Chapter Text
Jason is deadly still on the bed before him. Bruce takes another deep breath, in for five seconds, then releases it again in five. It’s no use.
He clenches his hands and refrains from releasing the sixth sigh in so many minutes. His eyes drift from Jason to his other sons, gathered in various degrees of consciousness in the med bay of the cave. Tim is lying in his own bed, deep in sleep and hopefully finding some much-needed rest. His injuries aren’t life-threatening, but that’s all the good Bruce can see when he looks at his second youngest.
Damian is in a similar state of unawareness. In an uncharacteristically open display of affection, he curled up in his oldest brother’s lap. The boy cradles his injured hand close to his chest, while his other lies on Jason’s mattress just a few inches shy of his hand. Alfred won’t let him stay this way for long, what with his leg in a cast and in need of levitation, not dangling to the ground as it does at the moment. Really, Bruce should take the matter in his own hand, but he doesn’t dare break the spell on the room right now. Else the calm illusion might shatter.
Dick sits in one of the spare chairs right next to Jason’s bed, carding through Damian’s hair with one hand and keeping the boy from slipping off his lap with the other. His head is heavily bandaged, courtesy to the concussion he gained from his fight against the Red Hood- or whatever the Hood had been in the end. He’ll have to investigate further. Figure out exactly what impersonated his son, terrorized his city and endangered the rest of his family for months upon months.
First however, he needs Jason to wake up. After Leslie’s diagnosis though, his hopes for that happening any time soon have dwindled considerably.
“For all intents and purposes, he should be awake. His injuries aren’t severe enough to warrant a seventeen hour long coma. He has no head injuries and no internal bleeding. His injuries have been taken care of stat. His condition should be getting better, not worse. I don’t know what’s going on here Bruce. It’s like he just... gave up. I can treat his symptoms, but as long as we don’t know the cause, we’re fighting a losing battle.”
Like he gave up.
Leslie’s words repeat themselves in his head, over and over, but no matter how much he turns them around, he can’t accept them. Jason doesn’t just give up. He’s a fighter in every sense of the word. Whether it’s with his actual fists, or his pure stubbornness, he always prevails. It’s what moved Bruce to take him in all those years ago. The fire in those eyes despite the horrible hand life had given him at such a young age. He wanted to help and watch that fire grow. Instead, he watched it die, snuffed out in the most horrific way possible.
And now he’s doing it again.
“You’re brooding.” Dick’s voice echoes through the silent cave and Bruce looks up from where his eyes traveled back to Jason.
“Hn.”
Dick is right, of course. Yes, he’s been brooding for the past 24 hours, if not longer. Ever since his suspicions of Amar’s real identity were confirmed he’s been brooding on and off. And while he’s not proud of this, it’s the most trusted coping mechanism he’s had for years.
“Did you come up with a plan at least? Or were you staring holes into the air for nothing.” Dick sounds exhausted. When Bruce looks back at his oldest son though he sees pure determination in his eyes. The dark circles underneath them stand in stark contrast to the burning fire in his gaze.
Bruce doesn’t answer him. He doesn’t have an inkling of an idea what they can do to help Jason. The creature that posed as the Red Hood vanished into thin air upon his arrival and Jason had been unresponsive already.
The lab tests of the black substance that covered Jason upon finding him and according to Dick covered the Hood during their fight were mostly useless. The overall components of the substance are unknown. His database didn’t get a match for any of them. Any except for one.
The waters of the Lazarus Pit.
He’d already suspected the accursed waters were connected to the Hood's resurrection and thus his mental state. After all of the countless fights with his alleged resurrected son, it hadn’t been too far-fetched a guess. It still doesn’t give him any clues as to what the Hood was or how his death might play a role in Jason’s physical condition now.
His last resort had been to contact Talia. After all she’s the one who found Jason after he was resurrected, if he can trust her word that is. He probably can’t. Even after he gave in and tried to contact her though, it was to no avail. The call didn’t even connect.
He’s on his own with this.
He closes his eyes again and tries to think of anything he might have missed.
Jason came back sometime four years ago. When Talia found him, she tried to help him recover. His condition didn’t improve and she used the Lazarus Pit to heal the injuries that time and other measures couldn’t. The important question is what really happened after that. Jason obviously didn’t die during the event like she told them. And if she lied about that part, who’s to say she didn’t lie about everything else too.
He needs to talk to Talia. She’s the only one with enough information to bring some clarity into this more than dire situation.
She and whoever that young woman was Jason talked to earlier. He vaguely remembers her calling the creature a nagual, a sort of guardian spirit. The short research Bruce was able to deduct on the topic revealed a rather disconcerting picture.
Nagual are supposedly spirits, meant to protect their designated human counterpart. They can shapeshift between two forms. That of their natural appearance or their protégé. But that’s everything the Justice League’s database offers him on the topic and the few sources he found online are too disconnected and disjointed to paint a consecutive picture and give him clear answers and sources he feels comfortable trusting.
With the little amount of information he managed to gather, he’s no step closer to figuring out how to help Jason.
Talking to him proved fruitless, stimulating his body in other ways was just as futile.
They’re running out of time.
Bruce releases another sigh and winces at Dick’s raised brow. “If we still don’t have any contact with Talia or Jason’s condition worsens drastically, I’ll call Zatanna. And if she can’t help us...” He suppresses another sigh and instead crosses his arms over his chest, trying to fend of both his frustration and ire. “We’ll have to continue looking for another way.”
Dick hums dejectedly and drops his gaze to Damian’s head resting on his chest. “I shouldn’t have let him leave the cave.” After another deep breath he lowly adds, “or allow myself to get hit by that bast-”
“Dick.”
Instead of acknowledging Bruce’s warning, Dick merely closes his eyes, brows still furrowed in agitation and continues to comb his fingers through Damian’s hair. At this point Bruce is fairly sure it serves the purpose of calming Dick himself rather than Damian.
“This isn’t your fault,” Bruce continues. “If Jason had talked to us, we could have fou-”
“No, Bruce,” Dick cuts him off. His eyes are spitting fire when he opens them again and Bruce is reminded of their argument last night. “This is exactly why Jason didn’t ask for help. Why can’t you understand that cornering him was not the right way to make him trust us? He must’ve had his reasons for not coming back. And I bet you that this, right here,” he stops raking his fingers through Damian’s hair and makes a wide gesture with his hand, encompassing the entirety of the cave, “is part of the reason.”
“I was simply asking important questions,” Bruce retorts, though he can already tell it’s the wrong thing to say by the way Dick’s eyebrows sink even further into a dark frown.
“And he wasn’t ready to give them.” His voice is slowly rising as he pins Bruce with his sharp glare. “Maybe he’ll never be, who knows? And maybe we’ll never find out, because I don’t know if you noticed, but he’s dying!”
Before Bruce can return the very sharp words on the tip of his tongue, Damian suddenly stirs. Without a word, the boy reaches for his crutch and frees himself from Dick’s grasp to rise. As quickly as his limping allows him, he heads for the med bay’s entrance.
“Damian,” Bruce starts, but he’s once again interrupted by Dick.
“Dami,” he quickly gets up to follow his youngest brother only to sway in place and press a hand to his bandaged head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t bother, Grayson.” Damian says, his voice sharp as he turns to them. Bruce feels his shoulders slump at the look in the boy’s face. In all the time since Damian arrived in Gotham, he’s never seen the boy display any amount of emotion this openly. “It is more than apparent that neither you nor father plan to look for a real solution to this plight. And if neither of you has the willpower to seek out the one person who might actually have an idea I will gladly take over the task.”
With that he turns and opens the door leading to the rest of the cave. His path is blocked by Alfred though, who simply raises a curious eyebrow as he takes in the occupants of the room.
“I must say, I quite agree with Master Damian’s most astute observation, though I also distinctly remember to have confined the young Master to bed.” At that his gaze flickers over to Bruce with one raised brow before returning to Damian. “Now, if you would please join your brother and get some rest, Master Damian. Your father is needed elsewhere.” Bruce quirks a curious brow at that but Alfred evades his searching eyes with trained ease.
“I will not simply lie down and wait for Jason to d-”
“Damian,” Bruce quickly interrupts before the boy can finish his sentence. He kneels at his son’s side and tries not to feel the sting in his chest as Damian inches backwards the tiniest bit and regards him with a deep scowl. “I will find a way to help your brother, but I can’t do that if I have to worry about your safety as well. So stay here with Dick and keep an eye on Jason.”
“Tch.” Despite the prominent sneer on his face and the clear disapproval, Damian surprisingly obliges without further protest and turns back towards Dick. He sits back down on the now vacated chair and turns his scowl at his brother.
“I’ll be back in a jiffy, buddy. Hold the fort until I’m back, ‘kay?” Damian merely grunts and crosses his arms over his chest.
When Dick joins Bruce and Alfred at the door, he immediately cuts Bruce’s rebuke off before he can even start to voice his disapproval with a stern gaze. “Whatever this is about, I want to know. If it’s about Jason, which I really hope it is, I have a right to know.”
“Of course, Master Richard. If you’d follow me then, gentlemen, I fear our guest is not one of the patient types.”
“Guest?” Bruce asks, but Alfred already turned and left the med bay. With quick steps Bruce and Dick follow the butler into the main body of the cave. They’ve barely made it halfway across the way to the monitors, when Bruce notices the person standing at the console. Next to him, Dick tenses up as well and quickens his steps. Before Bruce can hold him back, Dick rushes towards their guest and grabs them at the collar.
“What are you doing here?” He snarls between clenched teeth and while Bruce feels inclined to join Dick, he’s too distracted by the fact that her being here, is, as loath as he is to admit it, a good thing.
“Talia,” Bruce grunts. She lifts her eyes from Dick to Bruce and while she might put on a serene front, he can clearly see the slight downturn to her lips and the tension in her shoulders. Behind her he makes out the video feed from the med bay. Both Damian and Jason are visible on the screen.
“I asked you a question,” Dick growls, cutting whatever Talia might’ve wanted to say off.
“Always so impulsive, Richard,” she says instead and gives him her most derisive grin. With a quick motion of her hand, she dislodges Dick’s grip on her collar and takes a step back, her gaze once more traveling to the monitors. “But to answer your question, I think we all know exactly why I’m here.”
“Tell me the truth, Talia,” Bruce grounds out.
Instead of answering him, she merely looks off to the empty spot next to her and gives a curt nod, her arms crossed over her chest. Then she goes back to watching the monitor. After a moment the air next to Talia begins to distort in a familiar manner. He’s seen this happen once before when he confronted Jason last night.
Dark smoke begins to gather in the empty space before suddenly a familiar white haired woman stands next to Talia.
Immediately the three of them move. Bruce reaches for one of his batarangs, while Dick moves into a combat-ready position in front of Alfred. The old butler takes a few steps back, but Bruce can hear the familiar rustle of fabric as Alfred takes off his gloves.
Technically, Bruce knows the woman is acquainted to Jason and most likely not an enemy, but with him unconscious and not here to vouch for her, he won’t take any chances. Not with an unknown sorceress or whatever she is in his home.
Undeterred by their hostile greeting, the woman simply regards them with her deep black eyes before she calmly starts to speak.
“It is nice to meet you, family of Jason,” she says. After a short break she adds, “he never spoke fondly of you, but I am used to difficult family circumstances so we shouldn’t let it deter us from our objective.”
The words sting, heavily, and Bruce is involuntarily reminded of Dick’s earlier words. Why Jason didn’t want to return to them.
“Which is?” Dick says slowly.
“There is no need for violence.” She turns towards Dick and cocks her head slightly to the side like she’s trying to make sense of him. “I am merely here to assist you in your query to help Jason. Had I known more about the connection between a human and their nagual, I would have been more adamant in taking Jason back home. But there is no time to be lost over spilled water, as you say, especially not now.”
“He is home,” Bruce says, despite Jason’s adamant denial. He’s still Jason’s father and he’ll do all he can to help him wake up again.
“Stop it with your bullhead, Bruce. Like Essence said, we’re running out of time.” Talia turns back towards them, her eyes tight as she regards the group before her. Slowly but surely, Bruce starts to relax his posture again. The woman, Essence, nods approvingly at his action. He gestures for Dick to do the same and spies Alfred standing a few feet behind them, seemingly completely relaxed, gloves back on his hands as if nothing ever happened in the first place.
Bruce motions for Essence to speak.
“Back home, the Chambers of All – a place between reality and dream – is guarded by the gatekeeper S’Aru. In order to gain passage to the Chambers, one must surrender their most cherished memory as gage to be allowed passage. The last time Jason entered the Chambers, he left his memory behind for S’Aru to keep sake, but a few days ago, said memory went... out of control.” She furrows her brows and turns her gaze away from them. “This has never occurred before and I cannot yet say for certain why. But the death of a nagual as a universal rule means the immediate passing of their counterpart and vice versa. Seeing as Jason has not yet passed on, I believe that maybe Jason’s memory holds the key to help him. If my information is correct, the memory has stopped rampaging the moment the nagual was killed.”
Bruce regards her with furrowed brows. His head is swimming with the barrage of information but he’s logged every single bit of information away in its designated corner to figure out the puzzle piece for piece. The only problem is, he can’t. There are too many unknowns. The Chambers of All. The gatekeeper she mentioned, with an ability to remove memories at will.
Talia seems to foresee the barrage of questions at the tip of his tongue and swiftly breaks him off before he can begin.
“I understand that you have many questions, but the matter of the fact is that we have a clue of where to start and Essence has the ability to hopefully buy us more time. Which we don’t have the luxury to waste any more of, Bruce.”
The urgency in her voice pulls Bruce out of his confusion and something about her wording shifts his attention.
“Us?”
“Yes. Essence will stay here and keep an eye on Jason’s condition. Her healing powers might prove useful should his condition worsen further. Meanwhile, you and I will go to the Chambers of All and find Jason’s memory and hopefully with it a way to wake him up.”
“I’ll go with you,” Dick suddenly speaks up. His face is set in a determined frown.
“The Chambers of All is a confusing and dangerous place, a limping and concussed third wheel will only slow us down if not endanger us even more.” Talia’s words are sharp, both through tone and urgency.
“Then let her heal me,” Dick retorts, pointing at Essence who is already shaking her head.
“We do not know how long Jason still has and how long it will take for them to return. I have to save my energy.”
“She’s right Dick.”
“What?”
Bruce turns to look back at his son and implores him to understand and back down. They don’t have the luxury to argue now.
“I’m not happy with this arrangement either, but if Talia says it’s not safe for you to come then I trust her judgement.” He lowers his volume and takes a step closer to Dick so he can take hold of the younger man’s shoulder. “And don’t make me lose two of my sons if this fails, Dick.”
Dick’s eyes widen at his words, but he quickly schools his expression before Bruce can read anything more than the initial surprise.
“Don’t say stuff like that. Everything’ll be fine.”
Bruce tightens his hold on Dick’s shoulder before he continues. “Yes, it will. But only if you stay here and watch over your brothers together with Alfred.”
A thousand thoughts seem to run through Dick’s head as they look at each other for another moment. Then he finally gives a curt nod. “Alright. But be careful.”
Bruce jerks his head in a curt affirmative and releases Dick’s shoulder. After one last glare towards Talia, Dick turns back to the med bay, Essence trailing behind him without a prompt. Bruce watches the woman walk deeper into the cave with building dread and worry.
When his gaze travels to Alfred next, he finds the old butler still rooted to his spot, watching Bruce with a calculating gaze.
“I’ll find a way to bring him back Alfred, don’t worry,” Bruce tries to appease the man’s worry immediately.
“See that you do, Master Bruce.” Alfred finally says after an agonizing moment of silence. “Don’t make this old man lose the same grandson twice. I don’t think my heart can handle that pain a second time.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Bruce quickly reassures Alfred. “Never.”
The butler gives him a minuscule nod and turns to follow the others, though his shoulders are still tense when he vanishes out of sight.
Finally alone with Talia, Bruce turns to his ex and pins her with a hard stare. She avoids his look and instead fixes her gaze on the monitor one last time. The yearning he caught a glimpse of earlier that seems to pull at her whole being like a leech turns her usually intricate and vibrant demeanor into one of dread and weariness.
He pointedly ignores the nagging urge to comfort her and starts towards the batwing instead.
“Let’s go,” he simply says and immediately hears her steps align with his. Just as she and Essence put it, they don’t have any more time to spare. The longer it takes them to reach their destination, the longer this Essence will be around his family and the bigger their chance to fail.
And this is a mission that cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to fail. He won’t fail Jason again.