The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Chapter 29 - Fellow Survivors (part 1)
[rough draft 2]
That night, when Bruce took an unconscious Peter into town to get his teeth fixed, Alfred accompanied them so that he could transfer to the brownstone afterward. Stephanie fell into the butler's arms immediately upon opening the door.
"How is John?" Bruce asked in a murmur, not hearing any screams from inside.
"He ate!" Stephanie said hysterically. "It was off the floor, but he swallowed a grand total of five bites! And he slept! Twice! Once for fifteen minutes, and once for a whopping twenty! Oh, but that wasn't counting the time we drugged him for a while so he wouldn't permanently damage his vocal cords!"
Bruce felt his lips pressed into a thin line. "I know you're doing your best," he choked out. "Good job." He practically fled to the car.
o.o.o
Peter was disoriented and upset when he woke up, though he calmed down once he had explored the brownstone and determined that he could still eat even with his new blunt teeth. He seemed greatly surprised to see John and cried no matter how much Alfred and the others tried to reassure him that Jack was still alive and well. Peter lay on the floor for over an hour, drawing pictures of his 'dead' little brother. Neither he nor John acknowledged each other's existence.
o.o.o
The manor was very quiet. With Tim having decided to basically live at Wayne Tower for a while, the only ones left were Bruce, Duke, Jack, and the animals.
Bruce slept for a couple of hours and then, when he was alerted to Jack's awakening, went straight to the Batcave, isolated except for the live audio feed he was getting from Duke's comm. He kept an eye on the video footage from the Robin Monitor as he ate a couple of protein bars for breakfast and worked on assorted Bat, WE, and death-staging projects.
o.o.o
[warble] woke up alone. His heart beat fast fast fast with fear, because now [caw] was gone. Master took [caw] away when he was sleeping and killed him.
[warble] looked anyway, in the bathroom and closet and aaalll the way in the kitchen. No [caw].
"He's safe, Jack. I promise."
"Yess," [warble] said, because Duke was nice but he was Master's flockmate, not [warble]'s. [warble] had no flockmates left, except for Bear.
He looked at Bear. He couldn't protect [chirp-chirp] or [caw], and he knew he couldn't protect Bear, either. He could protect only himself, and maybe not even that. Bear had to go away soon.
That made [warble] sad, so he hugged Bear tight.
o.o.o
Duke made eggs and toast for breakfast. Jack was so very quiet that Duke felt awkward and finally pulled up a show on his tablet for them to watch together while they ate. When they finished, the teen put their plates and stuff in the dishwasher, then looked back at the little boy. Jack said and did nothing, simply sat there hugging Bear and watching the entryway. He barely reacted even when Titus came over to snuffle at his feet.
"So," Duke said awkwardly, "what do you want to do, Jack?" They had an entire day to kill. Bruce was paying him to babysit, and though Jack was being weirdly well-behaved so far, it was also creeping Duke out a little.
"Wwhen wwill Bbat'mman ccome?" Jack asked with careful pronunciation.
"He's not. It's just you and me today, buddy. All day."
"..."
"Do you want to play outside? Or play a game? Or watch something?"
After a moment, Jack took out his phone and called Tim.
"Uuugggnnngggnn," the mostly-asleep teen groaned into the phone before hanging up.
Jack called Dick.
"Baby bird, it's way too early! Call me later, okay? I gotta go. I'm so tired. I'll call you later, okay?"
Jack called Damian.
"Hello?"
"..."
"Drake?"
"Yeah," Duke called, since the child had the phone in speaker mode.
"Why is he calling me?"
"I don't know. He's bored? Lonely? Freaked out that both his brothers are gone now?"
"Drake, Grayson and Todd are perfectly fine, and I am busy."
"..."
"He was doing this yesterday, too, just calling people and making them ramble to him all day."
Damian sighed deeply. "Very well, Drake. I just finished my morning training and am now enjoying a cup of tea while I wait for my lazy, ill-bred teammates to get out of bed. Last night was not particularly productive, though I suppose the lack of criminal activity is ultimately a positive sign."
Jack spent the entire day keeping his back against various walls. He stood or crouched in rooms, traveling from one to the other by walking sideways, always keeping his field of vision as open as possible. His phone was constantly in his hand, emitting a steady stream of chatter from whoever he'd managed to get ahold of at the moment. Bear was tucked under his other arm, with Jack's hand clutching his chew fidget. At one point, he bit it completely in half and stared at it in surprise.
"Oh, crap," Duke exclaimed. "Let me get you another one, Jack, hold on- No no no, don't bite yourself! Just two minutes while I find the- Yeah, okay, that's fine, chew Bear. He won't mind. Just, keep your teeth on Bear, okay, I'll be right back, do not be bleeding when I come back, little man, I mean it."
Duke was bored out of his mind by dinnertime, and kept reminding himself that Jack's quiet, polite anxiety was better than the tantrums he knew the rest of the family were dealing with at the brownstone. He heated up one of the meals Alfred had left for them and ate it in the living room with the TV on, sitting by the wall next to Jack because the little boy refused to sit on the couch. The new chew fidget was a shredded mess by now and looked like it would need to be replaced again before bedtime.
Duke put an arm around his youngest brother and squeezed gently. "You know you're safe, Jack. I won't let anything happen to you, okay? You'll get to see John and Peter tomorrow."
"O'kkay," Jack said, polite and distant.
After dinner, Duke got the little boy ready for bed. Jack was obedient and cooperative except for the fact that he spent fifteen minutes sitting on the toilet, holding Bear tight with his face buried in the toy's fur. Duke, lounging on the bed and drafting a blog post, looked up gratefully when he finally heard the toilet flush. He went and pushed open the bathroom door again, where he found Jack washing his hands and Bear carelessly discarded on the floor.
Duke set the toy upright beside the sink. "Okay, Jack, I know what you're gonna choose, but I'm supposed to ask, anyway. Do you want a bath or a shower?"
"Plllease gi'vve me sshho'wah," Jack said, still enunciating more carefully than usual. He showered and brushed his teeth and got into pajamas without a problem, then took his stuffed animal and carried it out of the bathroom. "Ddu'kke, plllease o'ppen wwindow."
"Umm..." Duke listened to his comm for a moment. "Okay, but I'm gonna hold onto you, Jack, and we have to close it again before you go to bed."
Jack did not respond to this and did not seem to care when Duke kept a hand lightly closed around his upper arm. The child reached to push Bear out the window. They watched the toy tumble two stories down to the ground, Jack impassively and Duke in disbelief. "Bbea' ddead. Bbye-bye, Bbea'," Jack said, then trotted over to climb into bed.
"Okaaayy," Duke said warily.
"I'll get the bear later," Bruce told him, so Duke closed the window and went to read bedtime stories to Jack.
About an hour after the little boy had lain still with closed eyes and deep, even breaths, Bruce moved soundlessly into the room. Duke, reading on the divan, looked up in case he was needed. Bruce reached to administer the medication that would keep Jack unconscious and free of pain during the trip to town and the dental procedure.
He was badly startled when the child surged up with an unholy screech and slashed a fork at him that Bruce barely managed to dodge. By the time the man regained his wits, Jack had already flown out into the hall.
Bruce chased after him, a corner of his mind amazed that Jack had managed to fool them, had been prepared for an 'attack,' and now had a significant head start. In the end, though, Jack was six years old and running from Batman, so it wasn't long before he was caught.
The child let out a heartrending cry of despair when he was seized. He fought hard, staring up at Bruce in utter terror. "Ppees, ppees, I goo' bboy!" he begged. "I goo' boy, I goo' boy...!"
It wasn't the first time Bruce had had to pin down a terrified child to medicate them, but it was usually in the context of administering an antidote to fear toxin. It hurt to see such fear in eyes that were clear and aware, and he wasn't even wearing the cowl.
"Nnooooo!" Jack wept as he was subdued, completely devastated. "Nnooooo, I goo' boy, pees...I, I goo'dd boy, pll...llease...!" As soon as Bruce let him go, Jack stumbled to his feet and tried to run, but only managed three steps before staggering into the wall. On his hands and knees, he dragged himself desperately down the hall, sobbing with fear like he was fleeing from a monster in a horror movie. His strength gave out and he soon succumbed to the drug, whimpering for his mother just before falling into unconsciousness.
The silence seemed to pulse. Bruce approached and picked up his child with a heavy heart, holding Jack close in a way he knew he would never be allowed to do when the boy was awake. "You're done. Thank you for your help," he said roughly to Duke, who was watching just outside the children's bedroom with his fist pressed against his mouth and his eyes wide with horror.
o.o.o
The procedure went as well as the previous ones had. However, Bruce got a text from Stephanie near the end that said, he screams for you 24/7, and he's riling up peter. cass won't stop crying, vic is scared. alfred YELLED. i can't do this anymore bruce.
Bruce swallowed hard. 'It won't be for long,' he thought. A week, maybe, to finish all the preparations. He just had to keep John from killing himself for five or six days, then he would be 'dead' and if the universe was merciful, John would at last be able to relax and heal. I'll take him, he texted. Can you handle just Peter and Jack?
It took a while, but the answer finally came: maybe
Jack was very good for Duke today. Peter will calm down when they're reunited. I'll take care of John. You don't have to worry about him anymore. Just the younger two; can you do it?
Another long pause. alfred says yes. cass still crying
You're doing well, sweetheart. You and your sister can rest once I take John. Victor and Alfred will look after the younger children, you can rest.
There was no answer. Bruce finally texted Duke to warn him and told him where the keys to the penthouse were if he didn't feel comfortable going to stay at the brownstone or with Dick until the whole mess blew over. It technically was against the rules for Bruce to let his foster son live with anyone other than himself, but it would do Duke more harm than good to force him to stay in the same house as an out-of-control creature from another world.
Bruce felt like a mess of anxiety when he reached the brownstone. Stephanie looked exhausted to the point of anger when she opened the door, and didn't bother to greet Bruce, just turned around so she could carry Jack piggyback to a bed. She was gone as soon as the unconscious boy was settled on her back, and Victor came into view, carrying an also-unconscious John.
"Bruce...I don't know what to say, man," he murmured as he transferred the older boy into Bruce's arms.
"Peter and Jack should give you far less trouble," Bruce said shortly. "Don't worry about John. Nobody has to worry about John anymore, I've got him." He turned away, not even wanting to hear the younger man's response.
When he reached the manor, he carried the boy down to the cave for an IV since it sounded like the child had barely had anything to eat or drink in the past couple of days and Bruce wouldn't be able to inject him with anything when he was conscious. Once that was done, he laid the boy on the couch in the living room, then retreated, setting up the Robin Monitor to alert him at the first sign of consciousness.
o.o.o
Jack jerked awake with a scream, startling Peter. The older boy abandoned his pile of books to hug Jack, who was now sobbing in terror and confusion at finding himself unbound and unhurt on a soft bed in an unfamiliar room with a brother he'd thought dead.
The little boy cried for a long time, panicking when anyone tried to approach and only allowing himself to be comforted by Peter and by Bear. Even after he finally stopped crying, he continued to huddle in Peter's arms as he stared around and chewed on a wad of blanket. "Am I dead?" he finally whimpered in bird language.
"No. Big people steal us away to this good small house."
"[chirp-chirp]?"
"Gone."
[warble] hid his face against his flockmate for a while. [caw], patient but bored, groomed his hair. "[caw]," [warble] finally said, "Master chase me tie me." Peter growled. "My TEETH! My teeth?!"
"Bat took away sharp teeth."
"Why?! Why?!" But he knew why. He was defenseless now, no weapons to protect himself from bad people trying to hurt him.
[caw] wasn't bothered. He knew that you could make a weapon out of anything, and how much even boy-teeth could still hurt. "Sharp teeth, not sharp, food is still good."
"I want [chirp-chirp]," [warble] wailed.
"[chirp-chirp] is dead."
"I still want him!" He finally got up to explore, holding tight to Bear and to [caw]'s hand. He shied away from the big people but looked for all the hiding places and the escape places. "When will Master come?"
"I don't know." [caw] climbed onto a chair so he could reach the bananas. He liked bananas because they were so easy to eat. "These are good." He gave one to his little flockmate and kept one for himself.
o.o.o
John awakened to find himself back in the Bat house, though it was empty and silent. Not dark, though, because of all the sunlight streaming through the big windows. He pushed the cat off his head; he pushed and pushed until Titus finally got off of him. He dragged himself off the couch and went searching for Batman.
All the doors were locked. He couldn't get into any rooms, and Batman was nowhere he could see. He went to the kitchen that had no door to lock, but that was empty, too. He went to the knife drawer, but it was child-locked; so were all the other drawers and the refrigerator. He grabbed a chair and tried to drag it along after him, but he was too weak. He pushed the chair over. It finally fell with a satisfying/scary crash, but it didn't break apart.
No weapons. No people.
John shivered. "Bbatt'mmaAAAAANN!" He was frightened now. He hated, HATED this feeling, just like when Batman used to Laugh and not pretend, the feeling that he hated Batman and wanted to get away but was so lonely he wanted Batman just because he was a person. "BBATT'MMAAA-!"
A soft sound. Batman, looking around the corner at him, still not Smiling.
John twitched, intending to attack. But he didn't, because he was afraid. His fear kept sloshing around inside him, just then it had sloshed to the 'I want to fight Batman!' side but now it sloshed to the 'I'm afraid and want to run away' side. With 'lonely lonely there's a PERSON' all mixed up with it.
"John," Bruce said quietly.
John hissed.
"You've been calling for me."
"...Kill you."
"Would you like to fight, or would you like to eat something, or do something else?"
There was a long pause. Then John flew at him with a scream of rage, and Bruce wearily defended himself from every vicious attack the boy tried.
o.o.o
Sometimes John attacked him. Sometimes he hid. Bruce left bottles of nutrition shakes around the manor; sometimes John drank them, other times he ignored them or threw them.
Bruce couldn't stay out of the boy's sight for long, because John kept looking for ways to kill himself if he couldn't find Bruce.
One time, he lashed out at the dog, only the mittens saving Titus from injury. The Great Dane still yelped in pain at the force of the blow and then woofed so deeply and loudly that John startled away. Bruce shut the animal outside, where John couldn't get at him.
John slept only once in 30 hours, climbing to the top shelf of a linen closet and curling up there for about 50 minutes before swinging himself down again. That was the only time Bruce slept, too.
Bathing wasn't worth it. A few times, when the smell indicated the boy needed changing, Bruce had to hold him down long enough to undo the plastic and the mittens. John, soon after being released, got rid of the rest on his own (including the mouth guard, unfortunately), except for the helmet which he couldn't unfasten himself.
The first time, he was too distracted by the feel of his new teeth, kneeling there naked with his incredulous hands probing his mouth while Bruce cleaned the mouth guard and got fresh garments for him. That was only the first time; after that, it was a matter of dodging or enduring attacks to get clean garments on him, and plastic so they'd stay on, and mittens to keep John disarmed, and the mouth guard to protect his newly-repaired teeth from all the biting he clearly wanted to do.
Bruce sometimes received texts from his family and friends, asking if he and John were all right.
Fine, he always answered.
there's no way you're fine, Stephanie pointed out.
Bruce didn't reply to that.
o.o.o
It was near sunset on the second day when Bruce's phone pinged with a notification. It was one that needed immediate attention, so Bruce halted the fight and restrained John so he could check, ignoring the hoarse, furious shrieking and struggling.
"BRUCE WAYNE!" the visitor screamed into the camera at the gates, "LEMME IN! I NEED TO TALK TO BATMAN! THEY TOOK MY DAUGHTER! LEMME IN!"
TBC