Day 2 of BatFam Week 2020. Prompt: Hurt/Comfort | Underappreciated Family Members | Dark Batfam AU
The rating is for violence and blood/gory stuff.
(This one took on a life of its own and my initial plans fell by the wayside before I hit the third paragraph. THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO GET SO SAD.)
Just over nine months ago, Dick Grayson went missing. His apartment was as he left it the night he was supposed to meet Bruce for dinner in Gotham. A broken cell phone, missing its SIM card, was left on the coffee table next to the bloodied tracking device that had formerly been imbedded in Dick's arm. The entire family searched for weeks and found absolutely nothing.
Six months ago, Damian disappeared on his way home from patrolling the docks in Port Adams. Like Dick, the tracker in Damian's arm was left behind along with Damian's in-ear comms. The main difference was every piece of equipment Damian wore that had any kind of tracker in it was left behind as well. Once again, they searched for Damian with no success whatsoever.
Five weeks ago, the attacks began.
The wealthy and elite citizens of Gotham were the targets, but that was all Batman could determine. Nothing he, Red Robin, Batgirl, Black Bat or Oracle could find helped connect any of the victims, save for their wealth. Nothing was missing from their homes, but their bank accounts, mutual funds and retirement accounts were all emptied. No amount of forensic accounting could untangle the hundreds of wire transfers and lead them to the account the money was deposited into.
After eight prominent Gothamites were murdered, clues began appearing at crime scenes.
White porcelain masks and owl feathers.
And suddenly, what was once a creepy nursery rhyme from Bruce's childhood became very real, and was a serious threat to Gotham.
The Court of Owls soon became the most terrifying force Gotham had ever seen- one Batman himself struggled to contain.
No one was safe from their reach; anyone with money was bribed, intimidated and forced to join their ranks. Those who didn't give in to the Court's threats were made examples of. A prominent official at City Hall was found dead in his office, his severed head resting on his desk and 'Beware the Court' scrawled in blood on the window behind him. After a short, but intense investigation, Batman determined the man's only crime was refusing to sign over the properties he was in charge of developing in the Bowery. Instead of giving in to the Court, he'd reported the threats to the GCPD and the Mayor. Doing the right thing got him killed.
The assistant district attorney was next, after turning down the Court's request that the GCPD never approached any of their members. He was found hanging between the columns of the Gotham City Courthouse. Beneath the crude blindfold made from his bloodied silk neck tie, his eyes were missing.
While Batman worked the case from the shadows, Jack Drake worked it from different angle: archaeologist. He was on his own mission to find out more about the Court of Owls. Taking Janet to London under the guise of a meeting at the British Museum, he met with a contact to pick up something he knew would expose the Court and end their reign for good.
Though the public wasn't aware, he was now in possession of several artifacts proving the Court of Owls existed, in addition to numerous financial dossiers exposing their wide influence among Gotham's elite and powerful. For obvious reasons, he didn't tell Janet about what he discovered, and they were on their way to a secure location only he knew about- a safe deposit box in New York City under an assumed name. He knew what he had was something the Court would kill him for.
He had no idea just how far the Court would go.
They sent two Talons to Drake Manor to recover the location of the artifacts and documents. Jack had no idea they weren't alone until Janet went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. Her scream echoed through the house and Jack knew instantly who was waiting for him. They hadn't even been on the ground for two hours, and somehow? The Court knew.
Talons weren't anything like he expected; growing up, Jack assumed they were large, imposing creatures. The Talon who dangled Janet by her neck was terrifying, of course. Dressed all in black with a bandolier strapped to his chest, numerous steel blades glinting in the dim light from the open fridge door, he stood motionless, unnaturally so. Janet clawed at the hand around her throat, slicing her fingers on the Talon's gauntlets as she struggled to free herself.
Before Jack could beg for her life, the Talon closed his fist and crushed her neck. At the sound of her larynx and trachea rupturing, Jack collapsed to the floor and vomited. He was hauled to his feet by a second Talon, this one much smaller than the first. The smaller one lifted him easily and slammed him down on the granite countertop.
He pleaded with them to spare him and when that had no effect, he began babbling about calling an ambulance for Janet. The larger Talon silenced him with a single backhanded slap to his jaw, nearly breaking it in the process. Both of them stood over him, staring down through their masks. Before he could ask what they wanted, to try and stall for time because he hadn't deactivated the security system yet, the smaller Talon removed a single blade from his own bandolier and drove it down into Jack's left shoulder. The blade hit the granite beneath him with a thud and Jack screamed in agony.
"Please! I don't know what you want. I don't have—"
The larger Talon drew a blade from his side and held it above Jack's chest, turning it so it caught the light from the fridge behind him. It was long enough to go all the way through him, of that Jack was certain, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold out until the police arrived.
As the blade slipped between his ribs and into his right lung, Jack's thoughts went to Tim, and how glad he was his son was spending the night over at his girlfriend's place.
Batman arrived at Drake Manor before the police did, finding the front door closed and the house completely dark. He drew his weapon, a custom Beretta tactical nine millimeter handgun, and flicked the safety off. The small light mounted to the barrel illuminated the walkway in front of him.
"Agent A? Do anything you can to keep Red Robin from this location. Cut his link to any channels used by GCPD."
"Copy that, sir."
He swept the entry way, the living room and the office, making his way into the kitchen. Before he got to the doorway, the metallic odor of blood filled his nostrils and he paused momentarily.
"Oracle, confirm Red Robin's access to GCPD channels has been cut."
"It has, yes. And he's doing recon on a major heroin buy in Robinson Park, so he's occupied. Is it that bad?"
Bruce turned the corner and pointed his weapon into the kitchen, seeing what was left of Jack Drake on the counter. He lowered the beam of light and saw Janet's lifeless eyes staring at him from the floor behind the island.
"He's to return to the cave immediately, and instruct Alfred to confine him by any means necessary. He cannot see this."
After a shaky sigh and a string of expletives, Oracle complied.
"Copy that. Oracle out."
Bruce continued looking around the kitchen, his flashlight coming to rest on the door of the still-open fridge. Scrawled in Jack Drake's blood was a warning that made Bruce's blood run cold.
"Speak not a whispered word of them."
It wasn't the phrase that unnerved Bruce. After all, he'd heard the rhyme before, and he'd seen pieces of it at other crime scenes.
No, what had him terrified was the fact he recognized the handwriting.
It was Damian's.
The funerals for Jack and Janet Drake were held a week later, with a small, private service at the Gotham Cemetery. Tim wasn't allowed anywhere near Drake Manor until the crime scene was processed and cleaned, and Oracle secured any photographic evidence from the crime scene on her own private server, one Tim didn't know she had. Once she explained to her father how easily Tim could access the photos, he agreed immediately.
Bruce and Jason sat at the kitchen table after the service, tense silence hanging between them. Stephanie was upstairs with Tim, who was doing poorly, to say the least. He was suspended from patrol two nights prior for pistol whipping a mugger so violently with his own gun, the guy needed reconstructive surgery on half of his face. His access to the Batcomputer was revoked and he wasn't to go anywhere near the cave until further notice.
Jason removed a flask from his suit jacket and added a splash of whiskey to his coffee before offering some to Bruce. He waved it off and Jason shrugged, setting the flask between them on the table.
"It's weird not to see Dick or Damian," Jason said, watching Bruce carefully. "If anyone could get through to Tim and help him, it'd be Dick."
Bruce said nothing, only staring into his mug. Jason took a long sip before continuing.
"So I read your files on the Court so far. Based on what you've found, they haven't located the intel Jack Drake had on them. Are you worried they'll come after Tim?"
That got Bruce's attention.
"Let them try," he said quietly, his voice full of venom and rage. "I'll kill every last one of them."
Jason put his mug down and leaned back in his chair.
"Christ, Bruce. I know you all have been using lethal force for years now, but seriously, that's over the top, even for me."
Bruce glared at him and reached for the flask, downing half of it in one pull.
"They're ruthless, Jason. Absolutely ruthless. They have to be stopped by any means necessary."
Jason toyed with the handle on his mug, choosing his next words carefully.
"Even if that means killing two of your sons?"
Bruce stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He turned his back to Jason and stared out the kitchen window at the mid-day sun.
"I read your case notes and I looked through the photos. The handwriting at the first crime scene is definitely Dick's, and the note on the fridge at the Drakes is Damian's. The footprints they leave are consistent with their heights and weights, and the way they ambush their victims uses the same tactics you taught all of us. Not to mention the security footage from the Drakes' perimeter cameras shows the larger Talon jumping off the fence using the same, acrobatic dismount Dick does when he wants to show off."
Bruce hung his head and scrubbed a hand through his hair before turning around. When he did, there were tears in his eyes.
"Damian still looks to Dick before he makes a move. You can see it before they scale the fence, and before Damian began torturing Jack for information. He still seeks Dick's approval."
Another heavy silence hung between them until Jason couldn't handle it anymore.
"Look, I'm not sure why they took Golden Boy and the Demon Brat, or what they've done to them to turn them into.. whatever they are. But we need to figure out how to stop them, and fast. You know they're gonna come knocking down your door next- you're one of the last crazy-rich people they haven't targeted yet."
Bruce took one more pull from the flask and tossed it back to Jason.
"Then we'd better get started."
From the beginning, Jason had problems with Bruce's plan.
Mainly that it involved Bruce and Tim being the fucking bait.
Bruce decided, and Jason agreed with him, that the Talons wouldn't try to breach the Manor. Even in their enhanced physical states, they likely wouldn't risk going up against Batman, Red Robin, the Red Hood, Batgirl and Black Bat. Five against two on someone else's turf was still uneven odds, even where the Court was concerned. And so far, they hadn't seen any evidence there were more Talons than Dick and Damian. It didn't make sense, that the Court would only have two major weapons at their disposal, but if they hadn't used them by now, perhaps Batman and his team could take down the Court before they could make any more.
Tim took the news that Dick and Damian were the Talons murdering everyone better than anyone thought he would. He broke down, which wasn't surprising, but it was because Dick and Damian hadn't had a choice in their actions, not because they killed Tim's parents. His anger was focused on the Court.
Jason didn't care how Tim grieved, as long as it didn't get either Tim or Bruce killed on their op that night. Hopefully, there would be plenty of time to process all of this after they took down the Talons and dismantled the Court. Until then, they all had to focus on the task at hand: protecting Bruce and Tim, and stopping Dick and Damian.
Stephanie glanced at him from her spot across the table while Bruce ran through the plan again. She didn't bother trying to express her apprehension, much like Jason didn't even try to voice his displeasure again at how ludicrous this was. Cass, sitting to Jason's right, reached over and took his hand, squeezing firmly. When he looked at her, she glanced between him and Stephanie, nodding once.
Stick together.
He and Steph glanced at each other, then back at Cass, before nodding in return.
Stick together.
The plan was simple enough. Batman and Red Robin would head out for patrol. They'd get to Amusement Mile before Red Robin picked a fight with Batman. Whatever the fight was about would be determined by Tim when they got there, so nothing would come across as scripted. As soon as both Talons appeared, Batgirl, Black Bat and the Red Hood would enter from the south, cornering the Talons between the five of them and the Gotham River.
Jason took his place a few hundred yards north of the zoo, while Steph took her place to the west and Cass to the east. They listened as Tim grew increasingly frustrated with Bruce as they patrolled, criticizing him for not having any leads on the Court. Jason winced and wondered how much truth was in the accusation. He flipped his scanner to night vision, carefully surveying the area around him and seeing movement to the south. When he changed it to infrared to zero in on the targets, they disappeared. Changing it back to night vision, the two bodies were much closer than they had been, rushing between him and Cass toward Bruce and Tim.
"We got a problem, folks. They aren't throwing off any heat signatures, so no infrared. Night vision is the only thing that picks 'em up. They're heading north toward your location, B, coming from the southeast."
Jason watched as the two Talons slowed their progress and began stalking Tim.
"Tim, they're on your six, four hundred yards and closing. Cass is moving in."
He heard a beep in his ear, a call from Steph directly, and he muted his comm.
"Are you at all bothered by the fact they aren't throwing off body heat?" she asked. "Even B's suit can't hide a heat signature completely."
Jason crept forward, drawing his Desert Eagle from its holster beneath his arm.
"Whatever it means, it's not good."
"No shit," she muttered, ending their call and switching back to the group comm. "I'm approaching from the southwest, a hundred yards out."
From his vantage point, Jason could see Bruce and Tim standing on the crumbling boardwalk bordering a beach. They were nose to nose, with Tim raising his voice again.
"You knew they were targeting the wealthy, Batman. And you also knew Jack had intel that could take them all down, possibly for good. So why the hell were they left exposed like that, huh? Why did you let them die?"
Tim shoved Bruce, and they could all hear Bruce's surprised grunt at the impact. Both Talons stopped again, now watching the argument from the shadows twenty-five yards behind Tim.
"How was I to know the intel I had was accurate? Doesn't it seem a little too good to be true that Jack Drake, a part-time archeologist, suddenly found something that important? How do we know the Court didn't use that misinformation to flush out anyone who wouldn't be loyal?"
From her spot to the east, Cass crept closer to the Talons, readying two syringes full of a powerful neurotoxin, one that, if dosed correctly, would temporarily paralyze Dick and Damian until they could be restrained.
"THEY WERE MY PARENTS!" Tim screamed, his chest heaving. He fell to his knees and tried to steady his breathing before he hyperventilated.
"The alarm tripped at ten-oh-five, and the call came in two minutes later," Bruce said, kneeling in front of Tim and grabbing his shoulder. "I was in Coventry and it took me eleven minutes to get there. According to the security footage, they were only in the house for eight minutes."
Behind Tim, the Talons moved in, their claws catching the moonlight. Bruce pretended not to see them coming, focusing only on Tim.
"Why did you cut me out?" Tim looked up at him, nodding slightly to acknowledge he was ready.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to see your parents that way."
Jason interrupted, rushing toward them while keeping an eye on both Talons.
"Black Bat, you ready?"
"Yes."
He glanced to his left, seeing Steph in his periphery.
"How about you, Batgirl?"
"Not really, but let's do this."
"We're in position, B."
Bruce laid his hand against the side of Tim's neck.
"This ends tonight," he growled. Tim readied his staff and they both spun to face the Talons.
They emerged from the shadows, closing the gap between themselves, and Bruce and Tim. Jason stood just a few feet away, with Steph flanking behind Bruce. No one moved. Cass remained in the darkness above and behind them, having climbed to a higher vantage point.
The larger one stepped forward.
"Join us Bruce, or suffer the consequences."
A shiver ran down Bruce's spine. The tone was all wrong, and he sounded incredibly hoarse, but there was no denying it. It was Dick behind the mask.
"I'm sorry, chum. You know I can't do that."
The shorter one gave Dick a shove, moving to within inches of Tim before looking up at Bruce.
"You've seen what we can do, Father. It would be foolish not to take this chance."
Bruce turned and stared at Damian, fighting the urge to vomit at the coldness in his voice, remembering the security footage and what he'd done to Jack to get him to talk.
"As I said, Damian," he replied, his voice trembling slightly. "I won't join you, and you can't have Tim."
"Tt. We have no need for Drake. He's useless, as his father gave us what we needed." Despite how raspy he sounded, his insult came through clear as day and Tim clenched his jaw tightly.
Damian stepped back, taking his place next to Dick before glancing up at him. Dick nodded once.
"Fuck," Jason muttered. "Here we go."
"Very well," Damian said. "Have it your way."
Before anyone could react, both Dick and Damian had knives in each hand. Dick darted forward and swung his elbow, knocking Tim off balance, before lunging toward Bruce. Damian went low, dropping into a slide and slashing at Bruce's legs. Bruce sidestepped Damian and blocked Dick's blow, but Dick was faster and drew a second blade, driving it into Bruce chest, right below his collarbone. It slipped between the armor plates of the suit and sunk in to the hilt.
Tim came in swinging and knocked Dick back several feet to give Bruce a moment to recover. He ripped the knife out and tossed it off the boardwalk into the rocks below. Damian was about to attack from behind when Steph fired her grapple, snagging the back of Damian's bandolier and yanking him toward her. He dropped the blade he was holding and it fell between the rotted boards, into the water.
"I don't think so, kid," she said, ducking when Damian swung a fist toward her head. He grabbed another knife and sunk into a fighting stance, striking a fraction of a second later. She had no time to block it and she jerked to the left, the blade slicing through the suit and laying open a gash on her upper arm.
Jason watched for a second, trying to decide where he was needed most. Tim and Bruce traded blows with Dick, and even though he was outnumbered, Dick countered every punch, kick and jab they threw his way. Steph and Damian were on the ground, with Damian twisting her into a submission hold. He was seconds away from breaking or dislocating her elbow, making Jason's decision simple.
He raised his gun, aimed and squeezed the trigger, hitting Damian in the upper thigh. He immediately let her go and she kicked him, sending him backward. She pounced before he could recover, pummeling his face with her fists.
There was a pained cry to his right and Jason turned to see Dick standing over Tim, trying to ram Tim's broken bo staff into his abdomen. Tim managed to grab it with both hands to try and twist it out of the way, but Dick was stronger and much faster. He drove the staff through Tim's lower abdomen until it exited his back. Tim collapsed and curled into himself as Dick stood over him, ready to kick him.
"TIM!"
Bruce ripped a combat knife from a sheath against his thigh and drove it into Dick's upper back, dropping him to his knees. He pulled the knife out, ready to strike again, when Dick spun and swept Bruce's legs from under him. Before he could attack Bruce, Jason fired a round into Dick's chest and dove at him, knocking him away from Bruce.
They rolled to a stop several feet away and Jason saw Cass drop onto the boardwalk, syringe at the ready. Jason fired another two rounds into Dick's chest, distracting him long enough for Cass to stab the syringe into Dick's neck, pushing the plunger down. Dick, slightly fazed after being shot, swung his arm and backhanded Jason, cracking his helmet and sending him onto his back.
"CASS!"
Jason turned to see Steph trying to hold Damian in a reverse choke hold, her legs wrapped around him from behind and her forearm beneath his chin. Cass sprinted past Bruce taking care of an injured Tim, dropping to her knees in front of Damian.
"Sorry, little one."
She slid her hand beneath Steph's arm and jammed the syringe into his neck, depressing the plunger and stepping back. Seconds later he stopped moving and Steph let him go, fishing a length of steel cable from her belt and securing Damian's arms behind him. She then tied his feet together before binding his feet and hands.
Cass helped her to her feet, and they went to check on Tim.
"Now what?" Stephanie panted. "Do we know how long this'll keep them down?"
"Go get the truck at the north gate of the zoo."
"On it," Steph said, taking off for the zoo.
Jason finished tightening Dick's restraints and dragged him over toward the road. He retrieved Damian and dumped him nearby, but far enough apart they couldn't help each other if one of them could still move.
He knelt next to Bruce as he continued bandaging Tim's wounds. Tim reached for Jason's hand and squeezed.
"I'm fine, I promise," he gasped. "But it hurts like hell."
"We need to get you out of here, Tim," Bruce said, tucking the end of the bandage under. "I can't remove the staff here, and I don't know if—"
Bruce was cut off when he was shoved to the side by Cass, both of them landing in the dirt and rolling several feet. Tim and Jason turned to see Dick sitting up, free of his restraints and reaching for another knife.
"Oh, shit."
Jason dragged Tim behind an empty dumpster, where he propped him up and ruffled his sweat-streaked hair.
"Be good and stay here, alright?"
Tim managed a small smile, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. Jason pretended not to see it and grinned in return.
"Alright."
Stephanie was back with the truck, so he went after Dick since Bruce was with Cass. He took off and baited Dick into coming at him instead of anyone else, knocking them both through the railing by the boardwalk and onto the beach below.
Stephanie got out of the truck and made a beeline for Cass and Bruce.
"You alright? That was an impressive tackle."
She stopped abruptly when she realized Bruce was holding Cass in his lap, and she wasn't moving. He lifted his arm, revealing the handle of a knife protruding from the left side of her rib cage. Bruce rocked her gently for a moment before he looked up at Steph.
"It hit her heart, it was instantaneous."
Stephanie dropped to her knees and smothered a sob with her hand. Bruce carefully laid Cass down in the grass just off the boardwalk, removing his cape and draping it over her. When he stood up again, rage rolled off him in waves and Steph scrambled to stand and get out of the way.
"Jason! Call out!" he bellowed.
A strangled cry rang out from the beach below the boardwalk and Bruce sailed over the edge to find Jason. Steph spared one last glance at Cass, lying so still beneath Bruce's cape, before looking over at Damian. He was where Jason left him, but at this point, that really didn't mean much.
She give him a wide berth as she approached, watching closely for signs of movement. When there weren't any, she kicked at his feet just to be sure. Once she was satisfied she could grab him, she leaned down and grabbed the bindings near his hands.
They made it three, maybe four feet when Damian snapped the bindings like they were nothing. She tried to jump back, but he flipped and kicked her feet from under her. She landed hard on her stomach and immediately, he was on her back, ramming her face into the ground. With his weight centered on across her hips, she couldn't shake him off and he wrapped his gloved hands around her throat from behind, squeezing until she saw stars. She struggled against him, trying to pry his fingers from her neck, but he only squeezed harder.
Just before she blacked out, she heard three loud pops and Damian's hands fell away from her neck. She coughed and wheezed, sucking in as much air as she could before she rolled over. Damian lay beside her, three holes in the back of his head. Where the eerie mask and goggles used to be was nothing but bloody bone and brain tissue and she gagged, rolling away from him and climbing to her knees.
From behind her, she heard a wet cough. Tim lay in the dirt near the truck, holding Jason's Desert Eagle in one hand, his other hand wrapped around the staff still in his torso.
"You alright?" he asked. She scrambled over and crouched beside him.
"Well, I'm not dead, thanks to you." She brushed his hair away from his face and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes.
"Good."
Turning back to Damian, she shuddered and pursed her lips at the wave of nausea. Once it passed she looked down at Tim.
"Are you okay?"
Tim looked down at the splintered staff protruding from his gut, then back at her.
"Not what I meant, Timmers. You just shot Damian in the head. Are you okay?"
He looked around her, his expression dark and unreadable.
"Not sure. I'm relieved I saved you, but I don't feel good about shooting him."
"Where are Bruce and Jason?"
Tim gestured to his right.
"On the beach. Sounds bad, you should go."
"You'll be here when I get back, right?"
He managed a weak smile.
"Of course."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She kissed his cheek and rushed down to the beach.
Jason was lying in a heap near a pile of rocks, his helmet in pieces nearby. He pushed himself up on his forearms and coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Behind her, Dick and Bruce traded blows. The cowl was long gone, and Bruce's face was a bloody mess. She moved to join the fight when Jason yelled.
"Hey, Blondie!"
She turned and Jason gestured to one of Dick's knives half hidden in the sand. It had a heavy handle and the blade was easily five inches long, perfectly balanced.
"Don't hold back," he wheezed. "That ain't Golden Boy anymore."
Stephanie gripped the knife tightly and took off toward Dick, throwing herself at him and embedding the knife up to the hilt in his rib cage, twisting it as hard as she could. Bruce retrieved a knife knocked away from him earlier and swiped his hand under his nose to clear away some of the blood. Stephanie watched Dick take hold of the handle and pull. The blade slid out easily and he twirled it in his hand as if nothing happened.
Behind her Jason limped forward, gasping loudly and holding his kris in one hand, his other arm dangling uselessly at his side. The three of them surrounded Dick, weapons drawn, waiting to see who would blink first.
"C'mon, Dick. This is getting old," Jason said. "Either you kill us, or we kill you."
Dick turned and looked at Jason, tilting his head to the side.
"Then die."
The three of them descended upon him, their attacks coordinated and smooth despite their injuries. But for every blow they landed, Dick easily countered and landed three more. One fast, powerful kick to Jason's ribs sent him tumbling backward, landing on his back and knocking the wind out of him. For what felt like ages, he struggled to take a breath. From somewhere to his right, he heard Bruce grunt, and a horrible gurgling sound followed. Jason took a painful breath, refusing to think about how many ribs were broken, or why it was now almost impossible to breathe. Suddenly aware he hadn't seen Tim in a while, he started to panic as reality set in.
Dick was going to kill them all.
Through the panic, he saw Stephanie hovering over Dick as he lay in the sand, a syringe in each hand. Bruce lay motionless behind her and Jason felt something break inside him.
The last thing he heard before he blacked out was Stephanie's heartbroken scream.
Stephanie shifted in the wheelchair, wishing like hell she had someone to talk to, someone to joke with about how ridiculous she looked in a hospital gown, paper-thin robe, and fuzzy blue socks.
Then again, with her jaw wired shut, it was nearly impossible to talk, anyway.
The nurse wheeled her into Jason's room and covered her with a blanket, nodding politely before she left. She'd been coming in twice a day since they were admitted a few days ago, waiting for him to wake up. Hopefully, today would be the day. She carefully took Jason's unbandaged hand in hers and squeezed.
And then she began thinking about what she'd say when he woke up.
She'd get to tell him their mission was successful, that somehow, all their hard work stopped both the Court and the Talons. Damian's threat had been an empty one; the information Jack had in a safe deposit box was safely delivered to the right people, and the Court was exposed and dismantled.
But it had all come at a terrible cost.
Tim bled out before help arrived, dying in her arms as she begged him not to close his eyes.
Cass suffered the least of all of them, which Stephanie thought was fitting. It didn't make it any easier to accept, but. It was nice to know she wasn't in pain anymore.
Dick and Damian were both gone, as well. According to Barbara, whatever process the Court used to enhance the two of them hadn't fully taken effect in Damian yet, which was why Tim shooting him in the head stopped him. And after almost severing Dick's head, she injected him with the entire contents of her utility belt. Apparently, the chemicals flowing through his veins didn't mix well with the Joker anti-toxin, adrenaline, epinephrine, and fear gas anti-toxin.
The only reason she was able to do any of that was because of Bruce, and she felt more tears come. In an attempt to give her a chance he'd wrapped his arms around Dick to hold him still long enough for her to do something, anything to stop him, and that's when she drove Bruce's knife into the back of Dick's neck, twisting and severing his spinal cord, but not before he put his hand through Bruce's chest.
Like Cass, Bruce was gone before he hit the ground, his suffering at its end.
Jason's hand twitched in hers and her gaze went to his face, praying to see him open those blue eyes of his. He was still out, but the doctor said he was slowly coming out of his coma, so it could be anytime now. She hoped it would be soon.
Wake up, Jay. Alfred and I can't do this by ourselves.
His hand twitched once more, and Stephanie smiled.
The title is part of a quote from Pope John Paul II. The full quote is, "As the family goes, so goes the nation and so goes the whole world in which we live."