Chapter 30

A/N: Hey everyone, welcome back! Good to see y'all again. Glad to see y'all enjoyed the last chap, despite it being kinda rushed. I've been distracted with classes. Hopefully soon I should have more free time to work on stuff soon. Remember, I just own the story, none of the characters are mine sadly.

BE WARNED, THIS CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE GRAPHIC

/comms/

Telepathy/flashbacks

Gotham, November 13, 21:13EDT

"I still can't believe I missed the first League-Team team-up!" Mike groaned as he sat on a rooftop beside Robin, taking a sip of a shake they got from a nearby Bat-burger.

"Eh, don't feel bad, KF missed it too," the Boy Wonder reassured.

"Yeah, but he got to save an entire country and managed to singlehandedly convince the Queen to get rid of Duke Puke's diplomatic immunity," the older boy retorted.

Robin shrugged, taking a sip from his own shake, "It's not your fault you were sick, Rem."

"Still doesn't mean it doesn't suck," Mike said leaning forwards. "So, how was it? Fighting alongside the League?"

"Eh, honestly, kinda whelming. We spit up into teams and went to fight different ice fortresses. So Kal and I went with Flash, Aquaman, and Batman. So really it was like fighting alongside our mentors."

"Ah, so how was the party?"

A wide grin spread across Robin's face, "Well, KF finally learned that Miss M and SB are dating."

"Oh come on! I missed that too!" Mike exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "C'mon! Details!"

"Well, ok, so we're all sitting in the living room, eating cake and talking. So, I'm talking with Zatanna and Artemis and we notice that M'gann is handing KF presents and food, meanwhile he's hinting at wanting something else."

"Oh."

"Yeah, anyways, we saw he wasn't taking a hint so Artemis volunteered to go over there and she told him."

"Bet he was thrilled about that."

"Still worth the look on his face."

Mike laughed, "I would've paid to see that."

"Wish I had footage to show you," Robin agreed.

The elder chuckled, taking a sip from his drink. "So," he smirked, "you were talking with Zatanna huh? Don't tell me your flirting was as bad as Wally's."

Robin's face turned bright red as he shoved him with a free hand, "Shut up man!"

"What? It's cute."

"Dude!"

Grinning at the younger teen's expense, Mike took another sip of his drink. "So, as fun as hearing about team drama is, I don't suppose there's any particular reason we aren't hanging out at the Cave?"

"Right!" Robin raised his arm, pulling up his holo-screen, "So, you remember when all the adults disappeared of the face of the Earth?"

"How could I forget?" Mike deadpanned, scooching closer to peer over the younger boy's shoulder.

"Anyways, I was looking into a report from STARR Labs about some research item of theirs going missing. Their footage was all scrambled from the two different loops created by the split realities, but I did manage to find this," Robin said clicked on an image. "Look like something your da—William would make?"

Yes. It did.

Because his father had created it.

If Robin said anything else, Mike didn't hear it. Instead, all he heard was the blood rushing in his ears, as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. Barely muffling the haunting, staticky laughter of the demon that continued to infiltrate his dreams despite everything he did to forget.

He had hoped it had been gone. Never to return.

That it had crawled into some hole and turned to rust.

Because then that would mean it couldn't be back. It meant that that thing couldn't come after him again. Couldn't use him as its toy again. He would no longer be a puppet bound to the twisted whims of the abomination that had destroyed his life.

And yet, there it was.

Just like last time.

"The answers you're looking for are on the other side."

Mike bit his lip, glancing back in the direction of the exit. This…this was a bad idea. He could still smell the tang of iron in the air and hear the drip of blood from one of the bodies on stage falling to the floor. He…he needed to go. To call the cops. Someone more qualified than he was to deal with this.

Stepping away from the door, he crouched down, flashing his light as he scanned the room for Foxy. He hadn't seen the damn fox so far, but he wasn't willing to take chances. Not after last time.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the room. But, otherwise it remained suspiciously quiet as he made his way to the maintenance vent.

"Don't leave."

Mike paused. He just needed to take a few more steps. Then he'd be home free. He could just hand the situation to someone else. Find a new job and forget this ever happened. He obviously wasn't going to find whatever it was his father wanted. He just needed to cut his losses and find another job.

It wasn't like his efforts were going to earn the man's approval anyways.

"Please…help us."

Against his better judgement, Mike turned around and went back to the door. "God, I'm such an idiot," he muttered. Pushing the door open, he stepped through gaze flickering around the room for the answers Circus Baby had promised.

Instead, his attention was snapped to the door as it slammed shut behind him.

"Hey!" Racing back to the door, he pushed against it, trying to force it open. "What're you doing?!" Punching the metal, Mike ignored the racing of his heart as he whirled around, looking for another exit. "I thought you wanted me to help you!" he called out, gaze anxiously flickering around the room, "Let me out!"

"Don't worry. You are helping us."

Before he could ask what she meant, something grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the door. Mike grunted as his back slammed against the ground as cold metal constricted his wrist, dragging him across the floor. "Hey! Stop—Ah!" he yelped as his trapped arm was suddenly yanked up violently, almost popping the shoulder out of its socket as he was forcefully yanked to his feet.

"You are in the scooping room now."

This had been a mistake.

"Funtime Foxy has already been here today."

Breathing quickly, he felt his blood run cold as he looked up to see the thick metal tendril ensnaring his wrist, creeping down his arm. Reaching up, he tried to pry the thing constricting him off. Only to have his efforts thwarted by a second tendril descending from the ceiling, forcefully yanking his free arm above his head, tying his wrists together.

"Funtime Freddy had already been here today."

"W-what are you doing?! Stop! Let me go!"

The tendrils ignored his pleading, instead they continued to slither down his arms. He shivered as the cold metal slid under his shirt, scratching against his skin as it pulled the fabric up as the coils returned to wrap around his throat.

"Ballora has already been here today."

Two more cables emerged from the darkness, snagging his ankles.

"Get off me!"

His cries were once again ignored as they coiled up his legs, effectively immobilizing him.

"Circus Baby has already been here today."

Mike's heart pounded in his chest. They weren't listening to him. He didn't know what these things wanted. But he did know he didn't want any part of it. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. "Why…why are you doing this? Just let me go. Please."

"I've been out before. But they always put me back. They always put us back inside."

"You want out?" Mike panted, struggling against his bonds, ignoring the metal digging into his skin. Blood welled up as his restraints cut into his skin, trickling down his body and soaking into his shirt. "I can get you out. I-I can help you."

"There's nowhere for us to hide out there. There is nowhere to go. Not while we look like this."

The teen's heart dropped with a sense of impending dread. "W-what?" he spoke, the question coming out more as a frightened whimper. Shivers ran up his spine as he felt the tendrils shift, squeezing tighter as if to keep him still.

"But…if we looked like you…"

Oh…oh God. Trembling, his gaze fell on the scooper dangling in front of him. Its sharp claws level with his stomach. Why…why was he here? What did they mean? What did they want with him?

Breath coming in short pants his gaze flew around the room as he renewed his struggles, desperately trying to escape. Hope rose in his chest as he saw a figure approaching from the other side of the glass. "Oh, thank God," he murmured, vaguely aware that his cheeks were damp. "Please! Help! I'm trapped! I—they—Please get me out. Please, I'll do anything. I don't wanna die. Please."

His rising hope was crushed as the figure came into the light.

"Please, don't do this," he whispered.

The coils around his throat tightened to a painful degree, cutting off his air and silencing any further protest.

The monstrosity on the other side tilted its head in mock innocence, its clown mask smiling at him, "Don't worry." A clawed hand reached up, wrapping around the lever. "The scooper only hurts for a moment."

The light above the scooper went red, an alarm blaring as the lever was flipped, sealing his fate.

"No! Stop! Plea—!" he screamed as blinding pain exploded in his stomach. His abdomen burned as the sharp metal barbs cut through his skin, tearing at flesh and organs. Just as violently as it hit, the claw curved around, retreating back to where it had been resting.

And all he could do was watch as it tore away as his viscera dripped over the side, splattering bits of him on the floor.

His chest burned, the muscles spasming as he attempted to breathe. Instead, blood spilled over his lips, his screams reduced to wet choking sounds. At long last, the coils finally released him, letting his body crumple to the floor.

The impact knocked a weak cough from him, causing more blood to sputter from his mouth, trickling down the side of his face to drip into the dark puddle growing underneath him.

He was cold. Yet, his chest burned as the rest of his body began to tingle with a warm, almost soothing, numbness.

He…he was dying…wasn't he?

Maybe it was for the best. It wasn't like anyone would care if he just disappeared. Everyone who ever cared for him had already thrown him aside like the trash he was.

At least this way he could see Charlie again. He could see his brother and sister. He could see his mom.

He missed them.

At least now he could tell them how sorry he was for everything. For not being a better friend. For not being a good brother. For being a horrible son. He could take all the pain in the world for that chance.

It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.

"You won't die."

Mike forced his eyes open, feeling blood pool in his throat, gurgling up every time his body tried to breathe. The world around him was fuzzy, a blur of shapeless colors fading to grey as his body began to give out. Unfortunately, the world snapped back into focus as another explosion of pain rocked his body.

And the first thing he saw was the smiling mask of the monster that did this to him.

There was something shifting under his skin, tearing into what was left of him. All the while the mask tilted its head innocently, acting as if it had done nothing wrong.

Coughing up another mouthful of blood, he weakly reached up, pushing at the thing now looming over him. It was a futile effort, he knew that. But it was all he could do to try to fight his attacker. To keep it from doing…whatever it was going to do to him for as long as he could. "G-get—get off m-me."

"Don't worry." A claws hand rested on his chest. "I will put you back together."

"N-no. S-stop."

"Don't cry," a claw traced his cheek, "I promise, it will all be over soon." Talons trailed down his chest, and he almost swore the thing was grinning. "You won't feel a thing."

A hand reached into the gaping hole in his abdomen, and Michael screamed as his world exploded in agony. Metal coils dove into his flesh, stabbing through joints and ripping through muscles. Cracking bones as they wrapped around them, stealing control away and leaving him a prisoner in his own body.

And Mike had never wished for death more than he had in that moment.

-.-

Batcave, 22:47EDT

Robin hugged his legs as he sat next to his friend's bed, waiting for him to wake up so he could apologize.

He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Showing what he found to Remnant first. He should've known better. He had worked with victims of violent crimes before. He knew that there were certain things that could trigger a visceral response in them. He should've gone to Batman or Canary first. They knew more about the case than he did. They might've been able to see this coming.

Instead, he had run straight to his friend with the new break in the case.

And what did that do? It triggered a panic attack so severe had Robin not seen it start he would've thought that Mike had been hit with a concentrated dose of fear gas. It was so bad that Bruce had heard his friend's screams from a couple rooftops away even before Dick had been able to call him.

They had eventually managed to calm him down long enough for Batman to sedate him. But that didn't mean the sounds of his friend's begging screams wouldn't be haunting him for a little while.

Or at least until he could show Mike how sorry he was.

"Recognized: Black Canary—13."

From outside the door, Dick could hear Dinah's footsteps echoing loudly in the cave. "What happened?"

"Post-Traumatic Stress reaction," Batman's tired voice replied. Dick could just imagine his mentor sighing as he removed his cowl to run a hand down his face. "A bad one."

"I figured, but I need more to go on than that."

Dick heard another sigh. "Robin made a breakthrough in an previously-assumed unrelated case and discovered it was linked to William Afton. He went to Remnant to see if he recognized the specific animatronic in the footage. His assumption was correct as the mere sight of it triggered an extreme post-traumatic response."

Canary was silent. No doubt the woman was thinking about how to handle the situation.

Personally, Dick hoped that she went to help Mike first. Her protégé needed her help more than he did. Especially given that Robin was the reason they were in this predicament in the first place. If he hadn't been so stupid, then he and Mike would still be hanging out and patrolling like they planned.

"You don't think…?"

"That that animatronic is the one who caused Michael's injuries?" Batman finished, "Yes. The extent of its involvement in his attack remains unclear, but its markings correlate with the injuries he received when being restrained."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "So…you're saying that thing held him down while…?"

"Yes."

Robin paled. He felt sick. If what he was hearing was right then he had not only shown Mike one of the animatronics that had tried to kill him night after night, but one that had been directly involved in his near-death experience. The one that had held him down as he had been disemboweled and tortured.

God, now he really felt like shit.

Hopefully Rem would wake up soon so he could apologize for being…well, for being a dick.

Thankfully, his prayers were answered as his teammate gave a small groan.

The older teen sat up, leaning forwards to rest his head in his hands. Robin wasn't sure if he noticed his presence, but nonetheless he chose to stay quiet in order to let his friend collect his thoughts. That and he still needed to figure out how he was going to sneak out of the room.

Considering that Dick was the reason Mike was currently in the med bay, he doubted that he wanted to see him right now.

Unfortunately, his presence didn't go unnoticed.

Mike's gaze met his and the teen sat up, quickly putting on a familiar soft smile. "Hey Birdie. How're you doing?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Robin replied. "You're the one in the med-bay."

"Not by your fault."

Robin shot Remnant an incredulous look. He did remember how he ended up in this situation right?

And, as if he knew what he was thinking, the older boy raised a brow in turn. "I'm serious," he said, leaning over and ruffling his hair, "it's not your fault. You didn't know. I'm the one who didn't tell anyone about…it." Mike shivered, taking another deep breath. "Look, don't blame yourself for my stupidity."

"It's not your fault if you don't wanna talk about what happened—"

"It is if I'm going to help with this case," Mike interjected. "It was going to happen eventually. I just need to grow up and deal." Running a hand through his hair, the older boy rubbed his neck. "So…I'm guessing since I'm…wherever this is that it was pretty bad?"

Robin reluctantly nodded, "Bats had to sedate you."

Rem looked mildly miffed, but he didn't look surprised. "That bad huh?" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Well, at least I didn't go on a murderous rampage."

To most, the tone of voice in that statement seemed joking. But, Dick could feel the elder carefully watching him. Like he was worried he was going to receive a different answer.

Not that the Boy Wonder was surprised given that he himself feared becoming the exact same as Bruce one day. He loved the man, he was like a second dad to him, but still…sometimes it scared him how far he was willing to go for the mission.

However, instead of letting his thoughts spiral, the younger shook his head. "Nope. Just probably scared the crap outta half of Gotham."

It was a poor attempt at a joke. As was proven by the frown crossing Rem's face at his response.

Scooching closer to the side of the bed, Robin felt the older boy scrutinizing him. "I didn't scare you, did I? I know my…episodes can be, uh, unpleasant."

That was an understatement.

Still, it wasn't Mike's job to apologize for something that wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault."

"Doesn't change the fact I scared you."

"Well it doesn't change the fact that I caused it."

"Who was the one who didn't tell anyone what happened?"

"And who would blame you for that?"

"Are you two really arguing about who's at fault?" a new voice interrupted, prompting both boys to stop and look to the door.

Black Canary was leaning against the frame, a small solemn smile on her face as she watched the two teens bicker. It was both heartwarming and depressing to see. Because on one hand she got to see how close the two had become over the past few months. But, on the other, they were both placing the blame on themselves for what was ultimately just bad luck.

It was something that spoke volumes about both of them.

However, that was a conversation to have another day.

"Robin, can Remnant and I talk privately?"

Despite the mask on the younger's face, she could tell she was sharing a glance with Mike before he reluctantly rose from his chair, leaving the room. Closing the door behind him, Dinah made a mental note to speak with Richard later to see how he handled what happened. However, right now, her attention was more focused on Michael.

The boy had somewhat curled in on himself, looking away as if he refused to meet her eyes. "…Sorry."

Sighing to herself, she sat down on the edge of the bed. "Mike, it's not your fault. You had a post-traumatic response. Anyone who's been through half of what you have is going to have it." She reached out, patting his knee. "And I won't lie, dealing with it is never easy."

"Good days and bad days right?" he spoke up, finally looking up to meet her gaze.

"Exactly," she nodded, scooching a little closer on the off chance he needed something to ground him. "So, do you want to tell me what happened?"

Mike's breath hitched slightly. Closing his eyes, she could see his knuckles turn white as he clenched a fist, no doubt trying to fight off the memories. Releasing a slow, shaky exhale, his gaze flickered to the corner of the room.

Dinah could see the gears turning in his head. Undoubtedly going through all the pros and cons of delving into more specific details of his attack. It was a topic they had avoided for a while now. Mostly due to the fact that whenever they broached it, it would result in situations like this.

They weren't nearly as bad as this one had been. But Dinah had had to guide her protégé through more than one of his panic attacks.

"We can still work our way to that conversation if you want," she reminded. "We don't have to do it now."

Across from her, Mike took a deep breath. "Will…will talking about it help? With the investigation?"

"I won't lie to you kiddo, we won't know that until you tell us," she confessed. "But that doesn't mean you should feel pressured into talking about it."

"Ok," he said. Running his fingers through his hair, Dinah could see her protégé's hand shaking. "I think…I think…"

"Michael," she spoke, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder before he could begin panicking again, "it's your trauma. You deserve to work through it at your own pace."

"I know," he nodded, meeting her gaze. "And I think I need to get this off my chest."