POSTHUMOUS

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— Heavens, you should be resting! — Alfred said in an irritated tone, walking up and down the Batcave laboratory.

— ... Well — Batman murmured in a hoarse and broken voice, saving the words more than usual. He didn't want to lie down and do nothing, not after what happened. She preferred to stand beside Tim, watching him, blaming herself for letting one of her children get hurt again.

— ... Feeling well!? — The butler repeated when he was already in front of one of the computers — Define well, Master Bruce, because I would never be well after a new principle of infarction caused by narcotics and followed by respiratory intoxication!

The bat didn't even bother to answer with any excuse, he preferred to spend the energy he still had to untie his son's hair from his forehead - Timothy was unconscious, hyperventilating, while the machine was trying to stabilize his oxygen supply.

— If it weren't for Selina sending all that information, I don't know what would have happened to you two... — Alfred muttered as he put a little more liquid on the younger's respirator, disguising the sadness he felt.

— ... Should have been... me — Bruce said quietly, not making it clear whether he was talking about the death of his girlfriend or the state of his son — ... Damian — he hissed, walking towards the exit stairs.

— Don't you dare leave here before new analyzes! — Alfred warned, seeing that injured man with a bat costume nothing but the little boy who had been caring for several years — I will check Master Damian as soon as we are done here, he must be asleep — He shook his head from side to side, sighing soon after — Heavens, I don't even want to imagine the questions he's going to ask about her...

Bruce just fell silent and stared at nothing. He was never in favor of his girlfriend accepting the role of mother in his son's life. As much as he liked to see the two together, he knew that a sudden separation when Selina left would only do even more harm... and now he didn't even know how to explain to his son that she died.

— Lie — asked.

— Lie... — he repeated exhausted, causing the night watchman to lie on the stretcher in that area and put on the oxygen mask again — ... May Damian forgive all the lies I tell him... — he whispered, preparing what he would need to sew the bat's back.

— For... his good — Batman said quietly, allowing himself to relax at least while that medication took effect.

— I hope he understands this one day, Master Bruce — Alfred muttered discontented, taking off part of Batman's uniform to be able to score points.

The two were silent, making the vent that helped the two heroes the only thing audible in that lab. As the minutes passed, Bruce ended up giving in to fatigue and fell asleep. Alfred, who was trying to keep his mind occupied to the limit, devoted himself to designing more serum for the two patients - Joker had changed the gas formula, used more aggressive agents, making the total elimination of the toxin much more difficult.

Anyone looking outside would think it was a quiet and routine dawn, despite the catastrophic circumstances.

That little moment of peace, so to speak, was interrupted when Red Hood came down the stairs of the Batcave like an elephant fleeing the slaughter. The boy was desperate, running around the place looking for help, taking his little brother in his arms.

— ALFRED! — he shouted as soon as he saw the oldest.

— Christ... — the elderly man sighed seeing the state they were in: Jason covered in rainwater, mud and blood... Damian's blood, blood that left a trail where they passed. He was shocked, stopped, unable to accept that it was all real and not a nightmare.

— ALFRED, HELP DAMIAN! HELP! — the boy asked, or rather, ordered while he invaded the laboratory and started typing something on the panel with one hand.

— ... But what hap...!?

— USE THAT THING AGAIN!

— I can't use that, not after collateral damage and...! — Alfred fell silent when Jason aimed one of his weapons at him. The butler knew that boy well enough to know how out of it he was to do that — Master Jason...

— Damian. Is. Dying — he said slowly, pressing the last button he needed with the part of the pistol charger — You will save him again, Alfie — he warned, aiming again at the butler as a chamber with a greenish liquid emerged from the false wall.

— ... Master Jason, the collateral damage was very extensive!

— SAVE HIM! — grunted and shot at one of the screen next to the butler — SAVE MY BROTHER!

— ... Put he inside — Alfred asked approaching them. He felt his eyes sting from reliving that, especially knowing the risks, but if it was Damian's only chance - as it seemed - he would do it.

With shaky and tired hands, the butler began to prepare the child for the procedure. He cleaned the dried blood gently and tried to sew the skin in the best possible way - closed the wounds, doing her best to make it look like they were never there. It immobilized him where he needed it, where he got it.

— ... Fuck, this is taking too long! — Jason said taking off his hood and then running his hand over his face to brush his hair away, not caring if it was soiled with blood — Isn't it just throwing it in there!? It is not how it works!?

— ... No — Batman replied, finally managing to get up from where he rested - already without the oxygen mask. If it weren't for that, Jayson would still not notice that there were other people there.

— We don't know yet if it is safe to go beyond that... — Pennyworth warned — ... It took him weeks to wake up, we don't know how he will react this time.

— It's the only way to save him, hurry up! — Hood pointed the pistol again at the butler he loved so much — DO IT!

— No! — The bat took a few steps towards them.

He was annoyingly slow. Mobility was impaired too much, and this was probably the only reason Batman was unable to deflect or grab the red hood Jason threw at him and hit him in the nose. The unexpected blow forced him to stop and try to regain his balance.

The rebel was beside himself...

— DO IT, ALFRED!

— Master Jason...

— SO I DO! — he said, grabbing the butler by the shoulders and tossing him away from that capsule. Jason had already completely lost track of limits, or worse: he was willing to step over anyone.

With the care that nervousness allowed, he held Damian against him once again. The little one was pale, highlighting the marks of that near-death, deep marks, spread over the body, head and face. The green eyes, now dull, were frozen looking at nothing...

— ... Sorry, brat — Jason whispered, leaning over that capsule and immersing his brother completely in the lush liquid - he was still hugging him.

Bruce tried to reach them in time, but failed.

Alfred leaned on the benches to get up and watch that living nightmare from afar.

Jason activated the taser on the armor itself, giving the necessary electrical discharge to activate the compounds in that healing mixture. Batman, even though he knew the components of the Lazarus Well, had not yet achieved the primacy of making the liquid reusable without an external agent.

In the first few seconds, Damian remained inanimate. However, when the taser charge was near the end, the child began to give the first signs of life: he choked on his own blood while trying to breathe; hit the brother with closed fists, even though he had no idea why he was fighting; He opened his eyes, green eyes and alive this time, which showed terror and hatred. Soon after, he went back to sleep, just sleeping, with his body in a state of placidity while his brother held him.

— ... I... I did it... — the rebel whispered, releasing his brother to Alfred's care and letting himself fall to the ground. He was tired, stunned, both from the adrenaline draining from his body and from having received part of that electrical discharge.

— ... Son — Bruce called, extending a hand to him when he was close enough.

— ... Son? — the boy repeated in a mocking tone — Are you going to start calling me son now? Are you going to worry about me too, Daddy? — said the last word as if it were an offense — YOU LET YOUR CHILD DIE!

— I did not want...!

— HE WOULD DIE ALONE AS I DIED! — Hit the bat in the hand, getting up on its own — ALONE!

— Master Jason... — Alfred started, but was interrupted before any other words.

— Have you tried to imagine how horrible it is to die without ever feeling loved? You only notice it when you die alone! — He already had reddened eyes from a contained cry — ... You, Daddy, can only love someone after the person dies! You loved your parents, you loved me and then you started to love Dami... but we just come back from the dead that you stop caring! — He took the pistol again, trembling, pointing at Bruce.

— Jason! — the butler screamed in panic, trying to call that rebellious child back to him. If he hadn't been supporting Damian, he would have slipped between them.

— It is true! — He pointed the gun at his head this time — YOU WANT EVERYONE TO DIE! — the boy shouted angrily, looking at Batman as if he were an enemy.

— No! — Bruce used the nervousness he felt like energy to get the gun out of his hands - it was easier than expected, it was a bluff.

The family rebel was looking at his father without wanting to accept that he would really save him, he wanted someone to be able to blame for everything bad that happened in life... Batman, Bruce, or whatever personality that inhabited that tired body now, he simply looked at his son as if he were a child who had just made fun of - he didn't know whether to scold him, ask for forgiveness or just ignore what happened.

Both were silent, facing each other.

The few sounds that were in that laboratory were from the machines, including the one that helped young Timothy to breathe... that was, until, suddenly, the boy took off his mask, sitting on the stretcher and started laughing. They were loud and husky laughter, with features of despair accompanying them - they lasted as long as the boy's lungs managed to hold.

— Gentlemen, I ask you to leave — Pennyworth said almost between his teeth, placing Damian on the stretcher next to his brother and hurrying to attach Timmy's mask again.

It would be a long night for the butler.

Todd did as he was told and left with dragged steps, without even picking up the gun and hood that were thrown on the floor. Batman went after him, worried:

— I don't want anything bad to happen to you... I never did.

The rebellious son stopped, stared at the bat and took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket; he tried to light it up, only getting even more irritated when it didn't work - he was soaked in rain. Like yet another of his childhood tantrums, he threw his lighter and cigarettes at the Knight.

Bruce let it be, patient. Not because he knew Jason would make a mistake or something, but because he would wait until his son could get rid of that bitterness that had corrupted him for years. A beloved pack of cigarettes and a lighter would not hurt anything, but those accusations hurt, especially with the circumstances of that night: the heart - already broken and out of order - no longer knew how to deal with the feeling of loss, no more... not beyond all the ones it had.

Todd laughed scornfully as he took the other pistol he was carrying. He was out of ammunition - he had to spend everything he had on solving his own affairs. He threw the gun at the watchman's feet - he didn't even try to hit him this time - and resumed the conversation:

— ... I removed the brat under a chandelier... — he murmured — ... Do you have any idea how much I screamed for help? The brat... how much the brat must have screamed for help!? I was alone! ... ALONE! YOU ABANDONED HIM!

— I did not want...

— ... I was so scared! — The boy took a deep breath, as if he were about to scream, but whispered: — ... I was just a child, he was... and it was my fault...! — He stared at his father with eyes full of tears, as if he wanted to cry out in pain and the voice just wouldn't come out.

The worst thing for Jason, besides blaming himself for Damian getting hurt again, was reliving the death of the child he was. A lonely death, of abandonment and guilt. Batman, who approached him as slowly as he could in order not to startle him, said only what should have been said every time Jason went through one of those crises:

— It was never your fault, son...

— ... But I wanted to... go ... I had... to go...

— You were still a child, Jason. You disobeyed me, was inconsequential, but you was just a child — He reached out to him again — ... I never knew how to take care of children...

— And don't know how to cook...

— And how to cook — Bruce tried to smile, as devastated as he was now — I promise I'll learn this time... — Carefully, he rested his hand on his son's shoulder. Jason not trying to push him away was satisfying enough, but when the boy held his arm so he wouldn't pull away... that surprised him - the first good surprise that night.

— ... You never learn to cook — he said quietly.

— This time is different — he whispered, promising himself that he would really do everything he could to be different.

The Knight of Gotham decided to start trying to show a little more the affection he felt for his children: he got closer to Jason to hug him. It was impossible for him not to see his son just as a rebellious child... he should have hugged him more often.

— ... I will not trust you this time — the boy stared at him. He was serious, his eyes overflowing with resentment - there was fear, pain, anger... but the resentment at that moment was overcoming everything — Everyone who trusts you ends up dying alone, B...

— Son...

— It's too late to try to fix things, Daddy — he bit that word bitterly, breaking free of the hug and doing the first act of a deplorable revenge for the child - be it Damian or himself -, a short act with wide consequences:

He used the little charge the taser still had against his father. It was not much, but what was necessary for Batman to fall on his knees, squeezing his chest as if his heart was going to escape - what was necessary to hurt what was already hurt, to punish those who already blamed themselves.

Jason left his father there, alone, suffering almost nothing compared to his children.

Alone for a little while, because soon Alfred would go after them and, if it wasn't, Dick would go - the jet was entering the cave again...

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NOTE

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Yeah, Batman knows the recipe at the Lazarus Pit, but he doesn't know how to make a microwave popcorn... Jokes aside, it is true that Batman is one of the very few people in the DC universe who knows the recipe for these pit.

In Batman Beyond n. 44, it is revealed that he has a chamber with this liquid, when he uses it to save Damian after an attack by Zero - the healing fluid is better than any treatment that a hospital can offer.

Lazarus Pit are wells of normally green water, capable of healing, rejuvenating and even resurrecting people - Ra's al Ghul has survived through the centuries using them. Even though it looks like something miraculous, it has an expensive price to use: over time, the health of those who use them is damaged (varies a lot, but the state of momentary fury is almost always present).

For those who are not used to not have enough preparation for these waters the state of fury / insanity can be permanent; for those who use it frequently, the water is no longer so effective (that's why Ra's died in the animation Son of Batman).

The creation of these pits is extremely difficult because it is necessary to know the recipe and have places on the Ley Lines available (a complex term to explain, it is like a route between important areas geographically and historically).

There are many variants involved in the Lazarus Pit: most of them become unusable after the first use, but there are some special ones that can be used over and over again (since you can convert them into "inexhaustible"); side effects may not appear or be strong enough to make the user a slave; for resurrection, the death must be recent (the time varies, from hours to months); etc.

Note to note: Jason was really a tough kid when Robin. In addition to that super cute scene of Bruce deciding to stay at home with him when the boy got a bad flu instead of patrolling, there were other times when Jason was unable and decided to help (I vaguely remember one where he had a broken leg, but I couldn't find the comic before posting the chapter).

Even though he was a rebel, he was very helpful to Bruce. One of my favorite examples is in The Messiah, when the wonder boy goes down to the manholes behind the bat - there is a very funny scene when seen out of context in this story: Robin slapping Batman in the face!