Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The storm rarely occured in this part of the town. It's past midnight and the storm still going. Walking as quietly as she can, she opened the door with a key that he gave her. The house was dark with no light at all but she had no problem navigating her way to the couch, picking the blanket that had been tossed to the ground and gently draped them over the lean figure sleeping on the couch. 

She sat down by the couch, running her fingers through the thick black hair and humming lullaby. Praying that whatever this boy was dreaming, it won't be a nightmare. 

It's a routine. One that she will never wanted to stop. 

One that she will never wanted to give up. 

Not to anyone. 

Especially not to a stranger that came out of nowhere. She won't. No one. She won't. 

So, please. 

No. 

She cried. 

Chapter Text

"Hey, how are you?" 

Cheery. Joyful. That was by no mistake, Dick's voice. Scowling from under the blanket, Jason wondered why he even bother to answer the phone in the first place. 

"What-" a yawn, "-do you want, Dick?" 

Be civil. 

"Nothing~". 

Oh here we goes again. 

"Another case? What is it this time?" Jason got up from his bed and headed straight to the bedroom. Grabbing the toothbrush and wondering why the hell Tim's favourite toothpaste, the one that he hate so much was there in his cupboard. "Yeah, another one," this one was less cheery and more like a whining. 

"You know, it wasn't that bad to get out of the town once in a while," squeezing the toothpaste, he scowled and making a mental note to buy another flavour, this one's suck. 

He heard Dick sighing through the speaker, sounds a little far away. His guess was he also was getting ready to start his day. Or packing. Dick hate leaving to anywhere but the manor lately. 

Not lately. Not really. 

"You sure you don't mind, Jay? This is already the third time in this month." 

"Huh? No, I'm fine. I've gotten used to Blud and there's less psychos over there so I'm cool with that. Is Tim with me or-"

"Nope. Timmy's with the Titans. Staying there since last Friday. But he gave me a call last night saying he's going straight to you after he's done with them." 

Jason hummed as reply. 

"Anything else?"

Silence. 

"Jason," 

Don't say it, Dick. 

"It's been..."

Don't you dare. 

"...two yea-" 

DAMN IT, DICK! 

He hung up on Dick. Again. 

Chapter Text

He is our little brother, he said. We should find him, he said. It's been two years, he said. Maybe, we should stop, he said. Maybe we're wrong. 

Maybe, he's already dead. 

He fucking said that! 

Jason Todd was not known as a good person, not compared to Dick Grayson. So, no. He's not. He grew up on the streets and he even freaking tried to steel Batman's tire so he's not. But hell, he was not heartless. 

They had decide to find Damian two years ago. Two years. No progress whatsoever but should they gave up just cause they found nothing? No. That was Jason's answer. Unfortunately, he's on the minority side with only Cassandra standing by him.

He was shaking so hard, he lost control. Why should they stop? Isn't Damian's a family too? 

So, he punched Dick. 

For suggesting to quick. To stop. To forget. 

He kicked Tim. 

For agreeing. For assuming that he, Damian had died. 

He even pushed Steph. 

For being there. On the other side. 

He fucking hate everything, everyone. But he forgot Cass.

She's there, by his side. 

She stayed. Together, they didn't stop. They couldn't. Because out of everyone in this massive family of people who's been suffering and hurting, they're the only exception.

They had hurt. 

They inflicted hurt on others. 

They'd sin. They'd killed. 

Their stories and Damian's were written in the same format, with the same pitch black ink on the old crumpling papers. An old tales of fighting, losing and hoping to win. To survive and escaped. So how could they gave up. 

Jason still remembered the day they told the girls about Damian. Barbara looked hurt and she immediately joined the group. She will do everything she could to help, she said. Stephanie cried that day. She cursed both Talia and Bruce and no one was surprised when she asked when they're going to start searching for Damian. But Cass.... 

Cass didn't said anything. She didn't cried. She didn't looked hurt either. She's just standing there. Nodded once when they asked whether she wanted to be part the mission or not. 

The next morning, Jason woke up with a person lying on top of him. His first instinct was to attack but the muffled sounds of someone blowing their nose stopped him. His second thought was, who the fuck blow their nose on someone else's shirt. The person shifted and Jason was met face to face with a crying Cass. They both didn't said any word. The silence last for a few seconds. Jason would never know how to explain if someone will ever asked him, how did he understood what Cass was thinking. He brought his hand and rest them on Cass's back, his poor attempted at a hug. They stayed in the silence for a few minutes before he heard Cass's voice. 

Find him. For me. 

She said. 

He didn't said anything, just hug her a little tighter. 

But deep down his heart. He swore that he will never stop. He'll find that boy. He'll find his little brother. He'll find Damian. He'll save him. So he could save himself and his sister in return.

But when Dick Grayson wanted to stop. He froze. 

What the fuck. 

His mind echoed the same sentence over and over.  

Then, he lost control and he stayed away. 

He took a few months to cool off his anger but he came back. He never mentioned Damian ever again but everyone knew he didn't stop. He and Cass. 

He patrol as usual. Sometimes with Steph and more often than not with Tim.

Sometimes, he helped Dick watch over Bludhaven. Usually when Dick got a mission with Batman and the League. 

So one day when he was wondering on the brighter side of the city, the outskirt of Bludhaven where there were less criminal and more shops with tasty treats. He thanked Cass more than he ever feel the need to thank Talia for bringing him back to life. 

He was glad that he never stop. He was glad that he, at last... not blind. 

He found Damian. 

Chapter Text

The alarm was broken. He knew that it was broken three days ago but he didn't want to ask for a new one. Or maybe he had forgotten to ask. It happened a lot lately. Him forgetting things. But also, him remembering things. For instance, right now. As he was staring at the completely still clock hands, his mind was racing, calculating and somehow deciding what time it was. It was a pretty useful skill if someone wanted to know what his opinion is, but looking back at himself and the state of his mind for the past few years, he's more scared than amazed. 

How? 

The only thing that was in his mind was him questioning himself about all the things that he couldn't understand about his own self. His own person. His body. His mind. And his.... 

Voice. 

Knock. Knock.

Damian untangled himself from the blanket around his waist and grab the broken alarm clock from his night stand. He jogged to the front door, not wanting to keep the person on the other side of the door waiting. Damian opened the door and stepped aside, allowing his guest to enter the house. 

"It's rare to see you sleep in, Eli?" 

-it's not my fault. The alarm is broken. I forgot to tell you when I'm late for my jogging yesterday.- 

Damian shoved the clock onto the hand of the woman who stands a few inches taller than him. It's not that she's really tall, the problem was Damian's the one that didn't grows properly. He's short for a seventeen years old boy. The woman chuckled quietly, hands inspecting the clock that successfully making his boy pout. She felt a finger poking her shoulder, she looked up and smile at the boy. 

"Want some breakfast?" she asked. 

-Yes, please.- 

"Well then, I'll prepare you something to eat but before you eat, go clean yourself and put on some nice cloth. We have an appointment today, i hope you didn't forget about that." 

The boy was not happy at the mentioned of appointment and she was aware about that, but it's an important appointment. They could not, not attend the appointment, again.

She ruffled his messy bed hair, enjoying the scowl on his face. "It will be okay," she whispered. 

The boy looked up to meet her eyes. 

-I doubt it will go any different from before.-

"It will be different. I promise you," she said, bringing her finger down from caressing his hair to massaging the space in between the boy's eyebrows. He should really stop frowning too much, she thought. "Do you believe in me?"

The long paused usually means no, in the boy's language but this time, he brought his hand up and signed with his index finger up to his forehead. The other hand made a somewhat modified C. 

-I believe in you, Elice."

He brought his hands down and rest them on his sides. He smiled at Elice, his caretaker. No, she's more of a mother than a caretaker. He's grateful that someone like him got to meet someone like her. A boy who had nothing. No identity. No memories. No voice.

He was mute. 

Eli was mute. 

Eli didn't know that, Eli is Damian.

Damian was mute. 

Chapter Text

Jason was going to kill him. He was going to fucking kill the fucking man. Magician or not, the next time Jason met him, he's a goner.

Red Robin knew that, if he let Red Hood chased after the magician, the magician will be dead. And they couldn't let that happened, they need the magician and his magic. 

"Da-Robin! Robin answer me!" Red Robin gave a few slap on the unconscious boy cheek , in hope that he will open his eyes and berate him for being panic in costume. When he got no response, he cursed under his breath before tapping the comm in his ear. "Robin's down. He got hit with some sort of spell. We're returning back to the bat cave." 

Red Robin switched off his comm after trying and failing to calm Nightwing down. 

Before Red Robin could take the small boy into his arms, a pair of muscular arms had snatched Robin from him. 

"Come on, the bat mobile will arrive shortly." Jason's voice was a cold as Gotham's winter nights. 

Red Robin gave a short nod and proceeded to type a short note on Robin's condition on his wrist computer to be sent to Alfred as a heads up. As his fingers were typing, Red Robin let his eyes wander at the sight of Red Hood carrying the limp body of Robin. He saw Red Hood's arms tighten around the small body as he stood still. 

Red Robin finished typing the note, he then pushed the send button and close the mini computer. 

He held his arms out, "come here. Give him to me."

"Huh?" Red Hood reply sounds slightly rough as he was still recovering from a cold until yesterday. Red Hood shook his head, "no. I'll hold him."

"Okay but remember, he's going to be fine."

Red Hood didn't answer and Red Robin was fine with that. He just didn't want him to have any weird idea and started to run away like before which was not going to end up well for everyone. Especially, Red Hood himself. 

Unheard by Red Robin, Red Hood whispered. "I know."

He woke up with a jolt and he barely managed to catch himself from falling face first onto the floor. 

"I see you have come back to us. I'm glad Master Timothy." 

Tim looked up and see Alfred the butler descend the stairs. Ah, he was in the bat cave, lying on one of the bed in the medical bay. 

"Why am i here, Alfred?" Damn, his head was killing him. 

"You got hit by a magic, Sir. The magician that you pursue have managed to get a hit on you. Master Bruce brought you here last night." Alfred put the tray that contains some sandwiches and a glass of orange juice on the table beside the bed. He then placed his hands on both sides of Tim's head to check if there's any bump or swelling. He didn't find any last night but it won't hurt to check for a second time.

"I must say, you gave me quite a shock, Master Timothy." Alfred voice was calm but Tim sense a bit of worries in it. 

"I'm sorry that i worry you, Alfred. I'll be careful next time."

"You better be young man. Now, please rest. I'll leave your breakfast here, if you find an appetite to eat then you're welcome to finish them." Alfred gave a warm smile and left Tim to rest. 

Tim watched Alfred left the bat cave before lying back on his back. 

His mind wandering back to the vision that he saw earlier. 

A vision? 

No, it felt more like a dream. 

But not really. 

He sighed. Ah! Damn! Damn that magician. Damn his splitting headache! Damn Ro-

Robin?! 

"Da-Robin! Robin answer me!" 

Da? What Da.... Who-

DAMIAN?! 

Chapter Text

Jason admitted it, he loves Gotham. He loves the people. The enviroment. The scenery. The- alright. Alright.

It's a joke. 

No fucking sane people gonna said they love Gotham without at least have a record of spending the night in Arkham's bed, save for a couple of people. Hmm, yeah. Bruce. 

But still, he loves Gotham.

The whole my-life-started-here-so-i'll-ended-them-at-the-very same-place kinda love.

You get the idea.

Now let's forget the damn Gotham for a second and think about Bludhaven. Bludhaven have something, something different compared to Gotham. Maybe due to the lacked of stupid thugs or crazy psycho villians. But that's a differences in a department that only included obsessive and aggressive people. We now talked about the other type of something different. Non similar. Rare. Peculiar. Whatever synonyms to 'different' that were listed in the dict- Google.

Exactly, Google.

Cause you know, who used a freaking dictionary anymore. Definitely not Jason. Uh-uh.

Okay. Got distracted.

Backspace.

...Bludhaven. 

Jason was sitting at the edge of the roof top. Not quite sitting as he was half body tilted dangerously from the edge of the rooftop to sneak a glance into one of the apartment underneath him. He swore he heard a scream. Sounds like it came from the window but, didn't see any movement whatsoever.

Having confirmed that he saw nothing out of place from inside of the building and proving he once again, in the freaking need of eight hours sleep, Jason walked from that one side of the rooftop to the other side. Took out his grappling hook and- shoot!

Oh my God !

Oh my- what the hell!

The heck!

Oh God. His heart. His fucking precious one and only heart. Who the heck?

Okay, what the F. Capital F and word not written as a complete word instead just the letter, cause you see, Jason was just about to shot his grappling gun. And guess what- there's a boy...

Yes.

A boy. In a big baggy baby blue sweater. Too bright compared to the dark night sky. Hood's up, sleeves rolled halfway to midforearm. A scowl on his face. 

Oh poor kid. With that kind of scowl, this kid gonna sure get wrinkle on that big-ass forehead way before he get to taste his first official alcohol. 

Again. Got distracted.

Cis!

Backspace.

A bright green eyes bored their way through his own not so green eyes. Jason blinked a couple more time (exaggerating the action to it's fullest) to gain back some of his conciousness that had gone when he almost chocked on his own heart a couple seconds ago. 

Jason was contemplating on what to do. He got a couple choices here. He sure got the upper hand too, seeing this kid standing in front of him (posture relax-or not so relax if the tense on his shoulder and constant tapping of his left foot is any indication to his nerverness? Maybe. Ughh, that resting bitch face on his freaking face with that big as globe green eyes) seems pretty fragile.

But then again, he almost- pay attention to the word- almost shot the kid in the head with a grappling gun.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh

If Dick was here.

If replacement was here.

If anyone was here.

It's safe to say that, he'll never live this down. 

Ever. 

Either from the fact that some middle school kid managed to sneak on him or the fact that he killed again. Doesn't matter if it is accidental or not.

Someone's gonna get him.

He's gonna- what wow.

Ow.

Wow. 

Wait a second. 

Where the hell did this kid come from.

He didn't just sneak up on Red Hood. 

No one does that.

He didn't got sneak up on. And he's not in denial.

Hence that question was out of his mouth through his front teeth with quite a thick layer of venom in it and some deep throat growl as sound effect, before he got to stop himself. 

"Who are you, kid?"

A tilted head and...swinging hand?

Okay. What the fuck.

No.

Seriously, what the fuck.

Chapter Text

Bludhaven nights, like Gotham's, were cold for most of the year, even in summer. So, the warm temperature that the small apartment offered was something that Jason would never rejected. He sat on the worn black couch that also occupied by a black and white ragdoll. 

The apartment was small, a 1LDK but it was cozy and honey. The pictures on the wall and blankets by the couch, also the small potted plants littering the windowsill made the small living space so full of life. It's warm, the only word that Jason think fitted the place. 

A mug steaming hot with hot chocolate was suddenly pushed into his hand. "Thanks," Jason said, eyeing the boy who invited him inside his home. Honestly, what was he thinking, inviting a drug lord into your home. Your supposedly save haven. Didn't parents teach kids not to trust stranger? Maybe not. Considering this kid did approach him first. What a useless parent that this kid have. The. Most. Useless. Parent. On. Earth. Poor kid. 

"So, wanna start answering my question, short stack?" 

The teen's eye twitch at the nickname. Jason smirked. Good, you do have an emotion. I thought that poker face is permanent.

Jason took a sip from the Green lantern theme mug, the hint of spice in the hot chocolate made him hummed in appreciation. God, this shit's taste amazing. A knock on the coffee table bring Jason's attention back to the boy who's sitting crossed leg on the couch opposite of him. The boy handed him a small notebook. On the note book, in a beautiful cursive hand writing, wrote something that Jason swore he would never forgot his entirely second life. 

You smell. 

"YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH ME YOU LITTLE SHIT?!" Jason slammed the half full mug on the table. Fuck this kid, his parents didn't teach him shit! 

Jason was ready to start screaming when the notebook was again trusted millimeters away from his nose. 

You smell like fire. Too strong. I can smell you coming near my window. Why?

Jason eyed the kid, what kind of nose that you got? You smell fire? Do fire even have smell? Kid's weird.

Instead of questioning the boy on his 'smell', Jason opted to asked something else. "Did I scare you?"

This time instead of writing his answer, the boy gave him the tiniest nod. "Why are you scared?” Jason asked again. 

The boy shrugged. 

"What's your name, kid."

Little fingers wrapped around the black gel pen, gliding elegantly on the cheap white paper of the notebook, before coming to an abrupt stop. The a little hesitantly started moving again, albeit with a little less grace. 

The boy stared at the pages containing few little words that he just wrote before flipping the note book so the letters were facing Jason. He didn't hand the notebook to Jason, instead holding them close to his chest. 

My name is Eli.

Jason stared at the name. Eyes boring hard into the three letters, heart heavy and his throat felt more like sand papers. He swallowed a couple times then moved his eyes to read the sentences below. 

But the other me have a different name. 

Jason didn't let his mind start working. Didn't let them start hoping. Honestly since before the boy even came to him, he knew, he's right. He got this far. He couldn't be wrong. Luck was on his side when the boy weird ability to smell him was what made him curious, and curiosity was what brought the kid to him. It killed him to pretend like he didn't know him. To pretend to be surprised. He wanted to hold him, the person he's spend the last three years searching. If he could afford to make fun of the situation, he would start with nomeenating himself for Oscar. 

Jason huffed then he glanced down a line. 

His heart thumpting in his chest, echoing in his ears. He held his breath. 

Do you want to know his too?

Jason looked up and nodded. 

The kid flipped the notebook again and after writing down the answer to his one question, the notebook was again on display for Jason's eyes. 

Damian.

Jason grinned.

Kid's not so lost after all.

***

Frantic fingers slamming the keyboard keys with no mercy. Red eyes glaring dagger into the bright illuminating screen, words upon words upon words appeared and disappeared behind one another faster than the eyes can blink. 

I got to find the magician. I got to find the magician. I got to find the magician. 

Frantic mind chanting the desire and desperation for answers. One that's he sure would never leave his mind unless he was able to get the answer. 

What did you showed to me. A dream? I need to know. An illusion? Don't messed with my head. A memory? Why did you showed me him. The future? Please, I need to know!

Please.

Let me see him.

Please. 

My little brother.