It didn't take long to get his bags packed, and with Damian having literally nothing to his name all Jason needed was a dufflebag and a manilla envelope filled with money.
He estimated it would cost him $1,100 for papers for the two of them, passports included. Plane tickets were another issue. He thought about driving but he worried that by the time they arrived to wherever they were going Bruce or Dick would have tracked them down. As it was he couldn't guarantee they wouldn't be found either way, but he'd put up a fight. He wasn't going to let Bruce fail Damian like he'd failed himself all those years ago.
After getting off the phone with Dick, Damian's meltdown lasted an agonizing forty-five minutes before he returned to his coma like state, his eyes red from the giant tears his eyes were far too tired to cry. Jason let him alone on the dodgy carpet while he packed. He had to leave his guns behind to his complete dismay. He threw a few shirts and a pair of jeans into a duffle bag along with the manilla envelope.
He had $3,000 to get papers, plane tickets and a place for them to stay and eat until he could get himself a steady job.
He zipped the bag shut and grabbed it off the mattress before hurrying into the living room.
"Alright little guy,", he helped Damian up off the floor, "We've gotta go."
Damian stood blankly while Jason dipped into the hallway and grabbed a pair of shoes. Luckily, the only thing Jason hadn't lied to Dick about was the fact that he had kids living in his building.
"They're not much,", Jason spoke quickly and slipped the raggedy shows on Damian, "But they'll keep your feet from bleeding."
Once the laces were secured around his tiny ankles, Jason grabbed Damian's hand and led him out into the sunny afternoon.
For the first time since he was a kid he was absolutely paranoid. Every sound made him jump and he was constantly looking over his shoulder just in case.
It reminded him of his first shoplift. His mother was on another one of her binges and he needed food. He walked a good mile up to a small corner store where he'd never been and he stole a can of soup. It was an absolute wonder he hadn't been caught. He wasn't very sleuth about it and he by all means should have been caught.
Jason shook the unpleasant memory from his head and looked over his shoulder before ducking into a sketchy Chinese Restaurant.
The smell of overcooked fish made him gag. The filthy tables were empty and dingy lanterns lit the sketchy sitting area.
Standing behind the counter, a greasy man danced lazily to the radio. Jason approached the counter and cleared his throat loudly, gaining the mans attention.
"Yeah?", the man didn't bother to hide his annoyance, "What you want?"
"I'm here to make an order.", Jason lowered his voice.
The overweight man leaned over the counter, his voice carrying a repulsive garlic stench.
"Yeah?", he looked over to Damian briefly, "What you want?"
"Number seven for two.", Jason moved Damian behind him.
The man pushed himself upright and picked up the telephone receiver beside him and pressed a number. It didn't take long for the other line to pick up and the greasy man repeated Jason's order to the voice over the line. There was a brief silence and the man hung up.
"Your order is ready.", he nodded to a curtain on the far side of the dining area where are meek light broke through a rusty colored curtain.
Jason pulled Damian along. He'd done this a few times. He didn't like dealing with anyone, and a few times now the big guy at the counter had given him away. He'd have to absolutely make sure that didn't happen this time.
Jason pulled the curtain aside, revealing a much cleaner part of the restaurant. It looked like two different places. This side was rich in reds and golds, a giant mahogany table sat in the middle of the room, a man dressed in a handsome suit sat behind it, a pipe dangling between his thin lips.
"Ah, long time no see,", the man smiled creepily, wrinkles decorating his face.
Jason nodded and sat Damian down in a leather upholstered chair in front of the desk.
"You have company this time,", the man noted Damian's presence.
"Yeah,", Jason took the seat next to Damian, "Listen, I need papers for me and him to leave the country this afternoon"
The old man cocked a thin eyebrow, "Ah, a young lover?"
"No, Jesus,", Jason scowled, "He's my brother and he's sick right now. There are people looking for him so we need new papers, and I need people to not ask questions."
"Ah,", the man sighed, a puff of smoke floating thickly from his nostrils, "The notice is too short, but I think I have something."
He pulled out drawer after drawer, and shifted through papers for awhile before setting a pile of papers on the desk.
"You're lucky,", the man winked, "I have papers here. How old is the boy?", he pointed to Damian.
"Nine,", Jason lied. He'd be eleven now, but he couldn't risk similarities.
The old man grabbed a pen and filled out a few papers before nodding to himself, no doubt pleased with his work. He folded the papers neatly and slid them into an envelope. He handed them to Jason.
"Inside are your papers and passports. No pictures yet,", he took a puff from his pipe. "Yao!", he barked. Both Damian and Jason jumped and quickly the fat man from behind the counter poked his head through the rust curtains. The old man yelled something in Chinese and Yao disappeared.
"We're going to dye the little ones hair. It's much too dangerous otherwise. His eyes bear the mark of the Lazarus and we should keep him secret, no?"
Jason was taken aback.
If this man could see it, who else could? Of course not everyone knew about the Lazarus Pit, but those who did, could they see it? Was it that obvious?
Yao came through the curtain with a bottle and a washbasin.
"Yao will tend to the boy and we'll discuss further, yes?"
"He stays here.", Jason said firmly.
The old man only waved his hand. "Yes yes. Now,", he took a long puff from his pipe, "How will you be traveling?"
"Plane. I need to move fast."
"Of course,", the man smiled, smoke slowly snaking out from between his lips, "You're lucky. I have two tickets, for tonight, nine o'clock."
Jason looked down at his wrist. "It's five thirty. Nine is too late,", he glanced over at Yao who was gently massaging a thick cream into Damian's hair. He'd never seen the kid sit so still before, it was almost eerie.
"Well,", the old man laughed, "That is simply too bad. There is only so much I can do on such short notice."
Jason scowled.
"Don't worry,", the man continued, "You will stay here until then. Nobody will find you here. I like the younf one. He's pretty. He'd fetch a lot of money,", the man shrugged, "It is too bad you are not into such things."
It made Jason sick to his stomach to think that people were actually into those kinds of things at all. He didn't respond, but simply watched the dye sink into Damian's hair. It was going to be awful to see Damian without his trademark hair. The man hadn't even mentioned a color, so the entire thing was going to be a shock.
"Now,", the man stole Jason's attention, "Your papers include birth certificates, social numbers, banking information, school transcripts, and Canadian medical insurance."
"Canadian?", Jason almost laughed, "You're sending us to Canada?"
"You come to me with no notice,", the man bridged his spindly fingers together, "You're lucky I have the papers at all. So yes, Canada it is. Saskatchewan, actually."
Jason wracked his brain to find some sort of familiarity in the bizarre name, but nothing. He'd never heard of the place.
"From there,", he continued, "You will be free to go where you please. I have filled out the necessary information but I do not know what names you've been assigned so not even I can locate you."
Relief swarmed Jason. Three times he'd come here and Yao had given him away. Not this time. This time they were safe.
"Also", he continued, "In the envelope you will find a hotel key and address. The owner will ask no questions so feel free to stay as long as you like until you..as they say 'find your bearings',"
"Thank you,", Jason smirked, "You're saving his life."
"Don't thank me yet,", the man pulled out a calculator, "There's prices for these kinds of things."
Jason reached into the duffle bag by his side. The toxic smell of peroxide tugged at his nostrils, but he kept his eyes off Damian, determined to keep it a surprise for himself. It was childish but how many opportunities would he get like this?
He unzipped the ratty bag, and pulled out the envelope, awaiting the mans price.
"Well,", he started again, "Everything comes to a total of $2,900."
"$2,900?!", Jason shouted, "I only have $3,000, that's everything!"
"What can I say? You come to me last minute, demand papers for out of the country, for you and a child. People just don't let men leave the country with children, and I have to make money as well. So, $2,900 it is, take it or leave it, it's not my life on the line."
"Fuck,", Jason cursed loudly, "You're a fucking thief you know that?"
The man shrugged and collected the money Jason threw in front of him.
"Nothing in life is free."
Jason slammed the drastically thin manilla envelope back into the duffle bag. He tucked the travel papers under a pair of jeans. It wasn't the best place but he was limited on options.
He zipped the bag closed, and sat back in the chair.
Silence didn't have time to set itself between them, as the sound if water splashed against the ground. Damian let out a tiny yelp and Jason jumped to his feet.
"Calm now," the old man laughed, "Yao is simply washing the dye from the boys hair."
Looking at the wet hair clinging to his forehead. Any other day Jason would have laughed. he looked about as miserable as a drowned rat, water dripping from his earlobes.
And his hair.
Good God his hair.
Before, where his dark hair sat neatly, now a blonde mop clung to him. Yao had even dyed his eyebrows. He didn't even look the same. His eyes were green, his skin dark, and the blonde just looked so hauntingly out of place.
"He's soaking wet.", Jason ruffled Damian's strange hair.
"Not a problem,", the man snapped his fingers. "Yao will get him something to wear and then something to eat before you go. Yao will drive you to the airport."
"Why are you doing all this?", Jason asked, his eyes closely on the overweight man.
"I like the boy, and I can sympathize with him. You both bear the mark, but his eyes, they scream,", the man noted, "I have known people who come to me, begging for the locations, striving to bring back loved ones,", he sighed and lit a new pipe, "But you and I both know it is a curse."
Jason nodded and quietly accepted the clothes from Yao. He got up from the chair and peeled the wet shirt off Damian before sliding the new one on him. Jason wasn't entirely sure these clothes had ever been worn before. They were folded neatly and stiff from lack of use.
"Did you do this to him?", the man asked.
"No,", Jason said slowly, pulling Damian's scrawny legs through the jeans, "Someone else did this to him. I know what he's going through, so I have to keep him safe."
Satisfied with his job in dressing Damian, Jason sat him back up on the chair. It was eerie how well the clothes fit, but Jason let his attention wander as Yao hobbled in with bowls of food.
He set the bowls on the desk in front of the three men before silently letting himself out.
"That's a large responsibility,", the man noted, breaking his chopsticks, "The Lazarus is an awful curse, they say men hardly recover and here we have a child. How are you so sure he'll be okay after this?"
Jason looked over to his bowl and found himself unable to locate anything he recognized, "Because I was okay. I was older, yeah, and I was dead for a shorter amount of time, but I have to believe he'll be okay, because if I don't nobody will, and I can't accept that."
A/N Woooh! 2,000 words! :D What do you guys think?