Chapter 13

A/N: hey everyone welcome back! Remember, I just own the story. Nothing else is mine.

/comms/

Telepathy/Dreams/Flashbacks/take a guess

Gotham City, September 10, 9:30EDT

Mike sighed dropping his bag while glaring at the offending pile of tools sitting on his table beside his newest project. Henry always did joke that his absentmindedness would come to bite him in the ass. He was just expecting it to be over something stupid, like homework.

Sighing, he grabbed the bag, moving to one of the other welding tables. He just spent hours cleaning up messes, he didn't feel like cleaning up another. Setting the bag on the table, he pulled out his findings, spreading them out on the table.

So, he had the chip from his brother's room, the mystery vials and journal from Lizzie's room, and the mystery book that had been hidden of a stuffed animal Mike had gotten from his father when he was three.

The question was which one he wanted to start with. He figured the chip would have to wait for the Cave. It had better security and Batman's paranoid ass would be more prepared for whatever could be on that thing. Which left the book, the journal, and the test tubes.

He'd probably need some lab equipment for the test tubes. Which could also probably be found at the Cave—that place seemed to have everything. The equipment he had in the workshop was meant for robotics, not…mysterious glowing liquids.

Meaning, until he visited the Cave when he was certain Batman wouldn't be hovering nearby, the main focus of his investigation would be into the bound stacks of paper he found. Both of which would undoubtedly provide more questions alongside their horrific answers.

Maybe he should flip a coin. Heads read his father's potential demon book. Tails read his father's demented journal. It was as good a plan as any.

Releasing another sigh, Mike massaged his temples. No, playing childish games would only stall things. He just needed to get this over with before someone found out about his little escapade. Because when that happened, he was going to be grounded for the next month. They'd probably confiscate the stuff he found and give it to Batman so he can get frozen out of the case again.

So, until then, he might as well look into whichever one would get him the most info. And his money was on the journal.

Experiment 1:
Subject: Mysterious liquid that appeared during the disposal of subject 1.
Appearance: Pale silver-red metallic liquid similar to mercury.
Source: Unknown
Nature: Unknown.
Attributes: Appears to be magnetic as it clings to the nearest metal and coagulates like liquid mercury.
Experimental Focus: Determining the nature, attributes, and source of subject matter.
Method: First part of the experiment will determine the flammability, toxicity, irritability, corrosiveness, density, melting point, and boiling point. Second part will determine source and nature.
Flammability Results: Yes. Never leave near an open flame or even high electricity. It can and will burst into flames.
Toxicity Results: In rats doses greater than 10% of their body weight proved fatal. Results were propagated in further tests conducted on cats and dogs. However, this toxic effect does not appear to occur in multiple doses. Reason why remains will be further explored in further experiments.
Irritability Results: Not an irritant.
Corrosiveness Results: Not corrosive.
Melting Point Results: After five hours of trying to methodically solidify a sample, said sample was dumped into liquid nitrogen and still came out as a liquid. It doesn't have one.
Boiling Point Results: Whatever temperature fire spontaneously appears. This shit is stupidly flammable.
Density Results: 20.99g/mL (surprisingly dense for a liquid).
Source Experiment: This substance was found during the disposal of the remains of subject 1 and was coating the exosuit used for controlled transportation and disposal. Other exos were examined, however, only transport spare was affected. This leads to the conclusion that the material was obtained from the body itself. It was coating inside of suit after burning. An interesting conundrum as this material is highly flammable but only appeared around fire, leading to the conclusion that due to this, the material has not been discovered yet. An empty suit was burned as a control: No material appeared to be coating the inside. Due to this result, it can be inferred that the presence of subject 1. To test this, the process was repeated with a live rat and lit on fire for about 30min. The inside was too charred, and the process was repeated as time was decreased in 5min increments. At 15min, the experimental subject was dead and the material could be found inside the burned exosuit helm. This process was then repeated three more times with a cat, a dog, and a rabbit. Subjects who were already dead, produced little to no material what so ever. It was also conducted using different conditions: with different types of metal and without metal. In all trials without metal casings present, none of this "remnant" was produced. However, trials with silver, gold, and titanium produced the more than previous trials. All trials produced similar results, however, due to size, the amount produced differed based on the temperature, and duration of the fire. Further testing determined electricity produced twice as much as fire. In conclusion, this "remnant" is a high-density, highly flammable and conductive liquid that is produced by a living creature during its dying moments in the presence of electricity or fire.
Nature Hypothesis: Essence of life? I know it sounds preposterous, but all conducted trials on subjects that had been dead for some time did not produce any of this material. For this substance to be made, a subject must be dying or freshly dead in the presence of fire/electricity and something metal. This "liquidation" does not appear to occur in other circumstances, as the knife was examined and only a strange black material to be studied later was obtained. Why this occurs is still unknown. But if my theory is correct, then this material could be the key to not only healing all wounds, but also immortality itself.

More experiments will be done to determine the authenticity of both this experiment and my hypothesis.

Mike slammed the journal closed. Running his fingers through his hair.

What. The. Fuck. Did. He. Just. Read?

Seriously.

This was insane.

The beginning, that made sense. His father was a renowned robotics, engineering, and even biotech expert. Of course a new material that could potentially be detrimental or beneficial to his work would be something he'd investigate vigorously. But…this…this was madness, beyond madness even.

Mike's gaze flickered to the vials sitting nearby, lingering on the pale glowing ones. There was no way this…

He ran a hand down his face. Ok. Ok, he was tired. He'd been up all night. Heck, he'd been up late the past few nights patrolling with his mentor or hanging out with the team or working on the new prototypes with Henry in the shop.

Canary or Henry, maybe both, had mentioned something like this before. Something about a lack of sleep making it hard to have things make sense. Which was weird because he'd been working on little sleep for years. And this stuff with the team required staying up for days at a time sometimes. He should be able to focus.

Though a voice that sounded suspiciously like his mentor made a point of reminding him of his emotionally draining night. He wouldn't be able to function being more exhausted than normal.

Yeah, he was going to need a nap and a shit ton of coffee before he tried to tackle this insanity again. Because if what he just read was right, then…then the GCPD's current body count was nowhere near being close to done.

Because William Afton was not going to stop killing. Not until someone killed him.

-.-

Gotham, September 22, 5:55EDT

Something felt off.

Mike wasn't sure what, but something didn't feel right.

Sighing, Mike turned on his side, wincing at the ache in his stomach from the movement. Settling himself into the new position, he gazed out the window watching the flashing lights of the foggy city. Mike felt exhausted. He wasn't sure why as he'd basically just taken a month-long nap; but he figured it had to do with his meds or something.

Though his uncle did mention when they were chatting that he was probably going to feel tired because he was healing. Who knew healing would take so much out of him?

Which is why it was surprising that he was having trouble falling asleep.

Was it just nerves? This was the first night he'd be spending in the hospital without his uncle there—well, while he was conscious anyways. But he could handle it. He'd slept alone in a house for years. He wasn't a child. And, frankly, the man probably needed to sleep in a real bed rather than continue to strain his back. One night alone wouldn't kill him.

Besides, he'd probably have nurses and doctors come in and check up on him regularly. So it wasn't like he was really alone.

He could hear the door to his room click open, sliding shut quietly as if not to disturb him. It was probably Uncle Henry coming back to check on him. Ignoring the warm feeling in his chest, he closed his eyes, trying to make it look like he was asleep. Mike listened as the soft footsteps got closer to his bed and he felt eyes look over him. However, something about the gaze boring into him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Something wasn't right.

Opening his eyes, Mike rolled back onto his back, starting to sit up, "Uncle Henry—" seeing who stood in front of him, his voice caught in his throat. "D-Dad—" a hand pressed against his face, covering his nose and mouth as he was shoved back into the bed and stifling over whatever he was about to say.

"Shh, we don't want to cause a scene now, do we?" William whispered, holding up a syringe.

Mike froze, eyes widening as he looked at the liquid within. Whatever that was, he did not want it in him.

His father growled as Michael clawed at his chest, trying to force the man off of him. His lungs began to ache as the palm smothering him pressed harder into his face, effectively cutting off his air. It wasn't until his arm started to feel cold that Michael realized that his father had indeed managed to inject whatever he had into him.

Shit.

Bucking in the bed, Mike hoped he was causing enough of a ruckus to gain someone's attention. His father looked amused as he looked down at him, a familiar smirk forming on his face as he watched his struggles. Black crept onto the edge of his vision, slowly consuming it as his lungs continued to seize. Mike wasn't sure if it was because the lack of air or the unknown drug in his body.

His lungs burned. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe again. He was going to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to be that thing's puppet again.

Suddenly, he could breathe.

Gasping for air, he barely noticed the side of his bed shift as he blinked a few times trying to refocus his vision. "There we go, that's it," a voice soothed as Mike became aware of fingers gently carding through his hair, "I bet that feels much better."

It did feel much better. He could breathe now. The hand running through his hair felt nice. It made him think of his mom. Mom used to rub his head like this. He missed her.

"You don't need to worry about anything right now," the voice spoke softly, "Daddy's here."

His dad? Turning his head slightly, he felt his cheek fall into a warm palm as he looked at the blurry figure looming over him. Mike's vision seemed to fade in and out of focus as his body suddenly felt strangely heavy. He was vaguely aware of his father stroking his cheek, but everything seemed…foggy.

It wasn't until his father's hand tugged at the hem of his hospital gown, that something in the back of his muddled thoughts began to scream in warning. Mike wanted to back away, but his body wouldn't respond. All he could do was lie there and whimper as William opened the front of his gown, revealing his bare chest.

"Shh," William hushed, patting his hair, "shh, it's ok. It's ok." Tears burned at the corner of Mike's eyes as something dug into his chest painfully, scraping the top layer of his skin away. "That's it," his father whispered, kissing his forehead, "You're doing so good."

That only made his eyes sting more when his father started to carve at his flesh again. He didn't understand why his dad was doing this. His actions and words were the antithesis of each other. It hurt. But he couldn't move. He couldn't get away.

"Good boy," William praised, kissing the crown of Mike's head. The new cuts on his skin began to burn painfully as something damp was dabbed against them, making the teen whine. "You're doing wonderfully." Arms gently wrapped around him, pulling him into a warm chest. His father tucked Mike's head into the crook of his neck, softly shushing him between gentle kisses into his hair. "Stay still," his father whispered, and Mike whimpered, anticipating more pain. He did feel a soft sting in the side of his neck, but, it didn't hurt as much as the cuts to his chest. "It's ok. I know it hurts. But, it will be over soon."

Mike made a small noise, letting his eyes drift shut. The warmth felt nice, and the pain from his neck didn't feel too bad. His chest still stung, but the warmth radiating through him seemed to curb it somewhat. He did feel a little lightheaded, but strangely enough, Mike couldn't bring himself to care. His dad was here. Everything would be ok as long as he was there.

"See how easy this is when you don't fight me? When you listen?" his father spoke softly, pressing his nose back into his hair, softly running his hand up and down Mike's back. He couldn't recall the last time his father had held him like this. He forgot how soothing it was, to cuddle against his dad. To know he was there to scare away the monsters. "This is much better isn't it? Not forcing me to hurt you?"

Oh, well that explained why he hurt earlier. He couldn't remember what he did, everything seemed foggy. But, whatever it was, it probably warranted his punishment. His dad always said he didn't have to care about him. At least he cared enough to whip him back into shape.

"I wish you could always be like this: so behaved, obedient," William mused, "You're such a good son like this. Alas, nothing good ever lasts. You aren't going to remember this, just like the last few times. And you won't remember next time either." He leaned forwards, and Mike felt his father softly kiss his forehead, "But, know that I am the only one who will ever love you. You belong to me."

The teen managed to push a small noise out, wanting to show his father that he understood. William seemed to pick up on it, because a smile crossed the man's face as he stroked his cheek. Warmth bloomed in the teen's chest, he made his dad happy. Things were always good when his dad was happy.

Mike felt another soft sting in his neck, the skin feeling cold as he suddenly started to feel sleepy. Somehow, through the haze, he felt his body relax further into his dad's hold. He felt tired. Cuddling into the safety of his father's hug, Mike finally allowed himself to close his eyes. Through his last tendrils of consciousness, he thought he could hear his dad whisper, "Sweet dreams baby boy, sweet dreams."

A shout escaped Michael's throat as he shot up in bed, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked around the room, half-expecting to see the familiar form lurking in the shadows.

He'd had some crappy nightmares before. But this one…it was right up there with the one where some demonic Fredbear was stalking him, trying to claw its way into his room. Though nothing was going to top the one that forced him to relive…that night.

Slowing his breathing, Mike flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. No way he was going back to sleep now. With a sigh, he turned on his lamp and rolled over to pull the journal out from under his pillow. He could at least make some progress in looking over the notes.

Experiment 42:
Focus: Effects of Remnant on the Human Body
Subject: Michael Alaric Afton
Age: 8yo
Height: 128.2cm
Weight: 25.8kg
Previous Ingestion Experimental Findings: Doses through samples injected into food/drink started at 5mL increasing in 5mL increments for a week. Initial doses produced little physical effects; however the subject became more irritable for approximately 2-4hrs after dose. After doses greater than 15mL, subject began experiencing stomach pains, bloody noses, and other symptoms akin to food poisoning. Subject also complained of food tasting "strange." Ingestion is not recommended.
Injection Findings Over 1 Week: First dose of 5mL was injected into subject via the left jugular vein. No observable effects. Second dose of same volume was injected into the subject's right carotid. Subject appeared to be more clingy and tired than usual. Third dose was increased to 2 doses of 5mL into the right brachial artery. Subject remained tired but became more irritable. Fourth dose of same volume as 3rd was injected into the left brachial artery. Subject was lethargic and clingy. Fifth dose was increased to 3 doses of 5mL into right jugular. Subject was more active than during previous days, still irritable though. Sixth dose was injected into left carotid. Subject returned to regular energy levels but remained more irritable and sensitive than normal. During a tantrum subject managed to rip a head off one of his brother's stuffed animals.
Determinations of Experiment: Injections are more effective and can be increased to higher doses faster than ingestion doses. Most effective when injected into carotid arteries. Further observations will be conducted with increasing doses to determine long term effects.

Neck stinging, Mike reached up to rub the spots he'd been stabbed with in the dream. Ok, so maybe it was a little more than a nightmare. It was probably just his brain trying to make sense of everything he'd been reading recently. But still…just when he thought the bar for William Afton's depravity was on the ground, the bastard had gone to get a shovel. The man had not only murdered children for his own insane claims of finding the key to immortality, but he had experimented on his own son, and probably his other children, with this soul juice.

It made him feel sick. His father had been drugging him for years. Giving him the potential essence of children. From the looks of it, even just small doses over a short period had affected him somehow. Just how much had he changed because of this experiment? Was this why he'd become such an ass? Because he'd been unknowingly made that way by his own father?

"Mike?" he heard Henry's muffled voice from the other side of the door as the man knocked. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," he groaned, reluctantly sitting back up, he shoved the journal under his sheets, shivering as he felt sweat run down his back. "Just had a bad dream."

There was silence from the other side for a moment, before he heard the door click open. Henry peered in, looking like he just rolled out of bed himself. "Another one? You've been having a lot of those lately," the man sat at the end of his bed, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Guess…I'm just worried about school."

Henry raised a brow at him, adjusting his glasses with a knowing look. "Son, you're a terrible liar."

Even though he knew his uncle was trying to be helpful, Mike couldn't help but feel offended. "Hey! I managed to fool my teachers, classmates, and neighbors for years, I'm a great liar!"

"If you were you would've kept up the lie longer than that."

"God damnit."

"Language," Henry chided playfully, before he turned serious again. "So what's really going on, kiddo? These nightmares have been getting worse recently. Is there something wrong on the team? Did someone say something? Do something? Oh God, was it a reporter? Because I swear to God if I hear another word about Ms. Vale trying to meet you, I'm going to file a restraining order—"

"Henry," Mike interrupted, patting the man's shoulder. "It's none of that—wait, did you say Vicki Vale? She's the hot one, right?"

The blonde man facepalmed. "Michael, focus."

"I'm perfectly focused."

"Yes, on Ms. Vale, who you will be staying away from young man," Henry said, giving him a pointed look. "She hasn't gotten this far on looks alone. Both Batman and the cops investigating William don't want any leaks about the case. He can't track the investigation if he doesn't know it's going on. And as the state's star witness, you won't be answering any reporter's questions for the time being."

Pity. It would've been cool to meet her. But still, Mike did not mind being able to avoid the pack of piranhas known as the press. He would much rather deal with supervillains.

"I hate to interrupt, sir," a voice interrupted, prompting both to look towards the doorway where a butler stood observing them with a raised brow, "but I believe Master Michael has to leave for school in half an hour. And you, Mr. Emily, have a meeting with Mr. Wayne to discuss the upcoming charity gala."

"How long do you think it takes to get dressed?"

"Do you want breakfast, Master Michael? If so, I suggest you get moving."

Beside him, his uncle made an exaggerated sigh, "Well, I suppose duty calls. You packed everything right? Books? Pencils? Pens? Notebooks?"

"Yep, all in there."

"Any problems with the watch?"

"Not when I've used it."

"Good," Henry sighed, leaning over and hugging him. "You, have my phone number, so feel free to call me if you need anything. I'm always here to talk if you need it."

"Thanks," he said, leaning into the hug.

He could practically feel the man's smile. Slowly, the man pulled away to let him go, "Now, I might not see you before you head out, but I'll make sure there's plenty of coffee ready."

"Love you."

Mike felt Henry freeze, and the teen himself paused after he realized the words left his mouth.

Shit.

He did not mean to say that.

Maybe the man would think he was talking about the coffee? He always made his love for caffeinated drinks very well known.

Not that he didn't care about his uncle. No, Henry had been amazing these past few months. Man was probably the most stable male parental figure he'd ever had. Of course, his biological father had set the bar quite low. So low that someone trying to go below it would be limbo dancing with the devil. Though…it wasn't like Henry hadn't been going above and beyond what he'd been expecting.

His uncle had paid more attention to him in a few months than anything he'd ever gotten from William his whole life.

So, he really should've seen the bone-crushing hug coming. "Love you too, son."

This time Mike froze, watching as his guardian ruffled his hair, exiting the room to go get ready for his meeting.

Mike should probably get ready too. It would be easier to process…whatever just happened after he had some caffeine. A lot of caffeine.

-.-

7:50EDT

Mike slug his bag over his shoulder as he got out of the car. Waving goodbye to Efrem, he strode towards the collection of buildings. It looked pretty good for just having been partially destroyed by his teammates last month.

But then again, most people who came here were stupid rich. So the repair costs were probably a drop in the bucket to a place like this.

His old school might've just used a liberal amount of duct-tape and some spackle to fix a problem that was too expensive. Like they had had a set of bleachers in the second gym that could not come out no matter who or how many people tried. They eventually decided to leave it, but that didn't stop his classmates from breaking onto campus and drilling random shit into the plastic benches to make the world's most dangerous indoor rock wall. And, true to his old school's motto of just hoping for the best, they left it at that.

It was still there last time he checked. It had even become part of the curriculum too. Only three people had broken bones from slipping. So, all in all, it seemed to be going pretty well.

"Mike!"

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he turned watching as a familiar blonde approached. "Hey Bette."

"Excited for your first day?"

"Not particularly."

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll love it here," Bette reassured. "Now we are waiting on one more—there she is."

Following the excitable blonde's gaze, Mike's brows shot up as his gaze landed on a familiar head of absurdly long blonde hair standing in the middle of the courtyard, tugging on her skirt uncomfortably. "Artemis?"

The girl jumped turning to look at them. Her gaze landed on him and her brows furrowed. Clearly she didn't recognize him like this.

"You know each other?" Bette inquired.

"Uh, yeah," Mike spoke. "We go to the same martial arts class."

He glanced to the archer, watching as her eyes widened a fraction as she finally made the connection. "Mike? Jesus, I almost didn't recognize you. You look…"

"Put together like a normal functioning person?"

"Normal."

There was a cough to his left and Mike turned remembering Bette was standing beside them. She crossed her arms, looking at them with a smirk. "Care to introduce me?"

"Oh, duh, Artemis, this is Bette."

"Hi," Bette waved. "I'm your new student liaison. Welcome to Gotham Academy."

"Uh, thanks. I'm Artemis," the other girl replied, "but you knew that."

Bette opened her mouth to talk again when a random boy ran up, grabbing Mike and Artemis with a smirk. "We'll laugh about this someday," he said taking a selfie with them before darting off.

"Uh…what the hell?"

"Who was that?"

"A freshman, ignore him," Bette sighed, rolling her eyes as she motioned for them to follow.

"Well that was weird," Artemis muttered, tossing another glance around the courtyard.

Mike nodded in agreement, "Yeah. Is it just me, or did that kid seem familiar?"

"It's just you."

Rolling his eyes, Mike pulled out a piece of gum, popping it into his mouth. "So, what're you doing here? I thought you lived in Star City with your uncle?"

Artemis paused, biting her lip, "No, I actually live here with my mom. I just don't want to explain how I found out about all this stuff it's, uh, complicated."

"Ah." If anyone got complicated, it was him. His life was nothing but complicated. "I get that."