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Whumptober 2020
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2020-10-01
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2022-03-12
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11/31
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command me to be well

Summary:


11.
Damian swayed on his feet, and Jason darted forward to catch him in a hug. Sweeping the kid off his feet into a bridal carry, he tucked Damian’s head under his chin. “It’s okay, kiddo. You’ve done well, alright?”


Whumptober 2020 with the batboys.

Notes:

title from take me to church by hozier

a lot of these are mini fics that i've been thinking about publishing but never got the motivation to write. in hindsight i feel really bad for not including cass much but i'm not really confident in writing her:( hope fully that will change in the future! i hope u guys enjoy!!

(also if any of u wanna continue any of my ideas pls lmk i would pass away)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: lexcorp!prudence + tim n kon, part I

Summary:

day 1: waking up restrained | shackled | hanging
day 2: “pick who dies” | collars | kidnapped

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Tim sighed, leaning his head against his arms. Blood trickled down from where his wrists were shackled above his head.

“This sucks,” he muttered, letting his head fall back against the wall with a dull thud. “And no, Superboy. If you’re listening, that doesn’t mean you need to come and get me.” Then the door slammed open.

“So you’re the one who’s been making such a ruckus with my investments lately,” a man sneered, shutting the door behind him. He was well groomed, relatively young, and dressed in a charcoal suit, a few buttons at the top popped open. He looked like he could have been on the way to work a 9-5 at with corporate bigwigs. Tim would know.

He was also completely unrecognizable. Which meant that he could potentially be the untraceable boss behind the recent string of drug shipments Tim had been investigating before he had gotten kidnapped down by Coventry. In all honesty, the boss’ use of multiple false identities, stunt doubles of those false identities, and the general number of false ends he had was kind of admirable. Except it was also a huge pain in the ass for Tim and his crime busting ways, so maybe not so admirable.

“My bad,” Tim said. “Although, I have to wonder about your skills in investment and business management if losing a couple shipments is an actual threat to your ventures.”

The man backhanded him. Tim flexed his jaw. The signet ring was probably going to leave a funky looking bruise. “Ouch. That almost hurt.”

“Shut the fuck up,” the man hissed, kicking Tim in the ribs. Tim couldn’t stop himself from making a choked noise as his mostly healed fractures protested angrily at the treatment. “You’re going to pay for trying to mess with my business. You’ll be down here getting beaten by my men everyday until the day I decide to put you out of your misery for this.” He kicked Tim in the ribs again, and Tim moaned as his ribs re-fractured. Goddammit. “And this— who the fuck are you?”

Banging the door open with extreme prejudice, Prudence Wood abruptly shot the man in both knees, rolling her eyes all the while. “Mate, just shut up.”

Tim wheezed. “Goddammit, Pru.”

Notes:

happy mid autumn festival!! happy otsukimi!! happy chuseok + bon om touk + that luang + thadingyut + poya + tet trung thu!! eat some mooncakes for me yall i'm too broke for them

Chapter 2: lexcorp!prudence + tim n kon, part II

Summary:

day 1: waking up restrained | shackled | hanging
day 2: “pick who dies” | collars | kidnapped

Chapter Text

Prudence scrutinized Tim. “Shit, are you injured?”

Tim finished picking his shackles with a click, and then clumsily rose to his feet. “Ugh. Re-fractured my ribs.” Prudence slung his arm over her shoulders, and started leading him out of the room as Tim's would-be torturer continued to scream in pain. “What are you doing here?”

“Business as usual, baby boss,” she said, waving an absent hand at the LexCorp security officers hurrying by. “Marco Bianchi had men sneak in and steal some untested drugs during a dealing with a subsidiary. Boss wants to steal them back with maximum collateral damage. You know how it is.”

“I do know how it is,” Tim said dryly, “but that doesn’t explain why this is the third mission in two months when me and Superboy have run into LexCorp.”

Prudence shrugged. “You know how that is, too.”

Tim eyed Kon as he landed in front of them. “I guess I do.”

“Man, this again?” Kon complained, his pupils shifting blue-white as he stared at Tim’s ribs.

“Do you mean my ribs or your dad?”

Kon carefully transferred Tim from Prudence to himself. “I meant your ribs, but actually I mean Lex Luthor. It’s always going to mean Lex Luthor.”

Prudence rolled her eyes again. “Is it really that farfetched that you dying a dramatic-ass death for all humankind gave him a bit of a reality check?”

Tim and Kon looked at her in unison. Flatly, they replied, “yes.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “Look, if you hate it that much then just go blow up a few of his labs or something. And don’t tell him I suggested that.”

Kon heaved a sigh. “I guess.”

“Anyways, I gotta run. Mercy will creatively and viciously decapitate me if I’m late again.” She wrapped an arm around Tim, offered Kon a nod, and then jogged away, waving. “Call me, sexy!”

“You’re paying for boba next time!” Tim shouted back. As Kon scooped him up for the flight back to Kansas, Tim huffed out a laugh. “Your dad sure is dedicated to his aesthetic. Do you think Pru’s name is the only reason he employed her?”

Kon snorted. “To be honest? Probably. I guess the chance to have three bodyguards named Mercy, Hope, and Prudence was too good to pass up.” He paused. “Is Lex Christian?”

“…I have no idea. I wouldn’t think so?”

Kon shrugged. “Whatever. Did you get the info you were looking for?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tim flicked off the switch that recorded footage from his domino. “Played the guy in charge like a single violin string. He showed up in person, no disguise on, just to yell at me. Didn’t even take his signet ring off.” Tim scoffed. “He didn’t even have his guys disarm me either. Just took my bo staff and locked me up in a literal office plus chains. I can’t believe he blew his entire set of fake ids and stunt doubles just to slap me around for a minute and a half. What an utter idiot.”

Kon snickered. “Good to see your re-fractured ribs aren’t bringing you down. You’re still grounded for two weeks though.”

Tim groaned.

Chapter 3: the joker is killed

Summary:

day 3: manhandled | forced to their knees | held at gunpoint

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“DICK! DICK! HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS?!” Tim shouted, racing down the stairs to the Cave, Jason in hot pursuit. Both of them looked utterly delighted by whatever they had found out.

Dick dropped down from the uneven bars, dusting his hands free of chalk. “What happened?”

“Someone took a hit out on the Joker!” Jason whooped, bouncing around the Cave like it was every single holiday combined into one, which it may as well have been for Jason. “That motherfucker is dead!”

Dick froze. “Holy shit, really?”

Tim nodded excitedly, a wide grin splitting his face apart. “Yeah! We were hanging out when we heard so we went and checked and everything, and someone poisoned his makeup with what looks like a League of Assassins-special formula. There was strychnine. And cyanide. And thallium. So much thallium. I think he should be getting autopsied right about now.”

“This is the best day of my whole entire life,” Jason said seriously, still bouncing around the Cave. “Let’s go grab some of Bruce’s good booze. Wait, no, I want to remember all of today. Let’s ask Alfred to make marinated duck. I haven’t had his duck in years.”

Dick ran a hand through his hair. Wow. If there was one thing the League of Assassins had ever done right besides resurrect Jason and send them Damian, it would be this. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile. “Wow. I can’t believe— just.” He wrapped an arm around Tim. “How are you feeling?”

“This is the best case scenario, honestly,” Tim replied, leaning into Dick’s side, relieved. “The Joker’s dead, none of us did it, and it wasn’t carried out by someone targeting anyone else but him. Probably. I think this counts as a win.”

“It’s a huge win!” Jason crowed, scooping up both Dick and Tim in his arms. “Fuck! Yes! That evil pile of death-worshipping garbage is finally fucking dead! And away from me! And you guys! And Gotham! And not capable of fucking up anyone else ever again!”

Despite his elation, Dick’s smile waned a little. “I’m happy for you, Jaybird,” he said softly, squeezing him and Tim tightly, “I’m—”

Tim and Jason slumped over, unconscious. A dart stuck out of their necks. Dick looked up, panicked.

“Bruce?”

 

 

“—not right, Bruce! They’re your goddamn kids! Just ask them like a normal fucking person, holy shit!”

“What’s going on?” Tim asked quietly, his hand gripping Jason’s wrist tightly. “Why are we in here?”

Jason shook off the lingering drowsiness and sat up, looking around. His ribs ached, and he pulled up his shirt to see red splotches on his ribs where finger-shaped bruises would undoubtedly develop. Something inside him went cold.

“This is a containment cell,” Tim continued on uselessly, staring vacantly at Bruce and Dick as they argued from outside the reinforced room. “We haven’t— why did he—”

Jason clenched his fists. Tim didn’t let go of him.

Jason banged on the glass. “Hey! The fuck is this for?”

Bruce and Dick turned to look at him. Bruce stood up from the Computer, cape swishing behind him. “Jason.”

“What.”

“The Joker has been murdered.”

Jason sneered. “And?”

“Did you do it.”

At that, everyone else burst into noise.

“WHAT?”

“Of course he didn’t!”

“What the fuck?”

“Bruce,” Dick said, dangerously, “are you fucking serious. Tim already said he was with him the entire time.”

Bruce pointedly remained silent.

Jason reared back a moment later, disgusted. “You think I convinced the Replacement to help me kill the Joker?”

Tim and Bruce stared at each other. “This is about Captain Boomerang, isn’t it,” Tim said flatly.

“Tim,” Bruce began, “There’s not denying you are willing to carry out—”

“I DIDN’T!” Tim bellowed, more furious than Jason had ever seen him. “I held myself back, didn’t I? He’d had all the opportunities to do the right thing, and made every single bad choice, and I let him go! Why on earth would I turn around and poison the Joker?”

For a long moment, Bruce didn’t say anything. “You worked with the League of Assassins,” he said, “you and Jason both have had ample opportunity to—”

“That’s it,” Dick snapped, incensed. He looked a single step away from the sort of barely-leashed brutality that was more characteristic of the Red Hood than Nightwing. He tapped his comm sharply. “Oracle, let them out.”

And with that, the cell door unlocked with a series of clicks.

“No.”

“Yes,” Dick hissed viciously, restraint strung into every muscle. “I can’t believe that you’re willing to go so far just to prove a suspicion you have about your kids. That’s—”

From the loudspeaker, Oracle cleared her throat. “Oracle calling to the Cave,” she said coldly. “Robin has obtained the autopsy results, and reports that the poison used in Joker’s death looks to be a signature of Talia al Ghul.”

Jason smiled at Bruce, but there was no humor in it.

“Congrats, Bruce,” Dick said softly, “you’ve just lost yourself all your kids.”

“One final joke on the Bat,” Tim murmured. He tugged on his brothers’ wrists. “Let’s go. We can pick up Damian, too.”

Jason scoffed. “No need. He’ll follow Dick wherever he goes, and you know it.”

Tim dipped his head in acknowledgement, and the three of them left the Cave together, leaving Bruce far, far, behind.

“You know they mean Cassandra too,” Oracle said.

Bruce didn’t say anything.

Notes:

man if i didn't have my notes for my microbio test yesterday i wouldve been turbo fucked lmao

Chapter 4: red hood is a hero, part I

Summary:

day 4: caged | buried alive | collapsed building
day 5: on the run | failed escape | rescue

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Last one,” Hood gasped, shooting out of the crumbling building, a kid in his arms.

“Perimeter secured,” Nightwing reported, swinging down to land beside Batman as he and Robin secured the henchmen that set the charges in a scheme that had ended with a set of viciously broken bones for Black Mask when Batgirl had gotten… enthusiastic in his capture. “The structural crew should be free to do their thing. Is anyone injured?”

“I’ll let the crew know,” Oracle said. “None of us are hurt, but two civilians have been admitted in the hospital, neither for surgery. Just looks like a whole lot of bumps and bruises for everyone.”

Nightwing sighed, relieved. “That’s good to hear. Hey, where’s Red Ho—”

“Hey!” Hood shouted, “anyone see a girl named Fatima? Fifteen years old, black hijab, gray shirt, Middle-Eastern descent?”

The nearby rescue workers looked up, shaking their heads.

“I haven’t seen anyone in a hijab on my way here from Woodside Avenue,” a woman called, “but there should be some tents set up a block down Holden Street.”

“Thanks,” Hood hollered back, before jogging down to where the Bats stood. “Hey, kiddo, we’re gonna track down your sister in no time, ‘kay?” he said, balancing a trembling kid on his hip. The kid nodded into Hood’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Mr. Hood,” he whispered, tucking himself into the Red Hood’s side even further as they approached the Bats.

“Hey, could one of you guys send out a message to the EMT’s that a kid named Nasim’s looking for his older sister?”

“Sure,” Nightwing said easily, raising a hand to his comm, “should I let the cops know too?”

“…No? Absolutely not?” Hood’s helmet almost looked baffled.

Nightwing cocked his head, puzzled. “Why not?”

“Do not be foolish, Nightwing,” Robin said, a hard expression on his face. When Hood shifted the kid on his hip, Robin signed several things in quick succession. Nightwing’s face fell instantly.

“But— they wouldn’t—”

“Not risking it,” Hood said flatly, shutting the conversation down. He looked down at the kid again. “Alright, Nasim. Let’s go on an adventure and find your sister, alright?”

The kid nodded, although all that could be seen of his face was his black hair. "Okay."

Notes:

acab! justice for breonna taylor! black lives matter!

Chapter 5: red hood is a hero, part II

Summary:

day 4: caged | buried alive | collapsed building
day 5: on the run | failed escape | rescue

Notes:

this chapter includes a girl in a hijab touching (platonically, ya nasties) a man she isn't related to. i know that's not really allowed for muslims, but she's based on a friend i had as a non-muslim i can't rlly say much except people can do whatever they want

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Nasim! Nasim!”

The boy squirmed in Jason’s arms, and he set him down obligingly. Taking off, Nasim crashed straight into a frantic teenage girl who could only have been his sister.

“Fatima! Look, look, I got rescued by the Red Hood! I was at home and I was really scared b’cause the door got stuck but Red Hood found me and picked me up and ran super fast down the stairs and got out and helped me look for you!”

“I’m so happy you’re safe,” the girl choked out, her words muffled by the way she was crushing her younger brother against herself. She leaned back, clutching his shoulders. “You’re not hurt?” She glanced over her brother’s head. “No injuries?”

“He’s fine,” Jason said, checking his side to make sure he didn’t get bled on without noticing. “Maybe get him checked out to be sure, but a couple scrapes and bruises should be about the most of it.”

Fatima heaved a huge sigh, relieved. She squeezed her brother one last time, before rising to her feet, sniffling a little. “Thank you so much,” she said earnestly, beaming up at Jason. “I don’t wanna know what could’ve happened if you weren’t there so— thank you.” She swiped a hand over her eyes.

“Of course,” Jason said, “Crime Alley’s my territory, remember? I’m not letting any kids die in the Alley if I can help it, and that includes you and your brother.”

Fatima sniffled again. “I know.” She tipped her chin up. “You’re— well. You’re my hero, sir,” she said, completely unabashed. She didn't even glance at the other Bats. “Not just for this, but also for killing this rapist three years ago when he cornered my mom.”

“He deserved it,” Jason said honestly, ignoring Batman’s glare boring into the back of his head. And hey, just because he was sticking to his dumb no-kill rule didn’t mean that Jason agreed with it.

“He absolutely deserved it,” Fatima agreed. “So. If you ever need a favor, don’t forget about me.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer despite the looks that nearby EMT and rescue workers were shooting him, Jason dropped to a knee and pulled Nasim against him. He cocked his head at Fatima, extending an arm, and she hesitantly dropped down and leaned into Jason as well. “You don’t need to do anything for me to remember you, and you definitely don’t need to do that just ‘cause I saved your brother,” Jason told her, “but I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, for good measure, he ruffled Nasim’s hair. Nasim giggled.

“Thank you for helping me, Mr. Hood,” he said politely. Then he reached up and around Jason’s helmet, and gave him a hug.

After a long moment where Nasim didn’t let go of Jason, Jason patted Fatima on the back and got to his feet, swinging Nasim up and against his hip again. “You got any parents you’re looking for?” Jason asked as Nasim attempted to merge with his armor.

“I called my mom already, she’s on her way back from work,” Fatima said, pulling out her phone. “I was hanging out with some of my friends, though, and I should probably let them know I found Nasim.”

“Sounds good,” Jason said. “Want me to hang around until then? Oh, wait.” He tapped his comm. “Oracle, anything urgent?”

“Nope,” she responded promptly, “go ahead and have fun with your little minions.”

“Thanks. Hood out.” He tapped his comm again, muting it. “So looks like there’s nothing going on. Wanna help me track down all the unsupervised kids?”

“Yeah!” Fatima said eagerly, texting someone. She gave Jason a sideways glance. “Can my friends come help?”

“Of course,” Jason said, heading off without giving the Bats a second glance, “actually, if you know any hookers, they’d probably be willing to help out too if you tell ‘em the Red Hood asked nicely.”

“Awesome! My friends are gonna be so excited! You know, my friend Jingfei told me that her dad worked—"

 

 

“It’s nice to see that Jason’s as good with kids as he used to be, even though he’s killed a ton of people,” Oracle remarked, hitting the end recording button as the Red Hood disappeared from sight, several kids in tow. She opened up the recording on another screen, and pulled up her video editing software. She fast-forwarded to the moment Batman realized that despite being under the Red Hood’s previously brutal reign, the kids there actually trusted him because of it, not in spite of it.

Then she sniggered at Nightwing’s baffled expression. Priceless.

Notes:

cisswapped tim drake's name should be either timothy or fatima so she can still be nicknamed tim, and that's the hill i'll die on

Chapter 6: titans!jason + sleep meds, part I

Summary:

day 6: “get it out” | no more | “stop, please”
day 7: support | carrying | enemy to caretaker
day 8: “don’t say goodbye” | abandoned | isolation

Chapter Text

“Hey, Dick,” Jericho said nervously, poking his head through the doorway. “Can we talk?”

Dick got to his feet, stretching out all the kinks in his back from hunching over his laptop for several hours. “Sure. What’s up?”

The other boy shifted indecisively, which looked a bit strange on Rose’s body. Then he stepped inside the room and closed the door. Dick paused in the act of shutting his laptop. “Did something happen?”

“Um. Not really, but. I’m kinda worried about something, but I’m not really sure if I’m overthinking or if something’s actually happening.”

“Alright,” Dick said slowly, sitting back down. “What is it?”

“It’s. Um.” Jericho looked at the ground. “It’s Jason. I think something’s wrong with him.” He suddenly jerked his head back up, flustered. “Not in a personality way! I mean I think he’s been acting differently in a way that makes me. Um. Concerned about his health.”

“You’re concerned about his health?” Dick repeated, as something heavy grew inside his gut.

Jericho nodded. “Yeah. I noticed he’s been kinda… quiet? And he’s by himself basically all the time? Gar said that he wasn’t like that before. Also, I’ve seen him randomly get dizzy and have to sit down a few times? And this other time his hands started shaking so hard he left the room? I don’t know.”

“That’s— concerning.” Dick frowned. While he had noticed Jason’s new predilection for keeping to himself, he figured it was just him working back up to hanging out with everyone. But the dizziness and tremors were very new, and very concerning.

He got up and patted Jericho on the shoulder. “Thanks for telling me this, I’ll see if I can figure out what’s going on. Maybe get a checkup done in the medbay.”

Jericho pursed his lips. “…Alright.”

Chapter 7: titans!jason + sleep meds, part II

Summary:

day 6: “get it out” | no more | “stop, please”
day 7: support | carrying | enemy to caretaker
day 8: “don’t say goodbye” | abandoned | isolation

Chapter Text

“—and she doesn’t even grade our tests on time! She should look at herself before trying to call me lazy!” Gar whined, absentmindedly stirring his caramelizing onions.

“Teachers are always like that,” Rachel said, looking up from her book. “It would probably be hilarious if it wasn’t so annoying.”

“College is way better,” Rose interjected. “Profs literally do not give a single shit. All you gotta do is show up to class, turn in work, not fail exams, and boom. Grade. Absolutely zero talking necessary.”

“What about group projects?” Rachel asked, inching a bookmark into her book.

“Well, I mean. You don’t have to talk to the professor. Just the group members, who are usually fine unless you get someone shitty, but that happens everywhere.” Rose perked up, nudging Jason with her elbow. “Hey, isn’t it college app season? Shouldn’t you be applying places now?”

Jason shrugged. “I guess.”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Are you… not applying?”

“I dunno.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “C’mon, you can’t be doing this hero thing 24/7. Go to school! Join the drama club! If Rachel and Gar can go to school almost 40 hours a week, you can take a few classes.”

“Rose is right,” Dick said, “you should think about what you want to do in the future. Being a superhero isn’t a full-time thing, and it really shouldn’t be.”

“Aww, man,” Gar complained. “It’s not?”

“Of course it isn’t! No one superheroes full-time! Superman doesn’t even superhero full time!”

“Superman has a job?”

“Why wouldn’t Superman have a—”

"Something's wrong," Rachel said, and everyone turned to stare at her. Everyone but Jason.

Rose leaned forward, and snapped her fingers in front of Jason’s blank face. “Hey. Jason.”

Dick got on his feet apprehensively, and Gar turned off the burners with a frown, hurriedly setting his spatula aside. “Jason? You good?”

Jason didn't respond.

“Something’s wrong,” Rachel repeated, and a moment later Jason dropped to the ground with a thud, and started seizing.

Chapter 8: titans!jason + sleep meds, part III

Summary:

day 6: “get it out” | no more | “stop, please”
day 7: support | carrying | enemy to caretaker
day 8: “don’t say goodbye” | abandoned | isolation

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Fuck!” Dick shot forward, inadvertently shoving Rachel out of the way in the process. Somehow, he managed to remember his training and turned Jason on his side as his limbs jerked erratically, his eyes wide and vacant.

“Gar, your jacket,” Dick said urgently, glancing between the time displayed on the microwave and Jason’s face. Gar clumsily yanked off his jacket and pushed it into Dick’s hands, looking on helplessly as Dick firmly lifted Jason’s head and set the jacket underneath it.

A full minute passed by, and Jason continued to convulse, mouth gaping as he wheezed. It was awful. Dick could barely bring himself to blink.

“Is there something we should do?” Gar asked anxiously, hands raised like he wanted to reach out and help but wasn’t quite sure how.

“No,” Dick said distantly. All his attention was narrowed down to Jason and his unseeing, wide-eyed gaze. “All we can do now is wait it out.” He paused. “Actually, yes. Go tell Kori, and help her prep the medbay.”

“Got it.” Gar sprinted out of the room, the sound of his footsteps shifting to a set of heavy four-legged thumps.

“Does Jason have epilepsy?” Rose asked, uncharacteristically nervous. She kneeled down next to Jason, her expression drawn and pale.

Dick shook his head. They fell into silence, the only sound being Jason’s frantic gasps as he struggled to breathe.

Another minute later, Jason slowly relaxed, tension no longer strung into every muscle. His eyelashes fluttered for a moment, and then he passed out.

Dick exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping in relief. He ran a hand through his hair. “God. That was…” Probably one of the worst things he’s seen in a while.

He shook his head, wordless. Worming his arms under Jason’s slack body, he got to his feet, shifting Jason so his head was tipped against his chest.

As he headed over to the medbay, the girls in tow, he couldn’t help but think of Jason’s blank stare as accusatory.

 

 

Gar looked down at the results of Jason’s blood work. “Uh.”

Dick looked up so quickly Gar wouldn’t have been surprised to hear an audible crack. “What is it?”

Gar looked between the new results and Jason’s baseline results again, hoping that he was seeing things wrong. But alas, he was not.

“It looks like he’s got a lot of… pharmaceuticals. In his blood. We can run a drug panel after this if you want.”

Dick’s face grew tight with rage, but a tiny noise behind him made him whip around.

“Jason?”

“…mmph.” Jason shifted a little, trapped by the sheets of the cot Dick had carefully tucked him into. He blinked sluggishly. “Dick?”

Gar could see Dick make a visible effort not to be tactless. “You feeling ok, man?” Gar called, setting down the screenings and dragging a chair over to Jason’s bedside.

“…hm.” Jason smacked his lips, looking vaguely at them with heavy-lidded eyes. “M’ okay.”

Dick took a deep breath. “What happened, Jason?” He asked gently, absently smoothing down Jason’s newly-rumpled sheets.

Jason’s brow furrowed. “I… I dunno. I was… in the kitch’n?”

“You had a seizure,” Dick said in that same gentle voice, and Gar kind of envied the way he had gotten his anger under control that fast. “Do you know why?”

Jason hummed a little sigh, shifting his sheets again. “Pro’bly the… the sleepin’ pills.”

Dick’s hand twitched from where it had been tucking in Jason's sheets again. “You’re taking sleeping pills?”

“Mmhm.” Jason made a contented noise when Dick’s hand brushed against his hair. Dick scooted his chair closer to the bed, and carefully stroked Jason’s hair. Jason made another pleased noise, and then fell silent.

“Why are you taking them?” Dick prompted.

“It’s… hard. To sleep.” Jason frowned faintly. “I dun’.. I don’t like my dreams. They’re all… bad. ‘Nd then I wake up ‘nd can’t sleep anymore. ‘M tired all the time.”

Dick’s hand continued to pet Jason’s hair, but Gar could see it tremble minutely. “And what are your bad dreams about?”

Jason frowned more deeply. “I’m… falling. I fall a lot.” He blinked up at Dick. “Can I stop falling soon?”

Dick’s face crumpled, but he managed to smooth it out in less than a second. “Of course, Jason,” he choked out, “of course you’re not falling.”

Jason sighed, completely at peace. “M’kay. Thank you, Dick.”

Moments later, his breathing deepened, and he slipped back to sleep. Dick slowly pulled his hand away and just looked at Jason, something indecipherable crossing his face. Gar watched him apprehensively, and wasn’t proven wrong when Dick fisted his hands and punched his thigh.

"Fucking fuck," Dick snarled under his breath, "if Jason's been taking benzos to sleep this entire fucking time I'm never gonna forgive myself.”

Gar closed his eyes. “Make that the two of us,” he said bitterly.

Dick buried his face in his hands.

“Call Kori back in,” he said finally, voice muffled by his hands, “we’re gonna need to pump his stomach to get those drugs out.”

Gar unsteadily got to his feet. “Yessir,” he said quietly, leaving Dick alone with his regrets.

Notes:

i have no excuse why i'm so behind. i'm just Like This

Chapter 9: parental dick n dami

Summary:

day 9: “take me instead” | “run!” | ritual sacrifice

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“No,” Richard moaned, twisting futilely in his bonds as the villain of the week turned to Damian, snickering all the while.

Damian glared up at his captor, suppressing a whimper as his leg was jolted. To his dismay, the other man noticed. His grin widened.

“Ooo, looks like you birdies are out of luck today,” he cooed, leaning on his cane. “I do hope your health insurance is up to date,” he said airily, “because this—” Damian involuntarily let out a shrill cry as his bad leg was kicked, “—is gonna be very expensive to fix.”

“Leave him alone,” Richard gasped, which sounded worryingly wet, which meant that he might have fluid in his lungs, which meant that he might have blood in his lungs, which meant that there was something wrong with his ribs, which mean that—

“Oh?” Their captor cocked his head curiously. “Not the kid, you say?”

“He’s a child,” Richard tried, “please, he’s so young, he’s just helping me, he’s not—”

“I am not a child,” Damian snarled, lunging forward as far as his bonds and injuries would let him, then immediately biting his cheek through the white-hot pain.

“Please,” Richard continued desperately, openly pleading, “take me instead, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt him.”

“Hm,” the man said. He tapped his cane against the floor. “Well. What can I say, in the face of such a touching father-son bond?”

Damian froze momentarily. Out of all of the Waynes, Damian and Richard did look very similar, in both coloration and bone structure. However, their eye shapes set them in distinctly different ethnic groups. But those same eyes were now covered by domino masks.

Damian shoved aside any other thoughts of why a stranger might consider them father and son.

“He’s—”

“Of course—”

“Well! You’ve successfully moved me,” the villain declared, sweeping his hands wide in a broad gesture. “I’ll grant your request,” he said to Richard, “heck, I’ll even put you in another room so he doesn’t have to see! How about that!”

Richard sighed, clearly relieved. “Thank you. Thank you so— augh!”

“Up you go,” the other man said cheerfully, slashing through the bonds attaching Richard to the wall and essentially dragging him along by his remaining bonds. Richard stumbled heavily, barely catching himself as he followed along. Damian’s entire body tensed. An unfamiliar fog filled his eyes.

“No!” He shrieked, throwing himself against his bonds as hard as he could. “No! Do not— I am— do not leave me here, take me as well!”

Richard and their captor disappeared through the door, which slammed shut.

Damian screamed.

Notes:

maybe we'll catch up soon?

Chapter 10: dick grayson is killed, part I

Summary:

day 10: blood loss | internal bleeding | blood trail
day 11: defiance | struggling | crying

Notes:

ok so we did not catch up soon. love the way i fell off the wagon literally a week in

TW: uhhh there's a sentence describing gore that is pretty graphic. like explicit level graphic, but it's only one sentence so this is gonna stay rated mature. lmk if that should change tho

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The worst patrol of Damian’s entire life went smoothly for all of an hour before he had even the slightest inkling that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

“… Nightwing?”

A brief moment of silence passed, before Red Robin tried again. “Nightwing?”

“Red Robin, report,” Father growled, turning in the direction of Tricorner Yards.

“You’re… are you…”

“Report,” Damian snapped at the sound of Drake’s increasingly panicked breathing. Damian sneered. Leaving the main comm line open, let alone panicking was exactly the type of foolish mistake to be expected from someone as incompetent as Drake.

“Nightwing? Nightwing??”

“Red Robin, report,” Father grinded out, one hand raised above the switch that would bring the Batmobile to him.

Drake choked. “No.”

“What do you mean, no—”

“No, no, no nonono— you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay—”

Damian’s lungs turned to stone, and suddenly the air became entirely devoid of oxygen. No. Not Richard. Never Richard. Richard was strong, and fierce, and deadly to even some of the League’s most powerful foes, and would not— could not—

“Drake—”

“Red Ro—”

Drake paid them no mind, and continued his mindless blabber as Damian and Father hurled themselves into the Batmobile. “Nightwing, please. You’re not— please don’t— you’re—”

“…Drake?”

Drake whimpered.

“Drake?”

“… Dick, wake up.”

Much to Damian’s horror, the comm line then went dead silent. His traitorous eyes burned, and next to him, Father went utterly still, and his face completely expressionless.

“Drake, please.”

Damian refused to call what he felt relief as Drake started breathing again.

“You— you fucking— how dare you—”

Damian and his father leapt from the vehicle as Drake began shrieking at the top of his lungs.

 

 

Father shoved the warehouse door open, furiously throwing himself into the crowd of thugs. It took another minute before enough of them were downed that Drake’s voice became recognizable.

“You killed him! You fucking killed him he’s dead how dare you kill him I’ll—I’ll—”

Damian stopped dead at his tracks. Slumped over, lying in an improbably large pool of blood, was Richard. In his stomach was a hole the size of a grapefruit, the edges of flayed open and glistening with blood.

He stumbled to his knees, pulling Richard’s head in his lap. Suddenly, he could no longer hear Drake’s anguished voice, or feel any of the fear he had suppressed on his way to the warehouse. He was numb, the only thing taking up his senses the slack expression on the face of the first person that had ever loved him.

He stroked his hair, paying no heed to the blood he was leaving in it.

“Richard,” he murmured, “it’s time to wake up.”

Faintly, he could hear Drake’s voice rise.

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

 

 

Tim, sobbing hard enough that he could barely breathe, downed three thugs, whipped around, and then caved in Harvey Dent’s skull.

Notes:

new goal: finish by october

Chapter 11: dick grayson is killed, part II

Summary:

day 10: blood loss | internal bleeding | blood trail
day 11: defiance | struggling | crying

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

While Tim seemed to be furiously working himself into a second grief-induced mental breakdown, Damian drifted through the manor listlessly, disappearing off into the far reaches of the manor, completely disregarding everyone he came across. Bruce, of course, was ignoring both of them in favor of figuring out exactly what Two-Face had planned that night, like the outstanding father he was.

Jason, on the other hand, was cooking up a storm in the kitchen. He had already made half a dozen dishes in the past few hours in the hopes that the smell would attract one of his siblings, but had only managed to fill the kitchen with the confusing smells of garlic bread, kimchi stew, and apple pie.

Surveying his feast, he sighed, and went upstairs to drag Tim and Damian down for a meal.

 

 

The next day went pretty much the same way, except Jason had so many leftovers he made a trip to his favorite orphanage and dropped off an obscene amount of food.

The kids, even the older ones, were all ridiculously happy to see him and his food, and listening to all their excited chatter made him feel sad, somehow.

 

 

Three days later, Jason, and Bruce, and the rest of Gotham figured out what Tim and Damian were doing all on their lonesome the whole time.

 

 

“Well.” Jason nudged the body of a very dead thug with his boot. “I assume you got all of them?”

Damian nodded silently, blood dripping off his sword. A few meters behind him, Tim paced frantically, poking at his wrist computer. He weaved between the copious amount of dead bodies without any regard for them, too wrapped up to even take notice.

“Jason,” Barbara said quietly from his comm, and a nearby security camera’s light blinked on and off. Jason huffed a breath into his helmet, and pried it off his head.

He kneeled down, reaching an arm out to Damian. “Hey, kiddo. Come here?”

Damian stared straight through him. “Why?”

“I could use a hug,” Jason said frankly, inching a little closer. “Come here? Please? For your brother?”

Damian didn’t respond.

“Please?”

Damian swayed on his feet, and Jason darted forward to catch him in a hug. Sweeping the kid off his feet into a bridal carry, he tucked Damian’s head under his chin. “It’s okay, kiddo. You’ve done well, alright?”

Damian wordlessly shook his head, and then turned his face into Jason’s collarbone and started to cry.

 

 

Rocking Damian like a baby, Jason tentatively approached Tim. “Hey, Timbo. Everything taken care of?”

He stalked up to Jason, pupils blown wide, and still stabbing at his wrist computer. “Their main command and communication structures have been disabled,” he snapped, “their top few tiers of lieutenants were holding most of the power and communications to lower factions, so without them the rest of Two-Face’s gang should fall apart pretty quickly. They have a few filing cabinets of stuff upstairs that might have some information about the things they’ve done and the agreements between different Rogues and gangs, but most of it is probably unnecessary at this point, since everyone’s probably going to steer clear of any major activity for a couple weeks. Also, since Two-Face deals more with arms dealing than anything else, none of his stores should be time-sensitive, which means— ”

“Kid,” Jason said, reaching out his free arm, “come’ere.”

Abruptly deflating, Tim stared up at Jason expressionlessly, his gaze darting between him and the back of Damian’s head.

Taking a step forward, Jason hesitantly wrapped an arm around the kid, letting him press his face into his free shoulder. Tim stood stock still, and silently trembled hard enough that Damian picked his head up to take notice.

“Timothy,” he croaked, reaching out to his least favorite brother, who immediately wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug. Jason draped his arms around them, and they stayed that way until Bruce showed up, Spoiler in tow.

Notes:

ahahahaha i promise i haven't forgotten about this, i'm just busy.... sorry everyone..... i'll get there eventually........

Notes:

tell me what u like!! lmk if i need to tag smth!! talk to me in the comments!!!
everyone, thank u for reading! come talk to me on twitter (@plumstagram) :D