He likes the soft thing. He thinks it's called about a blanket but it doesn't matter. It's so soft and warm and it smells like him. His scent is all over it. It was different before that, a different smell and he thinks that might have been his once too but as soon as the thought always came, it was always as quick to go.
The house is big and lonesome. He was scared of it at first. Everything wreaked of sadness and grief but his corner is nice. There's a warm thing there that he knows he's not supposed to touch. The old beta said so. It smells nice too and the colors are pretty and bright. There are high walls filled with things that go up and up and up.
Sometimes the big alpha comes in and grabs one. He'll sit right in front of him and open it up and starting sayintg fancy words. His voice is warm but sad, like the rest of the house, but his scent is nice. Everything about it says the alpha is pack that he is safe as long as the alpha is there. Sometimes it is sad though and that makes him feel funny.
He doesn't move when the alpha is near, just pulls the soft thing tighter around him. Sometimes, the alpha's hand touches his, just for a second. His body tenses up, waiting for something bad to happen, but it doesn't. The alpha doesn't hurt. He never does. That's important. His scent says he won't let anything bad happen.
There's another one, a younger beta, who comes in sometimes. Loud and quick, always moving. His scent is familiar too, but different from the big alpha's. He's not scary either, though sometimes he talks too fast, and that makes things feel too big. But the younger alpha's scent has something else in it, something that almost feels like... fun. He can't remember what fun is, but something about the younger alpha makes him feel like he used to know.
Then there's the old beta. He brings food, things that smell too strong, that make his stomach twist. He doesn't want to eat, doesn't like the way his body feels when he tries. It makes his head spin. But the old beta talks softly, with a voice that feels like the sun, and sometimes that makes it okay.
Sometimes, he can eat a little when the beta is there. Just a little. It makes the beta smile when he eats. He can't always though. Food tastes sour and makes his stomach feel funny but he tries to eat when he can. Something in him says he wants to make the beta happy.
But when they leave, the quiet comes back. The bad feelings come back with it. He doesn't like the quiet. It makes him curl up tighter, the soft thing wrapped around him, his body shaking. The quiet is wrong, it lets the fear crawl under his skin, makes him feel like something bad is waiting just out of sight. Like the bad ones before. There were a bunch of betas and alphas. They smelled nasty and mean and they huurt him.
He rocks a little, because that helps. He rocks until the feeling goes away, just a little. But he doesn't like being alone because the feeling never goes away for long.
The big alpha always comes back, though. His scent fills the room before he even steps inside, and everything feels... easier. The bad feelings don't go away completely, but they hide when the alpha is near. He knows the alpha is pack. The alpha will keep him safe. That's what his body tells him.
But even when the big alpha is there, even when he's safe in the corner with the soft thing, something is wrong. There's something coming, something he can't understand, but his body knows it's going to hurt. He can feel it, somewhere deep inside him, and it makes the fear worse, makes his skin feel tight, like it's waiting for something to break.
He doesn't have words for it. He doesn't need them. All he knows is the soft thing, the big alpha's scent, and the quiet fear that never really goes away…
Bruce stepped into the dimly lit library, the sound of his boots soft against the thick Persian rug that lined the floor. The familiar scent of old books and polished wood filled the room, comforting in a way that only this place could be, but tonight, it felt heavier. Even the flicker of the fire in the hearth seemed subdued, casting long, wavering shadows along the walls.
His cape, heavy with the night's work, brushed the ground as he moved quietly toward the far corner. He knew he was breaking Alfred's rule—no capes upstairs—but he needed to do this. Maybe Alfred would understand. Just this once.
Jason was there, just as Bruce knew he would be. Curled up in the corner, his body wrapped tightly in the familiar blue blanket that had become his only shield from the world. The firelight flickered across his face, highlighting the tear tracks on his cheeks. He was rocking back and forth, a slow, rhythmic motion that made Bruce's heart twist painfully in his chest. Jason never cried.
Not in front of him. He had always been so determined to be tough, to stand tall no matter what life threw at him. Seeing him like this—so small, so lost—it broke something inside Bruce.
For a moment, Bruce just stood there, watching. The room was too quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire and the faint creaking of the floorboards as the house settled. Outside, the wind howled against the manor's thick stone walls, but in here, it was stifling. The weight of the silence pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating.
He crouched down slowly, making sure his movements were deliberate careful. He didn't want to startle Jason, didn't want to shatter whatever fragile peace existed in that moment. He could feel the cold radiating off the windows, but the warmth of the fire didn't seem to reach them here, not really.
Bruce's heart ached as he reached out, his gloved hand brushing against the edge of the blue blanket. It was soft, worn from too much use, but Jason clung to it as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality. His body trembled, and Bruce could hear the soft, broken sounds escaping Jason's throat, not quite sobs, but something close.
Bruce's throat tightened. He wanted to say something, anything that would help, but words felt useless. He had never been good with words, especially not when it came to this. There were no words to fix what had happened, no words that could take away the pain that Jason was in. And so, Bruce just sat there for a moment, letting the silence speak for him. Letting Jason know that he wasn't alone, even if it felt like the world was crumbling around him.
Bruce could see it in Jason's eyes, the confusion, the fear that lingered there, just beneath the surface. There was no recognition in them anymore, no spark of the sharp, clever boy he'd once been. No quick witted quips or joyful excitement.
It was as if Jason had been hollowed out, leaving only this trembling shell of the person he used to be. It was wrong, so wrong, and Bruce felt the guilt rise up in his chest again, choking him. He had failed Jason. He had promised to keep him safe, and now…
The rocking slowed slightly as Bruce's presence seemed to register, but Jason's eyes never focused on him. They stayed distant, clouded, trapped in some place Bruce couldn't reach. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain calm, even as his heart shattered all over again.
He hated this. Hated seeing Jason like this, hated feeling so helpless. He wanted to fix it, to pull Jason out of the dark place Venari had dragged him into, but every solution he thought of felt like another dead end. His mind kept circling back to the same truth: there was no cure. Not yet.
"I'm here," Bruce finally whispered, his voice rough, barely audible over the crackling fire. He wasn't sure Jason could even understand him anymore, but he said it anyway. He needed Jason to know he wasn't alone, even if he couldn't say it out loud.
Jason made a small noise, somewhere between a whimper and a sigh, and Bruce's chest tightened. He couldn't do this anymore—just sitting, just watching Jason fade away in front of him.
"Come with me," Bruce said quietly, his hand gently resting on Jason's arm. He wasn't sure Jason would understand, but he had to try. "It's okay."
He waited, watching for any sign of acknowledgment, but Jason just kept rocking, clutching the blanket tighter against his chest. Bruce's breath caught in his throat, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he gently tugged on the blanket, coaxing Jason to uncurl from the corner.
The motion was slow, almost painful in its deliberateness, but after what felt like an eternity, Jason shifted. His eyes were still distant, still unfocused, but he let Bruce guide him, his body moving stiffly.
Bruce's cape swept the floor as he stood, helping Jason to his feet. The boy was fragile, trembling beneath the weight of his own body, and Bruce had to bite back the swell of rage and grief that threatened to rise up inside him. He wouldn't let this stand. He couldn't.
Bruce led him through the manor without a word, their footsteps echoing softly through the empty halls. The cold, sterile smell of the Batcave hit Bruce's senses as the elevator doors opened. It wasn't a place of warmth, not like the library. It was a place of focus, of work, of solving problems.
He needed that now. Needed the clarity the cave brought, the way it forced him to think, to analyze, to plan. There were answers somewhere—he just had to find them.
Bruce stepped back for a moment, his fists clenching at his sides. He couldn't stand it—couldn't stand seeing Jason like this. But he had to. He had to keep going. He had to keep fighting for Jason, even if Jason couldn't fight for himself right now.
Bruce stood still for a moment as the elevator descended into the Batcave, the steady hum filling the confined space. He glanced at Jason, who remained rigid beside him, his blanket still wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
There was a hollowness in the boy's eyes, a distance that never used to be there. Bruce fought the wave of anger and grief that threatened to overwhelm him, pushing it down, deep where it couldn't distract him. This wasn't the time for emotions. He needed to focus—needed to think.
The elevator doors slid open, revealing the cold expanse of the cave. The familiar sterile scent hit Bruce immediately—the faint whiff of metal, oil, and the damp earth that clung to the cavern walls. It was a smell he was used to, a place where everything made sense, where problems were solved, and control was absolute. But to Jason, this place was alien.
Jason's body language changed the second they stepped out into the cave. His shoulders stiffened, his eyes widened in alarm, and he hesitated at the threshold, as though unsure of whether he could trust this cold, unfamiliar world.
His nose twitched as he took in the unfamiliar scent of the space, and Bruce could see the way his hands clenched the blanket, knuckles turning white. The way his shoulders hunched in made him seem smaller, more fragile than before, and Bruce could feel the fear rolling off him in waves.
Jason's eyes darted around the space, his gaze unfocused and erratic, flicking from the sleek computers to the towering structures in the cave. Bruce watched closely, observing the way Jason's muscles tensed and the small, sharp breaths that escaped him. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow gasps, the fear rising inside him like a tide he couldn't stop.
Without warning, Jason lashed out. His hand flew through the air, wild and uncoordinated, swiping at nothing in particular. His breath came in sharp gasps, and his body jerked away from Bruce, retreating instinctively as though something had come to harm him. His movements were frantic, animalistic, driven by fear and confusion rather than thought.
"Easy," Bruce said softly, keeping his distance as he raised his hands in a calming gesture. "You're safe. You're with me."
Jason didn't hear him. He backed up, his legs shaking beneath him, and his eyes locked onto the distant walls of the cave, the massive, looming space making him tremble with uncertainty. He looked around frantically as though trying to find an exit, to get back to the safety of his corner in the library, where the fire's warmth had once comforted him.
Bruce took a slow step toward him, keeping his movements controlled and deliberate. "Jason," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "It's okay. You're safe here. You're with me."
Jason flinched at the sound of Bruce's voice, shrinking into himself as though the words were too much for him to process. He clutched the blanket tighter around his body, retreating further into his cocoon of protection, his eyes wide and glassy with fear.
Bruce clenched his fists at his sides, the urge to pull Jason into his arms nearly overwhelming, but he knew that wouldn't help right now. Jason was too far gone, too consumed by instinct to understand the safety Bruce was offering. He had to stay calm, had to find a way to reach Jason before the boy's fear consumed him entirely.
With deliberate slowness, Bruce moved closer, his cape rustling softly as he crouched down to Jason's level. "Look at me," Bruce murmured, his voice low and steady. "Just look at me."
Jason's head turned toward him, his eyes locking onto Bruce's form as though finally registering the familiar presence. His breath hitched, his body still trembling, but there was a flicker of recognition in his gaze, a tiny glimmer that gave Bruce hope.
"There's nothing to be afraid of here," Bruce continued. "You're with me. You're safe."
Jason's eyes flicked away from Bruce, darting around the cave again, and then they settled on something. Bruce followed his gaze, and his heart twisted painfully as he realized what Jason was staring at.
The Robin uniform!
It stood in its case, the bright colors a stark contrast to the cold, dark cave surrounding it. The uniform was a symbol of hope, of joy, and of everything Jason had once been. Now, it was a haunting reminder of what had been lost. Jason's eyes lingered on the case, his gaze unfocused but filled with something that Bruce couldn't quite name.
Jason let out a low, pained whimper, his eyes flicking back and forth between the Robin suit and Bruce. His body trembled, and his hands clutched at the blanket like a lifeline, as though it were the only thing tethering him to reality.
Bruce swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain steady, even as his heart ached for the boy who had once been so full of life. He stepped closer, gently placing a hand on Jason's shoulder. He felt the tension in the boy's body, and the fear coiled tightly inside him.
"It's okay," Bruce whispered. "You don't have to be Robin right now. You don't have to be anything but here."
Jason's breathing slowed slightly, his body still shaking but less violently than before. Bruce kept his hand on Jason's shoulder, grounding him, anchoring him to the present. He wouldn't push Jason any further tonight. He wouldn't force him to face the cave, the uniform, or the memories that came with it.
But J'onn was coming, and Bruce had to hope that the Martian's presence could help. That maybe, just maybe, there was a way to find the Jason that was still buried deep inside, hidden beneath the layers of fear and instinct.
Bruce's grip tightened slightly on Jason's shoulder, his heart heavy with the weight of it all. He had never been good at asking for help, had never allowed himself to rely on others. But now, he had no choice.
Bruce sighed deeply, glancing at the familiar layout of the Batcave—its vastness stretching into the dim, shadowy corners, where darkness seemed to hold even the most well-kept secrets. His fingers tightened slightly on Jason's shoulder, feeling the trembling beneath the fabric of the blue blanket. The boy's fear was palpable, like an electric current running through him, vibrating with every hesitant step he took.
Bruce knew the cave could feel like a void, especially for someone who wasn't used to its cold, sterile environment. It was a place of solutions, not comfort—a sanctuary for logic, strategy, and determination. But now, it seemed like just another reminder of the emptiness that had swallowed Jason whole.
Bruce stepped away from Jason, his hand lingering on the boy's arm briefly before he turned back toward the row of glass cases that housed the uniforms—those symbolic pieces of their past, of victories, losses, and identities. He moved slowly toward the case that held his own backup gear, pulling open the drawer that housed extra equipment.
He picked up a domino mask, feeling its smooth texture under his fingers. He knew it wasn't necessary—J'onn didn't need masks or suits to know who they were or what they meant. The Martian could see through any façade, any disguise. But there was something sacred in the ritual of donning the mask, in hiding their identities behind a shield of anonymity, even if it was for show.
Perhaps, Bruce thought, there was comfort in pretending this was just another mission, just another obstacle they could overcome by wearing their symbols and stepping into the night as Batman and Robin once again.
He walked back to Jason, crouching down slowly in front of him, the mask held gently in his hands. Jason's eyes followed the movement. His head tilted slightly in confusion, his gaze unfocused but curious.
"Here," Bruce whispered, holding the mask out to Jason, letting Jason see it and touch it.
Jason's hand, shaky and tentative, reached out from beneath the blanket. His fingers brushed the smooth surface of the domino mask, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed to narrow with something like recognition. He ran his fingers along the edges, his brow furrowing as if trying to remember what this piece of fabric meant. His head tilted slightly, and his eyes met Bruce's for the barest flicker of a second before darting away again.
Bruce's chest tightened. He waited, letting Jason explore the mask at his own pace, knowing that in this moment, they needed something—anything—that would ground Jason in reality, however faint that connection might be.
Jason let out a small, confused hum, his fingers still tracing the contours of the mask. Bruce gently reached forward and took the mask from Jason's hand, lifting it toward the boy's face with careful, deliberate movements. Jason didn't flinch this time—his trembling subsided, if only slightly, as Bruce placed the mask gently over his eyes.
"There," Bruce said softly. "Just like before."
He knew the mask didn't hold any real power—it wouldn't stop J'onn from seeing deep into Jason's mind. It wouldn't shield Jason from the invasion of memories and thoughts that had ravaged him. But it was a symbol, a part of Jason's past that Bruce hoped might provide some fragment of familiarity, some reminder of the boy he had been.
Jason's body stilled for a moment, his breath coming in soft, shallow pants as he stared blankly ahead, the mask now snugly in place. Bruce stayed close, kneeling beside him, feeling the tension in his own body as he waited. He could see the flickers of recognition in Jason's eyes as they swept across the room, catching on the glass case that held the Robin suit once more.
A flash of movement caught Bruce's attention, and he looked up to see Jason's hands clench the blanket tighter, his gaze locked on the vibrant colors of the Robin uniform once more. Bruce's heart twisted at the sight, the memories rushing back to him—Jason laughing, jumping off rooftops, proudly donning the mantle of Robin. "Robin gives me magic," he had said once, and Bruce had believed it too.
But now that magic was gone.
Bruce let out a slow breath, keeping his voice calm and steady as he said, "It's okay. You're safe."
Jason's eyes flickered again, still clouded, still far away. His body trembled, a faint shiver coursing through him as if the coldness of the cave was starting to seep into his bones. He didn't react violently this time, but his shoulders hunched inward, his posture defensive as if bracing for something he couldn't name.
Bruce knew that bringing Jason into the Batcave was a risk. The cold, the unfamiliar smells of oil, metal, and damp rock—all of it could overwhelm him. But he had no choice. J'onn would be here soon, and Bruce couldn't afford to let his hesitation stop him from trying to reach Jason.
With one last glance at the Robin suit, Bruce stood, his cape brushing the floor as he moved toward the central console. The faint hum of the Batcomputer filled the cave, accompanied by the distant drip of water from the stalactites above. Bruce let his fingers brush across the cool metal surface of the console, pulling up the files he had been working on—Venari research, chemical analysis, everything he had gathered to try and save Jason.
He glanced back at Jason, still huddled in his corner, the blue blanket pulled tight around his body. The domino mask sat lightly on his face, but it did little to hide the fear in his eyes. Bruce could feel it—the terror that clung to Jason like a second skin, a constant presence that wouldn't let go.
"J'onn will be here soon," Bruce murmured to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He wasn't sure if Jason could hear him, or if the words would matter, but he said them anyway. "
Behind him, Jason sat huddled against the cold stone wall, the blanket pulled tightly around him. The soft hum of the Batcomputer seemed distant compared to the sound of Jason's shallow, uneven breathing. The domino mask Bruce had gently placed on his face barely clung to him now, as though Jason wasn't even aware it was there.
And then, the familiar hum of the Zeta Tube filled the cave, the soft blue light illuminating the vast darkness around them.
Bruce tensed, casting a quick glance at Jason, who flinched at the sudden shift in light and sound. His eyes darted toward the tube, and Bruce could see the way his body recoiled instinctively, shrinking back into the protective cocoon of the blanket. The fear, already so present, surged visibly in Jason's trembling limbs, and his breath quickened.
J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, stepped from the tube, his tall, imposing figure bathed in the soft glow of the Zeta energy. His red eyes gleamed in the dim light of the cave, and his green skin stood out like something out of a nightmare to Jason's already overwhelmed senses.
Bruce saw it happen instantly. Jason's body went rigid, and his eyes widened with terror. It didn't help that without a secondary gender, Jo'nn had no second scent.
A sharp, primal sound—half a whimper, half a growl—escaped his throat, and he pushed himself back against the wall, his limbs jerking as if trying to flee but unable to comprehend how.
"Jason," Bruce called softly, stepping forward, his heart clenching at the sight of the boy trembling, his entire body shaking like a leaf caught in a storm.
J'onn, sensing the terror immediately, moved with the utmost care. His large hands were held up in a gesture of peace, and his red eyes softened with empathy. He didn't take another step closer, instead lowering himself slowly, kneeling to bring himself closer to Jason's level.
"I will not harm you, Robin," J'onn said, his voice gentle, almost a whisper. The way he spoke the name—Robin—carried a weight of care, of respect, as though calling Jason by that name was a way of acknowledging who he still was, buried deep within the fear and brokenness.
Jason's breathing was ragged, his eyes wide and filled with panic, but something in the way
J'onn spoke—calling him Robin—caused the slightest flicker in his gaze. His fingers, which had been clutching the blanket with white-knuckled intensity, loosened slightly, though his body remained coiled in fear.
Bruce stepped beside J'onn, his eyes never leaving Jason. "It's okay," Bruce murmured, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. "You're safe here. This is J'onn. He's here to help."
Jason's eyes flickered back and forth between Bruce and the Martian, the confusion and terror still clouding his gaze. He didn't understand, not fully. The scent of fear hung heavy in the air, and Bruce could feel it radiating off Jason, mixing with the familiar scent of the cave. It was suffocating.
J'onn remained kneeling, his movements slow and deliberate. "Robin," he said again, his voice impossibly soft, as though speaking to a frightened animal. "You are with friends. You are safe."
Jason's body shook, his fingers twitching beneath the blanket, but he didn't lash out this time. His eyes stayed locked on J'onn, still filled with fear, but there was something else—an almost childlike uncertainty, a question lingering just beneath the surface.
Bruce could barely breathe as he watched, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had never felt this helpless in his life. Not when he lost his parents. Not when he found Jason's broken body. This was worse. This was standing at the edge of the abyss, knowing he might not be able to pull Jason back.
J'onn slowly extended a hand, though he didn't try to touch Jason. Instead, he waited, his presence as non-threatening as possible. "Robin," J'onn whispered, "do you trust Batman?"
Jason's gaze flicked toward Bruce at the mention of his name, the slightest spark of recognition crossing his face. Bruce felt the air leave his lungs, his heart pounding as he saw the brief flicker in Jason's eyes. It was there—just for a moment, but it was there.
J'onn's voice was soft and gentle. "He will let no further harm come to you." He said.
J'onn's voice broke the silence once again, turning his attention to Bruce. "Are you ready, Batman?" he asked, his voice filled with the weight of what was about to happen.
Bruce stared at J'onn, his heart hammering in his chest. He nodded slowly, forcing himself to stay composed, though every fiber of his being was screaming with fear for what might come next. He didn't like asking for help. He hated it. But he would do anything—anything—if it meant bringing Jason back.
Bruce swallowed hard, forcing himself to maintain control as J'onn's red eyes met his. The Martian's calm demeanor was both reassuring and unsettling. There was something otherworldly about it—like J'onn had seen and felt things far beyond anything Bruce could imagine, yet here he was, willing to venture into Jason's broken mind.
Before they began, J'onn tilted his head slightly, his voice low and gentle. "Batman, set him down somewhere comfortable. He needs to feel safe for this to work."
Bruce nodded, though his heart pounded in his chest. He understood. He glanced around the cave, his eyes landing on the large chair by the Batcomputer. It wasn't a bed, but it was soft and secure—familiar, in a way that might give Jason a sense of stability. He guided Jason slowly toward it, feeling the weight of the boy in his arms, light and fragile, like holding something precious that could shatter at any moment.
"Come on," Bruce whispered softly, steering Jason with careful hands. He could feel the boy's hesitation, his steps faltering as they neared the chair. The scent of metal, dampness, and oil filled the cave, still foreign to Jason's heightened senses.
Bruce wished there was something warmer, something more welcoming, but the Batcave had never been a place of comfort.
When they reached the chair, Bruce gently eased Jason down, the blue blanket still wrapped tightly around him. The soft material pooled around Jason's small frame as he sat stiffly in the chair, his hands clutching the edges of the blanket like a lifeline. His eyes darted around the cave, unfocused, unsure, and Bruce could see the tension in his posture, the way his muscles remained coiled as if ready to flee.
Bruce knelt beside him, placing a hand on Jason's knee, grounding him. "You're safe," he murmured again, knowing Jason might not understand, but saying it anyway. "You're safe here."
Jason blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused but flicking briefly to Bruce's hand. The faintest flicker of recognition, just for a second, before his attention drifted back to the looming shadows of the cave. He shivered, his body trembling beneath the weight of the unfamiliar space.
Bruce hated seeing him like this—so lost, so afraid—but he had to believe this would help. He had to trust J'onn.
J'onn stepped forward with quiet grace, his red eyes glowing softly as he observed Jason. His voice was gentle, soothing, as if he could sense the waves of fear rolling off the boy. "This will not harm him," he assured Bruce. "I will be careful."
Bruce's throat tightened as he gave a small nod, watching as J'onn moved closer to Jason.
"Take your time," Bruce murmured, though he knew time was a luxury they didn't have.
"Of course," J'onn replied. And it was then that Bruce remembered that he had once been a father too. That J'onn knew all to well the pain of losing a child.
J'onn glanced at Bruce, then knelt beside Jason, his movements slow and deliberate. "Robin," he whispered again, using the name that once gave Jason strength, a name that carried the weight of a life he barely remembered now. "I'm going to help you. You won't be alone."
Jason flinched slightly, his body tensing as J'onn extended a hand, not to touch, but to hover close, as though offering a gentle presence. Bruce held his breath, watching every movement, every twitch in Jason's body. The fear was still there—palpable, sharp—but J'onn's presence had a strangely calming effect, like a steady heartbeat in a storm.
J'onn's voice softened further as he continued. "You're with Batman. You're safe. I'm going to help you, Robin. I will fix what's wrong, but you need to trust me."
Jason's breathing hitched, his fingers gripping the blanket tighter, but he didn't move away. His eyes, wide and glassy, flickered to Bruce for just a heartbeat as if seeking reassurance. Bruce gave a small nod, his hand still resting on Jason's knee.
"You've got this, kid," Bruce whispered, though his voice wavered.
J'onn finally made contact, his fingers just brushing the edge of Jason's shoulder, gentle and non-threatening. Jason flinched but didn't pull away, his body trembling as the Martian's psychic energy began to weave into his mind, searching for the boy who had been lost so long ago.
Bruce stood close, his fists clenched at his sides, ready for anything. J'onn glanced at him one last time, his red eyes glowing with a quiet intensity. "Are you ready, Batman?" J'onn asked again, his voice low, as though bracing Bruce for what was to come.
Bruce swallowed the tightness in his throat, forcing himself to nod. "Do it."
J'onn closed his eyes, his hand resting lightly on Jason's shoulder as his mind reached deep into the broken labyrinth that was Jason's consciousness. The cave fell into an eerie stillness, the air heavy with the weight of what was happening. Bruce could only watch, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping—praying—that J'onn could find Jason buried in the darkness.
This has to work, Bruce thought, his mind racing. It has to.