Chapter Text
Tim hadn’t meant to resurrect Robin.
Or it’s best to say, he didn’t think it would work.
All his life his mother had warned him about what he could do, or perhaps what he shouldn’t do.
He shouldn’t look at the ghost or acknowledge them, he shouldn’t listen to what they say (or scream), and he most certainly shouldn’t reanimate the body of the dead Robin because he’s sad that he’s dead.
But well,
His mother isn’t in Gotham.
And he was a bit curious.
And really, what’s the worst that could happen?
As Tim peered down at the grave stone, he thought to himself, oh. That’s why they dig the body out first.
He closed his grimoire and dashed forward to help dig out Jason, who was surely panicking from the tight space and limited air currently available to him in his coffin. It would be pretty embarrassing, Tim thought to himself, if the Robin suffocated to his death right when he had been resurrected.
Thankfully, Tim had had enough foresight to bring a shovel.
It was dirty work, but finally Jason Todd was out of his grave, breathing, and wildly looking around, trying to decipher his current situation no doubt.
Thankfully for Tim, it was dark and Jason Todd’s knees buckled under him and he unceremoniously passed out almost immediately, so no need to hide from Robin. Tim was too scrawny and short to catch him properly, he just kind of helped him down gently.
As Tim took a deep breath, he thought about his next task. How to get Jason to Batman.
He could just call from a burner phone. Change his voice so he doesn’t sound like an eleven-year-old who sounded like he was five. It’d be better than facing Batman and try to explain all of this.
Honestly, he hadn’t thought ahead.
Mostly because he hadn’t thought it’d work.
It shouldn’t have worked.
He shouldn’t have had enough life force. He was a mortal after all.
So how come he was still standing?
Resurrection didn’t exactly need equivalent exchange. At least not in the traditional sense of giving a life for another. But it still required enough life force. To say that Tim was stumped was an understatement.
“Oh kid, what have you done.”
He whipped his head back at the voice, heart jumping up to his throat as he saw a man standing above him. Tim didn’t exactly have the best night vision (or day vision) so it took a good few seconds for his sight to focus on the man.
He was a blond scraggly man in his thirties wearing a beige trench coat. But that wasn’t all Tim could see.
“Whoa…” he muttered as his brain registered the aura the man exuded.
“Oh fantastic, it’s a baby.” The man had a very prominent British accent and a very tired face.
“I’m not a baby!’ squeaked Tim, inadvertently showing his young age.
“Ok not-baby, How the bloody hell did you put a soul back into its body?” The man asked, eyeing Jason who was clearly passed out but breathing.
“Well…it wasn’t supposed to be this easy?” Tim’s shoulders hiked up to his ears as he looked between the strange man and Jason.
The man sighed deeply.
“Okay…so who’s the kid? Your brother?” the man asked, kneeling down next to Jason, putting a hand over his body. For a second nothing happened, but a second later the man’s hand lit up, Tim knew enough about magic to know he was checking Jason over and not feel scared for Jason’s safety.
“N…no. He’s my neighbour. Was… is.” Tim stammered. How could he explain to this stranger that Gotham has been in chaos because Jason had died? That Batman was out of control. A non-Gothamite will never understand.
“Hm…strange.” The light disappeared from the man’s hand
“What? Is something wrong with him?” Tim panicked.
“No kid, that’s the strange part…” the man stood up. “Where did you say we were again?” the man asked, looking around him.
“I didn’t sir, we’re in Gotham.” Tim decided to be polite to the strange British man who clearly had powerful magic.
“Well, that explains it.” the man produced a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply.
“It does?” Tim asked, not quite following.
“Yeah kid, well you definitely preformed the spell. But something else provided the rest of the juice.”
“Something else?” Tim frowned.
“Yup, you’re quite lucky kid. If you’d try to pull that crap somewhere else you would have been half way to hell by now.” Tim blanched.
“So…why am I not?” Tim asked, never one to leave his curiosity unquenched.
“Because Gotham really wanted that kid alive.” Was all the man said. Somehow Tim understood. Gotham was really hurting since Robin’s death. Tim could feel it in his bones.
“Who are you?” Tim finally had the courage to ask the man.
“The name’s Constantine. Pleasure to meet you, gremlin. Now how do you feel about telling me how you found that grimoire?”
“Oh, it’s my mom’s.” Tim answered honestly. The man seemed to not believe him for a second, then it seemed like something dawned on him.
“Your last name doesn’t happen to be Kane, does it?”
“That’s my mother’s maiden name.”
“Right. Fuck me.” the man didn’t seem to mind swearing in front of a child.
“And what’s your name kiddo?”
“Tim.” He answered pallidly. The man, Constantine, sighed again, pulling a hand in front of his eyes.
“Okay. Does your mummy know you’re out in the middle of the night reanimating people?”
“No?” Tim answered in a small voice.
“And why is that?”
“Because she’s in Egypt?”
“Bullocks. And she left you to run wild in Gotham?”
“I can take care of myself!” Tim protested.
“I’m more worried for the fabric of reality kid!”
“Oh…I won’t do it again?” This man’s reactions were certainly refreshing for Tim. Normally people would judge his parents for leaving a legally blind 11 year old alone to fend for himself. But Tim could take care of himself just fine! Thank you very much.
“You better. Now what do you want to do with the boy?” Constantine pointed to the unconscious boy.
“Oh, I was thinking to just call his dad.”
“And who would that be?”
“Bruce Wayne?” Tim answered. Since they were in front of Jason’s tombstone, he thought maybe the information wouldn’t hurt.
“Oh, Batsy is going to kill me.”
Jason didn’t know how he was back. He didn’t remember anything after the explosion. Well no, he kind of remembered waking up in his coffin but he’d rather suppress that memory.
But the next thing he remembered was waking up in the manor in his father’s arms as he wept. He remembered seeing John Constantine and Alfred talking above him but his brain couldn’t focus on anything except his dad’s cries.
Later he found out that he didn’t make it out alive. That he was gone for six months.
The official story they gave to the press was that he had been missing in Ethiopia and was found and returned and the body that Mr. Wayne buried was another kid who had died in the same explosion.
The reality was that not even John could properly explain what had happened. Just that some local higher power really didn’t want Jason to stay dead and had spat him out of his grave. John had felt some disturbance and when he had gotten to the graveyard Jason was out of his grave, passed out.
The messed-up part was that Bruce was so grateful to have Jason back that he didn’t even question Constantine properly. All he did was run his normal tests to confirm that yes, this was Jason, not some clone or zombie or what not.
No crazy paranoia, no 100 security questions, no nothing.
When Bruce had stopped crying (which, what the hell) he had called Leslie. The old doctor could hardly believe it either. But he was there alive and as well as he could be when his head had been bashed in a few times.
He didn’t exactly have a clean bill of health. But he was alive. Alive and breathing. Which was certainly an improvement on death.
It was later when he found out what his death had caused. What his father was about to do if he hadn’t returned when he had.
He thought if there was a greater power that wanted him alive, it had to be her.
It had to be Gotham city.
Honestly, John didn’t know what to do with the half-pint.
The kid clearly shouldn’t be left alone. It was a miracle that the kid’s magic hadn’t gotten completely out of control, but leaving it up to luck would be madness.
From what he had understood, the kid’s mother, who should be the one teaching the kid magic, wasn’t exactly around much and from further questions, he found out the woman wasn’t much of a witch either. She had some magic, but hadn’t cultivated it. John could bet that her magic was nowhere near this child’s level.
“Okay kid, here’s what we’re going to do.” John said, getting comfortable on a couch in the kid’s house. He knew the Kane’s were loaded but this was ridiculous.
He looked at the little gremlin, sitting politely in the seat in front of him, with his comically large and thick glasses and innocent face, the boy looked nothing like the deathly aura he exuded. He blinked owlishly at John, clearly past his bed time. This was when he finally noticed the kid’s peculiar eyes.
They were pale blue and seemed to dance around, not really focusing on anything.
“Do you know Batman mister?” the kid asked a little too enthusiastically, not waiting for John to finish the sentence he had started.
“Unfortunately, yes. We’re…co-workers.” John admitted. The kid’s eyes grew even wider.
“Now focus kid. I can’t let you run around in this godforsaken city, doing necromancy and dark magic. How old are you? Eight? Something bloody dangerous is bound to happen like that.”
“I’m eleven!” the kid protested. John didn’t believe it. He wasn’t exactly an expert on children, but he knew eleven-year-olds should not be this tiny.
“Sure you are. Normally I’d seal up your magic and let you off but I doubt that’d work on you. Your essence is soaked in death magic.” It didn’t seem like the information was new to the kid. John reckoned the boy has been able to see ghosts and shrouds since he was an infant. Sealing his magic would be as good as killing him.
"And not to mention, you kind of permanently bonded your soul to the boy you saved, so if I seal your magic, the boy would drop dead." this seemed to shake up the boy as he let out a gasp.
“So, what are you going to do sir?” He asked in a tiny voice.
“Don’t call me sir, it’s John.” John sighed, he really was going to regret doing this.
“I’ll teach ya how to control your magic kid. So no more illegal necromancy, alright? and hopefully, the boy next door gets to live a long and happy life. Because if he dies again randomly, Batman will hunt me down.”
The kid perked up even more.
“Yes please teach me magic!”
“Oh what have I gotten myself into.”