SCAR

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Jason woke up with his head still throbbing and his vision blurred.

He took a deep breath, mentally counted to three and sat down on the stretcher at once. As he gathered the strength to get up, he tried to remember what had happened in the last few hours - he just remembered blowing up one of the sheds where they were storing illegal substances.

— Damn... — he moaned softly — Fuck, fuck, fuck... — he cursed as closed his eyes tightly and opened it again. He saw everything blurry, with indistinguishable shapes that made him nervous.

— I'm here, son... here... — Bruce murmured softly and in his sleep. He had slept sitting next to Jason's stretcher, probably holding one of the rebel's hands until he woke up - Selina was beside him, hugging the night watchman and giving himself to the same heavy sleep.

— What... the fuck... — The boy took a deep breath, felt a sickness in his stomach just to imagine that Bruce - or Batman, since he couldn't determine the presence of the hood - being there with him was more of a hallucination — Calm, Jason. Keep your fucking calm — he ordered himself, lying on the stretcher again.

To lie down and relax was an impossible idea to materialize, since his mind was overflowing with signs of "imminent risk". Even looking at the ceiling made him nervous: he felt that at any moment a gigantic stalactite could come off and fall on him; the cave could collapse due to poorly controlled infiltration and bury it down there...

— Calm the fuck! — declared as he got up again, now getting off the stretcher and walking with hurried steps out of the laboratory.

Alfred did not notice that the boy had already awakened: he was busy serving as a support for Batgirl, Red Robin and Nightwing. More warehouses had been discovered throughout the city where those chemical compounds were being kept.

Jason was too nervous to look for the butler, he just went upstairs and went to hide in the mansion. He felt that the dinosaur could activate and attack it; that the giant coin could slip from the base and roll towards it; that weapons could fire on their own; that the gigantic Joker's card would release Happy Gas... He felt that the previous alternatives could happen simultaneously as well.

However, going to the mansion was not a good idea starting with the chandelier: he was afraid that the large decorative object would fall on top of him. The images of that rainy day, when he arrived at what he still called "home sweet home" terrified him: he found Damian under twisted steel and shards of crystals... his body torn, divided, bloody, dead, with eyes frozen in fear. Damian was too small to have died like that... he didn't want to have the same end!

When he finally got to the stairs, Todd was already breathing fast and all the other symptoms of an impending panic attack. He crawled up the steps, afraid he was going to trip and fall. He kept crawling until he found the first door unlocked and managed to get in, get under some furniture and stay there, huddled.

He was now in the office, suffering with an extraordinary anxiety, with fear, with vertigo that barely allowed him to open his eyes without feeling sick... he was suffering alone, because his mind only accepted that Bruce being close was a hallucination. He didn't blame him, after everything he had done in the past few day ... what he had said...

The makeshift shelter he had set up, a small tea table, trembled as did his body. The delicate porcelain pieces creaked with the tremor - they moaned like small creatures in agony.

But the sound didn't bother him, his mind was busy making him relive more painful memories.

The hallucinations lasted until the sound of an alarm clock echoed through the emptiness of the mansion and overpowered the others. It was an unceasing noise, fast and extremely loud. Then, footsteps... footsteps approaching. Perhaps it was just one of the toxin's side effects, yet another hallucination that seemed to be real.

— Mr. Pennyworth? — Damian's voice called from outside.

It was just a hallucination.

Damian was still unconscious - because of Bruce. If he had woken up, they would have already warned him... although they did, but it was probably just a false alarm like the other time.

If the little boy had really woken up, Tim would have bombed him with pictures and Dick would have called him countless times already... but he had left without his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed while dealing with things his way - blowing up the warehouse.

Do not.

There was no justification.

Damian awake was a hallucination!

A painful hallucination that would disappear like the others, sooner or later!

— Mr. Pennyworth? — the little one called again, now giving himself the freedom to open the door and look for the butler.

Jason sucked in as much air as he could and tried to stifle his own crying. He trembled even more with the internal struggle between the desire to see the brat and the fear of meeting that bloodthirsty beast like the last time - it was a hallucination, it could only be bad.

— I-Is... Is anyone here? — Damian asked lower — I... — He fell silent and seemed to think of something good enough for the situation — I-if you are a thief, the keys to the door are in the kitchen. Just... just doesn't hurt anyone, okay? Take a... a cookie for Titus and a Ace, they won't bite if they win cookies, it won't hurt them either! — He tried to sound brave, but his voice was as broken as his shaky legs.

— Damn it, Dami! Why do you have to be fucking cute with everyone!? — Jason sighed between sobs and cries — If I were a thief, I would have shot you already! — Rebuke a hallucination... proof of how out of control the rebel was.

The child, unlike him, did not see the whole situation as another "warning of imminent danger". On the contrary: Damian smiled as he recognized his brother's voice, hurrying to turn on the lights and look for Jason. It was easy, after all, the tea table barely hid it with thin legs and the glass top.

— ... Jay! — the brat said full of happiness in seeing his brother again. Impulsive, he threw himself on the floor and managed to get under the table like the oldest, hugged him and stayed there, as if nothing else mattered but that troubled rebel — I missed you, you took a long time to come back! — looked at him, taking the opportunity to run his hand over his brother's face and wipe the tears — Are you sad? Did you have a fight with my father again?

— No, no brat... — Jason sighed and hugged him like a bear capturing his prey — I just... damn! — Sobbed — I just missed you! — He smiled, because at least in a hallucination he was seeing his favorite brat again, awake and well.

— Is that it?

— Yeah...

— And ... why did you hide here? — Damian did not want to disturb his brother, but his head was resting on his chest, he could hear the rapid beating.

— Even I don't know, Dami — He hugged him a little more — Woke up… you woke up a long time ago?

— No — Smiled — Where were you? Your clothes have a strange smell...

— I was... solving. That! Resolving... — He took a break to breathe a few times before continuing — Solving a few things, that's all — Again he paused, now to omit a sobbing cry and catch his breath — It's over, it's all over and gone be okay — he whispered more to try to calm himself than as an answer — be okay...

— Did you get hurt? — With a little effort, the little one managed to detach one of the arms from the embrace and touch his fingertips to a bandage on his brother's face - next to his mouth, which covered the entire cheek.

— ... Yeah, I think so... — Jason smiled a little forcedly, holding Damian's hands again and trying to calm himself with the idea of a possible infection in the place or something worse — Another scar as a trophy — he murmured softly, trying to convince yourself that it would pass.

— Don't you care about scars?

— Of course not, they make me more beautiful... — Again he forced himself to smile. He was breathing fast, in a desperate attempt to maintain control.

— ... Do you really think so? — Damian looked at him with green eyes full of curiosity.

— That I am handsome? Of course!

— I think so too, but not that... — he said with a lovely laugh at the end — The scars, don't you think they are ugly?

— I... should I? — Jason bit his lower lip, trying not to imagine all the scars on his body opening up again - in vain, because that anguishing sensation had already taken over him.

The little boy nodded and hid his face. He seemed to be thinking about what to say, but just took the courage to ask one more question:

— And my father, does he not care about them too?

— Bruce? Not that I know of, why? He... — He sighed, sniffed and then continued: — No, damn it... he has several.

— ... Sometimes he looks at mine... — Damian answered awkwardly — He must think me ugly...

— You are not ugly, Dami.

— Timothy calls me a gremlin...

— Fuck them, I am... your favorite brother and I'm saying: you are not ugly — He smiled, this time he tried to be genuine, but all he had to do was look at his little brother to lose the rest of his sanity.

— Not even with that scar on the eyebrow? — The little one looked at him, waiting anxiously for an answer. It was a small scar on his left eyebrow, nothing that caught the eye, let alone diminish the beauty of those green eyes.

However, Jason was not seeing this. He could see Damian's bumpy version with his face completely torn, lifeless eyes, muscles holding on to what the bang of the chandelier and that piece of metal had broken.

It was enough for him to start screaming in panic, kicking, giving himself up to tears and holding Damian against him the same way he did that day. The little one, without understanding what was happening, only hugged his brother more while asking:

— Jay, what happened!?

The rebel continued to scream and curse while he was breathing. Then he was content and wept until he sobbed, looking anywhere but his brother's misshapen face. He looked at the glass top of that small table that served as a shelter, with tea pieces in expensive and fragile porcelain... everything was shaking, they could break at any moment.

— Jay? — Damian called him worried.

Again the boy ignored the youngest, crawling to a safer place for both of them: he leaned back in an office chair, away from any piece of decoration or potentially dangerous object.

He held Damian to himself, completely immobilized in that bear hug.

— Jay, is everything okay?

— Just... — The older man took a deep breath, relieving the hug a little - the muscles were already numb — Just hug... quiet, ok? — asked — Just hug me... — He sobbed, trying to stop the tears again — It will be okay, everything will be okay… be okay...

Damian obeyed and hugged his brother as hard as he could. However, he did not contain the puerile curiosity he felt:

— Did you have a nightmare? — he asked quietly.

Jason sighed considerably more calmly and put a hand over his younger brother's hair, trying to prove to himself that Damian was fine. After a few seconds of an awkward caress, he finally managed to answer:

— This... is — He rested his chin on the top of his head — It's just a nightmare, everything will be fine...

— I also have bad nightmares... — Damian whispered — But just wake up and everything is fine. We're awake now, Jay...

— Shut up, you're just a fucking hallucination! — he murmured, trying to convince himself.

I'm sorry... — the little one said softly, contenting himself with just hugging his brother by the shoulders and staying there with him, listening to his fast and uneven heartbeat.

Jason continued in the same way: with his chin resting on Damian's head, hugging him and being hugged back. The crying continued, considerably milder than before - perhaps the effect of that modified drug was finally dissipating.

He only got nervous again when he heard footsteps outside. Two figures entered through the door, which was just leaning:

— If I had not taken that tranquilizer, this would not have happened ... — Bruce grunted looking around, but it was enough to find the children safe to let a smile escape.

— If I hadn't taken that tranquilizer, Master Bruce, it would have happened while we were planning his funeral - Alfred replied a little more poisonously than usual - he was in a bad mood for having delayed Damian's medication schedule.

Jason gasped in alarm when he recognized Bruce, but what caught his attention was not the disheveled hair or the underside of Batman's uniform - the classic "underwear over his pants" - but the various dressings that almost completely covered his chest his. Dressings with reddish spots sprouting.

— ... F-Father !? — the rebel called him in a break voice.

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NOTE

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Fear Gas, like Happy Gas, is an extremely dangerous chemical compound with variable and extremely dangerous reactions.

It was created by professor and doctor Paul Ferdinand Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, who was a great psychiatrist and psychologist, even leading the Arkham Asylum before losing the little sanity he still had. He conducted several experiments using humans, starting when he was still a professor at Gotham University.

Crane suffered a lot when he was a child, it was at that time that he gained an uncontrollable fear by crows (hence the Scarecrow, something that scares his own fear). When he was older, wanting to become stronger, he imposed on himself that he would never be afraid again and, for that, he started his studies focused on a toxin that would "help" people overcome their fears.

Such a toxin started out milder, like a "fear potion", being allowed even at parties on the university campus. Then he started to improve it and finally arrived at Fear Gas with the help of Ra's al Ghul (who made a rare flower available as a raw material).

There are currently several versions of Fear Gas. The effect varies, but it is always of intense, sometimes irrational fear, which can lead to death (from heart attack or harmful effects on the brain). Batman has already developed several antidotes to neutralize toxins, overcoming fear also nullifies some of the symptoms.

Note to note: The Scarecrow wears a mask to become immune to gas.