REMEDY

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Alfred needed a vacation.

In so many years of this vital work, it was the first time that he had succumbed to the recurring thoughts of going to some remote island or country house away from civilization and spending at least a few days away from everything and everyone - away from problems. However, before any possibility of making that wish a concrete truth, he needed to take care of the children. He wanted everything to be fine and in order, because then he would be able to relax.

For the time being, when everything was in chaos, those thoughts are what kept you in your head. Only then, distracted, could he put his emotions aside and pretend he was just doing a routine job...

Immobilize, examine... these acts had already become routine, in fact, but the situation was completely different: Damian hadn't been hurt fighting crime or something like his brother - he didn't even remember how to fight - he got hurt inside the house, alone, in a terrible "domestic accident".

They were neglecting that boy. All. Which did not lessen the guilt the steward felt.

— He... well? — Tim asked almost without a voice when he managed to catch his breath again. He was still sitting, looking at Alfred and his younger brother.

— Stable vital signs, wounds with good healing... — The butler walked to the monitors — ... fractures appear to be over 80% healing.

— ... Did he do well?

— It is impossible to be sure — he sighed — Apparently he is fine, as he was the other time, but we have no way of knowing when he will wake up again or what will be the collateral damage... — Alfred stood next to Damian again — I fear that the only certainty about his condition is that we need to remain optimistic.

— ... His memory... back? — the boy ended up letting out a low laugh after that. Fortunately, the effects of the laughing gas were already passing.

— Master Tim, as much as it pains me to say something like this, I must admit: his memory is the least important compared to other sequels — He passed his hand through the child's hair in a soft caress, they were still wet with that viscous liquid. The only remaining mark of what happened was a small scar on his left eyebrow, the only place where the butler thought he didn't need stitches before the procedure.

— ... B? — Timothy asked while lying on the stretcher once again.

— ... Master Bruce? — For a few minutes, Alfred had completely forgotten about the state of Batman — Heavens, that he has not been on patrol again! — he muttered, leaving the laboratory willing to keep that inconsequential at rest even if he needed to chain him to one of the stretchers.

The butler didn't have to go very far to find the bat lying on the floor, trying to crawl up the stairs while, visibly, he was in pain. Alfred didn't want to say anything, let alone ask what had happened - it was obvious, cigarettes, a lighter and a gun were lying nearby, evidence that Jason was really out of his mind. He simply tried to help the knight to get up and walk to the laboratory once again.

— No... — Bruce murmured. He tried at all costs to go in the opposite direction, towards the exit, no matter how much he needed to lean on Alfred to stay upright — Jason!

— Master Bruce, please! ... Think of Damian, you need to be well to take care of him! — The other seemed to ponder the possibilities and then risked letting go of the butler and going to the stairs again — Master Bruce, he is not even able to stand! How do you think you'll be able to run around after him!? — Pennyworth asked making it clear that his patience was lacking.

— Need! — was justified with a hoarse and failed voice.

— And I need a vacation! — said angrily — Master Bruce, he will come back sooner or later...! Let him go, think about what you did while...!

I Need! — he repeated once more, he was nervous.

— Need what, B? — Dick asked approaching them and trying to understand what had happened there - he had just arrived — You are terrible... what happened? — When the boy noticed the things lying on the floor, the trail of blood and mud, he was nervous and asked again: — What happened here!?

— Many things... — Alfred sighed — It doesn't matter now, what matters is the state of that stubborn one! He refuses to go with me and I don't even have the strength to do it anymore!

— Your brother! — Bruce grabbed Dick by the shoulder, leaning on him in the best way he could. He felt his heart close to the limit, his vision blurred as well as his thoughts, all mixed up… — ... Go... Beh-hind him!

— Which brother? — Grayson held him — Tim, Jason? ... Damian? No, not Damian... or yes? — I was almost as confused as my father.

— Master Jason left and is out of control! — Alfred answered for Wayne.

— Jay is always out of control! — Dick tried to make one of his jokes, but a stronger grip on Bruce brought him back to the cruel reality of that dawn:

— He... hurt himself... — he tried to explain, but his throat barely allowed him to speak a complete sentence. Much to the chagrin, Nightwing held him a little more tightly and started taking him to the lab once again. Desperate, Bruce asked: — Go!

— I will go, but you also need care! — said in a tone serious enough to keep Bruce silent and cooperating.

Back in the lab, Batman - what was left of him - was forced to lie down on the last stretcher that was still free. Beside him was Damian, unconscious, still wet with viscous, greenish liquid; he just looked asleep, just like Tim, who was on the first stretcher.

— I will want to know everything that happened when I return... — Dick told Alfred while gently stroking the younger brother's face, wondering what would have happened just by seeing the small scar — I will go after Jason before he does anything nonsense... — he murmured tiredly, now going to Timothy — I left my communicator with Strfire, I will use Tim's for now.

— Keep us informed, Master Dick — asked Alfred, watching him walk away.

— Ah, I almost forgot: Jon is bringing her! She was infected by the Happy Gas, but the antidote I gave didn't work right! — he warned without even looking back, he wanted to find the family rebel soon.

— Bringing... her? — the butler repeated without understanding — ... Could it be...? — It allowed a silly smile to appear on the face, with hopes that it could be...

— Selina!? — Bruce interrupted the older man's murmurs, sitting on the stretcher and struggling to distinguish the two approaching figures, visible on one of the computer screens by the security cameras: one was that of little Jonathan Kent, the other he had more hope than certainty.

— Master Bruce, restrain yourself! — Pennyworth asked while forcing him to lie down again.

The two were silent and waited for the visitors to approach. They were already close, but they were constantly pausing - probably because of the uncontrolled laughter that the gas caused. When they finally arrived at the lab, it was impossible for the butler to disguise the clear disappointment while asking:

— Please, young Jonathan, could you take your mother to that chair over there? — indicated the accent in which he usually sat when he needed to take care of a sick person — Do not let the mess make a bad impression, things are gradually resolving and...

— No! — Bruce grunted, unable to contain his frustration and forced himself to sit on the stretcher once more - if he had more strength, he would have risen from there and gone after his son or even Selina's body. I needed to do something to feel useful, to feel that I still had a reason not to die too and just leave Batman alive.

— No? — Superboy faced Wayne and the butler then, denouncing how distressed he was feeling — Dick said they would help my mom...

— And she will be great! — Alfred tried to sound as optimistic as possible.

— I would only look great after a bath with salts, Pennyworth — The journalist barely managed to finish her sentence before a fit of laughter and coughing started. She had to dwell on her son even more to be able to stand.

— Is not fair! — Bruce looked at Lois once again, just feeling his heart break even more because she was not his beloved cat there, alive.

— It's stress, ignore it... — the elderly asked in a whisper.

And so, the butler started pacing back and forth examining important exams and data, preparing yet another antidote form, trying to put something or other in place;

Timmy enjoyed a heavy, well-deserved sleep;

Lois, sitting in the chair next to the millionaire, received the blessed medication - the only one that had a complete effect, allowing her to undo the stupid smile and end the involuntary laughter;

Jon tried to control his curiosity and just look at his shoes or his mother - tempting as it was to find out what happened to Damian and why Batman was crying in silence.

Everyone obeyed, pretended that Bruce wasn't even there - in fact, he seemed to be in a deep trance as he murmured meaningless words and allowed the tears to finally flow. The millionaire, of everyone in that place, was the only one who was not receiving care, as there were no remedies for the sadness or pain of the loss, it was up to Bruce himself to deal with the bitter defeat he felt as he thought best:

— Son... cat... alone... Jason away... — Bruce murmured, brooding over the bitterness and waiting for the moment when she would finally become the strength he needed to get up and do something useful — ... It should have been me — he sighed.

— Bruce, you are starting to scare me! — Lois commented — What is all this for? It's gonna be okay!

— Nothing is okay! — he answered her in a cold, almost harsh way, making it clear that he did not want motivational conversations - he did not want to be taken out of that anguished meditation.

— Of course it is! — She coughed a little before continuing: — Where's the "inconsequential father" who wants to take care of the children?

— You have no idea how...

— I don't even know what happened to Damian! — interrupted him — Not this time or the other: I don't know what happened and, honestly, I don't want to know! The only thing I don't understand is why you are there, suffering, instead of recovering to help him!

— I don't need to recover, I need...

— Yes, you need to recover! — She interrupted him once more, dodging coughs just to get his attention: — Look at those bruises on his back! — He got up and got closer to Bruce - at this point, she no longer even remembered that she needed to keep her breathing mask.

— Mom... — Jon called her as low as he could - if Lois was starting to get scared, Superboy was already sure that the sad Batman is scarier than he is angry.

— Selina takes chances to find a way to help you and for what? For you to stay there, doing all this drama, instead of just getting some sleep!? If you get worse, who will take care of these children? Alfred, as always!? You are their father!

— Mom, I think he still doesn't know about...

— She is dead, my son in a coma, one is in a terrible state and the other left the house uncontrolled! Do you think I can sleep!?

— Yes!

Lois Lane's persuasion was second only to courage - stubbornness or stupidity, most convenient. There, she did not see Batman and not even the millionaire who could be said to be "owner" of Gotham, she saw only a sad friend who was not acting as he should have acted in that situation and, as a good friend she is, needed to intervene:

Taking advantage of the bat's exhaustion, she practically dropped it on the gurney and pinned it lying on its shoulders. As irritated as he seemed, Bruce was unable to push her and get up - if he had some strength, he would have been up long ago.

— Mom! — Jonathan tried to scold her, but was ignored.

— ... I'll get a tranquilizer! — Alfred warned, without making it clear whether it was for the bat or the journalist. He hurried over to one of the cabinets to look for the blessed sedative.

— Let me go, Lois! — Bruce grunted.

— ... Mother, let him go! — Jonathan tried again, embracing the uncontrolled journalist in a vain attempt to stop her.

— No way! — He laughed, maybe still under the influence of gas or because he simply wanted to laugh — You will stay there, lying down, even if I need to tie you to this stretcher!

— ... Tie to the stretcher? Clark will love to hear about it... — Selina said with some grace, watching the whole scene from the entrance to the laboratory. She didn't have to be as silent as usual to surprise them, after all, she got there at the beginning of that discussion - nobody noticed her, not until that moment.

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NOTE

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And you guys, thinking that I was going to kill the sexiest cat in HQ's in an Extra! If I'm really going to kill Selina, believe me, I'll be much more cruel. Now about killing characters in Extras: there are some that only appear in Extras, like Starfire, for example.

Not that I'm going to kill more people...

But let me be aware: those I kill now, still dead.