Work Text:
Dick was writhing in the ropes, desperate and ineffective.
It had been a normal night.
Nightwing had taken Robin out for Patrol while Batman worked on a case. Damian was still having a hard time adjusting to life outside of the League of Shadows, but acting as Robin helped. Tensions in the manor today had been particularly high, perhaps that was why Faust was able to take them unaware? Still, Magic was not their forte. All the things they could have done to prepare better crowded themselves into Dick’s brain as he struggled against the magical restraints. His subconscious was doing anything to keep him from watching was was currently happening.
Robin was thrashing on a stone alter, tied and jerking violently to hinder Faust. Nightwing had fallen to a sleeping spell, but the sorcerer had not been kind when kidnapping Robin. The vigilante could see some discoloration of the skin where the circulation had been cut off by the tightness of the ropes and seeing Robin’s uncoordinated attacks, it was clear he had a concussion on top of any other injuries sustained.
After a chanting in a foreign tongue, Faust lifted the ceremonial dagger and plunged it into Damian’s heart. Dick’s scream was muffled by a magical gag.
Dick had activated a distress beacon as soon as he had woken and Robin likely activated his earlier. If… If Batman came in the Batmobile soon and they happened to be close to a clinic or hospital, Damian still had a chance. Please, Dick begged silently.
A… being materialized from the air behind the alter. Its floor length, white hair floated lazily around its feet as it glided forward towards Damian, who was gasping and shaking from going into shock on the alter. Dick fought to keep his eyes from further blurring with tears as the creature brought a blackened claw up and scraped the back of its finger along Damian’s cheek.
Instantly, Robin froze stock still, not even breathing anymore. Then the being looked at the other members of the room impassively. Blue-green irises, surrounded by pitch black, rested calmly on Faust, who was kneeling with his head bowed. From Dick’s position, he could see the moment when Faust’s head came up. He was breathlessly happy with an undertone of greed.
“I- your Highness.” He dipped his head in subservience again. “I have brought you the soul of a protector, the youngest protector currently operating in this world’s society of heroes. Possibly the youngest they have ever had.”
So that was why Faust had taken Robin, Dick realized, to fit this thing’s preferences.
The bats had wanted their home to be better for Damian than in the League of Assassins, safer.
They failed. Even if Damian managed to escape the demon’s clutches, the chances of him surviving transport to emergency surgery dwindled with each second. Dick sobbed through the magical gag. It didn’t make a sound.
“I assure you the child is skilled and-“ Faust tried to continue but the creature interrupted him.
“What do you want?” Its voice was like a whisper but it echoed throughout the cavern.
The sound crackled like a fire: part warm and safe, part was burning and consuming.
Its hair continued to float and curl weightless.
Something about the voice brought Faust pause, and after a moment he continued, carefully choosing each word.
“I want to escape the rule of death. I desire the power to transition from death to life and back, never belonging to either realm. Do you accept the sacrifice?”
Dick’s heart wailed as the abomination looked with listless eyes at his brother and said “I accept the sacrifice.” The ropes around his brother immediately went up in flames and burned out of existence. Damian slumped out of his frozen state, neither breathing nor bleeding.
Faust let out an unbelieving laugh. Then grinned like a maniac and let his laugh build and build. Who knew what twisted ends the sorcerer could now achieve. The monster seemed to have similar wonders.
“What are your intentions for my power?”
Faust grinned cruelly. Any earlier reverence for the power in front of him was gone and he sneered his answer. “I will conquer this earth; subjugating all I come across, while welding a death I no longer fear.”
“Fool.” The blasé voice cut Faust like a knife. Rage and disbelief colored the mage’s face.
“What?!” He demanded. At the being's nonplussed demeanor, Faust recited
“The fatal bleeding of a protector will bring the Ghost King near.
One soul, if accepted will give what is dear.
You accepted! You must give what I hold dear!”
The demon’s face showed a mild disgust. The first emotion it had shown yet. Its hair started twisting and curling, then thrashing about as the entity corrected the translation.
“The fatal blood of a protector brings the Ghost King near.
One’s soul, if accepted will give what is dear.
The king of death hears pleas, not only from the great.
A true heart buys the right to ask for a change of fate.
“You have taken a life, but a soul can only be given.”
The Demon sneered. “You have sacrificed nothing and have no right to ask me for a deal”
The monster looked calmly at Dick’s brother,
“I accept the child’s sacrifice.”
Faust raged, but the ghost king was done with him. Emotionless, it waved Faust away as an invisible force shoved the sorcerer to a puke-green portal which swallowed him up and closed. Locking him away.
Robin had sat up, watching the proceedings. He held the being’s stare. The determination was so distinctly Damian that Dick’s eyes watered again. What would this monster want with a child? Would death be the better option?
The creature approached Robin slowly, “If you would like, I can give you the power the charlatan desired. You would belong to me, and Death would have no true claim over you.”
***
Damian was not a fool. When the blade pierced his heart and his lungs started filling with blood, he knew he was about to die. He was riding the pain and fighting slipping into shock out of a mix of habit and the desire for his teammate to survive this.
When the portal opened… he ran his calculations again. Powerful magic could easily get him to a hospital, at the very least. As blank eyes met his, hope clawed its way into him. Their mask was impenetrable, but Robin somehow felt(hoped?) there were emotions underneath.
As a charred hand reached toward him, he kept careful eye contact; He knew bargains with the fae were serious matters.
As the knuckle of the clawed finger gently touched him — it was warm, he distantly noticed — his body turned to stone around him. The pain disappeared and panic gripped him. He shoved down the instinct to thrash around within the bonds. Focus. Analyze. What could he do? He could hear. Faust was prattling on about something. Damian could move his eyes. He looked back at the being to meet their eyes. While their face was unreadable, Damian didn’t think the being had meant to be malicious. After another moment, he realized. He was in stasis. Frozen in time so that he didn’t die while they were discussing. Anger flared at the idea that they were about to discuss him like a bag of meat kept on ice. He mimed the mental motions of a deep breath. He couldn’t physically interact with the world right now, but he could still think. He’d use the ‘gift’ to gather information and plan. After he looked back at them, the supernatural being shifted to focus on Faust and cut off his rambling.
“What do you want?”
Faust described the power he wanted to have. Damian internally scoffed. Sure it sounded good, but it specified neither invulnerability nor immortality, probably on the assumption that the power would grant him both.
It wouldn’t. His grandfather has long been assumed to have achieved immortality, but Damian had been close enough to see the contingencies. Grandfather only had so many plans and shields in place because forever was impossible to guarantee. Of course Faust would choose something both grandiose and stupid.
Damian could feel the magic clamp onto his being as the stasis was dropped. It was disorienting but he fought through the fog and looked at Faust again, who was livid. Faust had made some mistake then.
“-no right to ask me for a deal.” The being peered inquisitively into Robin’s eyes. “I accept the child’s sacrifice.” They spoke with the same undertone of burning power, but the last line felt quieter. Gentler. Damian sat up. He could feel the phantom pounding his heart would have been doing had it been able. The fae wanted Damian’s soul, so he was being offered a deal in Faust’s place.
Could Damian refuse the deal and ask to be released?
Probably not. The magic clamped around him was acting like a tourniquet keeping the life inside him. If the fae’s magic was removed, he would go back to dying.
Damian considered the deal. It was uncharacteristically honest. While he wasn’t really certain what exactly he would gain from the deal, belonging to the Ghost King was certainly the price. No trickery. But there wasn’t really a need to hide the cost when the alternative was Death. Robin knew full well that some would call this fate ‘worse then death,’ but those people were stupid. As long as he could continue, he could improve his circumstances. Only Death would truly stop him. It was worth enduring whatever ‘belonging’ entailed.
Damian nodded, sealing the contract.
The fae held out their hand and conjured a goblet. They set it next to Robin and pulled the dagger out of his chest. Damian didn’t feel pain from it although he could still feel the roughness of the stone underneath him. His soon-to-be owner was very powerful indeed to allow particular feelings to reach his brain while his body was paused. Damian might even be able to talk currently even without working lungs to draw breath with.
The fae took the knife and cut open their own hand to let a stream of green blood start to fill the cup.
Damian was likely going to test the limits of his new master sooner or later. No different starting now.
“Can we free my teammate before we leave?” He indicated Nightwing, who was still straining against the magic bonds. The fae barely glanced at him before waving their hand, the bindings falling off. Nightwing bolted towards the alter, and Damian glared at him.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” He demanded and Nightwing slowed to a stop.
“Robin, you have to stay,” He pleaded.
“Tsk” Damian scoffed. “Robin has been fatally wounded. I have failed. I’m sure Father will have no trouble finding another.”
Damian looked back at the fae. Their hand was completely healed and the cup held approximately 3 ounces of glowing green liquid. Damian steeled himself. The cup steamed slightly.
“Drink this and it will rewrite your form. You will die while still retaining a connection to the living. Both worlds will try to keep a hold on you. As they fight to hold on to your soul, it will start to tear.” The fae explained, looking detached. “Pain doesn’t begin to cover it. Eventually the dual pressure will settle keeping you balanced on the edge between life and death. You will become one of the restless dead yet fully human as well. Never fitting entirely with either. But you will have a home with me.” The cup was presented to Damian.
He didn’t hesitate.
He refused to die.
He would persist and overcome every challenge he faced.
Damian felt the hot liquid go down his throat, scalding and infecting him with whatever power this entity possessed. If the Magic was inside him before, now it invaded his every cell. It overloaded the sensations of his insides knitting back together.
He convulsed as he died and was immediately revived over and over again.
Distantly, he wondered what his brother was feeling watching the agony.
A little selfish part of him wanted Grayson to be distraught at Damian leaving.
Most of him wanted to be unconscious. He soon got his wish.