I started writing this in July… because I knew it would take me this long to write a fic for Christmas.
Batfamily Christmas Carol AU, here we come ?
…
Ra's Al Ghul was dead… to begin with.
Dead as a door nail.
After yet another showdown between the Dark Knight and the Demon's Head, Batman had managed to come out on top (barely), disarming the Leader of the League of Assassins and using the man's own sword to stab him through the heart.
It was over…. And Batman regretted it instantly.
He'd broken his one rule.
No killing.
"B?"
Silently, Bruce turned to face the young boy beside him.
Jason… he'd only been Robin for a little over a year and it was clear that the boy had anger issues… he couldn't have Jason make the same mistake as he just did.
"You alright B?" Jason scanned the older man from head to toe, wincing at the sight of all the cuts and bruises, "You look… awful."
"I'm fine." Bruce's voice was a low growl, with more than a touch of tension in it, causing Jason to back away slightly, still slightly nervous from his time on the streets.
"No need to snap B…" Jason muttered, trying to play off his nerves, "… I was just- "
"- Enough!" Bruce turned and moved past his adoptive son, "We're going home… now!"
"But B- "
"- NOW ROBIN!"
…..Seven months later…..
"Again!" commanded Bruce as he threw Jason to the ground, "Watch your footing! A mistake like that could get you or both of us killed!"
"Yeah, yeah…" Jason whispered, clearly exhausted as he pushed his aching muscles into a defensive position. However, before he could begin again, footsteps echoed throughout the Bat-cave as Alfred made his way downstairs, a tray of sandwiches in his arms.
"Sparring still?" the butler began, raising a disapproving eyebrow at Bruce, "It's Christmas Eve Master Bruce, surely Batman and Robin can take a break? The rest of Gotham is after all."
Jason glanced eagerly at Bruce, before turning away as Bruce narrowed his eyes at him.
"Gotham never rests Alfred…" Bruce growled, "… and Jason needs all the practice he can get."
Alfred frowned, "Would it kill you to feel a little bit of Christmas spirit Master Bruce? Santa won't come if you're not feeling the true spirit."
As Jason cackled at the butler's sarcasm, Bruce found himself getting tense. "What right do you have to be so happy about all this…" he growled at the man who'd practically raised him from the age of nine, "… looking for a Christmas bonus?"
There was a stunned silence in the cave, with Jason no daring to make a sound as a disappointed look flash across Alfred's face.
"And what right do you have to be so miserable…" Alfred eventually spoke up, acting as though the words hadn't bothered him in the slightest, "… when you have everything you ever need?" He glanced at Jason meaningfully, before spinning around on his heels and heading back towards the entrance. Before he left however, he twisted back around, "Merry Christmas Master Bruce. Merry Christmas Master Jason."
"Merry Christmas Alfred!" Jason called out, the smile disappearing from his face as Bruce turned a harsh glare at him.
"Let me guess… you don't want to go on patrol today or tomorrow?"
Jason nodded slowly, clearly treading the water carefully. "If you don't mind?"
"Well, apparently my opinions mean nothing in this house, so go ahead. But the morning after, I want you to be up an hour earlier for training. Do you understand?"
Jason nodded frantically, "Yeah, yeah, I get it!"
"Go then."
The tone was dismissive, and Jason's face fell slightly at it. But he nodded in understanding anyway and raced out of the cave. Bruce stared after him, before shaking his head and heading over to the Bat-computer.
Robin might not want to fight crime, but Batman never had a night off.
He had work to do.
And then his personal mobile started to ring.
As soon as he answered it, a familiar, gruff voice spoke up.
"Mister Wayne!" The mayor exclaimed, "I'd noticed you hadn't replied to the invitation for the annual Christmas party, the fundraiser? We're raising money for the local orphanages and- "
"-I'm very sorry…" Interrupted Bruce, "… but I'm afraid I won't be able to attend."
"Oh… well, may I ask why?"
"Business… nothing personal, however, I will be out of the country until the New Year."
Without even waiting for a reply, Bruce ended the call, continuing on with his work.
…
The hours flew by and before long, Bruce found himself heading back to his room. The mansion was dark and practically deserted at this time of the night, with Jason and Alfred in bed, probably having already taken care of the presents.
As he approached his bedroom door, Bruce suddenly stopped, eyes widening at a familiar, ghostly figure.
"Ras Al Ghul?" he whispered.
The figure smirked, before rushing at him, mouth open in a silent scream as Bruce was forced to roll out of the way of the oncoming attack. Leaping to his feet, Bruce span around…. But there was nobody there. Twisting around, he desperately scanned the area… still nothing.
Quickly, he opened his door and walked in… nothing in there either.
Shaking his head, he took a seat on his bed and sighed wearily…. Maybe he did need to start sleeping more.
And then he heard the banging.
"Jason…" he hissed in anger, "… I swear I'm going to- "
There was another bang, followed by the rattling of chains.
"… Jason?"
The sound was far too close to be Jason.
He twisted around, only to leap to his feet as the ghostly figure strode through his door, a long chain still attached to his neck and a sneer on the aged face.
"Who are you?!" Bruce demanded to know.
The figure smirked, "Why don't you ask me who I was?"
"… Who were you then?"
"You know exactly who I was…. I am the one who leads the League of Assassins, the Demon's Head! Ras Al Ghul!"
"…. You're dead."
"You don't believe in me?"
"No."
"Why do you doubt your sense Bruce?"
"Because even the slightest thing can fool them…. A crumb of bread, a piece of cheese or a bit of uncooked potatoes. There is more of gravy than grave about you!"
Ras laughed at this, the cackle echoing throughout the room as he didn't even bother to dignify the statement with a response.
"What do you want Ras… apart from trying to make my life harder?"
"I'm here to warn you Bruce… warn you of your fate when you come to join me."
"My fate?!"
Ras shook his head, "You're not a kind man Bruce… some might even call you cruel."
Raising an eyebrow in disbelief, Bruce shook his head. "If this is all about my…. Alternate life, then being kind isn't something I'm worried about."
"And what about your son…. He's not happy Bruce, in fact, you could argue that he's depressed. Your billionaire persona is falling apart all around you…. But there is still a chance for you."
"A chance?"
Ras grabbed the chain that was still trailing behind him and practically thrusted it in Bruce's face, "You see this chain? The weight of this chain reflects all of my sins, every dark act I've ever performed! A similar chain is developing for you because of everything that you've been doing…. Every cruel action adds another link to the chain!"
Bruce shook his head, "I do what I have to do in order to help Gotham, in order to make it a better place for Jason!"
"You treat him like a whipping boy… isn't that why Richard left?"
Bruce flinched, the memory of Dick punching him in the face and storming away still fresh in his mind. "It'll be different with Jason…." He whispered, "… he won't be like Dick."
Smirking, Ras shrugged. "And therein lies your problem…. You're going about it all wrong. You're lucky that you've been given another chance. You will be haunted by three spirits, one after the other, starting after the first hour of the day has passed."
Bruce shook his head, "Can't I meet them all at once and get it over with? I've had enough of ghosts for one lifetime."
"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that…" Ras turned to leave, "… remember, at the first strike of one, the first ghost will appear."
Before he could pass through the door, Bruce held out a hand, "Wait! What's going to happen to you?"
Ras smirked, "Is that concern I hear?"
"I just want to make sure you're going to the right place."
"Well… rest assured, I will be chained up like this for all eternity. Forgotten and suffering for my crimes…." He then sighed, "… take this chance Bruce. For your sake."
With this, the spirit disappeared through the door, closely followed by Bruce, who burst into the corridor… to find nothing.
Ras was gone.
Shaking his head, Bruce headed back into the room, changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed, trying to push the strange incident out of his mind.
…..
After a few hours of restless tossing and turning, Bruce found himself sitting against his headboard in an attempt to mediate. As the bedside clock flickered and turned one, he desperately tried to focus on anything but the warning he was given.
The seconds passed and with each one, Bruce relaxed… that is, until his room suddenly filled with light and another ghostly figure materialised in his room.
"… Mom?"