Chapter Text
The sound of the batwing’s engines is a near silent, constant hum. It was specifically designed that way to ensure it stays undetected. With all its other cloaking functions and considering it’s mostly used in the dead of night, it has always been successful in concealing Batman’s presence until he wants it to be known. It was a difficult endeavor to design something fast enough to fulfill Bruce’s expectations and yet also be inconspicuous enough to be usable when quiet approaches are required.
In the past, the faint rumble has proven efficient in doing exactly that. While the plane is nowhere near completely silent, even with its current components, it’s still much quieter than any other comparable vehicle of similar size and speed. It has surprised enough enemies in its many years of usage now that Bruce can gladly say that it was worth the many sleepless nights he and Lucius spent over the schematics and blueprints.
Now, however, for the first time Bruce can remember since his first flight with the batwing, the silence feels like a constricting viper, slowly tightening its grip around his chest with every second that passes by. He curls his hand tighter around the steering wheel to distract himself from the silence, his eyes slipping back to the GPS display. They still have another hour of flight ahead of them before they finally reach the destination Talia was so kind to offer him upon their departure. Coordinates, nothing more and nothing less. She kept silent about where exactly they’re heading.
Bruce chances a glance at the co-pilot seat next to him. Talia is silent as she watches the clouds pass them by through the windshield, her smooth features betraying no hints of emotion. He can see the small crinkle in the corners of her eyes, though, that speaks more than any words she’d willingly relinquish ever could. Because as much as he wants her to reveal what she knows finally, it’s one of the reasons why they fit together so well in the beginning. Why he thought they could be more. But in time he realized that her silence isn’t settled in trust between each other but in mistrust.
“Staring doesn’t become you, Beloved.” She pulls her gaze away from the window and meets his. “Speak your mind or don’t, but your brooding is, as always, stifling.”
“Hn.” There’s a low rumble in Bruce’s chest as he pulls his eyes away and back ahead. “You know what I want from you.”
“There are many things I can imagine you could want in this moment. As do I, but I think we both know it’s not always as easy as simply wanting something.”
“So I have to beg for answers?”
Talia chuckles lowly, but Bruce can hear no real mirth in it. “If only it were that easy.”
Bruce tightens his grip again, leather straining against leather. He thinks of Jason, lying in a bed in the cave, looking like death is only waiting for one false move to claim him again. He’d like it to be as easy as begging, and imagines it could be, if only he’d be able to understand the answers he’ll receive. But the white-haired woman’s words echo in his head again. The Chambers of All, the nagual, magic and superstitious things. Things Bruce doesn’t understand. Things he never wanted near any member of his family, and this situation is exactly why.
He might have the fastest and quietest plane on earth and equipment beyond most people’s belief, but in the end he’s just a man, trying to keep his son from dying again.
Before he can fall down the rabbit hole these thoughts will inevitably lead him to, he focuses on something he actually can do. And right now, the only thing he can do is try to understand, despite all the confusion.
He takes a breath and relaxes his grip. “Alright, I’ll beg.”
Next to him, Talia stiffens almost imperceptibly.
“Please, Talia, what happened really back then.”
She’s silent for a long while, but by the way she stalls, hands curled into fists in her lap, he knows he doesn’t have to elaborate. She knows exactly what he’s talking about, like she always does.
“My men brought him to me,” she finally starts. Her voice is hushed. “He wasn’t well, I didn’t lie about that. But the pit did work.” Bruce figured as much but refrains from voicing it. Now that she’s finally talking after almost two hours of complete silence he doesn’t dare interrupt her. “There was no nagual back then. It was just Jason and his anger. And he was very angry, for a long time, when he heard what you did. Or rather, what you didn’t do,” she shoots him a look then, one full of disdain and hate. Her words are venomous when she continues next. “When he heard you let his murderer run free.”
And Bruce can’t hold it back anymore. Not when she tells lies to his face, as if he wasn’t present back then. “That’s not true.” His growl rattles in his chest. She wasn’t there. She doesn’t know what it was like to leave the scum that killed his son alive. How much it tore Bruce apart to listen to Clark. Because while his friend had been right, it still felt wrong, somehow. It always has, ever since. Every single time.
“Yes it is, Bruce, no matter what you tell yourself.” And because she knows him too well, she continues before he can even think of disrupting her again. “But he didn’t give in to his anger. He learned to let go of it and continued on his own path.”
Bruce takes a deep breath, knowing that she’s right and he can’t let his anger take him over, not now. “In the Chambers of All, I’m assuming.”
Talia nods. “The Acres of All, to be precise. It was home to a group called the All Caste.”
“Was?”
Her tone grows hard, cold almost. “They were killed about a year ago.”
“The whole group?” Bruce asks, keeping his mind occupied with the task of gathering information about the place they’re heading to, instead of wondering what that must’ve meant for Jason. If he dares follow that train of thought, he doesn’t know if he can shift his focus back again.
“All but Essence, S’aru and Jason.”
“Do I need to be worried about whoever killed this caste going after Jason now too?”
Talia clucks her tongue next to him, crossing her legs. “Do you truly believe I would allow that?”
“Yes,” Bruce says without hesitation. He knows the League well enough to give her a clear answer. And he remembers what Essence said, back on that rooftop when Bruce still had to wrap his head around the fact that Jason is alive. “You allowed the nagual to roam Gotham’s streets, after all, without telling me, never mind Jason himself, apparently.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath next to him and he sees Talia’s nails dig into her arms where she’s crossed them. He doesn’t feel any satisfaction in making her hurt, but he remembers Jason’s betrayed words after Essence revealed Talia’s lie to him. Back then Bruce didn’t understand what it was all about. He still doesn’t, not really, but he knows what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you think you can trust. She’d done it more than once to him now and to this day, a part of him hurts anew every single time, instead of expecting it.
And maybe Bruce is just glad that he’s not the only one who let Jason down in all of this, petty as it may be.
“It was for his own safety,” Talia finally continues with a thin voice. “Either way, they’re no danger to Jason anymore.” One less thing to worry about, Bruce supposes, though her vague answer still leaves him uncertain.
“His own safety?” He retorts, thinking of Jason’s hurt confusion when he learned of Talia’s lies. Before Bruce himself even understood their severity. “Or your own conscience.”
Talia huffs, anger burning in her eyes, defense lingering on her tongue. But she turns away instead of explaining herself. Much more comfortable in silent isolation than sharing burdens.
There are no more words exchanged after that. Silence settles back over the cockpit and Bruce keeps his eyes strictly switching between his consoles and the window. Even when he feels Talia’s eyes flit to him, he ignores her scorn. His words must’ve hit her deeper than he intended, which is a surprise. Someone like Talia rarely let’s an accusation like that hit her, never mind show such an open reaction to it. He can count the number of times that she did so in his presence on one hand. She only ever did it when she knew that he’s right, which means she does blame herself for the nagual, at least to some extent. He doesn’t know if he should be glad to have gotten her to open up this much or upset to be right.
The rest of their flight passes like the blurry world outside the windows. As they get closer to their destination, somewhere in the wilderness of Nepal, the Himalayas coming into view, Bruce opens a call to the batcave.
After only a few seconds, he hears Dick’s voice from the other end. “Did you find something?”
“Not yet,” Bruce says, listening for any sign in Dick’s voice that could mean bad news on his end. But his eldest is as calm as he’s been ever since he brought an unconscious Jason back to the cave. Which is to say he’s angry, nervous, scared and many other things Bruce couldn’t keep track of, but no change is better than bad change.
“We’re entering the Himalaya mountain ranges. Everything alright on your end?” He asks anyway, because he needs a confirmation. If he’s reading the coordinates correctly, then they’ll be flying directly into the mountain soon, somehow, which means his instruments will most likely not be functioning normally. Bad reception and magic are something not even he’s been able to work around yet.
“The Himalaya?” Dick repeats with an absent tone. There’s a pause on the line, before Dick speaks again, voice harder. “I mean yeah, everything’s as fine as it can be. Jay’s still unconscious but hasn’t gotten any worse, for now. Tim woke up a few times too and Damian is still brooding.”
“I am not brooding, Grayson!” Bruce hears Damian grumble faintly through the comm. The rest of the conversation is too faint to be picked up by the comm. But he’s glad to hear that at least nothing has happened since his departure.
“Good. And our guest?”
“Sitting in her chair—eyes on Jason. Literally. Doesn’t look like she’s moved a single muscle since she sat down. But Cass and Steph—inutes ago. We’ll be—on’t wor— You conc—thing t—lp him.”
“Dick—” Bruce starts, but then the connection fully cuts off.
They’ve entered the mountain ranges, the high peaks reaching up into the sky. Slowly, he starts to maneuver the plane into a descend, activating its cloaking.
“How are they?” Talia suddenly says and he throws her a side-glance. Her eyes are still trained on the mountains around them, never once meeting his, but there’s that heaviness that pulls at her shoulders again. The one he’s seen back in the cave when she was watching Damian and Jason through the med bay’s video feed.
“They’re alright,” he answers curtly.
“Good,” she says, tone steely again and unbuckles herself, “because we’re here.”
Bruce checks his GPS again and sure enough, they’re exactly on top of the coordinates she gave him. When he looks outside, he can see nothing but trees and a rocky wall right next to them. He adjusts the plane’s propulsions, pulling it to a full stop. “There are only trees and mountains here,” he says as he follows Talia out of the cockpit area. She stops next to the door and turns to him.
“We need two parachutes.”
“What for.”
Wordlessly she pulls at the lever to open the door. It slides open easily. A blast of cold air rushes into the plane. There’s a short sputter from the engines as they stabilize the plane again and Bruce holds on to the handles to keep his balance.
Talia points at the rocky mountainside opposite them. “That’s where we need to go.”
Bruce stares at it for another moment. Wonders what will wait for them on the other side of this, as he ponders Talia’s words. He feels her gaze on him, knows that her mouth is upturned into one of her sardonic smiles without having to look. With a grunt he turns to the storage compartment holding the parachutes and takes one for each of them.
Once they’re ready for the jump, Bruce turns to Talia expectantly, stepping away from the door and holding a hand out towards the mountain. “After you.”
She scoffs but steps up next to him without a moment’s hesitation. “What a gentleman,” she remarks before jumping out into the biting cold air. Her parachute opens as soon as she’s out of the plane’s range and she steers straight towards the rocky wall of the mountain. Bruce would be concerned about the path she’s taking if he didn’t know her as well as he does. There’s more to this mountain than he can see, and it stinks of magic. When Talia disappears through the rocky wall as if it doesn’t even exist, the corners of his mouth fall into a displeased frown.
With a huff, he jumps out of the plane. He steers himself towards the rocks once his parachute is opened, his heart starting to hammer in his chest as the rocky surface comes closer at alarming speeds. Just when he waits for the pain of the impact, he passes through the stone with a shudder running over his skin. The sensation sends a rush of vertigo through him, nausea rolling in his gut for the briefest moment. As quickly as the sensation came, it recedes again. When he opens his eyes, he’s not outside anymore. Or he is, just not where he was a second ago. There’s a cavern beyond the mountain’s walls, except it has no ceiling, a bright blue sky taking its place. There are buildings hewn in the stone, a whole village, by the looks of it. Tall structures rise into the open sky, birds chirping in trees that grow in the cavern’s rocky walls. The rush of strong currents alerts him to rivers cutting their way through the stone. Numerous waterfalls carry the water into the deep ravines of the cavern. It’s almost like... there’s an entirely new dimension inside the mountain.
Bruce bites the inside of his cheek, taking in the strange surroundings warily. He spots Talia a few steps further into the cave, waiting with a curious look.
“Better stay close,” she says once he catches up with her. “This place can be quite confusing.”
“This place shouldn’t even exist.” The ravines seem to go even deeper than the sky above, black nothingness swallowing the waterfalls below the stone bridge Talia leads him over.
She merely chuckles in response as she practically saunters over towards one of the taller structures. Still, her gaze flits over the empty buildings with much the same unease Bruce feels brewing in his chest. Something about this place feels wrong. Aside from the separate-dimension-inside-a-mountain-situation. Bruce doesn’t believe in ghosts, even though his sadly rather frequent encounters with supernatural and magical creatures beg to differ. If he were to start believing in ghosts as well though, he can say goodbye to the little bit of sleep he still gets each night. So long as no ghost starts appearing in front of him, he clings to the bliss provided by his ignorance. Still, he can’t deny the fact that something about this place feels wrong. He can feel the shiver of eyes on him even when he’s certain that there’s nobody hiding in the shadows.
“Bruce.”
He turns back to Talia, the heat sensor in his mask deactivating after he finishes his scan of their surroundings. When he follows her along one of the multitude of paths through the streets of what must have been some kind of settlement not too long ago, going off of the remaining signs of life, he recalls what Talia told him on their way here.
“This is where Jason lived after...” He can’t bring himself to acknowledge all that laid between Jason’s departure and return to Gotham. There’s still too much he doesn’t know. Things he can’t even begin to understand without all the information. Things he maybe doesn’t even want to know, considering where Talia found him.
And where he didn’t.
“Yes,” she leads him deeper into the cavern. Past small founts filled with clear blue water and havens of lush greenery that shouldn’t even be able to grow in a place like this. “Together with the All Caste. They trained him for many years. Helped him heal, gave him a home.”
Bruce bites his tongue and tries to focus on the path ahead of them instead of Talia’s words. A steep set of stairs at the end of their path leads them higher into the winding corridors of the caverns. Despite the surreal feeling that shrouds this place, there’s tranquility in its soft breeze and the water’s constant rush. He can see why it would have a calming effect on people and may have helped Jason with his recovery. Bruce highly doubts that effect to be of an entirely natural source, however. Essence described it as a place between dream and reality. He should have been prepared for this, then. He tries futilely to loosen the tension in his shoulders at that realization. Knowing and seeing are two very different things, he discovers once again.
The corridor narrows, the deafening rush of a waterfall preventing any attempt at conversation either of them might have had. Rounding the next corner, the right side of the wall falls away to reveal the raging currents of the waterfall. Only a short distance away from the rushing water is a tall archway, leading into a spacious chamber.
“Beyond this lies the Chambers of All,” Talia tells him quietly as they step through the archway and Bruce recalls Essence’s words about the Chamber and its apparent protector. Immediately, his eyes are pulled to a figure beyond the archway, sitting in a mountain of soft, colorful fabrics and cushions and half hidden in a continuous puff of blue smoke.
“You’ve finally arrived,” the figure says and it’s only once they step up closer to them that the smoke parts enough for Bruce to catch his first glance of who he surmises must be S’aru, the gatekeeper of the Chambers of All. The figure of a boy is revealed, lounging in big blue cushions and adorned with little more than some turquoise, ornamental jewelry, simple cloth pants and a golden, metallic belt beset with a turquoise gemstone.
“Essence sent us—” Talia starts, but S’aru cuts her off before she can say more.
“And who do you think sent Essence to you?” He lifts a brow before taking a quick puff. “Would be nice if you could take care of that nuisance of a memory from your deary Jason Todd,” S’aru says nonchalantly, seemingly more interested in the plumes of smoke billowing from one of his many shishas than the supposed problem at hand. Essence made it sound as if Jason’s memory is a serious threat to this place. Looking at this boy’s indifference, Bruce can’t help but question her urgency.
Bruce isn’t here because of this boy’s worry over these caverns, however. “Jason is dying. We’re looking for a way to help him. Do you know of anything we can— “
“That whole nagual business, is it?” S’aru gestures lazily at nothing in particular.
Clenching his fists to keep from lashing out at the boy’s attitude, Bruce grunts an affirmative.
“Well, he shouldn’t even be alive if his nagual is dead. The fact that he is probably means that their connection was already very weak by the time it died.”
“If their connection was so weak, then why is he still dying now?” Talia challenges, stepping in front of Bruce. She must have noticed his agitation.
S’aru regards them for a moment. “Have you considered that maybe he doesn’t want to be here?”
Something clenches in Bruce’s chest at that, unwilling to even consider that possibility. Rationality keeps him from voicing his incredulity, because he has considered it too. When he watched Jason sleep in his bed and the medical examination revealed that there was no physical explanation to cause his unconsciousness. He simply laid there as if asleep and unwilling to return to them. Right in a moment of despair and helplessness, Bruce indulged the idea that maybe Jason simply doesn’t want to be here. With them, in Gotham, after all that happened. Or that maybe it isn’t just the city and the manor. Maybe he doesn’t want to—
“Is that all you’re going to offer us?” Talia’s voice pulls Bruce from his spiraling thoughts. All he can see is her squared back and tilted head, but he knows that tone. He can easily envision the heat in her eyes as they pin S’aru down. “We don’t have time for assumptions. Either you give us more than baseless claims or you can take care of your problem on your own.”
Ringing laughter is her only answer for a long moment. The necklace and other jewelry jingles when he throws his head back in his amusement. When he calms down again, he settles back into his cushions with a sigh, eyeing them languidly.
“It’s a good one, his memory,” S’aru finally says with a lazy wave of his arm. “Cozy and homey. Might just be enough to convince him to live, don’t you think?” He fixes them with a sharp look. Bruce feels a shiver run over his skin, the discomfort almost making him shift. There’s something old, something otherworldly looking back from the boy’s eyes in that moment. Something that finally convinces Bruce that whatever S’aru is, it’s not human, though he might look and act like one.
“Where’s his memory now,” Bruce asks. He has no choice but to take S'aru at his word, which is exactly what he doesn't want to have to rely on to be the key to save Jason. The word of an otherworldly being, talking about magic and things he can’t verify. But he has no choice and no time to do anything but. If it works as simple as it sounds, then yes, maybe he can get behind the idea of reminding Jason that there are things that are worth living for.
S'aru lifts one of his thin arms, pointing a long, gangly finger at the small wooden door at the other side of the chamber. It looks unassuming, but there’s something about it that makes dread rise in Bruce’s chest. More magic, he assumes.
“Fine,” he grunts and turns back to S’aru. “You need our memories too then, I take it.”
“Got a smart cookie in the bunch, eh?” The boy grins impishly before holding out his hand towards Bruce and Talia. He’s about to ask if they’re supposed to think of the memory or something, when a blue light starts to gather around them both. Warmth spreads over Bruce’s body, engulfing him as if in a hug. Then, there’s a sharp tug in his head, a pain so fast he barely notices it was there. A sudden rush of cold and the blue light disappears, gathering into two small, glowing orbs in S’aru’s hand.
Next to him, Talia steadies her stance after the short moment of vertigo as well, a soft gasp escaping her. She looks back to Bruce, a silent question in her gaze that he answers with a downturn of his lips. Whatever S’aru just did to them, he can’t tell if he truly simply took their most precious memory. He doesn’t feel any different from before. It doesn’t seem like he’s missing any of his what he considers to be very important memories. Though, he supposes, if the memory is gone, he wouldn’t know what it was in the first place.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get them back the moment you return.”
Bruce doesn’t feel as reassured by the knowledge as he probably should. There’s no way to verify the truth behind S’aru’s words. As he watches the boy handle the blue orbs containing their memories, a question pops into his head. “You can’t just summon Jason’s memory like you did ours just now?”
S’aru’s brows rise high onto his forehead as he regards Bruce. “You don’t think I would, if it were that easy?” He steadies his head onto his free hand with a sigh. “His memory is... different. It’s almost as if it has a will of its own. I couldn’t contain it any longer, but Jason ignored mine and Essence’s call, so I did the only option I had left.” His eyes trail over to the wooden door. “I released it into the Chambers of All.”
Talia hums in understanding. “And that’s where it gained a life of its own.”
S’aru nods. “Which should be impossible. I can only guess that it must be connected to the nagual. Never had a memory from a partnered individual.”
“Partnered?” Bruce echoes.
“A human bound to a spiritual being,” S’aru explains. He leans back in his cushions, waving his hand in the direction of the wooden door. “Now, don’t you have a memory to find?”
Bruce chances a short glance at Talia, who seems just as delighted by S’aru’s hospitality as he is. He grits his teeth and reminds himself of Jason back home, dead to the world and slowly fading, minute by minute.
“Let’s go then,” he says, meeting Talia’s gaze again and finding the same resolution in them that he feels. For once they’re both on the same page about one of his children.
Just when they reach the door, Bruce already pulling it open, S’aru’s voice stops them one last time. “You should be careful. The memory might have stopped its rampage for now, but who knows. With some outside influence, it might be inspired to run wild again.” The boy is fully engrossed in the blue spheres in his hand, evidently uninterested in their presence already aside from his words of warning.
“Any more tips on finding Jason’s memory?” Talia calls back to him when the silence carries on for too long.
They only receive a short glance, as if pulling his attention away from their memories is an egregious effort for him. “You can’t miss it. Just don’t get lost on the way is my advice.”
Talia huffs beside him, annoyance flaring in her eyes, before she steps through the wooden door. When Bruce follows her over the threshold, he feels another rush of vertigo. At the click of the door behind them falling shut, he rights himself again and takes in the Chambers of All.
His first impression, once again, quickly reaffirms his decision to shun magic and the supernatural. He can’t say for sure where up or down is. The walls of the place they find themselves in shift into the floor of what seem to be other entrances. Winding stairs, some on their sides, some upside down, some the right way up, lead from one seemingly floating platform to another. The sky up above expands throughout the whole space. He can see mountains and hills somewhere on the horizon where there should be none and the blue of a sunlit sky below, mixed between rivers and woods that seem to originate out of thin air.
The sight alone is already headache inducing. Even worse are the places that he can recognize in-between everything, even from afar. Places that he doesn’t want to recognize and knows shouldn’t be here. Off in the distance he can see the ruins of the Amusement Mile in Gotham. Alleys from all over the city peak out between trees or behind half-opened doors. There are glimpses of Nanda Parbat throughout the other landscapes, other buildings and mountains sprinkled in between all the other sights he can’t quite place.
“This is...” he starts, unsure how he meant to finish in the first place. His voice doesn’t carry the way he expects it to in this vast space.
“A lot,” Talia decides to continue. She huffs a sigh next to him before taking her first steps down the set of stairs in front of them. “Let’s hurry. Every minute we waste is one Jason loses.”
“Hn.” He falls into step, following her lead and letting his eyes trace the familiar structures he makes out. Hopefully finding Jason’s memory won’t be as difficult as Bruce fears when he takes in the vast labyrinth before them.