AN: Just wanted to say thank you to the few followers and reviews, I'm floored by how many visits/views my story has generated. Thank you, everyone! It means a lot to me :3

"Did they say by who?" Remmy went to check Selina's pulse, knowing she asked 'who' and not 'what'.

Damian only shook his head, wary setting shadows deep under his eyes, making the eighteen year old look far more aged. He watched her intently, squinting in question as Remmy's eyes shut for what felt like minutes, hours, days- he simply couldn't bare it.

"What?" his tone was flat, incapable of accepting his most feared idea, Alfred only two feet away hanging in the same balance.

"What do you have here?"

"What do you mean?"

"For supplies," she finally opened her eyes, they had returned to their emerald green. "We need to start a blood transfusion." Damian started and Alfred looked more confused than appalled.

"If I knew who had bitten them this would be easier, but because I don't, we need to take as much of their blood out and give them mine. They won't survive the fever otherwise." she looked to Damian with sad, almost apologetic eyes.

"So you are a werewolf." he grimmaced at his own voice of disgust.

"No," she turned from him, the hurt unmistakable in her eyes, "No, Damian," she sighed rolling up her sleeves as Alfred had already started prepping both Selina, Bruce and the multiple bags of blood he was about to take from her. "I am a demon, that much I can promise you," she shook her head again, smiling and it didn't sit well on her face- it was pathetic, sad and weak as she looked back to the boy again, faded green eyes gleaming in the dimly lit cave. "I am a demon, Damian, not an infection. I am a specie, a creature, something...different. I'll explain everything after." she shrugged, never looking away.

"If you survive." Alfred wasn't about to let that information become lost on Damian.

"What?"

"They need a transfusion, she's one person Damian."

He balked, looking to her in a surprised expression that he knew would disguse his hurt.

"Damian, my natural temperature runs around 112 degrees...that's a resting rate for me. Their brains will fry if they're not supplied some sort of demonic interference."

"It's a demon that did this to them." Alfred added in coldly again.

"It was meant for me." she apologized to the butler. "But if you don't start draining them or me they'll be dead sooner than you can be any worse displeased by me and my kind."

Damian somehow methodically assisted Alfred, feeling as if he was watching someone else stick a needle into Remmy's arm and another into his fathers. The infected blood ran from Selina and Bruce, collected into bags and vials, as much as they could hold and tamper with and manipulate later on. Damian watched their blood drip, drip, drip, into the clear containers. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as the vision of only earlier this evening, or yesterday as it was the earliest hours before dawn once more, flashed into his mind. It was simply of Remmy before any of his suspicions were answered, before anymore unanswerable questions had risen, it was when he simply wanted to take her out to lunch and instead chased her into the raining afternoon of Gotham City, he had paused to watch the weather soak her and she had sworn up to the heavens with a defeated, at ease smile. He wanted to see that again. He didn't want her to die. He wanted answers. He wanted to see her skin again- he wanted to count the scars.

Richard had watched from the entrance above them, not entirely sure if he should descend as he was without his costume. But Dick's heart raced as he knew that Bruce's body was literally being drained. His rage for the demon that sat between Selina and Bruce's body was palpable, thick like ashes in his mouth as he stormed down the spiraling stairs. He took them two, three at a time as his rage intensified only as the girl made eye contact with him. He was shot down his intrigue and was appalled at the sudden red and yellow colors looking back to his dark blue ones.

"Start talking," he growled, catching Damian's attention and instantly frazzling the already frustrated boy.

"She can't," he growled, releasing the tourniquets on her arms, letting her blood flow into both Selina and Bruce, Alfred bandaging their exit wounds for the procedure.

"I can." she met Dick Grayson's heavy and angry eyes with clear and sorrowful ones. This was her fault, she knew and Dick glared at her as thoroughly and hatefully as any friend of the Batman should. This was her careless, childish mistake that had put this family in danger.

Richard glared evenly at Damian, ready for a screaming, scratching, seething quarrel to erupt. He was more stunned and almost agitated that the younger brother didn't feed into the fury and need to fight him. Dick went and turned on all scanning and recording devices within the cave, finding that they need to analyze everything about this girl. He was surprised to find Damian's file on her well written already.

"I am a demon, one of the oldest kind," she flexed her fingers, watching her thick blood sluggishly plunged through the tubes, being sucked into bags and laced into Bruce and Selina. "I don't even know how old we are, we predate human sacrifice, we predate Egypt's pyramids-"

"We get it, you're old." Dick spat, rushing her along.

"As a demon we are far different than humans. We can assume or shift shapes because we can adapt- we are predators. Human and canines are easiest to transition between, always have been. I have no idea why," she shrugged, arms twitching from the twinge it created in the curve of her arms. "We have parasitic saliva and blood, they are alkaline compared to even hazardous chemicals your skin would melt away from. We can transition from ailments by shapeshifting."

"How is your blood saving them?" Alfred quietly looked to her, halting Dick's rushed words and Damian's bitten insults.

"My blood will alter theres, similar, I guess, in the easiest way to explain is that they'll acquire some of my attributes. My blood will heal their wounds and nullify the acid in the spit, it will burn off the infection. They'll be stronger, more aware of not only their surroundings, but by reading people and even the weather- everything around them. They will not shape shift, but their muscles will surge from the blood, their wounds both new and old helped and renewed from it. It will give them a few days of peace and recovery and it will filter out as their own bodies recover from the transfusion. They'll become hot, but not in danger of a fever. I'd say they'll run around 103 or 4, their resting rates will be elevated. They'll be fine." she sighed, vision become hazy as she lost count of the bags of blood as the line was disconnected from one of her arms.

"that makes no sense!" Dick growled, slamming a fist on the keyboard of the great computer.

And, shocking everyone, Remmy laughed, the giggle turning into a controlled mirth and by the time Alfred removed the second pike from her arm, she was crying from laughing so painfully hard.

"I'm a fucking demon." she spat finally, her body feeling drunk and wavering. She looked to Damian, her eyes swirling the darkest he had ever seen and leaned out to grasp his arms as he was preparing to catch her fall from the chair.

"She's right, Master Richard." Though disbelief rang in Alfred's words as he watched the monitors, slowly becoming absolutely engrossed in the fact that the stitched wounds were healing right before his eyes. The saliva was pushed out like venom and he quickly grabbed the suture scissors to remove the unnecessary threading holding the absolutely healed skin together. The pink turned to white and turned back to a correct color as it so quickly healed as if they had never been scratched, never been bitten and bruised and broken. "She's right." the butlers whole rigid body sagged in relief, hooking up another bag of the hot demonic blood to enter into their bodies. "She's right." and he brushed back unshed tears of relief and happiness, glancing at their temperatures that ranged around the hundreds, their heart rates in fact higher than he expected, their lung pumping in smooth, even rhythms.

"I'm a fucking demon," she giggled again, staring up into Damian's enlarged eyes. She reached up her hand, resting it aside his cheek, enjoying the stubble beginning to grow back on the young mans face and a coo made his gaze soften upon her. Without another word, he gathered her in his arms again and walked passed both Alfred and Dick, not acknowledging their questions and remarks as he brought her back into the mansion, brought her to his wing, to his corridor, finally to his bedroom. He took off her shoes, eased her weak body out of a sweatshirt he had managed to first put her into. He watched her lazily watch him as he went to unbutton her pants, trying to make her comfortable, but her freezing hand over his stopped him, her gasp making him stare long and hard at her slightly exposed hips. Those scars and tattoos, he wanted to touch them, trace them with his fingers, rub them with his hands, taste them with his tongue.

"I wasn't doing anything, just trying to help you get comfortable."

"I know," she breathed and he knew she didn't doubt him, "I'm freezing, Damian. Thank you, though." and her eyes seemed drunk and sick, not just tired. Before he could second guess himself, before he realized what he was doing, he crawled into bed with her, slipping behind her body and wrapping himself around her. Damian spooned her, his face buried into the back of her neck as she tensed in his arms, stuffing all the down blankets and soft throws on top of them. They were suddenly trapped beneath all the blankets like a child's fortress hiding from the dark, all hot breath and tangled legs. Damian's grasp wrapped around her ribs, pulling her even tighter to his chest.

"Thank you," he exhaled, her shudder in response making all his blood race below his navel and his pants were tightening against her backside with an alarming speed.

"Hmm?" she was weak, exhausted in so many ways, but she was suddenly so safe and comfortable in this strange boys arms, under his blankets in their makeshift fort, their hiding place from how fucked up the world had become in such a short time.

"For saving them,"

"It's my fault," and the sadness in her voice shocked him, clenched his heart so tight he felt like he couldn't breathe. That sound agonized him.

"Shut up," he growled, hand flying up to her face, gripping her chin with more force than he needed and she turned into it, his lips crushing into hers. She moaned, turning into his arms, his erection burying into her stomach through the starch denim. "Shut up," he whispered again before plunging deeper into the kiss, shivering as her tongue forced its dominance into his mouth. He was at a loss, trying desperately to learn fast and keep up with her, fighting her tongue back into her mouth, his body rising, rolling them gently as she was on her back. "Shut up," he cooed into her, staring down at her eyes, finding the soft orange and red in her left eye, back to the gold, honey-brown of her right one. He kissed her softly, once, twice, three times across her lips before laying his head down across her chest, nestling into the crook of her neck. Even for her fast heart rate, he smiled as he heard it pounding in her ribs, her lungs shivery with each breath. He closed his eyes, enthralled by that sound as one of his hands snaked around to hold hers. She was all sensation, all fumbling, blurry sensation as she smiled, passing out from exhaustion and near close to blood loss as Damian fell asleep in her arms.