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The luminescent lights are dimmed, the batcomputer is too bright, the air is stifling. Father is already standing in the middle of the room with his back straight and head held high. He’s standing like he’s done nothing wrong, like he’s in power, an absolute authority. He’s standing like Jason’s blood isn’t splattered all over his suit, was still dripping from his knuckles only ten minutes ago. Drake is sitting in the chair in front of the computer, confused and exhausted, bags dark and heavy under his eyes. Alfred’s footsteps are loud as he walks down the stairs. Grayson is carrying Jason in his arms, a bridal carry supported by a shaking hold. Jason’s arms are hanging limply at his sides, they’re broken. Damian is walking behind them, watching Jason’s weak points, protecting him when he can’t protect himself.
Damian is aware that Jason’s secret is most certainly exposed, that the secret identity is out in the open, explicit for anyone to see. It’s obvious that the maskless Cardinal is Jason Todd, even with the signs of age and growth, even with his face swollen, bloodied and broken. Damian almost has to tear his gaze away whenever they catch on Jason’s eyes for too long. It’s not a pretty picture. Father did that. Damian feels ill.
Everyone but Steph and Cass is there, Damian hates all of them but Jason. It’s a quiet hatred, the kind that doesn’t boil but simmers, ready to erupt at moments notice. “Save him. Do whatever needs to be done.” Damian uses his most authoritarian voice, the one he used in the League, his heir voice. Grayson is still unmoving with Jason in his arms, Father still hasn’t taken his cowl off. Alfred starts preparing the medical area, brings out whatever they might need and dresses the cot. Drake is messaging someone on his phone. Jason gurgles, his voice a little clearer than before, but still broken, still restricted by a swollen face and dislocated jaw. Damian used to communicate with Jason when Jason was unable to speak at all, when he was nothing more than a shell of a human being, a comatose piece of meat, now is easy in comparison.
Damian finds a phone in one of Jason’s belt-pouches, there’s only one number on it, it’s mama’s. Damian dials the number and puts the phone to his ear. Jason gurgles again, Damian nods. Damian ignores the puzzled looks the others are giving them. “Calling already?” Damian hasn’t heard his mother’s voice in so long, if he had been anywhere else he might have cried. “Mother. I’m afraid the red bird is out of the cage.” Everyone tenses at that word, at mother. Like she’s the one who almost beat someone who she’s supposed to love to death, like she’s the monster. The anger is kept to a simmer, Jason is still breathing, mama’s voice is still in his ear.
“Can he talk?” Damian follows Grayson when he moves to put Jason down on the cot. “No. Dislocated jaw, might be blind. Shouldn’t be fatal.” She hums, it’s a contained response, Damian can hear the underlying simmer in it, none of them are boiling. “Do you want me to come?” Not do you need me, but do you want me. The difference is significant. Damian’s side is plastered to the side of the cot, he can feel Jason’s warmth even though they aren’t touching. “I’ll figure it out. You’ll know if I change my mind.” Damian needs to figure the situation out first, mother’s presence might hinder Jason’s recovery, might account to nothing but more fighting and more bloodshed. Jason’s fingers twitch, Damian reaches out and starts playing with them, his own fingers gentle but there. “I want to know everything later. Thank you for informing me. I love you.” She hangs up before Damian can reply, he’s happy for it. He wouldn’t have wanted to say those words back in father’s presence.
“Steph and Leslie will be here in five. Cass is still on the flight back.” Damian almost hates Drake the least. He wants Cass to hurry up, he wishes that she’ll be on his side, that it won’t be just Damian and Jason against everyone else. “Damian, we need to talk.” Father is still wearing the cowl, he is showing nothing, there’s blood on his costume and dried teartracks on his chin. “Not until I’m sure that he’s fine.” Damian would have liked to ignore him, father doesn’t even deserve a response. If it hadn’t been for Jason, Damian would have been dead ten times over. “Damian-”
Drake had gotten up from the chair and put his hand on father’s chest, interrupting him without a word. “Leave it. If it’s that important, it can wait. The kid has been missing for days, give him a break.” Tim is as pale as a sheet, the bags under his eyes are as dark as coffee, but he still looks the strongest that Damian’s ever seen him. Damian doesn’t even tell him off for calling him a kid. Drake walks close to the cot and aims all his attention at Jason. “If I get something to eat and drink for your brother, will you tell me what those light signals meant? They have been driving me up the walls for weeks.” If Jason could laugh, he would have, what comes out is some kind of hiccuping noise and another gurgle. Drake diverts his eyes to Damian, as if he’s asking for a translation. “He accepts for as long as you get something for yourself as well.” Father didn’t even twitch during the entire interaction, he just stood there, completely still, his cowl still on.
Steph and this ‘Leslie’ arrive before Drake comes back with the promised food and drink. Alfred is immediately assigned as Leslie’s assistant and they start ushering everyone away. Damian refuses to move. He will not leave his brother alone, not when he can’t trust anyone other than himself and mama with his safety. “Kid, we will do whatever we can to help him get better, but you need to leave. You will only get in our way and hinder the process. I’m sure that’s not what you want. I’ll come and get you the second we’re done.” Her voice is stern but not un-kind. Damian still doesn’t want to leave. “I don’t know you. I can’t trust you alone with my brother.” Jason gurgles. Damian leaves.
Father is waiting for him upstairs, Damian ignores him and tries to walk away. Father takes a hold of his shoulder, his grip is strong but Damian can get loose if he really wants to. “You need to tell me everything. Who is he.” Damian doesn’t want to give father anything. Not when everything is his fault, not when Damian saw him on top of Jason’s ribcage, not when he almost took Jason away from him. Damian is quiet. “Damian-” Stephanie is the one who interrupts him this time, she opens the door with a slam, she’s smiling but her eyes are sharp. She’s carrying a plate of snacks and a big water bottle. It’s probably what Drake prepared. “Damian, I need your help with something.” He breaks out of father’s grip and follows her.
They walk to Damian’s room, he closes the door behind them as Stephanie puts her things down on the floor. “Are you alright?” Is he alright? “I think my heart stopped. I was seconds away from being gone forever, and he saved me. It should be impossible, but he saved me.” Damian thinks of the books under the floorboards underneath his bed, he thinks of the passages in Sula about dead robins. He keeps talking. “He saved me, and what does he get in return? You saw what he looked like. Father did that. He almost killed him.” There are so many things that Damian wants to say, the words feel heavy on his tongue. He drinks some water. “It’s really him, isn’t it? The second Robin, the Todd-guy?” Damian huffs, it’s a bitter sound. He knows how little father and Grayson speak of Jason, how little his legacy has been honored. “Yeah. He is.”
They’re quiet as Damian pushes down the sandwiches, he only eats them because it’s what Jason would have wanted—no, what he wants. “Is—is he the one who killed the Joker?” Stephanie is looking at her hands, she’s ripping off pieces of her cuticles, the skin on the side of her thumb rips a little too far and a bead of blood comes to the surface. Damian is still covered in his own blood, he hasn’t had the time to shower. “Probably.” Jason never told him explicitly, but it’s rather obvious. Damian knows what green All Blades can do. Steph brings her thumb to her mouth and licks up the blood before it starts to drip, she isn’t looking at Damian.
“He killed Black Mask too, right? It wasn’t a suicide.” She’s trying to rip some skin off of another finger, she’s chewing at the inside of her cheek. “He wasn’t very pleased with the fact that no one avenged him. No one avenged you either, Robin.” She meets his eyes for the first time since they sat down on the floor. Her lips wobble against the skin of her thumb (the blood was almost spilling over again) and her eyes are wetter than usual. “He didn’t even know me, we never even met.” Damian takes out the copy of Sula he got from the manor’s library, it’s on his nightstand. “This is the third book I read for Jason after we found him. It’s the first book he read after getting his memories back. It was when I read this book that I first saw him cry.”
Damian opens the book, he will never forget the number of the page, he would be able to recite the entire thing without reading a word, but he does it anyway. Damian begins to read:
“Accompanied by a plague of robins, Sula came back to Medallion. The little yarn-breasted shuddering birds were everywhere, exciting very small children away from their usual welcome into a vicious stoning. Nobody knew why or from where they had come. What they did know was that you couldn’t go anywhere without stepping in their pearly shit, and it was hard to hang up clothes, pull weeds or just sit on the front porch when robins were flying and dying all around you”
Damian skips forward a bit, moves to the next passage.
“What was taken by outsiders to be slackness, slovenliness or even generosity was in fact a full recognition of the legitimacy of forces other than good ones. They did not believe doctors could heal—for them, none ever had done so. They did not believe death was accidental—life might be, but death was deliberate. They did not believe Nature was ever askew—only inconvenient. Plague and drought were as “natural” as springtime. If milk could curdle, God knows robins could fall.”
Damian doesn’t look at Steph, he ignores her red-rimmed wide eyes and moves to the last passage he plans to read.
“At Eva’s house there were four dead robins on the walk. Sula stopped and with her toe pushed them into the bordering grass.”
“To Jason, who you are doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you fell. Jason isn’t the kind of person who leaves fallen birds behind, or pushes them to the side with his foot. Jason is the kind of person who saves them when he can, and avenges them when he can’t.” Damian hands her the book, it’s unmarked, his personal copy from Nanda Parbat is still underneath the floorboards. “You should read it, it’s good.” Steph is smiling, there’s teartracks on her cheeks, her thumb has stopped bleeding. “I will, thank you.” Damian fiddles with his own hands, he tries to rub the dried blood away. “If you were a bird, you would be the Banded yellow robin.” Damian feels embarrassment color his ears and the back of his neck. He’s saved by a knock at his door.
Grayson and Drake are standing in the hallway. Drake looks like usual, he’s slightly less pale than before, he probably ate something as per Jason’s gurgled instructions. Grayson looks nervous, he’s fidgeting, he also looks like the guilt-ridden bastard that he is. “Can we come in?” Drake is smiling, he waves a little at Stephanie who still hasn’t recovered. “You can come in. Grayson should take a shower.” Damian makes sure that none of his face muscles show even the slightest of emotion. Drake hesitates for a second before entering, Grayson looks devastated. Damian doesn’t care. “Shower.” Damian doesn’t slam the door, he doesn’t close it quietly either. No one mentions that Damian hasn’t showered either. Damian will shower once he knows that Jason will be okay.
It feels weird to have Drake in his room. They haven’t interacted much since grandfather’s men invaded the manor. “I’m sorry, Damian.” He hadn’t expected that, at all. Damian keeps his features still, he blinks. “For what?” Damian’s heart is rushing, he doesn’t understand. Damian hates not being able to understand. Steph looks surprised as well, if she hadn’t, Damian would have thought she put him up to this like Cass put Grayson up to ‘being honest’.
“You never meant to be cruel, and I was ignorant to believe that everything was about me. It’s not an excuse, but my parents had just died and so had Steph and Superboy. I thought you were mocking them.” Damian has learned that it’s difficult to understand stupid people. Damian has learned that smart people are almost easier to read because he can understand them. (Jason and mama always call father foolish, perhaps that is why Damian can’t understand him, because only foolish people can understand foolish people.) Drake isn’t stupid, he isn’t a fool either. Drake is smart. Damian might be starting to understand him. Damian starts folding pages in his head, he scans through their contents, got it. “If you were a bird, you would be a North Island Robin.”
The North Island robin, or Petroica longipes, is a sexually dimorphic bird endemic to the North Island of New Zealand. North Island robins have been the subject of a plethora of behavioural and cognitive studies. They are bold and curious, often lacking fear towards people. North Island robins have been shown to have adept numerical competency, spatial and long-term memory, and have shown that cognitive performance is linked to behavior and reproductive success in the wild.
“Is that like—a thing for you? Birds? You gave me one as well.” Damian feels small. He knows that the rules are different here compared to the rules in the League. In the League, you don’t apologize to people. In the League, you don’t cry in front of someone else. Here, both of those things seem to be natural. In the League, you don’t talk about birds. “I quite enjoy Indonesian robins, I am quite familiar with those endemic to Australia, New Guinea and New Zealand as well.” Damian wouldn’t talk about birds with father, but he can talk about them here, in the comfort of his own room. “That’s so cool! Do you have one for Cass? Or yourself, or…Cardinal?” Drake obviously knows that Cardinal is Jason Todd, Stephanie still doesn’t say his name.
“Cassandra is a Smoky Robin and he is a Snow Mountain Robin. I don’t know which one I am.” Damian used to think that he was a Golden-Bellied Flyrobin, he hasn’t believed that in a while. Drake appears to be googling them on his phone, he shows Stephanie pictures of all of them. They’re giggling about the pictures, Steph thinks that all of them are “so adorable!!”.
“Have you thought about which ones the others would be?” Tim looks ready to type in their names, Damian hates that the answers almost fly out. He doesn’t think that Grayson necessarily deserves to be a bird, being a bird from that book should be something special. None of the birds fit father, he doesn’t get one. “Grayson would be a Flame robin, and Alfred would be a Pale-yellow robin.”
The flame robin, or Petroica phoenicea, is a small passerine bird. Their song is more varied and complex than that of similar songbirds, and has been described as the most musical of the robins. A series of descending notes in groups of three, the musical song has been likened to the phrases, “you-may-come, if-you-will, to-the-sea” or “you-are-not a-pretty-little-bird like-me”.
When perched or between bouts of foraging on the ground, the flame robin holds itself in a relatively upright pose, with its body angled at 45° or less from the vertical, and its wings held low below its tail. It impresses as nervous and twitchy, flicking its wings alternately when still. The flame robin's flight is fast, with a markedly undulating character.
The flame robin is territorial, defending its territory against other members of its species, and also scarlet robins where they co-occur. The flame robin deploys a number of agonistic displays, including a breast-puffing display. They may also fly at intruders or sing to defend their territory.
The pale-yellow robin, or Eopsaltria capito, is a species of passerine bird in the family Petroicidae. The pale-yellow robin is arboreal and secretive. It is predominantly insectivorous, though may supplement its diet with seeds. Alternate common names given to the species have been large-headed robin and pale robin.
Drake and Stephanie look delighted by this new knowledge, about assigning people birds like authors assigning their characters with a name or favorite color. “I’d love to do this kind of thing with Young Justice. We all choose a category each and have to assign each other something from that category. Like someone picks fruits, someone picks rocks and someone picks singers from the eighties.” The bags underneath Drake’s eyes look prominent enough to carry groceries, and yet he seems filled with energy. Steph snorts, “You could just do personality quizzes on Quotev or something.” Damian doesn’t know what this ‘Quotev’ thing is, and has no interest in finding out. “No, the whole thing is that we have to decide. It’s more fun and personal that way.” Stephanie laughs, “You just want to know what things Conner would give you.” She speaks around a large, teasing grin.
If Damian hadn’t been on the brink of death only hours ago, if Jason wasn’t possibly permanently blind and bleeding two stories down, he might have indulged in Steph and Drake’s whimsy conversation. Right now, he can’t find it in himself to engage in further conversation. He is content to listen, to pretend that he is able to forget all the blood and pain that flooded that basement. But Damian feels lost, afraid and so, so angry. But Stephanie and Drake chose to sit down on Damian’s floor and talk about meaningless things over interrogating him alongside father. Damian doesn’t really dare to hope, but there might not just be him and Jason against the world. Perhaps robins of different species can stick together. Maybe, just maybe, Damian was even more wrong about resonating with the Golden-Bellied Flyrobin than he first believed.
Then Cassandra returns. She was supposed to stay even longer, but she had jumped on the first flight back to Gotham the second she received the news that Damian was gone. She had messaged Stephanie when she was close to the manor and now Damian is standing with Drake and Steph in the hallway to await her arrival. The door opens and Cassandra’s eyes immediately flick in his direction, ignoring the other two as if they were nothing but air, as if Damian is the only thing that matters.
She’s close, close enough to touch, she keeps her hands to herself. “Are you hurt?” Not are you okay. Damian isn’t okay. “No. Not even a bruise.” She shows her intent so well, her body language open and clear, Damian accepts, he nods. Cass’ fingers touch the skin that’s left exposed in the rips of clothing, where Damian was bleeding before Jason saved him. Her fingers catch on the bloodied edges of fabric, it’s hard and rough against the skin. “It’s your blood. Cardinal did this?” If anyone else had asked, Damian might have thought that they wanted to know if Jason had been the one to hurt him. “He saved me.” He still doesn’t reply with ‘yes’ just to be sure.
“Where is he?” Damian feels a surge of protectiveness, of regret, of fear—he is reminded that he isn’t by Jason’s side. “He is receiving medical attention in the cave.” He doesn’t mention why Jason needs medical attention, he isn’t sure he could utter the words. There is a reason why he didn’t tell mama about what happened. He can’t. Not yet. “How bad?” She is serious, her eyes are kind, she reminds Damian of mama. A mama who doesn’t kill. “He might be blind. There was a lot of blood, some broken ribs, some bruised. Both arms broken, his jaw is fractured. Don’t know anything else for sure.” Damian can list injuries just fine. He just doesn’t want to think about who inflicted them, or why.
“Where is Dick and Bruce?” Damian doesn’t want to think about them, he doesn’t want to hear father’s name. Cass must recognize something in his face, because she moves her gaze towards Drake instead. “Dick went to take a shower, Bruce is probably waiting outside of the cave. I was watching the cowl-footage with Alfred the entire time. It was bad. It wasn’t the kidnappers who inflicted the damage.” Drake knows everything that happened, and he still talked with Damian about birds. They must know that Jason did nothing wrong, that Jason saved him. Cass lightly pokes his elbow, Damian meets her eyes. “What do you want?” Not what do you need.
Damian wants to scream at father, to inflict revenge, to do what Jason would have done for him. Damian wants to go back in time and make sure that this never happened. Damian wants so many things, and he can have none of it. “I want him to be alright. I want him to be able to see. I want to be able to do something.” Damian is almost whispering, he almost can’t get the words out. “They will probably be done soon, let’s go.”
Father is still wearing the cowl, Jason’s blood still covers his suit. He’s standing in front of the clock, waiting to be let in. Damian won’t let father be alone with Jason ever again. “Finally ready to talk?” Damian doesn’t want to talk to him, if he does, he might not be able to stay in control. “Bruce, can we talk first?” Father hadn’t even acknowledged Cassandra’s presence before she spoke. “Fine.” Cass and father exit the room, Steph and Drake enter.
Damian looks at Drake, at Jason’s replacement who’s so different to Jason that ‘replacement’ doesn’t really fit. Damian looks at Tim Drake, at Robin. “Jason saved me. He is my brother, and he saved me.” Damian is making a strenuous effort to keep his anger at a simmer, it’s getting more and more difficult, he’s starting to feel exhausted. “I know. I don’t know how it worked, but I know.” Damian figures that Jason used his All Blades, that he used the yellow ones that he explained but wasn’t able to summon in the apartment.
“I won’t forgive father. Not unless he does what he did to Jason to himself.” Damian thinks about the sword that mama gave him, he thinks about using it. “That’s fine. I won’t forgive the people who hurt those that I care about either.” Damian thinks about Jason killing the Joker, about having to avenge himself. He thinks that Tim knows who avenged Stephanie, someone he cares about. “Even if it was father who did it?” This feels oddly similar to the conversation Damian had with Cass about killing all those months ago. “I would probably be able to forgive him eventually. But I would never forget. I won’t forget this either.” Damian’s anger is still simmering but he feels lighter, everything feels just a little easier.
“You don’t even know him. He has spoken to you once.” Tim smiles a rueful little smile. “I actually spoke with him a few times when we were kids. Also, I used to help this one girl with studying, she was two years older than me, in Jason’s grade, and we became pretty good friends. She was always bullied for her weight, and one evening, when I helped her study, she entered with a particularly huge smile on her face. That day, when one boy had called her fat, someone punched him in the face. It was a damn good punch too. Apparently his name was Jason Todd. People stopped calling her fat after that.” Steph smacks him lightly with Sula, she’s still holding it, Damian had forgotten that he gave it to her in the first place. “We’re not the kind of people that leaves fallen birds behind, or pushes them to the side either.”
~._.~-*-~._.~
Jason opens his eyes, he still can’t see. Everything is bright, blinding. It looks, and feels, like he’s looking right into the sun. “What did you do?” Jason can’t see souls here, all he can see is the brightness of this false sun. All he knows is the voice speaking to him. “Essence?” He can’t see her, but he can feel her fingers against his forehead. “You never fail to surprise.” She never fails to be cryptic. “What’s going on?” Her hand trails down towards his cheek, he swats her arm away, he doesn’t want to be touched.
“Each color was supposed to do one thing. That was one of the very few rules we could establish.” He can still feel the phantom touch of her hand against his face, he doesn’t like it. “Yes? Where am I?” Jason is having trouble breathing, everything is too bright. “You’re asleep, medically, I entered your head. Why did the All Blades change properties?” Jason’s head feels like it’s splitting open, everything hurts, it feels too much like the dull. “I don’t know. All I care about is that it somehow saved my brother.” Jason can almost feel Essence’s frustration, he can feel it pressing close, as if the frustration wants to eat him whole. “You killed and then you saved, with the same color. What were you thinking about? What was it? Have you used it before?”
Jason has summoned pink All Blades twice (technically five times), in his apartment with Damian (that was four out of five), and in that basement. “I’ve been thinking about different things every time, I’ve been angry and happy but they came out pink anyway.” Jason speaks through gritted teeth, it feels like his head is about to explode. “What’s the common denominator, then? There has to be a pattern.” Damian, it’s always Damian. Essence’s fingers brush over his eyelids, he must have closed them. Jason pushes her away, again. He steps back, one, two, three steps. “I’ve been close to my brother.” Jason can’t see, he can’t know if she’s close or if she’s still three steps away.
Long-nailed hands grab his face, thumbs right in front of his ears and palms cradling his neck, they bring him closer, closer until his forehead touches another, touches hers. It feels like a bomb goes off. Jason uses all of his strength to get away, to force her hands off of his skin. “Don’t touch me.” He wants to scream, to shout, but his voice comes out calm. He still doesn’t know where she is.
“You love your brother.” Jason can’t think, he feels overwhelmed, everything’s too much. “Yes?” Of course Jason loves his brother. Damian is everything, all that really matters. “I do not know for certain, but love is known to be the most complex emotion of all.” Jason doesn’t understand, he can’t think. Essence speaks again, “Your All Blades will be pink every time you’re within your brother’s presence.” Where is she getting this from? What does she know? “Love is supposed to be this great, all consuming emotion, I suppose that it isn’t too farfetched to assume that its properties change depending on what you need them to do.”
Jason doesn’t know where she is and everything hurts, his lips feel glued together. “I guess that’s one mystery solved.” Jason can feel how the words are spoken into the skin right underneath his jaw, he can feel her exhale. She isn’t touching him, but it feels like his skin is being ripped apart and stitched together simultaneously. It itches, it hurts. “What are you doing to me?” His voice is shaking, barely audible. Essence isn’t touching him and Jason can’t see. “The Untitled have disappeared, they are planning something bad. Mother won’t tell me anything. If it’s that bad, we need you.” It feels like his blood is boiling, like it’s trying to erupt and escape through the pores in his skin. “What?”
“What do you need to do before we leave?” Her voice is absolute, Jason can’t leave. “I’m blind. I’m injured to the point that someone without the Lazarus’ influence might’ve died, and my brother needs me. There’s so much to do, I can’t just leave.” Everything is so fucking bright. “I will take care of it. You do not need to worry.”
It feels like he just got hit by lightning. Jason tries to sit up, it works fine but still hurts like a bitch. He still can’t see. “Essence?” There’s shuffling around him, no one answers. Jason tries to activate his soul detection, this time it works. Alfred and Leslie are standing on each side of him, both of them seem to be holding their breath. Jason reaches out, he starts feeling dizzy. His limit is shit. “Where’s Damian?” The shuffling starts again, Jason doesn’t really have time for Alfie and Leslie to be awkward. “I believe the young master is upstairs awaiting your awakening. I will fetch him at once.”
They’re quiet whilst Alfred is ‘fetching’ Damian. Jason doesn’t really know what to say, and Leslie probably feels the same way. There isn’t really a good way to speak with someone who supposedly came back from the dead and heals like a meta, after all. Then there’s the sound of feet rapidly tapping down the stairs, Jason feels a grin stretch over his lips. He only wishes that he could have been able to see Damian’s face. “Cardinal?” Jason’s heart feels warm, big enough to burst, filled to the brim with pink. Everyone knows, his face is out in the open, and so are his scars. Everyone probably knows that he is some variation of Jason Todd, Bruce might think that he is a clone or something, but they know. Damian still doesn’t say his name out loud. “It’s okay, you can say my name. And I’m fine, I’m not gonna break.”
Jason suddenly has his arms full of brother. Damian sure is vigorous to get up on the cot and into his arms that fast. Jason wraps his arms around him, it only hurts a little—Essence must have done something. Jason is fine with this touch, he welcomes it. He rests his forehead on Damian’s skull, breathes in his scent, and feels that he’s still real. He holds on tighter, Damian does the same, he’s shaking. Jason starts moving his hands up and down Damian’s back. They’re both alive, they’re not fine, but they will be. Jason will deal with everything else later, right now, nothing else matters. Someone clears their throat, Alfred and Leslie leave.
“You did good, Damian. Thank you.” Damian hiccups, he’s still shaking. It’s like he’s finally allowing his body to relax, like everything has caught up. “I was so scared.” Jason is petting his hair with one hand, moving up and down his back with the other. “You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” Damian shakes his head and buries it into Jason’s sternum. “I could have gotten out but I didn’t! I wasn’t in costume, I couldn’t break the rules. If I didn’t care about father’s stupid rules, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt, It’s all my fault!” Jason’s heart breaks. He hates Batman’s rules, he hates what Batman does, he hates almost everything about him. “It’s not your fault.” Damian shakes his head, he is crying, he isn’t breathing regularly. He carefully takes Damian’s head out from the nest he’s made of Jason’s shirt. “Hey, I want you to listen to me. It is NOT your fault. I promise.” Jason isn’t amazing with words, but he is honest. Honesty usually works better than pretty words anyways.
Jason wants to be able to see his brother’s face, he wants to properly wipe away his tears and see his smile. “Okay? Can you understand that, It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s those kidnappers, or Bruce, or hell anyone else, but not yours. Never yours.” Damian sniffles, Jason can hear him nodding, he hates that he can’t see it.
~._.~-*-~._.~
Cassandra Cain feels like a storm is wreaking havoc inside her head. She is walking with Bruce on the way to his office. She said that they need to talk. She doesn’t know what to do. Bruce is a walking contradiction and she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it one bit. She likes Damian, she loves him like a little brother. She loves her siblings, she loves all of them, but Damian is something different, he reminds her of herself. She has always wanted to help him feel safe, and she realized pretty early that feeling safe in the manor would be very difficult for Damian, more difficult than it had been for her at the beginning. She couldn’t figure out why until she met Cardinal.
Cardinal never reminded her of herself, Cardinal reminded her of Bruce. They both love fiercely, and will do almost everything it takes to protect what they care about, they only go about it in very different ways. At first, Cass thought that Cardinal was very wrong in his approach and that Bruce was the obvious right choice, she isn’t so sure anymore. Right now, she feels like they’re both wrong, but she would still rather stand by Cardinal’s side. She doesn’t really know how to feel about that.
A certain conversation won’t get out of her head, it’s spinning around in the storm that has taken root inside her skull. She had been sitting with Damian on the patio and Cardinal had helped them fight the League’s assassins only days before. She said: “He told half-truth when he said that he would try not to kill. Cardinal will kill people, but he would stop if you wanted him to.” She still believes this to be true, Cardinal would do almost anything if Damian is the one to ask. Damian asked her: “What will you do about it?” She thinks about a similar question right now, what will she do about Bruce.
Back then, she responded with: “He is not a bad person, but he kills people. A lot of people in the Justice League have killed people, I have killed people. I don’t know.” She still doesn’t know. Back then, she had come to a conclusion. “If I think he is being stupid, I will stop him. You love him, and he loves you. Tell him to not be stupid.” She doesn’t think that Cardinal has been stupid since then. Bruce has been, though. Perhaps she has to stop him. Perhaps that is her duty, to stop stupid people.
They are in Bruce’s office, he closes the door behind them. “What did you need to talk about?” His cowl is still on but Cass can read him anyway. She can see the self-hatred and despair that lingers in every crease of fabric, in every minimal movement of his mouth, in the set of his shoulders. She can also see the anger that’s consuming him, the anger at the world, at Cardinal, at Damian and at herself. “You are not a killer. Why did you try to kill Cardinal?” She isn’t in costume, she tilts her head and looks into his eyes. She lets him see her confusion. “He killed Damian. He killed my son.” Cassandra fights the urge to exhale heavily.
“You know that he saved Damian. He would not be alive otherwise.” He tenses, he appears to be angrier than before. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see—he is—he’s wearing Jason’s face!” Cassandra frowns, she is aware of Jason Todd, though she doesn’t know much about him. “Is that why you tried to kill him? Because he looked like Jason?” He pretty much snarls, she can see the frustration and helplessness that spreads through his body like an explosion. “He doesn't just look like Jason. It’s his face! And Damian knows him. He called him Jay!” She notes the way he avoided the first question.
“Why did you attack him?” She needs more context before she can make up her mind. There’s so much regret, shame and anger in Bruce’s every movement—in his very essence—that it’s impossible to miss. “Because he brutally killed five people with magic swords, and then stabbed them through my son!” He is very agitated, he is also very, very sad. “Did you know what he looked like before or after you started beating him?” He looks terrified. “That is irrelevant.” Cassandra doesn’t think it is. “Answer the question, please.” She can hear his breathing pattern change, he is trying to stay calm. “After.” She hums in response.
“How am I supposed to trust anyone when my own son has been keeping this big of a secret from me? I need to know if he’s the real Jason. Damian needs to tell me everything. I deserve to know.” Damian looked absolutely terrified when Bruce told him that they needed to talk, Cassandra feels like that is reason enough. “Family shouldn’t have to be scared of each other.” He looks surprised. “What are you trying to say?” She looks him in the eye, where she knows his eyes are, even though she can’t properly see them. “Damian is scared of you. That is why he doesn’t talk with you, and why he didn’t ask for help earlier.” Tim had messaged her some details about Damian’s kidnapping when she was still on the plane; she knows that he could have gotten free or pressed his emergency button if he really wanted to.
Before Bruce has the chance to reply, or Cass has the chance to intervene, a beautiful woman appears behind him and grabs the back of his head. Bruce falls to the floor, unconscious but breathing. “Who are you, and what did you do?” Cass is in a fighting stance, this woman is dangerous, she is floating, a magic user. “My name is Essence, anything else is irrelevant. I only put him to sleep. He will wake up in a week.” She didn’t tell the whole truth. “What kind of sleep, tell the truth.” Essence looks impressed. “He will be experiencing his worst memories on loop until he wakes up. A lesser punishment than I would have liked, but the worst thing that Jason will accept, probably, I never really asked him.” That’s the truth, all of it. Cardinal knows this woman, that makes sense, Cass figured out that Cardinal uses some kind of magic months ago. This woman might be his teacher.
“What do you want?” Essence doesn’t smile, her face is cold, Cassandra can feel that she is entertained. “I want Jason’s help. I will take him and the kid with me. Jason will not agree to leave his brother.” Cassandra doesn’t have the time to open her mouth before Essence speaks again. “Do not worry, they should be safe. I plan to make sure that the both of them return in better condition than they left.” Truth, all of it is the truth. Cassandra notes the words she chose, they should, and I plan. “Where? How long?” Essence’s mouth twitches, she is amused, she is scared, she is impatient. “Home. Unsure. That will be all.” She disappears just as suddenly as she appeared.
When Cass makes her way down to the cave, Cardinal and Damian are both missing. It’s as if they were never even there. She isn’t looking forward to explaining why Bruce is unconscious on the floor, or why Damian and Cardinal are missing. She hopes that Damian can get a shower wherever it is that Essence has taken them. She hopes that the two of them will safely return. She isn’t very angry at Essence for what she did to Bruce.