Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            “You promised me you wouldn’t leave me.”

            The grand staircase was too big. Much too big for such a young boy to traverse alone, but Bruce took to the stairs carefully. Alfred said that he was supposed to sleep and allow his small body to grow, but Bruce wanted to cuddle with his momma. She was with daddy in his study, and that was on the lower level. Below Bruce’s room. He couldn’t wait for cuddles!

            When he reached that bottom step Bruce shot off like a rocket for the study. His small feet padded loudly, though not through his lack of trying, on the tile floors. Though not silent at all, it appeared that his parents hadn’t heard him approaching the room at all. Their voices were soft but firm with one another. A tone that Bruce didn’t enjoy them using with one another.

            He peeked around the edge of the doorway and saw his mother near the fireplace, letter in hand. “I don’t like this at all, Tom… I-” Soft tears tickled at his mother’s eyes, they reflected in the firelight.

            “It’s for him, darling… I know the risk we are making at doing this, but I can’t stop thinking about that night. About what could have happened.” Bruce’s father appeared this time. Arms open to hold his now weeping wife. “If not for ourselves, we do it for him.” He whispered, taking the letter from her hand and throwing it into the fire. Watching it as it burned itself away into ash.

            Bruce opened the door wider and meandered in with a small smile on his face when his mother looked at him. Though still crying, she held open her arms for Bruce to run into. “Oh, my wonderful, and sweet boy.” She murmured into his hair, patting it down from where he had been rubbing against the pillow. His father patted his back and the three held themselves in a cocoon of happiness and serenity.

            “I love you, my dearest boy.” She whispered, hand gripping Bruce’s nightshirt.

            “I love you too, momma,” Bruce whispered back, laughing when his dad tickled his sides. “I love you too, daddy!” He gasped out through the giggles, laughing more when Thomas took him from his mother’s arms and twirled them around in the study.

            “You’ll be a greater man than me someday, chum. I can see it in you.” He murmured to Bruce, who was grinning at his dad. Martha was staring at the fire again, but there was a smile on her face this time. Like everything was okay again.

            There was a small cough at the door that caused them all to look, “I believe I put you to bed not even an hour ago, Young Master Bruce.” Bruce ducked his head into his father’s shoulder, who patted the youngest back.

            “Oh, he is okay, Alfred. He likely had just wanted to see us.” Alfred sniffed, but he didn’t seem in too large a hurry to get the boy back to bed. The two parents took that as a sign that Alfred wasn’t truly all that upset and went back to lounging in the study with the butler willing to serve them an evening blend of tea to help them ready for bed.

            “Some milk for the young master.” Alfred handed Bruce the small glass, and he took it gladly as he sipped at it as his mother did her tea. Alfred said that Bruce would get tea like momma when he was older. “I assume you both have finished your duties for this evening?”

            “Yes, Alfred. Thank you. You are welcome to go on to do your own activities this evening. Thomas and I can put Bruce to bed.” Alfred bowed but not before rubbing Bruce’s hair affectionately. The only gesture that Bruce got from the man that showed the man’s fondness for the youngest child.

            “Sleep well, young master. You and I shall pick the dill in the morning and some tomatoes from the garden. Your mother I’m sure would love to have some for her lunch tomorrow.” Bruce nodded and wished that he could hug the butler but knew that he would be reprimanded for such an act. Alfred was like a grandfather, but he was not family.

            With another bow, Alfred left the room.

            The mornings were always quiet at the manor, especially without Dick or Jason roaming around. The two of them tended to rough house if they were left alone long enough. Tim would get caught in the middle if he stepped into the room. Damian didn’t leave his room much, to begin with, but Bruce knew that Damian would likely take it too far if he didn’t realize they weren’t being serious about not hurting one another.

            That morning, however, it was only him and his two youngest. Alfred was piddling around in the kitchen, but the man only served breakfast and wandered off somewhere else in the manor to tidy up. The eggs were perfection, and the toast was golden brown. Tim moved the eggs around like they were disgusting to even look at, let alone eat. “You’ll need to eat something before we go, Tim.” Bruce nudged, trying to ignore the scowl that came over Damian’s own face when he looked at Tim’s fork, which was scrapping on the plate.

            Tim huffed a sigh, stabbing some of his egg before nibbling on it. It was likely cold at this point, but Bruce wasn’t going to say anything. It was within reason for the boy to be nervous. Today they were going to a hearing with his parents. They were going to be in the same room for the first time in over a year. If they didn’t count the one gala that they had attended and promptly left ten minutes later to catch a flight. Bruce didn’t count it, and he didn’t mention that the Drakes had even been there to Tim, just to save him the disappointment.

            “Why am I not allowed to go with you, Father?” Damian asked, drinking his apple juice slowly. He’d finished his breakfast around the same time as Bruce did, but they had both been waiting on Tim to finish up. There was no doubt in Bruce’s mind that Damian had wanted to be out of the room the moment he’d put his fork down.

            “It’s just a hearing. It will likely be boring, and Alfred had offered to stay here with you while Tim and I are gone.” Bruce explained. “Jason will be here too. Dick’s coming with us to keep the photographers off of Tim.” Though it was also to make sure Bruce didn’t do anything stupid. Jason had offered to come with, but the others had thought it was not a good mix. Jason was a lot more likely to throw a punch than Bruce was at this court hearing, but with the both of them there, the likelihood went up to 100%.

            Dick was the better option. Even though Bruce was sure that Dick wanted to make sure the Drakes didn’t try anything either. Bruce would take it.

            The front door slammed loudly, and Bruce could hear his two oldest as they wandered in. Dick was in the middle of an explanation as Tim scurried over and hugged Jason’s waist. It didn’t pause their conversation at all, but Jason wrapped his arms around the younger still, running an absentminded hand through the other's hair. The scene itself almost made Bruce ask Dick to stay behind instead, but the decision was already made earlier in the week.

            “Tim, go get changed,” Bruce called out, watching as Tim reluctantly let go of Jason to wander up to his bedroom. Jason watched him go and looked at Bruce with an intensity that made Bruce hesitate for a second. “We’ll go to the hearing. The lawyer doesn’t think it will be longer than an hour, but I would suspect that it’ll take a couple of hours from the time we get there to when we leave.” Bruce looked back at Damian, who was gathering his plate and cup before going to the kitchen. “I’ll call when I can but keep Damian out of trouble. This case is already too sensitive, there will be people outside here and there trying to find anything that they can.” Jason nodded, glancing at the windows.

            “I’ll keep an eye out,” Jason said, putting a hand in his pocket as he went upstairs to sit with Tim before he had to leave. Dick walked up to Bruce as the other disappeared.

            “I’m assuming that you’ll want me to keep Tim’s face hidden as much as possible?”

            “Yes, just until we know the verdict. The lawyers will know more, but they didn’t have any advice for going in. We know that well enough already for ourselves.” Bruce felt his chest tighten and release. He rubbed at his collarbone to get rid of the feeling. The shadows had been strained the past several days, and he’d tried what he could to stretch them out the night before. He practiced and had Alfred run simulation after simulation, but they still were high-strung. “Excuse me a moment,” Bruce murmured and stepped into the shadows.

            The inverted sanctuary blazed around him and he waited. The shadows wrapped up and around the house, moving with him as he checked in on Tim and Jason. Both of whom were just cuddling on Tim's bed, Tim without his suit jacket on, and just being with one another. Bruce was thankful for that brotherly bond that they had.

            In the kitchen, where he went next, Damian was grabbing a drink from the fridge. Dick seemed to wander in shortly later and they talked for a moment. Bruce let them have their private moment and went off to find Alfred.

            The butler, for the most part, was in the east wing. He was airing out some of the guest rooms. Changing the sheets. “Alfred.” Bruce stepped out from the realm and let the shadows expand from around him.

            “Master Bruce. I thought you would be getting ready for the hearing.” The butler stopped his duties to look at the other.

            The shadows around them curled and wrapped in the shadows of the man before him. “I was about to, but I needed to… stretch a bit.” The darkness seemingly purred as it wrapped around the shadows inside of his pants and settled with squeezing his legs for a bit. “They’ve been craving something…”

            “As they are usually to wanting it seems. You’ve said as much for the past two months, sir.” Alfred turned back around and fluffed up some of the pillows. “You should not worry yourself too much about it. I am certain that the shadows around you will not do anything to jeopardize the case with young master Timothy.” Bruce hoped that was the case. He didn’t want to run the risk of losing Tim entirely, and from the near-death grip on his calf, the shadows agreed.

            “Let’s hope that the court will see what we have seen from the Drakes.”   

            Jason watched Damian command his hell beasts around the small area. Throwing something now and again to see their reaction. Titus was more easily distracted than Alfred. The hellhound would light himself on fire whenever he was overly excited, and just combust when he got belly rubs. It would be adorable if it didn’t leave such terrible scorch marks on the floor for them to clean later. Alfred… was indifferent. He didn’t seem excited about anything. Except one evening when Jason and Damian saw him playing with a bat that had flown a little too close to the platform.

            He didn’t want to think about the screeches that the bat had made before Alfred inevitably killed the poor thing. Cats were brutal when they wanted to be. “So, when are you telling the old man about the two beasts you got here?”

            Damian shrugged, “Father need not worry himself. Timothy takes up most of his time as of late.” The other admitted. Hand skating over the dog’s side as he passed. “They are not as trained as I would like them to be. Father will not allow me to summon them if I cannot already show that I can keep control of them. As he does for his own shadows.”

            He would admit that it was a sound idea. Bruce would likely freak once Damian did finally admit to having some sort of ability. Though, that didn’t go to say that Bruce would ban Damian from using it. He had seen Bruce change a lot of his thinking about metas and how their abilities worked with his own discoveries. One of the JLA members had come to Gotham and Bruce hadn’t threatened them at all. It didn’t mean he was happy they were there, but Jason remembered the scathing comments when he had been Robin.

            Bruce had hated the idea of meta’s in Gotham at all.

            The alarm for the front gate sounded from the Batcomputer and Damian dismissed the two creatures. They watched the monitor and saw that Bruce, Dick, and Tim were back from the court hearing. “Come on kid,” Jason muttered, dropping anything bat related on the console before going for the stairs.

            They made it to the front door just in time to catch Alfred greeting the other three back home. Tim was asleep, head fully pressed into Bruce’s shoulder. Dick had a hand on Tim’s back, rubbing soft circles. Neither of the two of them looked happy. Jason could only guess what happened during the hearing. It was supposed to be broadcasted, but when Jason had flipped it on in the cave, he could stand to hear the play-by-play of the commenter. Damian had turned it off after they started talking about the accomplishments of the Drakes. They opted to hear it from the other three instead.

            “How did it go?” Jason asked, deciding to get to the point of the matter.

            “Not how we had hoped.” Bruce gritted out, letting Dick take Tim from his back and taking him upstairs. He watched them go got a moment before turning back to his other children. “The court is allowing visitation rights. Had tentatively approved overnight stays if the visits go well. Thankfully they listened to Tim when he said that he had no desire to stay or live with the two of them. But that was after Tim started crying on the stand from their lawyer asking too many invasive questions about his time with the Drakes just before we got custody of him.” Bruce sighed. “They called me to the stand and Tim started crying again when they asked if I had done anything to you or Dick growing up if I had a fetish for young boys, and we will just say that Dick had to take Tim out of the courtroom from how distressed he got.” Bruce rubbed his neck, and Jason could see the expansion of the shadows from his feet. “Thankfully, they didn’t have a lot to ask after that, and the Drakes seemed embarrassed enough from the outburst that they were just crawling up the walls to get out of there.”

            Jason nodded, “So some emotion from their son isn’t tolerated still, and I’m sure the cameras got a close-up of the devastation on your face when Tim had to leave. Seems to me like those Lawyers shouldn’t have been hired for a case that involves a kid.”

            “Tim is a teenager, or close enough,” Bruce stated, finally wandering further into the manor. “The court was willing to hear him out on where he wanted to stay. But that, I don’t think, will stop the Drakes from trying again another time to try and get him back. They likely will go through a few visitations before claiming that they obviously are good fits as parents to have their son back.”

            “You legally adopted him though.”     

            “They’ll try what they can. The court of public opinion is high with them on the high society side of things. I’ve stepped on a lot of toes recently.” Jason had to agree with that. Bruce had been directly giving his money to organizations and businesses lately and hardly been to galas for the ‘charity’ donations. Bruce had figured out that a lot of the organizers pocketed a lot of the money and decided that he would invest elsewhere. Jason couldn’t count the number of small business owners who now had a place in the food court of the W.E. building that Bruce had found and just asked to be placed in the tower.

            A lot of the high society was very pissed when Bruce stopped donating for a full year at Galas.

            “But you have favor with the average people of Gotham.”

            “That is our saving grace at the moment. There were a lot of regular people just outside of the courtroom making a walkway for us to walk out of the courtroom when we left. They’ll be hard pressed to say or do anything against us when the people who buy the product aren’t too keen to go against us.” Bruce smiled slightly and started up the stairs. “How was Damian while we were gone?”

            “Good. The little demon child was actually pleasant for once.” Jason didn’t mention the small scorch mark in the family room when Damian accidentally summoned Titus too early. “We messed around with some of the bow staffs in the cave to get some energy out.”

            Bruce nodded, “Good, good. I’ll go talk with him. Tim will probably sleep the rest of the day, and Dick will probably want to go punch on the bag for a while downstairs.” With that Bruce left Jason in the hallway, having stepped into the shadows to go find his biological son. Jason shook his head a moment before meandering to the library.

            There was something off about the whole conversation. Something that Jason couldn’t put his finger on. But he didn’t want to fester on it. He could look up the high lights on youtube later and see what Bruce had left out. Jason thought about looking now, but… He didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing.

            Besides, he could ask Dick later. It seemed something very untoward had happened and Bruce was a little shaken about it. Was it the visitation that had him so strung up? Or had the Drakes said something?

            Jason would talk to his older brother. Dick usually didn’t hide something like that for long. Or, perhaps, he could talk to Alfred about it. The older gentleman had turned on the court case when he and Damian had gone to the cave anyways. It was possible that Alfred would be willing to spill if it was said during the case.

            Satisfied Jason pulled out a Jane Austin novel and walked over to his favorite chair. He’ll figure it all out later, for now, he would relax with the comforting pages of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.       

Chapter Text

         “But I thought you would live forever… Now you’re gone.”

            His mother made the spiciest chili, it was from when she was a little girl. Her grandmother showed her how to make it and when she would cook it, his mother always said that it reminded her of her grandmother. His father always said that taste was tied to memories, that when people ate food from their childhood that it was usually tied to a memory of that time. His mother once said, “I can remember when she would put the bowl in front of me, always the same spoon that had a bird etched into the handle. I can remember the flowers she would pick and put near the window, how they smelled, and changed the flavor just slightly each time I had it. But I mostly remember the rain. Chili was always special for the rain.”

            Chili took all day to make. To simmer correctly, add the spices at the correct times. It had been raining since that morning, and Dick was excited to try the chili that brought such fond memories to his mother’s mind. “These chilies are from Romania, where I spent a large part of my childhood. I asked a friend to drop them off so I could make this just for an occasion like this.” Dick sat near the boiling pot most of the day with his mother, laughing and singing with her between the times of adding the spices. When his father came in with the meat, Dick could already tell that he would want this recipe for himself someday.

            When his parents kissed, Dick ducked out of their trailer to sit on the small porch. He needed some fresh air, he wished that he could go out into the open field that they’d settled next to for the day. Dick always had a hard time staying still. “Want to run around in the rain before I get changed Dicky?” His father offered Dick a hat, and they took off into the gentle storm.

            There was no lightning, just a drizzle of rain, but Dick flipped his head up to feel the droplets going down his face, sinking into the collar of his shirt. The cold of the rain was there but went away in a moment. The slight tingles he felt from each drop were almost invigorating. He felt a hand touch his shoulder quickly before he noticed his dad running away from him, a mischievous grin on his face. Dick smiled and took off after him.

            They played for a while before his mother called them back inside. Dick noticed the other circus actors watching them, all with smiles on their faces, but Dick could feel the pit in his stomach growling for warm food, so he didn’t stay to chat.

            Inside his mother had set out clothes for them to change into, and some towels to dry off in. “Clean up and I’ll ladle this for you!” Dick dried off as best he could, changing into the loose shirt and pants before sitting down at their makeshift table. His mother set the chili in front of him and Dick could smell everything that they had added that day. “Remember, eat slowly, savor it.” Dick nodded and when his father sat down, they all dug in.

            Sleep wasn’t a common occurrence the past few nights. Dick tossed and turned for the better part of an hour before he met up with an equally tired-looking Jason in the living room and tried to self-medicate with tea and a boring podcast about bees. They avoided screens if they could, Jason had been looking up how to sleep better and they both were desperate enough as it was. Dick even slept while his phone was in the kitchen! It was ridiculous.

            “I almost wonder if we need to do a sleep study…” Dick muttered, speaking over the voice of the podcaster. Jason shrugged, looking close to passing out but always snapping back when some of his tea would spill onto his pant leg.

            “That or get our beds tested. It feels like princess and pea, but I don’t think we have anyone hoping that we’ll not notice the freaking pea.” Dick nodded, setting his own mug down to rub at his arms. This was week two going on three of little sleep for the two of them, and Dick was about to call Alfred for advice. Lord knew that Bruce wouldn’t know what to say anymore.

            The sun was starting to peak over the first building, and he felt the groan that Jason let out when he saw it. “I’m going to murder, Dick. MURDER.” Dick smirked and grabbed the other mug.

            “Don’t be so overdramatic.”

            “I’ll be as dramatic as I want!” Dick didn’t doubt that. His former theatre nerd was likely singing from the chance to express an exaggerated emotion after the patrol that they had. Which had been a boatload of nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

            Nothing.

            Dick more than felt but knew it was etched into his bones that Bruce was going crazy with the amount of nothing that was happening. Jason was twitchy, and Dick was nearly frothing at the mouth to just charge someone with as little as jaywalking, but nothing. The city was so quiet that Dick was sure that even the alley cats weren’t stirring. “I think I’m going to drop by the manor. Tim’s parents are visiting tomorrow, I don’t know if I can keep myself from punching one or both of them in the face if I see them.” Jason sighed, rubbing his hands over his face as he got up.

            “Can say that again. I saw them at the trial, and I thought Janet’s smug face would be permanent the more that the judge said they’d be able to see Tim this week. Damn kid can’t catch a break.” Jason agreed with a grunt, “B is keeping Tim in tonight, saying he doesn’t want to risk Tim getting hurt and giving the Drake’s an opportunity to call him on abuse. Which is fair, but Tim really just…” Dick trailed off.

            “I know what you mean.” Jason finished it off, getting to his feet. “Come on. Maybe we can nap at the manor for a bit. Alfred probably has some tips for us.” They gather their suits to be cleaned, some overnight stuff just in case, Jason grabbed his latest baking creation, and they were off.

They took Dick’s car, as it was raining that day, and got caught up in Gotham’s morning traffic. Neither one was particular about what came on over the radio, but Jason grumbled when the radio went into static when a helicopter flew over. Dick’s eyes watched it the whole way, but when it turned Dick assumed it was the traffic report from the news symbol on the side. “Thought maybe that would be something,” Dick muttered, flipping the radio off when it sounded like nothing more than screeching.

“I thought they stopped doing the traffic report after that one Joker incident?” Jason pondered, scratching absentmindedly at his neck. Dick shrugged, grabbing the breakfast bagel that Jason had offered him.

“Guess the quiet makes them bold to try again. I think there was a sniper on the chopper as well.”

“Seriously?!” Jason sat forward in his seat, looking for the helicopter again but pouted when it flew further and further away. “Damn it, thought I would actually see something interesting. Why’d you have to tell me that?” Dick laughed before accelerating again to catch up to the rest of the traffic.

Wayne manor was serene, quiet, peaceful. Dick had come to know this place as home, ever since the fall. It took time, but Jason also got to feeling like the manor was a safe haven against the rest of the world. “Think Alfie had started brunch yet? It’s almost 10:30.” Jason grabbed his bag from Dick’s hand, taking the steps two at a time before opening the door and offering to hold it open for the older brother.

Both were shocked at the scene that they saw upon entering. The shadows were… encompassing. The foyer was almost pitch black, the only patches of brightness coming from the sunlight that trickled in through the windows. “B?” Dick called out, the voice seeming mute as it was thrown into the darkness.

“Old man?!” Jason hesitated at the shadow's edge, the ripple that followed from the shoelace just touching the surface making the shadows seem to almost deepen. Dick felt cold at the sight and heard a small cough from across the way. In the doorway leading towards the kitchen stood Alfred, who looked odd, seemingly floating in the darkness as the room next door was vibrant and bright.

“Apologies, Master Dick and Master Jason. Master Bruce, it seems is in quite the mood. I’d suggest coming around back.” Jason closed the door, exchanging a look with Dick before they booked it for the back entrance. When they plowed inside, Alfred already had brunch set up with small sandwiches, tea, and biscuits. “Ah, I see you are just in time for brunch.”

“What the Hell Alfred?” Jason exclaimed, kicking the door closed, narrowly missing Dick as it swung back towards the jam.

Alfred tutted, “Language, that will be $10 in the swear jar when you go to wash up.” Jason threw his hands up in the air.

“That’s not the point!”

“Manners are not something you need to throw out because something has happened.” Dick nudged Jason’s ribs to get him to focus back in. They both walked on to the kitchen and noted the lack of the two smaller boys. Whom they didn’t hear at all coming to the kitchen or near the brunch table.

When they wandered back in, the two took a seat across from the butler. “I think cucumber sandwiches were a bit too spring for now, so I went with a more decadent flavor pallet. Some French toast sandwiches, rather fitting for the coming fall weather don’t you think, Master Jason?” The youngest nodded and grabbed three sandwiches and a cup of Earl grey as Dick grabbed for his own two and a biscuit. He took a spiced vanilla tea for his own drink choice and just… sipped at it slowly. It was perfection, most of Alfred’s blends were always brewed wonderfully, but Dick added some milk to make it taste a little less bitter.

They sat for a little while, enjoying the brunch, but Jason’s shoulders grew tighter and tighter the longer that Alfred went without explanation. “I thought for sure that the roses would do better this year, but I think some worm got to them. I plan to see if there is something I put around them next year to help, and perhaps you boys can take a crack at it. My back isn’t as it used to be, and I could use the young help-”

“Alfie. We’ll help you next spring, but we’re more concerned about what we just walked in on in the foyer.” Alfred put his teacup back on its saucer and sighed.

“It started up just after Master Timothy went to bed. I wasn’t entirely certain until this morning, but those shadows are just… encompassing the entryway. I’d had to walk around to gather any packages that were dropped off, and Master Bruce won’t answer my calls to stop the bloody things from expanding further into the house. I fear he’s having an episode and is unwilling to allow me to know about it.”

“Episode?” Dick glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eye. The other was sitting straight up, eyes focused.

“Yes, they’ve been getting stranger lately. Your father’s claws are starting to come out again, as was common when he was first learning to control his abilities.” Alfred set his tea on the table and rose to his feet. “The Foyer is connected to the study as you know, and I know for certain that Master Bruce is in the cave now brooding over the visit that is to come tomorrow.”

Jason rose to his feet and started for the entryway. “Jason wait,” Dick called after him, both he and Alfred walking briskly behind the young male. “Don’t do anything rash, remember what happened with Tim?”

“The shadows wouldn’t harm us, Dick. I’ve traveled through them before.” Dick looked at Alfred who shook his head.

“When?”

“When the demon first came here to taunt Bruce. He got me away from it by taking me into the realm. I can navigate it, so I can get to B and maybe get him to let up on the shadow expansion.” Alfred hummed at the idea, and they all paused just a foot away from the doorway. There stood Bruce, face covered in shadows, hands blackened and looking burnt from the expansion. “B?”

The man in question looked up, but his eyes were purely white. Dick took in a sharp breath and watched as the shadows expanded out amongst the room, they cracked and splintered through the light until only the windows seemed to be spared. “Bruce… You need to take back control.” Dick tried to reason. Bruce didn’t seem to hear him, instead, the horns from his demonic form seemed to protrude from his forehead. He took small, measured steps towards them and Jason took a fighting stance.

“Master Jason, I do not think it is necessary,”  Alfred spoke with authority, pointing to the ground where the shadows were holding Bruce’s feet solidly. “I think this expansion is the shadows stopping Master Bruce.”

“From doing what?”

“I do not know. But Master Bruce does not seem to be in control.” Alfred walked forward, offering a hand to the shadows that seemed to curl around the butler’s hand before retreating once more. He hummed again and looked into Bruce’s face.

The billionaire was rigid, feeble in how he was holding himself. Poor posture and a scowl marred his face. “Master Bruce?” The figure blinked. “Are you alright?”

Bruce turned his head slightly, then took a deep breath. The shadows, it seemed, took that as some que. They rapidly started to gather beneath Bruce, pulling away from the walls and back towards their master until the room seemed normal, and Bruce looked close to his normal self. His hands were still black, but his horns for the most part were gone. All that was left were some retreating stubs appearing under the skin. “I… I’m sorry Alfred. I don’t know what came over me.”

He looked to his sons who seemed rather frazzled at how quickly the situation changed. “Dick, Jason I hadn’t expected you here for brunch.”

Both boys felt relief flood their bones as their father’s voice spoke. They didn’t want to fight, they never wanted to fight their father. “We needed to get some advice from Alfie, plus we needed to hang out with Timmy before those assholes showed up tomorrow.” The shadows flared for a moment before once more retreating.

“Yes,” Bruce murmured, “yes, I think that is a great idea. Tim will be very grateful to be with you today. I need to take Damian to an appointment with a physician later today. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the company.” Dick smiled softly.

“Appointment? Physical?”

“It’s required for him to attend the academy. He says that the league made sure he was in top physical form before coming here, but Lesley wanted to check him over anyways.” Bruce turned to the butler, “Not that she doesn’t trust you, but she does not think that the school would take your word for it.”

“No offense taken, Master Bruce.” Dick felt a chill run down his back, something he was familiar with when the shadows latched onto him for a moment. He glanced down at his feet and noticed that the shadows were curled and looked almost tired as they hung onto the darker areas of his trousers.

“I’ll leave you to find Tim. I need to eat something then gather Damian to get going.” With that, Bruce took off for the kitchen. The three watched him go.

“I suppose I shall drive them there, please make sure the manor is in one piece until we return.” Then Alfred left. Leaving the two to look at one another and ponder.

“That was weird, right? It wasn’t just me?” Jason nodded.

“Oh yes… Very odd. I didn’t think Alfred would be so passive about this.” Jason started for the stairway. “Maybe…” Jason paused midway and looked back at Dick. “If this gets any worse… We have to call the League.” Dick hesitated, looking back at where Bruce had retreated to.

He shook his head, “They don’t need to get involved.”

“We can’t risk anything happening. Not with the Drakes looking for us to mess up. Not with Tim on the line.” Jason took a step back down to get in Dick’s face. “I will not risk Tim going back to those narcissists.”

Chapter Text

            Antiques and other works were littered throughout the house, it was something that his mother had a specific house cleaner for. The woman who dropped by every week was named Patricia Wayland. She specialized in restoration and conservation of antiquities, and she was practically his mother’s best friend. She ignored Tim for the most part, and ordered him out of the room when she was handling anything above $1,000. “Children are not safe to have around such exquisite pieces such as these.” His mother never corrected the woman’s desire, she highly encouraged it in some instances.

            “Children are meant to be seen, Timothy. Never heard.” So, Tim would go into an adjacent room and work on his letters. Something quiet that he was sure he would not get in trouble for. He would watch Patricia from afar. Fascinated, but obedient nonetheless. She was always there all day, and she made a point to always work when his mother was also home. Tim could tell that the woman loathed Jack, his father.

            She would get this look in her eye when she’d look at Tim, sneering even. “Just the reflection of his less than reputable father.” Tim didn’t quite understand the insult until he looked up what reputable meant before bed. After that, he decided that he didn’t really like Patricia.

            When she would arrive, Tim would… Go to his room. When the conversation stopped, Tim would wander to the adjacent room and work. She never acknowledged him, frankly, ignored him completely. Always had a glass of wine with Janet and took off afterward. His mother was always so happy after she was gone, bustling with energy and talking his father’s ear off about all the new gossip that Patricia had informed her of. Tim didn’t see the appeal, and neither did his father. This was likely why Jack left on these days to avoid the woman.

            One day, when Tim was avoiding Patricia, Tim noticed that his father was in his study. Looking over maps and was on the phone with their pilot for the next dig. Tim wandered inside and sat down. He watched his father work, watched his exaggerated arm swings, and how he laughed. His father never laughed with his eyes.

            When Jack was done with the phone call, he didn’t look at Tim. As if he didn’t know he was there. Instead, Jack sat down at his desk and wrote more notes down. When the loud cackling laughter of Patricia and Janet carried down the hall, Jack’s face screwed up in contempt. “Blasted woman.” He muttered before rising to his feet to wander over to his bourbon. The term ‘Day drinking’ came to mind when Tim saw Jack down the glass in a single gulp.

            “Why doesn’t Patricia like you?” Tim pipped up, and Jack nearly threw his glass. The fear and surprise that Jack looked at Tim with was perplexing. Tim didn’t know what Jack had to be afraid of.

            When the older Drake calmed down again, he coughed. “Timothy. You’re supposed to announce yourself before walking into rooms.” Jack took a seat at his desk, a second glass of liquor with him.

            “Sorry…” Tim looked at the Tiger rug that Jack had brought back from a dig in India. He’d said that a Tiger had tried to attack them at the dig and they had to kill it. Jack got it made into a rug… “Why doesn’t she like you?”

            “Who? Pat? Oh, she doesn’t like anyone much, unless you count your mother. She used to curate at museums and your mother hired her to come here every once in a while, to see if anyone would be interested in what we brought back.” Jack took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know what crawled up her leg and died, but she just… Doesn’t like anyone.” Tim nodded. He didn’t understand but with how quickly Jack was going through his drink, he knew that he wouldn’t want to stick around.

            Jack stopped being friendly by the fourth.

            Tim curled into Jason’s side, watching the show that the other had put on but not truly taking it in. It was a black and white film, something that Bruce really liked, but Tim just kept repeating in his mind that the next day, after lunch, Jack and Janet Drake will be in his new home. Under the supervision of the state. Bruce isn’t allowed to be with them. Neither is Dick or Jason or Damian. Alfred can walk in, but he can’t linger.

Tim wanted to cry, but he was so tired of crying. Jason had come in that afternoon to be with him, and Dick had hung around for a while before he was called away to patrol. Jason offered to go with them, but Bruce had said he could stay just from how quiet it had been. And boy had it been subdued. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced Gotham at peace and with so much anxiety all at once.

He thought about asking Bruce if he’s ever experienced this sort of silence before, but he was still… Bruce wasn’t his usual self. Something was up. Tim knew that Bruce wasn’t thrilled with his parents coming over tomorrow, even though it was state-mandated. Tim hoped that his parents would be satisfied with just seeing him, he didn’t want to move again.

Tim blinked suddenly. He was crying again.

“Hey Timmy,” Jason’s hand came into view, wiping away the tears and offering a tissue as Tim’s nose started to run as well. “It’s going to be okay. We won’t let them take you away.” Jason murmured, rubbing his arm as Tim shook slightly from the idea that he could possibly be taken away.

It wasn’t likely. Bruce adopted Tim, he just didn’t change his last name.

It was fine.

Fine.

He was going to puke.

Bruce’s bed is a sign of comfort for all of his children, Tim had systematically learned this fact after witnessing several bouts of fear toxin exposure. Damian excluded, Dick and Jason both calmed almost immediately when they were in Bruce’s bed and curled up in their father’s arms. Tim got to understand why it was such a nice sensation when his own nightmares started to beat around him.

The comforting presence of Batman was just something you wished for when you are a Gothamite. So, Tim went to Bruce’s room. He waited under his covers and prayed that God would maybe keep the sun from rising for a few hours more.

Shadows around him shifted, morphed, and curled around him. “Tim?” The young boy curled up tighter and made a slight noise of discomfort. Not a moment later was Bruce in the bed with him, curled around him and holding him close. “Shhhh Tim, it’s okay. I’m here.” Tim knew that. He did. But the words, the gesture of physical contact. Tim felt so blessed and cursed at the same time.

Everything that Bruce has done for him, up to this point in his life, was everything that he wished his parents would have done. Stood in his corner, played with him, laughed with him, played catch, learn piano, anything would have been great if they had just…

Loved him.

“I want to hate them…” Tim whispered hand curling into the sleep shirt that Bruce was wearing. “I do hate them… But I can’t help but wish that they would have tried from the beginning.”

Bruce petted the top of his head softly, “I know.” They stayed like that for a while. Tim hiccupping sobs, and Bruce wiped them away when they made a trail again. When the sun peaked in, Tim heard Bruce hiss and cover the both of them in the comforter.

He looked to his father in slight shock, but the older man just smiled. “I’m alright. The stress is just making the shadow abilities more sensitive.” Bruce tucked a stray hair behind Tim’s ear. “Sleep some. I’ll wake you up with enough time to get ready.”

Janet Drake was immaculate. She wore a pressed blazer and white top, with a pencil skirt that went just above the knee. She wore hoes that darkened her legs slightly, along with high heels. Jack Drake looked ready to tackle a board room. Classic business suit with a red tie to compliment the red blazer and skirt that Janet was wearing. He could see his reflection in Jack’s shoes.

Tim wore skating shorts and a t-shirt with mismatched socks.

They didn’t look impressed, but Tim wasn’t trying to impress them. He’d tried for years, and the only way to really see if they’d changed was to go against what they’d taught him. Though it pained Alfred to let him walk in there without matching socks, he respected Tim’s decision and said he’d have a new pair ready for him when they left.

Janet’s eye twitched when she saw the socks. “Does Wayne not know how to make sure you look presentable?” Janet asked, the supervisor just enough away not to hear her. Tim sniffed slightly, seeing Jack’s shoulders stiffen from the noise.

“He knows I can dress myself. I was up late studying, and I didn’t have the energy to get fully ready. B thought I would want to change, but you were here early, so we just went with it.” Tim shrugged, he had made sure that the state agent could hear him. He didn’t want them to suspect anything on his part.

Janet’s eye still twitched. “I thought his butler would have more of a hand in raising you. I thought Brucie didn’t bother with the actual parenting.”

“Alfred mostly just cooks and cleans. We learn table manners from him, but Bruce spends the most time with all of us. Dick and Jason come around to help on Sundays when we try to help Alfred catch up with all the chores.”

“Surely he doesn’t need help from you. Wayne has the money to hire more help.” Tim looked out the window, his own eye felt like it was going to start twitching.

“B doesn’t like hiring more help. He said that one time a reporter disguised herself to get in and wrote an article about him and Dick that was untrue. There aren’t many people that B trust’s to be around us.” Tim smiled softly, he could see Bruce sitting out in the back garden. Hidden under the shade with the shadows willowing along with the tress own shadows. “He doesn’t want any of us to get hurt. Or worse… Not after his scare with Jason.”

Both of them stiffened up. “Yes, we remember that. Thought he was dead for… Four years, was it?”

“About that much time. Jason doesn’t remember much of it.” Tim brought his eyes away from the window. “How has the business been?”

Jack straightened up. “Has had its ups and downs. We are hardly at the mansion anymore, though we did move out of the one next door though you knew that we got a new place near Amsterdam, and it’s far bigger than the old place. You would love it!”

Tim smiled stiffly. “I’m sure I would.”

“The estate has a large garden in the back. Your mother has hired some of the best groundskeepers, and she has the most beautiful garden. The tomatoes are so large that I’m sure we could find one almost bigger than you are.” Tim let Jack ramble on. Janet glowed with the praise, though Tim wondered how often it was that she actually went into that garden and used anything that grew there.

They talked most of the time that they were there. They told Tim all about the digs that were memorable. The two hours that they were scheduled to have come to an end and Tim watched them walk to their car, but he felt the frown on his face deepen when as his mother passed by, she touched his shoulder lightly, “See you next week, Timothy. I expect you to be in more suitable attire next time.” Then she was swept into the car, Jack waving as they drove down the drive.

Like clockwork, Alfred stepped next to him and offered the other matching sock to his checkered. “I take it that it went well?” He inquired.

Tim took the sock and changed it out. He handed the other to Alfred and huffed, “I’m going to have to step up my game Alfred… I don’t think mom’s eye twitched long enough.” Alfred huffed a small laugh and they walked back inside.        

Chapter Text

            The safest place to be… Was under the table. Willis wasn’t prone to getting on his hands and knees just to get to him, and when Jason was out of sight, he was out of mind. Willis Todd was a crook and Jason knew that his dad didn’t care about him if trying to use him as a possible payment for some job was any indication. Catherine had stepped in on that one and told Willis that he’d wake up without his family jewels if he ever made the suggestion again. Regardless to say, Jason kept out of Willis’ way and didn’t talk to the man unless he had no other choice.

            When Willis was in jail for the second time Jason and Catherine were, relieved. Willis had taken up some alcohol addiction and it had been eating away at their savings. But with Willis gone, Catherine was squirreling away what she could so that they could move to a nicer apartment. One with actual A/C and maybe insulation. The saving didn’t get them out of Park Row, but it got them to a little bit nicer place with a unit in the window.

            It was in this home that Jason was curled up with his mom, listening to her read through Pride and Prejudice for the third time that year. “Do you think I could become like Mr. Darcy, mom? Rich, handsome, and important like he is?” Jason looked up to the figure of the man that Austin wrote in her novel. A man, unlike Willis, who cared for his fellow man if he had earned it. To look at an intelligent and gentle woman, and know that she would put him in his place should he step out of line. Could he be such an important man that everyone looked to him and wondered, what could I do to earn such respect from such a man?

            Catherine had hugged him tighter that night. “My love, you don’t have to be rich like Mr. Darcy to be like him.” She kissed his forehead, “And you are already more handsome than Mr. Darcy anyways. I’ll be beating the girls back with a stick if you grow any taller this year.”

            Jason tried his best. He learned what he could about gentlemen in the time of Austin to know what they expected and acted like. Though Jason didn’t know much of what the words meant, he thought of men today that would fit the mold. He looked up on the computers different respected men who made positive waves in society. Though there was a lot of activism Jason could feel how hollow most of it was. But when he found the men under the surface, those who didn’t make an enormous fuss… Jason decided he wanted to be like them.

            Those men knew who they were and were proud of the accomplishments they had created. Jason smiled and asked if he could print off some of the articles he’d looked up. The librarian had been kind enough to let him use the printer and even said he could have his small pile of pages for free.

            So when he went home and put them in his single folder for his important documents, Jason smiled. He’d look up to those men. He’d look up to a guy like Bruce Wayne.

            Rooftops were… Sacred in a way. His favorite Gargoyle was across from him on the opposite building, and it was soaked in the rain. He would have sat next to it in solidarity, but he was just not feeling like being rained on at the moment. Beneath him was pitch black darkness, something that had been starting to become commonplace when B went out into Gotham nowadays. Dick was in Bludhaven for the night, there had been a murder case that popped up and one of his old contacts got a message to him.

            He would be staying the night there tonight, and actually having some crime to stop. Jason and B took to the streets to see what was happening there. But for the most part, Jason sat around and waited, B ran through his route and tried to tire himself and the shadows out so that maybe his anxious energy would dissipate. Jason didn’t think it was helping as the foyer, by his knowledge, was still being overrun every morning, and Tim had mentioned that Bruce was avoiding sun patches like he was an actual vampire. “The moment he says he doesn’t want Italian you grab Alfie and the Demon spawn and you come straight to the penthouse.”

            That had been two days after Tim’s parents showed up, and Tim said that it was getting worse. Though Bruce did a good job at hiding it, he trained some of the best detective minds and his children could tell. Bruce was losing some sort of figurative battle with himself. It was excruciating to watch and observe. The shadows weren’t what freaked them out, barring the incident with Tim, it was the claws. His horns. The growing threat of violence got Jason and Dick worried when they were at their home and not in the manor.

            Alfred had mentioned time and time again that there was no need to worry themselves over it, but Jason hadn’t been so sure. He’d returned early to the manor the day after Tim’s parents were there and saw the man lifting a cross off Tim’s door. “Just precaution,” Alfred mentioned and didn’t speak of it again.

            Now, with a sea of darkness at his feet, and the rain disappearing into the abyss, Jason was inclined to doubt Alfred in saying that it was fine. The shadows were jagged and rough on the edges as they climbed the building. It was like they fractured and cut into reality, crumbling away the buildings around them until all that was left was the abyss.

            In the center of it, from what Jason could make out, was Bruce. He could see the whites of his mask in the very center of it all. As the shadows expanded, Jason could see Bruce’s hand spread out and then close into a fist. When he did this, the shadows would pulse in a way that Jason was sure was some… command.

            It was intriguing to watch from his vantage point, and when the rain picked up he felt the drops stop overhead as some of the shadows had absorbed the rain above him on a pole. It was… fascinating.

            It was an hour later that Bruce finally appeared at his side, the shadows now missing from their expansive reach, and he spoke. “Let’s head in. There is nothing going on tonight.” Jason nodded and rose to his feet.

            “Yeah… Think we could stop and grab a bite to eat? I hear Batburger has later hours this week.” They do end up getting Bat burgers before going home and burning the evidence.

            “I will never answer his call again.” Dick was covered, head to toe, in black oil and other stains. When Jason and Bruce had gotten back, they’d decided to spar to get some energy out. What they hadn’t expected was Dick to come in, Bike nearly trashed, and seething. “Sewer chase and a freaking swim through oil-infested water in the bay, NEVER AGAIN!” He trudged off to the showers in a huff, and Jason couldn’t help himself from doubling over and laughing.

            “Don’t make fun of him,” Bruce murmured, fighting his own grin when Dick yelled about the dawn soap not being where he’d put it last. It was shocking how often they got covered in something that was like oil.

            Dick stomped out and held up an empty Dawn soap bottle. “Where?”

            Bruce chuckled this time and wandered over. He went to their supply and from the shadows pulled out another bottle for Dick to take with him. The empty one fell into the darkness and appeared in the trash as Dick stomped back. Bruce went back over to Jason who just shook his head at the entire deal.

            “You’d think we would be more responsible.” Jason tsked, now stretching his arms out. “I don’t even know who used the last of it. I haven’t had to use it in a while.”

            “Alfred likely used up the rest of it for cleaning an oil stain under the car and was called away. I know we keep more in the stock closet so I was going to refill it tonight.” Jason punched his shoulder lightly.

            “Yeah right, you’re too spoiled to have considered doing that. “Bruce shook his head. It wasn’t often that he and Jason got along like this. Many a time, Jason was high-strung and on edge from patrol and had to watch his back for the majority of the time. Park Row was not kind to anyone who didn’t watch themselves. But Park Row was as silent as the rest of the city, so Jason wasn’t as keyed up after he’d gotten back as usual.

            Bruce had considered sending Jason with Dick earlier. Just to keep his senses sharp, but there was something in his gut, something that Bruce was too nervous about poking to offer the go-ahead on Jason going. Dick was fine, Dick made his own choices that Bruce had learned not to try and make for him. Jason was a similar type of beast, but Jason would tell to his face if Bruce did something stupid. Bruce preferred the more blunt approach to Dick’s ‘try to learn from your mistakes on your own route that he often took.

            “How long do you think it’ll take him to clean up?” Jason asked, now done stretching and starting for showers himself.

            Bruce shrugged, “An hour. He’ll not rest till his whole head doesn’t have oil in it.” Jason snickered and nodded.

            “Probably right there. Sucks that you only adopt kids with black hair, he won’t be able to tell.” With that Jason wandered into the shower stall and listen with a grin at Dick’s cursing and muttering under his breath.

            The penthouse was quiet, it seemed that Dick was able to sleep that night, Jason could hear his snores from across the hall. He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He was tired, exhausted even, but Jason couldn’t stop thinking about the abyss. The darkness that Bruce brought to the surface in the middle of Gotham that no one else was witness to.

            Perhaps Jason knew that it was something called, ‘The call of the void’ or some phycological term like that. He had wanted to jump, to see if the darkness would catch him, just like it had when he was 15 years old.

            That familiar darkness, something that he’d only known for a short time before coming back and coming back far worse with the Pit racing through his veins. He knew, knew that the void was a strong call. Especially when he’d succumbed to it before. But now. Now he didn’t think he wanted its familiar call to come near him. He was almost terrified of it.

            Bruce was going to lose all of them at some point except for Damian. He would be gone, Dick, Alfred, and Tim. Jason was scared for his dad, a life of loneliness that he… Didn’t deserve.

            He thought about Bruce’s parents, Thomas and Martha. How selfish it was of them to decide this for their son. To think that him living a forever life was better than a life with them by his side. Jason wished that Bruce had them to show his children off to. That he could know about the Martha who first put the library in the manor, who showed Bruce a love for the first edition collection that he’d been building even before Jason. Or the Thomas, who was a slight thrill seeker if Alfred is to be believed and would have likely been all about learning acrobatics to do them with Dick. To see their intelligence and how it would have helped to nurture the smarts within Timmy. How Martha would have cried seeing Damian and talked all about how Damian was the spitting image of Bruce.

            Yeah…

            He wishes he had grandparents more than an immortal father.  

            Jason sighed into a pillow as he turned over. It was close to dawn, but he didn’t think he’d attempt to get out of bed before 9 o’clock. From the sound of it, neither was Dick. Jason looked out the window, The rising sun bled through the streets, creating almost an eerie red glow to the city that made it seem like cuts through the very heart of Gotham. If Jason hadn’t known better, he would have thought he’d seen the darkness retreating like a soldier backing down in a fight.

            His eyes felt heavy. A knock at his door made him open them again.

            “Jay?”

            He rolled over and his clock suddenly stated that it was almost noon. He rubbed his eyes. Surely, he hadn’t slept that long. “You awake?” Dick’s head popped in from his doorway, sleep attire gone, replaced by athletic gear for when he was going to teach gymnastics and acrobatics.

            “I’m up,” Jason called out, pulling his legs over the edge and just running his hands over his face.

            “I need to get going, but Alfred’s quiches are on the island if you want brunch.” Jason nodded and listened as Dick started to walk away and head out the door. What Jason wouldn’t give for another five minutes, but he has places to be today. He has a lead on some actual crime happening in this city, and he wants to finally have something to do at night rather than twiddle his thumbs.

Chapter Text

            “You would have loved to meet me.”

            In the following weeks after their passing, Bruce would be curled up in the armchairs that his parents used to frequent. Many a time, Bruce would have Alice in Wonderland alongside him, the book that Martha had been reading to him when she’d passed. Alfred many a time felt his heart shatter over and over again to see the boy wishing to finish the story that his mother started.

            In time the boy would stop going to the armchairs for comfort. Stop sleeping in their bed and lock the room away just a year afterward. Alfred would watch his boy, the one Thomas entrusted to him, slowly wither away into a darkness that he was not sure the young man could crawl out of. It was at that time, when Bruce was going through his teen years, that Alfred noticed the first of the warning signs.

            The pills. The razor. The rope… None were used except for the pills as Alfred had spirited away the other two options as soon as he’d seen them. But the pills… Those were his anti-depressants. Alfred couldn’t take those away without it being obvious. One night Alfred did wander into the younger room and noticed the empty bottle. But knowing what he knew, Alfred got to work. He’d recently picked up a prescription of that bottle, and just refilled the thing, trying to remember how many he’d had left. Then he moved the boy into a more sleep-like position.

            When Bruce walked down the following day, he’d told Alfred that he needed to talk to his therapist again. Get a stronger dose. Alfred instead talked to the therapist and mentioned the boys growing suicidal notes. It was decided that Alfred would administer his pills after a heated discussion.

            Alfred, night after night, almost cursed the names of Thomas and Martha Wayne for leaving him with this boy without them there. Bruce wasn’t already interested in other people, and his depression willowed away at more of his personality by the day. The young master didn’t smile. He hardly ate. Bruce worked out far too much, Alfred sat by his bedside when he’d pass out after three hours of rigorous workouts.

            It all came to a head when the boy was seventeen. He had one close friend. Harvey Dent, but that lad was going off to Law school after he graduated. Bruce wasn’t interested in furthering his education. So, when he mentioned going off to places unknown, Alfred was nearly in tears with worry. He pleaded and told Bruce that he didn’t think it was advisable, but his young master was insistent. Alfred was close to saying that if Bruce went he would not be there when he returned, but he did not dare to make the boy think that he would lose him. He could not manipulate that boy that way.

            So, when Bruce suddenly disappeared to the middle east.

            Alfred waited.

            When the Drakes came for their second visitation, two days early much to Bruce’s displeasure. Tim was even more out of sorts than before, and he was rather rude to them when they asked about his school activities. He’d scorned Jack in telling him that he had no interest in sports and had instead joined the Robotics club. Bruce could feel Jack’s blood pressure rising just from that small interaction.

            Alfred had started stress baking immediately upon interacting with Janet. Bruce didn’t blame the man, Janet put everyone on edge. He was making scones and biscuits. Chocolate chip if the bags were to be believed. “It’ll be alright, Alfred.”

            “I do not wish to commit any vial behavior with those two present, more for Master Tim’s sake.” Alfred put his baking sheets in and grabbed the drinks that he’d prepared. “Excuse me, Master Bruce.” He let the butler pass and sighed the moment the man was out of earshot. The shadows pulsed a moment, then oddly enough settled. He glared at them a moment but didn’t think further on it once he noticed Damian wander in.

            He had dark circles under his eyes, not too noticeable on his tanner skin but there nonetheless. “I had thought you’d sleep in.” Bruce walked over to the cupboard and held out a glass to the boy. Damian opened up the fridge to grab some mango juice, something that Jason had brought by and swore by after Dick actually drank a majority of it.

            “I had something I wished to talk with you about, it could not wait until after the Drake’s had left.” Damian filled the glass and took a hesitant sip. It seemed to be to satisfaction as Damian didn’t set it back down until it was finished.

            “That good?”

            “Todd has outdone himself.” The boy muttered, hand squeezing the glass before putting it in the skin to be washed. “Might I meet with you in your study?”

            “Sure, we can -” There was a loud crash and shouting. Bruce took off for the receiving room. Damian was not far behind, but he composed himself upon entering. Tim was next to Alfred who was rather peeved at the state of his glass pitcher that was shattered on the floor. Janet was covered in the lemonade that Alfred had been serving, and Jack dabbed at the drink where it was splashed on his trousers.

            From what the two Wayne’s could tell, Janet was close to seething. Alfred, also seeming close to breaking his British stoicism walked out of the room to get a rag and the broom. “Do leave it to me, Master Tim.” He told the younger boy, who nodded and just backed away from the crash site. Bruce walked over to Tim, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking him over.

            “Are you alright, Tim?” Bruce asked, kneeling in a dry patch and running his hands over Tim’s arms. The boy nodded and jumped when Damian was at his side as well.

            “You have a cut, Timothy.” Damian pointed out, indicating the small puddle of blood that was starting to grow under Tim’s left foot. Tim and Bruce both blinked for a moment then Bruce grabbed one of the napkins that were nearby and sat Tim on the couch.

            He pressed the napkin to Tim’s foot and instructed the boy to, “keep that there” while he went to get the first aid. Damian sat next to Tim and observed the Drakes as they glared at Bruce as he left the room. Damian waited, just waited until his father was away before looking at the Drakes with his own disdain. “I thought I might ask what happened?”

            The Drakes glared back, attention on the foot of their son. “Your Butler clumsily dropped his pitcher of lemonade all over my wife without a single apology.”

            Tim stiffened, “That is not true. Alfred tripped because you wouldn’t move your foot out of the way!” Tim pointed at Janet, who looked so affronted that she actually put her hands against her chest.

            “You ungrateful boy, he should not have been walking there in the first place, it’s against etiquette.”

            “He was at the serving stage, he was trying to get my drink to me.” Tim sighed, a little bit of the fight starting to go away from him. The state-sanctioned agent was in the restroom, and really Tim wondered if his parents did this on purpose. When that Agent came back, Tim was sure that Janet was going to go off about how terrible Bruce’s staff was, how it was unfit for a child to be around. Even though there has never been a complaint about Alfred in his whole career…

Damian stood up suddenly and his eyes were wide. Tim scowled but followed his line of sight. In the corner, the darkest corner where Bruce’s shadows usually wisped around when they were watching movies together, stood Titus. His jaw leaked bright red flames, and his eyes glowed ominously. Though Damian’s hand was subtly moving, trying to dismiss the hound, Tim could tell that Titus was not listening.

It was unfortunate. Tim thought to himself. He really didn’t want to give his parents an inch. Quick thinking got Tim to sit up a little straighter. “Why don’t we go into town? Alfred will want to spot treat the rug and I’m sure that you haven’t had the chance to go out into Gotham proper in a while. I’ll get a bandage for my foot and get changed.” Tim glanced at Damian, who nodded along, still trying to dismiss the hound from taking any more advance forward. “Why don’t you tell the agent and wait for us at the front door?”

Tim watched his parents get up and leave the room, Tim could make out Alfred speaking with the agent already, which was a relief as his parents didn’t get to tell their story first. Tim just wished Bruce had waited just a minute longer before rushing in. When his eyes fell on Titus, Tim didn’t think he’d ever seen fear on Bruce’s face so blatant. He got in front of the both of them quickly and the shadows filled the room.

Titus was growling, flames starting to lick up his legs as he went to lunge at some of the surrounding darkness. “Tim I need you to take Damian and-”

“Father wait!” Damian jumped forward, moving more forward so that he was between Bruce and the hound. The change was drastic. The shadows covered the boy, but Titus went forward and nipped the shadows into letting him go. “Titus, heel!” The dog stopped abruptly and sat. Tail wagging and a huff of warm air left in a spurt into the air.

The room was silent, deathly silent. Damian’s head was low, almost below his shoulders with how much he was trying to hide. Bruce was stock still, eyes trained on Damian. It felt as if the silence would never be broken, but Alfred rushed in. “Quickly Master Tim.” He ushered, grabbing the first aid from Bruce and starting to help Tim bandage his foot.

“MASTER BRUCE.” That shook Bruce out of his still state and he pointed at the hound sitting by Damian’s feet.

“Take him to the study, my study. We are going to talk about this. Tim,” He turned to the other boy, “What is happening?”

“I needed them not to see Titus, so I said we’d go into Gotham proper. I’ll text Jason to keep an eye on us from the roofs. They won’t get away with trying anything.” Bruce nodded and took a deep breath.

“Okay… Okay. We’ll figure this out.” Bruce looked at Damian again, then down at Titus. “Get going. I don't want the Drake’s to see the dog.” With that everything was a flurry of motion. Damian took a back way that Alfred pointed out. Tim ran to his room and got ready, and Alfred walked with Bruce as he made his way to the front door to see the Drakes out.

Bruce made a show of telling Tim to call him if he needed Bruce to come to pick him up. “I think Timothy will be alright with his real parents, Wayne.” Bruce didn’t even glance at her and handed over a charging cord and a portable charger. Just in case the boy hadn’t charged his phone. It also doubled as a tracking device in case the Drake’s tried anything.

When Tim went off with them, Bruce felt the tension start again in his shoulders as he made his way to his study. “Master Bruce,” the man stopped a moment and looked to his father figure, “Do be patient with him.” Bruce nodded and started for his office.        

Chapter Text

            “You are the son of your father.”

            Damian could remember his mother’s face when he’d walked away from his tutor slowly bleeding out his body. She’d looked proud… In a reserved way. She didn’t say anything, just walked on as expected with him at her side. Like always.

            He’d killed five of his teachers by that point. Each has served their purpose and taught him the knowledge that he needed. There was nothing else to learn. But Damian had felt something within him that ached, every time he laid one to rest. As if it was something taboo that he was doing.

            Something instinctual.

            “You are my desert rose. My beloved’s son.” Talia never gave a name to her beloved. Damian could remember asking time and time again to know who his father was. What type of man he was meant to be like that fascinated and enraptured his mother so much? But Talia kept that secret close to her chest. “In time, my rose.”

            It was when he’d bested her in combat. When she finally gave a name.

            The Batman.  

            His father’s study was ostentatious. There were knickknacks everywhere, and photos of his family upon shelves. Damian stared at the lone image of himself when he was first starting to settle in when his father walked in. Phone in hand and a scowl on his face.

            When the door was shut, he turned his gaze to Damian. “Explain.” The boy glanced to the hound who had taken up a small spot near the fireplace… Or in the fireplace. The dog let the flames lick around his fur, and the smoke exited through the flue.

            “When you found me on that platform... When I was in my room, I felt worse and worse. When I looked into the corner of my bedroom, I saw Titus looking back at me.” Damian nodded over at the hound, who was now wagging his tail. “He was summoned in my time of need, along with Alfred the Cat.” As he said this the feline wisped from the darkness and curled around Damian’s feet.

            Bruce stared at the cat, brow furrowing further. “Why did you not tell me?”

            “I thought you would have been angry.”

            “I’m more upset that I was not aware that this is something I needed to look out for. What would happen if I took you to a gala and you accidentally summoned them?”

            Damian’s shoulders crept up to his ears. “I was practicing so that you would not have to worry about such things.”

            Bruce sighed and started for his desk, “I’m more worried that you could have gotten hurt than anything. What if they hadn’t listened to you?”

            The boy walked over to the fireplace and stoked the dog slightly with the poker to dislodge a blackened area to show the flames beneath. “I would have called for you if I felt there was a danger to me.” Bruce looked skeptical. “I understand that you would not believe that I would, but you have-”

            Jason stormed into the study at that moment, eyes narrowed, and an accusatory finger pointed at the patriarch. “Don’t you dare throw any shade at the kid, I am just as responsible for keeping the hound and cat from Hell a secret as he is.”

            Bruce raised a brow. “You knew?”

            “I was helping him. If I thought he was in over his head I would have told you immediately.” Jason glanced back at Damian and smirked. “Besides he was starting to get Titus to extend his range from him. The kid is talented.”

            “That’s all well and good but I’m going to need to see that for myse-” Bruce cut himself off and just stared at Jason a moment. Both of the boys looked at each other when the silence went on further and Bruce stood up abruptly. “Jason you were supposed to be watching over Tim!”

            Jason’s eyes widened. “What?”

            “Didn’t Tim text you? He said that he would text you.” Bruce was racing for his coat, his shoes, the keys… “He had said…”

            “Timmy did text but he was only able to explain that he was going to the diner near the old theatre.” Bruce felt his breath hitch. It’s okay. Gotham’s been quiet… Tim is going to be fine.

            “If he’s there still I can leave you nearby to watch out for him. If you go now you’ll be able to watch them leave and-” Bruce was cut off again by Alfred walking quickly.

            “Master Bruce, this is urgent. The state agent has just called, he said that the Drakes and Master Tim were missing after he had been finishing up paying for his meal at the diner.” Bruce’s heart started to race again. No. NO! He felt the darkness seeping into the foyer. The dark trendles as it readied to take him where he needed to.

            “B, it’s going to be alright. Dick is in town, I can call him and see if he can’t get an eye on them.” Alfred’s cell started ringing at that moment. Everyone’s eyes darted to the man, who grimly opened his cell to speak once more.

            “The Wayne estate. Alfred Pennyworth speaking.” They all waited with batted breaths and the look that overcame Alfred’s face was one of pure terror. “Of course, we will be there right away.” Then he hung up, and Alfred looked straight at Bruce as he said, “Master Timothy is being taken to the hospital. He’s been shot.” The darkness consumed the foyer and Bruce let out an inhuman scream.         

Gotham proper was less bougie and more run down than others likely were expecting. When Martha and Thomas Wayne were alive, it was said that the strip was the place to go when having a night out. It was now about or dirtier than the alleyways that people disappeared down. But there was one restaurant that kept up, even after the area went to pot. A diner that was frequented by the vigilantes some evenings and was heavily guarded by the locals to keep it open. They made the best-fried food, and the milkshakes were a national treasure to the people.

            So that was where he and his parents went.

            Though the code was rather lax in Gotham, the diner workers did their best to make sure that the place was cleaned up, and that people were able to have a calm and relaxing time while they were there. Though with Janet Drake staring you down and asking if they had any soy creamer for her coffee, Tim was starting to think that the diner worker might actually run to the store to get it for her. “I-I-I’m sorry Ma’am. We only carry milk based.”

            Janet’s nose twitched. “Well, that just won’t do. Perhaps your manager could come out here and he could explain to me while his establishment is not accommodating to his paying customers and why his wait staff is incompetent-” She started to go off.

            Tim jumped in before she’d make the poor girl cry. “Do you have any dairy-free options for creamer? If not, she’ll just drink it black. It’s okay if you don’t.” The girl nodded.

            “Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Tim wanted to glare, but he held back and just made a small usher in getting the girl to walk away from the table. “I don’t know where these people think they get off. I hope she knows she won’t be getting a tip.” Tim bit the inside of his lip and prayed that the girl had just blocked their table from her mind when she started to fast walk to the back.

            “Say Sport, I thought you’d want to go to that place near Wayne Tower. It’s got a view that’s to die for, and they serve Lobster and seafood dishes that I remember you used to beg for.” Tim could recall quite clearly how he’d been sick for days with food poisoning from that particular restaurant and had sworn off seafood since. He made exceptions for Alfred as he was a master chef and tried his food before serving it.

            “I was feeling something greasy. Maybe next time we’ll go there.” Tim fiddled with his napkin, though he knew that Janet was not thrilled with his fiddling, she was seemingly still miffed with the apparent lack of milk-free options on the menu.

            “It’s as if I’m going to a dairy farm.” Tim hadn’t realized that his mother was lactose intolerant, and had they mentioned it he would have chosen elsewhere, but now they were seated and Tim just wanted his milkshake before his mother decided to burn the place down in her rage.

            “I bet we could still go there tonight if we stay out long enough.”

            “I have to be back before 5,” Tim stated, giving his father a knowing look. Jack didn’t seem to notice, wasn’t really looking at him but through. Tim knew that he wasn’t important to them. Therapy made that obvious. Bruce cared. He’d already texted three separate times, wanted to know where they were if he was planning to use his own money to pay and to make sure he had enough in case he needed to get a cab. Though Bruce had nixed the last idea and said he’d send one if he couldn’t drive there fast enough. Tim read between the lines enough to know that Bruce would use his shadow abilities to come to get him if necessary.

            “Have you thought about sports since we last talked, Sport? I had noticed you’re looking a little rounder lately.” Tim never liked the nickname. Sports and other athletics were what Jack had enjoyed the most during his time in college. Tim was more interested in the actual activities that came from the robotics club and science club. As he had to be athletic for Robin, he didn’t want to give himself away by getting hurt for a sport. So, Tim opted out of those things and he didn’t really think twice. He got enough exercise as is. Jack’s comment about him looking rounder was also very untrue. Tim had started to lift with Jason, who tried to strengthen his core, so he bulked some there.

            He was not rounder due to fat.

            “I don’t have time for sports. Dick and I play basketball when he’s home, and Jason will run with me if I ask. He’s teaching me how to lift weights right now, but he doesn’t want to max me out cause he said it would stunt my growth and do more damage to my muscles if I went too heavy.” The answer was obviously not too pleasing to Jack’s ears, as he scowled at the mere mention of Bruce’s two eldest sons.

            “Yeah? Maybe he’s just scared you’ll outdo him.” Tim doubted it. He was built like his dad, lanky and thin. Jason had more of Bruce’s build, more broad and sturdy. Tim would like to do more of the training that Dick does, but Jason is more available than Dick at the moment.

            “I don’t think so.” Tim perked up when his milkshake was placed in front of him. He smiled at the girl after she’d set down the two coffees and a lactose-free creamer and smiled back at him. Tim planned to tip the girl before the left, a sorry for having to put up with Janet.

            They sat silent for a while, the two stirring their coffees for a while. Tim slowly sipped his cold dessert and thought about how Alfred would likely admonish him for ruining his dinner, but he also thought that Alfred might be a bit lenient. After all, he was spending all this time with his ‘parents’.

            After Janet had taken a large and rather stilted drink, she put her mug down and folded her hands on the table. “Timothy. Have you thought about staying with us for Christmas?” Tim stopped drinking his shake. He wanted to be petulant, but it was simply a shock to the system. He knew that it would be too soon for them to be allowed to have him sleep over.

            Christmas was not too far away, and Tim wasn’t sure if Bruce would let him be anywhere with them for that long. “I haven’t,” Tim stated truthfully. He hated the thought of it.

            “We’d considered going abroad. Maybe somewhere away from the miserable cold that Gotham always has over it. Don’t you think? I know how much you hated the cold when we would call.” Tim glanced over at where the court-sanctioned officer was sitting—giving them some privacy, and taking the time to write up reports it seemed. He was sure that the officer wouldn’t approve of this idea at all. Tim could not leave Gotham with them at all…

            He shook his head, “I hate the summer more.” Tim murmured, his shake now sitting like a rock in his stomach. His finger twitched for his phone when he glanced back and saw the blistering glare that Janet was giving him at his refusal.

            “Surely Wayne doesn’t have all that much time for you during the holidays. He has an entire company to run, employees, and parties to go to. I can recall him taking those two strays to the gala’s every once in a while.” Tim gave Jack a blank stare.

            It wasn’t that he didn’t know Jack’s opinions on Bruce adopting both Dick and Jason, he was just tired of hearing them be referred to as strays, especially after all these years. Dick was rather respected in the high society world, by others outside of Gotham. Jason had a good reputation with the ‘common’ people in the city. He advocated for more funding in the poor areas to give them programs for kids to go to after school and keep them off the streets. It was working well. Crime actually went down 1% this last year because of all that Jason was doing in programs. Tim did not agree with the phrase strays.

            “Dick and Jason still go to those, I go too now,” Tim stated, swirling his straw in the melting shake.

            Janet snorted, “Surely, he doesn’t expect them to do anything of value at these galas? They don’t have the correct touch. Nothing like you sweetheart.”

            He’d been groomed from the day he could walk how to walk the room of a gala, who to talk to, how to talk, and who was the most important. It was surprising to Tim that Janet didn’t know how important Bruce’s kids are to him. Tim thought most of Gotham’s high society was stupid for thinking that Bruce would think any less of his children just because they weren’t blood-related.

            Bruce was raised practically by a man who had no relation to him through blood…

            “Dick told me that he has to hide during gala’s cause a lot of the girls try to get him to propose to them. Jason said he had the same issue until he just started to ignore them. I stick near him when I see them coming.” Janet’s eye twitched. It was true. Most of the time Dick hated the corporate talk, and the women were ruthless. He hid a lot during the gala’s and often times just tried to entertain kids that were attending.

            Jason was just a wallflower. Listening in on conversations that he had no business listening to. He’d stopped three trafficking rings that way just from his knowledge of code words. “They think their slick, and that no one knows what they’re talking about when they talk like that. I guess Mr. Hollard just forgot that I had heard him refer to his ‘jewels’ a time or two when he’d gotten a fresh shipment of migrant girls into Gotham to sell.” It was unsettling, but that was what happened when you became Robin. You learned about the detestable and learned how to stop it.

            Bruce would, for now, keep Tim at his side. He didn’t trust most of the people there. Men or women from getting some bright idea and whisking him away. There had been several close calls with Dick and Jason over the years, so Bruce just learned to keep the youngest close and let the two oldest keep an eye out.

            Janet set her coffee mug down, hard enough that the liquid within sloshed around, spilling slightly over the edge. “I see… So you aren’t using all that training that I gave you then?” Her manicured brow arched in that way that meant Tim should expect to go straight to his room when he gets home. But Tim knew that he could go to Alfred or Bruce… He didn’t have to listen to that eyebrow anymore. “Pitty. All that talent wasted on a Wayne.”

            Jack shrugged, “What could you expect dear? Wayne hardly has decorum himself.” Tim clenched his fists in his lap. He’d text Bruce to get him out of there. To send for the shadows to grab him, but he knew if he left early that they would just growl and gripe for more time the next time they visited. They want their two hours, they’ll have it. Tim started on his shake again but scrunched his nose when the shake entered his mouth slightly warm. He glanced around for a vent, something to explain why his shake was warm so quickly.

            “Don’t waste your food, Timothy.” He swallowed the warm treat and scrapped his tongue on his teeth. It tasted rotten almost. It hadn’t tasted like that earlier. A customer shifted in a booth nearby and Tim glanced over. The man was in a blue puffer jacket, jeans, and sneakers, and had a beanie hat on. He made eye contact with Tim, but the man instead glanced at his parents before going back to his meal in front of him.

            “Timothy.” He brought his attention back to his parents. “That shake is hardly gone. Finish it.” He looked at his parent’s plates. Jack was done with his food, and Janet had nearly finished her coffee. Tim knew that they still had about thirty minutes left until he could go back to the manor. Go back to his real dad.

            He’s not your dad.

            Tim winced at his inner thoughts. It was true, but Tim still considered Bruce more of a parent than either of the two in front of him. Tim looked at the officer for a moment before trying to drink the shake again.

            It was still warm.

            When they settled up the bill, Tim paid for his own shake cause he didn’t want them to say how they had provided for him or something like that, they stood outside of the diner. The officer was settling up their own bill when Jack grabbed Tim’s arm and the three of them started on down the road.

            “We need to wait!” Tim panicked, trying to take his arm out of Jack’s grip. But the man held strong.

            “He’ll catch up,” Jack said with a strained smile. Tim didn’t believe that for a second.

            “Let me go,” Tim stated, still tugging at his arm. He could hear Janet start to talk on the phone, it had sounded like she was prattling off their address, likely calling for a cab. Tim knew one thing for sure, he did not want to get in that cab. “LET GO!”

            Tim resorted to pulling Jack’s hand close and biting. Jack yelled out and Tim took off back towards the diner. There were curses and more profanities as Tim took a sharp turn to try and outmaneuver Jack’s longer legs. “Get back here, Timothy!” Tim glanced back and saw both of his parents coming after him.

            If he could make it back to the officer he could convince him that he wasn’t feeling well. He would try to get back to Bruce. My phone! Tim felt for his pocket, but nearly cried when he didn’t feel his phone there. He must have dropped it somehow.

            Tim felt more tears prick the edges of his eyes and he nearly cried out when Jack caught him around his middle and lifted him up off the ground. “Stop squirming brat!” Tim tried to grab hold of Jack’s face, trying to get him to let go.

            “Keep a hold of him, Jack. The flight leaves as soon as we get to the airport. Then we can leave this God-awful city.” Tim was crying, hoping that maybe the shadows around him could send Bruce a message, and tell him what was happening. Could just…. SAVE HIM!

            A gun cocked at the opening of the alleyway and Tim dropped to the ground. He landed in a puddle, his socks got soaked from the rain puddle he’d landed in. Sniffling, Tim looked up and gasped at who he saw.

            It was the man in the booth.

            “L-L-Leave M-Mr. Wayne’s s-son alone.” The man was not well. Tim could tell that he was… On something? Tim wasn’t sure what. Bruce wouldn’t let him get near the people who were experiencing a rough trip.

            “Mr. Wayne’s son? He’s our son!” Jack growled.

            “That meat head had no right to adopt my son without so much as a permission slip from me.” Janet hissed at the man, oblivious to how shaky the man’s hand was around the trigger of the gun.

            Tim watched the barrel, making sure that he was away from where it was pointed. He didn’t have much of a chance to get far as Jack grabbed a hold of Tim’s shirt. Keeping him near them. “Y-you neeeeeeeed to leave.” The man gasped out, finger starting to twitch.

            “OH? I think it’s you who needs to-” Tim gasped when Janet dropped suddenly, crumpling like dead weight. Jack cried out for his wife but was soon muffled as well. But Tim didn’t see his dad crumple… He felt white hot pain and the world around him suddenly went dark.        

Chapter Text

 “I wish Mister Wayne had been able to make it.” Alfred nodded solemnly along with the doctor’s words. The hospital was bustling with reporters and other staff who were trying to keep the vultures at bay. Mr. and Mrs. Drake had already been taken to the morgue, and Tim was laying in his hospital bed, asleep. “It’s miraculous really. I think the responder that thought Timothy had been shot had been mistaken. I’m sure it was just the shock that knocked the poor kid out in the first place. We’ll go check on him together and once he’s checked over, we’ll be able to put him into your care once again.”

The butler nodded again, glancing back at Master Dick who was answering some questions so that they wouldn’t be grilled when they left the hospital. Someone of staff must have leaked the ordeal, or it was a passerby… Alfred wasn’t too sure, but he knew that sending Richard was the best option.

Jason was trying to calm Master Bruce at the moment and the hell hound that Master Damian could summon seemed to be keeping itself between Damian and Master Bruce… It was rather hectic at the manor.

Within Tim’s hospital room, Alfred was relieved to hear the heart rate monitor so steady. “As I said, I think the first responder was wrong about a bullet hole appearing on Mr. Drake’s chest. I think they were a little traumatized. This was their first call.” Alfred sniffed and nearly gagged at the high smell of rotten eggs that came from the man’s breath. The doctor jumped from the Butler's reaction and checked his breath. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I had an egg sandwich and I usually brush afterward. This took precedence, I’m sure you understand.”     

Alfred reached into one of his pockets and produced a breath spray for the doctors. “I do, sir. You would not be shocked by the number of times that I have had to give that to Master Wayne.” The doctor laughed and used the spray quickly before handing it back.

“Thank you,” he wandered over to Tim and double-checked the reading. “He should wake up any time now. Depending on how he handles high stress he’ll either be tired or he’ll be awake for a while. Fight or flight is one hell of a drug to the system.” Alfred nodded his agreeance. Tim’s eyes were moving rapidly underneath his lids. “I’ll leave you to him and direct Mr. Grayson to this room once he’s finished up.”

The doctor left not a moment later and Alfred took a seat next to his young charge. “Oh Master Tim… I don’t know what happened, but you’re safe now.” Alfred took the younger boy’s hand and gently moved the hair out of his face and nearly gasped at the dark black veins that he could see just under the surface.

No…

Alfred looked back at the door again and back to Tim. Quickly Alfred looked over Tim’s clothing for where the first responder thought he saw a bullet enter. Sure enough, there was a hole. He could see what the doctor might have taken as a mistake. There wasn’t any entry wound, but the shirt that Tim wore had a hole that looked as if it was there from someone grabbing him too harshly. If Alfred had to guess… Jack had a hold of the boy when they were shot. Jack had been shot twice, once in the chest and once in his hand. It was likely the man who shot them was trying to protect Tim.

But Alfred couldn’t know for sure. The man hadn’t been well… He didn’t stick around. In a very permanent way. Alfred sighed and put his head in his hands. How did this happen again? “Alfie?” Master Dick’s voice carried from the doorway, and the younger man made his way over to the Butler. “Is Timmy, okay?”

“Master Timothy is alright,” Alfred sat back up properly. “He…. I will explain when we are home, but I need to know how master Tim feels currently.” Alfred glanced at the door and gently shook the youngest’s shoulder.

It took a few more jostling’s but eventually, Tim opened his eyes. “Wha-? Alfred?”

“Hello dear boy, I’m sorry to rush you awake but we need you to answer something.” Tim rubbed his eyes and sat up, smiling at Dick when he noticed him but eventually moved to give his attention to the Butler. When he was settled, Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Tim, how are you feeling?”  

“Uh, alright? I’m a little nauseous but I think that might be from painkillers?”

“You were not given painkillers, Master Tim,” Alfred explained gravely. They’d wiped Tim off, and had given him some fluids when they initially thought he’d been shot, but there were no painkillers in the boy's system.

“Oh… I thought that I had been…” Tim looked down, right to the place where Alfred had examined earlier. “Did I just imagine it?” Dick and Alfred exchanged a glance with one another before Dick walked out to grab the doctor.

Alfred started to gather up their things, quickly, “There is not much time to explain dear boy,” the Butler started to take off the shirt that Tim was wearing and replaced it with a shirt he had brought. “If the doctor asks what you remember, you will tell him that you passed out from seeing both of your parents being shot. Do you understand?” Tim’s eyes were wide, his tears were forming at the edges of his eyes. Alfred felt terribly for the boy, but there wasn’t time for crying when they needed to leave. “I’m so sorry, my dear boy… I know… I know it must be hard.”

“They’re… dead?”

Silence rang for a moment and Alfred sighed heftily. “Yes, I am afraid so. The gunman was a crack shot apparently.”

“But I’m still-”

“I can see that, Master Timothy. But that is something I will address when we are in a more private area.” It wasn’t much longer afterward that Dick returned with the doctor.

“Clean bill of health in my medical opinion.” Alfred very much doubted that, but he didn’t say anything. He knew that this day would haunt the boy for the rest of his life, but he was not going to mention anything more. The man still smelled of eggs and Alfred was keen to get as far as he could.

Tim’s eyes, from what Alfred could tell, were vacant and just stared blankly at the doctor who offered him a sugar-free lollypop and sent them on their way. There was no press to greet them, thankfully. Dick seemed to have worked his magic and sent the vultures on their way.

“This way Alfie. Some will be watching in the bushes.” Dick directed them to a side door that revealed a sitting and a waiting car for them. Out of the driver’s seat came Jason, who took Tim’s hand and directed the boy to the back seat.

When Tim got in with Dick, Jason turned to the Butler. “He’s holed up in the cave. On the ceiling. Clark is there trying to calm him down, but I don’t know Alfie… This is so…”

“I understand, Master Jason. Let us show Master Bruce that Timothy is alright, and perhaps he will gain control of himself again.” Jason nodded and hopped into the back.

Though Alfred was a dignified gentleman, it was all of his effort to not go crash down the road to get back to the manor as soon as possible. When they started to turn away from the hospital, Alfred looked into the rearview mirror and nearly bristled.

The doctor was watching them from the corner. A grin covered his face.

Chapter Text

            “I destroy all that I hold dear”

            “He’s self-destructive, self-sabotaging, and… Just angry in general.” The therapist that Bruce had taken Jason to was one of the best in Gotham. Jason refused to go to anyone outside of the city, as he was afraid, he would be put in a psyche ward if he unloaded his issues on them. “I’d recommend anger management. There are a couple of groups that gather in some of our centers that I could recommend to you that would be for children around his age. It’s sometimes best to know that you aren’t the only one going through this.”

            Jason had only been back with the family for two months, and he’d tried to stab Dick twice, and nearly hurt Alfred. Bruce knew that attacking his grandfather figure was what made Jason desperately go to him for help. But he wasn’t sure what Jason would want to do. He was still fifteen. He didn’t really age after he died. But Jason looked different, he was bigger, looked much older. Bruce was sure the boy was wanting to… Make the choice himself. “I’ll talk with him about it, should I call your office if we need those recommendations?”

            “Yes, that is fine. I won’t be in Wednesday, but I’m usually here every day Monday thru Friday. Emergencies are for the weekend.” Bruce nodded and went to the waiting room where Jason was sitting, head in hand.

            They were quiet for a lot of the drive back. Jason took up a different room in the manor for now until he could legally live on his own. It broke Bruce’s heart, but he knew that Jason was more independent than he gave his second child credit for. Jason knew how to care for himself, he could do it. Jason likely would need the space and place to retreat.  

            “She said I’m crazy… Didn’t she?”

            “Just angry… Some self-sabotaging… Destructive behavior.” Jason put his head in his hands again and sighed. “It’ll take time to work through the pit, Jay… It’s why we have you doing this.”

            “I almost hurt Alfie, Old Man… I can’t risk ever hurting him.” I don’t think I could forgive myself. Went unsaid as Bruce stopped in traffic for a light. “Do you think Alfie is okay enough to make some biscuits for tea? I’m feeling…” Bruce sighed sadly but nodded.

            “I’m sure Alfred would love to make some biscuits for you…”

Shit.

Shit, shit, SHIT!

            Jason jumped the gap between buildings, heaving heavy breaths as he looked behind at the growing mass of darkness. He dropped to the alley, taking sharp turns trying to get to Park Row, a territory that he knew far better than the bat. Somewhere he might stand a chance.

            He threw himself into the turn as he could hear the loud screeching behind him. Crashing into the bins. Its inhuman hiss followed after him as Jason grabbed onto a railing to get back onto the roof. His grapples were cut, both of them. The buildings were closer together in this area, he didn’t need them. “Jaaaaaaaaaasooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnn.” He cursed under his breath as he kept moving.

            The rain from earlier that night had left puddles on the rooftops, they splashed harshly up his legs as he ran through them. He had no doubts that the water was rather useless in hiding his scent from the creature. It made his limbs feel bitter cold and only made his shake worse.

            Creaks and groans from the fire escape made Jason push on further. He would be there in two minutes. He could do this! Jason screamed when a piece from the fire escape hit him squarely on the back and caused him to fall over the edge of the building and right into the conveniently open dumpster.

            Jason groaned from his sudden stop. How did I even get into this position?

            The best way to put it was writhing mass. Clark had tried his best to get Bruce to come down from the ceiling of the cave, several of the bats were gone and flown away from the sheer amount of movement the shadows were creating, but the ones left were screaming. Batting their wings to try to leave with the rest of their colony. The shadows held vice grips on them as if they were what was keeping them around.

            Damian had tried to help, somehow, but ‘Titus’ as Clark had been introduced to, had stalked around the boy until he had to walk away and back up to the manor. Clark knew that Jason had gone to go retrieve Tim from the hospital and that Bruce was just… worried about his son. He was certain that B would calm down once Tim was back home and safe.

            Which should be any minute now…

            “Leave… ME… BE!” The demonic voice hissed at Clark again, this time allowing for some of the darkness to sharpen and shoot toward him. Clark ducked and maneuvered out of the way of the projectiles.

            “Well, that’s rude,” Clark stated, glaring up at the ceiling. Bruce hissed from the darkness and some of the bat’s pleas were silenced and some of their bodies dropped to the ground in hard thumps. Clark’s heart clenched at seeing the poor things, so ripe with life not too long ago. He should have helped them… Clark took a step back, floated backward, and gave Bruce the obvious space that he desired.

            More hissing and writhing later, but Clark was more focused on the sound of a car coming up the drive. A little faster than normal, but he was sure it was just Alfred wanting to get all of his charges in one place. Clark let out a sigh of relief when he could hear the crashing footsteps coming down the stone steps. “B!”

            Of course, the first being to arrive is Dick, shortly followed by Jason, who had Tim on his back. The writhing mass of darkness went stock still at their arrival. When Alfred wandered down, Damian now close at his heels, Clark was a little shocked when Bruce started to drip down from the ceiling and back onto the platforms. His form slowly took shape from the darkness, though it was nothing in detail. He only looked like a shadow of the bat, pure darkness, horns, and claws present, but he stretched out a hand towards the boys.

            Cautious all of them took a step forward. Shuffling slowly and softly as they took one step closer. Bruce didn’t move an inch, but if Clark didn’t know the man so well, he would have thought he was waiting to strike. But the man was holding himself back, from pouncing, from holding onto his boys and never letting them go again. When they got close enough, Jason put Tim down and the second youngest held out his hand. “I’m here, B.”    

            Clark could feel his heart melt from how carefully Bruce held onto Tim’s hand. “Tiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmm… Ssssaaaffffe.” With that, Bruce’s darkness started to fade. The darkness in his skin grew down back to his fingertips, though it seemed to be a great deal of effort for Bruce to throw back the darkness again. “Oh gosh, Tim.” Bruce fell to his knees, grabbed his son, and wrapped him in his arms. “I thought I had lost you forever.”

            “At least we know how you’ll react if one of us does die,” Jason stated, a slap following from Dick who was glaring at the other. Jason rubbed the upper part of his arm where he’d been hit.

            Superman sighed and put both feet back on the ground. “I’m just glad that you’re back to yourself.” Bruce looked at Clark and stared wide-eyed at the alien.

            “When did you get here?”

            “I’ve been here the whole time.” Bruce blinked and looked to the others for confirmation. Jason nodded and Damian was stone-faced, not bothering to acknowledge the super.

            Bruce looked back to his friend and rose to his feet, “We’ll need to update the League logs. I don’t remember you being here at all.” Clark nodded, tilted his head slightly, and shook his head.

            “Duty calls, we’ll call a meeting soon. Get this sorted out. I don’t like how quiet Gotham has been lately.” Bruce looked away but nodded nonetheless. He didn’t want to mention that he thought tonight it would be rather busy.

            The super left as fast as a speeding bullet and Bruce turned back to his children. “I… I don’t know what to say to you.” Bruce put his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I’m glad that you’re alright, but Tim… Your parents. Are they..?”

            “Gone sir.” Alfred pipped up from the back, all eyes turning towards him. “They were DOA. Both of them. The nurses said they… Died at the scene. I’m sorry Timothy. I know that you did love them.”

            Tim nodded, but his eyes didn’t tear up as they had expected. Instead, the younger turned back to his father figure. “They were trying to take me to the airport. Said that you couldn’t take me away… I tried to run away, but dad had longer legs than me. Then that man showed up and…” Tim pressed a hand to his chest. That’s when the tears started to show again. This time it was Dick who kneeled down to hug the boy. “I-i-i-I… I thought I was going to…”

            “It’s okay Tim,” then the waterworks started. Tim was gasping, sobbing. Everyone, minus Damian who felt more awkward than anything, felt sympathy for the boy. Three of them had watched their parents die in front of them. It was… Starting to seem like a pattern.

“I’ll go make tea, shall I?” Alfred bowed slightly and started for the stairs. Bruce felt slightly torn but with a look from Dick, Bruce went after the Butler.     
            “Alfred, wait.” The butler didn’t stop, not until they were in the kitchen and the man turned on his heel and looked straight at his employer and saw the haunted look in his eye.

            “Master Bruce… I think someone made a similar deal for that boy…” Bruce paused and stared at the other.

            “But… He’s here. Alfred, Tim’s alive I don’t-”

            “You do not understand me, master Bruce.” Alfred held out a shirt, the same shirt that Tim had been wearing to lunch with his parents. “The same deal, that your parents made for you.” Bruce took the shirt and near the chest was a bullet hole. It was covered in small patches of blood. But distinct.

            The shadows swirled around him. Bruce gripped the shirt tighter.

            What utter bullshit   

Chapter Text

            The penthouse was quiet, serene in a way that the manor, Dick felt, did more naturally. This space felt artificial and fake in a way that made Dick hope to never bring a girlfriend back to. He’d always taken pride in how authentic he could make any space be and feel. He worked hard to make the Penthouse feel like someone, two someone’s, lived in it. Blankets were on each piece of furniture, pictures took up the wall space (Dick had hung up family photos, while Jason decorated with different art pieces he’d picked up), plants were in every window space, and Dick tried to make sure there was a spice like scent throughout the apartment.

            Jason was impressed after once when a housekeeper stopped by and made the place magazine worthy, how quickly Dick was to make the space homey again. “I didn’t think you had the desire to do cozy after living with Bruce.”

            “He wears cashmere sweaters to relax in, he is the epidemy of comfort! Have you never worn his socks?” After that conversation, both boys would come back to the penthouse with new items to add, anything to make the space theirs.

            Now, the familiarity of the penthouse was almost suffocating. “I’m gonna--” Dick indicated towards the T.V. Jason shook his head, collapsing into the couch with a groan.

            “I’m not in the mood for one of your sitcoms, Dickface. Put on a record or something.” But Dick wasn’t in the mood for music, so he went for the electric fireplace. He pressed the button to kick it on, and the crackling was enough noise to displace the quiet. “This is such a… Shitshow.”

            “You’re telling me.” It was after Tim went to bed and Damian went to his room for the evening that Bruce told them what Alfred had discovered.

            “Who would make the same deal? Who would want this for Tim besides one of us?” Bruce faced away from them, looking into his study’s fireplace while the Shadows danced in the flickering darkness.

            “I don’t know, Dick, but someone didn’t want the Drakes around anymore and we’ll need to find out who it was.” Bruce turned to the both of them. Jason was sitting sideways in the plush chairs that Bruce kept near the sofa that Dick was sitting on.

            Jason fidgeted with a pencil, twirling it through his fingers as he thought. Dick’s leg was bouncing sporadically, keeping no real rhythm, simply going faster when he got more lost in thought. “So… Who do we start with? If it’s his parents who even made the deal, well that’s done. We have no one else to look for. But your parents were probably shocked to die that night as well, and-”

            “It’s not so simple. Alfred told me they knew the price was their lives. They lived every day like it was their last, and that’s why they took me to see that film that night… Perhaps this was last-minute guilt?”

            Jason snorted. “Guilt? After leaving their kid alone how long? No. My guess is they thought they were doing it for themselves and were going to off Timmy themselves to have immortality.” Dick cringed at the implication that Jason was suggesting. “More to my concern is… How are people finding out about this deal with devils? Is there a book we can check out and burn from the library?”

            Bruce had turned back around, but he did chuckle at Jason’s question. “No… No, it’s not a book. Alfred isn’t sure how they conjured the demon, just that they did. This is something that you don’t just stumble upon.”

            Dick piped up, “They travel a lot. It isn’t like Demons are only known to frequent the U.S. maybe it’s from their last dig?”

            “That’s a possibility,” Bruce murmured, shadows expanding then shrinking suddenly. “We’ll pull their last dig site, and see what we can find about where they went.” They both nodded in agreement. “For now, get some rest. Go back home, I won’t force you to stick around here. I know that you’re likely tired of me anyways.”

            Jason snorted, but Dick scowled at Bruce, “We aren’t tired of you.”

            “Well that’s good to hear,” Bruce smiled and indicated for the door, “But you might if you stick around here. Go, and I’ll see you both tomorrow for patrol.”

            That had been over two hours ago. They were exhausted, but those boughs of insomnia hitting them were just as bad that evening as the last. Gotham, thankfully for once, was still quiet. Bruce had opted to stay home. But there was still tension in the air.

            Something was happening.

            “You don't suppose that Bruce would let us take the night off tomorrow night to do you?” Jason asked from his position on the couch arm thrown behind his head and leg kicked up to his side his gun was out on the coffee table to be cleaned but he didn't make any indication that he was going to do anything about it. Dick scoffed kicking his own feet from where he was on the recliner spreading his toes out so that way the fire would heat up between them.

            “Who knows…” Dick glanced out of large Bay windows that overlooked Gotham, “with how this city's been the last couple of months I don't think the Drakes dying was enough to break that silence. something big is coming Jay and I just… it's like I can feel it in the air.”

Jason huffed and started to sit up from the couch “They say it's bad luck for you to talk about things like that. You better go find some Soothsayer or somewhere in town maybe they can save your butt from total damnation from this city.”  

Though Dick lived in Gotham since he was 10, some of the legends and rumors that always popped up about the city always seemed to rub him the wrong way. Superstition was not something that he was unfamiliar with, he grew up with a Romanian family there were a lot of traditions in his family that he simply heard about in practice, but not as much as he once did. Nowadays he just remembers the traditions he doesn't really bother with the practice. People started to act strange when you did it in practice. “I'll take my chances with the city. It's allowed me to live this long.”

“If what we just learned about Timmy is anything to go about, I don't think you should be making jokes about dying.” Dick felt he had to agree. Bruce has been acting strange, stranger than most other times. All of this was still so new to them, he wasn't entirely sure what immortality meant for his father and he still wondered how it was affecting him mentally. Though Bruce had admitted to going to therapy before Dick wasn't so sure that he had gone to even discuss this with his therapist. He knew that Bruce used a league-sanctioned one as well so it wasn't like he would be giving away anything if he talked about it.

Jason let out a loud yawn. “What I wouldn't give for 8 hours of sleep. Just one night uninterrupted I might even start going back to church.”

“I think you say that every year and you still end up going. I don't know if they teach you anything there.” Jason grinned and just glanced over at Dick.

“Father Thomas is one of the best priests Gotham has had in a while. I'm not saying you should bring B to come to see him, but you haven't been hit by this demonic thing yet maybe it could give you some protection.”

“As I said before I'll take my chances.” Jason shrugged off and shifted so that he stayed facing towards the coffee table instead of away he propped his feet up on the coffee table crossing at the ankles and just throwing his hands back behind his head as he tried to relax into the cushions.

Being called up to the watchtower was not something that often happened to Bruce. He usually communicated with the league through text and if he was needed, he was requested but he had never been ordered. After his last outburst and with Clark being present it was obvious that something was going to have to change in his file, contingencies were going to have to be made and he knew that he could trust them to take him down should there be anything that happened to him… mentally.

It was to be a founders meeting only, something that Bruce was grateful for as he didn't want all of the league to know that he could be compromised at any moment. Though Green Arrow wasn't present he knew that he was going to read back over these meeting notes. Bruce was honestly shocked that Oliver was actually going to miss this meeting at all. Hal of course was glaring looking over the Bat with a critical eye. “So what, Spooky is just possibly a serial killer? We already thought that there was a possibility of that happening.”

“I think you were just afraid of him killing you after the last prank war.” Flash had butted in between taking large bites of all the food that he brought to the meeting. Apparently, he had run into one of his villains on his way there, they had taken too much of his energy and now he had half of the watchtower's food supply in his lap. Bruce didn't want to see the financial report if it could help with his anxiety.

Diana placed her hand on the table to draw attention to the big three near the front of the room. “This is not a laughing matter Batman could be compromised and we need to be prepared if our strategist is not there for us.”

Superman turned to look at Batman, “Do you wish to be present or do you want to go back to Gotham while we strategize?”

“I'll stay here it's more likely that you'll have to be very random in order to go against me. With my immortality, it'll be hard to take me down so you'll have to find a permanent solution that can contain me.” Several heads nodded. “On top of that I can leave through shadows it'll have to be a Lightroom essentially. I had one constructed in the back cave, but I can construct one here so that we can make sure that no shadows would possibly be an option for me to disappear into. Though that doesn't go to say that I know exactly how the demon thinks when I transform into him.”

“Makes sense that you wouldn't remember,” Hal stated most likely thinking about the time that he himself had been taken over by an evil entity. They didn't talk about that.

“I couldn't recall that Clark wasn't even there in The Cave with me until Robin had to come back into the room. I am not present when I go into this full demon form. I'll have to run some tests to see what triggers it but I'm afraid that I might be too busy in order to do all the necessary precautions myself.” J’onn nodded from across the table.

“We can certainly start the tests here and then bring those results to you when they are complete.” Batman nodded. He trusted that J’onn would know what to do and that the result would be accurate especially if they got Flash on it as well.

“So, we will start the process of building your containment and we will make sure that you cannot get out of it,” Diana spoke bluntly making sure that they all understood the assignments that they were given. “I hope that we will not have to use these against you my friend but considering how you think of us I do think that this is also wise to do for you.” Bruce nodded and finally looked away from the table. He prided himself on his control but this situation just turned his stomach and the shadows themselves were just tightening around his limbs again. He felt constricted, he felt unsafe, but he knew that the shadows were just trying to bring him a form of comfort that they just didn't understand.

He would have to work on that.

For now, the meeting was adjourned, and everyone started to zeta back to their home cities. When Bruce got back to Gotham he listened to the city. He hadn't taken his tube that was in the back cave and then wanted to clear his head with the drive. On top of that, he wanted to give himself a little bit of presence in the city to deter criminals if he could. Sometimes just him merely driving by was enough to give them a little bit of hesitance.

All of his children were home tonight. It was something he was thankful for. He was tired of them getting hurt for a cause that he had started so long ago. Though he doesn't think that he would change it for the world, it had led to him meeting most of his children.

As Bruce had been driving, he noticed a small patch of light coming from one of the alleyways. A blue light. He slowed the car and decided that he was going to hop out to investigate. Usually, a blue light meant a flashlight and that usually meant robbery. But as he neared the entrance to the alleyway, he could tell that this was not that similar to the light. What Bruce saw he wish that he could unsee. A creature one that he could not even begin to describe was hunched over the body of some thug that happened to, unfortunately, to be there and his body moved along with the flashlight, still clenched in his fist, and the Hellfire that came from the demon's mouth.

Chapter Text

I don’t want to do this.

I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS!

“Dad… Please…”

The shadows weren’t an option. The demon’s fire lit up the area around them enough that it would make it near impossible for him to appear in the demon’s blind spot behind him. When it had noticed him in the opening of the alleyway, Bruce thought that his ears were going to burst. Its screech was similar to most of the noises that he made.

Nails on the chalkboard.

A sound that sent automatic chills down his spine. The smell of sulfur and hellfire burst into his nostrils, and he had half a mind to just turn around and leave the beast to its obvious meal. The man was dead, that much was already obvious. Guts don’t come out like that without you already being dead, or close to it… He was sure the heart was already gone.

The demon took a step forward, claws now clicking on the ground as it squared up to the Batman before him. Now, Bruce thought, would be a good time to transform. But he didn’t feel the change, the shadows were swirling, but they didn’t react out of anger or a need to fight. They were curious.

What do they know?

The demon walked forward, almost stalking, but what intrigued Bruce more was that the fire had calmed down. Its flames reflected in the beast’s throat, through some holes that apparently acted as its nostrils. “kcsssstttssssss…”  It was similar to the sound a train engine makes when the hydraulics disengage.

Bruce felt his throat contract and respond. “Grrrrb.” The demon snorted but did not come any closer. “I suppose that’s it then,” Bruce muttered, backing away slowly to go back towards the batmobile. When he finally touched the familiar metal, that’s when the shadows jerked and Bruce watched as a second demon descended from the rooftops, claws out.

The shadows erupted from beneath him and pulled him to the shadows beneath the car. Instinctually Bruce set the car into autopilot, and he went along for the ride. The shadows hissed and mutated when the beast threw fire to try to deter the shadow's help. Though Bruce was practically a passenger, he tried to take note of the differences.

This one was larger and slightly darker than the other. The eyes were a bright blue rather than the yellow of the other. This one had a tail, one that whipped around and set ablaze the oil-filled water that was on the street. Bruce made a note to contact Jim to make sure he knew what was happening.

The shadows cried out again in their bond and Bruce took that as a sign to take control over again. He popped out from the realm into his driver’s seat and took over. Though he knew he was solo that night, he almost wished one of his boys were out here with him just to have a springboard for ideas.

The batmobile slammed to the left as the demon now caught up next to it. Its hellfire eyes was trained on Bruce inside of the car, and its teeth gleamed from the bright fire that was coming up through its mouth. Bruce pressed a button on his dash, that blew out an extinguisher for when there were fires on the car.

The beast bellowed, nail scratches and all. But that didn’t stop the blasted thing from lashing out and finally nicking one of the tires, causing the high-speed chase to stop before Bruce lost control of the car. The car would be fine, it would repair itself and he could go on. But the car had to stop in order for the repair to actually work. Bruce gritted his teeth when the beast started to walk out towards him as the car began its process.

He jumped out from the driver’s side and grappled to a nearby building. The beast bellowed, and Bruce took off. He had no doubts that the thing had every intention of eating him. I’m not adding that to the chart.

Though Bruce didn’t see it, he knew that the beast was following him. He could hear the knocks of trash barrels, and the scared yowls of alley cats as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. It was when there was a human scream that Bruce stopped and doubled back. The scream was of a young man, his skater-esk hair, and roller blades indicating to Bruce that he was either going to the skate park or coming from it. Either way, he chose a bad night to take a shortcut.

The beast lunged, apparently intent on making do with smaller prey. But Bruce jumped through the darkness to get between them. The beast’s teeth sunk into Bruce’s arm, and the kid took off, crying out for someone though he wasn’t sure who it was. Either way, he was gone, and Bruce took to smashing his fist into the beast's face to try to get it to release.

Its grip was tight, blood dripped from its jaw the more he struggled. It was the thrashing that started which made Bruce begin his own yelling. Though it didn’t sound human either. When the beast hit bone Bruce felt the change. His skin grew darker, and he felt the horns starting to grow.

With his other hand, he released his claws and slashed down toward the beast who cried out. Taking his chance Bruce slashed again, this time noting the gush of the demon’s hellfire rising to the surface to spill out. “Leave this city!” Bruce cried out, taking a more defensive stance when the beast was far enough away.

“This city,” the beast started to answer, “Belongs to all of us now.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. It can talk?

“Not here,” His eyes narrowed, “Leave.”

The beast seemed to chuckle, hellfire still pouring out from his wounds. “A simple creature. You are not the master here. Only a fledgling who has yet to earn his wings.” The beast sat down, its breathing becoming labored. “Your horde, those younglings you have around you will know and suffer the consequences of your actions.”

“You know nothing of them.”

“I know enough from what ^$&%^#& has told me.” Bruce shook his head. The name… He didn’t understand the name. “You are weak-willed, young, hopeful. The fires of hell will trickle through your veins and bring upon your worst fears and bring you to the brink. You’ll suffer, everything you must suffer, and when it is all over, and you are crushed by the weight of what you have done, you will cease to exist.” Bruce clenched his fist ready to take on the beast again, but it faded away, a grin on its face.

“Pennyworth had mentioned you’d gone to bed. I thought you might still be awake.” Tim was sitting up in bed, reading. Jason had recommended the book to him when he was unable to sleep. A book that he and Bruce had read together first until Tim felt confident enough in his own skill to read it alone. The Hobbit was quite advanced in his opinion.

“I couldn’t sleep. Alfred said that Bruce was going to the Justice League to discuss something. Probably what happened in the cave earlier… Do you think Bruce is in trouble?” Damian wandered in his hellhound at his feet. Tim smiled at the presence of Titus, who wandered over and nuzzled gently at the boy’s arm to get some soft pets from the boy.

“Tt, as if they could punish father for anything.” Damian sat on the bed next to the boy, taking up space on the other side and shivering slightly from the chill as Alfred wandered down from the bedpost above them. The cat settled in Damian’s lap as the boy scratched him on the neck. “Pennyworth was not forthcoming on when he would return, I saw it as my duty to attend to you in father’s steed.”

Tim giggled at the wording, allowing Titus to settle on the floor next to them. “You talk funny, I don’t think I noticed before.”

“I do not… I was just-”

“Uncomfortable? Bruce says that Jason gets that way too.” Damian’s face heated up and he looked away to instead stare at the hellcat. “Jason took a long time to get used to me in the manor. It took Dick locking us in the library together for him to really open up to me. I guess the whole… Revealing Titus and Alfred to Bruce probably was really stressful.”

“Yes…” Damian shifted slightly, “Father still has not said much about them. I do not think he approves of them, but he was very concerned about your disappearance and reappearance. All the same, I am still nervous as to what he will have to say.”

Tim glanced down at the hellhound and shrugged, “Titus hasn’t done anything to hurt anyone here. I know that my leaving was more the result of them showing up, but… I don’t think B will be that upset with you. He just doesn’t really like surprises.” Damian considered it a moment before nodding along.

“Perhaps you are right Timothy.”

“Tim.”

Damian looked at the other at the quick retort. Tim smiled slightly. “My mom… She always called me Timothy. I don’t really like being called that… So, I like being called Tim.” Damian blinked slowly, and nodded.

“Tim…” Silence settled between them and Tim thought about going back to his book but Damian pipped up again before he could open the book again. “What happened in that alleyway, Tim?”

The older boy considered the question for a moment, “Alfred said that I was grazed and that the impact with the ground knocked me out… Or that’s what he said the doctor said. In the alley, my dad grabbed me. They were going to take me out of the states, take me regardless of the state-sanctioned visits that they were allowed. I guess the press was getting to them after the formal adoption that Bruce did… I… I don’t really want to talk about them right now.”

Damian’s shoulders crept up to his ears. “Apologies.”

“No, it’s… It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to… Want to read with me?” Damian glanced at the novel and noted the dragon that was flying across the cover.

“A knight’s tale?”

“More a hobbits tale.” Damian blinked.

“What on Earth is a hobbit?” Tim smiled and opened the book at the beginning.

Sleep had been so rare.

It felt amazing to finally drift into that slumberland.

Awaken Grey Son.

He just wished when he opened his eyes that he knew where he was.                       

Chapter Text

            What have I done…

            To a nine-year-old who had not even a penny to his name, Jason still remembers the grandeur he held when he first walked into the manor. The handcrafted wood frames adorned each doorway. The grand staircase led to the entrance to the house. The gold cast… everything that was metal. Bruce had let him look at and touch almost everything that he was allowed. Alfred let him touch and see even more.

            It was the library that captured Jason entirely. If he was going to be thrown back out on the streets the next day, he was going to weep only for the vast number of books that he had not been allowed to lay his hands on. The sonnets and poetry that Jason had created to describe how he had felt had nearly won him a couple of awards when it came to school. But he was getting off track.

            Bruce was in the library, scouring over notes, and Jason felt his eye twitch at how close the man’s coffee was to some of the older tombs. “That spills,” he points to the mug, “I may just retract my willingness not to take lives. Specifically, yours.” Bruce spooked slightly, as much as it were possible, and Jason noticed the drops from the coffee go into the shadows. Well, there is that. Jason stomped further in, hands slamming down on the desk in front of his father figure, who still looked haggard for a man who didn’t need to sleep anymore. “You know where Dickhead went?”

            The elder blinked slowly. “I swear, I thought I did something,” Bruce muttered under his breath, though Jason caught it from sheer proximity. “No, your brother did not mention doing anything today. Other than staying home.”

            “That’s what I thought he had said, but he was gone this morning. Poof.” Jason flicked his hand open above his head as if releasing something into the air, “Gone. Won’t answer his cell. Thought I might use one of your trackers to just make sure he’s alright.”

            Bruce blinked slowly again, “Your concern amazes me as I’m sure you would never go to this length for me.” Though the words were soft, and with mocking sadness, Bruce still rose to his feet. “But I suppose current circumstance puts me low on the totem pole of whom to worry about.”

            Jason smirked, “What made you think you were ever high up, to begin with?”

            “Mm.” They made their way to Bruce’s study. Bruce opened the entrance to the cave, and they made their way down the steps.

            “So,” Jason glanced at the darkness around them, the shadows were liquid, following along like a lazy river, “What are you researching in the library?” Bruce tilted his head slightly as if listening to something but righted himself just a moment later.

            “Supernatural occurrences in Gotham,” The shadows spiked suddenly before returning to their fluid state, “I was hoping to learn more about my condition.”

            “The immortality?”

            “To that effect. Yes.” Bruce’s hand trailed up the wall for a moment, disappearing into the darkness and reemerging with a book. He tossed it to Jason, who caught it with ease and looked at the cover.

            “This is dated to be when the Mayflower first arrived.”

            “And yet, they talk about a strange artifact that could be what is attracting all of the demons to the city.”

            “Demons?” Jason paused a moment, “You mean more than one?”

            “…”

            “I don’t like that silence; it means you're holding back.” Jason caught up to be next to Bruce, pointing the cover at the other and pointing to the title. “This is a bunch of first-person accounts. I should know, I read it for a book report.”

            “They didn’t give you all the accounts. Some were omitted for being too ‘scary’ and ‘inappropriate’ for your age when the school did that project. This is the original manuscript as most of those letters that were not allowed were directly linked to the Wayne’s.” Jason scowled.

            “The old school system jipped me of more tales from Gotham’s founding?”

            “The school didn’t want you to read about orgies and blood sacrifices that occurred in the catacombs below Gotham five years after they were established here.” Jason blinked. “Yes, I think the school was right to not let you read those accounts. The man who took in these notes for publishing specifically gave those back to my father after he’d read them. They do not hold back a single detail.”

            Jason bit his tongue and left that where it lies. Though it did bring up a question, “When did you read the left-out chapters?”

            “I read them when I got back to Gotham the first time. I’m fairly certain I couldn’t look Alfred in the eye for a week after he had warned me against reading them.”

            “Why did you read them?”

            Bruce shrugged one shoulder, “I was learning. Taking in everything I could get to know about the city that I might not have known before. I didn’t want to only know Bristol, but I wanted to know about crime alley, the high rises, the narrows, and every other place. I was not just a tool for the rich, I was a protector to the most vulnerable of this city.” Bruce glanced over at Jason with a soft smile, “I wanted to know what made Gotham…. Gotham.”

            Jason looked to the cover once more, noting the careful craftsmanship of the leather, the imagery of the floral patterns, and the significant symbol of a… “Is that a bat?”

            Bruce nodded, pointing to another bat in the opposite corner. “Turns out, bats were more abundant back then. Used like cats for their sacrifices.”

            “Why not use cats?”

            “Not as easily found apparently. Not here at least. It wasn’t until after several natural disasters that the bats were later considered sacred to the cult and other animals were used.” Jason blinked back some form of shock.

            “Cult?”

            “I did mention the orgies and such, yes? All of that was with the cult.” Bruce finally stepped into the cave, Jason now flipping quickly through the manuscripts. “Though the cult still wanted to sacrifice bats, they had to change tactics after they were split. There became two rising factions in Gotham. The bats vs the other night creatures.” Bruce turned back and flipped to a specific page that Jason hadn’t yet gotten to. There Bruce pointed to the image that was carefully hand drawn. “Owls.”

            The image was of a bat and an owl, caught in a spiral with one another. Claws intertwined and both faces grotesque in their death spiral of trying to get to the other. “If you’re familiar with the story of the two wolves in Norse Mythology, Gotham only cared about the night. Hati was the wolf who chased the moon and was considered to be “He who Hates”. Some of my ancestors ascribed to remembering his name but wanted to disconnect from their Norse ties as much as they could, and named the bat, “goddess of shadows” Quses. The name of the Owl was “god of secrecy” Ynanh. Like Hati and Skoll they were birthed from the moon, forever chasing another to see who would return to the moon once the other was gone.” Jason blinked in confusion.

            “Return to the moon?”

            “Their mother. The moon brought along chaos in the lands, and it was an old myth that made people terrified of night creatures. Gotham has always, it seems, been rather eventful in the night.”

            Jason looked to the image again. “So… They hunt each other?”

            “In a sense. Ynanh wanted to hide and ambush Quses. Anything that happened when you weren’t looking was because of him. He hid the evil deeds of man. Quses, though also hiding in the darkness, was more open but was more… showboat about it? Quses was not afraid to attack at any moment, always vigilant. Always ready.”

            “So, what does this have to do with anything?” Jason asked putting the book down on the consul as Bruce took a seat at the computer, pulling up the tracking data.

            Bruce clicked a few buttons and sat back as the computer loaded up the program, it would need an upgrade soon. While they waited Bruce turned back to Jason, “I think that Quses and Ynanh are real.” Jason shook his head.

            “They’re made-up creatures.”

            “We have seen demons firsthand, Jason. I don’t think an owl and bat demon is out of the question.”

            Jason stared at the ground and bit the inside of his cheek. “Do you think that demon that came here… Was Quses?”

            “I think she has a much more complex name, one we can’t comprehend, but for our sake… No. I think we were visited by Ynanh. Though, I’m not entirely sure. He seemed more amused by me than malevolent.”

            “I just find it ironic that you have shadow abilities when that is clearly the trait of the other demon, he hates…”

            “I think it was supposed to be ironic.” The computer pinged, interrupting their conversation. Bruce clicked a few other buttons in rapid succession, but still… Bruce scowled. “It’s not pulling up.” Jason glanced sideways at his father and noticed how with every failed ping, the vein in his neck was protruding worse. Looking around the cave told Jason that the shadows were also worried.

            Scared.  

            For Dick.

            Bruce was up suddenly, making for the changing room. “B?” The man didn’t answer. “You can’t go out! It’s 8 AM!” Jason followed after him, trying to keep up with the man’s long strides. It wasn’t too difficult, but the pace was brutal. “B, wait!”

            Jason caught movement in the shadows, the darkness was sharp and moving as if its framed was being shifted. The fluid motion is gone. “Y-you don’t even have a plan!” Bruce turned on his heel and Jason felt a small bit of fear knock into him when he saw his father’s eyes. Pure white, horns were growing from his forehead and his teeth were sharp. Jason could see the crawling darkness starting to creep up the sides of his neck. “B-Bruce?”

            A low growl escaped from the older man’s throat, causing Jason to instinctually take a step back. When Jason didn’t move forward Bruce turned back around and started for the changing room again. Thinking he could just keep his distance Jason started to step forward again but was stopped. He glanced down and noticed the shadows held his feet in place.

            Before he could get himself out, Bruce was walking by in the suit. The darkness enveloped his cape and the shadows called back to him as he walked over to the batmobile. Jason was still trapped where he was, but when he looked at his father again, the demon looked back.

            I pray to God that this doesn’t make Bruce do anything he’d regret.

            Dick knew that this had something to do with… His family. Heritage. Birthright. Something or other. But he didn’t quite understand why they put this liquid in him. “It is the blood of our father. Your true ancestor.” It was murky and yellow. Smelled as foul as the sulfur that he remembered from his high school chemistry class.

            His blood boiled. Dick felt like he had a fever coursing through him and he didn’t quite know how long it had been going on. “He will be strong, a good Talon.” Dick was generally confused.

            Talon.

            Birds had talons.

            Dick had looked around some earlier and a giant Owl statue was staring at him at one point before they had secluded him to this room. A room with the blood. The room where he was sure he was going to die.

            He’d fought. Tried to get away. But they… Something is keeping him here. Something…

            Unholy.

            Jason was going to flip. He was always going on about Dick needing to be careful with what he was inviting into his life. Now Dick just wished he would make it to tomorrow so he could go to mass with Jason. He probably needs to see a priest, cause the owl thing… It’s staring at him from the ceiling.

            “Hey, Alfred?” Tim walked into the kitchen, Damian not far behind. “Have you seen B? I thought he was going to be in the library today, but he isn’t there.”

            Alfred took the scones out of the oven and lightly buttered the tops before sprinkling salt. They were filled with ham and cheese, delicious. Tim could feel the saliva pooling in his mouth. “I believe I heard him and Master Jason speaking earlier. Perhaps they retreated to the study.”

            Damian crossed his arms, sighing as if to hide his now growling stomach. Though it didn’t work as Alfred smiled and took two from a different cooling rack to offer to the two boys. “Eat. Then let me make up a plate for the two in the study. I’m sure that they are hungry for some brunch.” Tim and Damian grinned at one another, taking the offered fruit salad that Alfred also portioned for them before digging in.

            “What are you two up to today?” Alfred asked, taking four scones and placing them on a platter. He covered them and started on some small salads to have as a side.

            Tim swallowed quickly, coughing up slightly, “Mm, Damian wanted to go to the library in Gotham. I thought Jason would be busy, so I was going to ask B if he’d take us instead. But if Jason is here, he’ll likely want to come with.”

            Alfred smirked and glanced at the former Al Ghul who was staring at his sandwich with a light blush covering his face. “I see. Well, perhaps we can all go. I believe I have some books I would like to look at to possibly add to our own collection.” Tim grinned and stuffed more of his scone into his mouth.

            “Will father still wish to go if Todd comes along?” Damian’s voice was quiet, but Alfred still heard the boy.

            “I believe that Master Bruce will be very happy to accompany the three of you. I’m sure if we inform Master Dick, he would like to join as well. Regardless if he had planned to sleep the day away.” Both boys perked up at the mention of the eldest. Ah, that boyish wonder when it comes to older siblings…

            Alfred picked up the platter, now loaded with scones and salads, and he started for the door. The other two boys scampered after him, both still eating after him, but they were careful to chew slowly. Once they reached the study, Alfred noted that it was empty. “Ah, the basement then.” He walked to the clock and grinned when Tim raced forward to open the door for him.

            Alfred walked over to the elevator portion of the opening, rather than the stairs. He had lost too many meals to the stairs being slick. The boys joined him shortly after. “Think they’re training?”

            “Father is a honed warrior; I have no doubts that they are keeping themselves sharp for the coming battles.” Tim didn’t want to mention the strange silence that had come over Gotham lately. How there hadn’t been much fighting at all in the past couple of months. Mom and Dad always kept track of the crime stats when they were home from trips…

            “Master Bruce likely was helping Master Jason with something Bat related. I’m sure that we will see them both looking over some table with some sort of gadget.” When the elevator door opened, they didn’t see anyone. Alfred walked to a side table and set the food down. He glanced around and frowned. “How odd.”

            Tim wandered further in, along with Damian, and looked around. The shadows were shifting, randomly and rapidly. Tim felt a small chill go down his spine.

*Hide*

Tim shook his head and instead looked around. The training floor hadn’t been used, but he did note that the batmobile wasn’t in its parking spot. “B left?”

            Damian took in a sharp breath. “Timothy.” Alfred and Tim both wandered over to the computer, and this time it was Alfred who gasped.

            “Master Dick’s tracker is offline.”

            “Is Dick, okay?”

            “Please allow me to get to the computer young sir.” Alfred gently guided Damian out of the way and started to run an algorithm. While the older gentlemen did his analysis Tim started to hear the slight shouts of someone near the changing rooms.

            Rushing over, Damian alongside him, Tim gasped at seeing Jason struggling to get his feet out of the pool of shadows. “Jason!” The older boy’s head snapped up and he called out.

            “Tim! Get Alfred! B’s gone rogue!” Damian called for Titus, who roared out from the darkness and lit up the shadows near Jason’s feet to release him.

            Jason cussed up a storm as he raced into the changing room. Tim started to follow him, but Titus stood in his way. “Hold on Timothy,” Damian called out, running up to him. “We don’t know what Todd meant by that.”

            “B is in trouble. I’m his partner, I have to go help him!” Jason was running out a moment later, helmet in his hand.

            “Stay here, Tim. Bruce was not in his right mind when he took off.” Both of the boys followed the older boy into the main area of the cave, where Alfred seemed to be distraught when he was looking at the screen. “Alfie. Can you pull up Batman’s information? Can you give me an area? He’s going to hurt someone, or himself if he acts like this in broad daylight.”

            Alfred didn’t seem to hear him. Jason scowled and stalked over to the computer. “Alfie!” the British man startled, actually startled, and looked at Jason.

            “Master Jason.”

            “Can you pull up Batman’s tracker?”

            “Certainly, sir… But I think I know who has Master Dick.” Jason squinted, but when Alfred pointed to the screen, Jason felt his blood run cold. His tracker, for the last couple of hours before it blinked off, was a stenciled image.

An image of an owl.                      

Chapter Text

            Jason whipped around the corner of 4^th street and revved his engine harder. Thunder boomed around him as the coming rain forecast was starting to trickle onto his jacket. There had been a couple of cops who had tried to stop him earlier, but when he put out a couple of well-placed bullets, they let him be. He had the CV radio in his helmet, which let him know that Jim was telling them to stand down and not go after the Bat if he showed up. Jason thanked God for the small mercy that was not having to worry about the police shooting his father if the worst came to worst.

            The last location that Dick’s tracker showed was an entrance to the sewer system. Though Jason wasn’t sure why they would lead the Bats straight to their lair, he was certain that they were running headfirst into a trap. When he got to the entrance, he noted the Batmobile also was there, the engine was cold, but from what Jason could tell, Bruce hadn’t walked in but rather phased.

            Slowly, Jason started his descent into the sewer, “I’m going in, let me know if his tracker moves.”

            “Will do, Hood.” Tim acknowledged over the comms. “What do we need to do?”

            “Stay. Home. B would never forgive me or Dickhead if anything happened to you or his demon spawn while he was indisposed.” He could hear Damian’s snort on the other side of the comms, but neither boy said anything to dispute.

            The further he went down, the colder it got. There was a thin film of ice on the edges of the walls, shimmering in the little light that came from the grates above. Jason wondered what made it so cold… Furthermore, the sewage was not moving in this area. It didn’t smell as he thought it would. “What is going on…?” Jason knelt and poked the viscous liquid, it nearly jiggled like gelatin. He shook his hand before wiping the content off his boots. It was rude to do to his shoes, but it was better than his pants in his opinion.

            “His tracker is further ahead,” Jason affirmed the update and walked on. The ice got thicker but the sewage still wasn’t frozen the further he wandered. He could slightly see the shifting in the darkness, how it seemed to shake with fury. Jason hovered his hand over the darkness and nearly gasped as it lashed out. He pulled his flashlight from his pocket and illuminated the attacking shadows, and they hissed and writhed before spreading away from the light.

            “The shadows are pissed,” Jason stated, putting the flashlight down and watching them reoccupy the area that he had lit. If he didn’t know better, he would think the shadows were scared, whimpering. “Where is your master?”

            “His tracker is erratic.” Jason snapped forward again, he mimicked petting the air toward the shadows.

            “I know you're pissed, and I’m gonna find him, okay?” The shadows fluidly followed his hand and he took off a moment later. The tunnel was getting smaller on the sides, but when he ran headfirst into the brightest room ever, Jason hissed. It took a moment for the helmet to adjust the brightness from dark mode to light, and when he could see again, he saw…

            A maze.

            “The frick kind of people follow this owl?” Jason muttered, putting his flashlight away and now taking out his gun. “Tim… You think you could pull up a path for me?”

            “Path?”

            “It’s a maze, Timmers. The erratic movement must have been him going through this thing.” Tim was silent for a while, likely going back to where their tracking info must have matched.    

            “He started left but came back and stuck right.”  Jason listened to the instruction and followed. Tim messed up a couple of times, leading Jason to have to double back a few times before he finally came to a set of doors. “He is somewhere to your left.”  Jason glanced at the door.

            “This isn’t the ‘my left or your left’ like earlier is it?”

            “I promise… It’s your left.” Jason smirked and walked over to the door. It was broken off its hinges, the room was strangely bright just like the maze. “Be careful Jason, we don’t wan-“ Tim was cut off abruptly.

            “Tim?” Silence.

            “TIM.” Still more silence. Then static erupted causing Jason to turn off his comm. F*** me. Jason turned to run back out, but… He heard the inhuman growl that came from the room, and it made Jason pause.

            If he could get B back… They could take this on together. So, Jason nudged open the door to see, what seemed to be, a medical room. There were several empty I.V. bags and lots of cloth rags that were covered in crimson. In the middle of the now upturned medical bed, was Bruce, claws extended, cape fulling surrounding him. “B?”

            The batman whirled around, screeching. “B, it’s me.” Jason took a couple of steps forward. “We need to go home… Tim, he’s in trouble.” The growling only got louder as Jason got closer. This doesn’t make any sense. He’s never acted this way even in his demon form.

            “You’re thinking much too much about it.” Jason jumped nearly two feet when he heard the voice. Looking up he saw the dangling figure of a bat, a giant bat.

            “You’re not Man-bat I assume.” The creature’s answering grin was enough.

            “Such a simple creature that one is. Though flattering,” The bat extended his wings and beat them a couple of times. “he would make a wonderful collection piece if he could ever stop to think through his barbaric schemes.”            

            “Let me guess, you’re Quses?”

            “Y@YR(!E)GHWF SFATHAITW#)@$&#.”  Jason held his ears as the demon spoke and gasped when it was finished. “I suppose you can call me by the name the humans gave to me. Your human mind, it seems, cannot handle my original tongue.” Jason gasped as the bat unfurled and started to descend the wall. “though I don’t suppose you knew about that.” The grin was back, this time, Jason could see the scars and blood that littered the face of the creature.

            “Your friend did a number on your face, huh?” The grin disappeared for a moment and the resounding screech hurt Jason’s ears. Note, stop insulting the giant bat. Jason glanced at Bruce who hadn’t moved since he walked in. It was rather ominous.

            “The one you call, Ynanh is no friend. He took what was rightfully mine and made a bastardization of him!” Bat flung a wing to point to Bruce, who was tense. Way too tense in Jason’s opinion. “so… I took what was his and released it. Let him think that he has any sort of upper hand in our game!” Jason scowled.

            “Rightfully Ynanh’s? What does that mean?” The bat laughed, cruelly.

            “The circus boy, from the family that escaped. But they come back, they always do to him. I got to the boy before he could, I changed him…” Jason tensed this time. Dick. “The boy is mine. He may hold the owl's name, but the power he holds comes from me. And he will destroy the carefully crafted plan he had for my own creation.”

            “You did this to B?” Jason thought through all the grief that Bruce had been through. All the pain.

            “The boy was meant to be my perfect creation! My tool to create chaos. To show my loyalty to mother. But the bastard decided that he would interfere. He brought ‘love’ and hope back to my creation. With those, my creation would not breed the desire for chaos. He was trying to create grief for his own creation. To set up the stage for his to kill my original. But I reversed it!” Quses laughed again, “His perfect toy… His perfect creation will destroy his careful plan and mine. My precious Bat will destroy the creature that is the destroyer of all he holds dear.”

            In that instant, Batman’s head snapped to look at Jason. “How..?”

            “My wonderful creature heard my call when he descended to this place. Ynanh is a fool. He thought I wouldn’t be able to control him. He thought he was too weak, but no…” Quses brought his wing down, and in a strange way caressed the edges of where Bruce's mask usually gave way to flesh. “I released his creation. He will destroy the hope that he holds and soon… I will return to mother.”

            Taking a jerky step, Jason felt a chill run up his spine. “But I know my creation… He will not just need to see the damage wrought on by his first… You will have to return where I first sent you!” Jason gasped, rolling to the side when Bruce’s fist came down onto the hardwood floor, splintering it into the air. “Kill him!”

            He didn’t need to hear the order twice; Jason took off and didn’t bother with the maze this time. Tim and Damian were in trouble. Quses wants to kill them… But he can’t. He’d know that though, right? Jason grappled to the top of the maze and jumped between the areas. He could hear the low hissing and garbled growls of Bruce below him. He knew his father’s demon form was fast, faster than his own body.

            I should call for Superman. I should call for any of them really. Jason dropped to the ground at the opening of the sewer and ran. The shadows were agitated, spiking from the walls now and again but not hitting him. You know me! He wanted to scream at them, but his lungs were working double time to keep him going. The shadows ahead were forming, molding the shape of his father, whose eyes were starting to shine through with Hellfire, and Jason pulled out his flashlight to stop the formation.

            His father screeched and practically fell into a puddle where he’d been forming. “Sorry.” He muttered as he ran by. Jason kept the light trained on the walls around him, trying to create as much illumination as he could until he could get out.

            When he did finally jump out, he glanced back and to his horror, the bat, Quses, was there. Staring.         

            Jason didn’t stick around. He shot off like a… Well, a bat out of hell. He found his bike and nearly cussed enough to warrant Alfred to scrub his mouth out with soap three times. The rain he’d predicted earlier was pelting down. Soaking him in seconds and he wiped the rain out of his helmet cameras a couple of times.

            Around him, the shadows were shifting, writhing. They, if Jason could hear anything but wind, were groaning as the hunt went on. Jason was aware. He knew that the shadows could catch him at any moment, but he remembered that Bruce mentioned that Quses lived for the show.

            Jason cried out when his bike was suddenly not under him anymore. He was thrown, back first, into a pile of trash in an alleyway. The young man groaned, pushed himself up, and noticed his slowly sinking bike going to the darkness. “Keep running boy.”

            Should have known Quses wouldn’t just let B take this task alone. So, Jason rolled to his feet and grappled to the rooftops. He’d have to run to the manor after he lost the bat.

            Tim pressed the comm line again.

Nothing.

I don’t like this… Tim looked over to Alfred, who was readying his suit, along with one for Damian. “Just in case Master Timothy.” Titus was at Tim’s feet and Damian was worriedly petting Alfred the cat’s head. “I lost comms,” Tim stated bluntly, not sure of a more sensitive way of going about it.

It was how Bruce sounded when he didn’t know how to deal with Dick’s emotional outbursts after Jason… died.

“The sewers tend to be a tricky spot to get a signal through. I’m certain that once Master Jason has gotten to a secure location, he’ll radio in again.” Tim nodded but he still felt a trickle of worry. There was a charge of energy that Tim sensed that hadn’t been there moments ago. Tim glanced down at Titus whose head perked up. “Perhaps, to stave off our nerves, I could warm those sandwiches, or we could get you both upstairs and out of all this mess.”

Damian snorted and let the hell cat jump from his lap. “I do not think Pennyworth, that we will rest much easier upstairs.” Tim had to agree with Dami at this point. They were all strung up, after finding Jason held tight by the shadows and then listening to the strange hum on the comms before he found the maze with the shadows… Tim didn’t think they would be letting any of the older members of the family out of sight for a while.

“Very well then, perhaps we can-“Alfred gasped suddenly. It was a terrible noise, as Tim had only heard the type of sound like that once, and it had come from his mother.

“ALFRED?” Damian took a stance in front of Tim and Titus took up growling at Tim’s back. There were skittering noises echoing around them, but the cave always had bats around. They were background noise, but when Tim saw them dropping like rocks from the cave ceiling, he had a feeling that this wasn’t them… “Damian… The bats…” Damian nodded.

“Yes, Timothy… It seems we may have a guest.” Both boys glanced at Alfred, who was gasping, still gasping for breath, and holding a knife that was lodged in his stomach. The butler had gotten himself under the table, he was trying to apply pressure, but Tim didn’t think that he would be able to keep himself okay for a long time if their assailant decided to play the long game.

Another knife flew through the air, this time towards Damian, who pulled his katana from his back and batted the knife from the air. Tim needed to get his bow staff. He wished he had access to his gear, but that was over by Alfred, who was much too far away. Another knife, this time at Titus who dodged enough and barked fire at where the knife had come from.

Tim felt his lip quiver. This was… Tim felt so trapped.

Hide.

He wanted to. Tim wished that he could hide all three of them right now. He wanted Bruce. He wanted Dick. He wanted Jason to be here so badly. They would protect them. They would… Tim felt a tear trail down his cheek. He just wanted his dad…

“Timothy duck!” Tim gasped slightly and put his head down as the next knife flew just over his head. “Eyes up! He’s trying to distract us.” Tim wasn’t too sure about that, but he would trust his brother’s judgment. Another knife, another angle. Tim started to slightly move them towards Alfred, who somehow had gotten the knife out and was wrapping himself tightly.

When they reached the table Tim grappled for his bow staff and extended it with enough time to hit the next knife out of the way. In the shadows, Tim thought he saw the figure of an owl, but he ignored it. Now was not the time to let his imagination run away from him. “Show yourself!” Damian commanded, gasping slightly when Titus was suddenly struck and collapsed in a pile of ash. Alfred the cat was still around but she was under the console table, watching around the room for the knife thrower.

It seemed, with Titus out of the game, for now, the stranger felt more confident. Tim and Damian both gapped at the figure who stepped forward.       

Chapter Text

Shit

Shit, shit, SHIT!

Jason jumped the gap between buildings, heaving heavy breaths as he looked behind at the growing mass of darkness, He dropped into an alley, taking sharp turns trying to get to Park Row, a territory that he knew far better than the bat. Somewhere he might stand a chance.

            He threw himself into the turn as he could hear the loud screeching behind him. He was crashing into the bins. Its inhuman hiss followed after him as Jason grabbed onto a railing to get back onto the roof. His grapples were cut, both of them. The buildings were closer together in this area, he didn’t need them. “Jaaaaaaassssssssoooooooooonnnnnnnnnnn.” He cursed under his breath as he pushed his legs harder.

            The rain from earlier that night had left puddles on the rooftops, they splashed harshly up his legs as he ran through them. Jason had no doubts that the water was rather useless in hiding his scent from the creature. It made his limbs feel bitter old and only made his shaking worse.

            Creaks and groans from the fire escape made Jason push on further. He would be there in two minutes. He could do this! Jason screamed when a piece from the fire escape hit him squarely on the back and caused him to fall over the edge of the building and right into the conveniently open dumpster. Jason could feel the trash and other items digging into the soft areas of his back but felt how bent out of shape he really was from the fall.

            Now that he wasn’t moving, he could feel the coming soreness in his limbs. The lactic acid was sure to come for his knees after how hard he’d been landing on them without being able to grapple. Jason bit his tongue to keep the worst of his groans from the open air. I need to call Alfred… Or Tim… Someone… He rolled around in the trash until he could crawl his way out.

            The hissing and writhing that had been his constant companion for the last half hour were breathing slowly above him. Jason was under no assumption that his little fall was any sort of accident. The shadows likely were the culprit of his own folly. “Will you keep running?”

            Quses’ voice was all around him, echoing and reverberating from the darkness. Jason took a step backward but felt his back twinge more. His knees hurt. His ankles. Everything. Jason felt tears starting to form on the edges of his vision. I don’t wanna die. Jason gasped slightly, wanting to throw his helmet away and cry for his father, to just see his eyes again and know that he was going to make it all stop.

            But his father was his current nightmare.    

            He had to save his father. Then save his brothers. Then… Then he could break down. Yeah… That’s a good way to look at it… Jason took a deep breath and started off again. If I actually had a plan.

            Dick’s fingers were covered by sharp mechanisms that resembled those of Owl’s claws. His eyes were a sickly yellow color, devoid of any consciousness. His outfit was his Nightwing uniform but ripped and patched in places that Tim wasn’t sure the meaning behind. But the most disconcerting thing was the blood. All of the blood was present on the claws.

            Tim glanced at Damian, who was shaking. Titus took fifteen minutes to regenerate enough to be summoned again. He knew that because Damian told him. Alfred the Cat was still hiding, he was not much for offensive fighting. Tim gripped his staff harder. He needed to get Damian’s Katana from the storage unit, but Dick was in the way.

            “Kill them, my creature.” They both gasped and dodged out of the way of Dick’s oncoming claws. Tim was missed by a hair’s breadth, and he tumbled enough that it got him closer to the storage unit. Damian flipped back to the weapons bay, and he grabbed some of what was available. Mostly bearings, and smoke pellets. Dick was closer to Damian, and so took off after the younger boy. Alfred the Cat streaked across to get closer to Damian, and before Tim’s eyes transformed into a giant Hellcat beast that roared enough to cause Tim to cover his ears.

            The voice, the one from before, screeched at a higher decibel, bringing Tim to his knees in agony. “Damian!” He cried out, watching as the Hellcat was stunned long enough for Dick to throw his knives to kill Alfred the Cat and send her back to Hell. Damian cried out in pain when Alfred the Cat was gone, and Tim wanted to cry too. What is happening? Dick raised his knife-like claws and started his pursuit of Damian, who took off after throwing a smoke pellet. Tim didn’t think the boy had long and he took off for the storage closet.

            It wasn’t large, it was mostly items that Bruce would only use part of the time or was specialized for certain villains. The Katana was in a case not too far from the door. Tim felt a small amount of relief that the Katana was so near an exit. But it was when he finally grabbed it that the door slammed shut and he heard the lock click. “Damian?” Tim called out but skittering and a rather low hoot was Tim’s answer. “Damian now is not the time to-”

            “The Drake boy.” Tim’s spine went rigid. It was like ice was poured down his shirt. “I had not anticipated you.” The boy looked around, searching, scanning. He tried to do everything that Bruce taught him to do when there was someone hiding in the shadows. When he did land on the figure, Tim wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking at.

            An owl. Snowy and bright white. But the wings were frenzied and out of place feathers were everywhere. There were hooks in the wings that made Tim think more like a bat than an owl. The Owl's face was covered and littered with injuries. Its claws were caked in blood and… Something else. Tim didn’t know what to say it was. “Your parents broke the dam. I thought you had perished with them. I could never stand the Drakes… They never held up to the beating heart of this city… Not like the Wayne’s.”

            Tim jumped, hugging the katana close to his chest. “What are you?”

            The owl’s beak opened, and a nasty grin overtook the owl's face. “I am Ynanh.”

            His lungs were burning. Jason jumped to another roof, nearly whining in pain when he heard the scrape of claws against the concrete. Come on… Come on! Jason jumped again, and nearly cried out when he felt his ankle twinge when he nearly missed the lip of the roof. “AH!” The young man couldn’t stop, but he cried out more and more to release some of the building pain and pressure that was starting to form.

            “JASSSSSSSSSSSSSSON!” The hissing and calls were getting worse. The vigilante skidded three times before finally making a right turn to go toward GCPD. After running for so long, Jason figured he’d go towards the largest and brightest light that Gotham had to offer.

            The Batsignal.

            With comms down, Jason couldn’t call Gordon to have the blasted thing on when he arrived, but he figured that he could race to the top, even without a grapple. It had to work, it had to, cause otherwise, Jason had nothing to get the chase to end. He was a sitting duck and a plaything in a demon’s game.

            I’ve already been a pawn in this game already, who am I kidding?

            Jason threw his arms harder, and he finally saw GCPD in sight. Dusk was falling and streetlights were starting to turn on. Jason tried to stay in the glare of the lights as he ran, but he would be thrown out of them when a car was coming and honking for him to move. Jason could only figure it was the demon’s doing to keep the game going. 

            At the police force entrance, Jason gasped for air and took to the fire exit. He didn’t have time to explain to the cops, he-

            The fire exit collapsed on his first step, and Jason fell to his knees in gratuitous amounts of pain from the sudden jolt to his aching body. NO! Jason got up, he had to, and ran for the front door. Throwing open the precinct Jason didn’t stop. He gasped, and ran for the stairs, he would be a sitting duck in the elevator.

            When some of the cops tried to block his way, Jason made a motion for them to move, “Get out the way!” He tried to yell, but his throat was shot, too dry to really make much of a sound. When a large shadow threw them away, Jason was tempted to abandon his plan. Stopping in his tracks, Jason looked back to see the batman taking up the doorway, but seeing his father isn’t what made him feel like a deer in headlights.

            Batman looked nothing like himself. The horns were curled now, and the whites of his eyes were not present. His gloves were claws, and his cape was fully wings. He didn’t look man-like at all anymore, but a fully-fledged bat creature.

            Jason felt his lip tremble, but he ripped his eyes away to run for the stairs again. The following screams and yells were drowned out when Jason finally started to ascend the stairs, and the door slammed shut. The precinct was 13 floors before there was a secret stairway that you had to get to, to get to the roof. Jason knew the way from the many times that Jim had to watch him as a young boy when he’d been either kidnapped, or Bruce had been nabbed. The roof was the only place that Jason had really felt like he could breathe. Jim would sit with him for hours until Bruce finally could get back from whatever business trip he had been on. (Alfred having been away to see family in England.)

            Now, Jason could feel his legs shaking when he finally opened the rooftop door. Against the dreary Gotham sky stood a silhouette of one Jim Gordon, who was just about to flick on the Batsignal himself. “Hood?” He backed away from the signal and started to walk to the young man. “What happened to you?”

            Jason gasped for air and staggered towards the signal. He tried to form some sort of response, but Jason just kept moving forward. L-l-light… He raised his hand to the signals switch. Though in his state, keeping a good grip was difficult. Jim eventually came over to help him to get the light on. As the hum of electricity started to flow, Jim turned to Jason again. “What is going on?”

            Jason swallowed dry spit and opened his mouth to reply when next to them the signal suddenly crumpled, and glass rained around them. Shocked, both of them whipped around. In the signal’s dying light was a screaming and frothing Batman, who was sizzling from the exposure to the Batsignal’s bright white light. “The H*LL?!” Jason grabbed Jim’s coat, trying to indicate that they should run, and get away, but he fell in his own hold. Gordon had to hold him up so that he didn’t fully collapse.

            “The chase is over boy. Your death comes again.” Quses’ voice was rattling, and the Bat started his slow gait towards Jason as he stepped out of the signal. Jim seemed frozen, watching as the intimidating figure of his closest friend came to possibly kill the boy that he held in his arms.

            “Batman,” Jim stuttered out, the figure didn’t stop, “Batman, stop! This isn’t what you do! Are you this easily controlled?!” The bat didn’t waver in step. Jim gripped onto Hood harder and started to stagger them back towards the roof door. Jim wasn’t sure what to do. Hood seemed exhausted and didn’t seem to be able to speak. He could hardly hold himself up. So… Jim did something that no self-respecting Gothamite would ever do.

“SUPERMAN HELP!”     

“I don’t understand.”

“I suppose you would not.” Ynanh stepped out of the shadows, Tim noticing now the dark plumage that seemed to be the underside of the owl’s wings. “This was not meant to concern you.” He was getting that. Tim didn’t think he was really supposed to be here at all. But something wanted him here, right?

Tim felt a small taste of bile on his tongue as he tried to will away with the smallest amount of spit he had. “M-My brother… Are you why he’s like this?”

            The owl laughed cruelly, “Brother? What do you know about siblings, orphan? You are no gray son.” Tim scowled. Well, neither was Jason or Damian… But they were still Wayne’s,  all of them. “Humans… Humans know nothing of blood and family loyalty. You galivant around as if someone can ever take the place of the ones whom you shared a womb with.” Tim wasn’t sure if he wanted to really know or understand the bitter words of the owl that he was talking with. He needed to get the sword to Damian. He needed to at least give the other a chance.

            Tim took a shaky step back. Ynanh watched the movement but did not move. “Am I… allowed to leave?”

            “You may do as you wish…” The owl turned its head upside down to continue looking at him. “But what you hold, will only delay the inevitable.” Tim didn’t really care; a chance was a chance in his mind. Besides, it wasn’t like Damian could die. So, Tim took off and pulled at the door handle, which was- locked- of course, it was locked.

            Tim whirled around, just to see the owl in his space, puffed up around him and its head right above his own. He tilted his head back to stare into the gleaming red eyes and scowled. “You said I could leave?”

            “I said you may do as you wish.”

            “That usually means I have the freedom to do as I please.” The owl kept his place, but there was the slightest noise of the lock coming away from the door and Tim grabbed the handle. It turned easily, but he didn’t dare take his eye off the owl. Its eyes followed him through the doorway, and he saw it meld with the darkness as he was now in the main area of the cave once more.

            Now, away from the creature, Tim could hear the gasping breaths of Alfred, and the slight Arabian curses that Damian exclaimed from time to time as he was being chased. Tim ran over to Alfred, checking over the older gentleman. “Alfred, do you know anything about what is going on?”

            Alfred took a sharp breath as he readjusted to better look at Tim. “There were rumors, especially when Master Bruce’s parents were around of a society. The court of owls, but Master Bruce disbanded them many years ago. I did not think that there had been any left to turn Master Dick into…” Damian’s sharp cry of pain got both of them to jump and look over at where the younger was now holding his side. A knife had nicked him in the side, deep enough that Tim could see the growing stain of red. “You must help Master Damian. I will notify the Justice League of our situation. There is another area that I may crawl to, to send a distress signal.”

            Tim blinked, “We have that?”

            “You can thank your father’s paranoia.”       

It was interesting to be seeing nothing than to have an alien appear in a blink of an eye. Though the Bat seemed determined, when Superman grabbed a hold of him the resulting hiss was so erratic that Jim felt its force as if it were directed at him. “What happened to you, Batman?” Superman murmured in a low tone, though not letting go of the other leaguer.

“Quses.” Was a hissed, whispered word that came from Hood. Both of the older men looked to the vigilante, but Jim had no clue what the kid meant by that at all.

“What did Hood say?” Superman asked though Jim was sure the other had heard him perfectly fine.

“Quses, but I don’t know what that means.” Jim readjusted Hood in his hold again, but the boy seemed to be struggling just to keep his head up. If there was something that Jim noticed, it was that Hood didn’t look away from the Bat once. The whites of his helmet were trained on the Bat and the hand that was keeping him at bay. “I’ll look into it, but for now I’ll get Hood to my office to rest up. I’m sure some rest and water will allow him to explain-”

Superman clenched his fist into nothing as the Bat phased into the darkness of the shadows of the roof. Though he had seen Batman do this very ability before, he had never thought that one day he would have to fight against it. As quickly as he thought of it Superman grabbed the other two and brought them into the air with him.

The resulting hiss was answer enough. “I will need to call in the league. We will need to conta-” Superman’s league comm was starting to go off. A distress signal, from the BATCAVE! “Robin…” Just mentioning the younger boy seemed to stir Hood in his arms.

His gasping and labored breathing increased as he tried to get out of the supers hold. “R-rob-ACK-Robin…” His voice was weak, and Superman usually had to use some sort of force to hold Hood back, but Hood was not strong enough to fight Clark’s hold right now.

“We’ll get to Robin. I promise. The rest of the League has been notified. We’ll get to him.” Superman hoped that Nightwing was in Bludhaven, safe from the rest of this. The super-powered individual looked down and glared at the rising shadowy mass that is his best friend. The figure hissed and spat, much like a cat would, and stalked the edges of the shadows, just at the edge of the rooftop light. What an unfortunate night to be a new moon. “Hood,” The boy turned his helmet, listening, “I’m going to be taking you and the commissioner to one of the watchtower entrances. You’ll be safe there. We have containment for Batman there as well. How likely is he to follow us? Nod once for yes and twice for no.”

Hood seemed to think for a moment, Superman didn’t take his eyes off the figure. Slowly, Hood nodded once and Superman started to drift away, making sure the creature, his friend, was following them. We’ll save you B… I promise.

Chapter Text

The manor grounds were immaculate, to the point that Alfred had won several awards from garden contests that he hadn’t been aware he’d been entered in. When Dick Grayson came along, he helped Alfred from time to time when Bruce was too busy. But when Bruce could help, he also would get his hands in the dirt with his son to help out the man who’d become a father figure to him.

            It was more common in the summer months for the three of them to be out and about in the garden. Weeding and fertilizing, sowing, and tilling. It was something that Dick grew to love doing with Bruce, especially when he could sing to the flowers like his mother used to do when they would have their grow box on their cart.

            That year, a plot of flowers rotted. Despite everything Dick tried, and how determined Alfred had been, all of the flowers in the grow box had drooped until they were nothing more than brown wilting daffodils. Dick had been upset for about a week straight until Alfred and Bruce could take all the flowers out and see if they could determine what happened to them. “Sometimes, flowers just won’t grow my boy,” Alfred told Bruce once the last flower was shown to also have root rot. “And sometimes, it’s the things we can’t see that are the problem.”

            They’d told Dick the flowers had been unwell and that they would try to make the plot healthy again. Dick was still crying, but he wanted the next flowers to grow well. He didn’t want to see them wilt like that again until the winter came.

            Jason stared out the large bay window that overlooked Earth. Bruce was… In the air? Superman had gotten them all to the zeta tube, he and Jim had come through, but Superman was still MIA. Jason wanted to go back after him, but he collapsed after attempting to pull up the zeta information for the cave.

            J’onn had taken him to medical, and Jason had stuck around there for all of three minutes before thoughts of Tim and Damian came to mind. Dick was there too, but Jason knew that Dick was likely compromised. He put his head against the cool glass and watched his breath fog up the window. This was such a s***show.

            Jim was talking with some of the other League members, trying to determine what he could do for the city from space, but Jason thought it was a little too late. The Bat was out of control, they couldn’t contain him, the zeta might be enough to kill him… Jason wasn’t sure. Some of the League were discussing getting the lightbox to Gotham to contain him. Jason just wanted to know who was saving his brothers. His dad would want them safe first and foremost.

            “How are ya, kid?” Jim’s voice carried over from the door. Jason leaned away from the window, checked to make sure his mask was in place and turned to look at the commissioner. The man was the most casual he’d seen him. His tie was gone, his button-down was rolled up at the sleeves, and for some reason, his shoes were gone…

            “Where are ya shoes?” Jason rasped.

            “Took them to get all the mud off. I was around the sewer system earlier tonight and apparently smells don’t leave quickly from this place.” Jason nodded. Bruce had mentioned that he puts on a new suit when he comes up to the watchtower if he’s been fighting Croc.

            Jason paused a moment, “you went to the sewer?”

            “Got a report that there were some vigilante sightings, thought I might see if I could get you back up. That’s when one of the officers saw the Bat taking off into Gotham, I presume, after you.” Jim was next to him now. “With some of your voice back I thought you might be able to explain what happened. The Bat likes you; I’ve seen him interact with you.”

            Jason wanted to walk away and do the disappearing act so that he doesn’t have to explain that his dad is being possessed by a demon, who tricked his parents into making him immortal. “It’s a little complicated.”

            “Don’t know if you noticed, kid, but we got time.” So, Jason tried to explain what he understood of it all.

            “Batman is immortal. He has been since he was a kid. We all didn’t find out til last year when he had “died” on a League mission from a poisoned bullet. Popped back up and since then he’d been learning to control an ability that had cropped up that was to control the shadows around him. They were violent and they protected him. Slowly started to protect the rest of us as well.”

            “So, Joker was actually, right?”

            “More or less. Joker didn’t really know what he was seeing, and we didn’t want to correct the record. Made everyone really scared of Batman and by extension us. Then that whole quiet spell happened, and the shadows were getting worse.”

            “Blood lust?” Jim asked.

            “Not quite. They were used to a lot of action, and they weren’t getting any. B did what he could but the quiet just kept going. Then the Drakes died, and everything went to s***. Nightwing went missing and when Batman and I looked up his tracker he was in the sewers. Batman kept me back in the cave while he went after Nightwing. But when he went radio silent I left and found him in a… labyrinth. He was being manipulated, then controlled by this demon called Quses, a bat demon. Apparently, Quses has had a lifelong feud with another demon called Ynanh, an owl demon.”

            Jim blinked. “An owl… You mean the court of Owls?”

            “Agent A mentioned something like that.”

            “The Court of Owls was one of the biggest takedowns of Batman’s early career. Well before he had all of you Robin’s running around. Didn’t think they worshipped anything though.”

            Jason shook his head, “Wouldn’t have worshiped him. Apparently, he liked to be hidden and manipulated from the shadows.”

            “Well, that fits them to a T. Secret society and all that. Doesn’t explain the Bat demon thing though.” Jason shrugged.         

            “The thing is rather blatant in its wants apparently. It’s a demon of Chaos.”

            “Manipulate people to?”

            “If I had to guess, it’s lived in Arkham since it’s been built. Might explain why everyone in there is so… The way they are.” Jim nodded along.

            “This might explain a lot. Have they been around the whole time?”

            “Cult following for a long time before the pilgrims showed up. Then they had a time of worshipping til the Puritan practices sent them all underground. So, the demonology book I was reading said.” Jason coughed a moment, taking a sip of the water he had nearby. “Guess they stuck around though, 'cause they're here obviously.”

            This time Jim didn’t ask anything for a while. Jason knew it was a lot to take in, and if Jason remembered correctly, Jim felt he was close friends with the Bat, so this was likely a little bit of feeling left out. They looked out over Earth, no doubt thinking along the same lines. What was happening in Gotham?

            “Do you think Superman was caught by that demon bat? Quist?”

            “Quses.” Jason corrected, “And there’s a possibility. I don’t know the things end game. It just wants chaos, and my guess is it’s been using Joker for the last couple of years to get to that goal, but Batman is its main plan in the end.” Jason pushed away from the glass to take a seat on a nearby couch. “It went on and on about Batman being his ‘greatest’ but he was stolen by Ynanh.”

            “Well, that isn’t confusing at all. Quses created Batman?”

            “Created is a loose term. He put the chess pieces on the board, someone just messed with his side.” Jim took a seat next to him. They fell quiet again. The Earth turned slowly beneath them. “If Superman is taken out… I don’t know who will be enough to take out Batman.”

            “The League is full of remarkable people. I’m sure someone can help.”

            “How many of them will try to help him… and not get him killed permanently?” Jim fell silent at that. Neither one wanted to think of the possibility.          

Tim didn’t want to say he was an idiot. The IQ test his parents put in front of him when he was young would have said child prodigy. If they had a say in anything in his life, he would have graduated from high school at a much, much younger age. But Tim wasn’t dumb, he knew his people skills were below par. The social worker, his therapist, the school counselor, some of the teachers, and even Alfred (said politely) told him that he was odd personality-wise. Tim knew that he struggled to just “get” people.

            It likely had to do with the neglect.

            Bruce said so once that he went through something similar when he was younger, but it wasn’t as bad because he had Alfred and a couple of cousins he could interact with. Trauma was a pretty heavy factor in both Bruce and Tim’s lives that made them so awkward. It’s likely that the awkwardness is why he felt so close to his foster father. Bruce got him, and understood when Tim didn’t understand people, why they got upset with certain truths came to light, or when Tim was unimpressed with things that others tended to titter around and talk about excitedly. “It’s something that you and I just find… Uninteresting.” Tim would wholeheartedly agree. He didn’t care whose parents had bought them a phone, or a new gaming system. Cool as it is, Tim was more excited when Bruce would take him places, or he would get to hang out with any of his siblings.

            Tim could always buy the things he needed.

            But his family time is always what he wanted.

            This, however, was not Tim’s idea of a good family outing. Dick could have stood to leave the lethal daggers at home. Tim zipped around a corner. The knife just barely missing his ear as he threw back a Batarang. It was knocked away by another knife in Dick’s hand. Damian was below, his leg possibly broken and Tim was surely cursing in twelve separate languages. He had heard Titus running around again, but just as he’d heard the hound, Dick surely had as well. He was throwing fast enough that any time Titus so much as popped his head out there was a knife in the hound. This was Titus’ fifth time coming back and Tim hadn’t heard or seen Alfred the Hellcat.

            It was Tim’s guess that Damian was hesitating to bring back Alfred until he was absolutely sure the cat was needed. Tim gasped when he felt a nick on his calf as he found the pole to the next area. He slid down quickly, running to Damian who was slicing away another knife from Dick. “We have to get you to the safe area. The league will send someone to handle Dick.”

            “Handle. You mean slay. Our brother is not immortal. They’ll kill him.” Tim gritted his teeth and pulled Damian up. The younger boy hissed and didn’t apply pressure to his leg. Likely broken. Tim looked back at the pole, there were clanging noises coming from the pole, but Tim didn’t see Dick making his way down.

            “Dick, our brother, wouldn’t want to wake up from whatever this is and know he killed us.” Tim put Damian’s arm around his neck and started off to where Alfred was waiting to get them to the saferoom. “Have some optimism.”

            Damian scoffed, but he didn’t push his idea out for the others to hear. Neither one wanted to think about how this was likely the last memory they would have of the eldest Wayne child. Tim didn’t want to think about how Bruce would come back to know he’d live forever without…

            Tim cried out when a knife lodged into his shoulder. “Timothy!” Damian cried out as well, a knife also embedding itself in-between his shoulder blade. Though the gat was slow, Tim knew that Dick thought they were down for the count. “Alfred.” The Hellcat sprang forward, and Dick had to grapple with the feline while the two of them trudged forward on their knees to get to the opening.

            The cat's yowl was enough to notice for them to get going faster. Dick rose from the ashes that Alfred left behind and readied a knife. Tim pushed Damian just a little bit harder and the boy got in. Tim cried out when the knife hit him and felt himself being dragged through the entryway.

            When Dick got older, he fought more with Bruce, made up with Bruce, and started to just “get” it. Dick would take his younger siblings out to the garden. They weren’t as into gardening as he had been, but the flowers were something they all seemed to enjoy. Tim liked to take pictures of the bugs that came around, mostly the bees and birds. Jason liked to help clip them so that he and Alfred could make the arrangements in the manor.

            Dick still loved to sing to the flowers.

            The flowers were dying suddenly again. Dick tried to comfort Tim when he noticed the Lavender wilting out of nowhere. Jason had cursed up a storm when his begonias were just… dying. Alfred pulled them this time to check the roots. “Root rot. We must have over-watered accidentally.” Alfred patted each boy's head when the news came to them. “Nothing to worry. We will try to help them heal.” They cut away the rot, that they could, tossed the flowers that couldn’t be saved.

            “It’s happened before.” Bruce would tell them. “Sometimes they suffer from things we can’t see until we dig them up and look.” Tim was crying when most of his flowers had to go. “Next time, we’ll know what to do. We’ll learn from this Tim.” Dick could remember when Bruce said that. How he wished that he’d known that flowers could rot like that. From down below…

            Where no one could see.

            Clark floated outside of the cave. He’d heard the screeching and labored breathing of the Bat when he’d disappeared into the darkness back at the zeta tube. He’d been about to open the zeta long enough for Batman to follow, but there was a screech that had Clark noticing that Batman was going away. Being called somewhere else. Clark followed and sent his location to the Watchtower.

            He didn’t get a response back, so he assumed something had happened to his receiver to keep him from getting in contact. He hoped that he could handle all of this without needing backup.

            The screeching picked up again and Clark started his weaving through the maze of the cave system that Batman had shown him only a few times when he’d been called to Gotham. The darkness was pulsing, surely from the Batman, but the screeching was loud. It was as if…

            When Clark got to the opening area he could see a man dressed similarly to an owl, growling and… Hooting? Clark didn’t know how to describe the sound that was coming out of the man’s mouth. But the Bat, that was just loud bat screeching that was normal for Gotham. He’d thought about intervening, but when Clark moved forward a shift to his right caught his eye. There were two giant creatures also facing off.

            A giant bat.

            A giant owl.

            Clark blinked and noticed their rough appearance. They seemed to be talking to one another, the owl was pointing to a wall. When the two humans, cause Clark would think of them as nothing else, started to circle one another, Clark decided that he was going to worry about locating Robin.

            Using his vision he looked through the walls of the cave and noticed one area where three bodies, a grown man and two young boys, were sequestered. Two of them seemed to be worriedly moving over the smallest body, and Clark decided that it was concerning enough that he located the zeta he knew Bruce kept in the cave. It was far away from the main area of the cave, but Clark thought he might be able to get those kids out. If only, so Hood might have some peace in knowing Robin was safe.

            “YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!” Clark’s attention went back to the two creatures. Batman seemed to bristle when the large bat yelled.  “HE WAS MINE! YOU STOLE HIM.”

            “YOU STOLE MINE FIRST.” The owl replied, no longer pointing to the safety holes opening, but glared harder at the Bat. “HE WOULD HAVE BEEN PERFECT IF YOU HADN’T STUCK YOUR NOSE WHERE IT DIDN’T BELONG.”

            Clark raised a brow at the two. Almost squabbling like children to one another. Clark took the time to slowly float around until he could get to a safety catch. When he entered the sight was a grizzly one. Alfred was patching a broken bone on one boy that Clark hadn’t met before. Tim was, not moving, with two knives sticking out of his small back. Oh no…

            Superman rushed over to Robin’s still form. Tim wasn’t breathing. Not moving a muscle. He glanced over at Alfred. The butler was precise, and likely just holding it together so that he and the other boy could get out alive still. Hood is going to be devastated.

            When they finally realized they were no longer alone, Alfred glanced up at him, and Clark could see the visible relaxation on the man’s shoulders. “Superman.” It was strange, to think that Gothamites didn’t usually seem too eager to see him there. They more or not distrusted him, much like Bruce did for a long time. But desperate times, and losing their best protector, likely made the man desperate for anyone at this point. “I cannot say how grateful I am for you arriving.”

            “I had to get Hood to safety,” Superman glanced down at the still boy, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” Clark felt the rise of something choking his throat, but he held back the feeling. “I’ll fly you both to the zeta. Then I will come back for Robin.”

            Alfred seemed, at that moment, to glance at the boy and release a long stream of air. “I suppose I should explain what has happened here.” Clark held up a hand.

            “Plenty of time for that later. For now, let’s get going.” Clark stepped forward and picked up the younger boy carefully. He seemed to stiffen, his face squished, and seemed disgusted. Alfred sighed and grabbed hold of Superman’s arm.   

            “Promise me you’ll leave us at the tube and come straight back for Master Tim.” Clark blinked and nodded. “Very good.” With that, Clark took off.     

            Dick wished he knew that it could be the same way with people.

            When Ringmaster Haly told him that he couldn’t stay with the circus after his parents fell. Dick had never felt so much betrayal in his life. No one in the circus seemed to stick up for his place to stay amongst them. But Dick understood later on, he knew why no one else would take him in.

            He was rotten.

            Dick was an acrobat without any other acrobats. He was the root that was cut off from the rest. He had to be purged for the rest of the flower to grow. The circus couldn’t keep him, he’d bring more rot.

            It was horrifying to think about, to know that he was the issue. The problem.

            “It wasn’t your fault, Chum.” Bruce had tried to confront this type of self-criticism before, but Dick didn’t think Bruce could see the big picture that was… Him. Dick felt like there was something missing within him like there was something else that was supposed to happen.

            A missed opportunity.

            He was cut away from it. It had been severed and while the feeling dimmed and squashed itself over the years when Dick looked up and saw the giant owl on the ceiling…

            It was like everything clicked into place.

            Jason and Jim sat patiently just outside of the Zeta room. Jason knew that the others would have to mask up to save their identities, but at this point, Jason was wanting to rub his eyes so bad that he might just tell Jim outright. A bright light and some muffled sounds later, Jim rose to his feet, indicating to Jason to stay down.

            He wasn’t going to complain. His everything hurt.

            When the door squeaked open Jason felt his heart race at only seeing Alfred and Damian standing there. Alfred was wearing, not his regular butler uniform, but a bomber jacket, button-up shirt, and… Jeans. Damian had to only put on a domino mask, and Jason was a little concerned with the leg that was dangling between him and Alfie. “Where’s Robin?”

            Alfie’s face went grim. “Superman has gone to retrieve him.”

Chapter Text

“Retrieve him?” Jason stalked forward; his tiredness forgotten. “My baby brother was too much extra weight for him, or did Robin convince him to just leave him there?!” It was dumb really, to think yelling was going to resolve the issue at hand, but Jason was just at his wits end with this night.  

Gah he just wanted his dad and brother back.  

Alfred allowed J’onn to take Damian from his arms and held them up in a placating manner to Jason. “I assure you, there was not much time for explaining. You are aware that Robin is similar to Batman, yes?” Jason nodded, “Well, I couldn’t explain that to Superman without a longer explanation. Robin will be alright, he’s in one of the bunker rooms on the lower level.”  

Jason relaxed slightly. The bunker rooms were impossible to break into unless you got in through a small access tunnel. Superman likely saw it with his X-ray vision. “He’ll be okay…”  

“The owl saw us go in.” Damian chimed in, wincing as he crutched back into the room. That statement alone shot Jason’s nerves back up to an eleven. “If they finished squabbling before Superman can return, then it is likely they will go after T-Robin again.”  

“We don’t know that.” Alfred tried to reassure Jason, but Damian shook his head.  

“We must send someone else. Or return ourselves. No one knows the cave as we do. Hood, did you read anything about a weakness towards these two demons?” Jason looked away and shook his head.  

“They’re old but younger demons. They likely don’t have many weaknesses other than holy symbols. Even then, they have to be certain holy symbols and placed a certain way. Agent A put a lot of those in the penthouse because Batman was getting more and more sensitive to them before this broke out.”  

Alfred frowned. “Perhaps we should have seen that as a sign. This demon is crafty, it will likely go to our home if it realizes that we have stopped warding the area.” Jason shrugged.  

“It’s likely. But if we can get to that cache, then we might be able to stop them before they do more harm to Robin.” Alfred nodded and started for the zeta again. This time he was stopped by Hal Jordan and Flash. Two heroes Jason hadn’t realized were there.  

“We can’t let you go back there. If what you’re saying is true, these demons want to kill all of you.” Jason gave some props to Jordan, to go against Alfred Pennyworth with a mission, the man was lucky to still have his balls. Alfred didn’t even flinch and walked around them.  

“Be that as it may gentlemen. My grandson is down there with two terrors and two demons who want nothing more than to rip him apart.” He turned back to them with a solemn expression. “I’ve lived a good, long life. If it is ended by me protecting the ones that I care about, then so be it.”  

Hal, this time, made a construct to stop Alfred’s way. “I get that, really, I do. All of us believe that sort of sentiment in some way shape or form. But Bats would kill all of us if anything happened to anyone in Gotham under our watch. Given that Spooky has told us about these kids, it leads me to believe that you’re something of a father to him… I’m not gonna be the one to tell Bats that his dad died because we just let him walk out of here without backup.”  

Alfred assessed Jordan from where he stood, his eyes flicking back to Jason now and again to see what the younger was thinking. If Jason got a say, he would mention how none of them were equipped to handle demons, let alone demons that had the man with every plan. That being said, Jason thought it was taking Superman a little too long to get back.  

“We’ve got a distress signal.” Arrow ran in from the comms room. Diana was typing away on the large computer, and Martian Manhunter floated over to help. “Located in Gotham. Same location, SOS. The only thing that got through before the signal went out was Superman down.”  

Jason was a little peeved that he could predict that.     

Tim was startled awake when the screeching reached high volume. He covered his ears to mitigate the damage, but the screeching and writhing noise was enough to make Tim nearly cry from the pain he felt as if his ear would start to bleed in a moment’s notice. “Robin?” Tim jerked around and stared into the astonished eyes of Superman, who seemed to have just flashed into the cave system.  

Glancing around, Tim noticed that both Damian and Alfred were missing. The blood on the floor was likely his own, and Tim was relieved that they were away from the chaos occurring in the cave. “Are they safe?” Tim croaked out, wincing when his own voice reached his sensitive ears.  

Superman, though still baffled, nodded. “They’re on the watchtower. I told them I would come back for your body…” Tim tilted his head and then his eyes widened. My body? Tim curled an arm behind himself and felt for the bandaging or an open wound of some sort from the knives that Dick had impaled in his back. He was met with a hole in his shirt but with soft skin and a lack of blood.  

“I have it too…” Tim murmured. Bringing his hand back forward and flexing his hands. When did I… Tim shook his head. There was time for that later. What can I do? Tim felt around himself, tried to see if he could also coax the shadows from the depths, or bring forward the beasts like Damian. But nothing happened.  

He tried to see if he could bring forward anything from himself, but nothing noticeably changed around him or on him. He would have to wait to see it seemed, or he was only allowed his immortality and nothing else. That would track for Tim. 

Being uninteresting.  

“We need to get you out of the cave. Batman and Nightwing are fighting one another, and the demons are going to remember that you’re in here if we do not hurry.” Tim blinked.  

“They know we were in here. Did they see you?” Tim’s question was answered when the door gave way suddenly to the shadows and Superman tried flying back away, but in the split second he tried to bring Tim along with him the green rock of Kryptonite emerged from the darkness which brought Superman down instantly.  

“YOU THINK… WE’LL LET YOU TAKE ANOTHER ONE?” Tim glanced over and saw the giant bat that is Quses. “YOU WILL DIE BOY. AND YOU WILL BE THE CATALYST TO THE END OF THESE RECHED CREATURES.” Tim shook from the malice in the demon’s voice.  

He glanced at the green rock and back to the demon. Maybe… Tim wished and prayed slightly that he could disappear. “You could try to, you know.”   

Tim jumped slightly but scrambled away as Batman suddenly came from the shadows and ran at him. Not wanting to stick around, Tim went to another safe area, one that was further away from the kryptonite, but there were fewer shadows. If Dick came in, Tim wasn’t sure what he could do. Dick was using distance to his advantage.  

His smaller hands were shaking, hoping that somehow one of the other Justice League members would appear. Help him.  

Save him.  

Save yourself.   

Tim squeaked, but not a sound was heard. So, Tim kept running, his lungs were on fire, but he collapsed next to the emergency beacon and lit it up. A small computer screen appeared, and Tim typed quickly to give the league something to work it, something that would let them know that he was screwed. A knife embedded itself into the screen as Tim hit send.  

He whirled around and gasped as another knife nearly missed him again. Tim scrambled to his feet, running for the next panel to take him to the lower area, the costume-making floor. The level wasn’t all that equipped with weapons, but it had boxes and little nooks everywhere. If Tim could get there, he could possibly hide long enough for his message to get through, for someone else to show up, and maybe… To come up with a plan.  

Jason took back every compliment he thought of Hal Jordan in the last five minutes. He was a complete idiot. “We throw holy water.” Brain bleach. An intellectual conversation with a brain surgeon to figure out what was wrong with the man. There had to be some hope for the man.  

“Batman is not a vampire.” Alfred’s patience was… a feat to behold.  

Damian looked impressed, from where Jason was sitting on the floor, of how Alfred hadn’t already slapped the man back to Earth with how hard his stare was. Not that Jordan could see it from where it was hidden behind the domino mask. “What’s the difference?”

His IQ had to be dropping just being this close to the man. “What do the others suggest?” Alfred turned his gaze away from the Lantern and to the other Leaguers in the room. Diana was not present, having been called away to another natural disaster that needed their attention. Which was a shame, Jason was sure that she would have a competent plan for them.

J’onn, for the most part, was calmly trying to think through ideas, which he would softly pitch, though he admittedly said he did not have much knowledge in the way of demons. Barry was shrugging, obviously unsure of what to do. Green Arrow said that he could maybe get a hold of Constantine, but the man was off with Zatanna, and they never knew when they were due back. This was a real crap show…

“Another signal.”

Jason jumped up and limped over to the screen. They had Jim sitting at the computer, the man was trying to talk his officers through the scenario, but for the most part he was just trying to get them to stand down and not engage should Batman show up suddenly. But he’d finished that up when Jordan was explaining that they could throw Batman in a hole and make sure to bury him facedown. He was sure Jim wanted to punch the man too.

“What does it say?” Jason asked, leaning on the chair with small gasps. He still wasn’t fully recovered.

“Hidden.” Jason blinked and stared at the message. Hidden. Jason was sure that was Timmy letting them know he was fine, but that didn’t tell Jason that the kid was not injured. “My guess, is Robin has control over the messages. Does the machine make a noise when it’s operated?”

“The buttons do for a specific one. Storage area four. He must have found something to hide in on that level.” Jason hobbled over to Alfred and grasped the older gentleman’s shoulder. “Take Gordon, get to the penthouse. Is there anything you can wear that might discourage them from touching you?”

“They need not touch me to harm me, sir. But I understand your reasoning. I do have a shotgun with salt rounds, however, so that might make them think twice.” Jim huffed a small bit of laughter.

“I’ll take one of those if you have another,” Alfred smirked slightly.

“Of course.”

Tim was cramped, but he didn’t dare make a sound more than he already had sending off the two messages that he had. Dick was in the room with him, knives ready and Tim was sure he was going to be aiming for his head. His back ached in phantom pain from where Dick had struck earlier.

Though his newfound immortality was something he was sure to freak out over later, Tim didn’t think he came back quite as fast as Bruce did. Or Damian. Tim bit the inside of his cheek and nearly squirreled back when Dick appeared then disappeared out of his line of sight. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t been found yet, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth like this.

Get.

Out.

Of.

Here.

Easier said than done. Tim was rather miffed with his inner monologue. He was trying to think of how to trap all four in here, how to keep them from rampaging through Gotham. How he might actually make it out of this thing alive and… Not being tortured for hours on end.

Superman.

Tim could get to him, maybe. But the man was likely pinned by the Kryptonite. Though if he isn’t already dead, that would be a miracle. Tim hoped that the demons were too focused on him to think more on Supes.

If he were being honest, Superman shouldn’t have hesitated in grabbing him. Though if he was shocked at Tim still being alive, well… He supposed that it made a little bit of sense. He was sure that Superman had a different approach to how he was going to handle everything when Tim was just a dead body.

Nothing big…

Tim’s immortal now…

He shook his head just slightly and put his head in his hands.

What a crap show.   

“You very well stink at listening to me.” Tim jumped, staring at the random cat that was now staring at him. He blinked.

The cat blinked.

Its eyes were like hellfire.

“Alfred?”

“Not quite. Though I am a distant relation. I created those little fur balls, and they have the audacity to snuff me out of important…never mind. You likely don’t care. You seem to be in a small pickle.” The cat grinned a Cheshire grin. “I don’t suppose you know where your father is?”

Tim turned his head all around himself and shrugged. “As I thought. He’s hidden himself well. Though, not that it will help him, I’ve hidden you.”

That didn’t make any sense. “Hidden me?”

“We needed to speak, without those two brats interfering. I warned your father that younger demons didn’t know the pleasure of a drawn-out plan. These two are so young, young as this city… They don’t know the first thing about patience.” The cat licked one of his paws, “I was hoping you might allow me to teach them a lesson.”

Tim blinked again. “I… I don’t even know you.”

“Nonsense. We had a good chat that night.” The cat was still grinning. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around, but your parents dropped the ball on the deal they made with me. But you held up your end at least.” Tim’s parents made a deal?

“They what?”

“I suppose they hadn’t told you about that. Ever wonder how they got so lucky with their digs? That isn’t voodoo you mess with lightly.” The demon cat shrugged, “Though, it was in their deal to come back occasionally and add to the deal. They brought back a lot of trinkets and such, but when I asked for you… They hesitated. Strange, wouldn’t you think?”

Tim shook slightly, “Why did you want me?”

“Why does any demon want a child’s soul? But they didn’t deliver. I made a deal with you instead and frankly… I think I got what I wanted. Now, I’m doing a favor for Miss Mother Moon. She’s rather tired of these two and she rather adores your father.” The demon rolled his eyes, though it ended up being his entire head which was rather disturbing to witness. “Help me end them, and we will have nothing more to do with one another.”

“You made a deal with me?”

“Yes, you said for one trait you would give up your parents. We shook on it.”

Tim shook his head but paused. A cigarette. A man asking weird questions that didn’t make any sense. “The guy from the fire escape.”

“SO he is smart.” The demon’s head righted itself. “What a relief. Now, about that favor.”

Jason’s breathing was labored, he wasn’t running that hard, but he needed to get to the cave. He needed to check on Tim. Damian was safe, on the Watchtower, in SPACE. Alfred and Jason were on the ground. Alfred with Jim, and Jason with Barry. Though Jason thought it would have been smarter to send Wonder Woman, she was now injured and thought that it would be best she stayed back.

As she had also suggested to Jason to do.

He didn’t want to talk about it.

Alfred had gotten them all to the Penthouse, he went through all of the religious symbols and other paraphilia, but he handed Jason one thing. “Get that near Master Batman. He’ll be incapacitated and unable to go into the shadows.” He rummaged around more and handed a tranquilizer dart to Barry. “As for Master Nightwing. He likely will still be affected by this.”

Now Jason was running through the cave system, stopping Barry now and again to shine a light on shadows that were wiggling around and shooting out at them as they drew closer. “I could run by those no problem.” Jason stared at him hard before the speedster backed off. Under no circumstances was Jason going to let the man just run ahead. He would get lost, supremely lost, and get caught in a glue trap. (It’s a thing. Bruce once caught Man-Bat in one once.) There were tunnels that led to cave-ins, there were tunnels that led to traps, and then there was the tunnel that led to the water lakes that Bruce would not let them swim in for good reason. He wouldn’t delve into it.

Regardless, Jason had a flashlight and some fire to keep the shadows at bay until they got to the cave's main area. It’s upon seeing the damage to the platform that Jason knows they might be a little too late. He can hear the chaos on the lower levels. Glancing over he could see excessive damage to the Batmobile, and the Batwing had lost a… Well, a wing. Jason was sure Bruce would be pissed once he got him back to his regular self. “Alright, I’ll take it from here. Give me what I need and I’ll-”

“You are not going after them alone. I’m going with you.”

“You’re injured. It would be irresponsible of me to let you go any further into this fight.” Flash looked at him with all the seriousness that he could muster. Jason shook his head. He had to do this, he had to save his brother and get his dad and eldest brother back. He had to kill those f-ing demons, even if it killed him.

“If you think I’m gonna just stay down here while you go down there,” Jason pointed to the area where the noises were coming from, “You’re more stupid than Lantern.” Flash looked a little affronted but sighed.

“Fine, but I’m going after the demons. You find supes and see if you can’t figure out if down meant dead or if it meant hit with a glowing green rock.” Jason nodded; he could work with that. They split off, Jason to the bunker, and Flash with some holy water and a pound of salt.

Alfred was likely upstairs already, putting salt in the doorway so that they might have a clean getaway if everything went alright, but Jason was feeling dread. Heavy dread. It was the same feeling he had when he came home and found his mom in the tub, a needle hanging loosely from a limp hand. Jason could just… feel it. He hobbled, it was the best phrase he had for it, to the bunker room and was shocked to see Superman there.

The man was passed out, completely. There was a hunk of Kryptonite lodged in his leg, and the man was not moving. Jason went back a small bit to grab a large lead-lined bag that Bruce kept around. Though he was sure it would hurt, Jason didn’t think the man would stay down long if they got him into the sunroom B hid in when the Shadows pissed him off.

Never take out an object that is stabbed into someone.  

Jason knew the rule, did he follow it twenty percent of the time? No, it was twenty-five and he was proud of that small increase he had in stab wound safety that earned him a gold star on Alfred’s injury smarts chart (It was changed two months ago to ‘Alfred’s STREET SMARTS chart’ Jason loved the stupid humor his brothers were into). He kept it next to B’s Dumb Ways to Die chart which was still hilarious to Jason every time he saw it.  

Now, back to business, Jason was sure taking out the rock would make the alien bleed. The rock was worse exposed in his opinion so he voted to listen to the seventy-five percent half of his brain that screamed, RIP IT OUT!

Fisting it with both hands Jason yanked with the limited strength he had and dropped the hunk of rock into the bag and sealed it. The stressed air left his body temporarily as he waited for Supes to just freaking breathe!

“Come Superman…” Jason muttered, lightly tapping the alien’s face to get some sort of reaction, but nothing. Does he need oxygen? Jason quite frankly had no clue, but they kept sunlamps around somewhere. He didn’t have the strength to carry Superman’s dead weight to the sunroom without a little assistance. I need Lantern or someone else here. If I was at full strength, I could do this but…. Jason paused and tensed. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement, dark movement.

He pulled the modified salt pistol from his leg holster. He held it up, level with the face of the Owl demon, Ynanh.

F this.         

Chapter Text

The Owl's eyes were unwavering as they stared down the barrel of Jason’s gun. He didn’t relinquish his stance, though the exhaustion was warranted if Jason so much as thought about outrunning another demon tonight. He’d do it, but if he did Jason was going to be sleeping for a week straight with no breaks. Alfred would have to feed him through a tube. Tim would have to read to him. Bruce would sob like the Victorian-aged man that he was. The demon brat likely wouldn’t care too much, and Dick would probably be down and out just like him.

The bird puffed up, wings extending as it kept. Staring.

Jason put down a hand onto Superman, hand steady. The owl lunged, beak poised to strike, and Jason shoved Superman away as he rolled over his shoulder and started running from the downed hero to draw it away. The bird's screams followed him. If Jason were honest, the Bat was scarier. The owl’s scream was like a gale, when the wind blew harshly between the buildings, The groan of buildings as they swayed, metal grating against the brick of Old Gotham.

There was a familiarity to the Owl that Jason was weary to make. The feeling of dread and loneliness permeated from the demon. Much like those nights that left Jason to find solace in just hugging himself tight, praying that he’d produce enough heat in the thick of his thighs to warm his hands for the night. Jason stopped just before the exit to the catacombs. He looked between the two paths and turned to hear the sound of feathers against the rocks, “I KNOW WHAT YOU THINK…” Jason backed away slightly.

“That’s not likely.”

Owl’s eyes squinted, “YOU… fear… ME…” The man shook his head.

“Try again.” Jason turned and ran, further into the cave, away from Tim, away from Superman, away from Flash. Jason thought maybe he could at least get the demon away. Let Flash handle the worst of the two and come handle this freak even if it meant he would be killed again. Maybe I’ll get lucky… again… Jason thought to himself, wheezing as he dropped to the next ledge.

His knees nearly gave out from the effort of his drop.

The owl’s claws made soft clicking noises as it followed Jason. It was in no hurry. Jason figured as much. So, as he ran, he felt his lungs ache further. From his belt, he pulled out a rosary. Alfred had handed it to him when they made a pit stop at the penthouse. “This should do nicely, Hood. You know how Holy Water is created, yes?”

Barry glanced at the object held out to the younger man. “Rosary… for Holy Water? I thought you told us he wasn’t a vampire?”

“We are facing demons. They will be affected by this, not because he is a vampire, but because it will ward off demons. And possibly kill them.”  

Jason, before he’d been adopted by Bruce, frequented the local church that was still in Crime Alley. It was the only place that Jason had known he could get a warm meal and blanket during his time of homelessness. Though they had tried now and again to get Jason a home he could be fostered through, Jason didn’t trust the people that they were suggesting. He wouldn’t have minded going with Brother Stevens, he was young and always brought a new book for Jason to read and keep. Brother Stevens was the reason that Jason considered becoming a priest for the Gotham parish.

He learned a lot from Brother Stevens, the man acted like an older brother to him. When he died, shortly after Jason was taken in by Bruce, he’d been devastated. He kept learning the one prayer that Brother Stevens had been teaching him at the time.

How to bless Holy Water.

The rosary, the one which Brother Stevens had given to him as a last right, was taken by Alfred to be given a sacred place on the mantel next to the portrait of Bruce’s parents. The man had taken it out of the manor to give to Jason for his new home. Jason hadn’t unpacked it yet.

He tripped slightly on his way and jumped forward upon hearing the release of a knife that wedged itself into the rock where his head previously was. Glancing up, Jason saw the form of Dick. His eyes were glowing yellow, his hands were extended claws that curled over the rocks edge. Knowing his time was coming close, Jason started his prayer. “Domine, Deus omnipotens, omnis vitae, corporis et creator...” Another knife, “hanc aquam benedicere to rogamus: u tea fide utamur, dimitte peccata nostra,”

Jason jumped the last ridge down and came to the water’s edge. “et ab omni morbo et potestate mali nos libera. Domine, in tua misericordia, da nobis aquam vivam, semper salientem ut fontem salutis; corpore et anima nos ab omni periculo libera, et nos ad tuam praesentiam in cordis puritate concede.” He dropped a bead, and started into another.

He could hear Ynanh approach him from the back, Dick was across from him. Knife at the ready. “You are… DISAPPOINTING. PARLOR TRICKS.” Ynanh knocked Jason just enough that the Rosary fell into the water in front of him. “THE BOY… was going to be the catalyst… BUT you… WILL BE sufficient.” Before Jason could blink Dick was on him, hands wrapped around Jason’s neck, steady, unbreakable.

Jason didn’t think that he would be able to fight him off. He was so tired. Jason grabbed hold of Dick’s wrists, and he tried, feebly, to get him to let go. “D-Dick… I-i-it’s me,” Jason looked into the eyes of his older brother, the cold and unblinking eyes of a man taken over by the demon. “Fight… It.” The assault didn’t end, and Jason, felt himself crying. He didn’t think his second death would come to him like this…

Jason wanted to go back. To the time before all of this even started. Bruce was happy enough, and Jason was finally getting to understand his new brother. Jason felt the last of his air be cut off. I can’t let the demon win… With feeble effort, Jason reached back behind himself.

His fingers touched the water and by cupping his hand Jason threw his arm forward quickly, drenching his arms, face, and jacket. His goal of getting a solid handful on Dick. The sizzling and smell of burning sulfur was something that Jason would never forget, but Dick yelled, screamed the same gale that the owl had before.

“YOU INCILOENT BOY!” Jason didn’t wait to hear the rest, he rolled into the pool and started to splash as hard as he could the water onto his older brother. The screams continued and soon enough stopped. Though the smell was terrible, Jason could see that Dick himself was fine. Turning to look for the demon he gasped as he was pulled suddenly into the air. “YOU WILL DIE IMPALED!” Jason knew what the bird meant, he grabbed a piece of his jacket, sucked away the liquid within, and spat it towards the feet that held him. The owl screeched, releasing him from one hold, but Jason went back to get more water.

This time Jason aimed higher and went for a wing. All of his time in public school with spitballs for once would come in handy as he hit his target. The owl screeched again and this time dropped from the air. They must not have flown far, because Ynanh had landed half into the blessed pool. It screamed and writhed. Jason took his chance and started to kick the bird down. Further into the water, further into the pool. It screamed. It cursed. But then, it bubbled out of existence.

The rosary floated where it once lay.

Jason collapsed back. He thunked his head back on the ground and rubbed his face. It was… Ynanh was… “Little wing?” Jason almost cried again.

Flash would like to be the first one to say that he didn’t think that Batman could get scarier. The shadows that were growing and amassing were terrifying in the sense that the tendrils smacked about randomly. Some popping out from the darkness to destroy rock faces on the wall, or to crush nearby equipment that Barry was certain that Bats would be… Rather miffed about later. He hoped there were cameras to prove it hadn’t been him.

Regardless, Flash stopped just short of where the shadows started. From the looks of it, Batman was searching for something. Flash had no doubts that it was for Robin, who he knew was hiding on this level… Or it was the next level down? Hood hadn’t had time to give instructions. In the making of his rampage, Flash popped in and out of the one light source to see if he could spot the younger boy.

As fast as he was going, Flash did a double take when he thought he saw the reflective eyes of a cat as he flew by a stack of three boxes. He went behind them and was met face-to-face with the exposed and seemingly worried face of Timothy Drake-Wayne. Barry felt his heart stutter in fear as the boy put a finger to his lips and pleaded with his eyes. A shadow whipped behind them and back. Barry felt the hair on the back of his neck jump.

“He can’t see me. But you have to go.” Tim murmured, starting to push on the hero's chest. “He’ll kill you if you are in the darkness.” As if summoned like a horror movie beast, a shadow emerged from the darkness and wrapped around the Flash’s ankle. He gave a loud cry and was swung through the air and right into a stalagmite.

He groaned after the impact but zipped up and ran off away from the dark tendral that was coming to him to finish the job. We are so lucky he has a no-kill rule. Barry thought to himself as he ran straight for the light and hunkered down in the beam as he watched Tim scurry away and towards the manor stairs. A slinky cat followed, though not without looking back at him, and seemed to say with his eyes. Stay.

Tim could almost feel the trepidation as he came up to the manor. Tim needed moonlight to do what his demon needed to defeat the bat demon. While it was nice to see Flash, and know that he could get out at a moment’s notice should the need arise, Tim is taking a chance that this demon truly does want to plan the long game.

I have lived much too long to let them ruin the fun I’ve been having.

Tim chose to ignore most of what this demon was saying for the most part. He felt the fear that came naturally to humans upon interacting with things that are far more powerful than they are. Tim slightly wanted to whack the demon with a cross, bury it in the ground, and frankly go back to the time before his father told them he was immortal. It all seemed so simple then… Robin was fun…

Tim slipped slightly on the last stair and held his breath. He listened to the darkness which echoed with a quiet hum but rattling anger. Tim had no doubts that the rising uncomfortable feeling he was getting was Quses. Arriving at the study Tim looked to Bruce's desk. On the desk were the scones from earlier that Alfred had brought back upstairs but it seems he had not put them in the kitchen. It was hard to believe but the scones looked rotten.

With careful steps, Tim walked on into the main area of the manor. Being careful of creaky floorboards he attempted to get up into The West Wing. There he was instructed to find a mirror but not just any. The demon was rather specific that it had to be one that Mrs. Wayne had used several years ago. If Tim knew correctly it was going to be in Bruce's bathroom.

Taking the steps quickly but carefully Tim made his way up into the quarters that he usually occupied with the rest of his family. It was odd to see the house with so little life. He and Damian had taken up to rambunctiously running through the Manor halls lately looking for other secrets that this house could provide.

Even with Tim's caution, you've heard a small squeak of the floorboards. Though he knew it hadn't come from him. Just up the way, Tim saw the soft reflection of the white hair that usually came from Alfred but this hair had a little bit of brown still attached to it. “Commissioner?” Jim Gordon turned and looked straight at him.

“Tim?” Jim responded also in a whisper.

“How are you here?” Tim glanced around hoping that the shadows were not listening to him up in the manor quite yet.

“Mr. Pennyworth let me in. We were on our way to come and find you. We had to replace the holy symbols.” Tim wondered if maybe that was why he hadn't seen any shift in the shadows yet.

This was not good news to Tim he needed the shadows to be able to hear him up here eventually. But perhaps this could work in his favor. “I need to get Quses upstairs so that way I can use something against him.”

“And what is that?”

“A mirror. Mrs. Wayne's silver-backed mirror.” From the darkness, Alfred appeared, though from where Tim was not entirely sure.

“That will be up in storage my boy. Master Bruce put most of their belongings up there when he moved into their bedroom.” Tim sighed, this may take too long for him to find especially if day breaks.

“Do you remember where exactly is?”

“I suppose that I do know where we might have put it. I believe that it was put into a special silver box she quite liked. The mirror was a gift to her on their 2nd anniversary.” Tim grinned.

“Then there's hope yet.”

Jason hobbled back into the main area of The Cave. Dick was slowly walking behind him and he made no try for conversation. Above them, they could hear some boxes being thrown around and some cries from the demon bat, they were sure. “Keep quiet and move with me,” Jason murmured.

Dick stayed close and followed carefully behind his brother. They made their way over to Superman. “I need a sunlamp.” Dick nodded but did not make any move to go and find it. Instead, it seemed he was keeping his eye up towards where the demon was making noise. There was a slight tremble in his hand.

“Where's Tim?” He asked quietly.

“I don't know but Flash is supposed to be finding him.” Dick shook his head and started to make his way towards the platform to get himself up there. Jason reached out and grabbed his brother's wrist. “Are you insane? That thing will kill you!” Jason remembered his voice and tried to go back to a quieter tone, “You don't have the energy to fight it right now.”

“I have to help Tim; he's hurt because of me.” Jason shook his head again.

“We go into the dark that thing will have us for sure.” The demon cried again and this time they could practically feel the nails against the chalkboard right next to them.

Before they knew it next to them was the Flash. He looked exhausted and seemed to have cuts running all along his legs and arms. “I'd keep a safe distance that thing is baiting for blood.”

A cry again but this time softer. “That sounded much quieter than it did just a second ago,” Jason murmured looking slowly toward Dick.

“That passageway to the Manor. I watched him walk up it not too long ago it might have caught his scent to go up there?” Jason shook his head.

“It'll be impossible for the demon to get up there they're warding it against him being able to move through that doorway.” Flash shrugged.

“It's possible he can at least get right up to the door he might just be in the passageway of those stairs.” It was possible to Jason that this was true. The passageway was long, and it took you quite a while to get right to the top. Perhaps this was the breakthrough that they needed.

Dick knocked his elbow in into Jason's side just slightly. “Maybe Flash can go and get it?” Jason nodded along and pointed to a supplies closet that wasn't too far away.

“There's a sun lamp in there we were hoping to maybe give Superman back some juice so that way he could help us later if we need him.” Flash nodded and took off. Figuring it would take at least a couple of minutes he went back over to where Superman was lying prone. It seemed that a little bit of time away from the kryptonite made it to where the man finally felt the need to start breathing. I guess he does need to breathe.

Tim hoped that he hadn't just sent Alfred to his doom by telling him to take the ward off of the door that led in through the study. He needed a little bit of time and his demon hadn't appeared again so long, he needed the instruction again. Tim glanced out the window to the hidden moon wondering if she ever regretted her children being born. Something he was sure that they could relate to together. Would you have regretted me if I was your son? I often wonder if my mother regretted having me.

 “You have a plan for that thing yet?” Jim was checking his ammo, locking it back into place when he was satisfied. Tim nodded.

“It needs to be the actual demon, not Batman,” Tim stated remembering that much of his instruction. It seems I'm not being hidden by the demon anymore. I hope I made the right choice by choosing this room. It was the music room, one that was not often used but it had a clear view of the moon its large windows that shone over the garden. It wasn't Bruce's favorite room, but oftentimes when he was reminiscing about his parents Bruce would come into this room and play a few keys on the piano that was always tuned every year even though it was not played often.

Keep your eyes up.

“How do I need to be when this thing comes in?”

Tim wasn’t entirely sure, but he glanced at the window again. The moon is still hidden. “I need moonlight, or a reflection of it and the bat demon together. If I can get that then-”

“Moonlight?” Jim’s voice clipped suddenly cutting Tim off.

“Yessss…?”

“It’s a new moon, there is no moonlight tonight.” Tim felt his heart sink into his stomach. What was my demon thinking?!  

Tim snapped his eyes to the doorway. From there he could see the white eyes of his father, the demon he had suddenly become. Slowly the figure started to move forward. Jim lifted his pistol but he didn't fire. Tim doesn't blame him for the demon making sure that Batman kept the frame that they were all familiar with, it's hard to shoot your friends.

His heart was racing a mile a minute. Batman stalked the outer edges of the room. Tim glanced just a moment at Jim, who kept his eyes on the stalking Bat. “We’ll have to get it to the watchtower,” Jim murmured, gunfire suddenly going off as Alfred shot from outside the room as the Batman lunged. The following shriek made Tim want to cover his ears.

“How can we do that?” He asked once the shrieking started to subside. Jim grabbed for Tim and ran for the window’s balcony. Tim gasped as he was thrown, and cried out when the Bat tackled Jim to the ground and his claws ripped into Jim’s side. Alfred shot again and this time the Bat turned and started going after the Butler.

Tim’s heart was thundering as he fell from the balcony onto the grass below. He gazed up at the music room and winced at every flash of gunfire he saw flaring. Watchtower… He needs to get them to the watchtower. On shaky arms, Tim raised himself again and looked around. He was near a secret entrance to the cave. He could get to the zeta but he needed to get the Bat’s attention again. Would the Zeta kill Bruce? Tim’s lip quivered.

“I don’t want him to die…” Tim gasped, looking back up and noticing that the gunfire was no longer nearby. They must have had him chasing them through the manor. Tim whipped at his face and walked for the entrance. He’d ready the zeta and… And call Quses’ name. That would be enough…

It should be.

Superman was starting to look better, in Dick’s opinion. The paleness he usually presented after being exposed to kryptonite was starting to fade, and in its place, the gentle sun-infused glow was radiating. Flash was tending to Jason, who still had deep wounds in his arms from where Ynanh had grabbed him. Dick looked away quickly, not being willing to see the dark marks starting to form on his brother's throat. I should go help, Tim. He thought, but his legs shook with all effort to move.

The idea of seeing the Bat demon again was petrifying. The creature held no remorse, and had wanted him to kill…

Dick blinked back the tears. He’d get them out. Dick could get Bruce back, just like Jason had for him. He’d throw the Bat demon into the holy water that Jason made. He’d save Tim. Determined, Dick started to push himself up onto his feet. “Woah, Dickie, sit down you’re gonna pass out.” His legs gave out, and Dick slammed his fist into the floor.

He felt the small crack that gave way in his hand, but he didn’t care. Useless! He wanted to yell, but fear held his screams at bay. Jason was helped over by Flash so that he could lean into his older brother’s side. “Look… I get it. But you and I are out of this fight. There isn’t anything else we can do.”

The eldest shook his head, “We can fight, Jay. We have to. Tim is fighting that thing and I don’t-”

“I KNOW!... I know. But what can we do except die at this point? I can’t lift my arms hardly at all, and your legs are just dead. Alfred’s upstairs. He’ll keep Tim safe.” Flash looked the floor, feeling completely useless at the display of the two brothers. Though Dick might have thought the hero would be racing away to go fight the demon, Dick knew why the man didn’t.

He'd seen Quses and it shook him to the core.

Superman likely was their only hope at this point. Ironic for a Gothamite to think that way, but they needed someone who was practically alien to go against something that humans naturally feared.

There was shuffling behind them suddenly, and Flash took up a stance to fight. Dick and Jason both also turned, though only Dick held up a batarang. When the figure came into sight, Dick nearly cried again. Tim’s downcast gaze was enough to tell Dick that things had not gone well upstairs.

Flash ran to the boy and brought him into the light quickly. Dick and Jason both snatch the boy away and hugged him close. “I thought you were dead meat,” Jason whispered.

“Practically… Jim threw me out the window.” The two older brothers snorted. Tim’s eyes were full of unshed tears as he curled from himself a silver mirror. “I… I need to get Quses reflected in this mirror with the moon…”

Jason furrowed his brow, “It’s a New Moon though.”

Tim nodded, “Yeah… Jim said that. I… He said we should get Quses to the watchtower. The moon can be seen from there?” Tim directed the question at Flash who nodded quickly.

“I can inform the team; they can be ready at a moment’s notice.” Tim’s lip quivered.

“Please… Make sure no one else can get hurt?” Dick held Tim closer.

Flash nodded and took off for the zeta to get a message to them quickly. “The zeta might kill Bruce if we try to send him through in his current state,” Jason murmured, remembering the League’s earlier debate. “Maybe we trick him into the lightroom here?”

Dick snapped his fingers. “That could work!”

A soft groan started up behind them. Superman started to sit up, blinking back the blurriness to see who was next to him. “Robin?” Tim nodded and crawled over to Superman to help him sit up a little better. “What is going on?” The super asked.

“Ynanh is dealt with, but Quses is hunting Alfred and Commissioner Gordon upstairs,” Jason informed him. “We’re thinking that we can trick B into the light room down here, but Tim will have to tempt Quses to go up to the watchtower.” Superman nodded.

“You have a plan, Robin?” Tim nodded and held up the mirror.

“I’m trapping Quses in here.”

Jason wasn’t too much of a fan of being a sitting duck, but Quses is arrogant, according to Tim who knew waaaaay too much about the two demons they had been fighting. “Just trust me, Jay.” He was inclined to question everything from Tim right now, but they had a plan and this was supposedly supposed to work.

So now, Jason and Dick were waiting on the other side of the light room, hoping that B would want to get them enough to go through the center and trap himself… Jason should probably say his last rights before the demon’s attack dog showed up. “Should I phone a priest or something?” Jason asked and Dick chuckled slightly.

“Not unless you think you’re gonna die again. Did you know B called a priest when you died last time?” Jason shook his head. “He was determined to make sure you went to Heaven in peace. Guess God had other plans.”

“As far as I know, it wasn’t the big man who sent me back.” Jason sighed, “Though I’ve got many questions when this is over.” Jason looked over at where Tim was supposed to be. By the zeta, ready to go at a moment's notice. Anytime now… Tim’s going to yell for the demon…

“QUSES!” The full amount of dread that came through Jason as the very air seemed to change. Ok, you handled one, you can handle one more. The shadows seemed to bubble and from them emerged Batman. The man still looked demonic, this time his form was more like his former self. Jason felt his arms tremble at the idea of running from him again but grabbed Dick’s wrist to calm the shaking.

“Call him, Dick.” Jason hoarsely whispered.

“B!” The demon’s servant turned on a dime to stare at them and his screech echoed through the cave. It started to stalk towards them. Okay… It’ll be ok. As B got closer, Jason felt the dread get worse and worse. Just the demon’s servant was about to enter, he turned and started for Tim suddenly. No!    

Jason nearly ripped away from Dick but was held back. “Tim!” Just as Batman was gaining on Tim, Superman slammed into the beast and flew him to the sunroom. Dick, not taking a moment's hesitation, slapped his hand on the switch and covered Jason’s ears as Batman started to cry out in pain.

“YOU THINK THE BOY WILL STILL LIVE?!” Quses came from the shadows himself this time and glared hard at Tim, who was shaking uncontrollably. Jason, adrenaline now rushing, ran to help his brother.

“Jason wait!” Dick called out.

Quses looked at Jason and grinned. Determined, Jason went for his gun and brought it up to fire, but was pulled out of the way as Quses went to slash at Jason. Flash held Jason down, who cried out when Tim caught the demon's attention again and finally got the demon through the zeta portal to the watchtower.

Tim had only been the watchtower on occasion. Bruce tended to not trust the vacuum of space much. “I can be reckless with my life, Tim. I will not be with yours.” Tim hoped that B wasn’t in too much pain in the sunroom, but he hoped the League was ready for an actual demon to come on board.

It was dark on the watchtower, not even the windows were open. That was fine, Tim just needed the window with a clear view. “J’onn says take a left and then you’ll find the window with the clearest view. The other Leaguers will be on standby.” Though he couldn’t see them, Tim hoped it was true.

When the zeta fired up again, this time permitting the demon, Tim shook just enough to make him nearly lose his grip on the mirror. CAREFUL! Guess the Demon wasn’t fully gone.

Tim glanced back and eventually decided to take off at a sprint. A demon chuckled and the sound of unfurling wings followed him. “You are rather amusing, boy,” Quses stated, his voice sounding as if it were right next to him. “So worried about the lives of others. Was he your friend? That officer of the law?” Tim blinked back tears.

“He tasted old. But young flesh is so much sweeter…” Tim turned suddenly and put his back to the wall. He clenched his teeth together and took the chance to glance out. Quses had stopped and was staring at where he was hiding. A game then. Tim started to slowly walk back, his steps mirrored. Keep him talking.

“Perhaps your friends here will taste as he did. Or perhaps my servant's youngling is better suited for a meal.” Tim nearly forgot that Damian was also here. Damnit. “You are determined I will give to you that, but all your luck will die with you.” Tim finally came to the room with the moon. The only thing was… How did he get Quses to have his back to it?

“A dead end… fitting.” Taking another step back, Tim felt his back hit the cold glass. Quses stopped at the room's opening, eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Come out of the light boy. Be devoured as you should have already been.” Tim looked around, hoping to find some way to trick the demon, or for his own to appear with some sort of plan.

Instead, Tim saw the reflective eyes of a cat. “Alfred?” The cat sprang forward, claws digging into the flash of Quses’ face. The demon roared and swung his head about. Alfie was determined to keep hold it seemed as she let her be swung to and fro on the demon’s head. From the other corner came Titus, who barked fire and lit the hallway behind the demon, causing him to hiss at the sudden light and come further into the room. He can be burned by hellfire, but he is safe in his mother’s light. Tim felt a small sense of relief again at his demon’s voice. Give the mirror to the dog.    

Tim glanced over and noticed Titus there, tail wagging. “Hey boy,” Tim handed over the mirror. “Let’s do this.” Tim stood tall and when his demon emerged himself, his cat form much more like that of a giant Panther, Tim could feel what he needed to do. Tim silenced his steps and got behind Quses.

When Alfie was eventually swung off, and Quses roared again Tim shoved the demon forward. When the demon looked back all that she saw was Tim’s demon staring back. “You… YOU OLD CREATEN!” Quses wailed, raising herself to seem bigger. “I should have KNOWN it was YOUR DOING!”

“So loud, Quses. Lower your voice.” Tim’s demon stalked forward, and to Tim’s shock, Quses started to back away. “Your mother wishes your return, &^*$&^(#&$#.” Tim put his hands over his ears, but what followed next nearly made Tim pass out entirely. Titus held up the mirror, getting Quses in the image reflected along with the moon.

His demon spoke in his ancient tongue and Quses started to writhe and cry. But the wind suddenly blew, but Tim saw the trendles of something come from the mirror and wrap around the bat demon.

Tim couldn’t understand what it was saying as it was pulled towards its doom.   

Dick hugged Damian hard when he saw him, squeezing the kid tight as if he was going to lose him all over again. Damian hissed, literally, and struggled in the hold. “Release me!” He cried, kicking the other with his cast-covered foot.

“Ow, OW! Okay, not like I feel awful for throwing knives or anything.” Dick let him go, but Damian didn’t stay on the floor for long. Jason hobbled over and to the shock of Dick hugged the kid tight too. Though exhausted, Jason lifted the kid and murmured something unintelligible into the kid’s hair. Tim walked up next to Dick, a small limp in his leg and he smiled tiredly.

“I didn’t know you were allowed to do that with Damian.”

“You aren’t,” Dick pouted, “Jason is the favorite brother.” Damian squawked this time, but he didn’t kick Jason. The older boy let him go and nearly collapsed. Hal caught the older teen and held him up.

His eyes found Dicks, “He, okay?”

“Exhausted. Full chase through Gotham and had to rip out kryptonite and a small fight in one of the cave ponds. He needs a good nap.” In the stilled silence, Jason started with soft snores.

They all slightly jumped at the noise, but they relaxed when Jason kept sleeping. “Take him to med bay and we can get him fluids as well. I’d do a butterfly with how dehydrated he is, he’ll freak when he wakes up with, we use a regular.” Hal nodded and started to maneuver Jason toward the med bay.  

The three brothers watched him leave and sighed each in turn. “He’ll be sleeping for a week, no doubt about it,” Dick muttered, feeling his wave of tiredness fall over him. Though Ynanh was dead, he still felt a buzz underneath his skin. It was making him shake in the need to do something, go somewhere secluded. Hide.

“Is B coming soon?” Tim asked, looking back towards the Zeta with slight hope.

Dick smiled at his brother and ruffled his hair, “Yeah… Yeah, he just had to get some security things back up.” Dick didn’t want to mention how devastated Bruce was also. Jim was in bad shape, as was Alfred. He as Superman was getting stretchers and getting them ready for the Watchtowers medbay as well.

Tim leaned hard against Dick as the rest of the League was finally starting to walk around, trying to make sure they were prepped for the people coming through. J’onn was already in the medbay waiting. “Tim…” The zeta came to life and Dick winced as both Alfred and Jim were run through. Bruce let the stretchers go quickly, and other staff took off with both of them.

The younger boy cried harshly and turned his face into Dick’s shoulder. The eldest hadn’t a clue of how to tell Tim it was going to be alright, but he felt a wave of reassurance as Bruce ran to them and pulled them into his arms. Damian hadn’t wandered far and came back over to them and also got caught in the hug. “I’m not letting any of you out of my sight for at least ten years,” Bruce murmured, holding them tighter.

“I think Jason is going to have an issue with that.” Dick joked, hugging his father back just as hard. “He’s in medbay sleeping.”

“I would hope so.” Came Superman’s jovial but rather melancholy voice, “He ran himself into the ground trying to make sure all of you made it out alright.”

Bruce turned to the other founder and nodded. “Thank you, Clark. I-”

“Please stop, Bruce. You thanked me enough in the cave. Your boys are safe, and Alfred will pull through. You can rest yourself now.” Superman smiled at them all and turned to look at the rest of the league. They seemed frazzled and in Zatanna’s hands was the mirror that held the demon that started this mess. “Zatanna, I’m hoping you can keep her contained?”

“Something ancient sealed this. I’ll make sure no one else can ever access it.” She stated, throwing a cloth over the top as a cry seemed to come from its surface.

Nodding Superman turned back to Batman. “You can go to your quarters. We’ll debrief later.”

Bruce waited as J’onn checked over them again. Twelve hours of rest had done well for the man, but now it seemed his sleeplessness was up to its old tricks and Bruce hardly felt tired. He figured while his sons slept that he could make sure that his father figure was going to be alright.

“You can come in, they should awaken soon.” J’onn stepped to the side of the doorway as Bruce entered. The shadows licked at his heels and slowly wrapped around the room as if to keep away anyone who wished harm to the two men on the medical beds. Bruce looked over Jim, who had a part of his ear ripped off, and his left leg was in a full cast.

Alfred was the least harmed of them both, but burns had been on his hands when he was retrieved and were now covered with the burn cream and gauze. Bruce watched the two of them breathe for a while before he finally let the emotions land. He broke down in a heap on the floor, clutching onto Alfred’s bed as his lungs tried to collapse from the effort of breathing around the solid mass that had made its way into his throat.

He clutched his chest and felt the shadows there, but this time they were unconstricting. A comfort almost as if they applied pressure on him in areas as if giving a hug. I’m sorry I left you in the maze. He thought to himself, as when he’d gone to the old Court of Owl’s hiding place he had told them to guard the entrance in case it was a trap. The shadows did not wish to leave him, they pulled on him relentlessly. But he’d run away and now… Now his boys were hurt. His father was dying. One of his closest friends was nearly killed by his hand.

“My boy…” Bruce jumped and raised his head. Alfred stared at him with eyes shining with tears. “It’s alright, Master Bruce. I am here.” That barely made it better as Bruce threw himself into Alfred’s arms. The man patted his back and reassured him a thousand times that he was alright, but Bruce kept his ear to the man’s chest. Listening to his solid heartbeat.

“Can’t say I expected you, Bruce.” Jim huffed, trying to sit up. “As Batman that is. Quite frankly I’m a little lost in how you were able to pull it off.” Bruce let go of Alfred long enough to hit the button to help Jim sit up slightly.

“I had a lot of people willing to help me keep it secret,” Bruce murmured, staring at the wound in the man’s side that was now visible. “How are you both feeling?”

Alfred held fast to Bruce as he spoke, “No worse and no better. I do hope that Quses didn’t make too much of a mess of the music room. It was your mother's favorite.” Bruce thumped his head against the man's chest and took a deep breath.

“I don’t think that’s what you should be worrying over Alfred… This can’t happen again.” Alfred paused in his soft patting, “Maybe it would be best if I traveled again. Make sure I actually have this under control.”

Alfred grabbed hold of Bruce’s head and faced him towards his own newly reddened face, “You will do no such thing. Those boys would be devastated if you took off. They are going through their trials, and you will not be a father who abandons them to find out on their own.” Bruce flinched and turned his eyes downward.

“I’ve caused them enough pain, Alfred.”

“It was hardly your fault, Master Bruce. You were not in control of your actions.”

“What if it happens again?!” Bruce nearly shouted. Jim and Alfred both scowled.

“Then we do what we must to bring you back to yourself,” Alfred replied.

“Those boys would do anything for you, Bruce. Even exhausted and about to pass out, Jason was thinking through everything to try to get all of you safe.” Jim held out a scared hand to the Batman. “Just… Trust us. Would you? I’ve been working on getting the department back in top shape. You’ve been handling those people who seem determined to bring harm to the good people left in Gotham… Trust us to bring you back if you tilt over the edge again… Okay?” Bruce stared at the hand offered and looked back at Alfred.

If Bruce could understand it better when he looked into Alfred’s eyes in that moment he might have seen a shine. Something that would make him wonder how it was his father figure who kept the two of them alive. So when he stretched out his hand to Jim’s and that shine seemed to get brighter, Bruce felt as if everything would be okay if it happened again. “Okay.”   

*A Month later*

“I’m just shocked is all,” Jason stated, lifting the box further up so that he might not drop it going up the stairs. It took them some time but eventually everything started to go back to normal. Bruce was still immortal, from what they understood. Dick got some immortal demon blood transferred into himself and is also now immortal, and Tim was immortal. “A cat demon. It’s just crazy.”

“My parents make a deal with a bat demon and you’re shocked Tim would be tricked into one with a cat demon?” Jason shrugged at Bruce’s response.

Tim was a little ways ahead with a lamp. “He wasn’t a cat when I met him if that helps.”

They both shook their heads. “It, in fact, does not baby bird.” When it was all said and done on the watchtower, Tim had broken down and told them everything that had gone on. To learning he could silence his whole self at the last minute to push Quses into place, to make a deal with a demon to get immortality. “I guess I gave up my parents for the ability to stay with B forever… Though I don’t know if I’ll stay this age forever.”

“Tim. Did you ever find out the demon's name?” Bruce asked from around his stack of boxes. Tim shook his head, though only Jason really saw.

“He didn’t say. Just that he was trying to help out ‘Mother Moon’. He hasn’t shown up since though.” When they got to the apartment, Tim knocked for the three of them. Some scrambling and something dragged across the floor before it was swung open.

“Sorry about that.” Selina opened the door wider. “I thought I had it open enough for you to get in.”  Bruce put the boxes down out of the way and started for the stairs again. “Thank you again for the help, Bruce.” She stated, following him out to help grab more.

Both of the boys watched them go and chuckled. “Well…”

“I’m not commenting,” Tim claimed, putting his lamp down and jumping when a cat landed suddenly right next to his hand. The younger boy grinned and stoked the cat from head to tail. “You’re a pretty one, Selina must take great care of you.” He pulled on the collar to see the name. “Olrith. Huh, weird name.” The cat stuck by Tim when he started scratching again. It was all black, its coat shined.

“Yo, let’s get more stuff,” Jason called out, already heading for the door.

“But shouldn’t someone stick around?” Tim called out, but Jason was already gone. He sighed a moment but continued to pet the cat. “I’ll stay here. Not like anyone can hurt me right?” He grinned.

The cut purred away, but as it opened its eyes Tim nearly felt a prickle of fear race down his back.

Hellfire stared back.

Staying as calm as he could Tim asked, “Do I need to be worried for Selina?” The cat rolled its eyes and sat up. Not likely. She gives me the good shit. Tim laughed and scratched him one last time. “Let me know if that changes.” The cat, from what Tim could tell, flicked his tail in amusement.