So- my parents are mad. A deer got hit by a car and died in my yard, so I, having the brilliant idea to get the skull, since my friends collect deer skulls, cut the head off with a hacksaw and started to strip the flesh away with a pocket knife. Then my Dad found me and flipped out and said I'd get flesh eating bacteria. So yeah- I've got 24 hours to live. I'll try and post as much as I can before I buy the farm... Lol! JK, though I did cut off the deer head... not my brightest moment.
Anyways, this chapter has... JASON! Everyone's favorite hero who's a little rough around the edges! I LOVE JASON! please review and tell me what you think!
Bruce's phone rang. It was six in the morning, and he was looking across the table at his newest addition to the Wayne family- Jason.
He cast a glance at his phone, about to turn it off, when he sa the caller ID. His brows furrowed, a worried expression came over his face, and he grabbed it and quickly left the room.
Jason could hear words being said, though he couldn't make them out, and he was, in all honestly, too busy eating Cocoa Puffs. He hadn't had food readily available when he was living on the streets, and though he'd been here for two weeks, he was still getting used to it.
He looked up when Bruce entered the room again. The man didn't bother to look at him, instead saying something to Alfred before heading out of the room.
"Alfred? Where's he going?" Jason asked. Suddenly the sixteen year old felt incredibly out of the loop.
Alfred gave him a patronizing smile. "Regrettably, Master Jason, Master Bruce has a rather urgent situation he must attend to."
"You mean Batman?" Jason asked. He'd been training hard, maybe he'd finally be allowed to help...
"No. As Bruce Wayne, my dear boy. Just a slight issue. Please, don't concern yourself."
Jason nodded. Still, he was curious... He'd find out later, though.
"What's wrong with her?" Bruce asked seriously as he walked the halls of the hospital, the doctor beside him.
"We aren't certain, Mr. Wayne..."
Of course these idiots wrren't certain. If she'd been at home, he could've easily done a bacteria culture and a toxology screen by now. He was kicking himself for even sending her here. She was safer at home...
"It appears to be the swine flu."
He stopped dead. "What's her condition?"
"She's doing as well as can be expected, Mr. Wayne. Running a fever and dehydrated, though, She hasn't been awake long enough to speak to us..."
Bruce wanted to kick himself down the hallway. Of course, he should've known
The swine flu was sweeping across the US, why would it be any different in the UK? He should've gotten her vaccinated...
"Let me assure you, Mr. Wayne, we're providing the best care..." the doctor was continuing with his speech.
"What room is she in?" Bruce interrupted. He could care less about ettiquite, now, his daughter was in the hospital...
"The last room to the left. But I can assure you, Mr. Wayne, she's recieving the best treatment..."
He ignored the man, walking into the room, eyes examining her nervously. She'd been hurt before, he'd been in this situation so many times with his children, but that worried, anxious gnawing in the pit of his stomach never ceased when he was seeing the damage.
She was incredibly pale, save firthe feverish flush in her cheeks, there was an IV in her arm, and her eyes were closed. She looked to be peacefully sleeping, and he stepped forward, leaning close to her and placing his jand against her forehead. He could feel the heat there, not normal heat, but burning. He opened his eyes, surprised.
"Scarlet?" he asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper. She moaned, wriggling a little. He trailed his hand down her cheek in an affectionate, soothing gesture.
He noticed what looked like a vomit stain on her shirt. The hospital, thankfully, hadn't changed her out of her clothes, or they'd have seen the scars from her hero days. Still, it broke his heart to think she'd been here, alone, vomiting and feverish, without him nearby to calm her down.
"Has she had any nightmares?" he asked the doctor quietly. Normal nightmares were awful by themselves, but when she was running a fever... Night terrors weren't uncommon.
The doctor, thankfully, shook his head.
He looked at her and made his decision, then. She'd be more comfortable at home, not to mention he trusted the doctors there and knew he could monitor her better in the med bay of the bat cave.
"I want her discharge papers."
"Pardon? Mr. Wayne, I see no reason why..."
"She'll be treated back in Gotham." he held his finger to his earpiece. "Ready the jet." was all he said, before nodding to the doctor, waiting for the discharge papers.
She came to, the first thing she was aware if was the rythemic buzzing. She winced, brining a heavy arm to her head. She felt like crap, and she didn't dare open her eyes...
The second thing she took notice of was the dull, throbbing ache that seemed ti revrebrate through her entire being. And the third was... a hand in her own?
Her eyelids fluttered open, surprised, and through the blinding light she could just make out Bruce.
"Go back to sleep, Scarlet. We're almost home." he reassured her.
She couldn't, though. What was wrong with her? Had she been poisoned, that night, during the drugs bust? Did he know about her patrols around London?
She licked her dry lips. "W-what's wrong with me?
"Flu. Go back to sleep, Scarlet."
She was about to oblige when she realized something. BRUCE was HERE.
"You... you came." she muttered softly.
Bruce's expression took on a hurt look.
"Of course I came, Scarlet." he said, reaching out to smooth back her hair in a soothing gesture. "I'd go to the ends of the earth to get you. Now- sleep."
She nodded, eyes fluttering closed, snd Bruce continued to stroke her hair until he was sure she was asleep.
He looked up. They'd be landing in half an hour. A half an hour until she was home.
It was midnight. But that didn't mean anything to Jason Todd. He was busy training- so far, he'd seldom been allowed on patrol with Bruce. That pissed him off. He was Robin, for pete's sake! He should be beside Batman ALWAYS. Bruce's excuse- he didn't have the training.
So what time it was didn't mean anything to him. Whenever he woke up or found his nocturnal side kicking in, he trained- hours upon hours, until he either fell asleep or Alfred forced him to stop and eat.
He'd been at it for three hours so far, tonight. The punching bag and his hands were slick with his blood- his kunckles had long since split. But he didn't care. The pain with each punch just woke him up, made him even more determined. And if Bruce saw the healing knuckles... Maybe he'd see just how devoted his new son was.
He was feeling tired, and Alfred would be mad if he wasn't in bed by one. He breifly wondered where Bruce had gone. He hadn't seen the man all day.
He gave up the ghost, finally, a half-an hour later, toweling off his bloody knuckles and walking towards the man center of the cave. He passed the medbay and saw her, then.
His brow furrowed. She was little, looked to be only thirteen or so. She had an IV but no visible injuries he could see. Still, she was a civilian, and she was in the bat Cave...
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to face Bruce, his questions written on his face.
"Her name is Scarlet Grayson."
"You mean that girl you adopted before me?" he asked quietly.
Bruce nodded. "She's been at boarding school. She's got the swine flu- I brought her home today. I don't want you near her- you aren't vaccinated. As far as you're concerned, Scarlet is upstairs in her room being treated, not here. Understood?"
Jason nodded, but his brow was creased. "I-wasn't she a hero?" he asked quietly. "I mean, Sparrow..."
Bruce stiffened slightly. "She used to be a hero, yes."
"Why not still one?"
"She didn't follow orders." Bruce said simply. "As I said, you aren't to concern yourself with her." and with that, the man briskly walked away, leaving Jason to wonder about just who Scarlet Grayson was.