Here's another chapter… and By the way, has anyone read RHtO 0? What the heck was up with that? Bruce literally had TWO line bubbles… again, I must say: What the freak DC?LLMLfhbshfs
Anyways. *coughs* Here's the chapter. For those of you wondering, I've mashed the pre-reboot and New 52 Jason's. He's keeping his headstrong nature and origin story with the wheels and the Batmobile, but he's taking on the All Caste and his troop of Outlaws (Roy and Kori). If you have any questions or concerns let me know. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything DC does (though sometimes I wish I did).
Chapter 12
The stone scratched at their knees with each desperate crawl for escape. The collars had long been forgotten, only the slight burn remained. They had managed to finish off the wall in mere moments, behind that had been the officers' break room, and beyond that, the sealed vent that led to the pipes below.
Tim had managed to smuggle in a pint of liquid nitrogen (seriously, don't ask me how), and now all they had to do was smash through it. They were through the opening and hustling to find the final exit point in no time at all. Jason pushed himself to keep going and something inside him, some indomitable will screamed for him to live at any cost.
So Jason moved, ignoring everything but the path ahead. His mind had other plans. It hurled images at him of being cold and hungry, of being absolutely alone and afraid. And then there was anger.
His head snapped towards Bruce, but the other man was far ahead. Jason would have to wait. In the meantime, Jason allowed the memory to boil in his blood. He remembered being alone on the streets, though the images were damaged and fragmented… he remembered crying out for Bruce, but that the man had never come…
Something about the abandonment killed him, the separation hurt him. It attacked him even as he tried to throw the memories away, to focus on the here and now. He wasn't sure if it was his personality or his mind just screwing with him, but he couldn't let it go.
That's when the tunnel widened and they all landed in a group. They would move on momentarily, but Jason took the moment to grasp Bruce's shoulder tightly. "We need to talk."
Bruce paused and waved the others on, even Barracks. Jason lowered his voice enough to growl out the next words, "Why weren't you there for me?"
The older man's brow wrinkled in confusion, reflected in his eyes. "What?"
"I remember being alone, damaged… Calling out for you, why weren't you there for me? You're supposed to be my father, yet you weren't there… I need to know why."
Bruce sighed, obvious grief and shame taking hold of his eyes. "You… you died Jason… I wasn't able to save you… But you came back, you wandered the streets and I… I never knew, I couldn't help you…"
The sheer agony in the statement halted the anger in his mind. The words themselves caused his shattered brain to fly back in on itself. He didn't remember any of it, but he could almost feel the cold string of attacks that broke his bones and the heat of a flame that burned his skin. A strange disorientation took hold, but he simply nodded to the older man.
Bruce put an arm around him and pulled him close. "I'm sorry, Jason… But I'm here now."
Jason nodded again and staggered with his father towards the tunnel once again. He was still angry, there was no doubting that. However, he could resign himself to patience. Seeing the heart-stricken expression on Bruce's face had convinced him. His father deserved better.
Jason could still feel love and compassion in his heart for the man. He couldn't just let that go… could he?
…
"This is your place?" Dick asked incredulously.
Jason nodded, walking in unsteadily and tossing his jacket on the counter. He wasn't overly concerned with the organization of the place, but something told him that the higher order helped him think. Something about the place set him at ease. His muscles, screaming at the overuse, relaxed and his heart slowed down a pace.
"Yeah. This is… this is it." He didn't know why, he just couldn't force out the word "home". Bruce stepped inside quickly and laid Tim down on the couch. Damian closed the door with finality.
They were alone… together.
Jason smiled to himself. One big happy family, right? It was laughable.
"Do you know if you have any bandages here? A first-aid kit, maybe?" Jason was racking his brain for a response when his body just moved. He arrived at a side door where the bathroom was and reached into the cabinet there. The first-aid was expanded and had several articles that would help Tim, including antiseptic.
He tossed the kit to Bruce and plopped down next to him. Slowly they began to wrap the boy's injuries.
"Uh… Jason?" The young man turned to look at Damian when he spoke. "You… You have a message."
He raised his brow, then stood. He allowed Dick to take his place by their brother and made his way to the blinking machine on the counter. Sure enough, he had a message.
Jason lifted the phone off the holster and splayed it out. He pressed three buttons (*97), without fully comprehending how he knew them. The speaker button was the final key.
"You have, one unheard voice message." The mechanical, female voice boomed. "First message: 'Shut up, Kori, I'm leaving him a message right- Hey, Jaybird. I don't know when or if you'll even receive this, but… We're here. We found the Cave just like you said. It took us a little longer, but we met up with this cool British dude and… anyways… We're here. We're waiting for you, buddy…' End of voice message. to hear the message again, press-" Jason hung up.
His heart clenched in on itself. Roy. Kori. His friends. They were waiting for him. They were counting on him. He remembered these two. He remembered his feelings for them, he remembered his leadership over them.
He remembered that they mattered.
Even as Jason looked up at the men that were supposed to be his brothers, his family, he could not for the life of him recall their time together. How was it possible, then, that he could evoke with practiced ease the adventures he'd had with these two people? It didn't make sense.
The room seemed frozen in place, all eyes were on him.
He let out a breath he honestly hadn't realized he'd been holding in. "So. I guess our next stop is Wayne Manor."
…
The manor. That sounded so good right now. It was strange. Before shit hit the fan, the manor had been the last place Dick had wanted to go. Back then – it seemed so long now... – Dick had been so damned preoccupied with being angry with Bruce. Now, Dick didn't ever want his family to be broken again. Not even with Jason.
He had to admit that seeing Jason's safe house had been a bit of a shock. Dick expected to see a filthy junk heap , but the sight that greeted him was actually much better than his own apartment. It wasn't on par with Tim's OCD madness, but it was… militaristic in fashion. He had never considered Jason as a soldier, or maybe he'd just never wanted to see him in that light.
He remembered Jason as being headstrong and brash, but the boy had always been smart. He was never without a purpose. He was never without a cause. Jason had fought till his dying breath for what he saw as justice, and he'd never really failed Bruce in that respect. Jason had become patriotic to Bruce's cause, he'd become a soldier at night as Robin.
And he'd died as a soldier, but more than that, Jason had died as Bruce Wayne's son.
Dick remembered the day of Jason's funeral speculating at how few people had actually come… Sure there were Bruce's 'sympathetic' business partners, and the members of the Titans… but really it was only ever their small, makeshift family.
Maybe that was why it had been so dizzying to hear his best friend's voice on that message. A voice that had so often been tinged with drug use and lost priorities, yet this time his voice had been clear and… god, was that admiration? Much like all the rest Dick had never, in a million years, seen Jason as a leader.
Sure, Dick had heard rumors of Jason's return from the abyss, he'd even heard of Jason taking on a team that called itself 'the Outlaws'. The surprising part was that Dick's own friends (one of them an ex-) had joined his little group. Roy and Kori… He missed them both. Their adventures together with the Titans, Roy's constant shenanigans, Kori's… well, Kori's everything.
He missed all sense of normalcy.
He took a deep breath. Tim had been wrapped in bandages now, his wounds cleaned, and finally he had been anesthetized. Jason sat on the floor next to Dick, with Damian leaning heavily on Jason's side.
Bruce was keeping close vigilance over his downed bird.
Tim… Why had it been Tim?
…
They were making good time, Tim had said. The boy was just behind them now. The exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours was finally taking its toll on the boy.
"Come on, Tim. We still have a ways to go before they realize we're gone."
His brother pushed himself to go faster, and soon they were in near-perfect cadence with one another. Only Jason and Bruce lagged behind now.
That was why the shrill siren caught him off guard. Dick jumped at the sound, the repetition of calls booming through the tunnels and hurting his ears. That's what pushed the family into a sprint.
"Shit. I thought we'd have more time than this…" Tim cried.
"Drake! You imbecile! How could you have miscalculated?"
"don't worry, Tim. We'll get out of this." Dick assured.
"Less talking, more running." Bruce shoved both his boys forward to pick up their speed, with Damian just behind them.
Jason ran, trying desperately to keep up, but chronically fell behind. His injuries were slowing the group down. Dick fell back and wrapped an arm around the young man's waist and pulled Jason's arm around his shoulders to support his weight. "I gotcha, lil' bro."
Jason grunted, but made no other response.
If Dick had not dropped back behind Tim, he might have seen it coming.
As it was, the family stepped out of the tunnels and into the crisp night air.
And Tim was shot.