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Pair-ee Holds the Key

The dark, morbid irony of the fact that he might be in the city of love was not lost in the slightest on Blake. He didn't actually know if they were in Paris-he hadn't seen any famous landmarks on the brief car ride to their destination thanks to the tinted windows-but he was pretty sure that the majority of the people out and about on the street they eventually pulled up to were speaking French. Not that Blake was an expert there either, but he was pretty sure he recognized the accent. He heard a couple of other languages too-one of them English-but he didn't even bother to try and figure out who in the crowd was speaking it. No point.

Yes they were on a populated street, in a city where he had rights and freedoms, but even if cops were to walk past them Blake knew that any attempt to ask for help would just end in pain, bloodshed, and a highly likelihood of death. Blood he did not want on his or Simon's hands.

Especially since the good guys wouldn't stand a chance and it would all be for nothing.

So Blake willingly got out of the car without pitching a fit and walked the short distance to the three-story building Bane's men herded them all towards like cattle. Blake deliberately didn't look at the people around them and instead focused on the exterior of the building and its architecture for the brief minute or so that he could before they went inside the generic entrance and headed straight for an elevator flanked by potted plants.

The sound of a muffled snicker from Simon was a surprise distraction from his study of the layout, Blake turning his head to give the young alpha a questioning look as they rearranged themselves to all fit inside the elevator's cramped quarters. There was, after all, nothing funny about their present circumstances. And Simon's sense of humor wasn't the most developed normally.

Case in point Simon smiled over at him while they were surrounded by trained killers. "I was just remembering the animated movie 'Anastasia'. Wasn't that a great soundtrack?"

"Yeah. Doesn't that take place in Russia, though? Why would being here remind you-" And then he remembered. "The last part of the movie takes place in Paris. Gotcha. But why is that funny?"

"Everyone can Can-can. Even these guys, according to the song."

"What are you..." Trailing off as he pictured Bane trying to do the can-can, Blake thought that that was almost worth the no doubt humiliating, possibly degrading, and most definitely unwanted doctor's appointment he was about to have.

Blake's shoulders shook as he fought to keep a straight face, Simon humming the song under his breath NOT helping one little bit.

Bane wasn't amused by the humming either, his stern face currently on full display for once. Sort of. He was wearing a plain black scarf wrapped around his throat, partially obscuring his scarred face from just below his mouth down. He could pull it up to cover the majority of his scars if he wanted, but hadn't, as yet. A fact Blake would have appreciated a hell of a lot more under different circumstances.

"Quiet, Boy. You will behave and act as a League member until we return to the residence. That is, if you wish me to consider your request."

"Wait...what?" That did not sound good to Blake. Had Simon stupidly sold his soul to the devil when he wasn't paying attention? Though really, what use would Bane HAVE for Simon, much less his soul? Blake prided himself on his imagination, but currently he was drawing a blank.

"I want my name back."

It took Blake a moment to understand. Oh. Simon wanted to be called Simon again. With Hitachi dead, there was no reason to keep up the façade that Simon was someone else. And it made sense that Simon wanted to take back his identity-not to mention the fact that Blake knew all about name importance and being called by the name you wanted. Stupid Bane calling him Robin all the time.

Though it would just figure that Simon would get his name back just as Blake had finally grown use to the whole calling him Kei thing. Sigh.

"So if he behaves he gets his name back? That's it?" He understood the desire, but Blake also didn't want Simon going over to the dark side, either. Especially since they did not have cookies.

"I don't want it enough to turn evil." Simon informed him. Or possibly Bane, just in case.

Bane aimed a dark look in Simon's direction. "I'll settle for you not embarrassing me in public."

The older alpha's tone made it clear he thought that was beyond Simon. And...fair.

Simon apparently thought so too, grumbling that he'd never get to use his right name before he died.

The chirp of the elevator and the doors opening onto the top floor ended the discussion for the moment, all of them making their way out of the lift and into what looked like a high-end reception area. There was fancy art on the wall, real plants, and the smartly dressed woman who sat behind the antique walnut desk in front of them probably made way more than Blake had on a cop's salary.

Not that that was saying much.

"Good evening, Gentlemen. I hope you're enjoying your visit to our city." The woman, early fifties, was all professional smiles as she pushed back her seat and came around the desk to greet them. Her English was flawless, Blake noted, only a hint of a French accent giving her country of origin away. Nothing about her body language or face gave away any curiosity or trepidation she might have, faced with a group of obviously dangerous men while on her own either. Impressive.

"I understand you're under a time constraint, so please, if you'd follow me. I'll take you to Dr. Eilish."

"Thank you." Bane inclined his head, motioning for her to lead the way.

The propriety hand he placed on Blake's lower back to propel him forward was not appreciated in the slightest. Though it was understandable seeing as Blake was pretty sure he was giving off strong 'I don't want to be here' vibes. Ugh.

But there was no way out of it and no point in delaying the inevitable, so Blake allowed himself to once again be herded down a hallway and through the doorway the receptionist indicated, the woman stepping back to let two of the four extra guards go in first, to take a peek presumably, and then Barsad and Simon went in, followed by him and Bane. The last two guards were apparently remaining in the hallway.

Yay. Two less people who were potentially going to see his ass because they would likely put him in one of those stupid hospital gowns that put said ass on full display for all to see. Because who didn't love to see people's butts, especially when you were already feeling sick or in pain. Ugh.

Growing up Blake had only known walk in clinics when it came to medical care. If you could call it that. The clinics he'd visited had been tiny, dingy, and full of fear, hopelessness, and too often apathy. Once he'd become a cop he'd been able to afford better, but had still avoided doctors whenever possible. Doctors meant questions and tests he didn't want asked or done. Hiding the fact that he was an omega on Umbra was more important than getting over a cold a few days earlier or getting stitches when butterfly bandages would do.

This room, not surprising, was the polar opposite of the examination rooms he'd visited as a kid and as a cop. Size and appearance wise it was a million times better, not at all claustrophobic or sterile. It would actually be sorta inviting seeming...if not for the exam table in the middle of the room and the various tools set out on counters that would shortly be used to poke and prod him.

The doctor turned out to be an older gentleman, his age hard to guess as he was in excellent shape, his almost completely white hair the real indication of age. That and his assistant, who he introduced as his son. The other man, a Beta like his father, looked to be about Blake's own age. Both men had a friendly demeanor, though very professional and businesslike as they both came over to introduce themselves and shake hands with Bane, then his own. Their English was perfect.

Presumably following prior orders the two guards who'd come in with them flanked the doorway, Barsad motioning for Simon to follow him off to the side so that they were also out of the way. The two doctors both glanced in the direction of the additional men in the room but wisely didn't comment as they turned their attention back to Blake. Unfortunately.

"So we shall begin right away, yes?" The older Eilish spoke with what was probably meant as a reassuring smile on his handsome face. "If you would hop up on the table, please. We will go through some questions we have for you, and you may ask what you like at any time, of course."

Numerous replies to that occurred to him, but showing his own wisdom Blake bit them back and just walked over to the table in question, allowing himself a brief moment to glare at the thing while his back was to all of them before turning back around to take a seat on it.

)

The doctor guy at Bane's compound had already asked him the important questions which had been passed on to the new guys, but naturally they wanted to rehash things because they were doctors. They would get paid more-and okay, they probably had the sense to realize that they'd be risking their lives if they fucked up here. Caution and double-checking things made sense. Poor bastards. So Blake went over how old he'd been when he presented, become sexually active, and about his recent sexual history. Fun. They also wanted to know the exact recipe he'd followed to make the Umbra he'd been using-which Blake could have recited in his sleep-and the fact that no, he couldn't tell them anything about the Umbra he'd been taking recently that Bruce had procured for him. Not that that didn't stop them from asking him to describe the color, size etc of the liquid he'd been ejected with.

Oh, and they offered him water, lots of water, because of course they wanted a urine sample. Fuck his life. They also wanted blood and X-rays too.

So far no orders to get naked though, so that was a win. As pathetic a silver lining as that was, Blake mentally fumed over as he submitted to the blood drawing without comment. At this point he was used to it.

The X-rays didn't take long and while junior doctor saw to those being developed and the blood possibly being looked over Blake found himself once again sitting on the examining table, waiting for the next insult to injury. Aka his butt being on display or his feet in stirrups. And there was going to be hell to pay later if it was the latter.

Something of that must have been in his expression, because Eilish Sr gave him a reassuring look, though wisely didn't touch him. "Easy, Young Man. The worst is likely over."

"Seriously?" Also...he was being held hostage by the League of Shadows. The worst was very much not over.

But being unaware of that fact the doctor smiled at him. "Seriously. The bloodwork and X-rays are mostly to test my hypothesis and confirm, one way or another, how your prior Umbra use has affected your ability to reproduce."

"Your hypothesis?" Bane repeated.

"In regards to what medication he's actually been on for nearly three years."

Okay...what?

Thankfully Bane asked him to elaborate.

"He hasn't been on Umbra the last three years. Or I do not believe he was, based on his description of the medication he was taking and the unexpected side effects he's experiencing now." The doctor slid his hands out of his pockets, gesturing with them as he spoke. "If he'd just been taking a 'purer' version of Umbra, for lack of a better descriptive word, the drug wouldn't have left his system already. And he would have been much sicker, his heat much more brutal. His mood swings, hormone levels, and control over himself would have fluctuated a great deal more as well."

"He's had a lot of mood swings." Simon volunteered. Because of course he did.

Also...he'd show the little brat mood swings once they got out of here. Try to out brat him, hmm?

"Not nearly as bad as they could have been." The doctor informed them. "I've seen omegas taken off of Umbra who never recovered mentally, emotionally, or physically from long term Umbra use. There's a reason they're supposed to wean themselves off of the drug once they reach adulthood."

That earned Blake a censoring look that he had no problem ignoring. He had more important things to focus on. Like, just for instance-

"If I haven't been on Umbra, what the fuck did Bruce give me?"

"Mr. Wayne gave you an experimental drug that was never allowed to go into production, much less okayed for human testing. At least not officially."

How did he know that he'd been referring to Bruce Wayne? Okay, it was a lame and old fashioned first name that most people wouldn't stick their child with anymore, but still...did this guy know Bruce?

"How do you know Wayne?" Bane demanded to know, his thoughts no doubt running parallel with Blake's.

"He approached me three years ago because he'd heard rumors about the drug we'd created as an alternative to Umbra. As you may or may not know, Mr. Bane, Umbra is illegal in the United States-and arguably for good reason. At least on paper. The drug is dangerous and harmful even when it isn't overused and abused. That a better option should be found is undeniable-just as those in the know know that all attempts to create and produce drugs that could replace it have been sabotaged. Railroaded by those who wish omegas to remain as they are. And wish to retain the right to control them and their bodies. I was part of a team that created such a drug-and Mr. Wayne wanted the formula to help a friend of his. You, I'd presume."

Meeting the doctor's gaze, Blake figured it was okay to nod. Hopefully.

"The drug was untested, it's effects unknown." Bane stated, biting off the words.

"On the contrary, we did have the data to back up our findings. That data was dismissed." A look of very old, long seated anger appeared in the man's eyes for several heartbeats before he reined himself in and continued. "Finding a better, less harmful drug to replace Umbra wasn't our original purpose. Or why we were given the grants and our funding in the first place. We were originally studying ways to reverse the damage caused by Umbra, and were having some success when we realized that with some minor changes-completely doable-we could provide a drug that had all the advantages of Umbra without the side effects. There was no logical reason why the Medical Board and the government would not approve it, or so we thought. We were, obviously, wrong. Once we asked to change our focus and tried to publish our findings we were met by harsh resistance. In the end it was made clear to the university I was working for at the time that we could either focus on making Umbra damaged omegas healthy enough to bear children...or our funding would be cut off and we would have nothing, could do nothing to help in a way they would allow. And so the focus went back to its original purpose. With much regret and bitterness on many of our parts."

Pissed off, Blake ignored his whole 'keep conversation to a minimum so no one got killed' plan and demanded to know how the Medical Board had gotten away with that. What excuse did they have?

"How is it that bills keep being introduced in your country that would allow others to decide what you can and cannot do with your body? How is it you don't have proper healthcare? The answer...because those in power seek to keep their power. And want others to know-or at least think-that they are powerless and always will be."

Friggin A.

"So this drug was tested on your former patients." Bane prompted.

"Yes. And we continue to keep in contact with them to evaluate their health and wellbeing." A slightly devious smile crossed the doctor's face, one that turned the generically handsome older man into a silver fox in Blake's opinion. "In fact, many of them are continuing to take the medication-so that we can study the long-term effects of the drug meant to help them 'recover' from their Umbra use."

"And that's what I've been taking too."

"A version of it, yes. So there's every reason to believe you haven't lost your ability to have children, and that there's been, at most, minor long-term damage."

Okay. On the one hand Bruce had done him a serious solid by gaining him access to a very hard to acquire drug that had helped him maintain the illusion of being a Beta without permanently damaging his body and taking away his ability to bear children if he wished to have them. On the other hand...if he ended up knocked up in the near future it was sorta Bruce's fault for making that possible in the first place.

Yeah...either way, Bruce was not only going to have to take them to Disney World, but Universal Studios AND Seaworld. And he was going to get to meet anyone connected with the Disney Corporation he wanted. Which, come to think of it, was probably nearly everyone. The Mouse had a seriously long reach.

But yeah. Fuck his life. Seriously.