feet from where Danny was laying and stood eerily still. He couldn’t see his eyes through the helmet, but Danny felt certain the guy was staring at the puddle of ectoplasm that was slowly accumulating beneath his prone body. The helmet tilted slowly as the guy looked more intently at Danny. At his suit. His wounds. His eyes. His gaze lingered on Danny’s eyes and he could feel the horror flowing off of him like a tangible thing.
“What the hell are you?” The man breathed.
Whatever hope Danny had been clinging to for help, died with those words.
He didn’t know. He didn’t know what ectoplasm was. He very clearly had no idea what Danny was and probably didn’t have a full grasp on what he himself was either. And Danny didn’t have the time to explain all of it to him.
“I’m the same as you.” he tried. “Half ghost… half dead…”
The guy took a quick step back and shook his head, but Danny kept talking.
“Look… I know it’s a lot,” Danny said, his voice sounding quieter to his own ears, though he felt certain he was still speaking at the same volume as before. He was getting worse. Danny resigned himself to either getting help from this stranger or bleeding out on this rooftop, “but if you still want to help… I need you to deal with all this later.” He vaguely gestured at the guy with his good hand, only to flinch as his lacerations protested. More ectoplasm oozed out of him and he started to flicker again. Danny’s eyes squeezed shut and his own frustrated growls reached his ears and he wrestled his form back to where he wanted it.
But he was spent now. Still ghostly. Still bleeding green. But he wouldn’t be able to fight the change a third time.
“What-” The guy cleared his throat and Danny got the impression he was trying very hard not to vomit in that helmet. Still he stepped closer and knelt down next to Danny, seemingly determined to help, though his hands were clearly shaking. “What can I do?”
“The next time I start… flickering like that…” he breathed, “I won’t be able to fight it… I’ll turn human again… All this green stuff is gonna turn red… and I’m gonna start bleeding out… for real.” Danny swallowed and fought to keep his own panic at bay. He’d only had one other incident like this happen before and that time Sam and Tuck had been able to get him to Frostbite before he’d passed out. He wasn’t sure what to do if he couldn’t get his ghost half treated.
The man put a shaking hand on Danny's chest, putting just enough pressure on him to feel the unnaturally clean breaks along his ribcage. Danny hissed and grit his teeth as tears burned his eyes, but it only lasted a few seconds. When the guy pulled his hand away he spoke. “The wounds transfer over when you turn human, right?” he asked, his voice taking on a distant, emotionless quality.
“Yeah.”
“And treating them in your human form is the same as any other human?” he asked.
Danny grimaced. “I don’t know… Never been this bad before…”
The guy was silent for a long moment. Danny could feel the concern and fear and horror mixing with frustration and rage now. The guy didn’t have a very strong aura for a halfa, but he had a lot of raw power for his emotions to be this solid. He let out a sort of growl and shook his head. “Fine. I know where I can take you.”
“No hospitals-”
“Yeah, I got that part.” the guy snapped back. “Don’t worry, you can trust these guys.”
“You trust them?” Danny asked.
The guy went all still again. That eerie kind of stillness that other ghosts and halfas were best at, and Danny had to wonder if he even knew he was doing it. Then he shrugged. “There’s at least one I can trust.”
That did little to assuage Danny’s concern.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. A bone deep tiredness was washing over him very quickly. He almost wondered if the guy had drugged him, but then the white rings started to drift over him and he started to feel uncomfortably warm and far too cold all at once. Cold ectoplasm turned to hot blood down his front and his now beating heart seemed determined to purge him of as much of it as possible. Now forced to breathe regularly, Danny coughed and flinched as each breath pushed and pulled at his ribs. Stars flickered behind his eyes and a terrifying desire to just lay down and go to sleep was cloying at the back of his mind.
They were out of time.
“Shit.” The guy sprung into action, digging into one of the pockets on his belt and pulling out some kind of bandage. “Stay with me, kid. You’re not allowed to bleed out until I get some fuckin’ answers out of you. Got it?”
“Fine by me.” Danny said, his voice barely above a whisper. The guy started talking, but not to Danny. He had a hand to the side of his helmet and seemed to be talking to someone else. Built in communicator, Danny thought. Tucker would have loved that. He couldn’t hear whoever was on the other end, but helmet guy was being pretty quiet too. Or maybe Danny was just not paying attention again.
He was pretty tired. And he couldn’t feel the hurt as much whenever he slept.
“Hey! Stay awake, kid. Talk to me.”
“Hmn?”
“Help’s on the way, alright. What’s your name?”
“Danny.” he answered.
“You got a last name, Danny?”
“Secret identity.” Danny hummed. “Your name?”
“What, the helmet wasn’t a dead giveaway?” When Danny only replied with a perplexed expression the guy sighed. “Red Hood.”
“Hmn.” Danny hummed. “Call you, Red.”
Red huffed a short laugh at that. “Well, there’s already another ‘Red’, but I doubt the replacement will be around to give a fuck, so why not?”
“Mhmm.”
“Danny. Hey! Don’t pass out on me. Our ride’ll be here soon. What part of town are you from?”
“Not here.”
“Well yeah, clearly. I think I would have noticed a shapeshifting, flying, glowing meta in my neck of the woods.”
“Not a meta.” Danny sighed. “Just half dead.”
Red let out a shaky sigh at that. “Yeah, you’re definitely gonna have to explain that shit as soon as we get you patched up. You didn’t answer my question though. Where you from?”
“Mnnnnn” Danny hummed. He was struggling to stay awake. His left arm was numb and he was too cold and too warm all over. He was supposed to stay awake… but he couldn’t remember why now…
Someone said something…
He heard it… but then he forgot it…
He tried to say something…
He wasn’t sure if the sound made it past his lips…
And then everything went quiet and Danny let himself drift. It was comfortable. Like when he floated around in his ghost form. It felt natural and welcoming. Like this was where he needed to be. Where he wanted to be. Quiet and floating.
-----
FuckFuckFuckFuck.SHIT! FuckingShit! Fuck!
The only thing tethering Jason to the present moment was the reminder that if he stopped putting pressure on this fucking… on the wound, then this kid, Danny, was gonna bleed out on this rooftop. And really, he shouldn’t care. Well, not this much. Sure he was a wounded civilian, probably, and Jason didn’t want to see him dead or anything, but the concern itching under his skin was way too personal. It was as if Roy or Dick was lying limp in his arms. Someone he knew and cared about. This stranger… this meta… this… person, was nothing to him. And yet…
I’m the same as you. Half ghost. Half dead.
He could practically hear Danny’s voice in his ear, repeating those words. As if they meant something or would explain this random attachment to a complete stranger.
‘Hood. B is still occupied downtown.’ Oracle informed him. ‘He did give the all clear to send the Batmobile though. It’s auto-ing to your location.’
“How the fuck does he know where to send the Batmobile? I got rid of all the old man’s damned trackers.” Jason growled over the line, glad to have something to focus on other than the boy he was trying to keep alive.
‘Oh please, Hood, give me some credit. I had your frequency triangulated as soon as you said, ‘civilian casualty.’ Oracle said. ‘ETA four minutes. And Alfred said he’d be waiting in the medbay for you when you get there.’
Jason breathed a gravely sigh. The Pit was broiling and he figured it was better to literally bite his tongue than to snap at one of the few competent members of the team. He wasn’t even mad, not really. He’d never felt this sensation from the Pit before. Something akin to fear, but not anything based on self preservation. It was complex, which was completely out of his normal because the Pit was usually very simple and straightforward when it came to the core sensations. Anger. Rage. Action. Hurt. Kill. Easy to identify, if not so easy to cope with.
But this… it was layered. The Pit reacted to this bleeding kid, to Danny, with more nuance than he was used to. The first thought that came to mind bordered on a religious fear. Fear of God. He quashed that thought as quickly as it manifested though. It was close, but not quite right, and even if it had been he didn’t want to give the idea any time or space in his already crowded head. There was a reverence to the fear though. A recognition of power and, oddly, authority? For this scrawny, dying, teenage kid with glowing green blood and an extremely obvious and distinct y-incision across his chest.
“Don’t think about it.” Jason quietly hissed under his breath. He swore his own autopsy scars were stinging under his skin and he really did not have fucking time to have a panic attack right now.
He tried applying a bit more pressure to the wound, but Danny’s breathing seemed to hitch and spasm, so Jason backed off a bit. How the hell were you supposed to apply pressure when the bones beneath the flesh were broken?
Severed, his mind corrected. Not broken. Severed.
“Shut it!” He hissed, not quite as quiet this time.
‘You alright, Hood?’
“Peachy. Where’s the damned car?” Jason hissed, gritting his teeth to try and maintain some level of control.
‘Less than thirty seconds out. Might wanna get down to ground level.’
“On it.” he responded. Goals. Tasks. He could manage those. He could focus on those.
After quickly applying the last of his rescue bandages to the area with the worst bleeding, Jason scooped the kid up into his arms. Heavier than he looked at least, but still light and completely limp. Once he made certain Danny was still breathing, shallow as it was, he jogged to the fire escape and made his way down. The Batmobile was waiting for him in the alley and he was able to slide into the backseat with minimal effort. The car started rolling out of the alley and speeding down the streets as soon as the door shut. Jason had little else to do but monitor Danny’s condition and hope they managed to get to the cave before he keeled over.
Then again, given just how much Lazarus Water had been spilling out of Danny’s veins, he genuinely wondered if keeping him alive was as big of a concern as he’d initially thought. He was bleeding red now though, so who fucking knew what was going on. Jason looked down at the boy in his arms. Young, but judging by his jawline, not as young as he first appeared. Definitely too skinny then, wearing cheap denim pants and a long sleeve shirt that was ripped down the front, mirroring the torn material of Danny’s previous form. His clothes were covered in blood now and he clearly wasn’t dressed for the late November weather. Now that he had a chance to breathe and get a look at him, Jason could see other injuries too, both old and new. A fresh, jagged tear down Danny’s right arm that was sluggishly bleeding through the material and an old burn mark on his neck that disappeared down the front of his shirt hinted at far more beneath his clothing. He shook his head. He’d let Alfred handle whatever other ailments lurked out of sight. Everything had unfolded and happened so fast and Jason was far too shocked and unsettled to even consider stripping the guy down and unpacking the rest of this Meta’s baggage.
When Jason had first seen the kid fall out of the sky, he’d been mid-swing on his usual patrol. He’d seen the neon green and immediately assumed it was part of the costume. A mostly black costume for a hero or villain who was nocturnal? Glow-in-the-dark logos or paint wasn’t the worst idea he’d heard of. And the good stuff did have a neon green quality to it. It wasn’t until he’d gotten much closer that he’d noticed the pool of liquid green around the kid’s body and saw a trickle of it flowing from the incision that he recognized the energy in the air.
Once he noticed it he couldn’t stop noticing it. It practically sang to him. More accurately, it sang to the Pit. The closer he got to Danny, to the pitiful pool of Lazarus Water dripping out of his body, the more the Pit reacted. Again, not with the feral rage he would have expected, but reverent fear. Danny had asked for help and Jason, who’d wanted nothing more than to run back to his safe house and lose himself in a full blown panic attack, had been physically unable to make himself walk away. Granted, the moral and thinking part of his brain did want to help, if for no other reason than to find out what the hell was going on. But even if he’d wanted to ditch the dying kid, he was pretty sure he couldn’t have. Something about his voice, his steady and too-calm request for help, given the circumstances, made Jason’s near overwhelming panic subside. He felt obligated to listen.
It was spooky as all hell, but the kid hadn’t exactly asked for much. Jason was fairly certain he could though…
When they reached the cave Alfred was waiting for them, just as Babs had said he would be. No one else seemed to be back from patrol yet. With any luck, he could get in and out of this place without having to interact with any of the bats or birds. He didn’t think his nerves or the Pit could handle any of them tonight.
“You mentioned that the boy was a meta.” Alfred said, preparing a few machines in the medbay area while Jason set Danny down on the medical cot.
“Sort of. I think?” A hollow chuckled passed his lips and Jason shook his head. “Honestly, Al, this one is a bit of a mystery.” Once Danny was settled and Alfred started checking his pulse and all the other initial checks, Jason pulled off his helmet and took a gulp of fresh air. The damp stone of the cave doing more to ground him in the moment than he expected. For all the panic the manor upstairs gave him and the complex feelings of working with the Bats made his head spin, the smell of the cave was still a relief. Safety and comfort.
Alfred moved to cut Danny’s shirt off and Jason quickly shut his eyes and turned to face one of the cave walls. Breathe in. Breathe out. Wet rocks and bat guano.
“Oh my.” Alfred breathed as the sound of the rescue bandages being peeled away reached Jason’s ears.
“Yeah.” Jason growled. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Alfred hummed. “The bleeding seems to have slowed, at least.” he said, quickly composing himself with seemingly little effort. “The lacerations don’t appear to be deep enough to have punctured any organs, so it should be a simple matter of dressing the wound and giving him a blood transfusion to replenish what was lost.”
Jason huffed. “That may be the tricky part.” Jason glanced over his shoulder, just enough to catch Alfred’s eye. “Kid’s got an alternate form. Some kind of shapeshifter or something, I don’t know. But when I got to him at first, he was bleeding Lazarus Water straight out of his veins.” Alfred’s movements stilled for just a moment, but he said nothing, so Jason continued. “When he ‘turned human’, his words, not mine, all the green turned red right before my eyes. Like some fuckin’ morbid magic trick.”
“Language.” Alfred sighed, though there was little force behind the reprimand. He hummed as he turned his attention back to Danny. “The primary concern is still sealing the wound. Given the size of the laceration, I think staples might be the best bet to save time. The arm should be a simple matter of sutures, I think. We just need to figure out if he has any immunities to normal anesthetic.”
“And the ribs.” The words left Jason’s lips in a rush, like if he didn’t get them out now they were going to suffocate him. Alfred was silent behind him. “About half the kid’s ribs on his right side have been…” He could taste bile at the back of his throat and the panic he’d been fending off for the last half hour was rising to the surface. No amount of damp cave air would calm these thoughts. Fear and anger warred in his mind and boiled his blood. The edges of his vision were turning green and he knew if he stayed he was going to regret whatever came out of his mouth next. “I’ll leave you to it.” He growled, marching away from the med bay and striding towards one of the cave’s exit tunnels.
His path was a blur of green and flashes of memories. Taking in a breath, only to feel the sharp sting from snapped ribs and the pressing closeness of thick, wooden, coffin walls. He tasted dirt and acid and couldn’t tell if the moisture on his skin was the cold bite of rain or warm sweat. Flashes of the Lazarus Pit and the feeling of being drowned as green acid rushed down his throat brought up more bile. He was on his knees, ill and shaking, but the memories refused to subside. He could have sworn he heard his own ragged screams, but his throat felt so tight that he could barely breathe.
By the time he stopped throwing his guts up and could actually feel the cool rock wall against his forehead, his legs had gone numb. At least he’d made it outside this time. Sticky sweat coated his skin and with each breath his shoulders shook. He didn’t know how long he’d been out there, or which tunnel he’d wandered down, but at least the Pit had cooled. Sometimes it was him reacting to the Pits, other times it was the other way around. At least this way resulted in less collateral damage.
Triggers from all directions, he thought. Fuckin’ fantastic.
He took a few steps away from the pile of filth and tried to wipe the vomit off of his chin. In a bit he could go back in and duck into the bathroom to clean up better. A shower sounded pretty fucking fantastic right about now anyways. He sighed and decided to sit on the rocky ledge that loomed over part of the harbor, pulling his phone out to shoot a quick text to the Outlaws chat. He was gonna be out of contact for a day or two. Even ignoring the fact that the Pit was reacting wildly and usually left him exhausted after a flare up, he didn’t want to leave this new and mysterious stranger with the Bats.
I’m the same as you. Half ghost. Half dead.
God... what the fuck had he gotten himself into?
Jason took a deep breath, held it, then let it out as slow as he could. When the Pit didn’t respond he deemed it safe to be around people again. Or, at the very least, Alfred. Slowly, he got up and wandered back into the tunnel. The sound of voices reached him and he could practically feel his hackles raising. The demon brat’s entitled whining carried through the stone corridors and Batman’s answering grumble made Jason’s teeth itch.
Silently he made his way down the winding path. He had one reason for being here and it had nothing to do with the Bats. He just needed to get Danny patched up and then get the fuck out of here. No need to talk or shout or fight. Surely B could understand that. It was the least he could do, since Jason was actually trying to be civil lately. If he could just-
“Jason.”
Jason stilled as Bruce rounded the corner and came into view. The green of the pits threatened to rear up again, but Jason kept the anger quashed. It was Bruce. Cowl off. Voice neutral. Posture relaxed. He meant no harm. He wasn’t even blocking the path, just standing off to the side, waiting to see how Jason would respond.
For his part, Jason forced himself to take a slowed breath and relax his tightly clenched fists. He was fine. Everything was fine. He made himself take a step forward. Then another. And the rest followed in quick order.
“Bruce.” his voice sounded raw. Fucking stomach acid had burned his vocal chords.
“Are you alright?” Bruce asked. The tone was genuine, but light. Mild concern, but concern nonetheless. It left Jason’s skin feeling too tight. Torn between fluttering relief and clawing fury.
“Fine.” Jason half growled, half croaked. He tried to clear his throat before speaking again, which did help a little. “You look at the kid yet?”
Bruce fell in step alongside Jason, keeping a solid two feet of distance between them and shook his head. “Just got back to the cave. Oracle said he was a meta of some sort?”
Jason shrugged. “He’s not human, that’s for sure.” He had been headed for the med bay, but turned and made a bee-line for the little water cooler that sat next to the training area. Bruce followed and Jason had to literally bite his tongue to keep from screaming at the man. Bruce was trying, he knew he was, but Jason needed some fucking space. Was that really so much to ask for? After Jason had downed a couple cups of water he continued with a much clearer voice. “I’ll have him out of your hair once Alfred gets him patched up.”
Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “If all you needed was medical attention, why not take him to Leslie?”
Jason glared back. When he spoke his words were pointed and crisp. “He was a meta, begging not to be taken to a hospital and bleeding fucking Lazarus water. This seemed like the best option at the time.” Jason forced his shoulders to relax a fraction as he said, “Besides, you said if I needed anything the cave would always be open to me.”
“What makes you think he was bleeding Lazarus water?” Bruce asked, dropping the topic of bringing a stranger to the cave quicker than Jason had anticipated. Though the air of doubt still lingered. If he wasn’t judging Jason’s choices he was certainly judging his perception skills.
“I know what I saw. I…” He grit his teeth. This was going nowhere and Jason didn’t have the patience to tiptoe around his- around Bruce tonight. “You know what, maybe bringing him here was a mistake. My bad, so sorry. Once he’s stitched up, we’ll be out of your precious little lair and you won’t have to worry about a damned thing.”
Bruce’s expression wavered. “Jason-”
“Shut it, B. I’m not doing twenty questions tonight.”
“Maybe you should think about this before you-”
“AND I DON’T NEED YOU QUESTIONING MY ACTIONS FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME!” Jason roared back.
Silence echoed all around the cave in response. Only Jason’s own heated breaths filled the space between the two men. Bruce almost looked- something... hurt? Concerned? Not angry though. The moment passed and Bruce turned his head to the side. Thinking. Jason thought he saw something like regret in the furrow of the man’s brow, but he was probably just trying to puzzle this all out. Always the detective. Always thick as a brick wall when it came to emotions and boundaries.
The sound of a throat being cleared cut through the tension and they both turned to look at Alfred.
“Given the difficulty I had in getting our guest anesthetized, I would very much appreciate it if the both of you kept your voices down.” Alfred said, walking up to them. Jason felt the fight drain out of him as the butler drew closer. The last person he’d ever want to antagonize was Alfred.
“How is he-” Jason started.
“What did you find-” Bruce interrupted.
The anger flared and when Jason looked back at Bruce, everything was tinted green. Bruce, for once, looked suitably guilty and held his hands up, palms out. It was the closest Jason figured he’d get to an apology, but it was enough... for now.
Alfred, bless him, continued on without comment. “The young man does appear to have a healing factor to some extent, though I cannot be sure of how it normally functions. I had to make use of the painkillers and anesthetic we keep on hand for the Kents to make any headway, however the wounds along his torso refused to begin closing until it had been very thoroughly washed out. Whatever implements caused the damage seemed to have left behind a substance that inhibited his healing abilities. Some sections are healing remarkably quickly, while others are behaving more in line with that of the average human.”
Bruce hummed at that and looked over his shoulder in the direction of the med bay. Jason could practically see the gears turning in his head.
“And the rest of him?” Jason asked.
Alfred sniffed. “There was little I could do for his skeletal injuries, but wrap his ribs. The arm was considerably easier to work with, though time will be the most help with that wound. I’m no expert, but since the cuts went through muscle tissue and down to the bone, I can guess that there was likely nerve damage. Managing his pain will, no doubt, be a difficult and necessary factor at play in his recovery. There are a considerable number of older scars, but nothing that needed immediate attention. Wherever this young man came from, I fear he left in the midst of an operation, given the extent and state of his injuries.”
Jason went a little pale at that.
“God… to wake up… in the middle of that happening…” He said, his voice quiet.
“If he was put under at all.” Bruce added.
Well, there was Jason’s nightmare fuel for the next month. He turned and started walking towards the med bay, fighting to keep the nausea from making a return. Alfred said more to Bruce, but Jason didn’t listen. Frankly, he had no interest in hearing all the gory details. He stepped beyond the curtain hiding Danny from view, only to find Damian, still in his Robin getup, leaning over the unconscious stranger and holding one of his eyelids open. The sight, along with what Alfred had just suggested Danny likely went through, made the Pits scream and Jason had to actively keep himself from grabbing the brat.
“Well aren’t you just the creepiest little nurse.” Jason deadpanned, venom in his tone and vision going green again.
“If anyone here has experience recognizing the effects of Lazarus Water on a person from an outside perspective it would be me, Todd.” the little demon said, squinting at his prone and unaware patient.
“Eavesdropping is rude, you know.” Jason said, taking two long strides and closing the distance between the two of them. “Leave him be.”
The kid scoffed. “He is under the same anesthetic that would incapacitate a Kryptonian for two hours. He will not be capable of complaint until long after I have finished my inspection.” Damian’s gaze slid down to where a basic saline drip had been IV’d into Danny’s left arm. Distantly, Jason noted the Lichtenberg scars that trailed all the way up Danny’s arm, spider-webbing over his shoulder and trailing beyond what the bed sheet and bandages hid.
“It wasn’t a suggestion.” Jason said, glaring down at the brat, who had at the very least taking his hands off Danny and was giving Jason his full attention.
Damian glared back at Jason. “You do not command me, Todd.”
The green deepened. “I’ve broken Robins before. I can do it again.”
Another scoff. “I doubt Drake was hardly a challenge. I would best you easily.” His shoulders stiffened and his posture shifted ever so slightly to prepare for a fight. And Jason wanted to respond. He hadn’t gotten to punch anyone all fucking night. No outlet for the layers of stress that kept being added on, hour after hour. The thought of putting this spoiled, heartless brat in his place made the Pits sing.
Except...
He had been down this road before.
Beating the shit out of the Replacement hadn’t helped anything then. Only added a helping of guilt to his already messy relationships with the Bats. And, sure, maybe he still wanted to keep them all at arms length... but...
Damian, standing there, ready for a fight and looking eager to take on a challenge, was so small. He was a kid. And arrogant, annoying, spiteful little kid, but a kid nonetheless. And Jason...
The green was fading along with Jason’s will to fight.
“Bruce, come get your gremlin before I break his arm!” Jason hollered over his shoulder.
Bruce strode into the medbay, moving with speed and taking a moment to assess the situation. Once he seemed to realize Damian wasn’t a bleeding wreck on the ground he turned to Jason. He took a long time staring Jason in the eye, likely looking for the telltale green glow. It was almost gone, but still flickered at the edges of Jason’s vision. He bristled at being so openly examined, but he supposed he should have expected this reaction.
“Upstairs, Damian.” Bruce said, not taking his eyes off Jason.
“But, father-”
“It’s a school night. You were supposed to head straight for the showers once we got back.” Bruce finally pulled his gaze from Jason to look at the brat. “We made a deal, remember?”
That seemed to get under the little demon’s skin. His fists clenched. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. Then, at some unseen signal, he pushed past Jason and Bruce and practically stomped towards the stairs.
Bruce gave Jason a look and hesitated. It was actually kind of shocking how similar he and Damian looked when they wanted to say something, but were holding back. And then, like the brat, Bruce turned and left without a word.
Typical.
Jason sighed and sat in the chair next to the cot. Danny lay motionless, breathing shallowly yet steadily. Alfred had pulled the sheet up over his chest and added a second blanket for warmth. With his dark hair and pale complexion Danny could have been mistaken for any one of the Waynes. Though with the deep shadows under his eyes, Jason had to admit he most resembled Tim out of all of them. Especially compared to the last time he’d seen the kid. The heart rate monitor, with the volume off so that it wouldn’t annoy the hell out of everyone in the cave, displayed a slow rhythm. Too slow for a normal, sleeping human, but whether or not it was normal for Danny was anyone’s guess. Alfred had mentioned him needing a blood transfusion, but nothing had been hooked up. Danny seemed stable though, so maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as they’d first thought.
“Don’t worry.” Jason murmured. “Once Alfie clears you to be moved, I’ll get you back to my place. No army of Bats watching your every move and interrogating you there.”
Danny didn’t reply. In all likelihood Damian was probably right and he’d be under for at least a few hours if not half of the next day. Poor kid probably needed the sleep anyway.
Jason settled into his seat and resigned himself to being on watch duty. And, for reasons he still couldn’t find words for, the idea of sitting next to this enigma of a person, for the next however many hours, in the Batcave, did not actually bother him. It should have, it should’ve at least been mildly annoying, but… it wasn’t.