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Well. This was…bad. And mostly awkward.
Jason chose to mostly focus on how embarrassing it was lose to a building and get stuck in a cramped space with the brother who probably liked him the least. Which was… warranted. Otherwise, Jason would freak out a little bit about being crushed by a building far more slowly than he was the first time, in a cramped space to boot.
Today really, really sucked.
If only Jason had not been so readily available to help. This wasn’t his area of town! It was a fluke that he was nearby, really. Not that Jason wanted to leave an entire city block on top of Gotham University subject to bombings, of course… Blowing up people was bad enough, but blowing up students? That was even worse.
Jason was once a kid who got blown up (among other things), so he was an authority on the matter: it sucked. A lot.
Tim coughed, reminding Jason that the air was thick with at least five different kinds of dust. “Red?” he asked hesitantly, feeling a bit foolish. He usually avoided anything that involved meaningful communication, especially with people he once acted psychotic towards like Tim, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care. “You in one piece?”
A brief silence followed, either because Tim didn’t want to answer, or because he had to check.
“...yeah,” he finally answered with a bit of a grunt. “Yeah, I’m fine. For now, at least.”
Jason barked out a quick laugh. What a true statement. “Here’s to hoping the ceiling is done falling, then. The building was clear, right?”
“As far as we know.” Jason could imagine Tim’s shrug here, despite the fact that it was too dark to see. “Except for us, that is.”
“Lucky us.”
He believed he avoided a concussion, but his helmet did take a hit with… whatever the hell that blast was, because Jason refused to believe it was a run-of-the-mill explosive. Most of his systems were offline or jittery, and Jason didn’t particularly want to take it off to blindly fix it in exchange for breathing in drywall. Hopefully Tim had his rebreather in reach and not broken. Jason did manage to knock his visuals back online with a few old-fashioned whacks to the appropriate panel. In Jason’s experience, handling his own equipment, a startlingly large amount of tech both broke for no reason and also fixed itself for no reason; it drove him insane, but sometimes it was useful.
With infrared vision working, Jason could finally see just how screwed up they were. And unfortunately, visuals didn’t do much to alleviate the claustrophobia; there wasn’t much room left uncrushed.
He watched as Tim extended his bo staff and used it to prop up a precarious piece of wall that hung above them. “You in one piece too?” Tim asked, turning around in their limited space to see for himself.
“Yup.” A bit ironic, really. The last time he was in an exploding building, the explosion killed him, so he never experienced the building part; now, Jason was largely unscathed from the blast itself, while all his problems came from the building.
“I can’t get a comm signal,” Tim revealed bitterly. “Do you have one?”
In any other scenario, Jason would have used this to tease him and strengthen the wall between them to keep Jason from wallowing in guilt or Tim from having to pretend to like him. He liked to think they were well past the ‘almost killing Tim in newly undead Jason’s fit of insanity and rage,’ but that didn’t mean things weren’t awkward, so Jason never tried to force the issue. The opposite, in fact. However, not only was Jason a little too rattled for that game… his comm also wasn’t working. Tim’s tech zero, and Jason’s tech also at zero: an even score.
“Nothing. I barely got my infrared working. Comms and my computer assist overlay are both down.”
Tim cursed under his breath, rather creatively. Sometimes Jason thought it was a shame he freaked Tim out, because otherwise, Tim would totally be his favorite.
“Well, a whole ass bomb going off wasn’t subtle, so I’m sure somebody will come. Until then we should really stay put. The place isn’t that stable.”
“Agreed, though I might be able to mess with the comm once the dust settles.”
“Seriously Hood, do not— Wait you agreed with me?”
Something about the genuine surprise in Tim’s voice threw Jason off guard. Did he still think Jason was unhinged? A cold, churning part of him seemed to think so, but the remnants of the Pit’s influence did not have a powerful enough hold on him anymore to act on it, so Jason could be more reasonable. Perhaps he heckled Tim too much… Ugh, personal relationships were such a hassle, especially with a gaggle of siblings he only had because of Bruce’s adoption problem. Yet, for all that Jason wanted to not deal it with more than he had to, sometimes he seemed hyper-aware of the feelings between him and others, and it bothered him when they were out of whack.
Jason had been trying to get better with it. He even found some non-obtrusive opportunities for bonding and shit with the others outside of vigilantism. He had, however, neglected Tim. Maybe that wasn’t for the best after all.
“...I agree with you on several things,” Jason awkwardly replied. “More than I do with B, definitely.”
It was hard to tell with the infrared, but Jason could swear that he could feel the incredulity coming off of Tim in shocked waves. “I would have never guessed,” he deadpanned.
This had to be a nightmare scenario: trapped in a small enclave in a collapsed building and stumbling straight into a heart-to-heart with Tim. Maybe the explosion actually did knock him out. Or the funny behavior of the explosive actually meant it was laced with a neurotoxin, which was… incredibly likely, actually. They didn’t know the perp behind this terrorist attack yet, and so far it didn’t match a known MO.
“Fine, fine, you know what? My bad. Maybe we can talk about this later, over coffee or shit, instead of a hole with a questionable oxygen supply.”
“...fair enough,” Tim muttered amicably. Did he even agree to a meet-up with Jason without the company of anybody else? Huh.
Yeah there definitely had to have been some toxin in that bomb.
They faded into silence, growing tenser as time ticked out. The building occasionally creaked ominously. The comms still wouldn’t fucking work. Nothing changed but Jason would swear the space got smaller and smaller. The one silver lining was that Tim was breaking records for the amount of shit he kept in his multiple belts and pouches, including an oximeter, so he could see that they had a decent amount of breathable air. Not an infinite amount, but with rebreathers they certainly won’t run out immediately.
“Why were you here anyway?” Tim asked, breaking the mutual silence with a question that had probably been burning within him. “In the building, I mean. I didn’t need a spotter to disarm it.”
“As if you disarmed it,” Jason muttered sourly. The kick Jason got to the shin was deserved, though.
Truthfully, Jason didn’t quite know how to verbalize it. The bombs were weird. Extra volatile, he (correctly) guessed before the first one exploded. He hadn’t precisely thought through what he was going to do about the premonition, but he had known that Tim wouldn’t be handling a regular bomb. At least he tackled him away from the main blast, but really, some good his instinct was.
There was also the fact that, beyond not really hurting him as much as it could have via getting a back-full of explosion radius, there was something… familiar about how it felt. Something eerie.
Shit, maybe he remembered more about being blown up than he thought. In addition to the reiterated fact that his body was tougher than normal was also proving correct. The way he flashed green in the midst of the explosion was questionable, either his fucked up color trauma or a coincidence.
“Had a feeling the ETA was off,” he finally said, choosing not to elaborate. Gut feelings and instincts were the worst sort of evidence to give to detectives, but at the same time, nobody in their line of work made it long if they ignored those things. “That it was going to blow sooner.”
“Oh.” Tim didn’t say much in response, so Jason took it as acknowledgement that Jason really didn’t know. “Well, uh, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” It would help if Jason’s efforts worked, but that would be asking too much. Well, they probably did work, at least to stall their demise. Jason would take it, he supposed.
They lapsed back into silence. The comms still didn’t work. The wreckage groaned ominously around them, and Jason couldn’t be sure if that meant the building was about to collapse even more, or if someone was working to get them out. Out loud, they each remained optimistic; the others would surely notice the building toppled on them, and they would help. However, what neither bothered to voice was the fact that finding their exact spot in the wreckage and getting to it in a timely manner was less viable.
The cramped, dark space was suffocating. Jason hated it, and he hated not being able to move. The lightheadedness was starting to show up, though, so neither of them could afford to waste air on small talk anymore. Jason also slowly began to lose his ability to ignore the dread and climbing panic.
Then something new twisted in his gut. It reminded him of the rock-solid certainty he felt regarding the bomb, as if his innards resonated with something tangible. Within a few seconds, the feeling this time got even stronger. If Jason didn’t know better, he would say it felt like the Pits—that visceral thing of emotion that smelled like power and death—but it lacked the malice and rage and despair. Still, he nearly choked on it as something writhed and beat within him, reacting to… something.
“Do you feel that?” he had to ask. Jason might be crazy, and it wouldn’t be the first time, but good God, he could barely breathe.
“Feel what?” Tim returned, solidifying Jason’s doom. “Are you starting to get— Oh fuck!”
The otherwise stuffy enclave snapped with an unnatural cold. Dread and awe and doom and safety punched Jason in the lungs with overwhelming juxtaposition, but evidently Jason wasn’t crazy, because Tim’s head snapped up too, just as something glowing and white emerged into the darkness.
A hand, silvery green at first and then pink and green again and blue and a swirling mix of colors that moved beyond the length of the arm that emerged from the solid wall. It was as calming as it was terrifying, if Jason were to name the conflicting emotions that he refused to show outwardly.
Then a head and body emerged as well. Wispy white hair glowed like a beacon in the dark space, and there was a void-like black covering the body, but in a way where it still felt bright. Not overwhelmingly so, but noticeable, and also in a way that gave Jason the impression he was about to be swallowed whole. The figure was lithe and humanoid, however, and amidst the glow Jason could see pale green skin across a rather normal looking head and face—until the eyes, burning a toxic green, brighter than the Lazarus Pits and far more dangerous, and nestled in void black.
Jason got the distinct, bone-deep feeling that this wasn’t a rogue or some meta. This was someone bigger than that, who made Jason feel mortal and not like he made it a habit to fight guys three times his metaphorical size on a regular basis. Yet, the other part of him whispered that it was familiar. That the being demanded awe and respect. It calmed him down, and that alone made the encounter all the more harrowing, because what the hell.
The being blinked, almost breaking the spell. “Oh thank the Ancients, you’re in one piece,” he gasped, voice tinged with an echo but purely sincere and lighthearted. That broke Jason out of his stupor, somewhat, because the eldritch being that should have been someone like Constatine’s problem had an American inflection and did not immediately spew creepy shit.
“What the hell?” Tim whispered.
“Oh, sorry.” The glowing, intangible dude managed to look sheepish. “I know you guys probably don’t want me involved and stuff, but I noticed you were under here, and I thought I could get you out?”
Why did he sound so casual and yet unsure about this? Who was this guy? “Is there a catch?” Jason asked, because fae-ass creatures like this always had a catch, right? The weird feeling in his gut said this guy was legit, but Jason decided to listen to his paranoia instead.
“Holy cow, you are like… super ecto for a living being,” the eldritch dude muttered instead, looking straight at Jason and not making him feel better at all. “Oh, but uh, yeah no catch. Promise. I will drop you off outside and then be out of your way. Er, mostly…”
Jason shared a quick glance with Tim, tilting his head ever so slightly to make up for the fact that Tim couldn’t see any of his facial expressions beyond the helmet. Tim barely shrugged one shoulder, the message clear: go for it.
If this guy could get them out, they would deal with it later. He wasn’t overtly malicious enough to not take him up on the offer.
The phantom like creature—Jason’s gut could not believe he was a normal meta—reached out two hands, surprisingly solid despite the twisting aurora colors. Once Jason and Tim took hold, he pulled them straight through the wreckage. It was similar to how J’onn’s intangibility worked, Jason would say, but way more…floaty? Whatever. Jason didn’t need to explain it, because shortly, they were out.
Tim inhaled deeply. “Wow. Okay. So, first of all, thank you. Second of all, not to sound ungrateful, but I have to ask: who are you?”
The dude blinked owlishly, his eyes not as soul-chilling now that they were out in the open, and because he looked purely confounded. “Oh. You don’t… know?”
“Are we supposed to?!” Jason couldn’t help but to snap, because something deep within him knew, but not in a way that made words in his head. If Jason didn’t know any better, he would say that it was a stolen memory, or something he just couldn’t remember, and that freaked him out a bit, but Tim was just as confused.
“Uh… I guess not. Huh.” He floated in place, a cape full of stars and galaxies idly behind him. “Huhhhhh.”
“Hey, we’re not looking for trouble if you aren’t,” Tim was quick to say, something calculating behind the narrow gaze of his domino mask. “Nothing wrong with being a meta, either. Thank you for the assist, but it might be best not to mess with the crime scene, being an unfamiliar face and all.”
Ah, Jason saw what he was doing. Tim was playing the good cop, discouraging the being away but not chasing him away. Which was to say, he wasn’t promising cooperation, but he did want to be supportive enough to gain insight on his motivation. Well played.
“Oh trust me, I don’t want anybody to see me. You guys were a special case, because I felt bad and I wasn’t sure if they were going to get you out. I do have to look into one thing here, but I will be out of your way, I swear. Big fan, by the way. You guys do great work. I kinda thought you knew I was in town, especially since I did some stuff before…? But, uh, just forget about me! I’m not a vigilante and definitely not a villain. I just live here!”
After an honest-to-God ramble, complete with lots of arm flapping, his eldritch vibes diminished greatly—until he stopped rambling to look straight at Jason, peering with eyes in that shade of green as if he were looking into Jason’s very soul. His insides shivered.
“...actually, maybe we should talk later,” he amended in a murmur.
He knew something. Jason could feel it. This guy looked at Jason and saw something familiar back.
What the absolute fuck?
The floating guy whipped his head to the side, ear twitching slightly as if he heard something approaching. Jason wouldn’t be surprised if the Bats descended on them shortly, even though they weren’t out in the open yet. His comms were still dead though; if anything, the interference was worse than when they were buried. Go figure.
“I should really get going…” he said, floating upward.
“Wait! You said we could meet!” Tim intervened. Jason was pretty sure that part was mostly aimed at Jason, for some reason, but he wouldn’t argue with Tim’s quick thinking either. “What about the law building rooftop? Saturday night. I’ll even bring food.”
“...you know what, sure. Just you two, right?”
He sounded nervous. Jason didn’t blame him. Batman had a reputation for not liking metas, even though it was overblown. Eh, Jason wouldn’t tell him anyway, since this was an extra thing. “Promise.”
Tim nodded as well.
“Cool.”
Then he vanished in thin air. The presence didn’t leave, but it did start to fade, until his insides felt more like guts and less like something autonomous.
“I think I met him before,” Tim said, breaking the dumbfounded silence. “I felt that chill before. It’s… He’s gotta be the Note Ghost. Oh my God, I guessed meta, but not like that.”
“What?”
Jason did his best to not be like Bruce and therefore not be nosey, so he did not make it a habit to ask people about their cases, but there was so much to unpack there.
“It’s a long story,” Tim replied, rather predictably. There was manic excitement starting to settle in his expression though, which meant it was a long case too. “Any idea why he was interested in you?”
“...no idea.” The closest guess Jason had was that the ghostly meta felt like a clean Lazarus Pit, and the remnants of what remained from his dip in one recognized that, but there was no way he was saying that out loud without it sounding stupid, so he would stew on the theory a bit longer.
“Well, uh… He seems flighty, so I say we keep this on the down-low. Maybe we can…exchange notes? Soon? Among, uh, other things.”
Right, their awkward heart-to-heart. Honestly, the mysterious dude made for a much better bonding session. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Tim seemed fine with it, and Jason didn’t mind talking to Tim about the Pits, because Tim was the one to give Al Ghul the giant middle finger after blowing a lot of shit up other there, so he didn’t get as squirrelly on the topic. At least Jason hoped not.
“Yeah, sure. Coffee?”
“Perfect.”
“We should let the others know we’re not buried though.” How to go about this in a way that would make people worry the least… “Say we crawled our way out?”
“Good idea.”